the
agent of the Duke of Vallombreuse, he joyously jingled the handful
of gold pieces in his pocket, with an imprudent audacity that showed
conclusively how much he was respected by the thieves and cut throats
who haunted the Pont-Neuf.

CHAPTER XII. THE CROWNED RADISH

Jacquemin Lampourde, after parting company with Merindol, seemed in
great uncertainty as to which way he should go, and had not yet decided
when he reached the end of the Pont-Neuf. He was like the donkey between
two bundles of hay; or, if that comparison be not pleasing, like a
piece of iron between two magnets of equal power. On the one side was
lansquenet, with the fascinating excitement of rapidly winning and
losing the broad gold pieces that he loved; and on the other the tavern,
with its tempting array of bottles; for he was a drunkard as well as a
gambler, this same notorious Jacquemin Lampourde. He stood stock still
for a while, debating this knotty point with himself, quite unable to
come to a decision, and growing very much vexed at his own hesitation,
when suddenly a brilliant idea occurred to him, and, plunging his hand
into his well-filled pocket, he drew forth a gold piece, which he tossed
into the air, crying, "Head for the tavern, tail for lansquenet." The
coin rang upon the pavement as it fell, and he kneeled down to see
what fate had decided for him; head was up. "Very well," said he,
philosophically, as he picked up the piece of money, carefully wiped off
the mud, and put it back in his pocket, "I'll go and get drunk." Then,
with long strides, he made off to his favourite tavern, which had the
advantage of being in the immediate vicinity of his own lodgings, so
that with a few zigzags he was at home, after he had filled himself with
wine from the soles of his boots to the apple in his throat. It was not
an inviting-looking place, this same tavern, with the odd device of an
enormous radish, bearing a golden crown--now rather tarnished--which
had served as its sign for many generations of wine-drinkers. The heavy
wooden shutters were all closed when Lampourde reached it; but by the
bright light streaming through their crevices, and the sounds of song
and revelry that reached his ear, he knew that there must be a numerous
company within. Knocking on the door in a peculiar way with the handle
of his sword, he made himself known as an habitue of the house, and was
promptly admitted--the door being carefully made fast again the moment