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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:17:03 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:17:03 -0700 |
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diff --git a/1380-h/1380-h.htm b/1380-h/1380-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b230376 --- /dev/null +++ b/1380-h/1380-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13579 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Two Brothers, by Honore de Balzac + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1380 ***</div> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE TWO BROTHERS + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Honore De Balzac + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + Translated by Katharine Prescott Wormeley + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <h3> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> DEDICATION </a><br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0002"> <b>THE TWO BROTHERS</b> </a> + </h3> + <h3> + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + </td> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> + </p> + </td> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> ADDENDUM </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + DEDICATION + </h2> + <h3> + To Monsieur Charles Nodier, member of the French Academy, etc. + </h3> + <p> + Here, my dear Nodier, is a book filled with deeds that are screened from + the action of the laws by the closed doors of domestic life; but as to + which the finger of God, often called chance, supplies the place of human + justice, and in which the moral is none the less striking and instructive + because it is pointed by a scoffer. + </p> + <p> + To my mind, such deeds contain great lessons for the Family and for + Maternity. We shall some day realize, perhaps too late, the effects + produced by the diminution of paternal authority. That authority, which + formerly ceased only at the death of the father, was the sole human + tribunal before which domestic crimes could be arraigned; kings + themselves, on special occasions, took part in executing its judgments. + However good and tender a mother may be, she cannot fulfil the function of + the patriarchal royalty any more than a woman can take the place of a king + upon the throne. Perhaps I have never drawn a picture that shows more + plainly how essential to European society is the indissoluble marriage + bond, how fatal the results of feminine weakness, how great the dangers + arising from selfish interests when indulged without restraint. May a + society which is based solely on the power of wealth shudder as it sees + the impotence of the law in dealing with the workings of a system which + deifies success, and pardons every means of attaining it. May it return to + the Catholic religion, for the purification of its masses through the + inspiration of religious feeling, and by means of an education other than + that of a lay university. + </p> + <p> + In the “Scenes from Military Life” so many fine natures, so many high and + noble self-devotions will be set forth, that I may here be allowed to + point out the depraving effect of the necessities of war upon certain + minds who venture to act in domestic life as if upon the field of battle. + </p> + <p> + You have cast a sagacious glance over the events of our own time; its + philosophy shines, in more than one bitter reflection, through your + elegant pages; you have appreciated, more clearly than other men, the + havoc wrought in the mind of our country by the existence of four distinct + political systems. I cannot, therefore, place this history under the + protection of a more competent authority. Your name may, perhaps, defend + my work against the criticisms that are certain to follow it,—for + where is the patient who keeps silence when the surgeon lifts the dressing + from his wound? + </p> + <p> + To the pleasure of dedicating this Scene to you, is joined the pride I + feel in thus making known your friendship for one who here subscribes + himself + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Your sincere admirer, + + De Balzac + Paris, November, 1842. +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + THE TWO BROTHERS + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + In 1792 the townspeople of Issoudun enjoyed the services of a physician + named Rouget, whom they held to be a man of consummate malignity. Were we + to believe certain bold tongues, he made his wife extremely unhappy, + although she was the most beautiful woman of the neighborhood. Perhaps, + indeed, she was rather silly. But the prying of friends, the slander of + enemies, and the gossip of acquaintances, had never succeeded in laying + bare the interior of that household. Doctor Rouget was a man of whom we + say in common parlance, “He is not pleasant to deal with.” Consequently, + during his lifetime, his townsmen kept silence about him and treated him + civilly. His wife, a demoiselle Descoings, feeble in health during her + girlhood (which was said to be a reason why the doctor married her), gave + birth to a son, and also to a daughter who arrived, unexpectedly, ten + years after her brother, and whose birth took the husband, doctor though + he were, by surprise. This late-comer was named Agathe. + </p> + <p> + These little facts are so simple, so commonplace, that a writer seems + scarcely justified in placing them in the fore-front of his history; yet + if they are not known, a man of Doctor Rouget’s stamp would be thought a + monster, an unnatural father, when, in point of fact, he was only + following out the evil tendencies which many people shelter under the + terrible axiom that “men should have strength of character,”—a + masculine phrase that has caused many a woman’s misery. + </p> + <p> + The Descoings, father-in-law and mother-in-law of the doctor, were + commission merchants in the wool-trade, and did a double business by + selling for the producers and buying for the manufacturers of the golden + fleeces of Berry; thus pocketing a commission on both sides. In this way + they grew rich and miserly—the outcome of many such lives. Descoings + the son, younger brother of Madame Rouget, did not like Issoudun. He went + to seek his fortune in Paris, where he set up as a grocer in the rue + Saint-Honore. That step led to his ruin. But nothing could have hindered + it: a grocer is drawn to his business by an attracting force quite equal + to the repelling force which drives artists away from it. We do not + sufficiently study the social potentialities which make up the various + vocations of life. It would be interesting to know what determines one man + to be a stationer rather than a baker; since, in our day, sons are not + compelled to follow the calling of their fathers, as they were among the + Egyptians. In this instance, love decided the vocation of Descoings. He + said to himself, “I, too, will be a grocer!” and in the same breath he + said (also to himself) some other things regarding his employer,—a + beautiful creature, with whom he had fallen desperately in love. Without + other help than patience and the trifling sum of money his father and + mother sent him, he married the widow of his predecessor, Monsieur Bixiou. + </p> + <p> + In 1792 Descoings was thought to be doing an excellent business. At that + time, the old Descoings were still living. They had retired from the + wool-trade, and were employing their capital in buying up the forfeited + estates,—another golden fleece! Their son-in-law Doctor Rouget, who, + about this time, felt pretty sure that he should soon have to mourn for + the death of his wife, sent his daughter to Paris to the care of his + brother-in-law, partly to let her see the capital, but still more to carry + out an artful scheme of his own. Descoings had no children. Madame + Descoings, twelve years older than her husband, was in good health, but as + fat as a thrush after harvest; and the canny Rouget knew enough + professionally to be certain that Monsieur and Madame Descoings, contrary + to the moral of fairy tales, would live happy ever after without having + any children. The pair might therefore become attached to Agathe. + </p> + <p> + That young girl, the handsomest maiden in Issoudun, did not resemble + either father or mother. Her birth had caused a lasting breach between + Doctor Rouget and his intimate friend Monsieur Lousteau, a former + sub-delegate who had lately removed from the town. When a family + expatriates itself, the natives of a place as attractive as Issoudun have + a right to inquire into the reasons of so surprising a step. It was said + by certain sharp tongues that Doctor Rouget, a vindictive man, had been + heard to exclaim that Monsieur Lousteau should die by his hand. Uttered by + a physician, this declaration had the force of a cannon-ball. When the + National Assembly suppressed the sub-delegates, Lousteau and his family + left Issoudun, and never returned there. After their departure Madame + Rouget spent most of her time with the sister of the late sub-delegate, + Madame Hochon, who was the godmother of her daughter, and the only person + to whom she confided her griefs. The little that the good town of Issoudun + ever really knew of the beautiful Madame Rouget was told by Madame Hochon,—though + not until after the doctor’s death. + </p> + <p> + The first words of Madame Rouget, when informed by her husband that he + meant to send Agathe to Paris, were: “I shall never see my daughter + again.” + </p> + <p> + “And she was right,” said the worthy Madame Hochon. + </p> + <p> + After this, the poor mother grew as yellow as a quince, and her appearance + did not contradict the tongues of those who declared that Doctor Rouget + was killing her by inches. The behavior of her booby of a son must have + added to the misery of the poor woman so unjustly accused. Not restrained, + possibly encouraged by his father, the young fellow, who was in every way + stupid, paid her neither the attentions nor the respect which a son owes + to a mother. Jean-Jacques Rouget was like his father, especially on the + latter’s worst side; and the doctor at his best was far from satisfactory, + either morally or physically. + </p> + <p> + The arrival of the charming Agathe Rouget did not bring happiness to her + uncle Descoings; for in the same week (or rather, we should say decade, + for the Republic had then been proclaimed) he was imprisoned on a hint + from Robespierre given to Fouquier-Tinville. Descoings, who was imprudent + enough to think the famine fictitious, had the additional folly, under the + impression that opinions were free, to express that opinion to several of + his male and female customers as he served them in the grocery. The + citoyenne Duplay, wife of a cabinet-maker with whom Robespierre lodged, + and who looked after the affairs of that eminent citizen, patronized, + unfortunately, the Descoings establishment. She considered the opinions of + the grocer insulting to Maximilian the First. Already displeased with the + manners of Descoings, this illustrious “tricoteuse” of the Jacobin club + regarded the beauty of his wife as a kind of aristocracy. She infused a + venom of her own into the grocer’s remarks when she repeated them to her + good and gentle master, and the poor man was speedily arrested on the + well-worn charge of “accaparation.” + </p> + <p> + No sooner was he put in prison, than his wife set to work to obtain his + release. But the steps she took were so ill-judged that any one hearing + her talk to the arbiters of his fate might have thought that she was in + reality seeking to get rid of him. Madame Descoings knew Bridau, one of + the secretaries of Roland, then minister of the interior,—the + right-hand man of all the ministers who succeeded each other in that + office. She put Bridau on the war-path to save her grocer. That + incorruptible official—one of the virtuous dupes who are always + admirably disinterested—was careful not to corrupt the men on whom + the fate of the poor grocer depended; on the contrary, he endeavored to + enlighten them. Enlighten people in those days! As well might he have + begged them to bring back the Bourbons. The Girondist minister, who was + then contending against Robespierre, said to his secretary, “Why do you + meddle in the matter?” and all others to whom the worthy Bridau appealed + made the same atrocious reply: “Why do you meddle?” Bridau then sagely + advised Madame Descoings to keep quiet and await events. But instead of + conciliating Robespierre’s housekeeper, she fretted and fumed against that + informer, and even complained to a member of the Convention, who, + trembling for himself, replied hastily, “I will speak of it to + Robespierre.” The handsome petitioner put faith in this promise, which the + other carefully forgot. A few loaves of sugar, or a bottle or two of good + liqueur, given to the citoyenne Duplay would have saved Descoings. + </p> + <p> + This little mishap proves that in revolutionary times it is quite as + dangerous to employ honest men as scoundrels; we should rely on ourselves + alone. Descoings perished; but he had the glory of going to the scaffold + with Andre Chenier. There, no doubt, grocery and poetry embraced for the + first time in the flesh; although they have, and ever have had, intimate + secret relations. The death of Descoings produced far more sensation than + that of Andre Chenier. It has taken thirty years to prove to France that + she lost more by the death of Chenier than by that of Descoings. + </p> + <p> + This act of Robespierre led to one good result: the terrified grocers let + politics alone until 1830. Descoings’s shop was not a hundred yards from + Robespierre’s lodging. His successor was scarcely more fortunate than + himself. Cesar Birotteau, the celebrated perfumer of the “Queen of Roses,” + bought the premises; but, as if the scaffold had left some inexplicable + contagion behind it, the inventor of the “Paste of Sultans” and the + “Carminative Balm” came to his ruin in that very shop. The solution of the + problem here suggested belongs to the realm of occult science. + </p> + <p> + During the visits which Roland’s secretary paid to the unfortunate Madame + Descoings, he was struck with the cold, calm, innocent beauty of Agathe + Rouget. While consoling the widow, who, however, was too inconsolable to + carry on the business of her second deceased husband, he married the + charming girl, with the consent of her father, who hastened to give his + approval to the match. Doctor Rouget, delighted to hear that matters were + going beyond his expectations,—for his wife, on the death of her + brother, had become sole heiress of the Descoings,—rushed to Paris, + not so much to be present at the wedding as to see that the marriage + contract was drawn to suit him. The ardent and disinterested love of + citizen Bridau gave carte blanche to the perfidious doctor, who made the + most of his son-in-law’s blindness, as the following history will show. + </p> + <p> + Madame Rouget, or, to speak more correctly, the doctor, inherited all the + property, landed and personal, of Monsieur and Madame Descoings the elder, + who died within two years of each other; and soon after that, Rouget got + the better, as we may say, of his wife, for she died at the beginning of + the year 1799. So he had vineyards and he bought farms, he owned + iron-works and he sold fleeces. His well-beloved son was stupidly + incapable of doing anything; but the father destined him for the state in + life of a land proprietor and allowed him to grow up in wealth and + silliness, certain that the lad would know as much as the wisest if he + simply let himself live and die. After 1799, the cipherers of Issoudun + put, at the very least, thirty thousand francs’ income to the doctor’s + credit. From the time of his wife’s death he led a debauched life, though + he regulated it, so to speak, and kept it within the closed doors of his + own house. This man, endowed with “strength of character,” died in 1805, + and God only knows what the townspeople of Issoudun said about him then, + and how many anecdotes they related of his horrible private life. + Jean-Jacques Rouget, whom his father, recognizing his stupidity, had + latterly treated with severity, remained a bachelor for certain reasons, + the explanation of which will form an important part of this history. His + celibacy was partly his father’s fault, as we shall see later. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, it is well to inquire into the results of the secret vengeance + the doctor took on a daughter whom he did not recognize as his own, but + who, you must understand at once, was legitimately his. Not a person in + Issoudun had noticed one of those capricious facts that make the whole + subject of generation a vast abyss in which science flounders. Agathe bore + a strong likeness to the mother of Doctor Rouget. Just as gout is said to + skip a generation and pass from grandfather to grandson, resemblances not + uncommonly follow the same course. + </p> + <p> + In like manner, the eldest of Agathe’s children, who physically resembled + his mother, had the moral qualities of his grandfather, Doctor Rouget. We + will leave the solution of this problem to the twentieth century, with a + fine collection of microscopic animalculae; our descendants may perhaps + write as much nonsense as the scientific schools of the nineteenth century + have uttered on this mysterious and perplexing question. + </p> + <p> + Agathe Rouget attracted the admiration of everyone by a face destined, + like that of Mary, the mother of our Lord, to continue ever virgin, even + after marriage. Her portrait, still to be seen in the atelier of Bridau, + shows a perfect oval and a clear whiteness of complexion, without the + faintest tinge of color, in spite of her golden hair. More than one + artist, looking at the pure brow, the discreet, composed mouth, the + delicate nose, the small ears, the long lashes, and the dark-blue eyes + filled with tenderness,—in short, at the whole countenance + expressive of placidity,—has asked the great artist, “Is that a copy + of a Raphael?” No man ever acted under a truer inspiration than the + minister’s secretary when he married this young girl. Agathe was an + embodiment of the ideal housekeeper brought up in the provinces and never + parted from her mother. Pious, though far from sanctimonious, she had no + other education than that given to women by the Church. Judged, by + ordinary standards, she was an accomplished wife, yet her ignorance of + life paved the way for great misfortunes. The epitaph on the Roman matron, + “She did needlework and kept the house,” gives a faithful picture of her + simple, pure, and tranquil existence. + </p> + <p> + Under the Consulate, Bridau attached himself fanatically to Napoleon, who + placed him at the head of a department in the ministry of the interior in + 1804, a year before the death of Doctor Rouget. With a salary of twelve + thousand francs and very handsome emoluments, Bridau was quite indifferent + to the scandalous settlement of the property at Issoudun, by which Agathe + was deprived of her rightful inheritance. Six months before Doctor + Rouget’s death he had sold one-half of his property to his son, to whom + the other half was bequeathed as a gift, and also in accordance with his + rights as heir. An advance of fifty thousand francs on her inheritance, + made to Agathe at the time of her marriage, represented her share of the + property of her father and mother. + </p> + <p> + Bridau idolized the Emperor, and served him with the devotion of a + Mohammedan for his prophet; striving to carry out the vast conceptions of + the modern demi-god, who, finding the whole fabric of France destroyed, + went to work to reconstruct everything. The new official never showed + fatigue, never cried “Enough.” Projects, reports, notes, studies, he + accepted all, even the hardest labors, happy in the consciousness of + aiding his Emperor. He loved him as a man, he adored him as a sovereign, + and he would never allow the least criticism of his acts or his purposes. + </p> + <p> + From 1804 to 1808, the Bridaus lived in a handsome suite of rooms on the + Quai Voltaire, a few steps from the ministry of the interior and close to + the Tuileries. A cook and footman were the only servants of the household + during this period of Madame Bridau’s grandeur. Agathe, early afoot, went + to market with her cook. While the latter did the rooms, she prepared the + breakfast. Bridau never went to the ministry before eleven o’clock. As + long as their union lasted, his wife took the same unwearying pleasure in + preparing for him an exquisite breakfast, the only meal he really enjoyed. + At all seasons and in all weathers, Agathe watched her husband from the + window as he walked toward his office, and never drew in her head until + she had seen him turn the corner of the rue du Bac. Then she cleared the + breakfast-table herself, gave an eye to the arrangement of the rooms, + dressed for the day, played with her children and took them to walk, or + received the visits of friends; all the while waiting in spirit for + Bridau’s return. If her husband brought him important business that had to + be attended to, she would station herself close to the writing-table in + his study, silent as a statue, knitting while he wrote, sitting up as late + as he did, and going to bed only a few moments before him. Occasionally, + the pair went to some theatre, occupying one of the ministerial boxes. On + those days, they dined at a restaurant, and the gay scenes of that + establishment never ceased to give Madame Bridau the same lively pleasure + they afford to provincials who are new to Paris. Agathe, who was obliged + to accept the formal dinners sometimes given to the head of a department + in a ministry, paid due attention to the luxurious requirements of the + then mode of dress, but she took off the rich apparel with delight when + she returned home, and resumed the simple garb of a provincial. One day in + the week, Thursday, Bridau received his friends, and he also gave a grand + ball, annually, on Shrove Tuesday. + </p> + <p> + These few words contain the whole history of their conjugal life, which + had but three events; the births of two children, born three years apart, + and the death of Bridau, who died in 1808, killed by overwork at the very + moment when the Emperor was about to appoint him director-general, count, + and councillor of state. At this period of his reign, Napoleon was + particularly absorbed in the affairs of the interior; he overwhelmed + Bridau with work, and finally wrecked the health of that dauntless + bureaucrat. The Emperor, of whom Bridau had never asked a favor, made + inquiries into his habits and fortune. Finding that this devoted servant + literally had nothing but his situation, Napoleon recognized him as one of + the incorruptible natures which raised the character of his government and + gave moral weight to it, and he wished to surprise him by the gift of some + distinguished reward. But the effort to complete a certain work, involving + immense labor, before the departure of the Emperor for Spain caused the + death of the devoted servant, who was seized with an inflammatory fever. + When the Emperor, who remained in Paris for a few days after his return to + prepare for the campaign of 1809, was told of Bridau’s death he said: + “There are men who can never be replaced.” Struck by the spectacle of a + devotion which could receive none of the brilliant recognitions that + reward a soldier, the Emperor resolved to create an order to requite civil + services, just as he had already created the Legion of honor to reward the + military. The impression he received from the death of Bridau led him to + plan the order of the Reunion. He had not time, however, to mature this + aristocratic scheme, the recollection of which is now so completely + effaced that many of my readers may ask what were its insignia: the order + was worn with a blue ribbon. The Emperor called it the Reunion, under the + idea of uniting the order of the Golden Fleece of Spain with the order of + the Golden Fleece of Austria. “Providence,” said a Prussian diplomatist, + “took care to frustrate the profanation.” + </p> + <p> + After Bridau’s death the Emperor inquired into the circumstances of his + widow. Her two sons each received a scholarship in the Imperial Lyceum, + and the Emperor paid the whole costs of their education from his privy + purse. He gave Madame Bridau a pension of four thousand francs, intending, + no doubt, to advance the fortune of her sons in future years. + </p> + <p> + From the time of her marriage to the death of her husband, Agathe had held + no communication with Issoudun. She lost her mother just as she was on the + point of giving birth to her youngest son, and when her father, who, as + she well knew, loved her little, died, the coronation of the Emperor was + at hand, and that event gave Bridau so much additional work that she was + unwilling to leave him. Her brother, Jean-Jacques Rouget, had not written + to her since she left Issoudun. Though grieved by the tacit repudiation of + her family, Agathe had come to think seldom of those who never thought of + her. Once a year she received a letter from her godmother, Madame Hochon, + to whom she replied with commonplaces, paying no heed to the advice which + that pious and excellent woman gave to her, disguised in cautious words. + </p> + <p> + Some time before the death of Doctor Rouget, Madame Hochon had written to + her goddaughter warning her that she would get nothing from her father’s + estate unless she gave a power of attorney to Monsieur Hochon. Agathe was + very reluctant to harass her brother. Whether it were that Bridau thought + the spoliation of his wife in accordance with the laws and customs of + Berry, or that, high-minded as he was, he shared the magnanimity of his + wife, certain it is that he would not listen to Roguin, his notary, who + advised him to take advantage of his ministerial position to contest the + deeds by which the father had deprived the daughter of her legitimate + inheritance. Husband and wife thus tacitly sanctioned what was done at + Issoudun. Nevertheless, Roguin had forced Bridau to reflect upon the + future interests of his wife which were thus compromised. He saw that if + he died before her, Agathe would be left without property, and this led + him to look into his own affairs. He found that between 1793 and 1805 his + wife and he had been obliged to use nearly thirty thousand of the fifty + thousand francs in cash which old Rouget had given to his daughter at the + time of her marriage. He at once invested the remaining twenty thousand in + the public funds, then quoted at forty, and from this source Agathe + received about two thousand francs a year. As a widow, Madame Bridau could + live suitably on an income of six thousand francs. With provincial good + sense, she thought of changing her residence, dismissing the footman, and + keeping no servant except a cook; but her intimate friend, Madame + Descoings, who insisted on being considered her aunt, sold her own + establishment and came to live with Agathe, turning the study of the late + Bridau into her bedroom. + </p> + <p> + The two widows clubbed their revenues, and so were in possession of a + joint income of twelve thousand francs a year. This seems a very simple + and natural proceeding. But nothing in life is more deserving of attention + than the things that are called natural; we are on our guard against the + unnatural and extraordinary. For this reason, you will find men of + experience—lawyers, judges, doctors, and priests—attaching + immense importance to simple matters; and they are often thought + over-scrupulous. But the serpent amid flowers is one of the finest myths + that antiquity has bequeathed for the guidance of our lives. How often we + hear fools, trying to excuse themselves in their own eyes or in the eyes + of others, exclaiming, “It was all so natural that any one would have been + taken in.” + </p> + <p> + In 1809, Madame Descoings, who never told her age, was sixty-five. In her + heyday she had been popularly called a beauty, and was now one of those + rare women whom time respects. She owed to her excellent constitution the + privilege of preserving her good looks, which, however, would not bear + close examination. She was of medium height, plump, and fresh, with fine + shoulders and a rather rosy complexion. Her blond hair, bordering on + chestnut, showed, in spite of her husband’s catastrophe, not a tinge of + gray. She loved good cheer, and liked to concoct nice little made dishes; + yet, fond as she was of eating, she also adored the theatre and cherished + a vice which she wrapped in impenetrable mystery—she bought into + lotteries. Can that be the abyss of which mythology warns us under the + fable of the Danaides and their cask? Madame Descoings, like other women + who are lucky enough to keep young for many years, spend rather too much + upon her dress; but aside from these trifling defects she was the + pleasantest of women to live with. Of every one’s opinion, never opposing + anybody, her kindly and communicative gayety gave pleasure to all. She + had, moreover, a Parisian quality which charmed the retired clerks and + elderly merchants of her circle,—she could take and give a jest. If + she did not marry a third time it was no doubt the fault of the times. + During the wars of the Empire, marrying men found rich and handsome girls + too easily to trouble themselves about women of sixty. + </p> + <p> + Madame Descoings, always anxious to cheer Madame Bridau, often took the + latter to the theatre, or to drive; prepared excellent little dinners for + her delectation, and even tried to marry her to her own son by her first + husband, Bixiou. Alas! to do this, she was forced to reveal a terrible + secret, carefully kept by her, by her late husband, and by her notary. The + young and beautiful Madame Descoings, who passed for thirty-six years old, + had a son who was thirty-five, named Bixiou, already a widower, a major in + the Twenty-Fourth Infantry, who subsequently perished at Lutzen, leaving + behind him an only son. Madame Descoings, who only saw her grandson + secretly, gave out that he was the son of the first wife of her first + husband. The revelation was partly a prudential act; for this grandson was + being educated with Madame Bridau’s sons at the Imperial Lyceum, where he + had a half-scholarship. The lad, who was clever and shrewd at school, soon + after made himself a great reputation as draughtsman and designer, and + also as a wit. + </p> + <p> + Agathe, who lived only for her children, declined to re-marry, as much + from good sense as from fidelity to her husband. But it is easier for a + woman to be a good wife than to be a good mother. A widow has two tasks + before her, whose duties clash: she is a mother, and yet she must exercise + parental authority. Few women are firm enough to understand and practise + this double duty. Thus it happened that Agathe, notwithstanding her many + virtues, was the innocent cause of great unhappiness. In the first place, + through her lack of intelligence and the blind confidence to which such + noble natures are prone, Agathe fell a victim to Madame Descoings, who + brought a terrible misfortune on the family. That worthy soul was nursing + up a combination of three numbers called a “trey” in a lottery, and + lotteries give no credit to their customers. As manager of the joint + household, she was able to pay up her stakes with the money intended for + their current expenses, and she went deeper and deeper into debt, with the + hope of ultimately enriching her grandson Bixiou, her dear Agathe, and the + little Bridaus. When the debts amounted to ten thousand francs, she + increased her stakes, trusting that her favorite trey, which had not + turned up in nine years, would come at last, and fill to overflowing the + abysmal deficit. + </p> + <p> + From that moment the debt rolled up rapidly. When it reached twenty + thousand francs, Madame Descoings lost her head, still failing to win the + trey. She tried to mortgage her own property to pay her niece, but Roguin, + who was her notary, showed her the impossibility of carrying out that + honorable intention. The late Doctor Rouget had laid hold of the property + of the brother-in-law after the grocer’s execution, and had, as it were, + disinherited Madame Descoings by securing to her a life-interest on the + property of his own son, Jean-Jacques Rouget. No money-lender would think + of advancing twenty thousand francs to a woman sixty-six years of age, on + an annuity of about four thousand, at a period when ten per cent could + easily be got for an investment. So one morning Madame Descoings fell at + the feet of her niece, and with sobs confessed the state of things. Madame + Bridau did not reproach her; she sent away the footman and cook, sold all + but the bare necessities of her furniture, sold also three-fourths of her + government funds, paid off the debts, and bade farewell to her <i>appartement</i>. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + One of the worst corners in all Paris is undoubtedly that part of the rue + Mazarin which lies between the rue Guenegard and its junction with the rue + de Seine, behind the palace of the Institute. The high gray walls of the + college and of the library which Cardinal Mazarin presented to the city of + Paris, and which the French Academy was in after days to inhabit, cast + chill shadows over this angle of the street, where the sun seldom shines, + and the north wind blows. The poor ruined widow came to live on the third + floor of a house standing at this damp, dark, cold corner. Opposite, rose + the Institute buildings, in which were the dens of ferocious animals known + to the bourgeoisie under the name of artists,—under that of tyro, or + rapin, in the studios. Into these dens they enter rapins, but they may + come forth prix de Rome. The transformation does not take place without + extraordinary uproar and disturbance at the time of year when the + examinations are going on, and the competitors are shut up in their cells. + To win a prize, they were obliged, within a given time, to make, if a + sculptor, a clay model; if a painter, a picture such as may be seen at the + Ecole des Beaux-Arts; if a musician, a cantata; if an architect, the plans + for a public building. At the time when we are penning the words, this + menagerie has already been removed from these cold and cheerless + buildings, and taken to the elegant Palais des Beaux-Arts, which stands + near by. + </p> + <p> + From the windows of Madame Bridau’s new abode, a glance could penetrate + the depths of those melancholy barred cages. To the north, the view was + shut in by the dome of the Institute; looking up the street, the only + distraction to the eye was a file of hackney-coaches, which stood at the + upper end of the rue Mazarin. After a while, the widow put boxes of earth + in front of her windows, and cultivated those aerial gardens that police + regulations forbid, though their vegetable products purify the atmosphere. + The house, which backed up against another fronting on the rue de Seine, + was necessarily shallow, and the staircase wound round upon itself. The + third floor was the last. Three windows to three rooms, namely, a + dining-room, a small salon, and a chamber on one side of the landing; on + the other, a little kitchen, and two single rooms; above, an immense + garret without partitions. Madame Bridau chose this lodging for three + reasons: economy, for it cost only four hundred francs a year, so that she + took a lease of it for nine years; proximity to her sons’ school, the + Imperial Lyceum being at a short distance; thirdly, because it was in the + quarter to which she was used. + </p> + <p> + The inside of the <i>appartement</i> was in keeping with the general look + of the house. The dining-room, hung with a yellow paper covered with + little green flowers, and floored with tiles that were not glazed, + contained nothing that was not strictly necessary,—namely, a table, + two sideboards, and six chairs, brought from the other <i>appartement</i>. + The salon was adorned with an Aubusson carpet given to Bridau when the + ministry of the interior was refurnished. To the furniture of this room + the widow added one of those commonplace mahogany sofas with the Egyptian + heads that Jacob Desmalter manufactured by the gross in 1806, covering + them with a silken green stuff bearing a design of white geometric + circles. Above this piece of furniture hung a portrait of Bridau, done in + pastel by the hand of an amateur, which at once attracted the eye. Though + art might have something to say against it, no one could fail to recognize + the firmness of the noble and obscure citizen upon that brow. The serenity + of the eyes, gentle, yet proud, was well given; the sagacious mind, to + which the prudent lips bore testimony, the frank smile, the atmosphere of + the man of whom the Emperor had said, “Justum et tenacem,” had all been + caught, if not with talent, at least with fidelity. Studying that face, an + observer could see that the man had done his duty. His countenance bore + signs of the incorruptibility which we attribute to several men who served + the Republic. On the opposite wall, over a card-table, flashed a picture + of the Emperor in brilliant colors, done by Vernet; Napoleon was riding + rapidly, attended by his escort. + </p> + <p> + Agathe had bestowed upon herself two large birdcages; one filled with + canaries, the other with Java sparrows. She had given herself up to this + juvenile fancy since the loss of her husband, irreparable to her, as, in + fact, it was to many others. By the end of three months, her widowed + chamber had become what it was destined to remain until the appointed day + when she left it forever,—a litter of confusion which words are + powerless to describe. Cats were domiciled on the sofa. The canaries, + occasionally let loose, left their commas on the furniture. The poor dear + woman scattered little heaps of millet and bits of chickweed about the + room, and put tidbits for the cats in broken saucers. Garments lay + everywhere. The room breathed of the provinces and of constancy. + Everything that once belonged to Bridau was scrupulously preserved. Even + the implements in his desk received the care which the widow of a paladin + might have bestowed upon her husband’s armor. One slight detail here will + serve to bring the tender devotion of this woman before the reader’s mind. + She had wrapped up a pen and sealed the package, on which she wrote these + words, “Last pen used by my dear husband.” The cup from which he drank his + last draught was on the fireplace; caps and false hair were tossed, at a + later period, over the glass globes which covered these precious relics. + After Bridau’s death not a trace of coquetry, not even a woman’s ordinary + care of her person, was left in the young widow of thirty-five. Parted + from the only man she had ever known, esteemed, and loved, from one who + had never caused her the slightest unhappiness, she was no longer + conscious of her womanhood; all things were as nothing to her; she no + longer even thought of her dress. Nothing was ever more simply done or + more complete than this laying down of conjugal happiness and personal + charm. Some human beings obtain through love the power of transferring + their self—their I—to the being of another; and when death + takes that other, no life of their own is possible for them. + </p> + <p> + Agathe, who now lived only for her children, was infinitely sad at the + thought of the privations this financial ruin would bring upon them. From + the time of her removal to the rue Mazarin a shade of melancholy came upon + her face, which made it very touching. She hoped a little in the Emperor; + but the Emperor at that time could do no more than he was already doing; + he was giving three hundred francs a year to each child from his privy + purse, besides the scholarships. + </p> + <p> + As for the brilliant Descoings, she occupied an <i>appartement</i> on the + second floor similar to that of her niece above her. She had made Madame + Bridau an assignment of three thousand francs out of her annuity. Roguin, + the notary, attended to this in Madame Bridau’s interest; but it would + take seven years of such slow repayment to make good the loss. The + Descoings, thus reduced to an income of twelve hundred francs, lived with + her niece in a small way. These excellent but timid creatures employed a + woman-of-all-work for the morning hours only. Madame Descoings, who liked + to cook, prepared the dinner. In the evenings a few old friends, persons + employed at the ministry who owed their places to Bridau, came for a game + of cards with the two widows. Madame Descoings still cherished her trey, + which she declared was obstinate about turning up. She expected, by one + grand stroke, to repay the enforced loan she had made upon her niece. She + was fonder of the little Bridaus than she was of her grandson Bixiou,—partly + from a sense of the wrong she had done them, partly because she felt the + kindness of her niece, who, under her worst deprivations, never uttered a + word of reproach. So Philippe and Joseph were cossetted, and the old + gambler in the Imperial Lottery of France (like others who have a vice or + a weakness to atone for) cooked them nice little dinners with plenty of + sweets. Later on, Philippe and Joseph could extract from her pocket, with + the utmost facility, small sums of money, which the younger used for + pencils, paper, charcoal and prints, the elder to buy tennis-shoes, + marbles, twine, and pocket-knives. Madame Descoings’s passion forced her + to be content with fifty francs a month for her domestic expenses, so as + to gamble with the rest. + </p> + <p> + On the other hand, Madame Bridau, motherly love, kept her expenses down to + the same sum. By way of penance for her former over-confidence, she + heroically cut off her own little enjoyments. As with other timid souls of + limited intelligence, one shock to her feelings rousing her distrust led + her to exaggerate a defect in her character until it assumed the + consistency of a virtue. The Emperor, she said to herself, might forget + them; he might die in battle; her pension, at any rate, ceased with her + life. She shuddered at the risk her children ran of being left alone in + the world without means. Quite incapable of understanding Roguin when he + explained to her that in seven years Madame Descoings’s assignment would + replace the money she had sold out of the Funds, she persisted in trusting + neither the notary nor her aunt, nor even the government; she believed in + nothing but herself and the privations she was practising. By laying aside + three thousand francs every year from her pension, she would have thirty + thousand francs at the end of ten years; which would give fifteen hundred + a year to her children. At thirty-six, she might expect to live twenty + years longer; and if she kept to the same system of economy she might + leave to each child enough for the bare necessaries of life. + </p> + <p> + Thus the two widows passed from hollow opulence to voluntary poverty,—one + under the pressure of a vice, the other through the promptings of the + purest virtue. None of these petty details are useless in teaching the + lesson which ought to be learned from this present history, drawn as it is + from the most commonplace interests of life, but whose bearings are, it + may be, only the more widespread. The view from the windows into the + student dens; the tumult of the rapins below; the necessity of looking up + at the sky to escape the miserable sights of the damp angle of the street; + the presence of that portrait, full of soul and grandeur despite the + workmanship of an amateur painter; the sight of the rich colors, now old + and harmonious, in that calm and placid home; the preference of the mother + for her eldest child; her opposition to the tastes of the younger; in + short, the whole body of facts and circumstances which make the preamble + of this history are perhaps the generating causes to which we owe Joseph + Bridau, one of the greatest painters of the modern French school of art. + </p> + <p> + Philippe, the elder of the two sons, was strikingly like his mother. + Though a blond lad, with blue eyes, he had the daring look which is + readily taken for intrepidity and courage. Old Claparon, who entered the + ministry of the interior at the same time as Bridau, and was one of the + faithful friends who played whist every night with the two widows, used to + say of Philippe two or three times a month, giving him a tap on the cheek, + “Here’s a young rascal who’ll stand to his guns!” The boy, thus + stimulated, naturally and out of bravado, assumed a resolute manner. That + turn once given to his character, he became very adroit at all bodily + exercises; his fights at the Lyceum taught him the endurance and contempt + for pain which lays the foundation of military valor. He also acquired, + very naturally, a distaste for study; public education being unable to + solve the difficult problem of developing “pari passu” the body and the + mind. + </p> + <p> + Agathe believed that the purely physical resemblance which Philippe bore + to her carried with it a moral likeness; and she confidently expected him + to show at a future day her own delicacy of feeling, heightened by the + vigor of manhood. Philippe was fifteen years old when his mother moved + into the melancholy <i>appartement</i> in the rue Mazarin; and the winning + ways of a lad of that age went far to confirm the maternal beliefs. + Joseph, three years younger, was like his father, but only on the + defective side. In the first place, his thick black hair was always in + disorder, no matter what pains were taken with it; while Philippe’s, + notwithstanding his vivacity, was invariably neat. Then, by some + mysterious fatality, Joseph could not keep his clothes clean; dress him in + new clothes, and he immediately made them look like old ones. The elder, + on the other hand, took care of his things out of mere vanity. + Unconsciously, the mother acquired a habit of scolding Joseph and holding + up his brother as an example to him. Agathe did not treat the two children + alike; when she went to fetch them from school, the thought in her mind as + to Joseph always was, “What sort of state shall I find him in?” These + trifles drove her heart into the gulf of maternal preference. + </p> + <p> + No one among the very ordinary persons who made the society of the two + widows—neither old Du Bruel nor old Claparon, nor Desroches the + father, nor even the Abbe Loraux, Agathe’s confessor—noticed + Joseph’s faculty for observation. Absorbed in the line of his own tastes, + the future colorist paid no attention to anything that concerned himself. + During his childhood this disposition was so like torpor that his father + grew uneasy about him. The remarkable size of the head and the width of + the brow roused a fear that the child might be liable to water on the + brain. His distressful face, whose originality was thought ugliness by + those who had no eye for the moral value of a countenance, wore rather a + sullen expression during his childhood. The features, which developed + later in life, were pinched, and the close attention the child paid to + what went on about him still further contracted them. Philippe flattered + his mother’s vanity, but Joseph won no compliments. Philippe sparkled with + the clever sayings and lively answers that lead parents to believe their + boys will turn out remarkable men; Joseph was taciturn, and a dreamer. The + mother hoped great things of Philippe, and expected nothing of Joseph. + </p> + <p> + Joseph’s predilection for art was developed by a very commonplace + incident. During the Easter holidays of 1812, as he was coming home from a + walk in the Tuileries with his brother and Madame Descoings, he saw a + pupil drawing a caricature of some professor on the wall of the Institute, + and stopped short with admiration at the charcoal sketch, which was full + of satire. The next day the child stood at the window watching the pupils + as they entered the building by the door on the rue Mazarin; then he ran + downstairs and slipped furtively into the long courtyard of the Institute, + full of statues, busts, half-finished marbles, plasters, and baked clays; + at all of which he gazed feverishly, for his instinct was awakened, and + his vocation stirred within him. He entered a room on the ground-floor, + the door of which was half open; and there he saw a dozen young men + drawing from a statue, who at once began to make fun of him. + </p> + <p> + “Hi! little one,” cried the first to see him, taking the crumbs of his + bread and scattering them at the child. + </p> + <p> + “Whose child is he?” + </p> + <p> + “Goodness, how ugly!” + </p> + <p> + For a quarter of an hour Joseph stood still and bore the brunt of much + teasing in the atelier of the great sculptor, Chaudet. But after laughing + at him for a time, the pupils were struck with his persistency and with + the expression of his face. They asked him what he wanted. Joseph answered + that he wished to know how to draw; thereupon they all encouraged him. Won + by such friendliness, the child told them he was Madame Bridau’s son. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! if you are Madame Bridau’s son,” they cried, from all parts of the + room, “you will certainly be a great man. Long live the son of Madame + Bridau! Is your mother pretty? If you are a sample of her, she must be + stylish!” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! you want to be an artist?” said the eldest pupil, coming up to + Joseph, “but don’t you know that that requires pluck; you’ll have to bear + all sorts of trials,—yes, trials,—enough to break your legs + and arms and soul and body. All the fellows you see here have gone through + regular ordeals. That one, for instance, he went seven days without + eating! Let me see, now, if you can be an artist.” + </p> + <p> + He took one of the child’s arms and stretched it straight up in the air; + then he placed the other arm as if Joseph were in the act of delivering a + blow with his fist. + </p> + <p> + “Now that’s what we call the telegraph trial,” said the pupil. “If you can + stand like that, without lowering or changing the position of your arms + for a quarter of an hour, then you’ll have proved yourself a plucky one.” + </p> + <p> + “Courage, little one, courage!” cried all the rest. “You must suffer if + you want to be an artist.” + </p> + <p> + Joseph, with the good faith of his thirteen years, stood motionless for + five minutes, all the pupils gazing solemnly at him. + </p> + <p> + “There! you are moving,” cried one. + </p> + <p> + “Steady, steady, confound you!” cried another. + </p> + <p> + “The Emperor Napoleon stood a whole month as you see him there,” said a + third, pointing to the fine statue by Chaudet, which was in the room. + </p> + <p> + That statue, which represents the Emperor standing with the Imperial + sceptre in his hand, was torn down in 1814 from the column it surmounted + so well. + </p> + <p> + At the end of ten minutes the sweat stood in drops on Joseph’s forehead. + At that moment a bald-headed little man, pale and sickly in appearance, + entered the atelier, where respectful silence reigned at once. + </p> + <p> + “What you are about, you urchins?” he exclaimed, as he looked at the + youthful martyr. + </p> + <p> + “That is a good little fellow, who is posing,” said the tall pupil who had + placed Joseph. + </p> + <p> + “Are you not ashamed to torture a poor child in that way?” said Chaudet, + lowering Joseph’s arms. “How long have you been standing there?” he asked + the boy, giving him a friendly little pat on the cheek. + </p> + <p> + “A quarter of an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “What brought you here?” + </p> + <p> + “I want to be an artist.” + </p> + <p> + “Where do you belong? where do you come from?” + </p> + <p> + “From mamma’s house.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! mamma!” cried the pupils. + </p> + <p> + “Silence at the easels!” cried Chaudet. “Who is your mamma?” + </p> + <p> + “She is Madame Bridau. My papa, who is dead, was a friend of the Emperor; + and if you will teach me to draw, the Emperor will pay all you ask for + it.” + </p> + <p> + “His father was head of a department at the ministry of the Interior,” + exclaimed Chaudet, struck by a recollection. “So you want to be an artist, + at your age?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, come here just as much as you like; we’ll amuse you. Give him a + board, and paper, and chalks, and let him alone. You are to know, you + young scamps, that his father did me a service. Here, Corde-a-puits, go + and get some cakes and sugar-plums,” he said to the pupil who had tortured + Joseph, giving him some small change. “We’ll see if you are to be artist + by the way you gobble up the dainties,” added the sculptor, chucking + Joseph under the chin. + </p> + <p> + Then he went round examining the pupils’ works, followed by the child, who + looked and listened, and tried to understand him. The sweets were brought, + Chaudet, himself, the child, and the whole studio all had their teeth in + them; and Joseph was petted quite as much as he had been teased. The whole + scene, in which the rough play and real heart of artists were revealed, + and which the boy instinctively understood, made a great impression on his + mind. The apparition of the sculptor,—for whom the Emperor’s + protection opened a way to future glory, closed soon after by his + premature death,—was like a vision to little Joseph. The child said + nothing to his mother about this adventure, but he spent two hours every + Sunday and every Thursday in Chaudet’s atelier. From that time forth, + Madame Descoings, who humored the fancies of the two cherubim, kept Joseph + supplied with pencils and red chalks, prints and drawing-paper. At school, + the future colorist sketched his masters, drew his comrades, charcoaled + the dormitories, and showed surprising assiduity in the drawing-class. + Lemire, the drawing-master, struck not only with the lad’s inclination but + also with his actual progress, came to tell Madame Bridau of her son’s + faculty. Agathe, like a true provincial, who knows as little of art as she + knows much of housekeeping, was terrified. When Lemire left her, she burst + into tears. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” she cried, when Madame Descoings went to ask what was the matter. + “What is to become of me! Joseph, whom I meant to make a government clerk, + whose career was all marked out for him at the ministry of the interior, + where, protected by his father’s memory, he might have risen to be chief + of a division before he was twenty-five, he, my boy, he wants to be a + painter,—a vagabond! I always knew that child would give me nothing + but trouble.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Descoings confessed that for several months past she had encouraged + Joseph’s passion, aiding and abetting his Sunday and Thursday visits to + the Institute. At the Salon, to which she had taken him, the little fellow + had shown an interest in the pictures, which was, she declared, nothing + short of miraculous. + </p> + <p> + “If he understands painting at thirteen, my dear,” she said, “your Joseph + will be a man of genius.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; and see what genius did for his father,—killed him with + overwork at forty!” + </p> + <p> + At the close of autumn, just as Joseph was entering his fourteenth year, + Agathe, contrary to Madame Descoings’s entreaties, went to see Chaudet, + and requested that he would cease to debauch her son. She found the + sculptor in a blue smock, modelling his last statue; he received the widow + of the man who formerly had served him at a critical moment, rather + roughly; but, already at death’s door, he was struggling with passionate + ardor to do in a few hours work he could hardly have accomplished in + several months. As Madame Bridau entered, he had just found an effect long + sought for, and was handling his tools and clay with spasmodic jerks and + movements that seemed to the ignorant Agathe like those of a maniac. At + any other time Chaudet would have laughed; but now, as he heard the mother + bewailing the destiny he had opened to her child, abusing art, and + insisting that Joseph should no longer be allowed to enter the atelier, he + burst into a holy wrath. + </p> + <p> + “I was under obligations to your deceased husband, I wished to help his + son, to watch his first steps in the noblest of all careers,” he cried. + “Yes, madame, learn, if you do not know it, that a great artist is a king, + and more than a king; he is happier, he is independent, he lives as he + likes, he reigns in the world of fancy. Your son has a glorious future + before him. Faculties like his are rare; they are only disclosed at his + age in such beings as the Giottos, Raphaels, Titians, Rubens, Murillos,—for, + in my opinion, he will make a better painter than sculptor. God of heaven! + if I had such a son, I should be as happy as the Emperor is to have given + himself the King of Rome. Well, you are mistress of your child’s fate. Go + your own way, madame; make him a fool, a miserable quill-driver, tie him + to a desk, and you’ve murdered him! But I hope, in spite if all your + efforts, that he will stay an artist. A true vocation is stronger than all + the obstacles that can be opposed to it. Vocation! why the very word means + a call; ay, the election of God himself! You will make your child unhappy, + that’s all.” He flung the clay he no longer needed violently into a tub, + and said to his model, “That will do for to-day.” + </p> + <p> + Agathe raised her eyes and saw, in a corner of the atelier where her + glance had not before penetrated, a nude woman sitting on a stool, the + sight of whom drove her away horrified. + </p> + <p> + “You are not to have the little Bridau here any more,” said Chaudet to his + pupils, “it annoys his mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Eugh!” they all cried, as Agathe closed the door. + </p> + <p> + No sooner did the students of sculpture and painting find out that Madame + Bridau did not wish her son to be an artist, than their whole happiness + centred on getting Joseph among them. In spite of a promise not to go to + the Institute which his mother exacted from him, the child often slipped + into Regnauld the painter’s studio, where he was encouraged to daub + canvas. When the widow complained that the bargain was not kept, Chaudet’s + pupils assured her that Regnauld was not Chaudet, and they hadn’t the + bringing up of her son, with other impertinences; and the atrocious young + scamps composed a song with a hundred and thirty-seven couplets on Madame + Bridau. + </p> + <p> + On the evening of that sad day Agathe refused to play at cards, and sat on + her sofa plunged in such grief that the tears stood in her handsome eyes. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter, Madame Bridau?” asked old Claparon. + </p> + <p> + “She thinks her boy will have to beg his bread because he has got the bump + of painting,” said Madame Descoings; “but, for my part, I am not the least + uneasy about the future of my step-son, little Bixiou, who has a passion + for drawing. Men are born to get on.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right,” said the hard and severe Desroches, who, in spite of his + talents, had never himself got on in the position of assistant-head of a + department. “Happily I have only one son; otherwise, with my eighteen + hundred francs a year, and a wife who makes barely twelve hundred out of + her stamped-paper office, I don’t know what would become of me. I have + just placed my boy as under-clerk to a lawyer; he gets twenty-five francs + a month and his breakfast. I give him as much more, and he dines and + sleeps at home. That’s all he gets; he must manage for himself, but he’ll + make his way. I keep the fellow harder at work than if he were at school, + and some day he will be a barrister. When I give him money to go to the + theatre, he is as happy as a king and kisses me. Oh, I keep a tight hand + on him, and he renders me an account of all he spends. You are too good to + your children, Madame Bridau; if your son wants to go through hardships + and privations, let him; they’ll make a man of him.” + </p> + <p> + “As for my boy,” said Du Bruel, a former chief of a division, who had just + retired on a pension, “he is only sixteen; his mother dotes on him; but I + shouldn’t listen to his choosing a profession at his age,—a mere + fancy, a notion that may pass off. In my opinion, boys should be guided + and controlled.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, monsieur! you are rich, you are a man, and you have but one son,” + said Agathe. + </p> + <p> + “Faith!” said Claparon, “children do tyrannize over us—over our + hearts, I mean. Mine makes me furious; he has nearly ruined me, and now I + won’t have anything to do with him—it’s a sort of independence. + Well, he is the happier for it, and so am I. That fellow was partly the + cause of his mother’s death. He chose to be a commercial traveller; and + the trade just suited him, for he was no sooner in the house than he + wanted to be out of it; he couldn’t keep in one place, and he wouldn’t + learn anything. All I ask of God is that I may die before he dishonors my + name. Those who have no children lose many pleasures, but they escape + great sufferings.” + </p> + <p> + “And these men are fathers!” thought Agathe, weeping anew. + </p> + <p> + “What I am trying to show you, my dear Madame Bridau, is that you had + better let your boy be a painter; if not, you will only waste your time.” + </p> + <p> + “If you were able to coerce him,” said the sour Desroches, “I should + advise you to oppose his tastes; but weak as I see you are, you had better + let him daub if he likes.” + </p> + <p> + “Console yourself, Agathe,” said Madame Descoings, “Joseph will turn out a + great man.” + </p> + <p> + After this discussion, which was like all discussions, the widow’s friends + united in giving her one and the same advice; which advice did not in the + least relieve her anxieties. They advised her to let Joseph follow his + bent. + </p> + <p> + “If he doesn’t turn out a genius,” said Du Bruel, who always tried to + please Agathe, “you can then get him into some government office.” + </p> + <p> + When Madame Descoings accompanied the old clerks to the door she assured + them, at the head of the stairs, that they were “Grecian sages.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame Bridau ought to be glad her son is willing to do anything,” said + Claparon. + </p> + <p> + “Besides,” said Desroches, “if God preserves the Emperor, Joseph will + always be looked after. Why should she worry?” + </p> + <p> + “She is timid about everything that concerns her children,” answered + Madame Descoings. “Well, my good girl,” she said, returning to Agathe, + “you see they are unanimous; why are you still crying?” + </p> + <p> + “If it was Philippe, I should have no anxiety. But you don’t know what + goes on in that atelier; they have naked women!” + </p> + <p> + “I hope they keep good fires,” said Madame Descoings. + </p> + <p> + A few days after this, the disasters of the retreat from Moscow became + known. Napoleon returned to Paris to organize fresh troops, and to ask + further sacrifices from the country. The poor mother was then plunged into + very different anxieties. Philippe, who was tired of school, wanted to + serve under the Emperor; he saw a review at the Tuileries,—the last + Napoleon ever held,—and he became infatuated with the idea of a + soldier’s life. In those days military splendor, the show of uniforms, the + authority of epaulets, offered irresistible seductions to a certain style + of youth. Philippe thought he had the same vocation for the army that his + brother Joseph showed for art. Without his mother’s knowledge, he wrote a + petition to the Emperor, which read as follows:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Sire,—I am the son of your Bridau; eighteen years of age, five + feet six inches; I have good legs, a good constitution, and wish + to be one of your soldiers. I ask you to let me enter the army, + etc. +</pre> + <p> + Within twenty-four hours, the Emperor had sent Philippe to the Imperial + Lyceum at Saint-Cyr, and six months later, in November, 1813, he appointed + him sub-lieutenant in a regiment of cavalry. Philippe spent the greater + part of that winter in cantonments, but as soon as he knew how to ride a + horse he was dispatched to the front, and went eagerly. During the + campaign in France he was made a lieutenant, after an affair at the + outposts where his bravery had saved his colonel’s life. The Emperor named + him captain at the battle of La Fere-Champenoise, and took him on his + staff. Inspired by such promotion, Philippe won the cross at Montereau. He + witnessed Napoleon’s farewell at Fontainebleau, raved at the sight, and + refused to serve the Bourbons. When he returned to his mother, in July, + 1814, he found her ruined. + </p> + <p> + Joseph’s scholarship was withdrawn after the holidays, and Madame Bridau, + whose pension came from the Emperor’s privy purse, vainly entreated that + it might be inscribed on the rolls of the ministry of the interior. + Joseph, more of a painter than ever, was delighted with the turn of + events, and entreated his mother to let him go to Monsieur Regnauld, + promising to earn his own living. He declared he was quite sufficiently + advanced in the second class to get on without rhetoric. Philippe, a + captain at nineteen and decorated, who had, moreover, served the Emperor + as an aide-de-camp in two battles, flattered the mother’s vanity + immensely. Coarse, blustering, and without real merit beyond the vulgar + bravery of a cavalry officer, he was to her mind a man of genius; whereas + Joseph, puny and sickly, with unkempt hair and absent mind, seeking peace, + loving quiet, and dreaming of an artist’s glory, would only bring her, she + thought, worries and anxieties. + </p> + <p> + The winter of 1814-1815 was a lucky one for Joseph. Secretly encouraged by + Madame Descoings and Bixiou, a pupil of Gros, he went to work in the + celebrated atelier of that painter, whence a vast variety of talent issued + in its day, and there he formed the closest intimacy with Schinner. The + return from Elba came; Captain Bridau joined the Emperor at Lyons, + accompanied him to the Tuileries, and was appointed to the command of a + squadron in the dragoons of the Guard. After the battle of Waterloo—in + which he was slightly wounded, and where he won the cross of an officer of + the Legion of honor—he happened to be near Marshal Davoust at + Saint-Denis, and was not with the army of the Loire. In consequence of + this, and through Davoust’s intercession, his cross and his rank were + secured to him, but he was placed on half-pay. + </p> + <p> + Joseph, anxious about his future, studied all through this period with an + ardor which several times made him ill in the midst of these tumultuous + events. + </p> + <p> + “It is the smell of the paints,” Agathe said to Madame Descoings. “He + ought to give up a business so injurious to his health.” + </p> + <p> + However, all Agathe’s anxieties were at this time for her son the + lieutenant-colonel. When she saw him again in 1816, reduced from the + salary of nine thousand francs (paid to a commander in the dragoons of the + Imperial Guard) to a half-pay of three hundred francs a month, she fitted + up her attic rooms for him, and spent her savings in doing so. Philippe + was one of the faithful Bonapartes of the cafe Lemblin, that + constitutional Boeotia; he acquired the habits, manners, style, and life + of a half-pay officer; indeed, like any other young man of twenty-one, he + exaggerated them, vowed in good earnest a mortal enmity to the Bourbons, + never reported himself at the War department, and even refused + opportunities which were offered to him for employment in the infantry + with his rank of lieutenant-colonel. In his mother’s eyes, Philippe seemed + in all this to be displaying a noble character. + </p> + <p> + “The father himself could have done no more,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Philippe’s half-pay sufficed him; he cost nothing at home, whereas all + Joseph’s expenses were paid by the two widows. From that moment, Agathe’s + preference for Philippe was openly shown. Up to that time it had been + secret; but the persecution of this faithful servant of the Emperor, the + recollection of the wound received by her cherished son, his courage in + adversity, which, voluntary though it were, seemed to her a glorious + adversity, drew forth all Agathe’s tenderness. The one sentence, “He is + unfortunate,” explained and justified everything. Joseph himself,—with + the innate simplicity which superabounds in the artist-soul in its opening + years, and who was, moreover, brought up to admire his big brother,—so + far from being hurt by the preference of their mother, encouraged it by + sharing her worship of the hero who had carried Napoleon’s orders on two + battlefields, and was wounded at Waterloo. How could he doubt the + superiority of the grand brother, whom he had beheld in the green and gold + uniform of the dragoons of the Guard, commanding his squadron on the Champ + de Mars? + </p> + <p> + Agathe, notwithstanding this preference, was an excellent mother. She + loved Joseph, though not blindly; she simply was unable to understand him. + Joseph adored his mother; Philippe let his mother adore him. Towards her, + the dragoon softened his military brutality; but he never concealed the + contempt he felt for Joseph,—expressing it, however, in a friendly + way. When he looked at his brother, weak and sickly as he was at seventeen + years of age, shrunken with determined toil, and over-weighted with his + powerful head, he nicknamed him “Cub.” Philippe’s patronizing manners + would have wounded any one less carelessly indifferent than the artist, + who had, moreover, a firm belief in the goodness of heart which soldiers + hid, he thought, beneath a brutal exterior. Joseph did not yet know, poor + boy, that soldiers of genius are as gentle and courteous in manner as + other superior men in any walk of life. All genius is alike, wherever + found. + </p> + <p> + “Poor boy!” said Philippe to his mother, “we mustn’t plague him; let him + do as he likes.” + </p> + <p> + To his mother’s eyes the colonel’s contempt was a mark of fraternal + affection. + </p> + <p> + “Philippe will always love and protect his brother,” she thought to + herself. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + In 1816, Joseph obtained his mother’s permission to convert the garret + which adjoined his attic room into an atelier, and Madame Descoings gave + him a little money for the indispensable requirements of the painter’s + trade;—in the minds of the two widows, the art of painting was + nothing but a trade. With the feeling and ardor of his vocation, the lad + himself arranged his humble atelier. Madame Descoings persuaded the owner + of the house to put a skylight in the roof. The garret was turned into a + vast hall painted in chocolate-color by Joseph himself. On the walls he + hung a few sketches. Agathe contributed, not without reluctance, an iron + stove; so that her son might be able to work at home, without, however, + abandoning the studio of Gros, nor that of Schinner. + </p> + <p> + The constitutional party, supported chiefly by officers on half-pay and + the Bonapartists, were at this time inciting “emeutes” around the Chamber + of Deputies, on behalf of the Charter, though no one actually wanted it. + Several conspiracies were brewing. Philippe, who dabbled in them, was + arrested, and then released for want of proof; but the minister of war cut + short his half-pay by putting him on the active list,—a step which + might be called a form of discipline. France was no longer safe; Philippe + was liable to fall into some trap laid for him by spies,—provocative + agents, as they were called, being much talked of in those days. + </p> + <p> + While Philippe played billiards in disaffected cafes, losing his time and + acquiring the habit of wetting his whistle with “little glasses” of all + sorts of liquors. Agathe lived in mortal terror for the safety of the + great man of the family. The Grecian sages were too much accustomed to + wend their nightly way up Madame Bridau’s staircase, finding the two + widows ready and waiting, and hearing from them all the news of their day, + ever to break up the habit of coming to the green salon for their game of + cards. The ministry of the interior, though purged of its former <i>employes</i> + in 1816, had retained Claparon, one of those cautious men, who whisper the + news of the “Moniteur,” adding invariably, “Don’t quote me.” Desroches, + who had retired from active service some time after old Du Bruel, was + still battling for his pension. The three friends, who were witnesses of + Agathe’s distress, advised her to send the colonel to travel in foreign + countries. + </p> + <p> + “They talk about conspiracies, and your son, with his disposition, will be + certain to fall a victim in some of them; there is plenty of treachery in + these days.” + </p> + <p> + “Philippe is cut from the wood the Emperor made into marshals,” said Du + Bruel, in a low voice, looking cautiously about him; “and he mustn’t give + up his profession. Let him serve in the East, in India—” + </p> + <p> + “Think of his health,” said Agathe. + </p> + <p> + “Why doesn’t he get some place, or business?” said old Desroches; “there + are plenty of private offices to be had. I am going as head of a bureau in + an insurance company, as soon as I have got my pension.” + </p> + <p> + “Philippe is a soldier; he would not like to be any thing else,” said the + warlike Agathe. + </p> + <p> + “Then he ought to have the sense to ask for employment—” + </p> + <p> + “And serve <i>these others</i>!” cried the widow. “Oh! I will never give + him that advice.” + </p> + <p> + “You are wrong,” said Du Bruel. “My son has just got an appointment + through the Duc de Navarreins. The Bourbons are very good to those who are + sincere in rallying to them. Your son could be appointed + lieutenant-colonel to a regiment.” + </p> + <p> + “They only appoint nobles in the cavalry. Philippe would never rise to be + a colonel,” said Madame Descoings. + </p> + <p> + Agathe, much alarmed, entreated Philippe to travel abroad, and put himself + at the service of some foreign power who, she thought, would gladly + welcome a staff officer of the Emperor. + </p> + <p> + “Serve a foreign nation!” cried Philippe, with horror. + </p> + <p> + Agathe kissed her son with enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + “His father all over!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “He is right,” said Joseph. “France is too proud of her heroes to let them + be heroic elsewhere. Napoleon may return once more.” + </p> + <p> + However, to satisfy his mother, Philippe took up the dazzling idea of + joining General Lallemand in the United States, and helping him to found + what was called the Champ d’Asile, one of the most disastrous swindles + that ever appeared under the name of national subscription. Agathe gave + ten thousand francs to start her son, and she went to Havre to see him + off. By the end of 1817, she had accustomed herself to live on the six + hundred francs a year which remained to her from her property in the + Funds; then, by a lucky chance, she made a good investment of the ten + thousand francs she still kept of her savings, from which she obtained an + interest of seven per cent. Joseph wished to emulate his mother’s + devotion. He dressed like a bailiff; wore the commonest shoes and blue + stockings; denied himself gloves, and burned charcoal; he lived on bread + and milk and Brie cheese. The poor lad got no sympathy, except from Madame + Descoings, and from Bixiou, his student-friend and comrade, who was then + making those admirable caricatures of his, and filling a small office in + the ministry. + </p> + <p> + “With what joy I welcomed the summer of 1818!” said Joseph Bridau in + after-years, relating his troubles; “the sun saved me the cost of + charcoal.” + </p> + <p> + As good a colorist by this time as Gros himself, Joseph now went to his + master for consultation only. He was already meditating a tilt against + classical traditions, and Grecian conventionalities, in short, against the + leading-strings which held down an art to which Nature <i>as she is</i> + belongs, in the omnipotence of her creations and her imagery. Joseph made + ready for a struggle which, from the day when he first exhibited in the + Salon, has never ceased. It was a terrible year. Roguin, the notary of + Madame Descoings and Madame Bridau, absconded with the moneys held back + for seven years from Madame Descoings’s annuity, which by that time were + producing two thousand francs a year. Three days after this disaster, a + bill of exchange for a thousand francs, drawn by Philippe upon his mother, + arrived from New York. The poor fellow, misled like so many others, had + lost his all in the Champ d’Asile. A letter, which accompanied the bill, + drove Agathe, Joseph, and the Descoings to tears, and told of debts + contracted in New York, where his comrades in misfortunes had indorsed for + him. + </p> + <p> + “It was I who made him go!” cried the poor mother, eager to divert the + blame from Philippe. + </p> + <p> + “I advise you not to send him on many such journeys,” said the old + Descoings to her niece. + </p> + <p> + Madame Descoings was heroic. She continued to give the three thousand + francs a year to Madame Bridau, but she still paid the dues on her trey + which had never turned up since the year 1799. About this time, she began + to doubt the honesty of the government, and declared it was capable of + keeping the three numbers in the urn, so as to excite the shareholders to + put in enormous stakes. After a rapid survey of all their resources, it + seemed to the two women impossible to raise the thousand francs without + selling out the little that remained in the Funds. They talked of pawning + their silver and part of the linen, and even the needless pieces of + furniture. Joseph, alarmed at these suggestions, went to see Gerard and + told him their circumstances. The great painter obtained an order from the + household of the king for two copies of a portrait of Louis XVIII., at + five hundred francs each. Though not naturally generous, Gros took his + pupil to an artist-furnishing house and fitted him out with the necessary + materials. But the thousand francs could not be had till the copies were + delivered, so Joseph painted four panels in ten days, sold them to the + dealers and brought his mother the thousand francs with which to meet the + bill of exchange when it fell due. Eight days later, came a letter from + the colonel, informing his mother that he was about to return to France on + board a packet from New York, whose captain had trusted him for the + passage-money. Philippe announced that he should need at least a thousand + francs on his arrival at Havre. + </p> + <p> + “Good,” said Joseph to his mother, “I shall have finished my copies by + that time, and you can carry him the money.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Joseph!” cried Agathe in tears, kissing her son, “God will bless + you. You do love him, then, poor persecuted fellow? He is indeed our glory + and our hope for the future. So young, so brave, so unfortunate! + everything is against him; we three must always stand by him.” + </p> + <p> + “You see now that painting is good for something,” cried Joseph, overjoyed + to have won his mother’s permission to be a great artist. + </p> + <p> + Madame Bridau rushed to meet her beloved son, Colonel Philippe, at Havre. + Once there, she walked every day beyond the round tower built by Francois + I., to look out for the American packet, enduring the keenest anxieties. + Mothers alone know how such sufferings quicken maternal love. The vessel + arrived on a fine morning in October, 1819, without delay, and having met + with no mishap. The sight of a mother and the air of one’s native land + produces a certain affect on the coarsest nature, especially after the + miseries of a sea-voyage. Philippe gave way to a rush of feeling, which + made Agathe think to herself, “Ah! how he loves me!” Alas, the hero loved + but one person in the world, and that person was Colonel Philippe. His + misfortunes in Texas, his stay in New York,—a place where + speculation and individualism are carried to the highest pitch, where the + brutality of self-interest attains to cynicism, where man, essentially + isolated, is compelled to push his way for himself and by himself, where + politeness does not exist,—in fact, even the minor events of + Philippe’s journey had developed in him the worst traits of an old + campaigner: he had grown brutal, selfish, rude; he drank and smoked to + excess; physical hardships and poverty had depraved him. Moreover, he + considered himself persecuted; and the effect of that idea is to make + persons who are unintelligent persecutors and bigots themselves. To + Philippe’s conception of life, the universe began at his head and ended at + his feet, and the sun shone for him alone. The things he had seen in New + York, interpreted by his practical nature, carried away his last scruples + on the score of morality. For such beings, there are but two ways of + existence. Either they believe, or they do not believe; they have the + virtues of honest men, or they give themselves up to the demands of + necessity; in which case they proceed to turn their slightest interests + and each passing impulse of their passions into necessities. + </p> + <p> + Such a system of life carries a man a long way. It was only in appearance + that Colonel Philippe retained the frankness, plain-dealing, and + easy-going freedom of a soldier. This made him, in reality, very + dangerous; he seemed as guileless as a child, but, thinking only of + himself, he never did anything without reflecting what he had better do,—like + a wily lawyer planning some trick “a la Maitre Gonin”; words cost him + nothing, and he said as many as he could to get people to believe. If, + unfortunately, some one refused to accept the explanations with which he + justified the contradictions between his conduct and his professions, the + colonel, who was a good shot and could defy the most adroit + fencing-master, and possessed the coolness of one to whom life is + indifferent, was quite ready to demand satisfaction for the first sharp + word; and when a man shows himself prepared for violence there is little + more to be said. His imposing stature had taken on a certain rotundity, + his face was bronzed from exposure in Texas, he was still succinct in + speech, and had acquired the decisive tone of a man obliged to make + himself feared among the populations of a new world. Thus developed, + plainly dressed, his body trained to endurance by his recent hardships, + Philippe in the eyes of his mother was a hero; in point of fact, he had + simply become what people (not to mince matters) call a blackguard. + </p> + <p> + Shocked at the destitution of her cherished son, Madame Bridau bought him + a complete outfit of clothes at Havre. After listening to the tale of his + woes, she had not the heart to stop his drinking and eating and amusing + himself as a man just returned from the Champ d’Asile was likely to eat + and drink and divert himself. It was certainly a fine conception,—that + of conquering Texas with the remains of the imperial army. The failure was + less in the idea than in the men who conceived it; for Texas is to-day a + republic, with a future full of promise. This scheme of Liberalism under + the Restoration distinctly proves that the interests of the party were + purely selfish and not national, seeking power and nothing else. Neither + men, nor occasion, nor cause, nor devotion were lacking; only the money + and the support of the hypocritical party at home who dispensed enormous + sums, but gave nothing when it came to recovering empire. Household + managers like Agathe have a plain common-sense which enables them to + perceive such political chicane: the poor woman saw the truth through the + lines of her son’s tale; for she had read, in the exile’s interests, all + the pompous editorials of the constitutional journals, and watched the + management of the famous subscription, which produced barely one hundred + and fifty thousand francs when it ought to have yielded five or six + millions. The Liberal leaders soon found out that they were playing into + the hands of Louis XVIII. by exporting the glorious remnants of our grand + army, and they promptly abandoned to their fate the most devoted, the most + ardent, the most enthusiastic of its heroes,—those, in short, who + had gone in the advance. Agathe was never able, however, to make her son + see that he was more duped than persecuted. With blind belief in her idol, + she supposed herself ignorant, and deplored, as Philippe did, the evil + times which had done him such wrong. Up to this time he was, to her mind, + throughout his misfortunes, less faulty than victimized by his noble + nature, his energy, the fall of the Emperor, the duplicity of the + Liberals, and the rancor of the Bourbons against the Bonapartists. During + the week at Havre, a week which was horribly costly, she dared not ask him + to make terms with the royal government and apply to the minister of war. + She had hard work to get him away from Havre, where living is very + expensive, and to bring him back to Paris before her money gave out. + Madame Descoings and Joseph, who were awaiting their arrival in the + courtyard of the coach-office of the Messageries Royales, were struck with + the change in Agathe’s face. + </p> + <p> + “Your mother has aged ten years in two months,” whispered the Descoings to + Joseph, as they all embraced, and the two trunks were being handed down. + </p> + <p> + “How do you do, mere Descoings?” was the cool greeting the colonel + bestowed on the old woman whom Joseph was in the habit of calling “maman + Descoings.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no money to pay for a hackney-coach,” said Agathe, in a sad voice. + </p> + <p> + “I have,” replied the young painter. “What a splendid color Philippe has + turned!” he cried, looking at his brother. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I’ve browned like a pipe,” said Philippe. “But as for you, you’re + not a bit changed, little man.” + </p> + <p> + Joseph, who was now twenty-one, and much thought of by the friends who had + stood by him in his days of trial, felt his own strength and was aware of + his talent; he represented the art of painting in a circle of young men + whose lives were devoted to science, letters, politics, and philosophy. + Consequently, he was wounded by his brother’s contempt, which Philippe + still further emphasized with a gesture, pulling his ears as if he were + still a child. Agathe noticed the coolness which succeeded the first glow + of tenderness on the part of Joseph and Madame Descoings; but she hastened + to tell them of Philippe’s sufferings in exile, and so lessened it. Madame + Descoings, wishing to make a festival of the return of the prodigal, as + she called him under her breath, had prepared one of her good dinners, to + which old Claparon and the elder Desroches were invited. All the family + friends were to come, and did come, in the evening. Joseph had invited + Leon Giraud, d’Arthez, Michel Chrestien, Fulgence Ridal, and Horace + Bianchon, his friends of the fraternity. Madame Descoings had promised + Bixiou, her so-called step-son, that the young people should play at + ecarte. Desroches the younger, who had now taken, under his father’s stern + rule, his degree at law, was also of the party. Du Bruel, Claparon, + Desroches, and the Abbe Loraux carefully observed the returned exile, + whose manners and coarse features, and voice roughened by the abuse of + liquors, together with his vulgar glance and phraseology, alarmed them not + a little. While Joseph was placing the card-tables, the more intimate of + the family friends surrounded Agathe and asked,— + </p> + <p> + “What do you intend to make of Philippe?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” she answered, “but he is determined not to serve the + Bourbons.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it will be very difficult for you to find him a place in France. If + he won’t re-enter the army, he can’t be readily got into government + employ,” said old Du Bruel. “And you have only to listen to him to see he + could never, like my son, make his fortune by writing plays.” + </p> + <p> + The motion of Agathe’s eyes, with which alone she replied to this speech, + showed how anxious Philippe’s future made her; they all kept silence. The + exile himself, Bixiou, and the younger Desroches were playing at ecarte, a + game which was then the rage. + </p> + <p> + “Maman Descoings, my brother has no money to play with,” whispered Joseph + in the good woman’s ear. + </p> + <p> + The devotee of the Royal Lottery fetched twenty francs and gave them to + the artist, who slipped them secretly into his brother’s hand. All the + company were now assembled. There were two tables of boston; and the party + grew lively. Philippe proved a bad player: after winning for awhile, he + began to lose; and by eleven o’clock he owed fifty francs to young + Desroches and to Bixiou. The racket and the disputes at the ecarte table + resounded more than once in the ears of the more peaceful boston players, + who were watching Philippe surreptitiously. The exile showed such signs of + bad temper that in his final dispute with the younger Desroches, who was + none too amiable himself, the elder Desroches joined in, and though his + son was decidedly in the right, he declared he was in the wrong, and + forbade him to play any more. Madame Descoings did the same with her + grandson, who was beginning to let fly certain witticisms; and although + Philippe, so far, had not understood him, there was always a chance that + one of the barbed arrows might piece the colonel’s thick skull and put the + sharp jester in peril. + </p> + <p> + “You must be tired,” whispered Agathe in Philippe’s ear; “come to bed.” + </p> + <p> + “Travel educates youth,” said Bixiou, grinning, when Madame Bridau and the + colonel had disappeared. + </p> + <p> + Joseph, who got up at dawn and went to bed early, did not see the end of + the party. The next morning Agathe and Madame Descoings, while preparing + breakfast, could not help remarking that soires would be terribly + expensive if Philippe were to go on playing that sort of game, as the + Descoings phrased it. The worthy old woman, then seventy-six years of age, + proposed to sell her furniture, give up her <i>appartement</i> on the + second floor (which the owner was only too glad to occupy), and take + Agathe’s parlor for her chamber, making the other room a sitting-room and + dining-room for the family. In this way they could save seven hundred + francs a year; which would enable them to give Philippe fifty francs a + month until he could find something to do. Agathe accepted the sacrifice. + When the colonel came down and his mother had asked how he liked his + little bedroom, the two widows explained to him the situation of the + family. Madame Descoings and Agathe possessed, by putting all their + resources together, an income of five thousand three hundred francs, four + thousand of which belonged to Madame Descoings and were merely a life + annuity. The Descoings made an allowance of six hundred a year to Bixiou, + whom she had acknowledged as her grandson during the last few months, also + six hundred to Joseph; the rest of her income, together with that of + Agathe, was spent for the household wants. All their savings were by this + time eaten up. + </p> + <p> + “Make yourselves easy,” said the lieutenant-colonel. “I’ll find a + situation and put you to no expense; all I need for the present is board + and lodging.” + </p> + <p> + Agathe kissed her son, and Madame Descoings slipped a hundred francs into + his hand to pay for his losses of the night before. In ten days the + furniture was sold, the <i>appartement</i> given up, and the change in + Agathe’s domestic arrangements accomplished with a celerity seldom seen + outside of Paris. During those ten days, Philippe regularly decamped after + breakfast, came back for dinner, was off again for the evening, and only + got home about midnight to go to bed. He contracted certain habits half + mechanically, and they soon became rooted in him; he got his boots blacked + on the Pont Neuf for the two sous it would have cost him to go by the Pont + des Arts to the Palais-Royal, where he consumed regularly two glasses of + brandy while reading the newspapers,—an occupation which employed + him till midday; after that he sauntered along the rue Vivienne to the + cafe Minerve, where the Liberals congregated, and where he played at + billiards with a number of old comrades. While winning and losing, + Philippe swallowed four or five more glasses of divers liquors, and smoked + ten or a dozen cigars in going and coming, and idling along the streets. + In the evening, after consuming a few pipes at the Hollandais + smoking-rooms, he would go to some gambling-place towards ten o’clock at + night. The waiter handed him a card and a pin; he always inquired of + certain well-seasoned players about the chances of the red or the black, + and staked ten francs when the lucky moment seemed to come; never playing + more than three times, win or lose. If he won, which usually happened, he + drank a tumbler of punch and went home to his garret; but by that time he + talked of smashing the ultras and the Bourbon body-guard, and trolled out, + as he mounted the staircase, “We watch to save the Empire!” His poor + mother, hearing him, used to think “How gay Philippe is to-night!” and + then she would creep up and kiss him, without complaining of the fetid + odors of the punch, and the brandy, and the pipes. + </p> + <p> + “You ought to be satisfied with me, my dear mother,” he said, towards the + end of January; “I lead the most regular of lives.” + </p> + <p> + The colonel had dined five times at a restaurant with some of his army + comrades. These old soldiers were quite frank with each other on the state + of their own affairs, all the while talking of certain hopes which they + based on the building of a submarine vessel, expected to bring about the + deliverance of the Emperor. Among these former comrades, Philippe + particularly liked an old captain of the dragoons of the Guard, named + Giroudeau, in whose company he had seen his first service. This friendship + with the late dragoon led Philippe into completing what Rabelais called + “the devil’s equipage”; and he added to his drams, and his tobacco, and + his play, a “fourth wheel.” + </p> + <p> + One evening at the beginning of February, Giroudeau took Philippe after + dinner to the Gaite, occupying a free box sent to a theatrical journal + belonging to his nephew Finot, in whose office Giroudeau was cashier and + secretary. Both were dressed after the fashion of the Bonapartist officers + who now belonged to the Constitutional Opposition; they wore ample + overcoats with square collars, buttoned to the chin and coming down to + their heels, and decorated with the rosette of the Legion of honor; and + they carried malacca canes with loaded knobs, which they held by strings + of braided leather. The late troopers had just (to use one of their own + expressions) “made a bout of it,” and were mutually unbosoming their + hearts as they entered the box. Through the fumes of a certain number of + bottles and various glasses of various liquors, Giroudeau pointed out to + Philippe a plump and agile little ballet-girl whom he called Florentine, + whose good graces and affection, together with the box, belonged to him as + the representative of an all-powerful journal. + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Philippe, “I should like to know how far her good graces go + for such an iron-gray old trooper as you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank God,” replied Giroudeau, “I’ve stuck to the traditions of our + glorious uniform. I have never wasted a farthing upon a woman in my life.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s that?” said Philippe, putting a finger on his left eye. + </p> + <p> + “That is so,” answered Giroudeau. “But, between ourselves, the newspaper + counts for a good deal. To-morrow, in a couple of lines, we shall advise + the managers to let Mademoiselle Florentine dance a particular step, and + so forth. Faith, my dear boy, I’m uncommonly lucky!” + </p> + <p> + “Well!” thought Philippe; “if this worthy Giroudeau, with a skull as + polished as my knee, forty-eight years, a big stomach, a face like a + ploughman, and a nose like a potato, can get a ballet-girl, I ought to be + the lover of the first actress in Paris. Where does one find such luck?” + he said aloud. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll show you Florentine’s place to-night. My Dulcinea only earns fifty + francs a month at the theatre,” added Giroudeau, “but she is very prettily + set up, thanks to an old silk dealer named Cardot, who gives her five + hundred francs a month.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, but—?” exclaimed the jealous Philippe. + </p> + <p> + “Bah!” said Giroudeau; “true love is blind.” + </p> + <p> + When the play was over Giroudeau took Philippe to Mademoiselle + Florentine’s <i>appartement</i>, which was close to the theatre, in the + rue de Crussol. + </p> + <p> + “We must behave ourselves,” said Giroudeau. “Florentine’s mother is here. + You see, I haven’t the means to pay for one, so the worthy woman is really + her own mother. She used to be a concierge, but she’s not without + intelligence. Call her Madame; she makes a point of it.” + </p> + <p> + Florentine happened that night to have a friend with her,—a certain + Marie Godeschal, beautiful as an angel, cold as a danseuse, and a pupil of + Vestris, who foretold for her a great choregraphic destiny. Mademoiselle + Godeschal, anxious to make her first appearance at the Panorama-Dramatique + under the name of Mariette, based her hopes on the protection and + influence of a first gentleman of the bedchamber, to whom Vestris had + promised to introduce her. Vestris, still green himself at this period, + did not think his pupil sufficiently trained to risk the introduction. The + ambitious girl did, in the end, make her pseudonym of Mariette famous; and + the motive of her ambition, it must be said, was praiseworthy. She had a + brother, a clerk in Derville’s law office. Left orphans and very poor, and + devoted to each other, the brother and sister had seen life such as it is + in Paris. The one wished to be a lawyer that he might support his sister, + and he lived on ten sous a day; the other had coldly resolved to be a + dancer, and to profit by her beauty as much as by her legs that she might + buy a practice for her brother. Outside of their feeling for each other, + and of their mutual life and interests, everything was to them, as it once + was to the Romans and the Hebrews, barbaric, outlandish, and hostile. This + generous affection, which nothing ever lessened, explained Mariette to + those who knew her intimately. + </p> + <p> + The brother and sister were living at this time on the eighth floor of a + house in the Vieille rue du Temple. Mariette had begun her studies when + she was ten years old; she was now just sixteen. Alas! for want of + becoming clothes, her beauty, hidden under a coarse shawl, dressed in + calico, and ill-kept, could only be guessed by those Parisians who devote + themselves to hunting grisettes and the quest of beauty in misfortune, as + she trotted past them with mincing step, mounted on iron pattens. Philippe + fell in love with Mariette. To Mariette, Philippe was commander of the + dragoons of the Guard, a staff-officer of the Emperor, a young man of + twenty-seven, and above all, the means of proving herself superior to + Florentine by the evident superiority of Philippe over Giroudeau. + Florentine and Giroudeau, the one to promote his comrade’s happiness, the + other to get a protector for her friend, pushed Philippe and Mariette into + a “mariage en detrempe,”—a Parisian term which is equivalent to + “morganatic marriage,” as applied to royal personages. Philippe when they + left the house revealed his poverty to Giroudeau, but the old roue + reassured him. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll speak to my nephew Finot,” he said. “You see, Philippe, the reign of + phrases and quill-drivers is upon us; we may as well submit. To-day, + scribblers are paramount. Ink has ousted gunpowder, and talk takes the + place of shot. After all, these little toads of editors are pretty good + fellows, and very clever. Come and see me to-morrow at the newspaper + office; by that time I shall have said a word for you to my nephew. Before + long you’ll have a place on some journal or other. Mariette, who is taking + you at this moment (don’t deceive yourself) because she literally has + nothing, no engagement, no chance of appearing on the stage, and I have + told her that you are going on a newspaper like myself,—Mariette + will try to make you believe she is loving you for yourself; and you will + believe her! Do as I do,—keep her as long as you can. I was so much + in love with Florentine that I begged Finot to write her up and help her + to a debut; but my nephew replied, ‘You say she has talent; well, the day + after her first appearance she will turn her back on you.’ Oh, that’s + Finot all over! You’ll find him a knowing one.” + </p> + <p> + The next day, about four o’clock, Philippe went to the rue de Sentier, + where he found Giroudeau in the entresol,—caged like a wild beast in + a sort of hen-coop with a sliding panel; in which was a little stove, a + little table, two little chairs, and some little logs of wood. This + establishment bore the magic words, SUBSCRIPTION OFFICE, painted on the + door in black letters, and the word “Cashier,” written by hand and + fastened to the grating of the cage. Along the wall that lay opposite to + the cage, was a bench, where, at this moment, a one-armed man was + breakfasting, who was called Coloquinte by Giroudeau, doubtless from the + Egyptian colors of his skin. + </p> + <p> + “A pretty hole!” exclaimed Philippe, looking round the room. “In the name + of thunder! what are you doing here, you who charged with poor Colonel + Chabert at Eylau? You—a gallant officer!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes! broum! broum!—a gallant officer keeping the accounts of + a little newspaper,” said Giroudeau, settling his black silk skull-cap. + “Moreover, I’m the working editor of all that rubbish,” he added, pointing + to the newspaper itself. + </p> + <p> + “And I, who went to Egypt, I’m obliged to stamp it,” said the one-armed + man. + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue, Coloquinte,” said Giroudeau. “You are in presence of a + hero who carried the Emperor’s orders at the battle of Montereau.” + </p> + <p> + Coloquinte saluted. “That’s were I lost my missing arm!” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Coloquinte, look after the den. I’m going up to see my nephew.” + </p> + <p> + The two soldiers mounted to the fourth floor, where, in an attic room at + the end of a passage, they found a young man with a cold light eye, lying + on a dirty sofa. The representative of the press did not stir, though he + offered cigars to his uncle and his uncle’s friend. + </p> + <p> + “My good fellow,” said Giroudeau in a soothing and humble tone, “this is + the gallant cavalry officer of the Imperial Guard of whom I spoke to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh! well?” said Finot, eyeing Philippe, who, like Giroudeau, lost all his + assurance before the diplomatist of the press. + </p> + <p> + “My dear boy,” said Giroudeau, trying to pose as an uncle, “the colonel + has just returned from Texas.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you were taken in by that affair of the Champ d’Asile, were you? + Seems to me you were rather young to turn into a Soldier-laborer.” + </p> + <p> + The bitterness of this jest will only be understood by those who remember + the deluge of engravings, screens, clocks, bronzes, and plaster-casts + produced by the idea of the Soldier-laborer, a splendid image of Napoleon + and his heroes, which afterwards made its appearance on the stage in + vaudevilles. That idea, however, obtained a national subscription; and we + still find, in the depths of the provinces, old wall-papers which bear the + effigy of the Soldier-laborer. If this young man had not been Giroudeau’s + nephew, Philippe would have boxed his ears. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I was taken in by it; I lost my time, and twelve thousand francs to + boot,” answered Philippe, trying to force a grin. + </p> + <p> + “You are still fond of the Emperor?” asked Finot. + </p> + <p> + “He is my god,” answered Philippe Bridau. + </p> + <p> + “You are a Liberal?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall always belong to the Constitutional Opposition. Oh Foy! oh + Manuel! oh Laffitte! what men they are! They’ll rid us of these others,—these + wretches, who came back to France at the heels of the enemy.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Finot coldly, “you ought to make something out of your + misfortunes; for you are the victim of the Liberals, my good fellow. Stay + a Liberal, if you really value your opinions, but threaten the party with + the follies in Texas which you are ready to show up. You never got a + farthing of the national subscription, did you? Well, then you hold a fine + position: demand an account of that subscription. I’ll tell you how you + can do it. A new Opposition journal is just starting, under the auspices + of the deputies of the Left; you shall be the cashier, with a salary of + three thousand francs. A permanent place. All you want is some one to go + security for you in twenty thousand francs; find that, and you shall be + installed within a week. I’ll advise the Liberals to silence you by giving + you the place. Meantime, talk, threaten,—threaten loudly.” + </p> + <p> + Giroudeau let Philippe, who was profuse in his thanks, go down a few steps + before him, and then he turned back to say to his nephew, “Well, you are a + queer fellow! you keep me here on twelve hundred francs—” + </p> + <p> + “That journal won’t live a year,” said Finot. “I’ve got something better + for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thunder!” cried Philippe to Giroudeau. “He’s no fool, that nephew of + yours. I never once thought of making something, as he calls it, out of my + position.” + </p> + <p> + That night at the cafe Lemblin and the cafe Minerve Colonel Philippe + fulminated against the Liberal party, which had raised subscriptions, sent + heroes to Texas, talked hypocritically of Soldier-laborers, and left them + to starve, after taking the money they had put into it, and keeping them + in exile for two years. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to demand an account of the moneys collected by the + subscription for the Champ d’Asile,” he said to one of the frequenters of + the cafe, who repeated it to the journalists of the Left. + </p> + <p> + Philippe did not go back to the rue Mazarin; he went to Mariette and told + her of his forthcoming appointment on a newspaper with ten thousand + subscribers, in which her choregraphic claims should be warmly advanced. + </p> + <p> + Agathe and Madame Descoings waited up for Philippe in fear and trembling, + for the Duc de Berry had just been assassinated. The colonel came home a + few minutes after breakfast; and when his mother showed her uneasiness at + his absence, he grew angry and asked if he were not of age. + </p> + <p> + “In the name of thunder, what’s all this! here have I brought you some + good news, and you both look like tombstones. The Duc de Berry is dead, is + he?—well, so much the better! that’s one the less, at any rate. As + for me, I am to be cashier of a newspaper, with a salary of three thousand + francs, and there you are, out of all your anxieties on my account.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible?” cried Agathe. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; provided you can go security for me in twenty thousand francs; you + need only deposit your shares in the Funds, you will draw the interest all + the same.” + </p> + <p> + The two widows, who for nearly two months had been desperately anxious to + find out what Philippe was about, and how he could be provided for, were + so overjoyed at this prospect that they gave no thought to their other + catastrophes. That evening, the Grecian sages, old Du Bruel, Claparon, + whose health was failing, and the inflexible Desroches were unanimous; + they all advised Madame Bridau to go security for her son. The new + journal, which fortunately was started before the assassination of the Duc + de Berry, just escaped the blow which Monsieur Decazes then launched at + the press. Madame Bridau’s shares in the Funds, representing thirteen + hundred francs’ interest, were transferred as security for Philippe, who + was then appointed cashier. That good son at once promised to pay one + hundred francs every month to the two widows, for his board and lodging, + and was declared by both to be the best of sons. Those who had thought ill + of him now congratulated Agathe. + </p> + <p> + “We were unjust to him,” they said. + </p> + <p> + Poor Joseph, not to be behind his brother in generosity, resolved to pay + for his own support, and succeeded. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + Three months later, the colonel, who ate and drank enough for four men, + finding fault with the food and compelling the poor widows, on the score + of his payments, to spend much money on their table, had not yet paid down + a single penny. His mother and Madame Descoings were unwilling, out of + delicacy, to remind him of his promise. The year went by without one of + those coins which Leon Gozlan so vigorously called “tigers with five + claws” finding its way from Philippe’s pocket to the household purse. It + is true that the colonel quieted his conscience on this score by seldom + dining at home. + </p> + <p> + “Well, he is happy,” said his mother; “he is easy in mind; he has a + place.” + </p> + <p> + Through the influence of a feuilleton, edited by Vernou, a friend of + Bixiou, Finot, and Giroudeau, Mariette made her appearance, not at the + Panorama-Dramatique but at the Porte-Saint-Martin, where she triumphed + beside the famous Begrand. Among the directors of the theatre was a rich + and luxurious general officer, in love with an actress, for whose sake he + had made himself an impresario. In Paris, we frequently meet with men so + fascinated with actresses, singers, or ballet-dancers, that they are + willing to become directors of a theatre out of love. This officer knew + Philippe and Giroudeau. Mariette’s first appearance, heralded already by + Finot’s journal and also by Philippe’s, was promptly arranged by the three + officers; for there seems to be solidarity among the passions in a matter + of folly. + </p> + <p> + The mischievous Bixiou was not long in revealing to his grandmother and + the devoted Agathe that Philippe, the cashier, the hero of heroes, was in + love with Mariette, the celebrated ballet-dancer at the + Porte-Saint-Martin. The news was a thunder-clap to the two widows; + Agathe’s religious principles taught her to think that all women on the + stage were brands in the burning; moreover, she thought, and so did Madame + Descoings, that women of that kind dined off gold, drank pearls, and + wasted fortunes. + </p> + <p> + “Now do you suppose,” said Joseph to his mother, “that my brother is such + a fool as to spend his money on Mariette? Such women only ruin rich men.” + </p> + <p> + “They talk of engaging Mariette at the Opera,” said Bixiou. “Don’t be + worried, Madame Bridau; the diplomatic body often comes to the + Porte-Saint-Martin, and that handsome girl won’t stay long with your son. + I did hear that an ambassador was madly in love with her. By the bye, + another piece of news! Old Claparon is dead, and his son, who has become a + banker, has ordered the cheapest kind of funeral for him. That fellow has + no education; they wouldn’t behave like that in China.” + </p> + <p> + Philippe, prompted by mercenary motives, proposed to Mariette that she + should marry him; but she, knowing herself on the eve of an engagement at + the Grand Opera, refused the offer, either because she guessed the + colonel’s motive, or because she saw how important her independence would + be to her future fortune. For the remainder of this year, Philippe never + came more than twice a month to see his mother. Where was he? Either at + his office, or the theatre, or with Mariette. No light whatever as to his + conduct reached the household of the rue Mazarin. Giroudeau, Finot, + Bixiou, Vernou, Lousteau, saw him leading a life of pleasure. Philippe + shared the gay amusements of Tullia, a leading singer at the Opera, of + Florentine, who took Mariette’s place at the Porte-Saint-Martin, of + Florine and Matifat, Coralie and Camusot. After four o’clock, when he left + his office, until midnight, he amused himself; some party of pleasure had + usually been arranged the night before,—a good dinner, a card-party, + a supper by some one or other of the set. Philippe was in his element. + </p> + <p> + This carnival, which lasted eighteen months, was not altogether without + its troubles. The beautiful Mariette no sooner appeared at the Opera, in + January, 1821, than she captured one of the most distinguished dukes of + the court of Louis XVIII. Philippe tried to make head against the peer, + and by the month of April he was compelled by his passion, notwithstanding + some luck at cards, to dip into the funds of which he was cashier. By May + he had taken eleven hundred francs. In that fatal month Mariette started + for London, to see what could be done with the lords while the temporary + opera house in the Hotel Choiseul, rue Lepelletier, was being prepared. + The luckless Philippe had ended, as often happens, in loving Mariette + notwithstanding her flagrant infidelities; she herself had never thought + him anything but a dull-minded, brutal soldier, the first rung of a ladder + on which she had never intended to remain long. So, foreseeing the time + when Philippe would have spent all his money, she captured other + journalistic support which released her from the necessity of depending on + him; nevertheless, she did feel the peculiar gratitude that class of women + acknowledge towards the first man who smooths their way, as it were, among + the difficulties and horrors of a theatrical career. + </p> + <p> + Forced to let his terrible mistress go to London without him, Philippe + went into winter quarters, as he called it,—that is, he returned to + his attic room in his mother’s <i>appartement</i>. He made some gloomy + reflections as he went to bed that night, and when he got up again. He was + conscious within himself of the inability to live otherwise than as he had + been living the last year. The luxury that surrounded Mariette, the + dinners, the suppers, the evenings in the side-scenes, the animation of + wits and journalists, the sort of racket that went on around him, the + delights that tickled both his senses and his vanity,—such a life, + found only in Paris, and offering daily the charm of some new thing, was + now more than habit,—it had become to Philippe as much a necessity + as his tobacco or his brandy. He saw plainly that he could not live + without these continual enjoyments. The idea of suicide came into his + head; not on account of the deficit which must soon be discovered in his + accounts, but because he could no longer live with Mariette in the + atmosphere of pleasure in which he had disported himself for over a year. + Full of these gloomy thoughts, he entered for the first time his brother’s + painting-room, where he found the painter in a blue blouse, copying a + picture for a dealer. + </p> + <p> + “So that’s how pictures are made,” said Philippe, by way of opening the + conversation. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Joseph, “that is how they are copied.” + </p> + <p> + “How much do they pay you for that?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh! never enough; two hundred and fifty francs. But I study the manner of + the masters and learn a great deal; I found out the secrets of their + method. There’s one of my own pictures,” he added, pointing with the end + of his brush to a sketch with the colors still moist. + </p> + <p> + “How much do you pocket in a year?” + </p> + <p> + “Unfortunately, I am known only to painters. Schinner backs me; and he has + got me some work at the Chateau de Presles, where I am going in October to + do some arabesques, panels, and other decorations, for which the Comte de + Serizy, no doubt, will pay well. With such trifles and with orders from + the dealers, I may manage to earn eighteen hundred to two thousand francs + a year over and above the working expenses. I shall send that picture to + the next exhibition; if it hits the public taste, my fortune is made. My + friends think well of it.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know anything about such things,” said Philippe, in a subdued + voice which caused Joseph to turn and look at him. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” said the artist, seeing that his brother was very + pale. + </p> + <p> + “I should like to know how long it would take you to paint my portrait?” + </p> + <p> + “If I worked steadily, and the weather were clear, I could finish it in + three or four days.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s too long; I have only one day to give you. My poor mother loves me + so much that I wished to leave her my likeness. We will say no more about + it.” + </p> + <p> + “Why! are you going away again?” + </p> + <p> + “I am going never to return,” replied Philippe with an air of forced + gayety. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Philippe, what is the matter? If it is anything serious, I am + a man and not a ninny. I am accustomed to hard struggles, and if + discretion is needed, I have it.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure?” + </p> + <p> + “On my honor.” + </p> + <p> + “You will tell no one, no matter who?” + </p> + <p> + “No one.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I am going to blow my brains out.” + </p> + <p> + “You!—are you going to fight a duel?” + </p> + <p> + “I am going to kill myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “I have taken eleven hundred francs from the funds in my hands; I have got + to send in my accounts to-morrow morning. Half my security is lost; our + poor mother will be reduced to six hundred francs a year. That would be + nothing! I could make a fortune for her later; but I am dishonored! I + cannot live under dishonor—” + </p> + <p> + “You will not be dishonored if it is paid back. To be sure, you will lose + your place, and you will only have the five hundred francs a year from + your cross; but you can live on five hundred francs.” + </p> + <p> + “Farewell!” said Philippe, running rapidly downstairs, and not waiting to + hear another word. + </p> + <p> + Joseph left his studio and went down to breakfast with his mother; but + Philippe’s confession had taken away his appetite. He took Madame + Descoings aside and told her the terrible news. The old woman made a + frightened exclamation, let fall the saucepan of milk she had in her hand, + and flung herself into a chair. Agathe rushed in; from one exclamation to + another the mother gathered the fatal truth. + </p> + <p> + “He! to fail in honor! the son of Bridau to take the money that was + trusted to him!” + </p> + <p> + The widow trembled in every limb; her eyes dilated and then grew fixed; + she sat down and burst into tears. + </p> + <p> + “Where is he?” she cried amid the sobs. “Perhaps he has flung himself into + the Seine.” + </p> + <p> + “You must not give up all hope,” said Madame Descoings, “because a poor + lad has met with a bad woman who has led him to do wrong. Dear me! we see + that every day. Philippe has had such misfortunes! he has had so little + chance to be happy and loved that we ought not to be surprised at his + passion for that creature. All passions lead to excess. My own life is not + without reproach of that kind, and yet I call myself an honest woman. A + single fault is not vice; and after all, it is only those who do nothing + that are never deceived.” + </p> + <p> + Agathe’s despair overcame her so much that Joseph and the Descoings were + obliged to lessen Philippe’s wrong-doings by assuring her that such things + happened in all families. + </p> + <p> + “But he is twenty-eight years old,” cried Agathe, “he is no longer a + child.” + </p> + <p> + Terrible revelation of the inward thought of the poor woman on the conduct + of her son. + </p> + <p> + “Mother, I assure you he thought only of your sufferings and of the wrong + he had done you,” said Joseph. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my God! let him come back to me, let him live, and I will forgive + all,” cried the poor mother, to whose mind a horrible vision of Philippe + dragged dead out of the river presented itself. + </p> + <p> + Gloomy silence reigned for a short time. The day went by with cruel + alternations of hope and fear; all three ran to the window at the least + sound, and gave way to every sort of conjecture. While the family were + thus grieving, Philippe was quietly getting matters in order at his + office. He had the audacity to give in his accounts with a statement that, + fearing some accident, he had retained eleven hundred francs at his own + house for safe keeping. The scoundrel left the office at five o’clock, + taking five hundred francs more from the desk, and coolly went to a + gambling-house, which he had not entered since his connection with the + paper, for he knew very well that a cashier must not be seen to frequent + such a place. The fellow was not wanting in acumen. His past conduct + proved that he derived more from his grandfather Rouget than from his + virtuous sire, Bridau. Perhaps he might have made a good general; but in + private life, he was one of those utter scoundrels who shelter their + schemes and their evil actions behind a screen of strict legality, and the + privacy of the family roof. + </p> + <p> + At this conjuncture Philippe maintained his coolness. He won at first, and + gained as much as six thousand francs; but he let himself be dazzled by + the idea of getting out of his difficulties at one stroke. He left the + trente-et-quarante, hearing that the black had come up sixteen times at + the roulette table, and was about to put five thousand francs on the red, + when the black came up for the seventeenth time. The colonel then put a + thousand francs on the black and won. In spite of this remarkable piece of + luck, his head grew weary; he felt it, though he continued to play. But + that divining sense which leads a gambler, and which comes in flashes, was + already failing him. Intermittent perceptions, so fatal to all gamblers, + set in. Lucidity of mind, like the rays of the sun, can have no effect + except by the continuity of a direct line; it can divine only on condition + of not breaking that line; the curvettings of chance bemuddle it. Philippe + lost all. After such a strain, the careless mind as well as the bravest + weakens. When Philippe went home that night he was not thinking of + suicide, for he had never really meant to kill himself; he no longer + thought of his lost place, nor of the sacrificed security, nor of his + mother, nor of Mariette, the cause of his ruin; he walked along + mechanically. When he got home, his mother in tears, Madame Descoings, and + Joseph, all fell on his neck and kissed him and brought him joyfully to a + seat by the fire. + </p> + <p> + “Bless me!” thought he, “the threat has worked.” + </p> + <p> + The brute at once assumed an air suitable to the occasion; all the more + easily, because his ill-luck at cards had deeply depressed him. Seeing her + atrocious Benjamin so pale and woe-begone, the poor mother knelt beside + him, kissed his hands, pressed them to her heart, and gazed at him for a + long time with eyes swimming in tears. + </p> + <p> + “Philippe,” she said, in a choking voice, “promise not to kill yourself, + and all shall be forgotten.” + </p> + <p> + Philippe looked at his sorrowing brother and at Madame Descoings, whose + eyes were full of tears, and thought to himself, “They are good + creatures.” Then he took his mother in his arms, raised her and put her on + his knee, pressed her to his heart and whispered as he kissed her, “For + the second time, you give me life.” + </p> + <p> + The Descoings managed to serve an excellent dinner, and to add two bottles + of old wine with a little “liqueur des iles,” a treasure left over from + her former business. + </p> + <p> + “Agathe,” she said at dessert, “we must let him smoke his cigars,” and she + offered some to Philippe. + </p> + <p> + These two poor creatures fancied that if they let the fellow take his + ease, he would like his home and stay in it; both, therefore, tried to + endure his tobacco-smoke, though each loathed it. That sacrifice was not + so much as noticed by Philippe. + </p> + <p> + On the morrow, Agathe looked ten years older. Her terrors calmed, + reflection came back to her, and the poor woman had not closed an eye + throughout that horrible night. She was now reduced to six hundred francs + a year. Madame Descoings, like all fat women fond of good eating, was + growing heavy; her step on the staircase sounded like the chopping of + logs; she might die at any moment; with her life, four thousand francs + would disappear. What folly to rely on that resource! What should she do? + What would become of them? With her mind made up to become a sick-nurse + rather than be supported by her children, Agathe did not think of herself. + But Philippe? what would he do if reduced to live on the five hundred + francs of an officer of the Legion of honor? During the past eleven years, + Madame Descoings, by giving up three thousand francs a year, had paid her + debt twice over, but she still continued to sacrifice her grandson’s + interests to those of the Bridau family. Though all Agathe’s honorable and + upright feelings were shocked by this terrible disaster, she said to + herself: “Poor boy! is it his fault? He is faithful to his oath. I have + done wrong not to marry him. If I had found him a wife, he would not have + got entangled with this danseuse. He has such a vigorous constitution—” + </p> + <p> + Madame Descoings had likewise reflected during the night as to the best + way of saving the honor of the family. At daybreak, she got out of bed and + went to her friend’s room. + </p> + <p> + “Neither you nor Philippe should manage this delicate matter,” she urged. + “Our two old friends Du Bruel and Claparon are dead, but we still have + Desroches, who is very sagacious. I’ll go and see him this morning. He can + tell the newspaper people that Philippe trusted a friend and has been made + a victim; that his weakness in such respects makes him unfit to be a + cashier; what has now happened may happen again, and that Philippe prefers + to resign. That will prevent his being turned off.” + </p> + <p> + Agathe, seeing that this business lie would save the honor of her son, at + any rate in the eyes of strangers, kissed Madame Descoings, who went out + early to make an end of the dreadful affair. + </p> + <p> + Philippe, meanwhile, had slept the sleep of the just. “She is sly, that + old woman,” he remarked, when his mother explained to him why breakfast + was late. + </p> + <p> + Old Desroches, the last remaining friend of these two poor women, who, in + spite of his harsh nature, never forgot that Bridau had obtained for him + his place, fulfilled like an accomplished diplomat the delicate mission + Madame Descoings had confided to him. He came to dine that evening with + the family, and notified Agathe that she must go the next day to the + Treasury, rue Vivienne, sign the transfer of the funds involved, and + obtain a coupon for the six hundred francs a year which still remained to + her. The old clerk did not leave the afflicted household that night + without obliging Philippe to sign a petition to the minister of war, + asking for his reinstatement in the active army. Desroches promised the + two women to follow up the petition at the war office, and to profit by + the triumph of a certain duke over Philippe in the matter of the danseuse, + and so obtain that nobleman’s influence. + </p> + <p> + “Philippe will be lieutenant-colonel in the Duc de Maufrigneuse’s regiment + within three months,” he declared, “and you will be rid of him.” + </p> + <p> + Desroches went away, smothered with blessings from the two poor widows and + Joseph. As to the newspaper, it ceased to exist at the end of two months, + just as Finot had predicted. Philippe’s crime had, therefore, so far as + the world knew, no consequences. But Agathe’s motherhood had received a + deadly wound. Her belief in her son once shaken, she lived in perpetual + fear, mingled with some satisfactions, as she saw her worst apprehensions + unrealized. + </p> + <p> + When men like Philippe, who are endowed with physical courage, and yet are + cowardly and ignoble in their moral being, see matters and things resuming + their accustomed course about them after some catastrophe in which their + honor and decency is well-nigh lost, such family kindness, or any show of + friendliness towards them is a premium of encouragement. They count on + impunity; their minds distorted, their passions gratified, only prompt + them to study how it happened that they succeeded in getting round all + social laws; the result is they become alarmingly adroit. + </p> + <p> + A fortnight later, Philippe, once more a man of leisure, lazy and bored, + renewed his fatal cafe life,—his drams, his long games of billiards + embellished with punch, his nightly resort to the gambling-table, where he + risked some trifling stake and won enough to pay for his dissipations. + Apparently very economical, the better to deceive his mother and Madame + Descoings, he wore a hat that was greasy, with the nap rubbed off at the + edges, patched boots, a shabby overcoat, on which the red ribbon scarcely + showed so discolored and dirty was it by long service at the buttonhole + and by the spatterings of coffee and liquors. His buckskin gloves, of a + greenish tinge, lasted him a long while; and he only gave up his satin + neckcloth when it was ragged enough to look like wadding. Mariette was the + sole object of the fellow’s love, and her treachery had greatly hardened + his heart. When he happened to win more than usual, or if he supped with + his old comrade, Giroudeau, he followed some Venus of the slums, with + brutal contempt for the whole sex. Otherwise regular in his habits, he + breakfasted and dined at home and came in every night about one o’clock. + Three months of this horrible life restored Agathe to some degree of + confidence. + </p> + <p> + As for Joseph, who was working at the splendid picture to which he + afterwards owed his reputation, he lived in his atelier. On the prediction + of her grandson Bixiou, Madame Descoings believed in Joseph’s future + glory, and she showed him every sort of motherly kindness; she took his + breakfast to him, she did his errands, she blacked his boots. The painter + was never seen till dinner-time, and his evenings were spent at the + Cenacle among his friends. He read a great deal, and gave himself that + deep and serious education which only comes through the mind itself, and + which all men of talent strive after between the ages of twenty and + thirty. Agathe, seeing very little of Joseph, and feeling no uneasiness + about him, lived only for Philippe, who gave her the alternations of fears + excited and terrors allayed, which seem the life, as it were, of + sentiment, and to be as necessary to maternity as to love. Desroches, who + came once a week to see the widow of his patron and friend, gave her + hopes. The Duc de Maufrigneuse had asked to have Philippe in his regiment; + the minister of war had ordered an inquiry; and as the name of Bridau did + not appear on any police list, nor an any record at the Palais de Justice, + Philippe would be reinstated in the army early in the coming year. + </p> + <p> + To arrive at this result, Desroches set all the powers that he could + influence in motion. At the prefecture of police he learned that Philippe + spent his evenings in the gambling-house; and he thought it best to tell + this fact privately to Madame Descoings, exhorting her keep an eye on the + lieutenant-colonel, for one outbreak would imperil all; as it was, the + minister of war was not likely to inquire whether Philippe gambled. Once + restored to his rank under the flag of his country, he would perhaps + abandon a vice only taken up from idleness. Agathe, who no longer received + her friends in the evening, sat in the chimney-corner reading her prayers, + while Madame Descoings consulted the cards, interpreted her dreams, and + applied the rules of the “cabala” to her lottery ventures. This jovial + fanatic never missed a single drawing; she still pursued her trey,—which + never turned up. It was nearly twenty-one years old, just approaching its + majority; on this ridiculous idea the old woman now pinned her faith. One + of its three numbers had stayed at the bottom of all the wheels ever since + the institution of the lottery. Accordingly, Madame Descoings laid heavy + stakes on that particular number, as well as on all the combinations of + the three numbers. The last mattress remaining to her bed was the place + where she stored her savings; she unsewed the ticking, put in from time to + time the bit of gold saved from her needs, wrapped carefully in wool, and + then sewed the mattress up again. She intended, at the last drawing, to + risk all her savings on the different combinations of her treasured trey. + </p> + <p> + This passion, so universally condemned, has never been fairly studied. No + one has understood this opium of poverty. The lottery, all-powerful fairy + of the poor, bestowed the gift of magic hopes. The turn of the wheel which + opens to the gambler a vista of gold and happiness, lasts no longer than a + flash of lightning, but the lottery gave five days’ existence to that + magnificent flash. What social power can to-day, for the sum of five sous, + give us five days’ happiness and launch us ideally into all the joys of + civilization? Tobacco, a craving far more immoral than play, destroys the + body, attacks the mind, and stupefies a nation; while the lottery did + nothing of the kind. This passion, moreover, was forced to keep within + limits by the long periods that occurred between the drawings, and by the + choice of wheels which each investor individually clung to. Madame + Descoings never staked on any but the “wheel of Paris.” Full of confidence + that the trey cherished for twenty-one years was about to triumph, she now + imposed upon herself enormous privations, that she might stake a large + amount of savings upon the last drawing of the year. When she dreamed her + cabalistic visions (for all dreams did not correspond with the numbers of + the lottery), she went and told them to Joseph, who was the sole being who + would listen, and not only not scold her, but give her the kindly words + with which an artist knows how to soothe the follies of the mind. All + great talents respect and understand a real passion; they explain it to + themselves by finding the roots of it in their own hearts or minds. + Joseph’s ideas was, that his brother loved tobacco and liquors, Maman + Descoings loved her trey, his mother loved God, Desroches the younger + loved lawsuits, Desroches the elder loved angling,—in short, all the + world, he said, loved something. He himself loved the “beau ideal” in all + things; he loved the poetry of Lord Byron, the painting of Gericault, the + music of Rossini, the novels of Walter Scott. “Every one to his taste, + maman,” he would say; “but your trey does hang fire terribly.” + </p> + <p> + “It will turn up, and you will be rich, and my little Bixiou as well.” + </p> + <p> + “Give it all to your grandson,” cried Joseph; “at any rate, do what you + like best with it.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey! when it turns up I shall have enough for everybody. In the first + place, you shall have a fine atelier; you sha’n’t deprive yourself of + going to the opera so as to pay for your models and your colors. Do you + know, my dear boy, you make me play a pretty shabby part in that picture + of yours?” + </p> + <p> + By way of economy, Joseph had made the Descoings pose for his magnificent + painting of a young courtesan taken by an old woman to a Doge of Venice. + This picture, one of the masterpieces of modern painting, was mistaken by + Gros himself for a Titian, and it paved the way for the recognition which + the younger artists gave to Joseph’s talent in the Salon of 1823. + </p> + <p> + “Those who know you know very well what you are,” he answered gayly. “Why + need you trouble yourself about those who don’t know you?” + </p> + <p> + For the last ten years Madame Descoings had taken on the ripe tints of a + russet apple at Easter. Wrinkles had formed in her superabundant flesh, + now grown pallid and flabby. Her eyes, full of life, were bright with + thoughts that were still young and vivacious, and might be considered + grasping; for there is always something of that spirit in a gambler. Her + fat face bore traces of dissimulation and of the mental reservations + hidden in the depths of her heart. Her vice necessitated secrecy. There + were also indications of gluttony in the motion of her lips. And thus, + although she was, as we have seen, an excellent and upright woman, the eye + might be misled by her appearance. She was an admirable model for the old + woman Joseph wished to paint. Coralie, a young actress of exquisite beauty + who died in the flower of her youth, the mistress of Lucien de Rubempre, + one of Joseph’s friends, had given him the idea of the picture. This noble + painting has been called a plagiarism of other pictures, while in fact it + was a splendid arrangement of three portraits. Michel Chrestien, one of + his companions at the Cenacle, lent his republican head for the senator, + to which Joseph added a few mature tints, just as he exaggerated the + expression of Madame Descoings’s features. This fine picture, which was + destined to make a great noise and bring the artist much hatred, jealousy, + and admiration, was just sketched out; but, compelled as he was to work + for a living, he laid it aside to make copies of the old masters for the + dealers; thus he penetrated the secrets of their processes, and his brush + is therefore one of the best trained of the modern school. The shrewd + sense of an artist led him to conceal the profits he was beginning to lay + by from his mother and Madame Descoings, aware that each had her road to + ruin,—the one in Philippe, the other in the lottery. This astuteness + is seldom wanting among painters; busy for days together in the solitude + of their studios, engaged in work which, up to a certain point, leaves the + mind free, they are in some respects like women,—their thoughts turn + about the little events of life, and they contrive to get at their hidden + meaning. + </p> + <p> + Joseph had bought one of those magnificent chests or coffers of a past + age, then ignored by fashion, with which he decorated a corner of his + studio, where the light danced upon the bas-reliefs and gave full lustre + to a masterpiece of the sixteenth century artisans. He saw the necessity + for a hiding-place, and in this coffer he had begun to accumulate a little + store of money. With an artist’s carelessness, he was in the habit of + putting the sum he allowed for his monthly expenses in a skull, which + stood on one of the compartments of the coffer. Since his brother had + returned to live at home, he found a constant discrepancy between the + amount he spent and the sum in this receptacle. The hundred francs a month + disappeared with incredible celerity. Finding nothing one day, when he had + only spent forty or fifty francs, he remarked for the first time: “My + money must have got wings.” The next month he paid more attention to his + accounts; but add as he might, like Robert Macaire, sixteen and five are + twenty-three, he could make nothing of them. When, for the third time, he + found a still more important discrepancy, he communicated the painful fact + to Madame Descoings, who loved him, he knew, with that maternal, tender, + confiding, credulous, enthusiastic love that he had never had from his own + mother, good as she was,—a love as necessary to the early life of an + artist as the care of the hen is to her unfledged chickens. To her alone + could he confide his horrible suspicions. He was as sure of his friends as + he was of himself; and the Descoings, he knew, would take nothing to put + in her lottery. At the idea which then suggested itself the poor woman + wrung her hands. Philippe alone could have committed this domestic theft. + </p> + <p> + “Why didn’t he ask me, if he wanted it?” cried Joseph, taking a dab of + color on his palette and stirring it into the other colors without seeing + what he did. “Is it likely I should refuse him?” + </p> + <p> + “It is robbing a child!” cried the Descoings, her face expressing the + deepest disgust. + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied Joseph, “he is my brother; my purse is his: but he ought to + have asked me.” + </p> + <p> + “Put in a special sum, in silver, this morning, and don’t take anything + out,” said Madame Descoings. “I shall know who goes into the studio; and + if he is the only one, you will be certain it is he.” + </p> + <p> + The next day Joseph had proof of his brother’s forced loans upon him. + Philippe came to the studio when his brother was out and took the little + sum he wanted. The artist trembled for his savings. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll catch him at it, the scamp!” he said, laughing, to Madame Descoings. + </p> + <p> + “And you’ll do right: we ought to break him of it. I, too, I have missed + little sums out of my purse. Poor boy! he wants tobacco; he’s accustomed + to it.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor boy! poor boy!” cried the artist. “I’m rather of Fulgence and + Bixiou’s opinion: Philippe is a dead-weight on us. He runs his head into + riots and has to be shipped to America, and that costs the mother twelve + thousand francs; he can’t find anything to do in the forests of the New + World, and so he comes back again, and that costs twelve thousand more. + Under pretence of having carried two words of Napoleon to a general, he + thinks himself a great soldier and makes faces at the Bourbons; meantime, + what does he do? amuse himself, travel about, see foreign countries! As + for me, I’m not duped by his misfortunes; he doesn’t look like a man who + fails to get the best of things! Somebody finds him a good place, and + there he is, leading the life of a Sardanapalus with a ballet-girl, and + guzzling the funds of his journal; that costs the mother another twelve + thousand francs! I don’t care two straws for myself, but Philippe will + bring that poor woman to beggary. He thinks I’m of no account because I + was never in the dragoons of the Guard; but perhaps I shall be the one to + support that poor dear mother in her old age, while he, if he goes on as + he does, will end I don’t know how. Bixiou often says to me, ‘He is a + downright rogue, that brother of yours.’ Your grandson is right. Philippe + will be up to some mischief that will compromise the honor of the family, + and then we shall have to scrape up another ten or twelve thousand francs! + He gambles every night; when he comes home, drunk as a templar, he drops + on the staircase the pricked cards on which he marks the turns of the red + and black. Old Desroches is trying to get him back into the army, and, on + my word on honor, I believe he would hate to serve again. Would you ever + have believed that a boy with such heavenly blue eyes and the look of + Bayard could turn out such a scoundrel?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + In spite of the coolness and discretion with which Philippe played his + trifling game every night, it happened every now and then that he was what + gamblers call “cleaned out.” Driven by the irresistible necessity of + having his evening stake of ten francs, he plundered the household, and + laid hands on his brother’s money and on all that Madame Descoings or + Agathe left about. Already the poor mother had had a dreadful vision in + her first sleep: Philippe entered the room and took from the pockets of + her gown all the money he could find. Agathe pretended to sleep, but she + passed the rest of the night in tears. She saw the truth only too clearly. + “One wrong act is not a vice,” Madame Descoings had declared; but after so + many repetitions, vice was unmistakable. Agathe could doubt no longer; her + best-beloved son had neither delicacy nor honor. + </p> + <p> + On the morrow of that frightful vision, before Philippe left the house + after breakfast, she drew him into her chamber and begged him, in a tone + of entreaty, to ask her for what money he needed. After that, the + applications were so numerous that in two weeks Agathe was drained of all + her savings. She was literally without a penny, and began to think of + finding work. The means of earning money had been discussed in the + evenings between herself and Madame Descoings, and she had already taken + patterns of worsted work to fill in, from a shop called the “Pere de + Famille,”—an employment which pays about twenty sous a day. + Notwithstanding Agathe’s silence on the subject, Madame Descoings had + guessed the motive of this desire to earn money by women’s-work. The + change in her appearance was eloquent: her fresh face had withered, the + skin clung to the temples and the cheek-bones, and the forehead showed + deep lines; her eyes lost their clearness; an inward fire was evidently + consuming her; she wept the greater part of the night. A chief cause of + these outward ravages was the necessity of hiding her anguish, her + sufferings, her apprehensions. She never went to sleep until Philippe came + in; she listened for his step, she had learned the inflections of his + voice, the variations of his walk, the very language of his cane as it + touched the pavement. Nothing escaped her. She knew the degree of + drunkenness he had reached, she trembled as she heard him stumble on the + stairs; one night she picked up some pieces of gold at the spot where he + had fallen. When he had drunk and won, his voice was gruff and his cane + dragged; but when he had lost, his step had something sharp, short and + angry about it; he hummed in a clear voice, and carried his cane in the + air as if presenting arms. At breakfast, if he had won, his behavior was + gay and even affectionate; he joked roughly, but still he joked, with + Madame Descoings, with Joseph, and with his mother; gloomy, on the + contrary, when he had lost, his brusque, rough speech, his hard glance, + and his depression, frightened them. A life of debauch and the abuse of + liquors debased, day by day, a countenance that was once so handsome. The + veins of the face were swollen with blood, the features became coarse, the + eyes lost their lashes and grew hard and dry. No longer careful of his + person, Philippe exhaled the miasmas of a tavern and the smell of muddy + boots, which, to an observer, stamped him with debauchery. + </p> + <p> + “You ought,” said Madame Descoings to Philippe during the last days of + December, “you ought to get yourself new-clothed from head to foot.” + </p> + <p> + “And who is to pay for it?” he answered sharply. “My poor mother hasn’t a + sou; and I have five hundred francs a year. It would take my whole year’s + pension to pay for the clothes; besides I have mortgaged it for three + years—” + </p> + <p> + “What for?” asked Joseph. + </p> + <p> + “A debt of honor. Giroudeau borrowed a thousand francs from Florentine to + lend me. I am not gorgeous, that’s a fact; but when one thinks that + Napoleon is at Saint Helena, and has sold his plate for the means of + living, his faithful soldiers can manage to walk on their bare feet,” he + said, showing his boots without heels, as he marched away. + </p> + <p> + “He is not bad,” said Agathe, “he has good feelings.” + </p> + <p> + “You can love the Emperor and yet dress yourself properly,” said Joseph. + “If he would take any care of himself and his clothes, he wouldn’t look so + like a vagabond.” + </p> + <p> + “Joseph! you ought to have some indulgence for your brother,” cried + Agathe. “You do the things you like, while he is certainly not in his + right place.” + </p> + <p> + “What did he leave it for?” demanded Joseph. “What can it matter to him + whether Louis the Eighteenth’s bugs or Napoleon’s cuckoos are on the flag, + if it is the flag of his country? France is France! For my part, I’d paint + for the devil. A soldier ought to fight, if he is a soldier, for the love + of his art. If he had stayed quietly in the army, he would have been a + general by this time.” + </p> + <p> + “You are unjust to him,” said Agathe, “your father, who adored the + Emperor, would have approved of his conduct. However, he has consented to + re-enter the army. God knows the grief it has caused your brother to do a + thing he considers treachery.” + </p> + <p> + Joseph rose to return to his studio, but his mother took his hand and + said:— + </p> + <p> + “Be good to your brother; he is so unfortunate.” + </p> + <p> + When the artist got back to his painting-room, followed by Madame + Descoings, who begged him to humor his mother’s feelings, and pointed out + to him how changed she was, and what inward suffering the change revealed, + they found Philippe there, to their great amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Joseph, my boy,” he said, in an off-hand way, “I want some money. + Confound it! I owe thirty francs for cigars at my tobacconist’s, and I + dare not pass the cursed shop till I’ve paid it. I’ve promised to pay it a + dozen times.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I like your present way best,” said Joseph; “take what you want out + of the skull.” + </p> + <p> + “I took all there was last night, after dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “There was forty-five francs.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that’s what I made it,” replied Philippe. “I took them; is there any + objection?” + </p> + <p> + “No, my friend, no,” said Joseph. “If you were rich, I should do the same + by you; only, before taking what I wanted, I should ask you if it were + convenient.” + </p> + <p> + “It is very humiliating to ask,” remarked Philippe; “I would rather see + you taking as I do, without a word; it shows more confidence. In the army, + if a comrade dies, and has a good pair of boots, and you have a bad pair, + you change, that’s all.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but you don’t take them while he is living.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what meanness!” said Philippe, shrugging his shoulders. “Well, so you + haven’t got any money?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Joseph, who was determined not to show his hiding-place. + </p> + <p> + “In a few days we shall be rich,” said Madame Descoings. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you; you think your trey is going to turn up on the 25th at the + Paris drawing. You must have put in a fine stake if you think you can make + us all rich.” + </p> + <p> + “A paid-up trey of two hundred francs will give three millions, without + counting the couplets and the singles.” + </p> + <p> + “At fifteen thousand times the stake—yes, you are right; it is just + two hundred you must pay up!” cried Philippe. + </p> + <p> + Madame Descoings bit her lips; she knew she had spoken imprudently. In + fact, Philippe was asking himself as he went downstairs:— + </p> + <p> + “That old witch! where does she keep her money? It is as good as lost; I + can make a better use of it. With four pools at fifty francs each, I could + win two hundred thousand francs, and that’s much surer than the turning up + of a trey.” + </p> + <p> + He tried to think where the old woman was likely to have hid the money. On + the days preceding festivals, Agathe went to church and stayed there a + long time; no doubt she confessed and prepared for the communion. It was + now the day before Christmas; Madame Descoings would certainly go out to + buy some dainties for the “reveillon,” the midnight meal; and she might + also take occasion to pay up her stake. The lottery was drawn every five + days in different localities, at Bordeaux, Lyons, Lille, Strasburg, and + Paris. The Paris lottery was drawn on the twenty-fifth of each month, and + the lists closed on the twenty-fourth, at midnight. Philippe studied all + these points and set himself to watch. He came home at midday; the + Descoings had gone out, and had taken the key of the <i>appartement</i>. + But that was no difficulty. Philippe pretended to have forgotten + something, and asked the concierge to go herself and get a locksmith, who + lived close by, and who came at once and opened the door. The villain’s + first thought was the bed; he uncovered it, passed his hands over the + mattress before he examined the bedstead, and at the lower end felt the + pieces wrapped up in paper. He at once ripped the ticking, picked out + twenty napoleons, and then, without taking time to sew up the mattress, + re-made the bed neatly enough, so that Madame Descoings could suspect + nothing. + </p> + <p> + The gambler stole off with a light foot, resolving to play at three + different times, three hours apart, and each time for only ten minutes. + Thorough-going players, ever since 1786, the time at which public + gaming-houses were established,—the true players whom the government + dreaded, and who ate up, to use a gambling term, the money of the bank,—never + played in any other way. But before attaining this measure of experience + they lost fortunes. The whole science of gambling-houses and their gains + rests upon three things: the impassibility of the bank; the even results + called “drawn games,” when half the money goes to the bank; and the + notorious bad faith authorized by the government, in refusing to hold or + pay the player’s stakes except optionally. In a word, the gambling-house, + which refuses the game of a rich and cool player, devours the fortune of + the foolish and obstinate one, who is carried away by the rapid movement + of the machinery of the game. The croupiers at “trente et quarante” move + nearly as fast as the ball. + </p> + <p> + Philippe had ended by acquiring the sang-froid of a commanding general, + which enables him to keep his eye clear and his mind prompt in the midst + of tumult. He had reached that statesmanship of gambling which in Paris, + let us say in passing, is the livelihood of thousands who are strong + enough to look every night into an abyss without getting a vertigo. With + his four hundred francs, Philippe resolved to make his fortune that day. + He put aside, in his boots, two hundred francs, and kept the other two + hundred in his pocket. At three o’clock he went to the gambling-house + (which is now turned into the theatre of the Palais-Royal), where the bank + accepted the largest sums. He came out half an hour later with seven + thousand francs in his pocket. Then he went to see Florentine, paid the + five hundred francs which he owed to her, and proposed a supper at the + Rocher de Cancale after the theatre. Returning to his game, along the rue + de Sentier, he stopped at Giroudeau’s newspaper-office to notify him of + the gala. By six o’clock Philippe had won twenty-five thousand francs, and + stopped playing at the end of ten minutes as he had promised himself to + do. That night, by ten o’clock, he had won seventy-five thousand francs. + After the supper, which was magnificent, Philippe, by that time drunk and + confident, went back to his play at midnight. In defiance of the rule he + had imposed upon himself, he played for an hour and doubled his fortune. + The bankers, from whom, by his system of playing, he had extracted one + hundred and fifty thousand francs, looked at him with curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “Will he go away now, or will he stay?” they said to each other by a + glance. “If he stays he is lost.” + </p> + <p> + Philippe thought he had struck a vein of luck, and stayed. Towards three + in the morning, the hundred and fifty thousand francs had gone back to the + bank. The colonel, who had imbibed a considerable quantity of grog while + playing, left the place in a drunken state, which the cold of the outer + air only increased. A waiter from the gambling-house followed him, picked + him up, and took him to one of those horrible houses at the door of which, + on a hanging lamp, are the words: “Lodgings for the night.” The waiter + paid for the ruined gambler, who was put to bed, where he remained till + Christmas night. The managers of gambling-houses have some consideration + for their customers, especially for high players. Philippe awoke about + seven o’clock in the evening, his mouth parched, his face swollen, and he + himself in the grip of a nervous fever. The strength of his constitution + enabled him to get home on foot, where meanwhile he had, without willing + it, brought mourning, desolation, poverty, and death. + </p> + <p> + The evening before, when dinner was ready, Madame Descoings and Agathe + expected Philippe. They waited dinner till seven o’clock. Agathe always + went to bed at ten; but as, on this occasion, she wished to be present at + the midnight mass, she went to lie down as soon as dinner was over. Madame + Descoings and Joseph remained alone by the fire in the little salon, which + served for all, and the old woman asked the painter to add up the amount + of her great stake, her monstrous stake, on the famous trey, which she was + to pay that evening at the Lottery office. She wished to put in for the + doubles and singles as well, so as to seize all chances. After feasting on + the poetry of her hopes, and pouring the two horns of plenty at the feet + of her adopted son, and relating to him her dreams which demonstrated the + certainty of success, she felt no other uneasiness than the difficulty of + bearing such joy, and waiting from mid-night until ten o’clock of the + morrow, when the winning numbers were declared. Joseph, who saw nothing of + the four hundred francs necessary to pay up the stakes, asked about them. + The old woman smiled, and led him into the former salon, which was now her + bed-chamber. + </p> + <p> + “You shall see,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Madame Descoings hastily unmade the bed, and searched for her scissors to + rip the mattress; she put on her spectacles, looked at the ticking, saw + the hole, and let fall the mattress. Hearing a sigh from the depths of the + old woman’s breast, as though she were strangled by a rush of blood to the + heart, Joseph instinctively held out his arms to catch the poor creature, + and placed her fainting in a chair, calling to his mother to come to them. + Agathe rose, slipped on her dressing-gown, and ran in. By the light of a + candle, she applied the ordinary remedies,—eau-de-cologne to the + temples, cold water to the forehead, a burnt feather under the nose,—and + presently her aunt revived. + </p> + <p> + “They were there is morning; HE has taken them, the monster!” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Taken what?” asked Joseph. + </p> + <p> + “I had twenty louis in my mattress; my savings for two years; no one but + Philippe could have taken them.” + </p> + <p> + “But when?” cried the poor mother, overwhelmed, “he has not been in since + breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I might be mistaken,” said the old woman. “But this morning in + Joseph’s studio, when I spoke before Philippe of my stakes, I had a + presentiment. I did wrong not to go down and take my little all and pay + for my stakes at once. I meant to, and I don’t know what prevented me. Oh, + yes!—my God! I went out to buy him some cigars.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Joseph, “you left the door locked. Besides, it is so infamous. + I can’t believe it. Philippe couldn’t have watched you, cut open the + mattress, done it deliberately,—no, no!” + </p> + <p> + “I felt them this morning, when I made my bed after breakfast,” repeated + Madame Descoings. + </p> + <p> + Agathe, horrified, went down stairs and asked if Philippe had come in + during the day. The concierge related the tale of his return and the + locksmith. The mother, heart-stricken, went back a changed woman. White as + the linen of her chemise, she walked as we might fancy a spectre walks, + slowly, noiselessly, moved by some superhuman power, and yet mechanically. + She held a candle in her hand, whose light fell full upon her face and + showed her eyes, fixed with horror. Unconsciously, her hands by a + desperate movement had dishevelled the hair about her brow; and this made + her so beautiful with anguish that Joseph stood rooted in awe at the + apparition of that remorse, the vision of that statue of terror and + despair. + </p> + <p> + “My aunt,” she said, “take my silver forks and spoons. I have enough to + make up the sum; I took your money for Philippe’s sake; I thought I could + put it back before you missed it. Oh! I have suffered much.” + </p> + <p> + She sat down. Her dry, fixed eyes wandered a little. + </p> + <p> + “It was he who did it,” whispered the old woman to Joseph. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” cried Agathe; “take my silver plate, sell it; it is useless to + me; we can eat with yours.” + </p> + <p> + She went to her room, took the box which contained the plate, felt its + light weight, opened it, and saw a pawnbroker’s ticket. The poor mother + uttered a dreadful cry. Joseph and the Descoings ran to her, saw the empty + box, and her noble falsehood was of no avail. All three were silent, and + avoided looking at each other; but the next moment, by an almost frantic + gesture, Agathe laid her finger on her lips as if to entreat a secrecy no + one desired to break. They returned to the salon, and sat beside the fire. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! my children,” cried Madame Descoings, “I am stabbed to the heart: my + trey will turn up, I am certain of it. I am not thinking of myself, but of + you two. Philippe is a monster,” she continued, addressing her niece; “he + does not love you after all that you have done for him. If you do not + protect yourself against him he will bring you to beggary. Promise me to + sell out your Funds and buy a life-annuity. Joseph has a good profession + and he can live. If you will do this, dear Agathe, you will never be an + expense to Joseph. Monsieur Desroches has just started his son as a + notary; he would take your twelve thousand francs and pay you an annuity.” + </p> + <p> + Joseph seized his mother’s candlestick, rushed up to his studio, and came + down with three hundred francs. + </p> + <p> + “Here, Madame Descoings!” he cried, giving her his little store, “it is no + business of ours what you do with your money; we owe you what you have + lost, and here it is, almost in full.” + </p> + <p> + “Take your poor little all?—the fruit of those privations that have + made me so unhappy! are you mad, Joseph?” cried the old woman, visibly + torn between her dogged faith in the coming trey, and the sacrilege of + accepting such a sacrifice. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! take it if you like,” said Agathe, who was moved to tears by this + action of her true son. + </p> + <p> + Madame Descoings took Joseph by the head, and kissed him on the forehead:— + </p> + <p> + “My child,” she said, “don’t tempt me. I might only lose it. The lottery, + you see, is all folly.” + </p> + <p> + No more heroic words were ever uttered in the hidden dramas of domestic + life. It was, indeed, affection triumphant over inveterate vice. At this + instant, the clocks struck midnight. + </p> + <p> + “It is too late now,” said Madame Descoings. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” cried Joseph, “here are your cabalistic numbers.” + </p> + <p> + The artist sprang at the paper, and rushed headlong down the staircase to + pay the stakes. When he was no longer present, Agathe and Madame Descoings + burst into tears. + </p> + <p> + “He has gone, the dear love,” cried the old gambler; “but it shall all be + his; he pays his own money.” + </p> + <p> + Unhappily, Joseph did not know the way to any of the lottery-offices, + which in those days were as well known to most people as the cigarshops to + a smoker in ours. The painter ran along, reading the street names upon the + lamps. When he asked the passers-by to show him a lottery-office, he was + told they were all closed, except the one under the portico of the + Palais-Royal which was sometimes kept open a little later. He flew to the + Palais-Royal: the office was shut. + </p> + <p> + “Two minutes earlier, and you might have paid your stake,” said one of the + vendors of tickets, whose beat was under the portico, where he vociferated + this singular cry: “Twelve hundred francs for forty sous,” and offered + tickets all paid up. + </p> + <p> + By the glimmer of the street lamp and the lights of the cafe de la + Rotonde, Joseph examined these tickets to see if, by chance, any of them + bore the Descoings’s numbers. He found none, and returned home grieved at + having done his best in vain for the old woman, to whom he related his + ill-luck. Agathe and her aunt went together to the midnight mass at + Saint-Germain-des-Pres. Joseph went to bed. The collation did not take + place. Madame Descoings had lost her head; and in Agathe’s heart was + eternal mourning. + </p> + <p> + The two rose late on Christmas morning. Ten o’clock had struck before + Madame Descoings began to bestir herself about the breakfast, which was + only ready at half-past eleven. At that hour, the oblong frames containing + the winning numbers are hung over the doors of the lottery-offices. If + Madame Descoings had paid her stake and held her ticket, she would have + gone by half-past nine o’clock to learn her fate at a building close to + the ministry of Finance, in the rue Neuve-des-Petits Champs, a situation + now occupied by the Theatre Ventadour in the place of the same name. On + the days when the drawings took place, an observer might watch with + curiosity the crowd of old women, cooks, and old men assembled about the + door of this building; a sight as remarkable as the cue of people about + the Treasury on the days when the dividends are paid. + </p> + <p> + “Well, here you are, rolling in wealth!” said old Desroches, coming into + the room just as the Descoings was swallowing her last drop of coffee. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” cried poor Agathe. + </p> + <p> + “Her trey has turned up,” he said, producing the list of numbers written + on a bit of paper, such as the officials of the lottery put by hundreds + into little wooden bowls on their counters. + </p> + <p> + Joseph read the list. Agathe read the list. The Descoings read nothing; + she was struck down as by a thunderbolt. At the change in her face, at the + cry she gave, old Desroches and Joseph carried her to her bed. Agathe went + for a doctor. The poor woman was seized with apoplexy, and she only + recovered consciousness at four in the afternoon; old Haudry, her doctor, + then said that, in spite of this improvement, she ought to settle her + worldly affairs and think of her salvation. She herself only uttered two + words:— + </p> + <p> + “Three millions!” + </p> + <p> + Old Desroches, informed by Joseph, with due reservations, of the state of + things, related many instances where lottery-players had seen a fortune + escape them on the very day when, by some fatality, they had forgotten to + pay their stakes; but he thoroughly understood that such a blow might be + fatal when it came after twenty years’ perseverance. About five o’clock, + as a deep silence reigned in the little <i>appartement</i>, and the sick + woman, watched by Joseph and his mother, the one sitting at the foot, the + other at the head of her bed, was expecting her grandson Bixiou, whom + Desroches had gone to fetch, the sound of Philippe’s step and cane + resounded on the staircase. + </p> + <p> + “There he is! there he is!” cried the Descoings, sitting up in bed and + suddenly able to use her paralyzed tongue. + </p> + <p> + Agathe and Joseph were deeply impressed by this powerful effect of the + horror which violently agitated the old woman. Their painful suspense was + soon ended by the sight of Philippe’s convulsed and purple face, his + staggering walk, and the horrible state of his eyes, which were deeply + sunken, dull, and yet haggard; he had a strong chill upon him, and his + teeth chattered. + </p> + <p> + “Starvation in Prussia!” he cried, looking about him. “Nothing to eat or + drink?—and my throat on fire! Well, what’s the matter? The devil is + always meddling in our affairs. There’s my old Descoings in bed, looking + at me with her eyes as big as saucers.” + </p> + <p> + “Be silent, monsieur!” said Agathe, rising. “At least, respect the sorrows + you have caused.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Monsieur</i>, indeed!” he cried, looking at his mother. “My dear + little mother, that won’t do. Have you ceased to love your son?” + </p> + <p> + “Are you worthy of love? Have you forgotten what you did yesterday? Go and + find yourself another home; you cannot live with us any longer,—that + is, after to-morrow,” she added; “for in the state you are in now it is + difficult—” + </p> + <p> + “To turn me out,—is that it?” he interrupted. “Ha! are you going to + play the melodrama of ‘The Banished Son’? Well done! is that how you take + things? You are all a pretty set! What harm have I done? I’ve cleaned out + the old woman’s mattress. What the devil is the good of money kept in + wool? Do you call that a crime? Didn’t she take twenty thousand francs + from you? We are her creditors, and I’ve paid myself as much as I could + get,—that’s all.” + </p> + <p> + “My God! my God!” cried the dying woman, clasping her hands and praying. + </p> + <p> + “Be silent!” exclaimed Joseph, springing at his brother and putting his + hand before his mouth. + </p> + <p> + “To the right about, march! brat of a painter!” retorted Philippe, laying + his strong hand on Joseph’s head, and twirling him round, as he flung him + on a sofa. “Don’t dare to touch the moustache of a commander of a squadron + of the dragoons of the Guard!” + </p> + <p> + “She has paid me back all that she owed me,” cried Agathe, rising and + turning an angry face to her son; “and besides, that is my affair. You + have killed her. Go away, my son,” she added, with a gesture that took all + her remaining strength, “and never let me see you again. You are a + monster.” + </p> + <p> + “I kill her?” + </p> + <p> + “Her trey has turned up,” cried Joseph, “and you stole the money for her + stake.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if she is dying of a lost trey, it isn’t I who have killed her,” + said the drunkard. + </p> + <p> + “Go, go!” said Agathe. “You fill me with horror; you have every vice. My + God! is this my son?” + </p> + <p> + A hollow rattle sounded in Madame Descoings’s throat, increasing Agathe’s + anger. + </p> + <p> + “I love you still, my mother,—you who are the cause of all my + misfortunes,” said Philippe. “You turn me out of doors on Christmas-day. + What did you do to grandpa Rouget, to your father, that he should drive + you away and disinherit you? If you had not displeased him, we should all + be rich now, and I should not be reduced to misery. What did you do to + your father,—you who are a good woman? You see by your own self, I + may be a good fellow and yet be turned out of house and home,—I, the + glory of the family—” + </p> + <p> + “The disgrace of it!” cried the Descoings. + </p> + <p> + “You shall leave this room, or you shall kill me!” cried Joseph, springing + on his brother with the fury of a lion. + </p> + <p> + “My God! my God!” cried Agathe, trying to separate the brothers. + </p> + <p> + At this moment Bixiou and Haudry the doctor entered. Joseph had just + knocked his brother over and stretched him on the ground. + </p> + <p> + “He is a regular wild beast,” he cried. “Don’t speak another word, or I’ll—” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll pay you for this!” roared Philippe. + </p> + <p> + “A family explanation,” remarked Bixiou. + </p> + <p> + “Lift him up,” said the doctor, looking at him. “He is as ill as Madame + Descoings; undress him and put him to bed; get off his boots.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s easy to say,” cried Bixiou, “but they must be cut off; his legs + are swollen.” + </p> + <p> + Agathe took a pair of scissors. When she had cut down the boots, which in + those days were worn outside the clinging trousers, ten pieces of gold + rolled on the floor. + </p> + <p> + “There it is,—her money,” murmured Philippe. “Cursed fool that I + was, I forgot it. I too have missed a fortune.” + </p> + <p> + He was seized with a horrible delirium of fever, and began to rave. + Joseph, assisted by old Desroches, who had come back, and by Bixiou, + carried him to his room. Doctor Haudry was obliged to write a line to the + Hopital de la Charite and borrow a strait-waistcoat; for the delirium ran + so high as to make him fear that Philippe might kill himself,—he was + raving. At nine o’clock calm was restored. The Abbe Loraux and Desroches + endeavored to comfort Agathe, who never ceased to weep at her aunt’s + bedside. She listened to them in silence, and obstinately shook her head; + Joseph and the Descoings alone knew the extent and depth of her inward + wound. + </p> + <p> + “He will learn to do better, mother,” said Joseph, when Desroches and + Bixiou had left. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” cried the widow, “Philippe is right,—my father cursed me: I + have no right to—Here, here is your money,” she said to Madame + Descoings, adding Joseph’s three hundred francs to the two hundred found + on Philippe. “Go and see if your brother does not need something,” she + said to Joseph. + </p> + <p> + “Will you keep a promise made to a dying woman?” asked Madame Descoings, + who felt that her mind was failing her. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, aunt.” + </p> + <p> + “Then swear to me to give your property to young Desroches for a life + annuity. My income ceases at my death; and from what you have just said, I + know you will let that wretch wring the last farthing out of you.” + </p> + <p> + “I swear it, aunt.” + </p> + <p> + The old woman died on the 31st of December, five days after the terrible + blow which old Desroches had so innocently given her. The five hundred + francs—the only money in the household—were barely enough to + pay for her funeral. She left a small amount of silver and some furniture, + the value of which Madame Bixiou paid over to her grandson Bixiou. Reduced + to eight hundred francs’ annuity paid to her by young Desroches, who had + bought a business without clients, and himself took the capital of twelve + thousand francs, Agathe gave up her <i>appartement</i> on the third floor, + and sold all her superfluous furniture. When, at the end of a month, + Philippe seemed to be convalescent, his mother coldly explained to him + that the costs of his illness had taken all her ready money, that she + should be obliged in future to work for her living, and she urged him, + with the utmost kindness, to re-enter the army and support himself. + </p> + <p> + “You might have spared me that sermon,” said Philippe, looking at his + mother with an eye that was cold from utter indifference. “I have seen all + along that neither you nor my brother love me. I am alone in the world; I + like it best!” + </p> + <p> + “Make yourself worthy of our affection,” answered the poor mother, struck + to the very heart, “and we will give it back to you—” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” he cried, interrupting her. + </p> + <p> + He took his old hat, rubbed white at the edges, stuck it over one ear, and + went downstairs, whistling. + </p> + <p> + “Philippe! where are you going without any money?” cried his mother, who + could not repress her tears. “Here, take this—” + </p> + <p> + She held out to him a hundred francs in gold, wrapped up in paper. + Philippe came up the stairs he had just descended, and took the money. + </p> + <p> + “Well; won’t you kiss me?” she said, bursting into tears. + </p> + <p> + He pressed his mother in his arms, but without the warmth of feeling which + was all that could give value to the embrace. + </p> + <p> + “Where shall you go?” asked Agathe. + </p> + <p> + “To Florentine, Girodeau’s mistress. Ah! they are real friends!” he + answered brutally. + </p> + <p> + He went away. Agathe turned back with trembling limbs, and failing eyes, + and aching heart. She fell upon her knees, prayed God to take her + unnatural child into His own keeping, and abdicated her woeful motherhood. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <p> + By February, 1822, Madame Bridau had settled into the attic room recently + occupied by Philippe, which was over the kitchen of her former <i>appartement</i>. + The painter’s studio and bedroom was opposite, on the other side of the + staircase. When Joseph saw his mother thus reduced, he was determined to + make her as comfortable as possible. After his brother’s departure he + assisted in the re-arrangement of the garret room, to which he gave an + artist’s touch. He added a rug; the bed, simple in character but exquisite + in taste, had something monastic about it; the walls, hung with a cheap + glazed cotton selected with taste, of a color which harmonized with the + furniture and was newly covered, gave the room an air of elegance and + nicety. In the hallway he added a double door, with a “portiere” to the + inner one. The window was shaded by a blind which gave soft tones to the + light. If the poor mother’s life was reduced to the plainest circumstances + that the life of any woman could have in Paris, Agathe was at least better + off than all others in a like case, thanks to her son. + </p> + <p> + To save his mother from the cruel cares of such reduced housekeeping, + Joseph took her every day to dine at a table-d’hote in the rue de Beaune, + frequented by well-bred women, deputies, and titled people, where each + person’s dinner cost ninety francs a month. Having nothing but the + breakfast to provide, Agathe took up for her son the old habits she had + formerly had with the father. But in spite of Joseph’s pious lies, she + discovered the fact that her dinner was costing him nearly a hundred + francs a month. Alarmed at such enormous expense, and not imaging that her + son could earn much money by painting naked women, she obtained, thanks to + her confessor, the Abbe Loraux, a place worth seven hundred francs a year + in a lottery-office belonging to the Comtesse de Bauvan, the widow of a + Chouan leader. The lottery-offices of the government, the lot, as one + might say, of privileged widows, ordinarily sufficed for the support of + the family of each person who managed them. But after the Restoration the + difficulty of rewarding, within the limits of constitutional government, + all the services rendered to the cause, led to the custom of giving to + reduced women of title not only one but two lottery-offices, worth, + usually, from six to ten thousand a year. In such cases, the widow of a + general or nobleman thus “protected” did not keep the lottery-office + herself; she employed a paid manager. When these managers were young men + they were obliged to employ an assistant; for, according to law, the + offices had to be kept open till midnight; moreover, the reports required + by the minister of finance involved considerable writing. The Comtesse de + Bauvan, to whom the Abbe Loraux explained the circumstances of the widow + Bridau, promised, in case her manager should leave, to give the place to + Agathe; meantime she stipulated that the widow should be taken as + assistant, and receive a salary of six hundred francs. Poor Agathe, who + was obliged to be at the office by ten in the morning, had scarcely time + to get her dinner. She returned to her work at seven in the evening, + remaining there till midnight. Joseph never, for two years, failed to + fetch his mother at night, and bring her back to the rue Mazarin; and + often he went to take her to dinner; his friends frequently saw him leave + the opera or some brilliant salon to be punctually at midnight at the + office in the rue Vivienne. + </p> + <p> + Agathe soon acquired the monotonous regularity of life which becomes a + stay and a support to those who have endured the shock of violent sorrows. + In the morning, after doing up her room, in which there were no longer + cats and little birds, she prepared the breakfast at her own fire and + carried it into the studio, where she ate it with her son. She then + arranged Joseph’s bedroom, put out the fire in her own chamber, and + brought her sewing to the studio, where she sat by the little iron stove, + leaving the room if a comrade or a model entered it. Though she understood + nothing whatever of art, the silence of the studio suited her. In the + matter of art she made not the slightest progress; she attempted no + hypocrisy; she was utterly amazed at the importance they all attached to + color, composition, drawing. When the Cenacle friends or some + brother-painter, like Schinner, Pierre Grassou, Leon de Lora,—a very + youthful “rapin” who was called at that time Mistigris,—discussed a + picture, she would come back afterwards, examine it attentively, and + discover nothing to justify their fine words and their hot disputes. She + made her son’s shirts, she mended his stockings, she even cleaned his + palette, supplied him with rags to wipe his brushes, and kept things in + order in the studio. Seeing how much thought his mother gave to these + little details, Joseph heaped attentions upon her in return. If mother and + son had no sympathies in the matter of art, they were at least bound + together by signs of tenderness. The mother had a purpose. One morning as + she was petting Joseph while he was sketching a large picture (finished in + after years and never understood), she said, as it were, casually and + aloud,— + </p> + <p> + “My God! what is he doing?” + </p> + <p> + “Doing? who?” + </p> + <p> + “Philippe.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, ah! he’s sowing his wild oats; that fellow will make something of + himself by and by.” + </p> + <p> + “But he has gone through the lesson of poverty; perhaps it was poverty + which changed him to what he is. If he were prosperous he would be good—” + </p> + <p> + “You think, my dear mother, that he suffered during that journey of his. + You are mistaken; he kept carnival in New York just as he does here—” + </p> + <p> + “But if he is suffering at this moment, near to us, would it not be + horrible?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied Joseph. “For my part, I will gladly give him some money; + but I don’t want to see him; he killed our poor Descoings.” + </p> + <p> + “So,” resumed Agathe, “you would not be willing to paint his portrait?” + </p> + <p> + “For you, dear mother, I’d suffer martyrdom. I can make myself remember + nothing except that he is my brother.” + </p> + <p> + “His portrait as a captain of dragoons on horseback?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I’ve a copy of a fine horse by Gros and I haven’t any use for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, go and see that friend of his and find out what has become of + him.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll go!” + </p> + <p> + Agathe rose; her scissors and work fell at her feet; she went and kissed + Joseph’s head, and dropped two tears on his hair. + </p> + <p> + “He is your passion, that fellow,” said the painter. “We all have our + hopeless passions.” + </p> + <p> + That afternoon, about four o’clock, Joseph went to the rue du Sentier and + found his brother, who had taken Giroudeau’s place. The old dragoon had + been promoted to be cashier of a weekly journal established by his nephew. + Although Finot was still proprietor of the other newspaper, which he had + divided into shares, holding all the shares himself, the proprietor and + editor “de visu” was one of his friends, named Lousteau, the son of that + very sub-delegate of Issoudun on whom the Bridaus’ grandfather, Doctor + Rouget, had vowed vengeance; consequently he was the nephew of Madame + Hochon. To make himself agreeable to his uncle, Finot gave Philippe the + place Giroudeau was quitting; cutting off, however, half the salary. + Moreover, daily, at five o’clock, Giroudeau audited the accounts and + carried away the receipts. Coloquinte, the old veteran, who was the office + boy and did errands, also kept an eye on the slippery Philippe; who was, + however, behaving properly. A salary of six hundred francs, and the five + hundred of his cross sufficed him to live, all the more because, living in + a warm office all day and at the theatre on a free pass every evening, he + had only to provide himself with food and a place to sleep in. Coloquinte + was departing with the stamped papers on his head, and Philippe was + brushing his false sleeves of green linen, when Joseph entered. + </p> + <p> + “Bless me, here’s the cub!” cried Philippe. “Well, we’ll go and dine + together. You shall go to the opera; Florine and Florentine have got a + box. I’m going with Giroudeau; you shall be of the party, and I’ll + introduce you to Nathan.” + </p> + <p> + He took his leaded cane, and moistened a cigar. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t accept your invitation; I am to take our mother to dine at a + table d’hote.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! how is she, the poor, dear woman?” + </p> + <p> + “She is pretty well,” answered the painter, “I have just repainted our + father’s portrait, and aunt Descoings’s. I have also painted my own, and I + should like to give our mother yours, in the uniform of the dragoons of + the Imperial Guard.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good.” + </p> + <p> + “You will have to come and sit.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m obliged to be in this hen-coop from nine o’clock till five.” + </p> + <p> + “Two Sundays will be enough.” + </p> + <p> + “So be it, little man,” said Napoleon’s staff officer, lighting his cigar + at the porter’s lamp. + </p> + <p> + When Joseph related Philippe’s position to his mother, on their way to + dinner in the rue de Beaune, he felt her arm tremble in his, and joy + lighted up her worn face; the poor soul breathed like one relieved of a + heavy weight. The next day, inspired by joy and gratitude, she paid Joseph + a number of little attentions; she decorated his studio with flowers, and + bought him two stands of plants. On the first Sunday when Philippe was to + sit, Agathe arranged a charming breakfast in the studio. She laid it all + out on the table; not forgetting a flask of brandy, which, however, was + only half full. She herself stayed behind a screen, in which she made a + little hole. The ex-dragoon sent his uniform the night before, and she had + not refrained from kissing it. When Philippe was placed, in full dress, on + one of those straw horses, all saddled, which Joseph had hired for the + occasion, Agathe, fearing to betray her presence, mingled the soft sound + of her tears with the conversation of the two brothers. Philippe posed for + two hours before and two hours after breakfast. At three o’clock in the + afternoon, he put on his ordinary clothes and, as he lighted a cigar, he + proposed to his brother to go and dine together in the Palais-Royal, + jingling gold in his pocket as he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Joseph, “it frightens me to see gold about you.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you’ll always have a bad opinion of me in this house,” cried the + colonel in a thundering voice. “Can’t I save my money, too?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes!” cried Agathe, coming out of her hiding-place, and kissing her + son. “Let us go and dine with him, Joseph!” + </p> + <p> + Joseph dared not scold his mother. He went and dressed himself; and + Philippe took them to the Rocher de Cancale, where he gave them a splendid + dinner, the bill for which amounted to a hundred francs. + </p> + <p> + “The devil!” muttered Joseph uneasily; “with an income of eleven hundred + francs you manage, like Ponchard in the ‘Dame Blance,’ to save enough to + buy estates.” + </p> + <p> + “Bah, I’m on a run of luck,” answered the dragoon, who had drunk + enormously. + </p> + <p> + Hearing this speech just as they were on the steps of the cafe, and before + they got into the carriage to go to the theatre,—for Philippe was to + take his mother to the Cirque-Olympique (the only theatre her confessor + allowed her to visit),—Joseph pinched his mother’s arm. She at once + pretended to feel unwell, and refused to go the theatre; Philippe + accordingly took them back to the rue Mazarin, where, as soon as she was + alone with Joseph in her garret, Agathe fell into a gloomy silence. + </p> + <p> + The following Sunday Philippe came again. This time his mother was visibly + present at the sitting. She served the breakfast, and put several + questions to the dragoon. She then learned that the nephew of old Madame + Hochon, the friend of her mother, played a considerable part in + literature. Philippe and his friend Giroudeau lived among a circle of + journalists, actresses, and booksellers, where they were regarded in the + light of cashiers. Philippe, who had been drinking kirsch before posing, + was loquacious. He boasted that he was about to become a great man. But + when Joseph asked a question as to his pecuniary resources he was dumb. It + so happened that there was no newspaper on the following day, it being a + fete, and to finish the picture Philippe proposed to sit again on the + morrow. Joseph told him that the Salon was close at hand, and as he did + not have the money to buy two frames for the pictures he wished to + exhibit, he was forced to procure it by finishing a copy of a Rubens which + had been ordered by Elie Magus, the picture-dealer. The original belonged + to a wealthy Swiss banker, who had only lent it for ten days, and the next + day was the last; the sitting must therefore be put off till the following + Sunday. + </p> + <p> + “Is that it?” asked Philippe, pointing to a picture by Rubens on an easel. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied Joseph; “it is worth twenty thousand francs. That’s what + genius can do. It will take me all to-morrow to get the tones of the + original and make the copy look so old it can’t be distinguished from it.” + </p> + <p> + “Adieu, mother,” said Philippe, kissing Agathe. “Next Sunday, then.” + </p> + <p> + The next day Elie Magus was to come for his copy. Joseph’s friend, Pierre + Grassou, who was working for the same dealer, wanted to see it when + finished. To play him a trick, Joseph, when he heard his knock, put the + copy, which was varnished with a special glaze of his own, in place of the + original, and put the original on his easel. Pierre Grassou was completely + taken in; and then amazed and delighted at Joseph’s success. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think it will deceive old Magus?” he said to Joseph. + </p> + <p> + “We shall see,” answered the latter. + </p> + <p> + The dealer did not come as he had promised. It was getting late; Agathe + dined that day with Madame Desroches, who had lately lost her husband, and + Joseph proposed to Pierre Grassou to dine at his table d’hote. As he went + out he left the key of his studio with the concierge. + </p> + <p> + An hour later Philippe appeared and said to the concierge,— + </p> + <p> + “I am to sit this evening; Joseph will be in soon, and I will wait for him + in the studio.” + </p> + <p> + The woman gave him the key; Philippe went upstairs, took the copy, + thinking it was the original, and went down again; returned the key to the + concierge with the excuse that he had forgotten something, and hurried off + to sell his Rubens for three thousand francs. He had taken the precaution + to convey a message from his brother to Elie Magus, asking him not to call + till the following day. + </p> + <p> + That evening when Joseph returned, bringing his mother from Madame + Desroches’s, the concierge told him of Philippe’s freak,—how he had + called intending to wait, and gone away again immediately. + </p> + <p> + “I am ruined—unless he has had the delicacy to take the copy,” cried + the painter, instantly suspecting the theft. He ran rapidly up the three + flights and rushed into his studio. “God be praised!” he ejaculated. “He + is, what he always has been, a vile scoundrel.” + </p> + <p> + Agathe, who had followed Joseph, did not understand what he was saying; + but when her son explained what had happened, she stood still, with the + tears in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Have I but one son?” she said in a broken voice. + </p> + <p> + “We have never yet degraded him to the eyes of strangers,” said Joseph; + “but we must now warn the concierge. In future we shall have to keep the + keys ourselves. I’ll finish his blackguard face from memory; there’s not + much to do to it.” + </p> + <p> + “Leave it as it is; it will pain me too much ever to look at it,” answered + the mother, heart-stricken and stupefied at such wickedness. + </p> + <p> + Philippe had been told how the money for this copy was to be expended; + moreover he knew the abyss into which he would plunge his brother through + the loss of the Rubens; but nothing restrained him. After this last crime + Agathe never mentioned him; her face acquired an expression of cold and + concentrated and bitter despair; one thought took possession of her mind. + </p> + <p> + “Some day,” she said to herself, “we shall hear of a Bridau in the police + courts.” + </p> + <p> + Two months later, as Agathe was about to start for her office, an old + officer, who announced himself as a friend of Philippe on urgent business, + called on Madame Bridau, who happened to be in Joseph’s studio. + </p> + <p> + When Giroudeau gave his name, mother and son trembled, and none the less + because the ex-dragoon had the face of a tough old sailor of the worst + type. His fishy gray eyes, his piebald moustache, the remains of his + shaggy hair fringing a skull that was the color of fresh butter, all gave + an indescribably debauched and libidinous expression to his appearance. He + wore an old iron-gray overcoat decorated with the red ribbon of an officer + of the Legion of honor, which met with difficulty over a gastronomic + stomach in keeping with a mouth that stretched from ear to ear, and a pair + of powerful shoulders. The torso was supported by a spindling pair of + legs, while the rubicund tints on the cheek-bones bore testimony to a + rollicking life. The lower part of the cheeks, which were deeply wrinkled, + overhung a coat-collar of velvet the worse for wear. Among other + adornments, the ex-dragoon wore enormous gold rings in his ears. + </p> + <p> + “What a ‘noceur’!” thought Joseph, using a popular expression, meaning a + “loose fish,” which had lately passed into the ateliers. + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” said Finot’s uncle and cashier, “your son is in so unfortunate a + position that his friends find it absolutely necessary to ask you to share + the somewhat heavy expense which he is to them. He can no longer do his + work at the office; and Mademoiselle Florentine, of the + Porte-Saint-Martin, has taken him to lodge with her, in a miserable attic + in the rue de Vendome. Philippe is dying; and if you and his brother are + not able to pay for the doctor and medicines, we shall be obliged, for the + sake of curing him, to have him taken to the hospital of the Capuchins. + For three hundred francs we would keep him where he is. But he must have a + nurse; for at night, when Mademoiselle Florentine is at the theatre, he + persists in going out, and takes things that are irritating and injurious + to his malady and its treatment. As we are fond of him, this makes us + really very unhappy. The poor fellow has pledged the pension of his cross + for the next three years; he is temporarily displaced from his office, and + he has literally nothing. He will kill himself, madame, unless we can put + him into the private asylum of Doctor Dubois. It is a decent hospital, + where they will take him for ten francs a day. Florentine and I will pay + half, if you will pay the rest; it won’t be for more than two months.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, it is difficult for a mother not to be eternally grateful to + you for your kindness to her son,” replied Agathe; “but this son is + banished from my heart, and as for money, I have none. Not to be a burden + on my son whom you see here, who works day and night and deserves all the + love his mother can give him, I am the assistant in a lottery-office—at + my age!” + </p> + <p> + “And you, young man,” said the old dragoon to Joseph; “can’t you do as + much for your brother as a poor dancer at the Porte-Saint-Martin and an + old soldier?” + </p> + <p> + “Look here!” said Joseph, out of patience; “do you want me to tell you in + artist language what I think of your visit? Well, you have come to swindle + us on false pretences.” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow your brother shall go to the hospital.” + </p> + <p> + “And he will do very well there,” answered Joseph. “If I were in like + case, I should go there too.” + </p> + <p> + Giroudeau withdrew, much disappointed, and also really mortified at being + obliged to send to a hospital a man who had carried the Emperor’s orders + at the battle of Montereau. Three months later, at the end of July, as + Agathe one morning was crossing the Pont Neuf to avoid paying a sou at the + Pont des Arts, she saw, coming along by the shops of the Quai de l’Ecole, + a man bearing all the signs of second-class poverty, who, she thought, + resembled Philippe. In Paris, there are three distinct classes of poverty. + First, the poverty of the man who preserves appearances, and to whom a + future still belongs; this is the poverty of young men, artists, men of + the world, momentarily unfortunate. The outward signs of their distress + are not visible, except under the microscope of a close observer. These + persons are the equestrian order of poverty; they continue to drive about + in cabriolets. In the second order we find old men who have become + indifferent to everything, and, in June, put the cross of the Legion of + honor on alpaca overcoats; that is the poverty of small incomes,—of + old clerks, who live at Sainte-Perine and care no longer about their + outward man. Then comes, in the third place, poverty in rags, the poverty + of the people, the poverty that is poetic; which Callot, Hogarth, Murillo, + Charlet, Raffet, Gavarni, Meissonier, Art itself adores and cultivates, + especially during the carnival. The man in whom poor Agathe thought she + recognized her son was astride the last two classes of poverty. She saw + the ragged neck-cloth, the scurfy hat, the broken and patched boots, the + threadbare coat, whose buttons had shed their mould, leaving the empty + shrivelled pod dangling in congruity with the torn pockets and the dirty + collar. Scraps of flue were in the creases of the coat, which showed + plainly the dust that filled it. The man drew from the pockets of his + seam-rent iron-gray trousers a pair of hands as black as those of a + mechanic. A knitted woollen waistcoat, discolored by use, showed below the + sleeves of his coat, and above the trousers, and no doubt served instead + of a shirt. Philippe wore a green silk shade with a wire edge over his + eyes; his head, which was nearly bald, the tints of his skin, and his + sunken face too plainly revealed that he was just leaving the terrible + Hopital du Midi. His blue overcoat, whitened at the seams, was still + decorated with the ribbon of his cross; and the passers-by looked at the + hero, doubtless some victim of the government, with curiosity and + commiseration; the rosette attracted notice, and the fiercest “ultra” was + jealous for the honor of the Legion. In those days, however much the + government endeavored to bring the Order into disrepute by bestowing its + cross right and left, there were not fifty-three thousand persons + decorated. + </p> + <p> + Agathe trembled through her whole being. If it were impossible to love + this son any longer, she could still suffer for him. Quivering with this + last expression of motherhood, she wept as she saw the brilliant staff + officer of the Emperor turn to enter tobacconist’s and pause on the + threshold; he had felt in his pocket and found nothing. Agathe left the + bridge, crossed the quai rapidly, took out her purse, thrust it into + Philippe’s hand, and fled away as if she had committed a crime. After + that, she ate nothing for two days; before her was the horrible vision of + her son dying of hunger in the streets of Paris. + </p> + <p> + “When he has spent all the money in my purse, who will give him any?” she + thought. “Giroudeau did not deceive us; Philippe is just out of that + hospital.” + </p> + <p> + She no longer saw the assassin of her poor aunt, the scourge of the + family, the domestic thief, the gambler, the drunkard, the low liver of a + bad life; she saw only the man recovering from illness, yet doomed to die + of starvation, the smoker deprived of his tobacco. At forty-seven years of + age she grew to look like a woman of seventy. Her eyes were dimmed with + tears and prayers. Yet it was not the last grief this son was to bring + upon her; her worst apprehensions were destined to be realized. A + conspiracy of officers was discovered at the heart of the army, and + articles from the “Moniteur” giving details of the arrests were hawked + about the streets. + </p> + <p> + In the depths of her cage in the lottery-office of the rue Vivienne, + Agathe heard the name of Philippe Bridau. She fainted, and the manager, + understanding her trouble and the necessity of taking certain steps, gave + her leave of absence for two weeks. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! my friend,” she said to Joseph, as she went to bed that night, “it is + our severity which drove him to it.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll go and see Desroches,” answered Joseph. + </p> + <p> + While the artist was confiding his brother’s affairs to the younger + Desroches,—who by this time had the reputation of being one of the + keenest and most astute lawyers in Paris, and who, moreover, did sundry + services for personages of distinction, among others for des Lupeaulx, + then secretary of a ministry,—Giroudeau called upon the widow. This + time, Agathe believed him. + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” he said, “if you can produce twelve thousand francs your son + will be set at liberty for want of proof. It is necessary to buy the + silence of two witnesses.” + </p> + <p> + “I will get the money,” said the poor mother, without knowing how or + where. + </p> + <p> + Inspired by this danger, she wrote to her godmother, old Madame Hochon, + begging her to ask Jean-Jacques Rouget to send her the twelve thousand + francs and save his nephew Philippe. If Rouget refused, she entreated + Madame Hochon to lend them to her, promising to return them in two years. + By return of courier, she received the following letter:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My dear girl: Though your brother has an income of not less than + forty thousand francs a year, without counting the sums he has + laid by for the last seventeen years, and which Monsieur Hochon + estimates at more than six hundred thousand francs, he will not + give one penny to nephews whom he has never seen. As for me, you + know I cannot dispose of a farthing while my husband lives. Hochon + is the greatest miser in Issoudun. I do not know what he does with + his money; he does not give twenty francs a year to his + grandchildren. As for borrowing the money, I should have to get + his signature, and he would refuse it. I have not even attempted + to speak to your brother, who lives with a concubine, to whom he + is a slave. It is pitiable to see how the poor man is treated in + his own home, when he might have a sister and nephews to take care + of him. + + I have hinted to you several times that your presence at Issoudun + might save your brother, and rescue a fortune of forty, perhaps + sixty, thousand francs a year from the claws of that slut; but you + either do not answer me, or you seem never to understand my + meaning. So to-day I am obliged to write without epistolary + circumlocution. I feel for the misfortune which has overtaken you, + but, my dearest, I can do no more than pity you. And this is why: + Hochon, at eighty-five years of age, takes four meals a day, eats + a salad with hard-boiled eggs every night, and frisks about like a + rabbit. I shall have spent my whole life—for he will live to + write my epitaph—without ever having had twenty francs in my + purse. If you will come to Issoudun and counteract the influence + of that concubine over your brother, you must stay with me, for + there are reasons why Rouget cannot receive you in his own house; + but even then, I shall have hard work to get my husband to let me + have you here. However, you can safely come; I can make him mind + me as to that. I know a way to get what I want out of him; I have + only to speak of making my will. It seems such a horrid thing to + do that I do not often have recourse to it; but for you, dear + Agathe, I will do the impossible. + + I hope your Philippe will get out of his trouble; and I beg you to + employ a good lawyer. In any case, come to Issoudun as soon as you + can. Remember that your imbecile of a brother at fifty-seven is an + older and weaker man than Monsieur Hochon. So it is a pressing + matter. People are talking already of a will that cuts off your + inheritance; but Monsieur Hochon says there is still time to get + it revoked. + + Adieu, my little Agathe; may God help you! Believe in the love of + your godmother, + + Maximilienne Hochon, nee Lousteau. + + P.S. Has my nephew, Etienne, who writes in the newspapers and is + intimate, they tell me, with your son Philippe, been to pay his + respects to you? But come at once to Issoudun, and we will talk + over things. +</pre> + <p> + This letter made a great impression on Agathe, who showed it, of course, + to Joseph, to whom she had been forced to mention Giroudeau’s proposal. + The artist, who grew wary when it concerned his brother, pointed out to + her that she ought to tell everything to Desroches. + </p> + <p> + Conscious of the wisdom of that advice, Agathe went with her son the next + morning, at six o’clock, to find Desroches at his house in the rue de + Bussy. The lawyer, as cold and stern as his late father, with a sharp + voice, a rough skin, implacable eyes, and the visage of a fox as he licks + his lips of the blood of chickens, bounded like a tiger when he heard of + Giroudeau’s visit and proposal. + </p> + <p> + “And pray, mere Bridau,” he cried, in his little cracked voice, “how long + are you going to be duped by your cursed brigand of a son? Don’t give him + a farthing. Make yourself easy, I’ll answer for Philippe. I should like to + see him brought before the Court of Peers; it might save his future. You + are afraid he will be condemned; but I say, may it please God his lawyer + lets him be convicted. Go to Issoudun, secure the property for your + children. If you don’t succeed, if your brother has made a will in favor + of that woman, and you can’t make him revoke it,—well then, at least + get all the evidence you can of undue influence, and I’ll institute + proceedings for you. But you are too honest a woman to know how to get at + the bottom facts of such a matter. I’ll go myself to Issoudun in the + holidays,—if I can.” + </p> + <p> + That “go myself” made Joseph tremble in his skin. Desroches winked at him + to let his mother go downstairs first, and then the lawyer detained the + young man for a single moment. + </p> + <p> + “Your brother is a great scoundrel; he is the cause of the discovery of + this conspiracy,—intentionally or not, I can’t say, for the rascal + is so sly no one can find out the exact truth as to that. Fool or traitor,—take + your choice. He will be put under the surveillance of the police, nothing + more. You needn’t be uneasy; no one knows this secret but myself. Go to + Issoudun with your mother. You have good sense; try to save the property.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, my poor mother, Desroches is right,” said Joseph, rejoining Agathe + on the staircase. “I have sold my two pictures, let us start for Berry; + you have two weeks’ leave of absence.” + </p> + <p> + After writing to her godmother to announce their arrival, Agathe and + Joseph started the next evening for their trip to Issoudun, leaving + Philippe to his fate. The diligence rolled through the rue d’Enfer toward + the Orleans highroad. When Agathe saw the Luxembourg, to which Philippe + had been transferred, she could not refrain from saying,— + </p> + <p> + “If it were not for the Allies he would never be there!” + </p> + <p> + Many sons would have made an impatient gesture and smiled with pity; but + the artist, who was alone with his mother in the coupe, caught her in his + arms and pressed her to his heart, exclaiming:— + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mother! you are a mother just as Raphael was a painter. And you will + always be a fool of a mother!” + </p> + <p> + Madame Bridau’s mind, diverted before long from her griefs by the + distractions of the journey, began to dwell on the purpose of it. She + re-read the letter of Madame Hochon, which had so stirred up the lawyer + Desroches. Struck with the words “concubine” and “slut,” which the pen of + a septuagenarian as pious as she was respectable had used to designate the + woman now in process of getting hold of Jean-Jacques Rouget’s property, + struck also with the word “imbecile” applied to Rouget himself, she began + to ask herself how, by her presence at Issoudun, she was to save the + inheritance. Joseph, poor disinterested artist that he was, knew little + enough about the Code, and his mother’s last remark absorbed his mind. + </p> + <p> + “Before our friend Desroches sent us off to protect our rights, he ought + to have explained to us the means of doing so,” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “So far as my poor head, which whirls at the thought of Philippe in + prison,—without tobacco, perhaps, and about to appear before the + Court of Peers!—leaves me any distinct memory,” returned Agathe, “I + think young Desroches said we were to get evidence of undue influence, in + case my brother has made a will in favor of that—that—woman.” + </p> + <p> + “He is good at that, Desroches is,” cried the painter. “Bah! if we can + make nothing of it I’ll get him to come himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, don’t let us trouble our heads uselessly,” said Agathe. “When we + get to Issoudun my godmother will tell us what to do.” + </p> + <p> + This conversation, which took place just after Madame Bridau and Joseph + changed coaches at Orleans and entered the Sologne, is sufficient proof of + the incapacity of the painter and his mother to play the part the + inexorable Desroches had assigned to them. + </p> + <p> + In returning to Issoudun after thirty years’ absence, Agathe was about to + find such changes in its manners and customs that it is necessary to + sketch, in a few words, a picture of that town. Without it, the reader + would scarcely understand the heroism displayed by Madame Hochon in + assisting her goddaughter, or the strange situation of Jean-Jacques + Rouget. Though Doctor Rouget had taught his son to regard Agathe in the + light of a stranger, it was certainly a somewhat extraordinary thing that + for thirty years a brother should have given no signs of life to a sister. + Such a silence was evidently caused by peculiar circumstances, and any + other sister and nephew than Agathe and Joseph would long ago have + inquired into them. There is, moreover, a certain connection between the + condition of the city of Issoudun and the interests of the Bridau family, + which can only be seen as the story goes on. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <p> + Issoudun, be it said without offence to Paris, is one of the oldest cities + in France. In spite of the historical assumption which makes the emperor + Probus the Noah of the Gauls, Caesar speaks of the excellent wine of + Champ-Fort (“de Campo Forti”) still one of the best vintages of Issoudun. + Rigord writes of this city in language which leaves no doubt as to its + great population and its immense commerce. But these testimonies both + assign a much lesser age to the city than its ancient antiquity demands. + In fact, the excavations lately undertaken by a learned archaeologist of + the place, Monsieur Armand Peremet, have brought to light, under the + celebrated tower of Issoudun, a basilica of the fifth century, probably + the only one in France. This church preserves, in its very materials, the + sign-manual of an anterior civilization; for its stones came from a Roman + temple which stood on the same site. + </p> + <p> + Issoudun, therefore, according to the researches of this antiquary, like + other cities of France whose ancient or modern autonym ends in “Dun” + (“dunum”) bears in its very name the certificate of an autochthonous + existence. The word “Dun,” the appanage of all dignity consecrated by + Druidical worship, proves a religious and military settlement of the + Celts. Beneath the Dun of the Gauls must have lain the Roman temple to + Isis. From that comes, according to Chaumon, the name of the city, + Issous-Dun,—“Is” being the abbreviation of “Isis.” Richard + Coeur-de-lion undoubtedly built the famous tower (in which he coined + money) above the basilica of the fifth century,—the third monument + of the third religion of this ancient town. He used the church as a + necessary foundation, or stay, for the raising of the rampart; and he + preserved it by covering it with feudal fortifications as with a mantle. + Issoudun was at that time the seat of the ephemeral power of the Routiers + and the Cottereaux, adventurers and free-lancers, whom Henry II. sent + against his son Richard, at the time of his rebellion as Comte de Poitou. + </p> + <p> + The history of Aquitaine, which was not written by the Benedictines, will + probably never be written, because there are no longer Benedictines: thus + we are not able to light up these archaeological tenebrae in the history + of our manners and customs on every occasion of their appearance. There is + another testimony to the ancient importance of Issoudun in the conversion + into a canal of the Tournemine, a little stream raised several feet above + the level of the Theols which surrounds the town. This is undoubtedly the + work of Roman genius. Moreover, the suburb which extends from the castle + in a northerly direction is intersected by a street which for more than + two thousand years has borne the name of the rue de Rome; and the + inhabitants of this suburb, whose racial characteristics, blood, and + physiognomy have a special stamp of their own, call themselves descendants + of the Romans. They are nearly all vine-growers, and display a remarkable + inflexibility of manners and customs, due, undoubtedly, to their origin,—perhaps + also to their victory over the Cottereaux and the Routiers, whom they + exterminated on the plain of Charost in the twelfth century. + </p> + <p> + After the insurrection of 1830, France was too agitated to pay much + attention to the rising of the vine-growers of Issoudun; a terrible + affair, the facts of which have never been made public,—for good + reasons. In the first place, the bourgeois of Issoudun refused to allow + the military to enter the town. They followed the use and wont of the + bourgeoisie of the Middle Ages and declared themselves responsible for + their own city. The government was obliged to yield to a sturdy people + backed up by seven or eight thousand vine-growers, who had burned all the + archives, also the offices of “indirect taxation,” and had dragged through + the streets a customs officer, crying out at every street lantern, “Let us + hang him here!” The poor man’s life was saved by the national guard, who + took him to prison on pretext of drawing up his indictment. The general in + command only entered the town by virtue of a compromise made with the + vine-growers; and it needed some courage to go among them. At the moment + when he showed himself at the hotel-de-ville, a man from the faubourg de + Rome slung a “volant” round his neck (the “volant” is a huge pruning-hook + fastened to a pole, with which they trim trees) crying out, “No more + clerks, or there’s an end to compromise!” The fellow would have taken off + that honored head, left untouched by sixteen years of war, had it not been + for the hasty intervention of one of the leaders of the revolt, to whom a + promise had been made that <i>the chambers should be asked to suppress the + excisemen</i>. + </p> + <p> + In the fourteenth century, Issoudun still had sixteen or seventeen + thousand inhabitants, remains of a population double that number in the + time of Rigord. Charles VII. possessed a mansion which still exists, and + was known, as late as the eighteenth century, as the Maison du Roi. This + town, then a centre of the woollen trade, supplied that commodity to the + greater part of Europe, and manufactured on a large scale blankets, hats, + and the excellent Chevreautin gloves. Under Louis XIV., Issoudun, the + birthplace of Baron and Bourdaloue, was always cited as a city of elegance + and good society, where the language was correctly spoken. The curate + Poupard, in his History of Sancerre, mentions the inhabitants of Issoudun + as remarkable among the other Berrichons for subtlety and natural wit. + To-day, the wit and the splendor have alike disappeared. Issoudun, whose + great extent of ground bears witness to its ancient importance, has now + barely twelve thousand inhabitants, including the vine-dressers of four + enormous suburbs,—those of Saint-Paterne, Vilatte, Rome, and + Alouette, which are really small towns. The bourgeoisie, like that of + Versailles, are spread over the length and breadth of the streets. + Issoudun still holds the market for the fleeces of Berry; a commerce now + threatened by improvements in the stock which are being introduced + everywhere except in Berry. + </p> + <p> + The vineyards of Issoudun produce a wine which is drunk throughout the two + departments, and which, if manufactured as Burgundy and Gascony + manufacture theirs, would be one of the best wines in France. Alas, “to do + as our fathers did,” with no innovations, is the law of the land. + Accordingly, the vine-growers continue to leave the refuse of the grape in + the juice during its fermentation, which makes the wine detestable, when + it might be a source of ever-springing wealth, and an industry for the + community. Thanks to the bitterness which the refuse infuses into the + wine, and which, they say, lessens with age, a vintage will keep a + century. This reason, given by the vine-grower in excuse for his + obstinacy, is of sufficient importance to oenology to be made public here; + Guillaume le Breton has also proclaimed it in some lines of his + “Phillippide.” + </p> + <p> + The decline of Issoudun is explained by this spirit of sluggishness, + sunken to actual torpor, which a single fact will illustrate. When the + authorities were talking of a highroad between Paris and Toulouse, it was + natural to think of taking it from Vierzon to Chateauroux by way of + Issoudun. The distance was shorter than to make it, as the road now is, + through Vatan, but the leading people of the neighborhood and the city + council of Issoudun (whose discussion of the matter is said to be + recorded), demanded that it should go by Vatan, on the ground that if the + highroad went through their town, provisions would rise in price and they + might be forced to pay thirty sous for a chicken. The only analogy to be + found for this proceeding is in the wilder parts of Sardinia, a land once + so rich and populous, now so deserted. When Charles Albert, with a + praiseworthy intention of civilization, wished to unite Sassari, the + second capital of the island, with Cagliari by a magnificent highway (the + only one ever made in that wild waste by name Sardinia), the direct line + lay through Bornova, a district inhabited by lawless people, all the more + like our Arab tribes because they are descended from the Moors. Seeing + that they were about to fall into the clutches of civilization, the + savages of Bornova, without taking the trouble to discuss the matter, + declared their opposition to the road. The government took no notice of + it. The first engineer who came to survey it, got a ball through his head, + and died on his level. No action was taken on this murder, but the road + made a circuit which lengthened it by eight miles! + </p> + <p> + The continual lowering of the price of wines drunk in the neighborhood, + though it may satisfy the desire of the bourgeoisie of Issoudun for cheap + provisions, is leading the way to the ruin of the vine-growers, who are + more and more burdened with the costs of cultivation and the taxes; just + as the ruin of the woollen trade is the result of the non-improvement in + the breeding of sheep. Country-folk have the deepest horror of change; + even that which is most conducive to their interests. In the country, a + Parisian meets a laborer who eats an enormous quantity of bread, cheese, + and vegetables; he proves to him that if he would substitute for that diet + a certain portion of meat, he would be better fed, at less cost; that he + could work more, and would not use up his capital of health and strength + so quickly. The Berrichon sees the correctness of the calculation, but he + answers, “Think of the gossip, monsieur.” “Gossip, what do you mean?” + “Well, yes, what would people say of me?” “He would be the talk of the + neighborhood,” said the owner of the property on which this scene took + place; “they would think him as rich as a tradesman. He is afraid of + public opinion, afraid of being pointed at, afraid of seeming ill or + feeble. That’s how we all are in this region.” Many of the bourgeoisie + utter this phrase with feelings of inward pride. + </p> + <p> + While ignorance and custom are invincible in the country regions, where + the peasants are left very much to themselves, the town of Issoudun itself + has reached a state of complete social stagnation. Obliged to meet the + decadence of fortunes by the practice of sordid economy, each family lives + to itself. Moreover, society is permanently deprived of that distinction + of classes which gives character to manners and customs. There is no + opposition of social forces, such as that to which the cities of the + Italian States in the Middle Ages owed their vitality. There are no longer + any nobles in Issoudun. The Cottereaux, the Routiers, the Jacquerie, the + religious wars and the Revolution did away with the nobility. The town is + proud of that triumph. Issoudun has repeatedly refused to receive a + garrison, always on the plea of cheap provisions. She has thus lost a + means of intercourse with the age, and she has also lost the profits + arising from the presence of troops. Before 1756, Issoudun was one of the + most delightful of all the garrison towns. A judicial drama, which + occupied for a time the attention of France, the feud of a + lieutenant-general of the department with the Marquis de Chapt, whose son, + an officer of dragoons, was put to death,—justly perhaps, yet + traitorously, for some affair of gallantry,—deprived the town from + that time forth of a garrison. The sojourn of the forty-fourth + demi-brigade, imposed upon it during the civil war, was not of a nature to + reconcile the inhabitants to the race of warriors. + </p> + <p> + Bourges, whose population is yearly decreasing, is a victim of the same + social malady. Vitality is leaving these communities. Undoubtedly, the + government is to blame. The duty of an administration is to discover the + wounds upon the body-politic, and remedy them by sending men of energy to + the diseased regions, with power to change the state of things. Alas, so + far from that, it approves and encourages this ominous and fatal + tranquillity. Besides, it may be asked, how could the government send new + administrators and able magistrates? Who, of such men, is willing to bury + himself in the arrondissements, where the good to be done is without + glory? If, by chance, some ambitious stranger settles there, he soon falls + into the inertia of the region, and tunes himself to the dreadful key of + provincial life. Issoudun would have benumbed Napoleon. + </p> + <p> + As a result of this particular characteristic, the arrondissement of + Issoudun was governed, in 1822, by men who all belonged to Berry. The + administration of power became either a nullity or a farce,—except + in certain cases, naturally very rare, which by their manifest importance + compelled the authorities to act. The procureur du roi, Monsieur + Mouilleron, was cousin to the entire community, and his substitute + belonged to one of the families of the town. The judge of the court, + before attaining that dignity, was made famous by one of those provincial + sayings which put a cap and bells on a man’s head for the rest of his + life. As he ended his summing-up of all the facts of an indictment, he + looked at the accused and said: “My poor Pierre! the thing is as plain as + day; your head will be cut off. Let this be a lesson to you.” The + commissary of police, holding office since the Restoration, had relations + throughout the arrondissement. Moreover, not only was the influence of + religion null, but the curate himself was held in no esteem. + </p> + <p> + It was this bourgeoisie, radical, ignorant, and loving to annoy others, + which now related tales, more or less comic, about the relations of + Jean-Jacques Rouget with his servant-woman. The children of these people + went none the less to Sunday-school, and were as scrupulously prepared for + their communion: the schools were kept up all the same; mass was said; the + taxes were paid (the sole thing that Paris extracts of the provinces), and + the mayor passed resolutions. But all these acts of social existence were + done as mere routine, and thus the laxity of the local government suited + admirably with the moral and intellectual condition of the governed. The + events of the following history will show the effects of this state of + things, which is not as unusual in the provinces as might be supposed. + Many towns in France, more particularly in the South, are like Issoudun. + The condition to which the ascendency of the bourgeoisie has reduced that + local capital is one which will spread over all France, and even to Paris, + if the bourgeois continues to rule the exterior and interior policy of our + country. + </p> + <p> + Now, one word of topography. Issoudun stretches north and south, along a + hillside which rounds towards the highroad to Chateauroux. At the foot of + the hill, a canal, now called the “Riviere forcee” whose waters are taken + from the Theols, was constructed in former times, when the town was + flourishing, for the use of manufactories or to flood the moats of the + rampart. The “Riviere forcee” forms an artificial arm of a natural river, + the Tournemine, which unites with several other streams beyond the suburb + of Rome. These little threads of running water and the two rivers irrigate + a tract of wide-spreading meadow-land, enclosed on all sides by little + yellowish or white terraces dotted with black speckles; for such is the + aspect of the vineyards of Issoudun during seven months of the year. The + vine-growers cut the plants down yearly, leaving only an ugly stump, + without support, sheltered by a barrel. The traveller arriving from + Vierzon, Vatan, or Chateauroux, his eyes weary with monotonous plains, is + agreeably surprised by the meadows of Issoudun,—the oasis of this + part of Berry, which supplies the inhabitants with vegetables throughout a + region of thirty miles in circumference. Below the suburb of Rome, lies a + vast tract entirely covered with kitchen-gardens, and divided into two + sections, which bear the name of upper and lower Baltan. A long avenue of + poplars leads from the town across the meadows to an ancient convent named + Frapesle, whose English gardens, quite unique in that arrondissement, have + received the ambitious name of Tivoli. Loving couples whisper their vows + in its alleys of a Sunday. + </p> + <p> + Traces of the ancient grandeur of Issoudun of course reveal themselves to + the eyes of a careful observer; and the most suggestive are the divisions + of the town. The chateau, formerly almost a town itself with its walls and + moats, is a distinct quarter which can only be entered, even at the + present day, through its ancient gateways,—by means of three bridges + thrown across the arms of the two rivers,—and has all the appearance + of an ancient city. The ramparts show, in places, the formidable strata of + their foundations, on which houses have now sprung up. Above the chateau, + is the famous tower of Issoudun, once the citadel. The conqueror of the + city, which lay around these two fortified points, had still to gain + possession of the tower and the castle; and possession of the castle did + not insure that of the tower, or citadel. + </p> + <p> + The suburb of Saint-Paterne, which lies in the shape of a palette beyond + the tower, encroaching on the meadow-lands, is so considerable that in the + very earliest ages it must have been part of the city itself. This opinion + derived, in 1822, a sort of certainty from the then existence of the + charming church of Saint-Paterne, recently pulled down by the heir of the + individual who bought it of the nation. This church, one of the finest + specimens of the Romanesque that France possessed, actually perished + without a single drawing being made of the portal, which was in perfect + preservation. The only voice raised to save this monument of a past art + found no echo, either in the town itself or in the department. Though the + castle of Issoudun has the appearance of an old town, with its narrow + streets and its ancient mansions, the city itself, properly so called, + which was captured and burned at different epochs, notably during the + Fronde, when it was laid in ashes, has a modern air. Streets that are + spacious in comparison with those of other towns, and well-built houses + form a striking contrast to the aspect of the citadel,—a contrast + that has won for Issoudun, in certain geographies, the epithet of + “pretty.” + </p> + <p> + In a town thus constituted, without the least activity, even business + activity, without a taste for art, or for learned occupations, and where + everybody stayed in the little round of his or her own home, it was likely + to happen, and did happen under the Restoration in 1816 when the war was + over, that many of the young men of the place had no career before them, + and knew not where to turn for occupation until they could marry or + inherit the property of their fathers. Bored in their own homes, these + young fellows found little or no distraction elsewhere in the city; and + as, in the language of that region, “youth must shed its cuticle” they + sowed their wild oats at the expense of the town itself. It was difficult + to carry on such operations in open day, lest the perpetrators should be + recognized; for the cup of their misdemeanors once filled, they were + liable to be arraigned at their next peccadillo before the police courts; + and they therefore judiciously selected the night time for the performance + of their mischievous pranks. Thus it was that among the traces of divers + lost civilizations, a vestige of the spirit of drollery that characterized + the manners of antiquity burst into a final flame. + </p> + <p> + The young men amused themselves very much as Charles IX. amused himself + with his courtiers, or Henry V. of England and his companions, or as in + former times young men were wont to amuse themselves in the provinces. + Having once banded together for purposes of mutual help, to defend each + other and invent amusing tricks, there presently developed among them, + through the clash of ideas, that spirit of malicious mischief which + belongs to the period of youth and may even be observed among animals. The + confederation, in itself, gave them the mimic delights of the mystery of + an organized conspiracy. They called themselves the “Knights of Idleness.” + During the day these young scamps were youthful saints; they all pretended + to extreme quietness; and, in fact, they habitually slept late after the + nights on which they had been playing their malicious pranks. The + “Knights” began with mere commonplace tricks, such as unhooking and + changing signs, ringing bells, flinging casks left before one house into + the cellar of the next with a crash, rousing the occupants of the house by + a noise that seemed to their frightened ears like the explosion of a mine. + In Issoudun, as in many country towns, the cellar is entered by an opening + near the door of the house, covered with a wooden scuttle, secured by + strong iron hinges and a padlock. + </p> + <p> + In 1816, these modern Bad Boys had not altogether given up such tricks as + these, perpetrated in the provinces by all young lads and gamins. But in + 1817 the Order of Idleness acquired a Grand Master, and distinguished + itself by mischief which, up to 1823, spread something like terror in + Issoudun, or at least kept the artisans and the bourgeoisie perpetually + uneasy. + </p> + <p> + This leader was a certain Maxence Gilet, commonly called Max, whose + antecedents, no less than his youth and his vigor, predestined him for + such a part. Maxence Gilet was supposed by all Issoudun to be the natural + son of the sub-delegate Lousteau, that brother of Madame Hochon whose + gallantries had left memories behind them, and who, as we have seen, drew + down upon himself the hatred of old Doctor Rouget about the time of + Agathe’s birth. But the friendship which bound the two men together before + their quarrel was so close that, to use an expression of that region and + that period, “they willingly walked the same road.” Some people said that + Maxence was as likely to be the son of the doctor as of the sub-delegate; + but in fact he belonged to neither the one nor the other,—his father + being a charming dragoon officer in garrison at Bourges. Nevertheless, as + a result of their enmity, and very fortunately for the child, Rouget and + Lousteau never ceased to claim his paternity. + </p> + <p> + Max’s mother, the wife of a poor sabot-maker in the Rome suburb, was + possessed, for the perdition of her soul, of a surprising beauty, a + Trasteverine beauty, the only property which she transmitted to her son. + Madame Gilet, pregnant with Maxence in 1788, had long desired that + blessing, which the town attributed to the gallantries of the two friends,—probably + in the hope of setting them against each other. Gilet, an old drunkard + with a triple throat, treated his wife’s misconduct with a collusion that + is not uncommon among the lower classes. To make sure of protectors for + her son, Madame Gilet was careful not to enlighten his reputed fathers as + to his parentage. In Paris, she would have turned out a millionaire; at + Issoudun she lived sometimes at her ease, more often miserably, and, in + the long run, despised. Madame Hochon, Lousteau’s sister, paid sixty + francs a year for the lad’s schooling. This liberality, which Madame + Hochon was quite unable to practise on her own account because of her + husband’s stinginess, was naturally attributed to her brother, then living + at Sancerre. + </p> + <p> + When Doctor Rouget, who certainly was not lucky in sons, observed Max’s + beauty, he paid the board of the “young rogue,” as he called him, at the + seminary, up to the year 1805. As Lousteau died in 1800, and the doctor + apparently obeyed a feeling of vanity in paying the lad’s board until + 1805, the question of the paternity was left forever undecided. Maxence + Gilet, the butt of many jests, was soon forgotten,—and for this + reason: In 1806, a year after Doctor Rouget’s death, the lad, who seemed + to have been created for a venturesome life, and was moreover gifted with + remarkable vigor and agility, got into a series of scrapes which more or + less threatened his safety. He plotted with the grandsons of Monsieur + Hochon to worry the grocers of the city; he gathered fruit before the + owners could pick it, and made nothing of scaling walls. He had no equal + at bodily exercises, he played base to perfection, and could have outrun a + hare. With a keen eye worthy of Leather-stocking, he loved hunting + passionately. His time was passed in firing at a mark, instead of + studying; and he spent the money extracted from the old doctor in buying + powder and ball for a wretched pistol that old Gilet, the sabot-maker, had + given him. During the autumn of 1806, Maxence, then seventeen, committed + an involuntary murder, by frightening in the dusk a young woman who was + pregnant, and who came upon him suddenly while stealing fruit in her + garden. Threatened with the guillotine by Gilet, who doubtless wanted to + get rid of him, Max fled to Bourges, met a regiment then on its way to + Egypt, and enlisted. Nothing came of the death of the young woman. + </p> + <p> + A young fellow of Max’s character was sure to distinguish himself, and in + the course of three campaigns he did distinguish himself so highly that he + rose to be a captain, his lack of education helping him strenuously. In + Portugal, in 1809, he was left for dead in an English battery, into which + his company had penetrated without being able to hold it. Max, taken + prisoner by the English, was sent to the Spanish hulks at the island of + Cabrera, the most horrible of all stations for prisoners of war. His + friends begged that he might receive the cross of the Legion of honor and + the rank of major; but the Emperor was then in Austria, and he reserved + his favors for those who did brilliant deeds under his own eye: he did not + like officers or men who allowed themselves to be taken prisoner, and he + was, moreover, much dissatisfied with events in Portugal. Max was held at + Cabrera from 1810 to 1814.(1) During those years he became utterly + demoralized, for the hulks were like galleys, minus crime and infamy. At + the outset, to maintain his personal free will, and protect himself + against the corruption which made that horrible prison unworthy of a + civilized people, the handsome young captain killed in a duel (for duels + were fought on those hulks in a space scarcely six feet square) seven + bullies among his fellow-prisoners, thus ridding the island of their + tyranny to the great joy of the other victims. After this, Max reigned + supreme in his hulk, thanks to the wonderful ease and address with which + he handled weapons, to his bodily strength, and also to his extreme + cleverness. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (1) The cruelty of the Spaniards to the French prisoners at Cabrera + was very great. In the spring of 1811, H.M. brig “Minorca,” + Captain Wormeley, was sent by Admiral Sir Charles Cotton, then + commanding the Mediterranean fleet, to make a report of their + condition. As she neared the island, the wretched prisoners swam + out to meet her. They were reduced to skin and bone; many of them + were naked; and their miserable condition so moved the seamen of + the “Minorca” that they came aft to the quarter-deck, and asked + permission to subscribe three days’ rations for the relief of the + sufferers. Captain Wormeley carried away some of the prisoners, + and his report to Sir Charles Cotton, being sent to the Admiralty, + was made the basis of a remonstrance on the part of the British + government with Spain on the subject of its cruelties. Sir Charles + Cotton despatched Captain Wormeley a second time to Cabrera with a + good many head of live cattle and a large supply of other + provisions.—Tr. +</pre> + <p> + But he, in turn, committed arbitrary acts; there were those who curried + favor with him, and worked his will, and became his minions. In that + school of misery, where bitter minds dreamed only of vengeance, where the + sophistries hatched in such brains were laying up, inevitably, a store of + evil thoughts, Max became utterly demoralized. He listened to the opinions + of those who longed for fortune at any price, and did not shrink from the + results of criminal actions, provided they were done without discovery. + When peace was proclaimed, in April, 1814, he left the island, depraved + though still innocent. On his return to Issoudun he found his father and + mother dead. Like others who give way to their passions and make life, as + they call it, short and sweet, the Gilets had died in the almshouse in the + utmost poverty. Immediately after his return, the news of Napoleon’s + landing at Cannes spread through France; Max could do no better than go to + Paris and ask for his rank as major and for his cross. The marshal who was + at that time minister of war remembered the brave conduct of Captain Gilet + in Portugal. He put him in the Guard as captain, which gave him the grade + of major in the infantry; but he could not get him the cross. “The Emperor + says that you will know how to win it at the first chance,” said the + marshal. In fact, the Emperor did put the brave captain on his list for + decoration the evening after the fight at Fleurus, where Gilet + distinguished himself. + </p> + <p> + After the battle of Waterloo Max retreated to the Loire. At the time of + the disbandment, Marshal Feltre refused to recognize Max’s grade as major, + or his claim to the cross. The soldier of Napoleon returned to Issoudun in + a state of exasperation that may well be conceived; he declared that he + would not serve without either rank or cross. The war-office considered + these conditions presumptuous in a young man of twenty-five without a + name, who might, if they were granted, become a colonel at thirty. Max + accordingly sent in his resignation. The major—for among themselves + Bonapartists recognized the grades obtained in 1815—thus lost the + pittance called half-pay which was allowed to the officers of the army of + the Loire. But all Issoudun was roused at the sight of the brave young + fellow left with only twenty napoleons in his possession; and the mayor + gave him a place in his office with a salary of six hundred francs. Max + kept it a few months, then gave it up of his own accord, and was replaced + by a captain named Carpentier, who, like himself, had remained faithful to + Napoleon. + </p> + <p> + By this time Gilet had become grand master of the Knights of Idleness, and + was leading a life which lost him the good-will of the chief people of the + town; who, however, did not openly make the fact known to him, for he was + violent and much feared by all, even by the officers of the old army who, + like himself, had refused to serve under the Bourbons, and had come home + to plant their cabbages in Berry. The little affection felt for the + Bourbons among the natives of Issoudun is not surprising when we recall + the history which we have just given. In fact, considering its size and + lack of importance, the little place contained more Bonapartists than any + other town in France. These men became, as is well known, nearly all + Liberals. + </p> + <p> + In Issoudun and its neighborhood there were a dozen officers in Max’s + position. These men admired him and made him their leader,—with the + exception, however, of Carpentier, his successor, and a certain Monsieur + Mignonnet, ex-captain in the artillery of the Guard. Carpentier, a cavalry + officer risen from the ranks, had married into one of the best families in + the town,—the Borniche-Herau. Mignonnet, brought up at the Ecole + Polytechnique, had served in a corps which held itself superior to all + others. In the Imperial armies there were two shades of distinction among + the soldiers themselves. A majority of them felt a contempt for the + bourgeois, the “civilian,” fully equal to the contempt of nobles for their + serfs, or conquerors for the conquered. Such men did not always observe + the laws of honor in their dealings with civilians; nor did they much + blame those who rode rough-shod over the bourgeoisie. The others, and + particularly the artillery, perhaps because of its republicanism, never + adopted the doctrine of a military France and a civil France, the tendency + of which was nothing less than to make two nations. So, although Major + Potel and Captain Renard, two officers living in the Rome suburb, were + friends to Maxence Gilet “through thick and thin,” Major Mignonnet and + Captain Carpentier took sides with the bourgeoisie, and thought his + conduct unworthy of a man of honor. + </p> + <p> + Major Mignonnet, a lean little man, full of dignity, busied himself with + the problems which the steam-engine requires us to solve, and lived in a + modest way, taking his social intercourse with Monsieur and Madame + Carpentier. His gentle manners and ways, and his scientific occupations + won him the respect of the whole town; and it was frequently said of him + and of Captain Carpentier that they were “quite another thing” from Major + Potel and Captain Renard, Maxence, and other frequenters of the cafe + Militaire, who retained the soldierly manners and the defective morals of + the Empire. + </p> + <p> + At the time when Madame Bridau returned to Issoudun, Max was excluded from + the society of the place. He showed, moreover, proper self-respect in + never presenting himself at the club, and in never complaining of the + severe reprobation that was shown him; although he was the handsomest, the + most elegant, and the best dressed man in the place, spent a great deal of + money, and kept a horse,—a thing as amazing at Issoudun as the horse + of Lord Byron at Venice. We are now to see how it was that Maxence, poor + and without apparent means, was able to become the dandy of the town. The + shameful conduct which earned him the contempt of all scrupulous or + religious persons was connected with the interests which brought Agathe + and Joseph to Issoudun. + </p> + <p> + Judging by the audacity of his bearing, and the expression of his face, + Max cared little for public opinion; he expected, no doubt, to take his + revenge some day, and to lord it over those who now condemned him. + Moreover, if the bourgeoisie of Issoudun thought ill of him, the + admiration he excited among the common people counterbalanced their + opinion; his courage, his dashing appearance, his decision of character, + could not fail to please the masses, to whom his degradations were, for + the most part, unknown, and indeed the bourgeoisie themselves scarcely + suspected its extent. Max played a role at Issoudun which was something + like that of the blacksmith in the “Fair Maid of Perth”; he was the + champion of Bonapartism and the Opposition; they counted upon him as the + burghers of Perth counted upon Smith on great occasions. A single incident + will put this hero and victim of the Hundred-Days into clear relief. + </p> + <p> + In 1819, a battalion commanded by royalist officers, young men just out of + the Maison Rouge, passed through Issoudun on its way to go into garrison + at Bourges. Not knowing what to do with themselves in so constitutional a + place as Issoudun, these young gentlemen went to while away the time at + the cafe Militaire. In every provincial town there is a military cafe. + That of Issoudun, built on the place d’Armes at an angle of the rampart, + and kept by the widow of an officer, was naturally the rendezvous of the + Bonapartists, chiefly officers on half-pay, and others who shared Max’s + opinions, to whom the politics of the town allowed free expression of + their idolatry for the Emperor. Every year, dating from 1816, a banquet + was given in Issoudun to commemorate the anniversary of his coronation. + The three royalists who first entered asked for the newspapers, among + others, for the “Quotidienne” and the “Drapeau Blanc.” The politics of + Issoudun, especially those of the cafe Militaire, did not allow of such + royalist journals. The establishment had none but the “Commerce,”—a + name which the “Constitutionel” was compelled to adopt for several years + after it was suppressed by the government. But as, in its first issue + under the new name, the leading article began with these words, “Commerce + is essentially constitutional,” people continued to call it the + “Constitutionel,” the subscribers all understanding the sly play of words + which begged them to pay no attention to the label, as the wine would be + the same. + </p> + <p> + The fat landlady replied from her seat at the desk that she did not take + those papers. “What papers do you take then?” asked one of the officers, a + captain. The waiter, a little fellow in a blue cloth jacket, with an apron + of coarse linen tied over it, brought the “Commerce.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that your paper? Have you no other?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the waiter, “that’s the only one.” + </p> + <p> + The captain tore it up, flung the pieces on the floor, and spat upon them, + calling out,— + </p> + <p> + “Bring dominos!” + </p> + <p> + In ten minutes the news of the insult offered to the Constitution + Opposition and the Liberal party, in the supersacred person of its revered + journal, which attacked priests with courage and the wit we all remember, + spread throughout the town and into the houses like light itself; it was + told and repeated from place to place. One phrase was on everybody’s lips,— + </p> + <p> + “Let us tell Max!” + </p> + <p> + Max soon heard of it. The royalist officers were still at their game of + dominos when that hero entered the cafe, accompanied by Major Potel and + Captain Renard, and followed by at least thirty young men, curious to see + the end of the affair, most of whom remained outside in the street. The + room was soon full. + </p> + <p> + “Waiter, <i>my</i> newspaper,” said Max, in a quiet voice. + </p> + <p> + Then a little comedy was played. The fat hostess, with a timid and + conciliatory air, said, “Captain, I have lent it!” + </p> + <p> + “Send for it,” cried one of Max’s friends. + </p> + <p> + “Can’t you do without it?” said the waiter; “we have not got it.” + </p> + <p> + The young royalists were laughing and casting sidelong glances at the + new-comers. + </p> + <p> + “They have torn it up!” cried a youth of the town, looking at the feet of + the young royalist captain. + </p> + <p> + “Who has dared to destroy that paper?” demanded Max, in a thundering + voice, his eyes flashing as he rose with his arms crossed. + </p> + <p> + “And we spat upon it,” replied the three young officers, also rising, and + looking at Max. + </p> + <p> + “You have insulted the whole town!” said Max, turning livid. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what of that?” asked the youngest officer. + </p> + <p> + With a dexterity, quickness, and audacity which the young men did not + foresee, Max slapped the face of the officer nearest to him, saying,— + </p> + <p> + “Do you understand French?” + </p> + <p> + They fought near by, in the allee de Frapesle, three against three; for + Potel and Renard would not allow Max to deal with the officers alone. Max + killed his man. Major Potel wounded his so severely, that the unfortunate + young man, the son of a good family, died in the hospital the next day. As + for the third, he got off with a sword cut, after wounding his adversary, + Captain Renard. The battalion left for Bourges that night. This affair, + which was noised throughout Berry, set Max up definitely as a hero. + </p> + <p> + The Knights of Idleness, who were all young, the eldest not more than + twenty-five years old, admired Maxence. Some among them, far from sharing + the prudery and strict notions of their families concerning his conduct, + envied his present position and thought him fortunate. Under such a + leader, the Order did great things. After the month of May, 1817, never a + week passed that the town was not thrown into an uproar by some new piece + of mischief. Max, as a matter of honor, imposed certain conditions upon + the Knights. Statutes were drawn up. These young demons grew as vigilant + as the pupils of Amoros,—bold as hawks, agile at all exercises, + clever and strong as criminals. They trained themselves in climbing roofs, + scaling houses, jumping and walking noiselessly, mixing mortar, and + walling up doors. They collected an arsenal of ropes, ladders, tools, and + disguises. After a time the Knights of Idleness attained to the beau-ideal + of malicious mischief, not only as to the accomplishment but, still more, + in the invention of their pranks. They came at last to possess the genius + for evil that Panurge so much delighted in; which provokes laughter, and + covers its victims with such ridicule that they dare not complain. + Naturally, these sons of good families of Issoudun possessed and obtained + information in their households, which gave them the ways and means for + the perpetration of their outrages. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes the young devils incarnate lay in ambush along the Grand’rue or + the Basse rue, two streets which are, as it were, the arteries of the + town, into which many little side streets open. Crouching, with their + heads to the wind, in the angles of the wall and at the corners of the + streets, at the hour when all the households were hushed in their first + sleep, they called to each other in tones of terror from ambush to ambush + along the whole length of the town: “What’s the matter?” “What is it?” + till the repeated cries woke up the citizens, who appeared in their shirts + and cotton night-caps, with lights in their hands, asking questions of one + another, holding the strangest colloquies, and exhibiting the queerest + faces. + </p> + <p> + A certain poor bookbinder, who was very old, believed in hobgoblins. Like + most provincial artisans, he worked in a small basement shop. The Knights, + disguised as devils, invaded the place in the middle of the night, put him + into his own cutting-press, and left him shrieking to himself like the + souls in hell. The poor man roused the neighbors, to whom he related the + apparitions of Lucifer; and as they had no means of undeceiving him, he + was driven nearly insane. + </p> + <p> + In the middle of a severe winter, the Knights took down the chimney of the + collector of taxes, and built it up again in one night apparently as it + was before, without making the slightest noise, or leaving the least trace + of their work. But they so arranged the inside of the chimney as to send + all the smoke into the house. The collector suffered for two months before + he found out why his chimney, which had always drawn so well, and of which + he had often boasted, played him such tricks; he was then obliged to build + a new one. + </p> + <p> + At another time, they put three trusses of hay dusted with brimstone, and + a quantity of oiled paper down the chimney of a pious old woman who was a + friend of Madame Hochon. In the morning, when she came to light her fire, + the poor creature, who was very gentle and kindly, imagined she had + started a volcano. The fire-engines came, the whole population rushed to + her assistance. Several Knights were among the firemen, and they deluged + the old woman’s house, till they had frightened her with a flood, as much + as they had terrified her with the fire. She was made ill with fear. + </p> + <p> + When they wished to make some one spend the night under arms and in mortal + terror, they wrote an anonymous letter telling him that he was about to be + robbed; then they stole softly, one by one, round the walls of his house, + or under his windows, whistling as if to call each other. + </p> + <p> + One of their famous performances, which long amused the town, where in + fact it is still related, was to write a letter to all the heirs of a + miserly old lady who was likely to leave a large property, announcing her + death, and requesting them to be promptly on hand when the seals were + affixed. Eighty persons arrived from Vatan, Saint-Florent, Vierzon and the + neighboring country, all in deep mourning,—widows with sons, + children with their fathers, some in carrioles, some in wicker gigs, + others in dilapidated carts. Imagine the scene between the old woman’s + servants and the first arrivals! and the consultations among the notaries! + It created a sort of riot in Issoudun. + </p> + <p> + At last, one day the sub-prefect woke up to a sense that this state of + things was all the more intolerable because it seemed impossible to find + out who was at the bottom of it. Suspicion fell on several young men; but + as the National Guard was a mere name in Issoudun, and there was no + garrison, and the lieutenant of police had only eight gendarmes under him, + so that there were no patrols, it was impossible to get any proof against + them. The sub-prefect was immediately posted in the “order of the night,” + and considered thenceforth fair game. This functionary made a practice of + breakfasting on two fresh eggs. He kept chickens in his yard, and added to + his mania for eating fresh eggs that of boiling them himself. Neither his + wife nor his servant, in fact no one, according to him, knew how to boil + an egg properly; he did it watch in hand, and boasted that he carried off + the palm of egg-boiling from all the world. For two years he had boiled + his eggs with a success which earned him many witticisms. But now, every + night for a whole month, the eggs were taken from his hen-house, and + hard-boiled eggs substituted. The sub-prefect was at his wits’ end, and + lost his reputation as the “sous-prefet a l’oeuf.” Finally he was forced + to breakfast on other things. Yet he never suspected the Knights of + Idleness, whose trick had been cautiously played. After this, Max managed + to grease the sub-prefect’s stoves every night with an oil which sent + forth so fetid a smell that it was impossible for any one to stay in the + house. Even that was not enough; his wife, going to mass one morning, + found her shawl glued together on the inside with some tenacious + substance, so that she was obliged to go without it. The sub-prefect + finally asked for another appointment. The cowardly submissiveness of this + officer had much to do with firmly establishing the weird and comic + authority of the Knights of Idleness. + </p> + <p> + Beyond the rue des Minimes and the place Misere, a section of a quarter + was at that time enclosed between an arm of the “Riviere forcee” on the + lower side and the ramparts on the other, beginning at the place d’Armes + and going as far as the pottery market. This irregular square is filled + with poor-looking houses crowded one against the other, and divided here + and there by streets so narrow that two persons cannot walk abreast. This + section of the town, a sort of cour des Miracles, was occupied by poor + people or persons working at trades that were little remunerative,—a + population living in hovels, and buildings called picturesquely by the + familiar term of “blind houses.” From the earliest ages this has no doubt + been an accursed quarter, the haunt of evil-doers; in fact one + thoroughfare is named “the street of the Executioner.” For more than five + centuries it has been customary for the executioner to have a red door at + the entrance of his house. The assistant of the executioner of Chateauroux + still lives there,—if we are to believe public rumor, for the + townspeople never see him: the vine-dressers alone maintain an intercourse + with this mysterious being, who inherits from his predecessors the gift of + curing wounds and fractures. In the days when Issoudun assumed the airs of + a capital city the women of the town made this section of it the scene of + their wanderings. Here came the second-hand sellers of things that look as + if they never could find a purchaser, old-clothes dealers whose wares + infected the air; in short, it was the rendezvous of that apocryphal + population which is to be found in nearly all such portions of a city, + where two or three Jews have gained an ascendency. + </p> + <p> + At the corner of one of these gloomy streets in the livelier half of the + quarter, there existed from 1815 to 1823, and perhaps later, a + public-house kept by a woman commonly called Mere Cognette. The house + itself was tolerably well built, in courses of white stone, with the + intermediary spaces filled in with ashlar and cement, one storey high with + an attic above. Over the door was an enormous branch of pine, looking as + though it were cast in Florentine bronze. As if this symbol were not + explanatory enough, the eye was arrested by the blue of a poster which was + pasted over the doorway, and on which appeared, above the words “Good Beer + of Mars,” the picture of a soldier pouring out, in the direction of a very + decolletee woman, a jet of foam which spurted in an arched line from the + pitcher to the glass which she was holding towards him; the whole of a + color to make Delacroix swoon. + </p> + <p> + The ground-floor was occupied by an immense hall serving both as kitchen + and dining-room, from the beams of which hung, suspended by huge nails, + the provisions needed for the custom of such a house. Behind this hall a + winding staircase led to the upper storey; at the foot of the staircase a + door led into a low, long room lighted from one of those little provincial + courts, so narrow, dark, and sunken between tall houses, as to seem like + the flue of a chimney. Hidden by a shed, and concealed from all eyes by + walls, this low room was the place where the Bad Boys of Issoudun held + their plenary court. Ostensibly, Pere Cognet boarded and lodged the + country-people on market-days; secretly, he was landlord to the Knights of + Idleness. This man, who was formerly a groom in a rich household, had + ended by marrying La Cognette, a cook in a good family. The suburb of Rome + still continues, like Italy and Poland, to follow the Latin custom of + putting a feminine termination to the husband’s name and giving it to the + wife. + </p> + <p> + By uniting their savings Pere Cognet and his spouse had managed to buy + their present house. La Cognette, a woman of forty, tall and plump, with + the nose of a Roxelane, a swarthy skin, jet-black hair, brown eyes that + were round and lively, and a general air of mirth and intelligence, was + selected by Maxence Gilet, on account of her character and her talent for + cookery, as the Leonarde of the Order. Pere Cognet might be about + fifty-six years old; he was thick-set, very much under his wife’s rule, + and, according to a witticism which she was fond of repeating, he only saw + things with a good eye—for he was blind of the other. In the course + of seven years, that is, from 1816 to 1823, neither wife nor husband had + betrayed what went on nightly at their house, or who they were that shared + in the plot; they felt the liveliest regard for the Knights; their + devotion was absolute. But this may seem less creditable if we remember + that self-interest was the security of their affection and their silence. + No matter at what hour of the night the Knights dropped in upon the + tavern, the moment they knocked in a certain way Pere Cognet, recognizing + the signal, got up, lit the fire and the candles, opened the door, and + went to the cellar for a particular wine that was laid in expressly for + the Order; while La Cognette cooked an excellent supper, eaten either + before or after the expeditions, which were usually planned the previous + evening or in the course of the preceding day. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <p> + While Joseph and Madame Bridau were journeying from Orleans to Issoudun, + the Knights of Idleness perpetrated one of their best tricks. An old + Spaniard, a former prisoner of war, who after the peace had remained in + the neighborhood, where he did a small business in grain, came early one + morning to market, leaving his empty cart at the foot of the tower of + Issoudun. Maxence, who arrived at a rendezvous of the Knights, appointed + on that occasion at the foot of the tower, was soon assailed with the + whispered question, “What are we to do to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “Here’s Pere Fario’s cart,” he answered. “I nearly cracked my shins over + it. Let us get it up on the embankment of the tower in the first place, + and we’ll make up our minds afterwards.” + </p> + <p> + When Richard Coeur-de-Lion built the tower of Issoudun he raised it, as we + have said, on the ruins of the basilica, which itself stood above the + Roman temple and the Celtic Dun. These ruins, each of which represents a + period of several centuries, form a mound big with the monuments of three + distinct ages. The tower is, therefore, the apex of a cone, from which the + descent is equally steep on all sides, and which is only approached by a + series of steps. To give in a few words an idea of the height of this + tower, we may compare it to the obelisk of Luxor on its pedestal. The + pedestal of the tower of Issoudun, which hid within its breast such + archaeological treasures, was eighty feet high on the side towards the + town. In an hour the cart was taken off its wheels and hoisted, piece by + piece, to the top of the embankment at the foot of the tower itself,—a + work that was somewhat like that of the soldiers who carried the artillery + over the pass of the Grand Saint-Bernard. The cart was then remounted on + its wheels, and the Knights, by this time hungry and thirsty, returned to + Mere Cognette’s, where they were soon seated round the table in the low + room, laughing at the grimaces Fario would make when he came after his + barrow in the morning. + </p> + <p> + The Knights, naturally, did not play such capers every night. The genius + of Sganarelle, Mascarille, and Scapin combined would not have sufficed to + invent three hundred and sixty-five pieces of mischief a year. In the + first place, circumstances were not always propitious: sometimes the moon + shone clear, or the last prank had greatly irritated their betters; then + one or another of their number refused to share in some proposed outrage + because a relation was involved. But if the scamps were not at Mere + Cognette’s every night, they always met during the day, enjoying together + the legitimate pleasures of hunting, or the autumn vintages and the winter + skating. Among this assemblage of twenty youths, all of them at war with + the social somnolence of the place, there are some who were more closely + allied than others to Max, and who made him their idol. A character like + his often fascinates other youths. The two grandsons of Madame Hochon—Francois + Hochon and Baruch Borniche—were his henchmen. These young fellows, + accepting the general opinion of the left-handed parentage of Lousteau, + looked upon Max as their cousin. Max, moreover, was liberal in lending + them money for their pleasures, which their grandfather Hochon refused; he + took them hunting, let them see life, and exercised a much greater + influence over them than their own family. They were both orphans, and + were kept, although each had attained his majority, under the guardianship + of Monsieur Hochon, for reasons which will be explained when Monsieur + Hochon himself comes upon the scene. + </p> + <p> + At this particular moment Francois and Baruch (we will call them by their + Christian names for the sake of clearness) were sitting, one on each side + of Max, at the middle of a table that was rather ill lighted by the + fuliginous gleams of four tallow candles of eight to the pound. A dozen to + fifteen bottles of various wines had just been drunk, for only eleven of + the Knights were present. Baruch—whose name indicates pretty clearly + that Calvinism still kept some hold on Issoudun—said to Max, as the + wine was beginning to unloose all tongues,— + </p> + <p> + “You are threatened in your stronghold.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by that?” asked Max. + </p> + <p> + “Why, my grandmother has had a letter from Madame Bridau, who is her + goddaughter, saying that she and her son are coming here. My grandmother + has been getting two rooms ready for them.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s that to me?” said Max, taking up his glass and swallowing the + contents at a gulp with a comic gesture. + </p> + <p> + Max was then thirty-four years old. A candle standing near him threw a + gleam upon his soldierly face, lit up his brow, and brought out admirably + his clear skin, his ardent eyes, his black and slightly curling hair, + which had the brilliancy of jet. The hair grew vigorously upward from the + forehead and temples, sharply defining those five black tongues which our + ancestors used to call the “five points.” Notwithstanding this abrupt + contrast of black and white, Max’s face was very sweet, owing its charm to + an outline like that which Raphael gave to the faces of his Madonnas, and + to a well-cut mouth whose lips smiled graciously, giving an expression of + countenance which Max had made distinctively his own. The rich coloring + which blooms on a Berrichon cheek added still further to his look of + kindly good-humor. When he laughed heartily, he showed thirty-two teeth + worthy of the mouth of a pretty woman. In height about five feet six + inches, the young man was admirably well-proportioned,—neither too + stout nor yet too thin. His hands, carefully kept, were white and rather + handsome; but his feet recalled the suburb and the foot-soldier of the + Empire. Max would certainly have made a good general of division; he had + shoulders that were worth a fortune to a marshal of France, and a breast + broad enough to wear all the orders of Europe. Every movement betrayed + intelligence; born with grace and charm, like nearly all the children of + love, the noble blood of his real father came out in him. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you know, Max,” cried the son of a former surgeon-major named + Goddet—now the best doctor in the town—from the other end of + the table, “that Madame Hochon’s goddaughter is the sister of Rouget? If + she is coming here with her son, no doubt she means to make sure of + getting the property when he dies, and then—good-by to your + harvest!” + </p> + <p> + Max frowned. Then, with a look which ran from one face to another all + round the table, he watched the effect of this announcement on the minds + of those present, and again replied,— + </p> + <p> + “What’s that to me?” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Francois, “I should think that if old Rouget revoked his will,—in + case he has made one in favor of the Rabouilleuse—” + </p> + <p> + Here Max cut short his henchman’s speech. “I’ve stopped the mouths of + people who have dared to meddle with you, my dear Francois,” he said; “and + this is the way you pay your debts? You use a contemptuous nickname in + speaking of a woman to whom I am known to be attached.” + </p> + <p> + Max had never before said as much as this about his relations with the + person to whom Francois had just applied a name under which she was known + at Issoudun. The late prisoner at Cabrera—the major of the + grenadiers of the Guard—knew enough of what honor was to judge + rightly as to the causes of the disesteem in which society held him. He + had therefore never allowed any one, no matter who, to speak to him on the + subject of Mademoiselle Flore Brazier, the servant-mistress of + Jean-Jacques Rouget, so energetically termed a “slut” by the respectable + Madame Hochon. Everybody knew it was too ticklish a subject with Max, ever + to speak of it unless he began it; and hitherto he had never begun it. To + risk his anger or irritate him was altogether too dangerous; so that even + his best friends had never joked him about the Rabouilleuse. When they + talked of his liaison with the girl before Major Potel and Captain Renard, + with whom he lived on intimate terms, Potel would reply,— + </p> + <p> + “If he is the natural brother of Jean-Jacques Rouget where else would you + have him live?” + </p> + <p> + “Besides, after all,” added Captain Renard, “the girl is a worthless + piece, and if Max does live with her where’s the harm?” + </p> + <p> + After this merited snub, Francois could not at once catch up the thread of + his ideas; but he was still less able to do so when Max said to him, + gently,— + </p> + <p> + “Go on.” + </p> + <p> + “Faith, no!” cried Francois. + </p> + <p> + “You needn’t get angry, Max,” said young Goddet; “didn’t we agree to talk + freely to each other at Mere Cognette’s? Shouldn’t we all be mortal + enemies if we remembered outside what is said, or thought, or done here? + All the town calls Flore Brazier the Rabouilleuse; and if Francois did + happen to let the nickname slip out, is that a crime against the Order of + Idleness?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Max, “but against our personal friendship. However, I thought + better of it; I recollected we were in session, and that was why I said, + ‘Go on.’” + </p> + <p> + A deep silence followed. The pause became so embarrassing for the whole + company that Max broke it by exclaiming:— + </p> + <p> + “I’ll go on for him,” (sensation) “—for all of you,” (amazement) “—and + tell you what you are thinking” (profound sensation). “You think that + Flore, the Rabouilleuse, La Brazier, the housekeeper of Pere Rouget,—for + they call him so, that old bachelor, who can never have any children!—you + think, I say, that that woman supplies all my wants ever since I came back + to Issoudun. If I am able to throw three hundred francs a month to the + dogs, and treat you to suppers,—as I do to-night,—and lend + money to all of you, you think I get the gold out of Mademoiselle Flore + Brazier’s purse? Well, yes” (profound sensation). “Yes, ten thousand times + yes! Yes, Mademoiselle Brazier is aiming straight for the old man’s + property.” + </p> + <p> + “She gets it from father to son,” observed Goddet, in his corner. + </p> + <p> + “You think,” continued Max, smiling at Goddet’s speech, “that I intend to + marry Flore when Pere Rouget dies, and so this sister and her son, of whom + I hear to-night for the first time, will endanger my future?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s just it,” cried Francois. + </p> + <p> + “That is what every one thinks who is sitting round this table,” said + Baruch. + </p> + <p> + “Well, don’t be uneasy, friends,” answered Max. “Forewarned is forearmed! + Now then, I address the Knights of Idleness. If, to get rid of these + Parisians I need the help of the Order, will you lend me a hand? Oh! + within the limits we have marked out for our fooleries,” he added hastily, + perceiving a general hesitation. “Do you suppose I want to kill them,—poison + them? Thank God I’m not an idiot. Besides, if the Bridaus succeed, and + Flore has nothing but what she stands in, I should be satisfied; do you + understand that? I love her enough to prefer her to Mademoiselle Fichet,—if + Mademoiselle Fichet would have me.” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle Fichet was the richest heiress in Issoudun, and the hand of + the daughter counted for much in the reported passion of the younger + Goddet for the mother. Frankness of speech is a pearl of such price that + all the Knights rose to their feet as one man. + </p> + <p> + “You are a fine fellow, Max!” + </p> + <p> + “Well said, Max; we’ll stand by you!” + </p> + <p> + “A fig for the Bridaus!” + </p> + <p> + “We’ll bridle them!” + </p> + <p> + “After all, it is only three swains to a shepherdess.” + </p> + <p> + “The deuce! Pere Lousteau loved Madame Rouget; isn’t it better to love a + housekeeper who is not yoked?” + </p> + <p> + “If the defunct Rouget was Max’s father, the affair is in the family.” + </p> + <p> + “Liberty of opinion now-a-days!” + </p> + <p> + “Hurrah for Max!” + </p> + <p> + “Down with all hypocrites!” + </p> + <p> + “Here’s a health to the beautiful Flore!” + </p> + <p> + Such were the eleven responses, acclamations, and toasts shouted forth by + the Knights of Idleness, and characteristic, we may remark, of their + excessively relaxed morality. It is now easy to see what interest Max had + in becoming their grand master. By leading the young men of the best + families in their follies and amusements, and by doing them services, he + meant to create a support for himself when the day for recovering his + position came. He rose gracefully and waved his glass of claret, while all + the others waited eagerly for the coming allocution. + </p> + <p> + “As a mark of the ill-will I bear you, I wish you all a mistress who is + equal to the beautiful Flore! As to this irruption of relations, I don’t + feel any present uneasiness; and as to the future, we’ll see what comes—” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t let us forget Fario’s cart!” + </p> + <p> + “Hang it! that’s safe enough!” said Goddet. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I’ll engage to settle that business,” cried Max. “Be in the + market-place early, all of you, and let me know when the old fellow goes + for his cart.” + </p> + <p> + It was striking half-past three in the morning as the Knights slipped out + in silence to go to their homes; gliding close to the walls of the houses + without making the least noise, shod as they were in list shoes. Max + slowly returned to the place Saint-Jean, situated in the upper part of the + town, between the port Saint-Jean and the port Vilatte, the quarter of the + rich bourgeoisie. Maxence Gilet had concealed his fears, but the news had + struck home. His experience on the hulks at Cabrera had taught him a + dissimulation as deep and thorough as his corruption. First, and above all + else, the forty thousand francs a year from landed property which old + Rouget owned was, let it be clearly understood, the constituent element of + Max’s passion for Flore Brazier. By his present bearing it is easy to see + how much confidence the woman had given him in the financial future she + expected to obtain through the infatuation of the old bachelor. + Nevertheless, the news of the arrival of the legitimate heirs was of a + nature to shake Max’s faith in Flore’s influence. Rouget’s savings, + accumulating during the last seventeen years, still stood in his own name; + and even if the will, which Flore declared had long been made in her + favor, were revoked, these savings at least might be secured by putting + them in the name of Mademoiselle Brazier. + </p> + <p> + “That fool of a girl never told me, in all these seven years, a word about + the sister and nephews!” cried Max, turning from the rue de la Marmouse + into the rue l’Avenier. “Seven hundred and fifty thousand francs placed + with different notaries at Bourges, and Vierzon, and Chateauroux, can’t be + turned into money and put into the Funds in a week, without everybody + knowing it in this gossiping place! The most important thing is to get rid + of these relations; as soon as they are driven away we ought to make haste + to secure the property. I must think it over.” + </p> + <p> + Max was tired. By the help of a pass-key, he let himself into Pere + Rouget’s house, and went to bed without making any noise, saying to + himself,— + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow, my thoughts will be clear.” + </p> + <p> + It is now necessary to relate where the sultana of the place Saint-Jean + picked up the nickname of “Rabouilleuse,” and how she came to be the + quasi-mistress of Jean-Jacques Rouget’s home. + </p> + <p> + As old Doctor Rouget, the father of Jean-Jacques and Madame Bridau, + advanced in years, he began to perceive the nonentity of his son; he then + treated him harshly, trying to break him into a routine that might serve + in place of intelligence. He thus, though unconsciously, prepared him to + submit to the yoke of the first tyranny that threw its halter over his + head. + </p> + <p> + Coming home one day from his professional round, the malignant and vicious + old man came across a bewitching little girl at the edge of some fields + that lay along the avenue de Tivoli. Hearing the horse, the child sprang + up from the bottom of one of the many brooks which are to be seen from the + heights of Issoudun, threading the meadows like ribbons of silver on a + green robe. Naiad-like, she rose suddenly on the doctor’s vision, showing + the loveliest virgin head that painters ever dreamed of. Old Rouget, who + knew the whole country-side, did not know this miracle of beauty. The + child, who was half naked, wore a forlorn little petticoat of coarse + woollen stuff, woven in alternate strips of brown and white, full of holes + and very ragged. A sheet of rough writing paper, tied on by a shred of + osier, served her for a hat. Beneath this paper—covered with + pot-hooks and round O’s, from which it derived the name of “schoolpaper”—the + loveliest mass of blonde hair that ever a daughter of Eve could have + desired, was twisted up, and held in place by a species of comb made to + comb out the tails of horses. Her pretty tanned bosom, and her neck, + scarcely covered by a ragged fichu which was once a Madres handkerchief, + showed edges of the white skin below the exposed and sun-burned parts. One + end of her petticoat was drawn between the legs and fastened with a huge + pin in front, giving that garment the look of a pair of bathing drawers. + The feet and the legs, which could be seen through the clear water in + which she stood, attracted the eye by a delicacy which was worthy of a + sculptor of the middle ages. The charming limbs exposed to the sun had a + ruddy tone that was not without beauty of its own. The neck and bosom were + worthy of being wrapped in silks and cashmeres; and the nymph had blue + eyes fringed with long lashes, whose glance might have made a painter or a + poet fall upon his knees. The doctor, enough of an anatomist to trace the + exquisite figure, recognized the loss it would be to art if the lines of + such a model were destroyed by the hard toil of the fields. + </p> + <p> + “Where do you come from, little girl? I have never seen you before,” said + the old doctor, then sixty-two years of age. This scene took place in the + month of September, 1799. + </p> + <p> + “I belong in Vatan,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + Hearing Rouget’s voice, an ill-looking man, standing at some distance in + the deeper waters of the brook, raised his head. “What are you about, + Flore?” he said, “While you are talking instead of catching, the creatures + will get away.” + </p> + <p> + “Why have you come here from Vatan?” continued the doctor, paying no heed + to the interruption. + </p> + <p> + “I am catching crabs for my uncle Brazier here.” + </p> + <p> + “Rabouiller” is a Berrichon word which admirably describes the thing it is + intended to express; namely, the action of troubling the water of a brook, + making it boil and bubble with a branch whose end-shoots spread out like a + racket. The crabs, frightened by this operation, which they do not + understand, come hastily to the surface, and in their flurry rush into the + net the fisher has laid for them at a little distance. Flore Brazier held + her “rabouilloir” in her hand with the natural grace of childlike + innocence. + </p> + <p> + “Has your uncle got permission to hunt crabs?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey! are not we all under a Republic that is one and indivisible?” cried + the uncle from his station. + </p> + <p> + “We are under a Directory,” said the doctor, “and I know of no law which + allows a man to come from Vatan and fish in the territory of Issoudun”; + then he said to Flore, “Have you got a mother, little one!” + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur; and my father is in the asylum at Bourges. He went mad from + a sun-stroke he got in the fields.” + </p> + <p> + “How much do you earn?” + </p> + <p> + “Five sous a day while the season lasts; I catch ‘em as far as the + Braisne. In harvest time, I glean; in winter, I spin.” + </p> + <p> + “You are about twelve years old?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you want to come with me? You shall be well fed and well dressed, and + have some pretty shoes.” + </p> + <p> + “No, my niece will stay with me; I am responsible to God and man for her,” + said Uncle Brazier who had come up to them. “I am her guardian, d’ye see?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor kept his countenance and checked a smile which might have + escaped most people at the aspect of the man. The guardian wore a + peasant’s hat, rotted by sun and rain, eaten like the leaves of a cabbage + that has harbored several caterpillars, and mended, here and there, with + white thread. Beneath the hat was a dark and sunken face, in which the + mouth, nose, and eyes, seemed four black spots. His forlorn jacket was a + bit of patchwork, and his trousers were of crash towelling. + </p> + <p> + “I am Doctor Rouget,” said that individual; “and as you are the guardian + of the child, bring her to my house, in the place Saint-Jean. It will not + be a bad day’s work for you; nor for her, either.” + </p> + <p> + Without waiting for an answer, and sure that Uncle Brazier would soon + appear with his pretty “rabouilleuse,” Doctor Rouget set spurs to his + horse and returned to Issoudun. He had hardly sat down to dinner, before + his cook announced the arrival of the citoyen and citoyenne Brazier. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down,” said the doctor to the uncle and niece. + </p> + <p> + Flore and her guardian, still barefooted, looked round the doctor’s + dining-room with wondering eyes; never having seen its like before. + </p> + <p> + The house, which Rouget inherited from the Descoings estate, stands in the + middle of the place Saint-Jean, a so-called square, very long and very + narrow, planted with a few sickly lindens. The houses in this part of town + are better built than elsewhere, and that of the Descoings’s was one of + the finest. It stands opposite to the house of Monsieur Hochon, and has + three windows in front on the first storey, and a porte-cochere on the + ground-floor which gives entrance to a courtyard, beyond which lies the + garden. Under the archway of the porte-cochere is the door of a large hall + lighted by two windows on the street. The kitchen is behind this hall, + part of the space being used for a staircase which leads to the upper + floor and to the attic above that. Beyond the kitchen is a wood-shed and + wash-house, a stable for two horses and a coach-house, over which are some + little lofts for the storage of oats, hay, and straw, where, at that time, + the doctor’s servant slept. + </p> + <p> + The hall which the little peasant and her uncle admired with such wonder + is decorated with wooden carvings of the time of Louis XV., painted gray, + and a handsome marble chimney-piece, over which Flore beheld herself in a + large mirror without any upper division and with a carved and gilded + frame. On the panelled walls of the room, from space to space, hung + several pictures, the spoil of various religious houses, such as the + abbeys of Deols, Issoudun, Saint-Gildas, La Pree, Chezal-Beniot, + Saint-Sulpice, and the convents of Bourges and Issoudun, which the + liberality of our kings had enriched with the precious gifts of the + glorious works called forth by the Renaissance. Among the pictures + obtained by the Descoings and inherited by Rouget, was a Holy Family by + Albano, a Saint-Jerome of Demenichino, a Head of Christ by Gian Bellini, a + Virgin of Leonardo, a Bearing of the Cross by Titian, which formerly + belonged to the Marquis de Belabre (the one who sustained a siege and had + his head cut off under Louis XIII.); a Lazarus of Paul Veronese, a + Marriage of the Virgin by the priest Genois, two church paintings by + Rubens, and a replica of a picture by Perugino, done either by Perugino + himself or by Raphael; and finally, two Correggios and one Andrea del + Sarto. + </p> + <p> + The Descoings had culled these treasures from three hundred church + pictures, without knowing their value, and selecting them only for their + good preservation. Many were not only in magnificent frames, but some were + still under glass. Perhaps it was the beauty of the frames and the value + of the glass that led the Descoings to retain the pictures. The furniture + of the room was not wanting in the sort of luxury we prize in these days, + though at that time it had no value in Issoudun. The clock, standing on + the mantle-shelf between two superb silver candlesticks with six branches, + had an ecclesiastical splendor which revealed the hand of Boulle. The + armchairs of carved oak, covered with tapestry-work due to the devoted + industry of women of high rank, would be treasured in these days, for each + was surmounted with a crown and coat-of-arms. Between the windows stood a + rich console, brought from some castle, on whose marble slab stood an + immense China jar, in which the doctor kept his tobacco. But neither + Rouget, nor his son, nor the cook, took the slightest care of all these + treasures. They spat upon a hearth of exquisite delicacy, whose gilded + mouldings were now green with verdigris. A handsome chandelier, partly of + semi-transparent porcelain, was peppered, like the ceiling from which it + hung, with black speckles, bearing witness to the immunity enjoyed by the + flies. The Descoings had draped the windows with brocatelle curtains torn + from the bed of some monastic prior. To the left of the entrance-door, + stood a chest or coffer, worth many thousand francs, which the doctor now + used for a sideboard. + </p> + <p> + “Here, Fanchette,” cried Rouget to his cook, “bring two glasses; and give + us some of the old wine.” + </p> + <p> + Fanchette, a big Berrichon countrywoman, who was considered a better cook + than even La Cognette, ran in to receive the order with a celerity which + said much for the doctor’s despotism, and something also for her own + curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “What is an acre of vineyard worth in your parts?” asked the doctor, + pouring out a glass of wine for Brazier. + </p> + <p> + “Three hundred francs in silver.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then! leave your niece here as my servant; she shall have three + hundred francs in wages, and, as you are her guardian, you can take them.” + </p> + <p> + “Every year?” exclaimed Brazier, with his eyes as wide as saucers. + </p> + <p> + “I leave that to your conscience,” said the doctor. “She is an orphan; up + to eighteen, she has no right to what she earns.” + </p> + <p> + “Twelve to eighteen—that’s six acres of vineyard!” said the uncle. + “Ay, she’s a pretty one, gentle as a lamb, well made and active, and + obedient as a kitten. She were the light o’ my poor brother’s eyes—” + </p> + <p> + “I will pay a year in advance,” observed the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “Bless me! say two years, and I’ll leave her with you, for she’ll be + better off with you than with us; my wife beats her, she can’t abide her. + There’s none but I to stand up for her, and the little saint of a creature + is as innocent as a new-born babe.” + </p> + <p> + When he heard the last part of this speech, the doctor, struck by the word + “innocent,” made a sign to the uncle and took him out into the courtyard + and from thence to the garden; leaving the Rabouilleuse at the table with + Fanchette and Jean-Jacques, who immediately questioned her, and to whom + she naively related her meeting with the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “There now, my little darling, good-by,” said Uncle Brazier, coming back + and kissing Flore on the forehead; “you can well say I’ve made your + happiness by leaving you with this kind and worthy father of the poor; you + must obey him as you would me. Be a good girl, and behave nicely, and do + everything he tells you.” + </p> + <p> + “Get the room over mine ready,” said the doctor to Fanchette. “Little + Flore—I am sure she is worthy of the name—will sleep there in + future. To-morrow, we’ll send for a shoemaker and a dressmaker. Put + another plate on the table; she shall keep us company.” + </p> + <p> + That evening, all Issoudun could talk of nothing else than the sudden + appearance of the little “rabouilleuse” in Doctor Rouget’s house. In that + region of satire the nickname stuck to Mademoiselle Brazier before, + during, and after the period of her good fortune. + </p> + <p> + The doctor no doubt intended to do with Flore Brazier, in a small way, + what Louis XV. did in a large one with Mademoiselle de Romans; but he was + too late about it; Louis XV. was still young, whereas the doctor was in + the flower of old age. From twelve to fourteen, the charming little + Rabouilleuse lived a life of unmixed happiness. Always well-dressed, and + often much better tricked out than the richest girls in Issoudun, she + sported a gold watch and jewels, given by the doctor to encourage her + studies, and she had a master who taught her to read, write, and cipher. + But the almost animal life of the true peasant had instilled into Flore + such deep repugnance to the bitter cup of knowledge, that the doctor + stopped her education at that point. His intentions with regard to the + child, whom he cleansed and clothed, and taught, and formed with a care + which was all the more remarkable because he was thought to be utterly + devoid of tenderness, were interpreted in a variety of ways by the + cackling society of the town, whose gossip often gave rise to fatal + blunders, like those relating to the birth of Agathe and that of Max. It + is not easy for the community of a country town to disentangle the truth + from the mass of conjecture and contradictory reports to which a single + fact gives rise. The provinces insist—as in former days the + politicians of the little Provence at the Tuileries insisted—on full + explanations, and they usually end by knowing everything. But each person + clings to the version of the event which he, or she, likes best; proclaims + it, argues it, and considers it the only true one. In spite of the strong + light cast upon people’s lives by the constant spying of a little town, + truth is thus often obscured; and to be recognized, it needs the + impartiality which historians or superior minds acquire by looking at the + subject from a higher point of view. + </p> + <p> + “What do you suppose that old gorilla wants at his age with a little girl + only fifteen years old?” society was still saying two years after the + arrival of the Rabouilleuse. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! that’s true,” they answered, “his days of merry-making are long + past.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow, the doctor is disgusted at the stupidity of his son, and + he persists in hating his daughter Agathe; it may be that he has been + living a decent life for the last two years, intending to marry little + Flore; suppose she were to give him a fine, active, strapping boy, full of + life like Max?” said one of the wise heads of the town. + </p> + <p> + “Bah! don’t talk nonsense! After such a life as Rouget and Lousteau led + from 1770 to 1787, is it likely that either of them would have children at + sixty-five years of age? The old villain has read the Scriptures, if only + as a doctor, and he is doing as David did in his old age; that’s all.” + </p> + <p> + “They say that Brazier, when he is drunk, boasts in Vatan that he cheated + him,” cried one of those who always believed the worst of people. + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens! neighbor; what won’t they say at Issoudun?” + </p> + <p> + From 1800 to 1805, that is, for five years, the doctor enjoyed all the + pleasures of educating Flore without the annoyances which the ambitions + and pretensions of Mademoiselle de Romans inflicted, it is said, on Louis + le Bien-Aime. The little Rabouilleuse was so satisfied when she compared + the life she led at the doctor’s with that she would have led at her uncle + Brazier’s, that she yielded no doubt to the exactions of her master as if + she had been an Eastern slave. With due deference to the makers of idylls + and to philanthropists, the inhabitants of the provinces have very little + idea of certain virtues; and their scruples are of a kind that is roused + by self-interest, and not by any sentiment of the right or the becoming. + Raised from infancy with no prospect before them but poverty and ceaseless + labor, they are led to consider anything that saves them from the hell of + hunger and eternal toil as permissible, particularly if it is not contrary + to any law. Exceptions to this rule are rare. Virtue, socially speaking, + is the companion of a comfortable life, and comes only with education. + </p> + <p> + Thus the Rabouilleuse was an object of envy to all the young peasant-girls + within a circuit of ten miles, although her conduct, from a religious + point of view, was supremely reprehensible. Flore, born in 1787, grew up + in the midst of the saturnalias of 1793 and 1798, whose lurid gleams + penetrated these country regions, then deprived of priests and faith and + altars and religious ceremonies; where marriage was nothing more than + legal coupling, and revolutionary maxims left a deep impression. This was + markedly the case at Issoudun, a land where, as we have seen, revolt of + all kinds is traditional. In 1802, Catholic worship was scarcely + re-established. The Emperor found it a difficult matter to obtain priests. + In 1806, many parishes all over France were still widowed; so slowly were + the clergy, decimated by the scaffold, gathered together again after their + violent dispersion. + </p> + <p> + In 1802, therefore, nothing was likely to reproach Flore Brazier, unless + it might be her conscience; and conscience was sure to be weaker than + self-interest in the ward of Uncle Brazier. If, as everybody chose to + suppose, the cynical doctor was compelled by his age to respect a child of + fifteen, the Rabouilleuse was none the less considered very “wide awake,” + a term much used in that region. Still, some persons thought she could + claim a certificate of innocence from the cessation of the doctor’s cares + and attentions in the last two years of his life, during which time he + showed her something more than coldness. + </p> + <p> + Old Rouget had killed too many people not to know when his own end was + nigh; and his notary, finding him on his death-bed, draped as it were, in + the mantle of encyclopaedic philosophy, pressed him to make a provision in + favor of the young girl, then seventeen years old. + </p> + <p> + “So I do,” he said, cynically; “my death sets her at liberty.” + </p> + <p> + This speech paints the nature of the old man. Covering his evil doings + with witty sayings, he obtained indulgence for them, in a land where wit + is always applauded,—especially when addressed to obvious + self-interest. In those words the notary read the concentrated hatred of a + man whose calculations had been balked by Nature herself, and who revenged + himself upon the innocent object of an impotent love. This opinion was + confirmed to some extent by the obstinate resolution of the doctor to + leave nothing to the Rabouilleuse, saying with a bitter smile, when the + notary again urged the subject upon him,— + </p> + <p> + “Her beauty will make her rich enough!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <p> + Jean-Jacques Rouget did not mourn his father, though Flore Brazier did. + The old doctor had made his son extremely unhappy, especially since he + came of age, which happened in 1791; but he had given the little + peasant-girl the material pleasures which are the ideal of happiness to + country-folk. When Fanchette asked Flore, after the funeral, “Well, what + is to become of you, now that monsieur is dead?” Jean-Jacques’s eyes + lighted up, and for the first time in his life his dull face grew + animated, showed feeling, and seemed to brighten under the rays of a + thought. + </p> + <p> + “Leave the room,” he said to Fanchette, who was clearing the table. + </p> + <p> + At seventeen, Flore retained that delicacy of feature and form, that + distinction of beauty which attracted the doctor, and which women of the + world know how to preserve, though it fades among the peasant-girls like + the flowers of the field. Nevertheless, the tendency to embonpoint, which + handsome countrywomen develop when they no longer live a life of toil and + hardship in the fields and in the sunshine, was already noticeable about + her. Her bust had developed. The plump white shoulders were modelled on + rich lines that harmoniously blended with those of the throat, already + showing a few folds of flesh. But the outline of the face was still + faultless, and the chin delicate. + </p> + <p> + “Flore,” said Jean-Jacques, in a trembling voice, “you feel at home in + this house?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Monsieur Jean.” + </p> + <p> + As the heir was about to make his declaration, he felt his tongue stiffen + at the recollection of the dead man, just put away in his grave, and a + doubt seized him as to what lengths his father’s benevolence might have + gone. Flore, who was quite unable even to suspect his simplicity of mind, + looked at her future master and waited for a time, expecting Jean-Jacques + to go on with what he was saying; but she finally left him without knowing + what to think of such obstinate silence. Whatever teaching the + Rabouilleuse may have received from the doctor, it was many a long day + before she finally understood the character of Jean-Jacques, whose history + we now present in a few words. + </p> + <p> + At the death of his father, Jacques, then thirty-seven, was as timid and + submissive to paternal discipline as a child of twelve years old. That + timidity ought to explain his childhood, youth, and after-life to those + who are reluctant to admit the existence of such characters, or such facts + as this history relates,—though proofs of them are, alas, common + everywhere, even among princes; for Sophie Dawes was taken by the last of + the Condes under worse circumstances than the Rabouilleuse. There are two + species of timidity,—the timidity of the mind, and the timidity of + the nerves; a physical timidity, and a moral timidity. The one is + independent of the other. The body may fear and tremble, while the mind is + calm and courageous, or vice versa. This is the key to many moral + eccentricities. When the two are united in one man, that man will be a + cipher all his life; such double-sided timidity makes him what we call “an + imbecile.” Often fine suppressed qualities are hidden within that + imbecile. To this double infirmity we may, perhaps, owe the lives of + certain monks who lived in ecstasy; for this unfortunate moral and + physical disposition is produced quite as much by the perfection of the + soul and of the organs, as by defects which are still unstudied. + </p> + <p> + The timidity of Jean-Jacques came from a certain torpor of his faculties, + which a great teacher or a great surgeon, like Despleins, would have + roused. In him, as in the cretins, the sense of love had inherited a + strength and vigor which were lacking to his mental qualities, though he + had mind enough to guide him in ordinary affairs. The violence of passion, + stripped of the ideal in which most young men expend it, only increased + his timidity. He had never brought himself to court, as the saying is, any + woman in Issoudun. Certainly no young girl or matron would make advances + to a young man of mean stature, awkward and shame-faced in attitude; whose + vulgar face, with its flattened features and pallid skin, making him look + old before his time, was rendered still more hideous by a pair of large + and prominent light-green eyes. The presence of a woman stultified the + poor fellow, who was driven by passion on the one hand as violently as the + lack of ideas, resulting from his education, held him back on the other. + Paralyzed between these opposing forces, he had not a word to say, and + feared to be spoken to, so much did he dread the obligation of replying. + Desire, which usually sets free the tongue, only petrified his powers of + speech. Thus it happened that Jean-Jacques Rouget was solitary and sought + solitude because there alone he was at his ease. + </p> + <p> + The doctor had seen, too late for remedy, the havoc wrought in his son’s + life by a temperament and a character of this kind. He would have been + glad to get him married; but to do that, he must deliver him over to an + influence that was certain to become tyrannical, and the doctor hesitated. + Was it not practically giving the whole management of the property into + the hands of a stranger, some unknown girl? The doctor knew how difficult + it was to gain true indications of the moral character of a woman from any + study of a young girl. So, while he continued to search for a + daughter-in-law whose sentiments and education offered some guarantees for + the future, he endeavored to push his son into the ways of avarice; + meaning to give the poor fool a sort of instinct that might eventually + take the place of intelligence. + </p> + <p> + He trained him, in the first place, to mechanical habits of life; and + instilled into him fixed ideas as to the investment of his revenues: and + he spared him the chief difficulties of the management of a fortune, by + leaving his estates all in good order, and leased for long periods. + Nevertheless, a fact which was destined to be of paramount importance in + the life of the poor creature escaped the notice of the wily old doctor. + Timidity is a good deal like dissimulation, and is equally secretive. + Jean-Jacques was passionately in love with the Rabouilleuse. Nothing, of + course, could be more natural. Flore was the only woman who lived in the + bachelor’s presence, the only one he could see at his ease; and at all + hours he secretly contemplated her and watched her. To him, she was the + light of his paternal home; she gave him, unknown to herself, the only + pleasures that brightened his youth. Far from being jealous of his father, + he rejoiced in the education the old man was giving to Flore: would it not + make her all he wanted, a woman easy to win, and to whom, therefore, he + need pay no court? The passion, observe, which is able to reflect, gives + even to ninnies, fools, and imbeciles a species of intelligence, + especially in youth. In the lowest human creature we find an animal + instinct whose persistency resembles thought. + </p> + <p> + The next day, Flore, who had been reflecting on her master’s silence, + waited in expectation of some momentous communication; but although he + kept near her, and looked at her on the sly with passionate glances, + Jean-Jacques still found nothing to say. At last, when the dessert was on + the table, he recommenced the scene of the night before. + </p> + <p> + “You like your life here?” he said to Flore. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Monsieur Jean.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, stay here then.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Monsieur Jean.” + </p> + <p> + This strange situation lasted three weeks. One night, when no sound broke + the stillness of the house, Flore, who chanced to wake up, heard the + regular breathing of human lungs outside her door, and was frightened to + discover Jean-Jacques, crouched like a dog on the landing. + </p> + <p> + “He loves me,” she thought; “but he will get the rheumatism if he keeps up + that sort of thing.” + </p> + <p> + The next day Flore looked at her master with a certain expression. This + mute almost instinctive love had touched her; she no longer thought the + poor ninny so ugly, though his forehead was crowned with pimples + resembling ulcers, the signs of a vitiated blood. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t want to go back and live in the fields, do you?” said + Jean-Jacques when they were alone. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you ask me that?” she said, looking at him. + </p> + <p> + “To know—” replied Rouget, turning the color of a boiled lobster. + </p> + <p> + “Do you wish to send me back?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “No, mademoiselle.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what is it you want to know? You have some reason—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I want to know—” + </p> + <p> + “What?” said Flore. + </p> + <p> + “You won’t tell me?” exclaimed Rouget. + </p> + <p> + “Yes I will, on my honor—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! that’s it,” returned Rouget, with a frightened air. “Are you an + honest girl?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll take my oath—” + </p> + <p> + “Are you, truly?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you hear me tell you so?” + </p> + <p> + “Come; are you the same as you were when your uncle brought you here + barefooted?” + </p> + <p> + “A fine question, faith!” cried Flore, blushing. + </p> + <p> + The heir lowered his head and did not raise it again. Flore, amazed at + such an encouraging sign from a man who had been overcome by a fear of + that nature, left the room. + </p> + <p> + Three days later, at the same hour (for both seemed to regard the dessert + as a field of battle), Flore spoke first, and said to her master,— + </p> + <p> + “Have you anything against me?” + </p> + <p> + “No, mademoiselle,” he answered, “No—” (a pause) “On the contrary.” + </p> + <p> + “You seemed annoyed the other day to hear I was an honest girl.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I only wished to know—” (a pause) “But you would not tell me—” + </p> + <p> + “On my word!” she said, “I will tell you the whole truth.” + </p> + <p> + “The whole truth about—my father?” he asked in a strangled voice. + </p> + <p> + “Your father,” she said, looking full into her master’s eye, “was a worthy + man—he liked a joke—What of that?—there was nothing in + it. But, poor dear man, it wasn’t the will that was wanting. The truth is, + he had some spite against you, I don’t know what, and he meant—oh! + he meant you harm. Sometimes he made me laugh; but there! what of that?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Flore,” said the heir, taking her hand, “as my father was nothing + to you—” + </p> + <p> + “What did you suppose he was to me?” she cried, as if offended by some + unworthy suspicion. + </p> + <p> + “Well, but just listen—” + </p> + <p> + “He was my benefactor, that was all. Ah! he would have liked to make me + his wife, but—” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Rouget, taking the hand which Flore had snatched away from + him, “if he was nothing to you you can stay here with me, can’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “If you wish it,” she said, dropping her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “No, no! if you wish it, you!” exclaimed Rouget. “Yes, you shall be—mistress + here. All that is here shall be yours; you shall take care of my property, + it is almost yours now—for I love you; I have always loved you since + the day you came and stood there—there!—with bare feet.” + </p> + <p> + Flore made no answer. When the silence became embarrassing, Jean-Jacques + had recourse to a terrible argument. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” he said, with visible warmth, “wouldn’t it be better than + returning to the fields?” + </p> + <p> + “As you will, Monsieur Jean,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, in spite of her “as you will,” Jean-Jacques got no further. + Men of his nature want certainty. The effort that they make in avowing + their love is so great, and costs them so much, that they feel unable to + go on with it. This accounts for their attachment to the first woman who + accepts them. We can only guess at circumstances by results. Ten months + after the death of his father, Jean-Jacques changed completely; his leaden + face cleared, and his whole countenance breathed happiness. Flore exacted + that he should take minute care of his person, and her own vanity was + gratified in seeing him well-dressed; she always stood on the sill of the + door, and watched him starting for a walk, until she could see him no + longer. The whole town noticed these changes, which had made a new man of + the bachelor. + </p> + <p> + “Have you heard the news?” people said to each other in Issoudun. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Jean-Jacques inherits everything from his father, even the Rabouilleuse.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you suppose the old doctor was wicked enough to provide a ruler for + his son?” + </p> + <p> + “Rouget has got a treasure, that’s certain,” said everybody. + </p> + <p> + “She’s a sly one! She is very handsome, and she will make him marry her.” + </p> + <p> + “What luck that girl has had, to be sure!” + </p> + <p> + “The luck that only comes to pretty girls.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, bah! do you believe that? look at my uncle Borniche-Herau. You have + heard of Mademoiselle Ganivet? she was as ugly as seven capital sins, but + for all that, she got three thousand francs a year out of him.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but that was in 1778.” + </p> + <p> + “Still, Rouget is making a mistake. His father left him a good forty + thousand francs’ income, and he ought to marry Mademoiselle Herau.” + </p> + <p> + “The doctor tried to arrange it, but she would not consent; Jean-Jacques + is so stupid—” + </p> + <p> + “Stupid! why women are very happy with that style of man.” + </p> + <p> + “Is your wife happy?” + </p> + <p> + Such was the sort of tattle that ran through Issoudun. If people, + following the use and wont of the provinces, began by laughing at this + quasi-marriage, they ended by praising Flore for devoting herself to the + poor fellow. We now see how it was that Flore Brazier obtained the + management of the Rouget household,—from father to son, as young + Goddet had said. It is desirable to sketch the history of that management + for the edification of old bachelors. + </p> + <p> + Fanchette, the cook, was the only person in Issoudun who thought it wrong + that Flore Brazier should be queen over Jean-Jacques Rouget and his home. + She protested against the immorality of the connection, and took a tone of + injured virtue; the fact being that she was humiliated by having, at her + age, a crab-girl for a mistress,—a child who had been brought + barefoot into the house. Fanchette owned three hundred francs a year in + the Funds, for the doctor made her invest her savings in that way, and he + had left her as much more in an annuity; she could therefore live at her + ease without the necessity of working, and she quitted the house nine + months after the funeral of her old master, April 15, 1806. That date may + indicate, to a perspicacious observer, the epoch at which Flore Brazier + ceased to be an honest girl. + </p> + <p> + The Rabouilleuse, clever enough to foresee Fanchette’s probable defection,—there + is nothing like the exercise of power for teaching policy,—was + already resolved to do without a servant. For six months she had studied, + without seeming to do so, the culinary operations that made Fanchette a + cordon-bleu worthy of cooking for a doctor. In the matter of choice + living, doctors are on a par with bishops. The doctor had brought + Fanchette’s talents to perfection. In the provinces the lack of occupation + and the monotony of existence turn all activity of mind towards the + kitchen. People do not dine as luxuriously in the country as they do in + Paris, but they dine better; the dishes are meditated upon and studied. In + rural regions we often find some Careme in petticoats, some unrecognized + genius able to serve a simple dish of haricot-beans worthy of the nod with + which Rossini welcomed a perfectly-rendered measure. + </p> + <p> + When studying for his degree in Paris, the doctor had followed a course of + chemistry under Rouelle, and had gathered some ideas which he afterwards + put to use in the chemistry of cooking. His memory is famous in Issoudun + for certain improvements little known outside of Berry. It was he who + discovered that an omelette is far more delicate when the whites and the + yolks are not beaten together with the violence which cooks usually put + into the operation. He considered that the whites should be beaten to a + froth and the yolks gently added by degrees; moreover a frying-pan should + never be used, but a “cagnard” of porcelain or earthenware. The “cagnard” + is a species of thick dish standing on four feet, so that when it is + placed on the stove the air circulates underneath and prevents the fire + from cracking it. In Touraine the “cagnard” is called a “cauquemarre.” + Rabelais, I think, speaks of a “cauquemarre” for cooking cockatrice eggs, + thus proving the antiquity of the utensil. The doctor had also found a way + to prevent the tartness of browned butter; but his secret, which unluckily + he kept to his own kitchen, has been lost. + </p> + <p> + Flore, a born fryer and roaster, two qualities that can never be acquired + by observation nor yet by labor, soon surpassed Fanchette. In making + herself a cordon-bleu she was thinking of Jean-Jacques’s comfort; though + she was, it must be owned, tolerably dainty. Incapable, like all persons + without education, of doing anything with her brains, she spent her + activity upon household matters. She rubbed up the furniture till it + shone, and kept everything about the house in a state of cleanliness + worthy of Holland. She managed the avalanches of soiled linen and the + floods of water that go by the name of “the wash,” which was done, + according to provincial usage, three times a year. She kept a housewifely + eye to the linen, and mended it carefully. Then, desirous of learning + little by little the secret of the family property, she acquired the very + limited business knowledge which Rouget possessed, and increased it by + conversations with the notary of the late doctor, Monsieur Heron. Thus + instructed, she gave excellent advice to her little Jean-Jacques. Sure of + being always mistress, she was as eager and solicitous about the old + bachelor’s interests as if they had been her own. She was not obliged to + guard against the exactions of her uncle, for two months before the + doctor’s death Brazier died of a fall as he was leaving a wine-shop, + where, since his rise in fortune, he spent most of his time. Flore had + also lost her father; thus she served her master with all the affection + which an orphan, thankful to make herself a home and a settlement in life, + would naturally feel. + </p> + <p> + This period of his life was paradise to poor Jean-Jacques, who now + acquired the gentle habits of an animal, trained into a sort of monastic + regularity. He slept late. Flore, who was up at daybreak attending to her + housekeeping, woke him so that he should find his breakfast ready as soon + as he had finished dressing. After breakfast, about eleven o’clock, + Jean-Jacques went to walk; talked with the people he met, and came home at + three in the afternoon to read the papers,—those of the department, + and a journal from Paris which he received three days after publication, + well greased by the thirty hands through which it came, browned by the + snuffy noses that had pored over it, and soiled by the various tables on + which it had lain. The old bachelor thus got through the day until it was + time for dinner; over that meal he spent as much time as it was possible + to give to it. Flore told him the news of the town, repeating the cackle + that was current, which she had carefully picked up. Towards eight o’clock + the lights were put out. Going to bed early is a saving of fire and + candles very commonly practised in the provinces, which contributes no + doubt to the empty-mindedness of the inhabitants. Too much sleep dulls and + weakens the brain. + </p> + <p> + Such was the life of these two persons during a period of nine years, the + great events of which were a few journeys to Bourges, Vierzon, + Chateauroux, or somewhat further, if the notaries of those towns and + Monsieur Heron had no investments ready for acceptance. Rouget lent his + money at five per cent on a first mortgage, with release of the wife’s + rights in case the owner was married. He never lent more than a third of + the value of the property, and required notes payable to his order for an + additional interest of two and a half per cent spread over the whole + duration of the loan. Such were the rules his father had told him to + follow. Usury, that clog upon the ambition of the peasantry, is the + destroyer of country regions. This levy of seven and a half per cent + seemed, therefore, so reasonable to the borrowers that Jean-Jacques Rouget + had his choice of investments; and the notaries of the different towns, + who got a fine commission for themselves from clients for whom they + obtained money on such good terms, gave due notice to the old bachelor. + </p> + <p> + During these nine years Flore obtained in the long run, insensibly and + without aiming for it, an absolute control over her master. From the + first, she treated him very familiarly; then, without failing him in + proper respect, she so far surpassed him in superiority of mind and force + of character that he became in fact the servant of his servant. Elderly + child that he was, he met this mastery half-way by letting Flore take such + care of him that she treated him more as a mother would a son; and he + himself ended by clinging to her with the feeling of a child dependent on + a mother’s protection. But there were other ties between them not less + tightly knotted. In the first place, Flore kept the house and managed all + its business. Jean-Jacques left everything to the crab-girl so completely + that life without her would have seemed to him not only difficult, but + impossible. In every way, this woman had become the one need of his + existence; she indulged all his fancies, for she knew them well. He loved + to see her bright face always smiling at him,—the only face that had + ever smiled upon him, the only one to which he could look for a smile. + This happiness, a purely material happiness, expressed in the homely words + which come readiest to the tongue in a Berrichon household, and visible on + the fine countenance of the young woman, was like a reflection of his own + inward content. The state into which Jean-Jacques was thrown when Flore’s + brightness was clouded over by some passing annoyance revealed to the girl + her power over him, and, to make sure of it, she sometimes liked to use + it. Using such power means, with women of her class, abusing it. The + Rabouilleuse, no doubt, made her master play some of those scenes buried + in the mysteries of private life, of which Otway gives a specimen in the + tragedy of “Venice Preserved,” where the scene between the senator and + Aquilina is the realization of the magnificently horrible. Flore felt so + secure of her power that, unfortunately for her, and for the bachelor + himself, it did not occur to her to make him marry her. + </p> + <p> + Towards the close of 1815, Flore, who was then twenty-seven, had reached + the perfect development of her beauty. Plump and fresh, and white as a + Norman countrywoman, she was the ideal of what our ancestors used to call + “a buxom housewife.” Her beauty, always that of a handsome barmaid, though + higher in type and better kept, gave her a likeness to Mademoiselle George + in her palmy days, setting aside the latter’s imperial dignity. Flore had + the dazzling white round arms, the ample modelling, the satiny textures of + the skin, the alluring though less rigidly correct outlines of the great + actress. Her expression was one of sweetness and tenderness; but her + glance commanded less respect than that of the noblest Agrippina that ever + trod the French stage since the days of Racine: on the contrary, it evoked + a vulgar joy. In 1816 the Rabouilleuse saw Maxence Gilet, and fell in love + with him at first sight. Her heart was cleft by the mythological arrow,—admirable + description of an effect of nature which the Greeks, unable to conceive + the chivalric, ideal, and melancholy love begotten of Christianity, could + represent in no other way. Flore was too handsome to be disdained, and Max + accepted his conquest. + </p> + <p> + Thus, at twenty-eight years of age, the Rabouilleuse felt for the first + time a true love, an idolatrous love, the love which includes all ways of + loving,—that of Gulnare and that of Medora. As soon as the penniless + officer found out the respective situations of Flore and Jean-Jacques + Rouget, he saw something more desirable than an “amourette” in an intimacy + with the Rabouilleuse. He asked nothing better for his future prosperity + than to take up his abode at the Rouget’s, recognizing perfectly the + feeble nature of the old bachelor. Flore’s passion necessarily affected + the life and household affairs of her master. For a month the old man, now + grown excessively timid, saw the laughing and kindly face of his mistress + change to something terrible and gloomy and sullen. He was made to endure + flashes of angry temper purposely displayed, precisely like a married man + whose wife is meditating an infidelity. When, after some cruel rebuff, he + nerved himself to ask Flore the reason of the change, her eyes were so + full of hatred, and her voice so aggressive and contemptuous, that the + poor creature quailed under them. + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens!” she cried; “you have neither heart nor soul! Here’s + sixteen years that I have spent my youth in this house, and I have only + just found out that you have got a stone there (striking her breast). For + two months you have seen before your eyes that brave captain, a victim of + the Bourbons, who was cut out for a general, and is down in the depths of + poverty, hunted into a hole of a place where there’s no way to make a + penny of money! He’s forced to sit on a stool all day in the mayor’s + office to earn—what? Six hundred miserable francs,—a fine + thing, indeed! And here are you, with six hundred and fifty-nine thousand + well invested, and sixty thousand francs’ income,—thanks to me, who + never spend more than three thousand a year, everything included, even my + own clothes, yes, everything!—and you never think of offering him a + home here, though there’s the second floor empty! You’d rather the rats + and mice ran riot in it than put a human being there,—and he a lad + your father always allowed to be his own son! Do you want to know what you + are? I’ll tell you,—a fratricide! And I know why, too. You see I + take an interest in him, and that provokes you. Stupid as you seem, you + have got more spite in you than the spitefullest of men. Well, yes! I do + take an interest in him, and a keen one—” + </p> + <p> + “But, Flore—” + </p> + <p> + “‘<i>But, Flore</i>’, indeed! What’s that got to do with it? You may go + and find another Flore (if you can!), for I hope this glass of wine may + poison me if I don’t get away from your dungeon of a house. I haven’t, God + be thanked! cost you one penny during the twelve years I’ve been with you, + and you have had the pleasure of my company into the bargain. I could have + earned my own living anywhere with the work that I’ve done here,—washing, + ironing, looking after the linen, going to market, cooking, taking care of + your interests before everything, slaving myself to death from morning + till night,—and this is my reward!” + </p> + <p> + “But, Flore—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, ‘<i>Flore</i>’! find another Flore, if you can, at your time of + life, fifty-one years old, and getting feeble,—for the way your + health is failing is frightful, I know that! and besides, you are none too + amusing—” + </p> + <p> + “But, Flore—” + </p> + <p> + “Let me alone!” + </p> + <p> + She went out, slamming the door with a violence that echoed through the + house, and seemed to shake it to its foundations. Jean-Jacques softly + opened the door and went, still more softly, into the kitchen where she + was muttering to herself. + </p> + <p> + “But, Flore,” said the poor sheep, “this is the first time I have heard of + this wish of yours; how do you know whether I will agree to it or not?” + </p> + <p> + “In the first place,” she said, “there ought to be a man in the house. + Everybody knows you have ten, fifteen, twenty thousand francs here; if + they came to rob you we should both be murdered. For my part, I don’t care + to wake up some fine morning chopped in quarters, as happened to that poor + servant-girl who was silly enough to defend her master. Well! if the + robbers knew there was a man in the house as brave as Caesar and who + wasn’t born yesterday,—for Max could swallow three burglars as quick + as a flash,—well, then I should sleep easy. People may tell you a + lot of stuff,—that I love him, that I adore him,—and some say + this and some say that! Do you know what you ought to say? You ought to + answer that you know it; that your father told you on his deathbed to take + care of his poor Max. That will stop people’s tongues; for every stone in + Issoudun can tell you he paid Max’s schooling—and so! Here’s nine + years that I have eaten your bread—” + </p> + <p> + “Flore,—Flore!” + </p> + <p> + “—and many a one in this town has paid court to me, I can tell you! + Gold chains here, and watches there,—what don’t they offer me? ‘My + little Flore,’ they say, ‘why won’t you leave that old fool of a Rouget,’—for + that’s what they call you. ‘I leave him!’ I always answer, ‘a poor + innocent like that? I think I see myself! what would become of him? No, + no, where the kid is tethered, let her browse—‘” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Flore; I’ve none but you in this world, and you make me happy. If it + will give you pleasure, my dear, well, we will have Maxence Gilet here; he + can eat with us—” + </p> + <p> + “Heavens! I should hope so!” + </p> + <p> + “There, there! don’t get angry—” + </p> + <p> + “Enough for one is enough for two,” she answered laughing. “I’ll tell you + what you can do, my lamb, if you really mean to be kind; you must go and + walk up and down near the Mayor’s office at four o’clock, and manage to + meet Monsieur Gilet and invite him to dinner. If he makes excuses, tell + him it will give me pleasure; he is too polite to refuse. And after + dinner, at dessert, if he tells you about his misfortunes, and the hulks + and so forth—for you can easily get him to talk about all that—then + you can make him the offer to come and live here. If he makes any + objection, never mind, I shall know how to settle it.” + </p> + <p> + Walking slowly along the boulevard Baron, the old celibate reflected, as + much as he had the mind to reflect, over this incident. If he were to part + from Flore (the mere thought confused him) where could he find another + woman? Should he marry? At his age he should be married for his money, and + a legitimate wife would use him far more cruelly than Flore. Besides, the + thought of being deprived of her tenderness, even if it were a mere + pretence, caused him horrible anguish. He was therefore as polite to + Captain Gilet as he knew how to be. The invitation was given, as Flore had + requested, before witnesses, to guard the hero’s honor from all suspicion. + </p> + <p> + A reconciliation took place between Flore and her master; but from that + day forth Jean-Jacques noticed many a trifle that betokened a total change + in his mistress’s affections. For two or three weeks Flore Brazier + complained to the tradespeople in the markets, and to the women with whom + she gossiped, about Monsieur Rouget’s tyranny,—how he had taken it + into his head to invite his self-styled natural brother to live with him. + No one, however, was taken in by this comedy; and Flore was looked upon as + a wonderfully clever and artful creature. Old Rouget really found himself + very comfortable after Max became the master of his house; for he thus + gained a companion who paid him many attentions, without, however, showing + any servility. Gilet talked, discussed politics, and sometimes went to + walk with Rouget. After Max was fairly installed, Flore did not choose to + do the cooking; she said it spoiled her hands. At the request of the grand + master of the Order of the Knights of Idleness, Mere Cognette produced one + of her relatives, an old maid whose master, a curate, had lately died + without leaving her anything,—an excellent cook, withal,—who + declared she would devote herself for life or death to Max and Flore. In + the name of the two powers, Mere Cognette promised her an annuity of three + hundred francs a year at the end of ten years, if she served them loyally, + honestly, and discreetly. The Vedie, as she was called, was noticeable for + a face deeply pitted by the small-pox, and correspondingly ugly. + </p> + <p> + After the new cook had entered upon her duties, the Rabouilleuse took the + title of Madame Brazier. She wore corsets; she had silk, or handsome + woollen and cotton dresses, according to the season, expensive + neckerchiefs, embroidered caps and collars, lace ruffles at her throat, + boots instead of shoes, and, altogether, adopted a richness and elegance + of apparel which renewed the youthfulness of her appearance. She was like + a rough diamond, that needed cutting and mounting by a jeweller to bring + out its full value. Her desire was to do honor to Max. At the end of the + first year, in 1817, she brought a horse, styled English, from Bourges, + for the poor cavalry captain, who was weary of going afoot. Max had picked + up in the purlieus of Issoudun an old lancer of the Imperial Guard, a Pole + named Kouski, now very poor, who asked nothing better than to quarter + himself in Monsieur Rouget’s house as the captain’s servant. Max was + Kouski’s idol, especially after the duel with the three royalists. So, + from 1817, the household of the old bachelor was made up of five persons, + three of whom were masters, and the expenses advanced to about eight + thousand francs a year. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <p> + At the time when Madame Bridau returned to Issoudun to save—as + Maitre Desroches expressed it—an inheritance that was seriously + threatened, Jean-Jacques Rouget had reached by degrees a condition that + was semi-vegetative. In the first place, after Max’s instalment, Flore put + the table on an episcopal footing. Rouget, thrown in the way of good + living, ate more and still more, enticed by the Vedie’s excellent dishes. + He grew no fatter, however, in spite of this abundant and luxurious + nourishment. From day to day he weakened like a worn-out man,—fatigued, + perhaps, with the effort of digestion,—and his eyes had dark circles + around them. Still, when his friends and neighbors met him in his walks + and questioned him about his health, he always answered that he was never + better in his life. As he had always been thought extremely deficient in + mind, people did not notice the constant lowering of his faculties. His + love for Flore was the one thing that kept him alive; in fact, he existed + only for her, and his weakness in her presence was unbounded; he obeyed + the creature’s mere look, and watched her movements as a dog watches every + gesture of his master. In short, as Madame Hochon remarked, at fifty-seven + years of age he seemed older than Monsieur Hochon, an octogenarian. + </p> + <p> + Every one will suppose, and with reason, that Max’s <i>appartement</i> was + worthy of so charming a fellow. In fact, in the course of six years our + captain had by degrees perfected the comfort of his abode and adorned + every detail of it, as much for his own pleasure as for Flore’s. But it + was, after all, only the comfort and luxury of Issoudun,—colored + tiles, rather elegant wallpapers, mahogany furniture, mirrors in gilt + frames, muslin curtains with red borders, a bed with a canopy, and + draperies arranged as the provincial upholsterers arrange them for a rich + bride; which in the eyes of Issoudun seemed the height of luxury, but are + so common in vulgar fashion-plates that even the petty shopkeepers in + Paris have discarded them at their weddings. One very unusual thing + appeared, which caused much talk in Issoudun, namely, a rush-matting on + the stairs, no doubt to muffle the sound of feet. In fact, though Max was + in the habit of coming in at daybreak, he never woke any one, and Rouget + was far from suspecting that his guest was an accomplice in the nocturnal + performances of the Knights of Idleness. + </p> + <p> + About eight o’clock the next morning, Flore, wearing a dressing-gown of + some pretty cotton stuff with narrow pink stripes, a lace cap on her head, + and her feet in furred slippers, softly opened the door of Max’s chamber; + seeing that he slept, she remained standing beside the bed. + </p> + <p> + “He came in so late!” she said to herself. “It was half-past three. He + must have a good constitution to stand such amusements. Isn’t he strong, + the dear love! I wonder what they did last night.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, there you are, my little Flore!” said Max, waking like a soldier + trained by the necessities of war to have his wits and his self-possession + about him the instant that he waked, however suddenly it might happen. + </p> + <p> + “You are sleepy; I’ll go away.” + </p> + <p> + “No, stay; there’s something serious going on.” + </p> + <p> + “Were you up to some mischief last night?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, bah! It concerns you and me and that old fool. You never told me he + had a family! Well, his family are coming,—coming here,—no + doubt to turn us out, neck and crop.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I’ll shake him well,” said Flore. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle Brazier,” said Max gravely, “things are too serious for + giddiness. Send me my coffee; I’ll take it in bed, where I’ll think over + what we had better do. Come back at nine o’clock, and we’ll talk about it. + Meanwhile, behave as if you had heard nothing.” + </p> + <p> + Frightened at the news, Flore left Max and went to make his coffee; but a + quarter of an hour later, Baruch burst into Max’s bedroom, crying out to + the grand master,— + </p> + <p> + “Fario is hunting for his barrow!” + </p> + <p> + In five minutes Max was dressed and in the street, and though he sauntered + along with apparent indifference, he soon reached the foot of the tower + embankment, where he found quite a collection of people. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” asked Max, making his way through the crowd and reaching the + Spaniard. + </p> + <p> + Fario was a withered little man, as ugly as though he were a blue-blooded + grandee. His fiery eyes, placed very close to his nose and piercing as a + gimlet, would have won him the name of a sorcerer in Naples. He seemed + gentle because he was calm, quiet, and slow in his movements; and for this + reason people commonly called him “goodman Fario.” But his skin—the + color of gingerbread—and his softness of manner only hid from stupid + eyes, and disclosed to observing ones, the half-Moorish nature of a + peasant of Granada, which nothing had as yet roused from its phlegmatic + indolence. + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure,” Max said to him, after listening to his grievance, “that + you brought your cart to this place? for, thank God, there are no thieves + in Issoudun.” + </p> + <p> + “I left it just there—” + </p> + <p> + “If the horse was harnessed to it, hasn’t he drawn it somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “Here’s the horse,” said Fario, pointing to the animal, which stood + harnessed thirty feet away. + </p> + <p> + Max went gravely up to the place where the horse stood, because from there + the bottom of the tower at the top of the embankment could be seen,—the + crowd being at the foot of the mound. Everybody followed Max, and that was + what the scoundrel wanted. + </p> + <p> + “Has anybody thoughtlessly put a cart in his pocket?” cried Francois. + </p> + <p> + “Turn out your pockets, all of you!” said Baruch. + </p> + <p> + Shouts of laughter resounded on all sides. Fario swore. Oaths, with a + Spaniard, denote the highest pitch of anger. + </p> + <p> + “Was your cart light?” asked Max. + </p> + <p> + “Light!” cried Fario. “If those who laugh at me had it on their feet, + their corns would never hurt them again.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it must be devilishly light,” answered Max, “for look there!” + pointing to the foot of the tower; “it has flown up the embankment.” + </p> + <p> + At these words all eyes were lifted to the spot, and for a moment there + was a perfect uproar in the market-place. Each man pointed at the barrow + bewitched, and all their tongues wagged. + </p> + <p> + “The devil makes common cause with the inn-keepers,” said Goddet to the + astonished Spaniard. “He means to teach you not to leave your cart about + in the streets, but to put it in the tavern stables.” + </p> + <p> + At this speech the crowd hooted, for Fario was thought to be a miser. + </p> + <p> + “Come, my good fellow,” said Max, “don’t lose heart. We’ll go up to the + tower and see how your barrow got there. Thunder and cannon! we’ll lend + you a hand! Come along, Baruch.” + </p> + <p> + “As for you,” he whispered to Francois, “get the people to stand back, and + make sure there is nobody at the foot of the embankment when you see us at + the top.” + </p> + <p> + Fario, Max, Baruch, and three other knights climbed to the foot of the + tower. During the rather perilous ascent Max and Fario noticed that no + damage to the embankment, nor even trace of the passage of the barrow, + could be seen. Fario began to imagine witchcraft, and lost his head. When + they reached the top and examined into the matter, it really seemed a + thing impossible that the cart had got there. + </p> + <p> + “How shall I ever get it down?” said the Spaniard, whose little eyes began + for the first time to show fear; while his swarthy yellow face, which + seemed as it if could never change color, whitened. + </p> + <p> + “How?” said Max. “Why, that’s not difficult.” + </p> + <p> + And taking advantage of the Spaniard’s stupefaction, he raised the barrow + by the shafts with his robust arms and prepared to fling it down, calling + in thundering tones as it left his grasp, “Look out there, below!” + </p> + <p> + No accident happened, for the crowd, persuaded by Francois and eaten up + with curiosity, had retired to a distance from which they could see more + clearly what went on at the top of the embankment. The cart was dashed to + an infinite number of pieces in a very picturesque manner. + </p> + <p> + “There! you have got it down,” said Baruch. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, brigands! ah, scoundrels!” cried Fario; “perhaps it was you who + brought it up here!” + </p> + <p> + Max, Baruch, and their three comrades began to laugh at the Spaniard’s + rage. + </p> + <p> + “I wanted to do you a service,” said Max coolly, “and in handling the + damned thing I came very near flinging myself after it; and this is how + you thank me, is it? What country do you come from?” + </p> + <p> + “I come from a country where they never forgive,” replied Fario, trembling + with rage. “My cart will be the cab in which you shall drive to the devil!—unless,” + he said, suddenly becoming as meek as a lamb, “you will give me a new + one.” + </p> + <p> + “We will talk about that,” said Max, beginning to descend. + </p> + <p> + When they reached the bottom and met the first hilarious group, Max took + Fario by the button of his jacket and said to him,— + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my good Fario, I’ll give you a magnificent cart, if you will give me + two hundred and fifty francs; but I won’t warrant it to go, like this one, + up a tower.” + </p> + <p> + At this last jest Fario became as cool as though he were making a bargain. + </p> + <p> + “Damn it!” he said, “give me the wherewithal to replace my barrow, and it + will be the best use you ever made of old Rouget’s money.” + </p> + <p> + Max turned livid; he raised his formidable fist to strike Fario; but + Baruch, who knew that the blow would descend on others besides the + Spaniard, plucked the latter away like a feather and whispered to Max,— + </p> + <p> + “Don’t commit such a folly!” + </p> + <p> + The grand master, thus called to order, began to laugh and said to Fario,— + </p> + <p> + “If I, by accident, broke your barrow, and you in return try to slander + me, we are quits.” + </p> + <p> + “Not yet,” muttered Fario. “But I am glad to know what my barrow was + worth.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Max, you’ve found your match!” said a spectator of the scene, who did + not belong to the Order of Idleness. + </p> + <p> + “Adieu, Monsieur Gilet. I haven’t thanked you yet for lending me a hand,” + cried the Spaniard, as he kicked the sides of his horse and disappeared + amid loud hurrahs. + </p> + <p> + “We will keep the tires of the wheels for you,” shouted a wheelwright, who + had come to inspect the damage done to the cart. + </p> + <p> + One of the shafts was sticking upright in the ground, as straight as a + tree. Max stood by, pale and thoughtful, and deeply annoyed by Fario’s + speech. For five days after this, nothing was talked of in Issoudun but + the tale of the Spaniard’s barrow; it was even fated to travel abroad, as + Goddet remarked,—for it went the round of Berry, where the speeches + of Fario and Max were repeated, and at the end of a week the affair, + greatly to the Spaniard’s satisfaction, was still the talk of the three + departments and the subject of endless gossip. In consequence of the + vindictive Spaniard’s terrible speech, Max and the Rabouilleuse became the + object of certain comments which were merely whispered in Issoudun, though + they were spoken aloud in Bourges, Vatan, Vierzon, and Chateauroux. + Maxence Gilet knew enough of that region of the country to guess how + envenomed such comments would become. + </p> + <p> + “We can’t stop their tongues,” he said at last. “Ah! I did a foolish + thing!” + </p> + <p> + “Max!” said Francois, taking his arm. “They are coming to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “They! Who!” + </p> + <p> + “The Bridaus. My grandmother has just had a letter from her goddaughter.” + </p> + <p> + “Listen, my boy,” said Max in a low voice. “I have been thinking deeply of + this matter. Neither Flore nor I ought to seem opposed to the Bridaus. If + these heirs are to be got rid of, it is for you Hochons to drive them out + of Issoudun. Find out what sort of people they are. To-morrow at Mere + Cognette’s, after I’ve taken their measure, we can decide what is to be + done, and how we can set your grandfather against them.” + </p> + <p> + “The Spaniard found the flaw in Max’s armor,” said Baruch to his cousin + Francois, as they turned into Monsieur Hochon’s house and watched their + comrade entering his own door. + </p> + <p> + While Max was thus employed, Flore, in spite of her friend’s advice, was + unable to restrain her wrath; and without knowing whether she would help + or hinder Max’s plans, she burst forth upon the poor bachelor. When + Jean-Jacques incurred the anger of his mistress, the little attentions and + vulgar fondlings which were all his joy were suddenly suppressed. Flore + sent her master, as the children say, into disgrace. No more tender + glances, no more of the caressing little words in various tones with which + she decked her conversation,—“my kitten,” “my old darling,” “my + bibi,” “my rat,” etc. A “you,” cold and sharp and ironically respectful, + cut like the blade of a knife through the heart of the miserable old + bachelor. The “you” was a declaration of war. Instead of helping the poor + man with his toilet, handing him what he wanted, forestalling his wishes, + looking at him with the sort of admiration which all women know how to + express, and which, in some cases, the coarser it is the better it + pleases,—saying, for instance, “You look as fresh as a rose!” or, + “What health you have!” “How handsome you are, my old Jean!”—in + short, instead of entertaining him with the lively chatter and broad jokes + in which he delighted, Flore left him to dress alone. If he called her, + she answered from the foot of the staircase, “I can’t do everything at + once; how can I look after your breakfast and wait upon you up there? Are + not you big enough to dress your own self?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear! what have I done to displease her?” the old man asked himself + that morning, as he got one of these rebuffs after calling for his + shaving-water. + </p> + <p> + “Vedie, take up the hot water,” cried Flore. + </p> + <p> + “Vedie!” exclaimed the poor man, stupefied with fear of the anger that was + crushing him. “Vedie, what is the matter with Madame this morning?” + </p> + <p> + Flore Brazier required her master and Vedie and Kouski and Max to call her + Madame. + </p> + <p> + “She seems to have heard something about you which isn’t to your credit,” + answered Vedie, assuming an air of deep concern. “You are doing wrong, + monsieur. I’m only a poor servant-woman, and you may say I have no right + to poke my nose into your affairs; but I do say you may search through all + the women in the world, like that king in holy Scripture, and you won’t + find the equal of Madame. You ought to kiss the ground she steps on. + Goodness! if you make her unhappy, you’ll only spoil your own life. There + she is, poor thing, with her eyes full of tears.” + </p> + <p> + Vedie left the poor man utterly cast down; he dropped into an armchair and + gazed into vacancy like the melancholy imbecile that he was, and forgot to + shave. These alternations of tenderness and severity worked upon this + feeble creature whose only life was through his amorous fibre, the same + morbid effect which great changes from tropical heat to arctic cold + produce upon the human body. It was a moral pleurisy, which wore him out + like a physical disease. Flore alone could thus affect him; for to her, + and to her alone, he was as good as he was foolish. + </p> + <p> + “Well, haven’t you shaved yet?” she said, appearing at his door. + </p> + <p> + Her sudden presence made the old man start violently; and from being pale + and cast down he grew red for an instant, without, however, daring to + complain of her treatment. + </p> + <p> + “Your breakfast is waiting,” she added. “You can come down as you are, in + dressing-gown and slippers; for you’ll breakfast alone, I can tell you.” + </p> + <p> + Without waiting for an answer, she disappeared. To make him breakfast + alone was the punishment he dreaded most; he loved to talk to her as he + ate his meals. When he got to the foot of the staircase he was taken with + a fit of coughing; for emotion excited his catarrh. + </p> + <p> + “Cough away!” said Flore in the kitchen, without caring whether he heard + her or not. “Confound the old wretch! he is able enough to get over it + without bothering others. If he coughs up his soul, it will only be after—” + </p> + <p> + Such were the amenities the Rabouilleuse addressed to Rouget when she was + angry. The poor man sat down in deep distress at a corner of the table in + the middle of the room, and looked at his old furniture and the old + pictures with a disconsolate air. + </p> + <p> + “You might at least have put on a cravat,” said Flore. “Do you think it is + pleasant for people to see such a neck as yours, which is redder and more + wrinkled than a turkey’s?” + </p> + <p> + “But what have I done?” he asked, lifting his big light-green eyes, full + of tears, to his tormentor, and trying to face her hard countenance. + </p> + <p> + “What have you done?” she exclaimed. “As if you didn’t know? Oh, what a + hypocrite! Your sister Agathe—who is as much your sister as I am + sister of the tower of Issoudun, if one’s to believe your father, and who + has no claim at all upon you—is coming here from Paris with her son, + a miserable two-penny painter, to see you.” + </p> + <p> + “My sister and my nephews coming to Issoudun!” he said, bewildered. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes! play the surprised, do; try to make me believe you didn’t send + for them! sewing your lies with white bread, indeed! Don’t fash yourself; + we won’t trouble your Parisians—before they set their feet in this + house, we shall have shaken the dust of it off ours. Max and I will be + gone, never to return. As for your will, I’ll tear it in quarters under + your nose, and to your very beard—do you hear? Leave your property + to your family, if you don’t think we are your family; and then see if + you’ll be loved for yourself by a lot of people who have not seen you for + thirty years,—who in fact have never seen you! Is it that sort of + sister who can take my place? A pinchbeck saint!” + </p> + <p> + “If that’s all, my little Flore,” said the old man, “I won’t receive my + sister, or my nephews. I swear to you this is the first word I have heard + of their coming. It is all got up by that Madame Hochon—a + sanctimonious old—” + </p> + <p> + Max, who had overheard old Rouget’s words, entered suddenly, and said in a + masterful tone,— + </p> + <p> + “What’s all this?” + </p> + <p> + “My good Max,” said the old man, glad to get the protection of the soldier + who, by agreement with Flore, always took his side in a dispute, “I swear + by all that is most sacred, that I now hear this news for the first time. + I have never written to my sister; my father made me promise not to leave + her any of my property; to leave it to the Church sooner than to her. + Well, I won’t receive my sister Agathe to this house, or her sons—” + </p> + <p> + “Your father was wrong, my dear Jean-Jacques, and Madame Brazier is still + more wrong,” answered Max. “Your father no doubt had his reasons, but he + is dead, and his hatred should die with him. Your sister is your sister, + and your nephews are your nephews. You owe it to yourself to welcome them, + and you owe it to us as well. What would people say in Issoudun? Thunder! + I’ve got enough upon my shoulders as it is, without hearing people say + that we shut you up and don’t allow you a will of your own, or that we + influence you against your relations and are trying to get hold of your + property. The devil take me if I don’t pull up stakes and be off, if that + sort of calumny is to be flung at me! the other is bad enough! Let’s eat + our breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + Flore, who was now as mild as a weasel, helped Vedie to set the table. Old + Rouget, full of admiration for Max, took him by both hands and led him + into the recess of a window, saying in a low voice:— + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Max, if I had a son, I couldn’t love him better than I love you. + Flore is right: you two are my real family. You are a man of honor, Max, + and what you have just said is true.” + </p> + <p> + “You ought to receive and entertain your sister and her son, but not + change the arrangements you have made about your property,” said Max. “In + that way you will do what is right in the eyes of the world, and yet keep + your promise to your father.” + </p> + <p> + “Well! my dear loves!” cried Flore, gayly, “the salmi is getting cold. + Come, my old rat, here’s a wing for you,” she said, smiling on + Jean-Jacques. + </p> + <p> + At the words, the long-drawn face of the poor creature lost its cadaverous + tints, the smile of a Theriaki flickered on his pendent lips; but he was + seized with another fit of coughing; for the joy of being taken back to + favor excited as violent an emotion as the punishment itself. Flore rose, + pulled a little cashmere shawl from her own shoulders, and tied it round + the old man’s throat, exclaiming: “How silly to put yourself in such a way + about nothing. There, you old goose, that will do you good; it has been + next my heart—” + </p> + <p> + “What a good creature!” said Rouget to Max, while Flore went to fetch a + black velvet cap to cover the nearly bald head of the old bachelor. + </p> + <p> + “As good as she is beautiful”; answered Max, “but she is quick-tempered, + like all people who carry their hearts in their hands.” + </p> + <p> + The baldness of this sketch may displease some, who will think the flashes + of Flore’s character belong to the sort of realism which a painter ought + to leave in shadow. Well! this scene, played again and again with shocking + variations, is, in its coarse way and its horrible veracity, the type of + such scenes played by women on whatever rung of the social ladder they are + perched, when any interest, no matter what, draws them from their own line + of obedience and induces them to grasp at power. In their eyes, as in + those of politicians, all means to an end are justifiable. Between Flore + Brazier and a duchess, between a duchess and the richest bourgeoise, + between a bourgeoise and the most luxuriously kept mistress, there are no + differences except those of the education they have received, and the + surroundings in which they live. The pouting of a fine lady is the same + thing as the violence of a Rabouilleuse. At all levels, bitter sayings, + ironical jests, cold contempt, hypocritical complaints, false quarrels, + win as much success as the low outbursts of this Madame Everard of + Issoudun. + </p> + <p> + Max began to relate, with much humor, the tale of Fario and his barrow, + which made the old man laugh. Vedie and Kouski, who came to listen, + exploded in the kitchen, and as to Flore, she laughed convulsively. After + breakfast, while Jean-Jacques read the newspapers (for they subscribed to + the “Constitutionel” and the “Pandore”), Max carried Flore to his own + quarters. + </p> + <p> + “Are you quite sure he has not made any other will since the one in which + he left the property to you?” + </p> + <p> + “He hasn’t anything to write with,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “He might have dictated it to some notary,” said Max; “we must look out + for that. Therefore it is well to be cordial to the Bridaus, and at the + same time endeavor to turn those mortgages into money. The notaries will + be only too glad to make the transfers; it is grist to their mill. The + Funds are going up; we shall conquer Spain, and deliver Ferdinand VII. and + the Cortez, and then they will be above par. You and I could make a good + thing out of it by putting the old fellow’s seven hundred and fifty + thousand francs into the Funds at eighty-nine. Only you must try to get it + done in your name; it will be so much secured anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + “A capital idea!” said Flore. + </p> + <p> + “And as there will be an income of fifty thousand francs from eight + hundred and ninety thousand, we must make him borrow one hundred and forty + thousand francs for two years, to be paid back in two instalments. In two + years, we shall get one hundred thousand francs <i>in</i> Paris, and + ninety thousand here, and risk nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “If it were not for you, my handsome Max, what would become of me now?” + she said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! to-morrow night at Mere Cognette’s, after I have seen the Parisians, + I shall find a way to make the Hochons themselves get rid of them.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! what a head you’ve got, my angel! You are a love of a man.” + </p> + <p> + The place Saint-Jean is at the centre of a long street called at the upper + end the rue Grand Narette, and at the lower the rue Petite Narette. The + word “Narette” is used in Berry to express the same lay of the land as the + Genoese word “salita” indicates,—that is to say, a steep street. The + Grand Narette rises rapidly from the place Saint-Jean to the port Vilatte. + The house of old Monsieur Hochon is exactly opposite that of Jean-Jacques + Rouget. From the windows of the room where Madame Hochon usually sat, it + was easy to see what went on at the Rouget household, and vice versa, when + the curtains were drawn back or the doors were left open. The Hochon house + was like the Rouget house, and the two were doubtless built by the same + architect. Monsieur Hochon, formerly tax-collector at Selles in Berry, + born, however, at Issoudun, had returned to his native place and married + the sister of the sub-delegate, the gay Lousteau, exchanging his office at + Selles for another of the same kind at Issoudun. Having retired before + 1787, he escaped the dangers of the Revolution, to whose principles, + however, he firmly adhered, like all other “honest men” who howl with the + winners. Monsieur Hochon came honestly by the reputation of miser, but it + would be mere repetition to sketch him here. A single specimen of the + avarice which made him famous will suffice to make you see Monsieur Hochon + as he was. + </p> + <p> + At the wedding of his daughter, now dead, who married a Borniche, it was + necessary to give a dinner to the Borniche family. The bridegroom, who was + heir to a large fortune, had suffered great mortification from having + mismanaged his property, and still more because his father and mother + refused to help him out. The old people, who were living at the time of + the marriage, were delighted to see Monsieur Hochon step in as guardian,—for + the purpose, of course, of making his daughter’s dowry secure. On the day + of the dinner, which was given to celebrate the signing of the marriage + contract, the chief relations of the two families were assembled in the + salon, the Hochons on one side, the Borniches on the other,—all in + their best clothes. While the contract was being solemnly read aloud by + young Heron, the notary, the cook came into the room and asked Monsieur + Hochon for some twine to truss up the turkey,—an essential feature + of the repast. The old man dove into the pocket of his surtout, pulled out + an end of string which had evidently already served to tie up a parcel, + and gave it to her; but before she could leave the room he called out, + “Gritte, mind you give it back to me!” (Gritte is the abbreviation used in + Berry for Marguerite.) + </p> + <p> + From year to year old Hochon grew more petty in his meanness, and more + penurious; and at this time he was eighty-five years old. He belonged to + the class of men who stop short in the street, in the middle of a lively + dialogue, and stoop to pick up a pin, remarking, as they stick it in the + sleeve of their coat, “There’s the wife’s stipend.” He complained bitterly + of the poor quality of the cloth manufactured now-a-days, and called + attention to the fact that his coat had lasted only ten years. Tall, + gaunt, thin, and sallow; saying little, reading little, and doing nothing + to fatigue himself; as observant of forms as an oriental,—he + enforced in his own house a discipline of strict abstemiousness, weighing + and measuring out the food and drink of the family, which, indeed, was + rather numerous, and consisted of his wife, nee Lousteau, his grandson + Borniche with a sister Adolphine, the heirs of old Borniche, and lastly, + his other grandson, Francois Hochon. + </p> + <p> + Hochon’s eldest son was taken by the draft of 1813, which drew in the sons + of well-to-do families who had escaped the regular conscription, and were + now formed into a corps styled the “guards of honor.” This + heir-presumptive, who was killed at Hanau, had married early in life a + rich woman, intending thereby to escape all conscriptions; but after he + was enrolled, he wasted his substance, under a presentiment of his end. + His wife, who followed the army at a distance, died at Strasburg in 1814, + leaving debts which her father-in-law Hochon refused to pay,—answering + the creditors with an axiom of ancient law, “Women are minors.” + </p> + <p> + The house, though large, was scantily furnished; on the second floor, + however, there were two rooms suitable for Madame Bridau and Joseph. Old + Hochon now repented that he had kept them furnished with two beds, each + bed accompanied by an old armchair of natural wood covered with + needlework, and a walnut table, on which figured a water-pitcher of the + wide-mouthed kind called “gueulard,” standing in a basin with a blue + border. The old man kept his winter store of apples and pears, medlars and + quinces on heaps of straw in these rooms, where the rats and mice ran + riot, so that they exhaled a mingled odor of fruit and vermin. Madame + Hochon now directed that everything should be cleaned; the wall-paper, + which had peeled off in places, was fastened up again with wafers; and she + decorated the windows with little curtains which she pieced together from + old hoards of her own. Her husband having refused to let her buy a strip + of drugget, she laid down her own bedside carpet for her little Agathe,—“Poor + little thing!” as she called the mother, who was now over forty-seven + years old. Madame Hochon borrowed two night-tables from a neighbor, and + boldly hired two chests of drawers with brass handles from a dealer in + second-hand furniture who lived next to Mere Cognette. She herself had + preserved two pairs of candlesticks, carved in choice woods by her own + father, who had the “turning” mania. From 1770 to 1780 it was the fashion + among rich people to learn a trade, and Monsieur Lousteau, the father, was + a turner, just as Louis XVI. was a locksmith. These candlesticks were + ornamented with circlets made of the roots of rose, peach, and apricot + trees. Madame Hochon actually risked the use of her precious relics! These + preparations and this sacrifice increased old Hochon’s anxiety; up to this + time he had not believed in the arrival of the Bridaus. + </p> + <p> + The morning of the day that was celebrated by the trick on Fario, Madame + Hochon said to her husband after breakfast:— + </p> + <p> + “I hope, Hochon, that you will receive my goddaughter, Madame Bridau, + properly.” Then, after making sure that her grandchildren were out of + hearing, she added: “I am mistress of my own property; don’t oblige me to + make up to Agathe in my will for any incivility on your part.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think, madame,” answered Hochon, in a mild voice, “that, at my + age, I don’t know the forms of decent civility?” + </p> + <p> + “You know very well what I mean, you crafty old thing! Be friendly to our + guests, and remember that I love Agathe.” + </p> + <p> + “And you love Maxence Gilet also, who is getting the property away from + your dear Agathe! Ah! you’ve warmed a viper in your bosom there; but after + all, the Rouget money is bound to go to a Lousteau.” + </p> + <p> + After making this allusion to the supposed parentage and both Max and + Agathe, Hochon turned to leave the room; but old Madame Hochon, a woman + still erect and spare, wearing a round cap with ribbon knots and her hair + powdered, a taffet petticoat of changeable colors like a pigeon’s breast, + tight sleeves, and her feet in high-heeled slippers, deposited her + snuff-box on a little table, and said:— + </p> + <p> + “Really, Monsieur Hochon, how can a man of your sense repeat absurdities + which, unhappily, cost my poor friend her peace of mind, and Agathe the + property which she ought to have had from her father. Max Gilet is not the + son of my brother, whom I often advised to save the money he paid for him. + You know as well as I do that Madame Rouget was virtue itself—” + </p> + <p> + “And the daughter takes after her; for she strikes me as uncommonly + stupid. After losing all her fortune, she brings her sons up so well that + here is one in prison and likely to be brought up on a criminal indictment + before the Court of Peers for a conspiracy worthy of Berton. As for the + other, he is worse off; he’s a painter. If your proteges are to stay here + till they have extricated that fool of a Rouget from the claws of Gilet + and the Rabouilleuse, we shall eat a good deal more than half a measure of + salt with them.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s enough, Monsieur Hochon; you had better wish they may not have two + strings to their bow.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Hochon took his hat, and his cane with an ivory knob, and went + away petrified by that terrible speech; for he had no idea that his wife + could show such resolution. Madame Hochon took her prayer-book to read the + service, for her advanced age prevented her from going daily to church; it + was only with difficulty that she got there on Sundays and holidays. Since + receiving her goddaughter’s letter she had added a petition to her usual + prayers, supplicating God to open the eyes of Jean-Jacques Rouget, and to + bless Agathe and prosper the expedition into which she herself had drawn + her. Concealing the fact from her grandchildren, whom she accused of being + “parpaillots,” she had asked the curate to say a mass for Agathe’s success + during a neuvaine which was being held by her granddaughter, Adolphine + Borniche, who thus made her prayers in church by proxy. + </p> + <p> + Adolphine, then eighteen,—who for the last seven years had sewed at + the side of her grandmother in that cold household of monotonous and + methodical customs,—had undertaken her neuvaine all the more + willingly because she hoped to inspire some feeling in Joseph Bridau, in + whom she took the deepest interest because of the monstrosities which her + grandfather attributed in her hearing to the young Parisian. + </p> + <p> + All the old people and sensible people of the town, and the fathers of + families approved of Madame Hochon’s conduct in receiving her goddaughter; + and their good wishes for the latter’s success were in proportion to the + secret contempt with which the conduct of Maxence Gilet had long inspired + them. Thus the news of the arrival of Rouget’s sister and nephew raised + two parties in Issoudun,—that of the higher and older bourgeoisie, + who contented themselves with offering good wishes and in watching events + without assisting them, and that of the Knights of Idleness and the + partisans of Max, who, unfortunately, were capable of committing many + high-handed outrages against the Parisians. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <p> + Agathe and Joseph arrived at the coach-office of the Messageries-Royales + in the place Misere at three o’clock. Though tired with the journey, + Madame Bridau felt her youth revive at sight of her native land, where at + every step she came upon memories and impressions of her girlish days. In + the then condition of public opinion in Issoudun, the arrival of the + Parisians was known all over the town in ten minutes. Madame Hochon came + out upon her doorstep to welcome her godchild, and kissed her as though + she were really a daughter. After seventy-two years of a barren and + monotonous existence, exhibiting in their retrospect the graves of her + three children, all unhappy in their lives, and all dead, she had come to + feel a sort of fictitious motherhood for the young girl whom she had, as + she expressed it, carried in her pouch for sixteen years. Through the + gloom of provincial life the old woman had cherished this early + friendship, this girlish memory, as closely as if Agathe had remained near + her, and she had also taken the deepest interest in Bridau. Agathe was led + in triumph to the salon where Monsieur Hochon was stationed, chilling as a + tepid oven. + </p> + <p> + “Here is Monsieur Hochon; how does he seem to you?” asked his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Precisely the same as when I last saw him,” said the Parisian woman. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! it is easy to see you come from Paris; you are so complimentary,” + remarked the old man. + </p> + <p> + The presentations took place: first, young Baruch Borniche, a tall youth + of twenty-two; then Francois Hochon, twenty-four; and lastly little + Adolphine, who blushed and did not know what to do with her arms; she was + anxious not to seem to be looking at Joseph Bridau, who in his turn was + narrowly observed, though from different points of view, by the two young + men and by old Hochon. The miser was saying to himself, “He is just out of + the hospital; he will be as hungry as a convalescent.” The young men were + saying, “What a head! what a brigand! we shall have our hands full!” + </p> + <p> + “This is my son, the painter; my good Joseph,” said Agathe at last, + presenting the artist. + </p> + <p> + There was an effort in the accent that she put upon the word “good,” which + revealed the mother’s heart, whose thoughts were really in the prison of + the Luxembourg. + </p> + <p> + “He looks ill,” said Madame Hochon; “he is not at all like you.” + </p> + <p> + “No, madame,” said Joseph, with the brusque candor of an artist; “I am + like my father, and very ugly at that.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Hochon pressed Agathe’s hand which she was holding, and glanced at + her as much as to say, “Ah! my child; I understand now why you prefer your + good-for-nothing Philippe.” + </p> + <p> + “I never saw your father, my dear boy,” she said aloud; “it is enough to + make me love you that you are your mother’s son. Besides, you have talent, + so the late Madame Descoings used to write to me; she was the only one of + late years who told me much about you.” + </p> + <p> + “Talent!” exclaimed the artist, “not as yet; but with time and patience I + may win fame and fortune.” + </p> + <p> + “By painting?” said Monsieur Hochon ironically. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Adolphine,” said Madame Hochon, “go and see about dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “Mother,” said Joseph, “I will attend to the trunks which they are + bringing in.” + </p> + <p> + “Hochon,” said the grandmother to Francois, “show the rooms to Monsieur + Bridau.” + </p> + <p> + As the dinner was to be served at four o’clock and it was now only half + past three, Baruch rushed into the town to tell the news of the Bridau + arrival, describe Agathe’s dress, and more particularly to picture Joseph, + whose haggard, unhealthy, and determined face was not unlike the ideal of + a brigand. That evening Joseph was the topic of conversation in all the + households of Issoudun. + </p> + <p> + “That sister of Rouget must have seen a monkey before her son was born,” + said one; “he is the image of a baboon.” + </p> + <p> + “He has the face of a brigand and the eyes of a basilisk.” + </p> + <p> + “All artists are like that.” + </p> + <p> + “They are as wicked as the red ass, and as spiteful as monkeys.” + </p> + <p> + “It is part of their business.” + </p> + <p> + “I have just seen Monsieur Beaussier, and he says he would not like to + meet him in a dark wood; he saw him in the diligence.” + </p> + <p> + “He has got hollows over the eyes like a horse, and he laughs like a + maniac.” + </p> + <p> + “The fellow looks as though he were capable of anything; perhaps it’s his + fault that his brother, a fine handsome man they tell me, has gone to the + bad. Poor Madame Bridau doesn’t seem as if she were very happy with him.” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose we take advantage of his being here, and have our portraits + painted?” + </p> + <p> + The result of all these observations, scattered through the town was, + naturally, to excite curiosity. All those who had the right to visit the + Hochons resolved to call that very night and examine the Parisians. The + arrival of these two persons in the stagnant town was like the falling of + a beam into a community of frogs. + </p> + <p> + After stowing his mother’s things and his own into the two attic chambers, + which he examined as he did so, Joseph took note of the silent house, + where the walls, the stair-case, the wood-work, were devoid of decoration + and humid with frost, and where there was literally nothing beyond the + merest necessaries. He felt the brusque transition from his poetic Paris + to the dumb and arid province; and when, coming downstairs, he chanced to + see Monsieur Hochon cutting slices of bread for each person, he + understood, for the first time in his life, Moliere’s Harpagon. + </p> + <p> + “We should have done better to go to an inn,” he said to himself. + </p> + <p> + The aspect of the dinner confirmed his apprehensions. After a soup whose + watery clearness showed that quantity was more considered than quality, + the bouilli was served, ceremoniously garnished with parsley; the + vegetables, in a dish by themselves, being counted into the items of the + repast. The bouilli held the place of honor in the middle of the table, + accompanied with three other dishes: hard-boiled eggs on sorrel opposite + to the vegetables; then a salad dressed with nut-oil to face little cups + of custard, whose flavoring of burnt oats did service as vanilla, which it + resembles much as coffee made of chiccory resembles mocha. Butter and + radishes, in two plates, were at each end of the table; pickled gherkins + and horse-radish completed the spread, which won Madam Hochon’s + approbation. The good old woman gave a contented little nod when she saw + that her husband had done things properly, for the first day at least. The + old man answered with a glance and a shrug of his shoulders, which it was + easy to translate into— + </p> + <p> + “See the extravagances you force me to commit!” + </p> + <p> + As soon as Monsieur Hochon had, as it were, slivered the bouilli into + slices, about as thick as the sole of a dancing-shoe, that dish was + replaced by another, containing three pigeons. The wine was of the + country, vintage 1811. On a hint from her grandmother, Adolphine had + decorated each end of the table with a bunch of flowers. + </p> + <p> + “At Rome as the Romans do,” thought the artist, looking at the table, and + beginning to eat,—like a man who had breakfasted at Vierzon, at six + o’clock in the morning, on an execrable cup of coffee. When Joseph had + eaten up all his bread and asked for more, Monsieur Hochon rose, slowly + searched in the pocket of his surtout for a key, unlocked a cupboard + behind him, broke off a section of a twelve-pound loaf, carefully cut a + round of it, then divided the round in two, laid the pieces on a plate, + and passed the plate across the table to the young painter, with the + silence and coolness of an old soldier who says to himself on the eve of + battle, “Well, I can meet death.” Joseph took the half-slice, and fully + understood that he was not to ask for any more. No member of the family + was the least surprised at this extraordinary performance. The + conversation went on. Agathe learned that the house in which she was born, + her father’s house before he inherited that of the old Descoings, had been + bought by the Borniches; she expressed a wish to see it once more. + </p> + <p> + “No doubt,” said her godmother, “the Borniches will be here this evening; + we shall have half the town—who want to examine you,” she added, + turning to Joseph, “and they will all invite you to their houses.” + </p> + <p> + Gritte, who in spite of her sixty years, was the only servant of the + house, brought in for dessert the famous ripe cheese of Touraine and + Berry, made of goat’s milk, whose mouldy discolorations so distinctly + reproduce the pattern of the vine-leaves on which it is served, that + Touraine ought to have invented the art of engraving. On either side of + these little cheeses Gritte, with a company air, placed nuts and some + time-honored biscuits. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Gritte, the fruit?” said Madame Hochon. + </p> + <p> + “But, madame, there is none rotten,” answered Gritte. + </p> + <p> + Joseph went off into roars of laughter, as though he were among his + comrades in the atelier; for he suddenly perceived that the parsimony of + eating only the fruits which were beginning to rot had degenerated into a + settled habit. + </p> + <p> + “Bah! we can eat them all the same,” he exclaimed, with the heedless + gayety of a man who will have his say. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Hochon, pray get some,” said the old lady. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Hochon, much incensed at the artist’s speech, fetched some + peaches, pears, and Saint Catherine plums. + </p> + <p> + “Adolphine, go and gather some grapes,” said Madame Hochon to her + granddaughter. + </p> + <p> + Joseph looked at the two young men as much as to say: “Is it to such high + living as this that you owe your healthy faces?” + </p> + <p> + Baruch understood the keen glance and smiled; for he and his cousin Hochon + were behaving with much discretion. The home-life was of less importance + to youths who supped three times the week at Mere Cognette’s. Moreover, + just before dinner, Baruch had received notice that the grand master + convoked the whole Order at midnight for a magnificent supper, in the + course of which a great enterprise would be arranged. The feast of welcome + given by old Hochon to his guests explains how necessary were the + nocturnal repasts at the Cognette’s to two young fellows blessed with good + appetites, who, we may add, never missed any of them. + </p> + <p> + “We will take the liqueur in the salon,” said Madame Hochon, rising and + motioning to Joseph to give her his arm. As they went out before the + others, she whispered to the painter:— + </p> + <p> + “Eh! my poor boy; this dinner won’t give you an indigestion; but I had + hard work to get it for you. It is always Lent here; you will get enough + just to keep life in you, and no more. So you must bear it patiently.” + </p> + <p> + The kind-heartedness of the old woman, who thus drew her own predicament, + pleased the artist. + </p> + <p> + “I have lived fifty years with that man, without ever hearing half-a-dozen + gold pieces chink in my purse,” she went on. “Oh! if I did not hope that + you might save your property, I would never have brought you and your + mother into my prison.” + </p> + <p> + “But how can you survive it?” cried Joseph naively, with the gayety which + a French artist never loses. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you may well ask!” she said. “I pray.” + </p> + <p> + Joseph quivered as he heard the words, which raised the old woman so much + in his estimation that he stepped back a little way to look into her face; + it was radiant with so tender a serenity that he said to her,— + </p> + <p> + “Let me paint your portrait.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” she answered, “I am too weary of life to wish to remain here on + canvas.” + </p> + <p> + Gayly uttering the sad words, she opened a closet, and brought out a flask + containing ratafia, a domestic manufacture of her own, the receipt for + which she obtained from the far-famed nuns to whom is also due the + celebrated cake of Issoudun,—one of the great creations of French + confectionery; which no chef, cook, pastry-cook, or confectioner has ever + been able to reproduce. Monsieur de Riviere, ambassador at Constantinople, + ordered enormous quantities every year for the Seraglio. + </p> + <p> + Adolphine held a lacquer tray on which were a number of little old glasses + with engraved sides and gilt edges; and as her mother filled each of them, + she carried it to the company. + </p> + <p> + “It seems as though my father’s turn were coming round!” exclaimed Agathe, + to whom this immutable provincial custom recalled the scenes of her youth. + </p> + <p> + “Hochon will go to his club presently to read the papers, and we shall + have a little time to ourselves,” said the old lady in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + In fact, ten minutes later, the three women and Joseph were alone in the + salon, where the floor was never waxed, only swept, and the worsted-work + designs in oaken frames with grooved mouldings, and all the other plain + and rather dismal furniture seemed to Madame Bridau to be in exactly the + same state as when she had left Issoudun. Monarchy, Revolution, Empire, + and Restoration, which respected little, had certainly respected this room + where their glories and their disasters had left not the slightest trace. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! my godmother, in comparison with your life, mine has been cruelly + tried,” exclaimed Madame Bridau, surprised to find even a canary which she + had known when alive, stuffed, and standing on the mantleshelf between the + old clock, the old brass brackets, and the silver candlesticks. + </p> + <p> + “My child,” said the old lady, “trials are in the heart. The greater and + more necessary the resignation, the harder the struggle with our own + selves. But don’t speak of me, let us talk of your affairs. You are + directly in front of the enemy,” she added, pointing to the windows of the + Rouget house. + </p> + <p> + “They are sitting down to dinner,” said Adolphine. + </p> + <p> + The young girl, destined for a cloister, was constantly looking out of the + window, in hopes of getting some light upon the enormities imputed to + Maxence Gilet, the Rabouilleuse, and Jean-Jacques, of which a few words + reached her ears whenever she was sent out of the room that others might + talk about them. The old lady now told her granddaughter to leave her + alone with Madame Bridau and Joseph until the arrival of visitors. + </p> + <p> + “For,” she said, turning to the Parisians, “I know my Issoudun by heart; + we shall have ten or twelve batches of inquisitive folk here to-night.” + </p> + <p> + In fact Madame Hochon had hardly related the events and the details + concerning the astounding influence obtained by Maxence Gilet and the + Rabouilleuse over Jean-Jacques Rouget (without, of course, following the + synthetical method with which they have been presented here), adding the + many comments, descriptions, and hypotheses with which the good and evil + tongues of the town embroidered them, before Adolphine announced the + approach of the Borniche, Beaussier, Lousteau-Prangin, Fichet, + Goddet-Herau families; in all, fourteen persons looming in the distance. + </p> + <p> + “You now see, my dear child,” said the old lady, concluding her tale, + “that it will not be an easy matter to get this property out of the jaws + of the wolf—” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me so difficult—with a scoundrel such as you represent + him, and a daring woman like that crab-girl—as to be actually + impossible,” remarked Joseph. “We should have to stay a year in Issoudun + to counteract their influence and overthrow their dominion over my uncle. + Money isn’t worth such a struggle,—not to speak of the meannesses to + which we should have to condescend. My mother has only two weeks’ leave of + absence; her place is a permanent one, and she must not risk it. As for + me, in the month of October I have an important work, which Schinner has + just obtained for me from a peer of France; so you see, madame, my future + fortune is in my brushes.” + </p> + <p> + This speech was received by Madame Hochon with much amazement. Though + relatively superior to the town she lived in, the old lady did not believe + in painting. She glanced at her goddaughter, and again pressed her hand. + </p> + <p> + “This Maxence is the second volume of Philippe,” whispered Joseph in his + mother’s ear, “—only cleverer and better behaved. Well, madame,” he + said, aloud, “we won’t trouble Monsieur Hochon by staying very long.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you are young; you know nothing of the world,” said the old lady. “A + couple of weeks, if you are judicious, may produce great results; listen + to my advice, and act accordingly.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! willingly,” said Joseph, “I know I have a perfectly amazing + incapacity for domestic statesmanship: for example, I am sure I don’t know + what Desroches himself would tell us to do if my uncle declines to see + us.” + </p> + <p> + Mesdames Borniche, Goddet-Herau, Beaussier, Lousteau-Prangin and Fichet, + decorated with their husbands, here entered the room. + </p> + <p> + When the fourteen persons were seated, and the usual compliments were + over, Madame Hochon presented her goddaughter Agathe and Joseph. Joseph + sat in his armchair all the evening, engaged in slyly studying the sixty + faces which, from five o’clock until half past nine, posed for him gratis, + as he afterwards told his mother. Such behavior before the aristocracy of + Issoudun did not tend to change the opinion of the little town concerning + him: every one went home ruffled by his sarcastic glances, uneasy under + his smiles, and even frightened at his face, which seemed sinister to a + class of people unable to recognize the singularities of genius. + </p> + <p> + After ten o’clock, when the household was in bed, Madame Hochon kept her + goddaughter in her chamber until midnight. Secure from interruption, the + two women told each other the sorrows of their lives, and exchanged their + sufferings. As Agathe listened to the last echoes of a soul that had + missed its destiny, and felt the sufferings of a heart, essentially + generous and charitable, whose charity and generosity could never be + exercised, she realized the immensity of the desert in which the powers of + this noble, unrecognized soul had been wasted, and knew that she herself, + with the little joys and interests of her city life relieving the bitter + trials sent from God, was not the most unhappy of the two. + </p> + <p> + “You who are so pious,” she said, “explain to me my shortcomings; tell me + what it is that God is punishing in me.” + </p> + <p> + “He is preparing us, my child,” answered the old woman, “for the striking + of the last hour.” + </p> + <p> + At midnight the Knights of Idleness were collecting, one by one like + shadows, under the trees of the boulevard Baron, and speaking together in + whispers. + </p> + <p> + “What are we going to do?” was the first question of each as he arrived. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said Francois, “that Max means merely to give us a supper.” + </p> + <p> + “No; matters are very serious for him, and for the Rabouilleuse: no doubt, + he has concocted some scheme against the Parisians.” + </p> + <p> + “It would be a good joke to drive them away.” + </p> + <p> + “My grandfather,” said Baruch, “is terribly alarmed at having two extra + mouths to feed, and he’d seize on any pretext—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, comrades!” cried Max softly, now appearing on the scene, “why are + you star-gazing? the planets don’t distil kirschwasser. Come, let us go to + Mere Cognette’s!” + </p> + <p> + “To Mere Cognette’s! To Mere Cognette’s!” they all cried. + </p> + <p> + The cry, uttered as with one voice, produced a clamor which rang through + the town like the hurrah of troops rushing to an assault; total silence + followed. The next day, more than one inhabitant must have said to his + neighbor: “Did you hear those frightful cries last night, about one + o’clock? I thought there was surely a fire somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + A supper worthy of La Cognette brightened the faces of the twenty-two + guests; for the whole Order was present. At two in the morning, as they + were beginning to “siroter” (a word in the vocabulary of the Knights which + admirably expresses the act of sipping and tasting the wine in small + quantities), Max rose to speak:— + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellows! the honor of your grand master was grossly attacked this + morning, after our memorable joke with Fario’s cart,—attacked by a + vile peddler, and what is more, a Spaniard (oh, Cabrera!); and I have + resolved to make the scoundrel feel the weight of my vengeance; always, of + course, within the limits we have laid down for our fun. After reflecting + about it all day, I have found a trick which is worth putting into + execution,—a famous trick, that will drive him crazy. While avenging + the insult offered to the Order in my person, we shall be feeding the + sacred animals of the Egyptians,—little beasts which are, after all, + the creatures of God, and which man unjustly persecutes. Thus we see that + good is the child of evil, and evil is the offspring of good; such is the + paramount law of the universe! I now order you all, on pain of displeasing + your very humble grand master, to procure clandestinely, each one of you, + twenty rats, male or female as heaven pleases. Collect your contingent + within three days. If you can get more, the surplus will be welcome. Keep + the interesting rodents without food; for it is essential that the + delightful little beasts be ravenous with hunger. Please observe that I + will accept both house-mice and field-mice as rats. If we multiply + twenty-two by twenty, we shall have four hundred; four hundred accomplices + let loose in the old church of the Capuchins, where Fario has stored all + his grain, will consume a not insignificant quantity! But be lively about + it! There’s no time to lose. Fario is to deliver most of the grain to his + customers in a week or so; and I am determined that that Spaniard shall + find a terrible deficit. Gentlemen, I have not the merit of this + invention,” continued Max, observing the signs of general admiration. + “Render to Caesar that which is Caesar’s, and to God that which is God’s. + My scheme is only a reproduction of Samson’s foxes, as related in the + Bible. But Samson was an incendiary, and therefore no philanthropist; + while we, like the Brahmins, are the protectors of a persecuted race. + Mademoiselle Flore Brazier has already set all her mouse-traps, and + Kouski, my right-arm, is hunting field-mice. I have spoken.” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” said Goddet, “where to find an animal that’s worth forty rats, + himself alone.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s that?” + </p> + <p> + “A squirrel.” + </p> + <p> + “I offer a little monkey,” said one of the younger members, “he’ll make + himself drunk on wheat.” + </p> + <p> + “Bad, very bad!” exclaimed Max, “it would show who put the beasts there.” + </p> + <p> + “But we might each catch a pigeon some night,” said young Beaussier, + “taking them from different farms; if we put them through a hole in the + roof, they’ll attract thousands of others.” + </p> + <p> + “So, then, for the next week, Fario’s storehouse is the order of the + night,” cried Max, smiling at Beaussier. “Recollect; people get up early + in Saint-Paterne. Mind, too, that none of you go there without turning the + soles of your list shoes backward. Knight Beaussier, the inventor of + pigeons, is made director. As for me, I shall take care to leave my + imprint on the sacks of wheat. Gentlemen, you are, all of you, appointed + to the commissariat of the Army of Rats. If you find a watchman sleeping + in the church, you must manage to make him drunk,—and do it + cleverly,—so as to get him far away from the scene of the Rodents’ + Orgy.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t say anything about the Parisians?” questioned Goddet. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” exclaimed Max, “I want time to study them. Meantime, I offer my best + shotgun—the one the Emperor gave me, a treasure from the manufactory + at Versailles—to whoever finds a way to play the Bridaus a trick + which shall get them into difficulties with Madame and Monsieur Hochon, so + that those worthy old people shall send them off, or they shall be forced + to go of their own accord,—without, understand me, injuring the + venerable ancestors of my two friends here present, Baruch and Francois.” + </p> + <p> + “All right! I’ll think of it,” said Goddet, who coveted the gun. + </p> + <p> + “If the inventor of the trick doesn’t care for the gun, he shall have my + horse,” added Max. + </p> + <p> + After this night twenty brains were tortured to lay a plot against Agathe + and her son, on the basis of Max’s programme. But the devil alone, or + chance, could really help them to success; for the conditions given made + the thing well-nigh impossible. + </p> + <p> + The next morning Agathe and Joseph came downstairs just before the second + breakfast, which took place at ten o’clock. In Monsieur Hochon’s household + the name of first breakfast was given to a cup of milk and slice of bread + and butter which was taken in bed, or when rising. While waiting for + Madame Hochon, who notwithstanding her age went minutely through the + ceremonies with which the duchesses of Louis XV.‘s time performed their + toilette, Joseph noticed Jean-Jacques Rouget planted squarely on his feet + at the door of his house across the street. He naturally pointed him out + to his mother, who was unable to recognize her brother, so little did he + look like what he was when she left him. + </p> + <p> + “That is your brother,” said Adolphine, who entered, giving an arm to her + grandmother. + </p> + <p> + “What an idiot he looks like!” exclaimed Joseph. + </p> + <p> + Agathe clasped her hands, and raised her eyes to heaven. + </p> + <p> + “What a state they have driven him to! Good God! can that be a man only + fifty-seven years old?” + </p> + <p> + She looked attentively at her brother, and saw Flore Brazier standing + directly behind him, with her hair dressed, a pair of snowy shoulders and + a dazzling bosom showing through a gauze neckerchief, which was trimmed + with lace; she was wearing a dress with a tight-fitting waist, made of + grenadine (a silk material then much in fashion), with leg-of-mutton + sleeves so-called, fastened at the wrists by handsome bracelets. A gold + chain rippled over the crab-girl’s bosom as she leaned forward to give + Jean-Jacques his black silk cap lest he should take cold. The scene was + evidently studied. + </p> + <p> + “Hey!” cried Joseph, “there’s a fine woman, and a rare one! She is made, + as they say, to paint. What flesh-tints! Oh, the lovely tones! what + surface! what curves! Ah, those shoulders! She’s a magnificent caryatide. + What a model she would have been for one of Titians’ Venuses!” + </p> + <p> + Adolphine and Madame Hochon thought he was talking Greek; but Agathe + signed to them behind his back, as if to say that she was accustomed to + such jargon. + </p> + <p> + “So you think a creature who is depriving you of your property handsome?” + said Madame Hochon. + </p> + <p> + “That doesn’t prevent her from being a splendid model!—just plump + enough not to spoil the hips and the general contour—” + </p> + <p> + “My son, you are not in your studio,” said Agathe. “Adolphine is here.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, true! I did wrong. But you must remember that ever since leaving + Paris I have seen nothing but ugly women—” + </p> + <p> + “My dear godmother,” said Agathe hastily, “how shall I be able to meet my + brother, if that creature is always with him?” + </p> + <p> + “Bah!” said Joseph. “I’ll go and see him myself. I don’t think him such an + idiot, now I find he has the sense to rejoice his eyes with a Titian’s + Venus.” + </p> + <p> + “If he were not an idiot,” said Monsieur Hochon, who had come in, “he + would have married long ago and had children; and then you would have no + chance at the property. It is an ill wind that blows no good.” + </p> + <p> + “Your son’s idea is very good,” said Madame Hochon; “he ought to pay the + first visit. He can make his uncle understand that if you call there he + must be alone.” + </p> + <p> + “That will affront Mademoiselle Brazier,” said old Hochon. “No, no, + madame; swallow the pill. If you can’t get the whole property, secure a + small legacy.” + </p> + <p> + The Hochons were not clever enough to match Max. In the middle of + breakfast Kouski brought over a letter from Monsieur Rouget, addressed to + his sister, Madame Bridau. Madame Hochon made her husband read it aloud, + as follows:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My dear Sister,—I learn from strangers of your arrival in + Issoudun. I can guess the reason which made you prefer the house + of Monsieur and Madame Hochon to mine; but if you will come to see + me you shall be received as you ought to be. I should certainly + pay you the first visit if my health did not compel me just now to + keep the house; for which I offer my affectionate regrets. I shall + be delighted to see my nephew, whom I invite to dine with me + to-morrow,—young men are less sensitive than women about the + company. It will give me pleasure if Messrs. Baruch Borniche and + Francois Hochon will accompany him. + + Your affectionate brother, + + J.-J. Rouget. +</pre> + <p> + “Say that we are at breakfast, but that Madame Bridau will send an answer + presently, and the invitations are all accepted,” said Monsieur Hochon to + the servant. + </p> + <p> + The old man laid a finger on his lips, to require silence from everybody. + When the street-door was shut, Monsieur Hochon, little suspecting the + intimacy between his grandsons and Max, threw one of his slyest looks at + his wife and Agathe, remarking,— + </p> + <p> + “He is just as capable of writing that note as I am of giving away + twenty-five louis; it is the soldier who is corresponding with us!” + </p> + <p> + “What does that portend?” asked Madame Hochon. “Well, never mind; we will + answer him. As for you, monsieur,” she added, turning to Joseph, “you must + dine there; but if—” + </p> + <p> + The old lady was stopped short by a look from her husband. Knowing how + warm a friendship she felt for Agathe, old Hochon was in dread lest she + should leave some legacy to her goddaughter in case the latter lost the + Rouget property. Though fifteen years older than his wife, the miser hoped + to inherit her fortune, and to become eventually the sole master of their + whole property. That hope was a fixed idea with him. Madame Hochon knew + that the best means of obtaining a few concessions from her husband was to + threaten him with her will. Monsieur Hochon now took sides with his + guests. An enormous fortune was at stake; with a sense of social justice, + he wished it to go to the natural heirs, instead of being pillaged by + unworthy outsiders. Moreover, the sooner the matter was decided, the + sooner he should get rid of his guests. Now that the struggle between the + interlopers and the heirs, hitherto existing only in his wife’s mind, had + become an actual fact, Monsieur Hochon’s keen intelligence, lulled to + sleep by the monotony of provincial life, was fully roused. Madame Hochon + had been agreeably surprised that morning to perceive, from a few + affectionate words which the old man had said to her about Agathe, that so + able and subtle an auxiliary was on the Bridau side. + </p> + <p> + Towards midday the brains of Monsieur and Madame Hochon, of Agathe, and + Joseph (the latter much amazed at the scrupulous care of the old people in + the choice of words), were delivered of the following answer, concocted + solely for the benefit of Max and Flore:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My dear Brother,—If I have stayed away from Issoudun, and kept up + no intercourse with any one, not even with you, the fault lies not + merely with the strange and false ideas my father conceived about + me, but with the joys and sorrows of my life in Paris; for if God + made me a happy wife, he has also deeply afflicted me as a mother. + You are aware that my son, your nephew Philippe, lies under + accusation of a capital offence in consequence of his devotion to + the Emperor. Therefore you can hardly be surprised if a widow, + compelled to take a humble situation in a lottery-office for a + living, should come to seek consolation from those among whom she + was born. + + The profession adopted by the son who accompanies me is one that + requires great talent, many sacrifices, and prolonged studies + before any results can be obtained. Glory for an artist precedes + fortune; is not that to say that Joseph, though he may bring honor + to the family, will still be poor? Your sister, my dear + Jean-Jacques, would have borne in silence the penalties of paternal + injustice, but you will pardon a mother for reminding you that you + have two nephews; one of whom carried the Emperor’s orders at the + battle of Montereau and served in the Guard at Waterloo, and is + now in prison for his devotion to Napoleon; the other, from his + thirteenth year, has been impelled by natural gifts to enter a + difficult though glorious career. + + I thank you for your letter, my dear brother, with heart-felt + warmth, for my own sake, and also for Joseph’s, who will certainly + accept your invitation. Illness excuses everything, my dear + Jean-Jacques, and I shall therefore go to see you in your own house. + A sister is always at home with a brother, no matter what may be the + life he has adopted. + + I embrace you tenderly. + + Agathe Rouget +</pre> + <p> + “There’s the matter started. Now, when you see him,” said Monsieur Hochon + to Agathe, “you must speak plainly to him about his nephews.” + </p> + <p> + The letter was carried over by Gritte, who returned ten minutes later to + render an account to her masters of all that she had seen and heard, + according to a settled provincial custom. + </p> + <p> + “Since yesterday Madame has had the whole house cleaned up, which she left—” + </p> + <p> + “Whom do you mean by Madame?” asked old Hochon. + </p> + <p> + “That’s what they call the Rabouilleuse over there,” answered Gritte. “She + left the salon and all Monsieur Rouget’s part of the house in a pitiable + state; but since yesterday the rooms have been made to look like what they + were before Monsieur Maxence went to live there. You can see your face on + the floors. La Vedie told me that Kouski went off on horseback at five + o’clock this morning, and came back at nine, bringing provisions. It is + going to be a grand dinner!—a dinner fit for the archbishop of + Bourges! There’s a fine bustle in the kitchen, and they are as busy as + bees. The old man says, ‘I want to do honor to my nephew,’ and he pokes + his nose into everything. It appears <i>the Rougets</i> are highly + flattered by the letter. Madame came and told me so. Oh! she had on such a + dress! I never saw anything so handsome in my life. Two diamonds in her + ears!—two diamonds that cost, Vedie told me, three thousand francs + apiece; and such lace! rings on her fingers, and bracelets! you’d think + she was a shrine; and a silk dress as fine as an altar-cloth. So then she + said to me, ‘Monsieur is delighted to find his sister so amiable, and I + hope she will permit us to pay her all the attention she deserves. We + shall count on her good opinion after the welcome we mean to give her son. + Monsieur is very impatient to see his nephew.’ Madame had little black + satin slippers; and her stockings! my! they were marvels,—flowers in + silk and openwork, just like lace, and you could see her rosy little feet + through them. Oh! she’s in high feather, and she had a lovely little apron + in front of her which, Vedie says, cost more than two years of our wages + put together.” + </p> + <p> + “Well done! We shall have to dress up,” said the artist laughing. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of all this, Monsieur Hochon?” said the old lady when + Gritte had departed. + </p> + <p> + Madame Hochon made Agathe observe her husband, who was sitting with his + head in his hands, his elbows on the arms of his chair, plunged in + thought. + </p> + <p> + “You have to do with a Maitre Bonin!” said the old man at last. “With your + ideas, young man,” he added, looking at Joseph, “you haven’t force enough + to struggle with a practised scoundrel like Maxence Gilet. No matter what + I say to you, you will commit some folly. But, at any rate, tell me + everything you see, and hear, and do to-night. Go, and God be with you! + Try to get alone with your uncle. If, in spite of all your genius, you + can’t manage it, that in itself will throw some light upon their scheme. + But if you do get a moment alone with him, out of ear-shot, damn it, you + must pull the wool from his eyes as to the situation those two have put + him in, and plead your mother’s cause.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <p> + At four o’clock, Joseph crossed the open space which separated the Rouget + house from the Hochon house,—a sort of avenue of weakly lindens, two + hundred feet long and of the same width as the rue Grande Narette. When + the nephew arrived, Kouski, in polished boots, black cloth trousers, white + waistcoat, and black coat, announced him. The table was set in the large + hall, and Joseph, who easily distinguished his uncle, went up to him, + kissed him, and bowed to Flore and Max. + </p> + <p> + “We have not seen each other since I came into the world, my dear uncle,” + said the painter gayly; “but better late than never.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very welcome, my friend,” said the old man, looking at his nephew + in a dull way. + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” Joseph said to Flore with an artist’s vivacity, “this morning I + was envying my uncle the pleasure he enjoys in being able to admire you + every day.” + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t she beautiful?” said the old man, whose dim eyes began to shine. + </p> + <p> + “Beautiful enough to be the model of a great painter.” + </p> + <p> + “Nephew,” said Rouget, whose elbow Flore was nudging, “this is Monsieur + Maxence Gilet; a man who served the Emperor, like your brother, in the + Imperial Guard.” + </p> + <p> + Joseph rose, and bowed. + </p> + <p> + “Your brother was in the dragoons, I believe,” said Maxence. “I was only a + dust-trotter.” + </p> + <p> + “On foot or on horseback,” said Flore, “you both of you risked your + skins.” + </p> + <p> + Joseph took note of Max quite as much as Max took note of Joseph. Max, who + got his clothes from Paris, was dressed as the young dandies of that day + dressed themselves. A pair of light-blue cloth trousers, made with very + full plaits, covered his feet so that only the toes and the spurs of his + boots were seen. His waist was pinched in by a white waistcoat with chased + gold buttons, which was laced behind to serve as a belt. The waistcoat, + buttoned to the throat, showed off his broad chest, and a black satin + stock obliged him to hold his head high, in soldierly fashion. A handsome + gold chain hung from a waistcoat pocket, in which the outline of a flat + watch was barely seen. He was twisting a watch-key of the kind called a + “criquet,” which Breguet had lately invented. + </p> + <p> + “The fellow is fine-looking,” thought Joseph, admiring with a painter’s + eye the eager face, the air of strength, and the intellectual gray eyes + which Max had inherited from his father, the noble. “My uncle must be a + fearful bore, and that handsome girl takes her compensations. It is a + triangular household; I see that.” + </p> + <p> + At this instant, Baruch and Francois entered. + </p> + <p> + “Have you been to see the tower of Issoudun?” Flore asked Joseph. “No? + then if you would like to take a little walk before dinner, which will not + be served for an hour, we will show you the great curiosity of the town.” + </p> + <p> + “Gladly,” said the artist, quite incapable of seeing the slightest + impropriety in so doing. + </p> + <p> + While Flore went to put on her bonnet, gloves, and cashmere shawl, Joseph + suddenly jumped up, as if an enchanter had touched him with his wand, to + look at the pictures. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you have pictures, indeed, uncle!” he said, examining the one that + had caught his eye. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered the old man. “They came to us from the Descoings, who + bought them during the Revolution, when the convents and churches in Berry + were dismantled.” + </p> + <p> + Joseph was not listening; he was lost in admiration of the pictures. + </p> + <p> + “Magnificent!” he cried. “Oh! what painting! that fellow didn’t spoil his + canvas. Dear, dear! better and better, as it is at Nicolet’s—” + </p> + <p> + “There are seven or eight very large ones up in the garret, which were + kept on account of the frames,” said Gilet. + </p> + <p> + “Let me see them!” cried the artist; and Max took him upstairs. + </p> + <p> + Joseph came down wildly enthusiastic. Max whispered a word to the + Rabouilleuse, who took the old man into the embrasure of a window, where + Joseph heard her say in a low voice, but still so that he could hear the + words:— + </p> + <p> + “Your nephew is a painter; you don’t care for those pictures; be kind, and + give them to him.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems,” said Jean-Jacques, leaning on Flore’s arm to reach the place + were Joseph was standing in ecstasy before an Albano, “—it seems + that you are a painter—” + </p> + <p> + “Only a ‘rapin,’” said Joseph. + </p> + <p> + “What may that be?” asked Flore. + </p> + <p> + “A beginner,” replied Joseph. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” continued Jean-Jacques, “if these pictures can be of any use to + you in your business, I give them to you,—but without the frames. + Oh! the frames are gilt, and besides, they are very funny; I will put—” + </p> + <p> + “Well done, uncle!” cried Joseph, enchanted; “I’ll make you copies of the + same dimensions, which you can put into the frames.” + </p> + <p> + “But that will take your time, and you will want canvas and colors,” said + Flore. “You will have to spend money. Come, Pere Rouget, offer your nephew + a hundred francs for each copy; here are twenty-seven pictures, and I + think there are eleven very big ones in the garret which ought to cost + double,—call the whole four thousand francs. Oh, yes,” she went on, + turning to Joseph, “your uncle can well afford to pay you four thousand + francs for making the copies, since he keeps the frames—but bless + me! you’ll want frames; and they say frames cost more than pictures; + there’s more gold on them. Answer, monsieur,” she continued, shaking the + old man’s arm. “Hein? it isn’t dear; your nephew will take four thousand + francs for new pictures in the place of the old ones. It is,” she + whispered in his ear, “a very good way to give him four thousand francs; + he doesn’t look to me very flush—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, nephew, I will pay you four thousand francs for the copies—” + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” said the honest Joseph; “four thousand francs and the pictures, + that’s too much; the pictures, don’t you see, are valuable—” + </p> + <p> + “Accept, simpleton!” said Flore; “he is your uncle, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, I accept,” said Joseph, bewildered by the luck that had + befallen him; for he had recognized a Perugino. + </p> + <p> + The result was that the artist beamed with satisfaction as he went out of + the house with the Rabouilleuse on his arm, all of which helped Maxence’s + plans immensely. Neither Flore, nor Rouget, nor Max, nor indeed any one in + Issoudun knew the value of the pictures, and the crafty Max thought he had + bought Flore’s triumph for a song, as she paraded triumphantly before the + eyes of the astonished town, leaning on the arm of her master’s nephew, + and evidently on the best of terms with him. People flocked to their doors + to see the crab-girl’s triumph over the family. This astounding event made + the sensation on which Max counted; so that when they all returned at five + o’clock, nothing was talked of in every household but the cordial + understanding between Max and Flore and the nephew of old Rouget. The + incident of the pictures and the four thousand francs circulated already. + The dinner, at which Lousteau, one of the court judges, and the Mayor of + Issoudun were present, was splendid. It was one of those provincial + dinners lasting five hours. The most exquisite wines enlivened the + conversation. By nine o’clock, at dessert, the painter, seated opposite to + his uncle, and between Flore and Max, had fraternized with the soldier, + and thought him the best fellow on earth. Joseph returned home at eleven + o’clock somewhat tipsy. As to old Rouget, Kouski had carried him to his + bed dead-drunk; he had eaten as though he were an actor from foreign + parts, and had soaked up the wine like the sands of the desert. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Max when he was alone with Flore, “isn’t this better than + making faces at them? The Bridaus are well received, they get small + presents, and are smothered with attentions, and the end of it is they + will sing our praises; they will go away satisfied and leave us in peace. + To-morrow morning you and I and Kouski will take down all those pictures + and send them over to the painter, so that he shall see them when he wakes + up. We will put the frames in the garret, and cover the walls with one of + those varnished papers which represent scenes from Telemachus, such as I + have seen at Monsieur Mouilleron’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that will be much prettier!” said Flore. + </p> + <p> + On the morrow, Joseph did not wake up till midday. From his bed he saw the + pictures, which had been brought in while he was asleep, leaning one + against another on the opposite wall. While he examined them anew, + recognizing each masterpiece, studying the manner of each painter, and + searching for the signature, his mother had gone to see and thank her + brother, urged thereto by old Hochon, who, having heard of the follies the + painter had committed the night before, almost despaired of the Bridau + cause. + </p> + <p> + “Your adversaries have the cunning of foxes,” he said to Agathe. “In all + my days I never saw a man carry things with such a high hand as that + soldier; they say war educates young men! Joseph has let himself be + fooled. They have shut his mouth with wine, and those miserable pictures, + and four thousand francs! Your artist hasn’t cost Maxence much!” + </p> + <p> + The long-headed old man instructed Madame Bridau carefully as to the line + of conduct she ought to pursue,—advising her to enter into Maxence’s + ideas and cajole Flore, so as to set up a sort of intimacy with her, and + thus obtain a few moments’ interview with Jean-Jacques alone. Madame + Bridau was very warmly received by her brother, to whom Flore had taught + his lesson. The old man was in bed, quite ill from the excesses of the + night before. As Agathe, under the circumstances, could scarcely begin at + once to speak of family matters, Max thought it proper and magnanimous to + leave the brother and sister alone together. The calculation was a good + one. Poor Agathe found her brother so ill that she would not deprive him + of Madame Brazier’s care. + </p> + <p> + “Besides,” she said to the old bachelor, “I wish to know a person to whom + I am grateful for the happiness of my brother.” + </p> + <p> + These words gave evident pleasure to the old man, who rang for Madame + Flore. Flore, as we may well believe, was not far off. The female + antagonists bowed to each other. The Rabouilleuse showed the most servile + attentions and the utmost tenderness to her master; fancied his head was + too low, beat up the pillows, and took care of him like a bride of + yesterday. The poor creature received it with a rush of feeling. + </p> + <p> + “We owe you much gratitude, mademoiselle,” said Agathe, “for the proofs of + attachment you have so long given to my brother, and for the way in which + you watch over his happiness.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true, my dear Agathe,” said the old man; “she has taught me what + happiness is; she is a woman of excellent qualities.” + </p> + <p> + “And therefore, my dear brother, you ought to have recompensed + Mademoiselle by making her your wife. Yes! I am too sincere in my religion + not to wish to see you obey the precepts of the church. You would each be + more tranquil in mind if you were not at variance with morality and the + laws. I have come here, dear brother, to ask for help in my affliction; + but do not suppose that we wish to make any remonstrance as to the manner + in which you may dispose of your property—” + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” said Flore, “we know how unjust your father was to you. + Monsieur, here, can tell you,” she went on, looking fixedly at her victim, + “that the only quarrels we have ever had were about you. I have always + told him that he owes you part of the fortune he received from his father, + and your father, my benefactor,—for he was my benefactor,” she added + in a tearful voice; “I shall ever remember him! But your brother, madame, + has listened to reason—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the old man, “when I make my will you shall not be forgotten.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t talk of these things, my dear brother; you do not yet know my + nature.” + </p> + <p> + After such a beginning, it is easy to imagine how the visit went on. + Rouget invited his sister to dinner on the next day but one. + </p> + <p> + We may here mention that during these three days the Knights of Idleness + captured an immense quantity of rats and mice, which were kept + half-famished until they were let loose in the grain one fine night, to + the number of four hundred and thirty-six, of which some were breeding + mothers. Not content with providing Fario’s store-house with these + boarders, the Knights made holes in the roof of the old church and put in + a dozen pigeons, taken from as many different farms. These four-footed and + feathered creatures held high revels,—all the more securely because + the watchman was enticed away by a fellow who kept him drunk from morning + till night, so that he took no care of his master’s property. + </p> + <p> + Madame Bridau believed, contrary to the opinion of old Hochon, that her + brother had as yet made no will; she intended asking him what were his + intentions respecting Mademoiselle Brazier, as soon as she could take a + walk with him alone,—a hope which Flore and Maxence were always + holding out to her, and, of course, always disappointing. + </p> + <p> + Meantime the Knights were searching for a way to put the Parisians to + flight, and finding none that were not impracticable follies. + </p> + <p> + At the end of a week—half the time the Parisians were to stay in + Issoudun—the Bridaus were no farther advanced in their object than + when they came. + </p> + <p> + “Your lawyer does not understand the provinces,” said old Hochon to Madame + Bridau. “What you have come to do can’t be done in two weeks, nor in two + years; you ought never to leave your brother, but live here and try to + give him some ideas of religion. You cannot countermine the fortifications + of Flore and Maxence without getting a priest to sap them. That is my + advice, and it is high time to set about it.” + </p> + <p> + “You certainly have very singular ideas about the clergy,” said Madame + Hochon to her husband. + </p> + <p> + “Bah!” exclaimed the old man, “that’s just like you pious women.” + </p> + <p> + “God would never bless an enterprise undertaken in a sacrilegious spirit,” + said Madame Bridau. “Use religion for such a purpose! Why, we should be + more criminal than Flore.” + </p> + <p> + This conversation took place at breakfast,—Francois and Baruch + listening with all their ears. + </p> + <p> + “Sacrilege!” exclaimed old Hochon. “If some good abbe, keen as I have + known many of them to be, knew what a dilemma you are in, he would not + think it sacrilege to bring your brother’s lost soul back to God, and call + him to repentance for his sins, by forcing him to send away the woman who + causes the scandal (with a proper provision, of course), and showing him + how to set his conscience at rest by giving a few thousand francs a year + to the seminary of the archbishop and leaving his property to the rightful + heirs.” + </p> + <p> + The passive obedience which the old miser had always exacted from his + children, and now from his grandchildren (who were under his guardianship + and for whom he was amassing a small fortune, doing for them, he said, + just as he would for himself), prevented Baruch and Francois from showing + signs of surprise or disapproval; but they exchanged significant glances + expressing how dangerous and fatal such a scheme would be to Max’s + interest. + </p> + <p> + “The fact is, madame,” said Baruch, “that if you want to secure your + brother’s property, the only sure and true way will be to stay in Issoudun + for the necessary length of time—” + </p> + <p> + “Mother,” said Joseph hastily, “you had better write to Desroches about + all this. As for me, I ask nothing more than what my uncle has already + given me.” + </p> + <p> + After fully recognizing the great value of his thirty-nine pictures, + Joseph had carefully unnailed the canvases and fastened paper over them, + gumming it at the edges with ordinary glue; he then laid them one above + another in an enormous wooden box, which he sent to Desroches by the + carrier’s waggon, proposing to write him a letter about it by post. The + precious freight had been sent off the night before. + </p> + <p> + “You are satisfied with a pretty poor bargain,” said Monsieur Hochon. + </p> + <p> + “I can easily get a hundred and fifty thousand francs for those pictures,” + replied Joseph. + </p> + <p> + “Painter’s nonsense!” exclaimed old Hochon, giving Joseph a peculiar look. + </p> + <p> + “Mother,” said Joseph, “I am going to write to Desroches and explain to + him the state of things here. If he advises you to remain, you had better + do so. As for your situation, we can always find you another like it.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Joseph,” said Madame Hochon, following him as he left the table, + “I don’t know anything about your uncle’s pictures, but they ought to be + good, judging by the places from which they came. If they are worth only + forty thousand francs,—a thousand francs apiece,—tell no one. + Though my grandsons are discreet and well-behaved, they might, without + intending harm, speak of this windfall; it would be known all over + Issoudun; and it is very important that our adversaries should not suspect + it. You behave like a child!” + </p> + <p> + In fact, before evening many persons in Issoudun, including Max, were + informed of this estimate, which had the immediate effect of causing a + search for all the old paintings which no one had ever cared for, and the + appearance of many execrable daubs. Max repented having driven the old man + into giving away the pictures, and the rage he felt against the heirs + after hearing from Baruch old Hochon’s ecclesiastical scheme, was + increased by what he termed his own stupidity. The influence of religion + upon such a feeble creature as Rouget was the one thing to fear. The news + brought by his two comrades decided Maxence Gilet to turn all Rouget’s + investments into money, and to borrow upon his landed property, so as to + buy into the Funds as soon as possible; but he considered it even more + important to get rid of the Parisians at once. The genius of the + Mascarilles and Scapins out together would hardly have solved the latter + problem easily. + </p> + <p> + Flore, acting by Max’s advice, pretended that Monsieur was too feeble to + take walks, and that he ought, at his age, to have a carriage. This + pretext grew out of the necessity of not exciting inquiry when they went + to Bourges, Vierzon, Chateauroux, Vatan, and all the other places where + the project of withdrawing investments obliged Max and Flore to betake + themselves with Rouget. At the close of the week, all Issoudun was amazed + to learn that the old man had gone to Bourges to buy a carriage,—a + step which the Knights of Idleness regarded as favorable to the + Rabouilleuse. Flore and Max selected a hideous “berlingot,” with cracked + leather curtains and windows without glass, aged twenty-two years and nine + campaigns, sold on the decease of a colonel, the friend of grand-marshal + Bertrand, who, during the absence of that faithful companion of the + Emperor, was left in charge of the affairs of Berry. This “berlingot,” + painted bright green, was somewhat like a caleche, though shafts had taken + the place of a pole, so that it could be driven with one horse. It + belonged to a class of carriages brought into vogue by diminished + fortunes, which at that time bore the candid name of “demi-fortune”; at + its first introduction it was called a “seringue.” The cloth lining of + this demi-fortune, sold under the name of caleche, was moth-eaten; its + gimps looked like the chevrons of an old Invalide; its rusty joints + squeaked,—but it only cost four hundred and fifty francs; and Max + bought a good stout mare, trained to harness, from an officer of a + regiment then stationed at Bourges. He had the carriage repainted a dark + brown, and bought a tolerable harness at a bargain. The whole town of + Issoudun was shaken to its centre in expectation of Pere Rouget’s + equipage; and on the occasion of its first appearance, every household was + on its door-step and curious faces were at all the windows. + </p> + <p> + The second time the old bachelor went out he drove to Bourges, where, to + escape the trouble of attending personally to the business, or, if you + prefer it, being ordered to do so by Flore, he went before a notary and + signed a power of attorney in favor of Maxence Gilet, enabling him to make + all the transfers enumerated in the document. Flore reserved to herself + the business of making Monsieur sell out the investments in Issoudun and + its immediate neighborhood. The principal notary in Bourges was requested + by Rouget to get him a loan of one hundred and forty thousand francs on + his landed estate. Nothing was known at Issoudun of these proceedings, + which were secretly and cleverly carried out. Maxence, who was a good + rider, went with his own horse to Bourges and back between five in the + morning and five in the afternoon. Flore never left the old bachelor. + Rouget consented without objection to the action Flore dictated to him; + but he insisted that the investment in the Funds, producing fifty thousand + francs a year, should stand in Flore’s name as holding a life-interest + only, and in his as owner of the principal. The tenacity the old man + displayed in the domestic disputes which this idea created caused Max a + good deal of anxiety; he thought he could see the result of reflections + inspired by the sight of the natural heirs. + </p> + <p> + Amid all these movements, which Max concealed from the knowledge of + everyone, he forgot the Spaniard and his granary. Fario came back to + Issoudun to deliver his corn, after various trips and business manoeuvres + undertaken to raise the price of cereals. The morning after his arrival he + noticed that the roof the church of the Capuchins was black with pigeons. + He cursed himself for having neglected to examine its condition, and + hurried over to look into his storehouse, where he found half his grain + devoured. Thousands of mice-marks and rat-marks scattered about showed a + second cause of ruin. The church was a Noah’s-ark. But anger turned the + Spaniard white as a bit of cambric when, trying to estimate the extent of + the destruction and his consequence losses, he noticed that the grain at + the bottom of the heap, near the floor, was sprouting from the effects of + water, which Max had managed to introduce by means of tin tubes into the + very centre of the pile of wheat. The pigeons and the rats could be + explained by animal instinct; but the hand of man was plainly visible in + this last sign of malignity. + </p> + <p> + Fario sat down on the steps of a chapel altar, holding his head between + his hands. After half an hour of Spanish reflections, he spied the + squirrel, which Goddet could not refrain from giving him as a guest, + playing with its tail upon a cross-beam, on the middle of which rested one + of the uprights that supported the roof. The Spaniard rose and turned to + his watchman with a face that was as calm and cold as an Arab’s. He made + no complaint, but went home, hired laborers to gather into sacks what + remained of the sound grain, and to spread in the sun all that was moist, + so as to save as much as possible; then, after estimating that his losses + amounted to about three fifths, he attended to filling his orders. But his + previous manipulations of the market had raised the price of cereals, and + he lost on the three fifths he was obliged to buy to fill his orders; so + that his losses amounted really to more than half. The Spaniard, who had + no enemies, at once attributed this revenge to Gilet. He was convinced + that Maxence and some others were the authors of all the nocturnal + mischief, and had in all probability carried his cart up the embankment of + the tower, and now intended to amuse themselves by ruining him. It was a + matter to him of over three thousand francs,—very nearly the whole + capital he had scraped together since the peace. Driven by the desire for + vengeance, the man now displayed the cunning and stealthy persistence of a + detective to whom a large reward is offered. Hiding at night in different + parts of Issoudun, he soon acquired proof of the proceedings of the + Knights of Idleness; he saw them all, counted them, watched their + rendezvous, and knew of their suppers at Mere Cognette’s; after that he + lay in wait to witness one of their deeds, and thus became well informed + as to their nocturnal habits. + </p> + <p> + In spite of Max’s journeys and pre-occupations, he had no intention of + neglecting his nightly employments,—first, because he did not wish + his comrades to suspect the secret of his operations with Pere Rouget’s + property; and secondly, to keep the Knights well in hand. They were + therefore convened for the preparation of a prank which might deserve to + be talked of for years to come. Poisoned meat was to be thrown on a given + night to every watch-dog in the town and in the environs. Fario overheard + them congratulating each other, as they came out from a supper at the + Cognettes’, on the probable success of the performance, and laughing over + the general mourning that would follow this novel massacre of the + innocents,—revelling, moreover, in the apprehensions it would excite + as to the sinister object of depriving all the households of their + guardian watch-dogs. + </p> + <p> + “It will make people forget Fario’s cart,” said Goddet. + </p> + <p> + Fario did not need that speech to confirm his suspicions; besides, his + mind was already made up. + </p> + <p> + After three weeks’ stay in Issoudun, Agathe was convinced, and so was + Madame Hochon, of the truth of the old miser’s observation, that it would + take years to destroy the influence which Max and the Rabouilleuse had + acquired over her brother. She had made no progress in Jean-Jacques’s + confidence, and she was never left alone with him. On the other hand, + Mademoiselle Brazier triumphed openly over the heirs by taking Agathe to + drive in the caleche, sitting beside her on the back seat, while Monsieur + Rouget and his nephew occupied the front. Mother and son impatiently + awaited an answer to the confidential letter they had written to + Desroches. The day before the night on which the dogs were to be poisoned, + Joseph, who was nearly bored to death in Issoudun, received two letters: + the first from the great painter Schinner,—whose age allowed him a + closer intimacy than Joseph could have with Gros, their master,—and + the second from Desroches. + </p> + <p> + Here is the first, postmarked Beaumont-sur-Oise:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My dear Joseph,—I have just finished the principal + panel-paintings at the chateau de Presles for the Comte de Serizy. + I have left all the mouldings and the decorative painting; and I + have recommended you so strongly to the count, and also to Gridot + the architect, that you have nothing to do but pick up your + brushes and come at once. Prices are arranged to please you. I am + off to Italy with my wife; so you can have Mistigris to help you + along. The young scamp has talent, and I put him at your disposal. + He is twittering like a sparrow at the very idea of amusing + himself at the chateau de Presles. + + Adieu, my dear Joseph; if I am still absent, and should send + nothing to next year’s Salon, you must take my place. Yes, dear + Jojo, I know your picture is a masterpiece, but a masterpiece + which will rouse a hue and cry about romanticism; you are doomed + to lead the life of a devil in holy water. Adieu. + + Thy friend, + + Schinner +</pre> + <p> + Here follows the letter of Desroches:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My dear Joseph,—Your Monsieur Hochon strikes me as an old man + full of common-sense, and you give me a high idea of his methods; + he is perfectly right. My advice, since you ask it, is that your + mother should remain at Issoudun with Madame Hochon, paying a + small board,—say four hundred francs a year,—to reimburse her + hosts for what she eats. Madame Bridau ought, in my opinion, to + follow Monsieur Hochon’s advice in everything; for your excellent + mother will have many scruples in dealing with persons who have no + scruple at all, and whose behavior to her is a master-stroke of + policy. That Maxence, you are right enough, is dangerous. He is + another Philippe, but of a different calibre. The scoundrel makes + his vices serve his fortunes, and gets his amusement gratis; + whereas your brother’s follies are never useful to him. All that + you say alarms me, but I could do no good by going to Issoudun. + Monsieur Hochon, acting behind your mother, will be more useful to + you than I. As for you, you had better come back here; you are + good for nothing in a matter which requires continual attention, + careful observation, servile civilities, discretion in speech, and + a dissimulation of manner and gesture which is wholly against the + grain of artists. + + If they have told you no will has been made, you may be quite sure + they have possessed one for a long time. But wills can be revoked, + and as long as your fool of an uncle lives he is no doubt + susceptible of being worked upon by remorse and religion. Your + inheritance will be the result of a combat between the Church and + the Rabouilleuse. There will inevitably come a time when that + woman will lose her grip on the old man, and religion will be + all-powerful. So long as your uncle makes no gift of the property + during his lifetime, and does not change the nature of his estate, + all may come right whenever religion gets the upper hand. For this + reason, you must beg Monsieur Hochon to keep an eye, as well as he + can, on the condition of your uncle’s property. It is necessary to + know if the real estate is mortgaged, and if so, where and in + whose name the proceeds are invested. It is so easy to terrify an + old man with fears about his life, in case you find him despoiling + his own property for the sake of these interlopers, that almost + any heir with a little adroitness could stop the spoliation at its + outset. But how should your mother, with her ignorance of the + world, her disinterestedness, and her religious ideas, know how to + manage such an affair? However, I am not able to throw any light + on the matter. All that you have done so far has probably given + the alarm, and your adversaries may already have secured + themselves— +</pre> + <p> + “That is what I call an opinion in good shape,” exclaimed Monsieur Hochon, + proud of being himself appreciated by a Parisian lawyer. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Desroches is a famous fellow,” answered Joseph. + </p> + <p> + “It would be well to read that letter to the two women,” said the old man. + </p> + <p> + “There it is,” said Joseph, giving it to him; “as to me, I want to be off + to-morrow; and I am now going to say good-by to my uncle.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Monsieur Hochon, “I see that Monsieur Desroches tells you in a + postscript to burn the letter.” + </p> + <p> + “You can burn it after showing it to my mother,” said the painter. + </p> + <p> + Joseph dressed, crossed the little square, and called on his uncle, who + was just finishing breakfast. Max and Flore were at table. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t disturb yourself, my dear uncle; I have only come to say good-by.” + </p> + <p> + “You are going?” said Max, exchanging glances with Flore. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I have some work to do at the chateau of Monsieur de Serizy, and I + am all the more glad of it because his arm is long enough to do a service + to my poor brother in the Chamber of Peers.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, go and work”; said old Rouget, with a silly air. Joseph + thought him extraordinarily changed within a few days. “Men must work—I + am sorry you are going.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! my mother will be here some time longer,” remarked Joseph. + </p> + <p> + Max made a movement with his lips which the Rabouilleuse observed, and + which signified: “They are going to try the plan Baruch warned me of.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very glad I came,” said Joseph, “for I have had the pleasure of + making your acquaintance and you have enriched my studio—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Flore, “instead of enlightening your uncle on the value of his + pictures, which is now estimated at over one hundred thousand francs, you + have packed them off in a hurry to Paris. Poor dear man! he is no better + than a baby! We have just been told of a little treasure at Bourges,—what + did they call it? a Poussin,—which was in the choir of the cathedral + before the Revolution and is now worth, all by itself, thirty thousand + francs.” + </p> + <p> + “That was not right of you, my nephew,” said Jean-Jacques, at a sign from + Max, which Joseph could not see. + </p> + <p> + “Come now, frankly,” said the soldier, laughing, “on your honor, what + should you say those pictures were worth? You’ve made an easy haul out of + your uncle! and right enough, too,—uncles are made to be pillaged. + Nature deprived me of uncles, but damn it, if I’d had any I should have + shown them no mercy.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you know, monsieur,” said Flore to Rouget, “what <i>your</i> pictures + were worth? How much did you say, Monsieur Joseph?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” answered the painter, who had grown as red as a beetroot,—“the + pictures are certainly worth something.” + </p> + <p> + “They say you estimated them to Monsieur Hochon at one hundred and fifty + thousand francs,” said Flore; “is that true?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the painter, with childlike honesty. + </p> + <p> + “And did you intend,” said Flore to the old man, “to give a hundred and + fifty thousand francs to your nephew?” + </p> + <p> + “Never, never!” cried Jean-Jacques, on whom Flore had fixed her eye. + </p> + <p> + “There is one way to settle all this,” said the painter, “and that is to + return them to you, uncle.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, keep them,” said the old man. + </p> + <p> + “I shall send them back to you,” said Joseph, wounded by the offensive + silence of Max and Flore. “There is something in my brushes which will + make my fortune, without owing anything to any one, even an uncle. My + respects to you, mademoiselle; good-day, monsieur—” + </p> + <p> + And Joseph crossed the square in a state of irritation which artists can + imagine. The entire Hochon family were in the salon. When they saw Joseph + gesticulating and talking to himself, they asked him what was the matter. + The painter, who was as open as the day, related before Baruch and + Francois the scene that had just taken place; and which, two hours later, + thanks to the two young men, was the talk of the whole town, embroidered + with various circumstances that were more or less ridiculous. Some persons + insisted that the painter was maltreated by Max; others that he had + misbehaved to Flore, and that Max had turned him out of doors. + </p> + <p> + “What a child your son is!” said Hochon to Madame Bridau; “the booby is + the dupe of a scene which they have been keeping back for the last day of + his visit. Max and the Rabouilleuse have known the value of those pictures + for the last two weeks,—ever since he had the folly to tell it + before my grandsons, who never rested till they had blurted it out to all + the world. Your artist had better have taken himself off without taking + leave.” + </p> + <p> + “My son has done right to return the pictures if they are really so + valuable,” said Agathe. + </p> + <p> + “If they are worth, as he says, two hundred thousand francs,” said old + Hochon, “it was folly to put himself in the way of being obliged to return + them. You might have had that, at least, out of the property; whereas, as + things are going now, you won’t get anything. And this scene with Joseph + is almost a reason why your brother should refuse to see you again.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <p> + Between midnight and one o’clock, the Knights of Idleness began their + gratuitous distribution of comestibles to the dogs of the town. This + memorable expedition was not over till three in the morning, the hour at + which these reprobates went to sup at Cognette’s. At half-past four, in + the early dawn, they crept home. Just as Max turned the corner of the rue + l’Avenier into the Grande rue, Fario, who stood ambushed in a recess, + struck a knife at his heart, drew out the blade, and escaped by the moat + towards Vilatte, wiping the blade of his knife on his handkerchief. The + Spaniard washed the handkerchief in the Riviere forcee, and returned + quietly to his lodgings at Saint-Paterne, where he got in by a window he + had left open, and went to bed: later, he was awakened by his new + watchman, who found him fast asleep. + </p> + <p> + As he fell, Max uttered a fearful cry which no one could mistake. + Lousteau-Prangin, son of a judge, a distant relation to the family of the + sub-delegate, and young Goddet, who lived at the lower end of the Grande + rue, ran at full speed up the street, calling to each other,— + </p> + <p> + “They are killing Max! Help! help!” + </p> + <p> + But not a dog barked; and all the town, accustomed to the false alarms of + these nightly prowlers, stayed quietly in their beds. When his two + comrades reached him, Max had fainted. It was necessary to rouse Monsieur + Goddet, the surgeon. Max had recognized Fario; but when he came to his + senses, with several persons about him, and felt that his wound was not + mortal, it suddenly occurred to him to make capital out of the attack, and + he said, in a faint voice,— + </p> + <p> + “I think I recognized that cursed painter!” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon Lousteau-Prangin ran off to his father, the judge. Max was + carried home by Cognette, young Goddet, and two other persons. Mere + Cognette and Monsieur Goddet walked beside the stretcher. Those who + carried the wounded man naturally looked across at Monsieur Hochon’s door + while waiting for Kouski to let them in, and saw Monsieur Hochon’s servant + sweeping the steps. At the old miser’s, as everywhere else in the + provinces, the household was early astir. The few words uttered by Max had + roused the suspicions of Monsieur Goddet, and he called to the woman,— + </p> + <p> + “Gritte, is Monsieur Joseph Bridau in bed?” + </p> + <p> + “Bless me!” she said, “he went out at half-past four. I don’t know what + ailed him; he walked up and down his room all night.” + </p> + <p> + This simple answer drew forth such exclamations of horror that the woman + came over, curious to know what they were carrying to old Rouget’s house. + </p> + <p> + “A precious fellow he is, that painter of yours!” they said to her. And + the procession entered the house, leaving Gritte open-mouthed with + amazement at the sight of Max in his bloody shirt, stretched half-fainting + on a mattress. + </p> + <p> + Artists will readily guess what ailed Joseph, and kept him restless all + night. He imagined the tale the bourgeoisie of Issoudun would tell of him. + They would say he had fleeced his uncle; that he was everything but what + he had tried to be,—a loyal fellow and an honest artist! Ah! he + would have given his great picture to have flown like a swallow to Paris, + and thrown his uncle’s paintings at Max’s nose. To be the one robbed, and + to be thought the robber!—what irony! So at the earliest dawn, he + had started for the poplar avenue which led to Tivoli, to give free course + to his agitation. + </p> + <p> + While the innocent fellow was vowing, by way of consolation, never to + return to Issoudun, Max was preparing a horrible outrage for his sensitive + spirit. When Monsieur Goddet had probed the wound and discovered that the + knife, turned aside by a little pocket-book, had happily spared Max’s life + (though making a serious wound), he did as all doctors, and particularly + country surgeons, do; he paved the way for his own credit by “not + answering for the patient’s life”; and then, after dressing the soldier’s + wound, and stating the verdict of science to the Rabouilleuse, + Jean-Jacques Rouget, Kouski, and the Vedie, he left the house. The + Rabouilleuse came in tears to her dear Max, while Kouski and the Vedie + told the assembled crowd that the captain was in a fair way to die. The + news brought nearly two hundred persons in groups about the place + Saint-Jean and the two Narettes. + </p> + <p> + “I sha’n’t be a month in bed; and I know who struck the blow,” whispered + Max to Flore. “But we’ll profit by it to get rid of the Parisians. I have + said I thought I recognized the painter; so pretend that I am expected to + die, and try to have Joseph Bridau arrested. Let him taste a prison for a + couple of days, and I know well enough the mother will be off in a jiffy + for Paris when she gets him out. And then we needn’t fear the priests they + talk of setting on the old fool.” + </p> + <p> + When Flore Brazier came downstairs, she found the assembled crowd quite + prepared to take the impression she meant to give them. She went out with + tears in her eyes, and related, sobbing, how the painter, “who had just + the face for that sort of thing,” had been angry with Max the night before + about some pictures he had “wormed out” of Pere Rouget. + </p> + <p> + “That brigand—for you’ve only got to look at him to see what he is—thinks + that if Max were dead, his uncle would leave him his fortune; as if,” she + cried, “a brother were not more to him than a nephew! Max is Doctor + Rouget’s son. The old one told me so before he died!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! he meant to do the deed just before he left Issoudun; he chose his + time, for he was going away to-day,” said one of the Knights of Idleness. + </p> + <p> + “Max hasn’t an enemy in Issoudun,” said another. + </p> + <p> + “Besides, Max recognized the painter,” said the Rabouilleuse. + </p> + <p> + “Where’s that cursed Parisian? Let us find him!” they all cried. + </p> + <p> + “Find him?” was the answer, “why, he left Monsieur Hochon’s at daybreak.” + </p> + <p> + A Knight of Idleness ran off at once to Monsieur Mouilleron. The crowd + increased; and the tumult became threatening. Excited groups filled up the + whole of the Grande-Narette. Others stationed themselves before the church + of Saint-Jean. An assemblage gathered at the porte Vilatte, which is at + the farther end of the Petite-Narette. Monsieur Lousteau-Prangin and + Monsieur Mouilleron, the commissary of police, the lieutenant of + gendarmes, and two of his men, had some difficulty in reaching the place + Saint-Jean through two hedges of people, whose cries and exclamations + could and did prejudice them against the Parisian; who was, it is needless + to say, unjustly accused, although, it is true, circumstances told against + him. + </p> + <p> + After a conference between Max and the magistrates, Monsieur Mouilleron + sent the commissary of police and a sergeant with one gendarme to examine + what, in the language of the ministry of the interior, is called “the + theatre of the crime.” Then Messieurs Mouilleron and Lousteau-Prangin, + accompanied by the lieutenant of gendarmes crossed over to the Hochon + house, which was now guarded by two gendarmes in the garden and two at the + front door. The crowd was still increasing. The whole town was surging in + the Grande rue. + </p> + <p> + Gritte had rushed terrified to her master, crying out: “Monsieur, we shall + be pillaged! the town is in revolt; Monsieur Maxence Gilet has been + assassinated; he is dying! and they say it is Monsieur Joseph who has done + it!” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Hochon dressed quickly, and came downstairs; but seeing the angry + populace, he hastily retreated within the house, and bolted the door. On + questioning Gritte, he learned that his guest had left the house at + daybreak, after walking the floor all night in great agitation, and had + not yet come in. Much alarmed, he went to find Madame Hochon, who was + already awakened by the noise, and to whom he told the frightful news + which, true or false, was causing almost a riot in Issoudun. + </p> + <p> + “He is innocent, of course,” said Madame Hochon. + </p> + <p> + “Before his innocence can be proved, the crowd may get in here and pillage + us,” said Monsieur Hochon, livid with fear, for he had gold in his cellar. + </p> + <p> + “Where is Agathe?” + </p> + <p> + “Sound asleep.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! so much the better,” said Madame Hochon. “I wish she may sleep on + till the matter is cleared up. Such a shock might kill the poor child.” + </p> + <p> + But Agathe woke up and came down half-dressed; for the evasive answers of + Gritte, whom she questioned, had disturbed both her head and heart. She + found Madame Hochon, looking very pale, with her eyes full of tears, at + one of the windows of the salon beside her husband. + </p> + <p> + “Courage, my child. God sends us our afflictions,” said the old lady. + “Joseph is accused—” + </p> + <p> + “Of what?” + </p> + <p> + “Of a bad action which he could never have committed,” answered Madame + Hochon. + </p> + <p> + Hearing the words, and seeing the lieutenant of gendarmes, who at this + moment entered the room accompanied by the two gentlemen, Agathe fainted + away. + </p> + <p> + “There now!” said Monsieur Hochon to his wife and Gritte, “carry off + Madame Bridau; women are only in the way at these times. Take her to her + room and stay there, both of you. Sit down, gentlemen,” continued the old + man. “The mistake to which we owe your visit will soon, I hope, be cleared + up.” + </p> + <p> + “Even if it should be a mistake,” said Monsieur Mouilleron, “the + excitement of the crowd is so great, and their minds are so exasperated, + that I fear for the safety of the accused. I should like to get him + arrested, and that might satisfy these people.” + </p> + <p> + “Who would ever have believed that Monsieur Maxence Gilet had inspired so + much affection in this town?” asked Lousteau-Prangin. + </p> + <p> + “One of my men says there’s a crowd of twelve hundred more just coming in + from the faubourg de Rome,” said the lieutenant of gendarmes, “and they + are threatening death to the assassin.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is your guest?” said Monsieur Mouilleron to Monsieur Hochon. + </p> + <p> + “He has gone to walk in the country, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + “Call Gritte,” said the judge gravely. “I was in hopes he had not left the + house. You are aware that the crime was committed not far from here, at + daybreak.” + </p> + <p> + While Monsieur Hochon went to find Gritte, the three functionaries looked + at each other significantly. + </p> + <p> + “I never liked that painter’s face,” said the lieutenant to Monsieur + Mouilleron. + </p> + <p> + “My good woman,” said the judge to Gritte, when she appeared, “they say + you saw Monsieur Joseph Bridau leave the house this morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur,” she answered, trembling like a leaf. + </p> + <p> + “At what hour?” + </p> + <p> + “Just as I was getting up: he walked about his room all night, and was + dressed when I came downstairs.” + </p> + <p> + “Was it daylight?” + </p> + <p> + “Barely.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he seem excited?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he was all of a twitter.” + </p> + <p> + “Send one of your men for my clerk,” said Lousteau-Prangin to the + lieutenant, “and tell him to bring warrants with him—” + </p> + <p> + “Good God! don’t be in such a hurry,” cried Monsieur Hochon. “The young + man’s agitation may have been caused by something besides the + premeditation of this crime. He meant to return to Paris to-day, to attend + to a matter in which Gilet and Mademoiselle Brazier had doubted his + honor.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the affair of the pictures,” said Monsieur Mouilleron. “Those + pictures caused a very hot quarrel between them yesterday, and it is a + word and a blow with artists, they tell me.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is there in Issoudun who had any object in killing Gilet?” said + Lousteau. “No one,—neither a jealous husband nor anybody else; for + the fellow has never harmed a soul.” + </p> + <p> + “But what was Monsieur Gilet doing in the streets at four in the morning?” + remarked Monsieur Hochon. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Monsieur Hochon, you must allow us to manage this affair in our own + way,” answered Mouilleron; “you don’t know all: Gilet recognized your + painter.” + </p> + <p> + At this instant a clamor was heard from the other end of the town, growing + louder and louder, like the roll of thunder, as it followed the course of + the Grande-Narette. + </p> + <p> + “Here he is! here he is!—he’s arrested!” + </p> + <p> + These words rose distinctly on the ear above the hoarse roar of the + populace. Poor Joseph, returning quietly past the mill at Landrole + intending to get home in time for breakfast, was spied by the various + groups of people, as soon as he reached the place Misere. Happily for him, + a couple of gendarmes arrived on a run in time to snatch him from the + inhabitants of the faubourg de Rome, who had already pinioned him by the + arms and were threatening him with death. + </p> + <p> + “Give way! give way!” cried the gendarmes, calling to some of their + comrades to help them, and putting themselves one before and the other + behind Bridau. + </p> + <p> + “You see, monsieur,” said the one who held the painter, “it concerns our + skin as well as yours at this moment. Innocent or guilty, we must protect + you against the tumult raised by the murder of Captain Gilet. And the + crowd is not satisfied with suspecting you; they declare, hard as iron, + that you are the murderer. Monsieur Gilet is adored by all the people, who—look + at them!—want to take justice into their own hands. Ah! didn’t we + see them, in 1830, dusting the jackets of the tax-gatherers? whose life + isn’t a bed of roses, anyway!” + </p> + <p> + Joseph Bridau grew pale as death, and collected all his strength to walk + onward. + </p> + <p> + “After all,” he said, “I am innocent. Go on!” + </p> + <p> + Poor artist! he was forced to bear his cross. Amid the hooting and insults + and threats from the mob, he made the dreadful transit from the place + Misere to the place Saint-Jean. The gendarmes were obliged to draw their + sabres on the furious mob, which pelted them with stones. One of the + officers was wounded, and Joseph received several of the missiles on his + legs, and shoulders, and hat. + </p> + <p> + “Here we are!” said one of the gendarmes, as they entered Monsieur + Hochon’s hall, “and not without difficulty, lieutenant.” + </p> + <p> + “We must now manage to disperse the crowd; and I see but one way, + gentlemen,” said the lieutenant to the magistrates. “We must take Monsieur + Bridau to the Palais accompanied by all of you; I and my gendarmes will + make a circle round you. One can’t answer for anything in presence of a + furious crowd of six thousand—” + </p> + <p> + “You are right,” said Monsieur Hochon, who was trembling all the while for + his gold. + </p> + <p> + “If that’s your only way to protect innocence in Issoudun,” said Joseph, + “I congratulate you. I came near being stoned—” + </p> + <p> + “Do you wish your friend’s house to be taken by assault and pillaged?” + asked the lieutenant. “Could we beat back with our sabres a crowd of + people who are pushed from behind by an angry populace that knows nothing + of the forms of justice?” + </p> + <p> + “That will do, gentlemen, let us go; we can come to explanations later,” + said Joseph, who had recovered his self-possession. + </p> + <p> + “Give way, friends!” said the lieutenant to the crowd; “<i>He</i> is + arrested, and we are taking him to the Palais.” + </p> + <p> + “Respect the law, friends!” said Monsieur Mouilleron. + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn’t you prefer to see him guillotined?” said one of the gendarmes to + an angry group. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, they shall guillotine him!” shouted one madman. + </p> + <p> + “They are going to guillotine him!” cried the women. + </p> + <p> + By the time they reached the end of the Grande-Narette the crowd were + shouting: “They are taking him to the guillotine!” “They found the knife + upon him!” “That’s what Parisians are!” “He carries crime on his face!” + </p> + <p> + Though all Joseph’s blood had flown to his head, he walked the distance + from the place Saint-Jean to the Palais with remarkable calmness and + self-possession. Nevertheless, he was very glad to find himself in the + private office of Monsieur Lousteau-Prangin. + </p> + <p> + “I need hardly tell you, gentlemen, that I am innocent,” said Joseph, + addressing Monsieur Mouilleron, Monsieur Lousteau-Prangin, and the clerk. + “I can only beg you to assist me in proving my innocence. I know nothing + of this affair.” + </p> + <p> + When the judge had stated all the suspicious facts which were against him, + ending with Max’s declaration, Joseph was astounded. + </p> + <p> + “But,” said he, “it was past five o’clock when I left the house. I went up + the Grande rue, and at half-past five I was standing looking up at the + facade of the parish church of Saint-Cyr. I talked there with the sexton, + who came to ring the angelus, and asked him for information about the + building, which seems to me fantastic and incomplete. Then I passed + through the vegetable-market, where some women had already assembled. From + there, crossing the place Misere, I went as far as the mill of Landrole by + the Pont aux Anes, where I watched the ducks for five or six minutes, and + the miller’s men must have noticed me. I saw the women going to wash; they + are probably still there. They made a little fun of me, and declared that + I was not handsome; I told them it was not all gold that glittered. From + there, I followed the long avenue to Tivoli, where I talked with the + gardener. Pray have these facts verified; and do not even arrest me, for I + give you my word of honor that I will stay quietly in this office till you + are convinced of my innocence.” + </p> + <p> + These sensible words, said without the least hesitation, and with the ease + of a man who is perfectly sure of his facts, made some impression on the + magistrates. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, we must find all these persons and summon them,” said Monsieur + Mouilleron; “but it is more than the affair of a day. Make up your mind, + therefore, in your own interests, to be imprisoned in the Palais.” + </p> + <p> + “Provided I can write to my mother, so as to reassure her, poor woman—oh! + you can read the letter,” he added. + </p> + <p> + This request was too just not to be granted, and Joseph wrote the + following letter:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Do not be uneasy, dear mother; the mistake of which I am a victim + can easily be rectified; I have already given them the means of + doing so. To-morrow, or perhaps this evening, I shall be at + liberty. I kiss you, and beg you to say to Monsieur and Madame + Hochon how grieved I am at this affair; in which, however, I have + had no hand,—it is the result of some chance which, as yet, I do + not understand.” + </pre> + <p> + When the note reached Madame Bridau, she was suffering from a nervous + attack, and the potions which Monsieur Goddet was trying to make her + swallow were powerless to soothe her. The reading of the letter acted like + balm; after a few quiverings, Agathe subsided into the depression which + always follows such attacks. Later, when Monsieur Goddet returned to his + patient he found her regretting that she had ever quitted Paris. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Madame Hochon to Monsieur Goddet, “how is Monsieur Gilet?” + </p> + <p> + “His wound, though serious, is not mortal,” replied the doctor. “With a + month’s nursing he will be all right. I left him writing to Monsieur + Mouilleron to request him to set your son at liberty, madame,” he added, + turning to Agathe. “Oh! Max is a fine fellow. I told him what a state you + were in, and he then remembered a circumstance which goes to prove that + the assassin was not your son; the man wore list shoes, whereas it is + certain that Monsieur Joseph left the house in his boots—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! God forgive him the harm he has done me—” + </p> + <p> + The fact was, a man had left a note for Max, after dark, written in + type-letters, which ran as follows:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Captain Gilet ought not to let an innocent man suffer. He who + struck the blow promises not to strike again if Monsieur Gilet + will have Monsieur Joseph Bridau set at liberty, without naming + the man who did it.” + </pre> + <p> + After reading this letter and burning it, Max wrote to Monsieur Mouilleron + stating the circumstance of the list shoes, as reported by Monsieur + Goddet, begging him to set Joseph at liberty, and to come and see him that + he might explain the matter more at length. + </p> + <p> + By the time this letter was received, Monsieur Lousteau-Prangin had + verified, by the testimony of the bell-ringer, the market-women and + washerwomen, and the miller’s men, the truth of Joseph’s explanation. + Max’s letter made his innocence only the more certain, and Monsieur + Mouilleron himself escorted him back to the Hochons’. Joseph was greeted + with such overflowing tenderness by his mother that the poor misunderstood + son gave thanks to ill-luck—like the husband to the thief, in La + Fontaine’s fable—for a mishap which brought him such proofs of + affection. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Monsieur Mouilleron, with a self-satisfied air, “I knew at once + by the way you looked at the angry crowd that you were innocent; but + whatever I may have thought, any one who knows Issoudun must also know + that the only way to protect you was to make the arrest as we did. Ah! you + carried your head high.” + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking of something else,” said the artist simply. “An officer in + the army told me that he was once stopped in Dalmatia under similar + circumstances by an excited populace, in the early morning as he was + returning from a walk. This recollection came into my mind, and I looked + at all those heads with the idea of painting a revolt of the year 1793. + Besides, I kept saying to myself: Blackguard that I am! I have only got my + deserts for coming here to look after an inheritance, instead of painting + in my studio.” + </p> + <p> + “If you will allow me to offer you a piece of advice,” said the procureur + du roi, “you will take a carriage to-night, which the postmaster will lend + you, and return to Paris by the diligence from Bourges.” + </p> + <p> + “That is my advice also,” said Monsieur Hochon, who was burning with a + desire for the departure of his guests. + </p> + <p> + “My most earnest wish is to get away from Issoudun, though I leave my only + friend here,” said Agathe, kissing Madame Hochon’s hand. “When shall I see + you again?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! my dear, never until we meet above. We have suffered enough here + below,” she added in a low voice, “for God to take pity upon us.” + </p> + <p> + Shortly after, while Monsieur Mouilleron had gone across the way to talk + with Max, Gritte greatly astonished Monsieur and Madame Hochon, Agathe, + Joseph, and Adolphine by announcing the visit of Monsieur Rouget. + Jean-Jacques came to bid his sister good-by, and to offer her his caleche + for the drive to Bourges. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! your pictures have been a great evil to us,” said Agathe. + </p> + <p> + “Keep them, my sister,” said the old man, who did not even now believe in + their value. + </p> + <p> + “Neighbor,” remarked Monsieur Hochon, “our best friends, our surest + defenders, are our own relations; above all, when they are such as your + sister Agathe, and your nephew Joseph.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps so,” said old Rouget in his dull way. + </p> + <p> + “We ought all to think of ending our days in a Christian manner,” said + Madame Hochon. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Jean-Jacques,” said Agathe, “what a day this has been!” + </p> + <p> + “Will you accept my carriage?” asked Rouget. + </p> + <p> + “No, brother,” answered Madame Bridau, “I thank you, and wish you health + and comfort.” + </p> + <p> + Rouget let his sister and nephew kiss him, and then he went away without + manifesting any feeling himself. Baruch, at a hint from his grandfather, + had been to see the postmaster. At eleven o’clock that night, the two + Parisians, ensconced in a wicker cabriolet drawn by one horse and ridden + by a postilion, quitted Issoudun. Adolphine and Madame Hochon parted from + them with tears in their eyes; they alone regretted Joseph and Agathe. + </p> + <p> + “They are gone!” said Francois Hochon, going, with the Rabouilleuse, into + Max’s bedroom. + </p> + <p> + “Well done! the trick succeeded,” answered Max, who was now tired and + feverish. + </p> + <p> + “But what did you say to old Mouilleron?” asked Francois. + </p> + <p> + “I told him that I had given my assassin some cause to waylay me; that he + was a dangerous man and likely, if I followed up the affair, to kill me + like a dog before he could be captured. Consequently, I begged Mouilleron + and Prangin to make the most active search ostensibly, but really to let + the assassin go in peace, unless they wished to see me a dead man.” + </p> + <p> + “I do hope, Max,” said Flore, “that you will be quiet at night for some + time to come.” + </p> + <p> + “At any rate, we are delivered from the Parisians!” cried Max. “The fellow + who stabbed me had no idea what a service he was doing us.” + </p> + <p> + The next day, the departure of the Parisians was celebrated as a victory + of the provinces over Paris by every one in Issoudun, except the more + sober and staid inhabitants, who shared the opinions of Monsieur and + Madame Hochon. A few of Max’s friends spoke very harshly of the Bridaus. + </p> + <p> + “Do those Parisians fancy we are all idiots,” cried one, “and think they + have only got to hold their hats and catch legacies?” + </p> + <p> + “They came to fleece, but they have got shorn themselves,” said another; + “the nephew is not to the uncle’s taste.” + </p> + <p> + “And, if you please, they actually consulted a lawyer in Paris—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! had they really a plan?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course,—a plan to get possession of old Rouget. But the + Parisians were not clever enough; that lawyer can’t crow over us + Berrichons!” + </p> + <p> + “How abominable!” + </p> + <p> + “That’s Paris for you!” + </p> + <p> + “The Rabouilleuse knew they came to attack her, and she defended herself.” + </p> + <p> + “She did gloriously right!” + </p> + <p> + To the townspeople at large the Bridaus were Parisians and foreigners; + they preferred Max and Flore. + </p> + <p> + We can imagine the satisfaction with which, after this campaign, Joseph + and Agathe re-entered their little lodging in the rue Mazarin. On the + journey, the artist recovered his spirits, which had, not unnaturally, + been put to flight by his arrest and twenty-four hours’ confinement; but + he could not cheer up his mother. The Court of Peers was about to begin + the trial of the military conspirators, and that was sufficient to keep + Agathe from recovering her peace of mind. Philippe’s conduct, in spite of + the clever defender whom Desroches recommended to him, roused suspicions + that were unfavorable to his character. In view of this, Joseph, as soon + as he had put Desroches in possession of all that was going on at + Issoudun, started with Mistigris for the chateau of the Comte de Serizy, + to escape hearing about the trial of the conspirators, which lasted for + twenty days. + </p> + <p> + It is useless to record facts that may be found in contemporaneous + histories. Whether it were that he played a part previously agreed upon, + or that he was really an informer, Philippe was condemned to five years’ + surveillance by the police department, and ordered to leave Paris the same + day for Autun, the town which the director-general of police selected as + the place of his exile for five years. This punishment resembled the + detention of prisoners on parole who have a town for a prison. Learning + that the Comte de Serizy, one of the peers appointed by the Chamber on the + court-martial, was employing Joseph to decorate his chateau at Presles, + Desroches begged the minister to grant him an audience, and found Monsieur + de Serizy most amiably disposed toward Joseph, with whom he had happened + to make personal acquaintance. Desroches explained the financial condition + of the two brothers, recalling the services of the father, and the neglect + shown to them under the Restoration. + </p> + <p> + “Such injustice, monseigneur,” said the lawyer, “is a lasting cause of + irritation and discontent. You knew the father; give the sons a chance, at + least, of making a fortune—” + </p> + <p> + And he drew a succinct picture of the situation of the family affairs at + Issoudun, begging the all-powerful vice-president of the Council of State + to take steps to induce the director-general of police to change + Philippe’s place of residence from Autun to Issoudun. He also spoke of + Philippe’s extreme poverty, and asked a dole of sixty francs a month, + which the minister of war ought, he said, for mere shame’s sake, to grant + to a former lieutenant-colonel. + </p> + <p> + “I will obtain all you ask of me, for I think it just,” replied the count. + </p> + <p> + Three days later, Desroches, furnished with the necessary authority, + fetched Philippe from the prison of the Court of Peers, and took him to + his own house, rue de Bethizy. Once there, the young barrister read the + miserable vagabond one of those unanswerable lectures in which lawyers + rate things at their actual value; using plain terms to qualify the + conduct, and to analyze and reduce to their simplest meaning the + sentiments and ideas of clients toward whom they feel enough interest to + speak plainly. After humbling the Emperor’s staff-officer by reproaching + him with his reckless dissipations, his mother’s misfortunes, and the + death of Madame Descoings, he went on to tell him the state of things at + Issoudun, explaining it according to his lights, and probing both the + scheme and the character of Maxence Gilet and the Rabouilleuse to their + depths. Philippe, who was gifted with a keen comprehension in such + directions, listened with much more interest to this part of Desroches’s + lecture than to what had gone before. + </p> + <p> + “Under these circumstances,” continued the lawyer, “you can repair the + injury you have done to your estimable family,—so far at least as it + is reparable; for you cannot restore life to the poor mother you have all + but killed. But you alone can—” + </p> + <p> + “What can I do?” asked Philippe. + </p> + <p> + “I have obtained a change of residence for you from Autun to Issoudun.—” + </p> + <p> + Philippe’s sunken face, which had grown almost sinister in expression and + was furrowed with sufferings and privation, instantly lighted up with a + flash of joy. + </p> + <p> + “And, as I was saying, you alone can recover the inheritance of old + Rouget’s property; half of which may by this time be in the jaws of the + wolf named Gilet,” replied Desroches. “You now know all the particulars, + and it is for you to act accordingly. I suggest no plan; I have no ideas + at all as to that; besides, everything will depend on local circumstances. + You have to deal with a strong force; that fellow is very astute. The way + he attempted to get back the pictures your uncle had given to Joseph, the + audacity with which he laid a crime on your poor brother’s shoulders, all + go to prove that the adversary is capable of everything. Therefore, be + prudent; and try to behave properly out of policy, if you can’t do so out + of decency. Without telling Joseph, whose artist’s pride would be up in + arms, I have sent the pictures to Monsieur Hochon, telling him to give + them up to no one but you. By the way, Maxence Gilet is a brave man.” + </p> + <p> + “So much the better,” said Philippe; “I count on his courage for success; + a coward would leave Issoudun.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,—think of your mother who has been so devoted to you, and of + your brother, whom you made your milch cow.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! did he tell you that nonsense?” cried Philippe. + </p> + <p> + “Am I not the friend of the family, and don’t I know much more about you + than they do?” asked Desroches. + </p> + <p> + “What do you know?” said Philippe. + </p> + <p> + “That you betrayed your comrades.” + </p> + <p> + “I!” exclaimed Philippe. “I! a staff-officer of the Emperor! Absurd! Why, + we fooled the Chamber of Peers, the lawyers, the government, and the whole + of the damned concern. The king’s people were completely hood-winked.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s all very well, if it was so,” answered the lawyer. “But, don’t you + see, the Bourbons can’t be overthrown; all Europe is backing them; and you + ought to try to make your peace with the war department,—you could + do that readily enough if you were rich. To get rich, you and your + brother, you must lay hold of your uncle. If you will take the trouble to + manage an affair which needs great cleverness, patience, and caution, you + have enough work before you to occupy your five years.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” cried Philippe, “I must take the bull by the horns at once. This + Maxence may alter the investment of the property and put it in that + woman’s name; and then all would be lost.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Hochon is a good adviser, and sees clearly; consult him. You + have your orders from the police; I have taken your place in the Orleans + diligence for half-past seven o’clock this evening. I suppose your trunk + is ready; so, now come and dine.” + </p> + <p> + “I own nothing but what I have got on my back,” said Philippe, opening his + horrible blue overcoat; “but I only need three things, which you must tell + Giroudeau, the uncle of Finot, to send me,—my sabre, my sword, and + my pistols.” + </p> + <p> + “You need more than that,” said the lawyer, shuddering as he looked at his + client. “You will receive a quarterly stipend which will clothe you + decently.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless me! are you here, Godeschal?” cried Philippe, recognizing in + Desroches’s head-clerk, as they passed out, the brother of Mariette. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have been with Monsieur Desroches for the last two months.” + </p> + <p> + “And he will stay with me, I hope, till he gets a business of his own,” + said Desroches. + </p> + <p> + “How is Mariette?” asked Philippe, moved at his recollections. + </p> + <p> + “She is getting ready for the opening of the new theatre.” + </p> + <p> + “It would cost her little trouble to get my sentence remitted,” said + Philippe. “However, as she chooses!” + </p> + <p> + After a meagre dinner, given by Desroches who boarded his head-clerk, the + two lawyers put the political convict in the diligence, and wished him + good luck. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <p> + On the second of November, All-Souls’ day, Philippe Bridau appeared before + the commissary of police at Issoudun, to have the date of his arrival + recorded on his papers; and by that functionary’s advice he went to lodge + in the rue l’Avenier. The news of the arrival of an officer, banished on + account of the late military conspiracy, spread rapidly through the town, + and caused all the more excitement when it was known that this officer was + a brother of the painter who had been falsely accused. Maxence Gilet, by + this time entirely recovered from his wound, had completed the difficult + operation of turning all Pere Rouget’s mortgages into money, and putting + the proceeds in one sum, on the “grand-livre.” The loan of one hundred and + forty thousand francs obtained by the old man on his landed property had + caused a great sensation,—for everything is known in the provinces. + Monsieur Hochon, in the Bridau interest, was much put about by this + disaster, and questioned old Monsieur Heron, the notary at Bourges, as to + the object of it. + </p> + <p> + “The heirs of old Rouget, if old Rouget changes his mind, ought to make me + a votive offering,” cried Monsieur Heron. “If it had not been for me, the + old fellow would have allowed the fifty thousand francs’ income to stand + in the name of Maxence Gilet. I told Mademoiselle Brazier that she ought + to look to the will only, and not run the risk of a suit for spoliation, + seeing what numerous proofs these transfers in every direction would give + against them. To gain time, I advised Maxence and his mistress to keep + quiet, and let this sudden change in the usual business habits of the old + man be forgotten.” + </p> + <p> + “Protect the Bridaus, for they have nothing,” said Monsieur Hochon, who in + addition to all other reasons, could not forgive Gilet the terrors he had + endured when fearing the pillage of his house. + </p> + <p> + Maxence Gilet and Flore Brazier, now secure against all attack, were very + merry over the arrival of another of old Rouget’s nephews. They knew they + were able, at the first signal of danger, to make the old man sign a power + of attorney under which the money in the Funds could be transferred either + to Max or Flore. If the will leaving Flore the principal, should be + revoked, an income of fifty thousand francs was a very tolerable crumb of + comfort,—more particularly after squeezing from the real estate that + mortgage of a hundred and forty thousand. + </p> + <p> + The day after his arrival, Philippe called upon his uncle about ten + o’clock in the morning, anxious to present himself in his dilapidated + clothing. When the convalescent of the Hopital du Midi, the prisoner of + the Luxembourg, entered the room, Flore Brazier felt a shiver pass over + her at the repulsive sight. Gilet himself was conscious of that particular + disturbance both of mind and body, by which Nature sometimes warns us of a + latent enmity, or a coming danger. If there was something indescribably + sinister in Philippe’s countenance, due to his recent misfortunes, the + effect was heightened by his clothes. His forlorn blue great-coat was + buttoned in military fashion to the throat, for painful reasons; and yet + it showed much that it pretended to conceal. The bottom edges of the + trousers, ragged like those of an almshouse beggar, were the sign of + abject poverty. The boots left wet splashes on the floor, as the mud oozed + from fissures in the soles. The gray hat, which the colonel held in his + hand, was horribly greasy round the rim. The malacca cane, from which the + polish had long disappeared, must have stood in all the corners of all the + cafes in Paris, and poked its worn-out end into many a corruption. Above + the velvet collar, rubbed and worn till the frame showed through it, rose + a head like that which Frederick Lemaitre makes up for the last act in + “The Life of a Gambler,”—where the exhaustion of a man still in the + prime of life is betrayed by the metallic, brassy skin, discolored as if + with verdigris. Such tints are seen on the faces of debauched gamblers who + spend their nights in play: the eyes are sunken in a dusky circle, the + lids are reddened rather than red, the brow is menacing from the wreck and + ruin it reveals. Philippe’s cheeks, which were sunken and wrinkled, showed + signs of the illness from which he had scarcely recovered. His head was + bald, except for a fringe of hair at the back which ended at the ears. The + pure blue of his brilliant eyes had acquired the cold tones of polished + steel. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, uncle,” he said, in a hoarse voice. “I am your nephew, + Philippe Bridau,—a specimen of how the Bourbons treat a + lieutenant-colonel, an old soldier of the old army, one who carried the + Emperor’s orders at the battle of Montereau. If my coat were to open, I + should be put to shame in presence of Mademoiselle. Well, it is the rule + of the game! We hoped to begin it again; we tried it, and we have failed! + I am to reside in your city by the order of the police, with a full pay of + sixty francs a month. So the inhabitants needn’t fear that I shall raise + the price of provisions! I see you are in good and lovely company.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you are my nephew,” said Jean-Jacques. + </p> + <p> + “Invite monsieur le colonel to breakfast with us,” said Flore. + </p> + <p> + “No, I thank you, madame,” answered Philippe, “I have breakfasted. + Besides, I would cut off my hand sooner than ask a bit of bread or a + farthing from my uncle, after the treatment my mother and brother received + in this town. It did not seem proper, however, that I should settle here, + in Issoudun, without paying my respects to him from time to time. You can + do what you like,” he added, offering the old man his hand, into which + Rouget put his own, which Philippe shook, “—whatever you like. I + shall have nothing to say against it; provided the honor of the Bridaus is + untouched.” + </p> + <p> + Gilet could look at the lieutenant-colonel as much as he pleased, for + Philippe pointedly avoided casting his eyes in his direction. Max, though + the blood boiled in his veins, was too well aware of the importance of + behaving with political prudence—which occasionally resembles + cowardice—to take fire like a young man; he remained, therefore, + perfectly calm and cold. + </p> + <p> + “It wouldn’t be right, monsieur,” said Flore, “to live on sixty francs a + month under the nose of an uncle who has forty thousand francs a year, and + who has already behaved so kindly to Captain Gilet, his natural relation, + here present—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Philippe,” cried the old man, “you must see that!” + </p> + <p> + On Flore’s presentation, Philippe made a half-timid bow to Max. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle, I have some pictures to return to you; they are now at Monsieur + Hochon’s. Will you be kind enough to come over some day and identify + them.” + </p> + <p> + Saying these last words in a curt tone, lieutenant-colonel Philippe Bridau + departed. The tone of his visit made, if possible, a deeper impression on + Flore’s mind, and also on that of Max, than the shock they had felt at the + first sight of that horrible campaigner. As soon as Philippe had slammed + the door, with the violence of a disinherited heir, Max and Flore hid + behind the window-curtains to watch him as he crossed the road, to the + Hochons’. + </p> + <p> + “What a vagabond!” exclaimed Flore, questioning Max with a glance of her + eye. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; unfortunately there were men like him in the armies of the Emperor; + I sent seven to the shades at Cabrera,” answered Gilet. + </p> + <p> + “I do hope, Max, that you won’t pick a quarrel with that fellow,” said + Mademoiselle Brazier. + </p> + <p> + “He smelt so of tobacco,” complained the old man. + </p> + <p> + “He was smelling after your money-bags,” said Flore, in a peremptory tone. + “My advice is that you don’t let him into the house again.” + </p> + <p> + “I’d prefer not to,” replied Rouget. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said Gritte, entering the room where the Hochon family were + all assembled after breakfast, “here is the Monsieur Bridau you were + talking about.” + </p> + <p> + Philippe made his entrance politely, in the midst of a dead silence caused + by general curiosity. Madame Hochon shuddered from head to foot as she + beheld the author of all Agathe’s woes and the murderer of good old Madame + Descoings. Adolphine also felt a shock of fear. Baruch and Francois looked + at each other in surprise. Old Hochon kept his self-possession, and + offered a seat to the son of Madame Bridau. + </p> + <p> + “I have come, monsieur,” said Philippe, “to introduce myself to you; I am + forced to consider how I can manage to live here, for five years, on sixty + francs a month.” + </p> + <p> + “It can be done,” said the octogenarian. + </p> + <p> + Philippe talked about things in general, with perfect propriety. He + mentioned the journalist Lousteau, nephew of the old lady, as a “rara + avis,” and won her good graces from the moment she heard him say that the + name of Lousteau would become celebrated. He did not hesitate to admit his + faults of conduct. To a friendly admonition which Madame Hochon addressed + to him in a low voice, he replied that he had reflected deeply while in + prison, and could promise that in future he would live another life. + </p> + <p> + On a hint from Philippe, Monsieur Hochon went out with him when he took + his leave. When the miser and the soldier reached the boulevard Baron, a + place where no one could overhear them, the colonel turned to the old man,— + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” he said, “if you will be guided by me, we will never speak + together of matters and things, or people either, unless we are walking in + the open country, or in places where we cannot be heard. Maitre Desroches + has fully explained to me the influence of the gossip of a little town. + Therefore I don’t wish you to be suspected of advising me; though + Desroches has told me to ask for your advice, and I beg you not to be + chary of giving it. We have a powerful enemy in our front, and it won’t do + to neglect any precaution which may help to defeat him. In the first + place, therefore, excuse me if I do not call upon you again. A little + coldness between us will clear you of all suspicion of influencing my + conduct. When I want to consult you, I will pass along the square at + half-past nine, just as you are coming out after breakfast. If you see me + carry my cane on my shoulder, that will mean that we must meet—accidentally—in + some open space which you will point out to me.” + </p> + <p> + “I see you are a prudent man, bent on success,” said old Hochon. + </p> + <p> + “I shall succeed, monsieur. First of all, give me the names of the + officers of the old army now living in Issoudun, who have not taken sides + with Maxence Gilet; I wish to make their acquaintance.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, there’s a captain of the artillery of the Guard, Monsieur + Mignonnet, a man about forty years of age, who was brought up at the Ecole + Polytechnique, and lives in a quiet way. He is a very honorable man, and + openly disapproves of Max, whose conduct he considers unworthy of a true + soldier.” + </p> + <p> + “Good!” remarked the lieutenant-colonel. + </p> + <p> + “There are not many soldiers here of that stripe,” resumed Monsieur + Hochon; “the only other that I know is an old cavalry captain.” + </p> + <p> + “That is my arm,” said Philippe. “Was he in the Guard?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied Monsieur Hochon. “Carpentier was, in 1810, sergeant-major + in the dragoons; then he rose to be sub-lieutenant in the line, and + subsequently captain of cavalry.” + </p> + <p> + “Giroudeau may know him,” thought Philippe. + </p> + <p> + “This Monsieur Carpentier took the place in the mayor’s office which Gilet + threw up; he is a friend of Monsieur Mignonnet.” + </p> + <p> + “How can I earn my living here?” + </p> + <p> + “They are going, I think, to establish a mutual insurance agency in + Issoudun, for the department of the Cher; you might get a place in it, but + the pay won’t be more than fifty francs a month at the outside.” + </p> + <p> + “That will be enough.” + </p> + <p> + At the end of a week Philippe had a new suit of clothes,—coat, + waistcoat, and trousers,—of good blue Elbeuf cloth, bought on + credit, to be paid for at so much a month; also new boots, buckskin + gloves, and a hat. Giroudeau sent him some linen, with his weapons and a + letter for Carpentier, who had formerly served under Giroudeau. The letter + secured him Carpentier’s good-will, and the latter presented him to his + friend Mignonnet as a man of great merit and the highest character. + Philippe won the admiration of these worthy officers by confiding to them + a few facts about the late conspiracy, which was, as everybody knows, the + last attempt of the old army against the Bourbons; for the affair of the + sergeants at La Rochelle belongs to another order of ideas. + </p> + <p> + Warned by the fate of the conspiracy of the 19th of August, 1820, and of + those of Berton and Caron, the soldiers of the old army resigned + themselves, after their failure in 1822, to await events. This last + conspiracy, which grew out of that of the 19th of August, was really a + continuation of the latter, carried on by a better element. Like its + predecessor, it was absolutely unknown to the royal government. Betrayed + once more, the conspirators had the wit to reduce their vast enterprise to + the puny proportions of a barrack plot. This conspiracy, in which several + regiments of cavalry, infantry, and artillery were concerned, had its + centre in the north of France. The strong places along the frontier were + to be captured at a blow. If success had followed, the treaties of 1815 + would have been broken by a federation with Belgium, which, by a military + compact made among the soldiers, was to withdraw from the Holy Alliance. + Two thrones would have been plunged in a moment into the vortex of this + sudden cyclone. Instead of this formidable scheme—concerted by + strong minds and supported by personages of high rank—being carried + out, one small part of it, and that only, was discovered and brought + before the Court of Peers. Philippe Bridau consented to screen the + leaders, who retired the moment the plot was discovered (either by + treachery or accident), and from their seats in both Chambers lent their + co-operation to the inquiry only to work for the ultimate success of their + purpose at the heart of the government. + </p> + <p> + To recount this scheme, which, since 1830, the Liberals have openly + confessed in all its ramifications, would trench upon the domain of + history and involve too long a digression. This glimpse of it is enough to + show the double part which Philippe Bridau undertook to play. The former + staff-officer of the Emperor was to lead a movement in Paris solely for + the purpose of masking the real conspiracy and occupying the mind of the + government at its centre, while the great struggle should burst forth at + the north. When the latter miscarried before discovery, Philippe was + ordered to break all links connecting the two plots, and to allow the + secrets of the secondary plot only to become known. For this purpose, his + abject misery, to which his state of health and his clothing bore witness, + was amply sufficient to undervalue the character of the conspiracy and + reduce its proportions in the eyes of the authorities. The role was well + suited to the precarious position of the unprincipled gambler. Feeling + himself astride of both parties, the crafty Philippe played the saint to + the royal government, all the while retaining the good opinion of the men + in high places who were of the other party,—determined to cast in + his lot at a later day with whichever side he might then find most to his + advantage. + </p> + <p> + These revelations as to the vast bearings of the real conspiracy made + Philippe a man of great distinction in the eyes of Carpentier and + Mignonnet, to whom his self-devotion seemed a state-craft worthy of the + palmy days of the Convention. In a short time the tricky Bonapartist was + seen to be on friendly terms with the two officers, and the consideration + they enjoyed in the town was, of course, shared by him. He soon obtained, + through their recommendation, the situation in the insurance office that + old Hochon had suggested, which required only three hours of his day. + Mignonnet and Carpentier put him up at their club, where his good manners + and bearing, in keeping with the high opinion which the two officers + expressed about him, won him a respect often given to external appearances + that are only deceitful. + </p> + <p> + Philippe, whose conduct was carefully considered and planned, had indeed + made many reflections while in prison as to the inconveniences of leading + a debauched life. He did not need Desroches’s lecture to understand the + necessity of conciliating the people at Issoudun by decent, sober, and + respectable conduct. Delighted to attract Max’s ridicule by behaving with + the propriety of a Mignonnet, he went further, and endeavored to lull + Gilet’s suspicions by deceiving him as to his real character. He was bent + on being taken for a fool by appearing generous and disinterested; all the + while drawing a net around his adversary, and keeping his eye on his + uncle’s property. His mother and brother, on the contrary, who were really + disinterested, generous, and lofty, had been accused of greed because they + had acted with straightforward simplicity. Philippe’s covetousness was + fully roused by Monsieur Hochon, who gave him all the details of his + uncle’s property. In the first secret conversation which he held with the + octogenarian, they agreed that Philippe must not awaken Max’s suspicions; + for the game would be lost if Flore and Max were to carry off their + victim, though no further than Bourges. + </p> + <p> + Once a week the colonel dined with Mignonnet; another day with Carpentier; + and every Thursday with Monsieur Hochon. At the end of three weeks he + received other invitations for the remaining days, so that he had little + more than his breakfast to provide. He never spoke of his uncle, nor of + the Rabouilleuse, nor of Gilet, unless it were in connection with his + mother and his brother’s stay in Issoudun. The three officers—the + only soldiers in the town who were decorated, and among whom Philippe had + the advantage of the rosette, which in the eyes of all provincials gave + him a marked superiority—took a habit of walking together every day + before dinner, keeping, as the saying is, to themselves. This reserve and + tranquillity of demeanor had an excellent effect on Issoudun. All Max’s + adherents thought Philippe a “sabreur,”—an expression applied by + soldiers to the commonest sort of courage in their superior officers, + while denying that they possess the requisite qualities of a commander. + </p> + <p> + “He is a very honorable man,” said Goddet the surgeon, to Max. + </p> + <p> + “Bah!” replied Gilet, “his behavior before the Court of Peers proves him + to have been either a dupe or a spy; he is, as you say, ninny enough to + have been duped by the great players.” + </p> + <p> + After obtaining his situation, Philippe, who was well informed as to the + gossip of the town, wished to conceal certain circumstances of his present + life as much as possible from the knowledge of the inhabitants; he + therefore went to live in a house at the farther end of the faubourg + Saint-Paterne, to which was attached a large garden. Here he was able in + the utmost secrecy to fence with Carpentier, who had been a fencing-master + in the infantry before entering the cavalry. Philippe soon recovered his + early dexterity, and learned other and new secrets from Carpentier, which + convinced him that he need not fear the prowess of any adversary. This + done, he began openly to practise with pistols, with Mignonnet and + Carpentier, declaring it was for amusement, but really intending to make + Max believe that, in case of a duel, he should rely on that weapon. + Whenever Philippe met Gilet he waited for him to bow first, and answered + the salutation by touching the brim of his hat cavalierly, as an officer + acknowledges the salute of a private. Maxence Gilet gave no sign of + impatience or displeasure; he never uttered a single word about Bridau at + the Cognettes’ where he still gave suppers; although, since Fario’s + attack, the pranks of the Order of Idleness were temporarily suspended. + </p> + <p> + After a while, however, the contempt shown by Lieutenant-colonel Bridau + for the former cavalry captain, Gilet, was a settled fact, which certain + Knights of Idleness, who were less bound to Max than Francois, Baruch, and + three or four others, discussed among themselves. They were much surprised + to see the violent and fiery Max behave with such discretion. No one in + Issoudun, not even Potel or Renard, dared broach so delicate a subject + with him. Potel, somewhat disturbed by this open misunderstanding between + two heroes of the Imperial Guard, suggested that Max might be laying a net + for the colonel; he asserted that some new scheme might be looked for from + the man who had got rid of the mother and one brother by making use of + Fario’s attack upon him, the particulars of which were now no longer a + mystery. Monsieur Hochon had taken care to reveal the truth of Max’s + atrocious accusation to the best people of the town. Thus it happened that + in talking over the situation of the lieutenant-colonel in relation to + Max, and in trying to guess what might spring from their antagonism, the + whole town regarded the two men, from the start, as adversaries. + </p> + <p> + Philippe, who had carefully investigated all the circumstances of his + brother’s arrest and the antecedents of Gilet and the Rabouilleuse, was + finally brought into rather close relations with Fario, who lived near + him. After studying the Spaniard, Philippe thought he might trust a man of + that quality. The two found their hatred so firm a bond of union, that + Fario put himself at Philippe’s disposal, and related all that he knew + about the Knights of Idleness. Philippe promised, in case he succeeded in + obtaining over his uncle the power now exercised by Gilet, to indemnify + Fario for his losses; this bait made the Spaniard his henchman. Maxence + was now face to face with a dangerous foe; he had, as they say in those + parts, some one to handle. Roused by much gossip and various rumors, the + town of Issoudun expected a mortal combat between the two men, who, we + must remark, mutually despised each other. + </p> + <p> + One morning, toward the end of November, Philippe met Monsieur Hochon + about twelve o’clock, in the long avenue of Frapesle, and said to him:— + </p> + <p> + “I have discovered that your grandsons Baruch and Francois are the + intimate friends of Maxence Gilet. The rascals are mixed up in all the + pranks that are played about this town at night. It was through them that + Maxence knew what was said in your house when my mother and brother were + staying there.” + </p> + <p> + “How did you get proof of such a monstrous thing?” + </p> + <p> + “I overheard their conversation one night as they were leaving a + drinking-shop. Your grandsons both owe Max more than three thousand + francs. The scoundrel told the lads to try and find out our intentions; he + reminded them that you had once thought of getting round my uncle by + priestcraft, and declared that nobody but you could guide me; for he + thinks, fortunately, that I am nothing more than a ‘sabreur.’” + </p> + <p> + “My grandsons! is it possible?” + </p> + <p> + “Watch them,” said Philippe. “You will see them coming home along the + place Saint-Jean, at two or three o’clock in the morning, as tipsy as + champagne-corks, and in company with Gilet—” + </p> + <p> + “That’s why the scamps keep so sober at home!” cried Monsieur Hochon. + </p> + <p> + “Fario has told me all about their nocturnal proceedings,” resumed + Philippe; “without him, I should never have suspected them. My uncle is + held down under an absolute thraldom, if I may judge by certain things + which the Spaniard has heard Max say to your boys. I suspect Max and the + Rabouilleuse of a scheme to make sure of the fifty thousand francs’ income + from the Funds, and then, after pulling that feather from their pigeon’s + wing, to run away, I don’t know where, and get married. It is high time to + know what is going on under my uncle’s roof, but I don’t see how to set + about it.” + </p> + <p> + “I will think of it,” said the old man. + </p> + <p> + They separated, for several persons were now approaching. + </p> + <p> + Never, at any time in his life, did Jean-Jacques suffer as he had done + since the first visit of his nephew Philippe. Flore was terrified by the + presentiment of some evil that threatened Max. Weary of her master, and + fearing that he might live to be very old, since he was able to bear up + under their criminal practices, she formed the very simple plan of leaving + Issoudun and being married to Maxence in Paris, after obtaining from + Jean-Jacques the transfer of the income in the Funds. The old bachelor, + guided, not by any justice to his family, nor by personal avarice, but + solely by his passion, steadily refused to make the transfer, on the + ground that Flore was to be his sole heir. The unhappy creature knew to + what extent Flore loved Max, and he believed he would be abandoned the + moment she was made rich enough to marry. When Flore, after employing the + tenderest cajoleries, was unable to succeed, she tried rigor; she no + longer spoke to her master; Vedie was sent to wait upon him, and found him + in the morning with his eyes swollen and red with weeping. For a week or + more, poor Rouget had breakfasted alone, and Heaven knows on what food! + </p> + <p> + The day after Philippe’s conversation with Monsieur Hochon, he determined + to pay a second visit to his uncle, whom he found much changed. Flore + stayed beside the old man, speaking tenderly and looking at him with much + affection; she played the comedy so well that Philippe guessed some + immediate danger, merely from the solicitude thus displayed in his + presence. Gilet, whose policy it was to avoid all collision with Philippe, + did not appear. After watching his uncle and Flore for a time with a + discerning eye, the colonel judged that the time had come to strike his + grand blow. + </p> + <p> + “Adieu, my dear uncle,” he said, rising as if to leave the house. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! don’t go yet,” cried the old man, who was comforted by Flore’s false + tenderness. “Dine with us, Philippe.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, if you will come and take a walk with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur is very feeble,” interposed Mademoiselle Brazier; “just now he + was unwilling even to go out in the carriage,” she added, turning upon the + old man the fixed look with which keepers quell a maniac. + </p> + <p> + Philippe took Flore by the arm, compelling her to look at him, and looking + at her in return as fixedly as she had just looked at her victim. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, mademoiselle,” he said, “is it a fact that my uncle is not free + to take a walk with me?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes he is, monsieur,” replied Flore, who was unable to make any + other answer. + </p> + <p> + “Very well. Come, uncle. Mademoiselle, give him his hat and cane.” + </p> + <p> + “But—he never goes out without me. Do you, monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Philippe, yes; I always want her—” + </p> + <p> + “It would be better to take the carriage,” said Flore. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, let us take the carriage,” cried the old man, in his anxiety to make + his two tyrants agree. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle, you will come with me, alone, and on foot, or I shall never return + here; I shall know that the town of Issoudun tells the truth, when it + declares you are under the dominion of Mademoiselle Flore Brazier. That my + uncle should love you, is all very well,” he resumed, holding Flore with a + fixed eye; “that you should not love my uncle is also on the cards; but + when it comes to your making him unhappy—halt! If people want to get + hold of an inheritance, they must earn it. Are you coming, uncle?” + </p> + <p> + Philippe saw the eyes of the poor imbecile roving from himself to Flore, + in painful hesitation. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! that’s how it is, is it?” resumed the lieutenant-colonel. “Well, + adieu, uncle. Mademoiselle, I kiss your hands.” + </p> + <p> + He turned quickly when he reached the door, and caught Flore in the act of + making a menacing gesture at his uncle. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle,” he said, “if you wish to go with me, I will meet you at your door + in ten minutes: I am now going to see Monsieur Hochon. If you and I do not + take that walk, I shall take upon myself to make some others walk.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, he went away, and crossed the place Saint-Jean to the Hochons. + </p> + <p> + Every one can imagine the scenes which the revelations made by Philippe to + Monsieur Hochon had brought about within that family. At nine o’clock, old + Monsieur Heron, the notary, presented himself with a bundle of papers, and + found a fire in the hall which the old miser, contrary to all his habits, + had ordered to be lighted. Madame Hochon, already dressed at this unusual + hour, was sitting in her armchair at the corner of the fireplace. The two + grandsons, warned the night before by Adolphine that a storm was gathering + about their heads, had been ordered to stay in the house. Summoned now by + Gritte, they were alarmed at the formal preparations of their + grandparents, whose coldness and anger they had been made to feel in the + air for the last twenty-four hours. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t rise for them,” said their grandfather to Monsieur Heron; “you see + before you two miscreants, unworthy of pardon.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, grandpapa!” said Francois. + </p> + <p> + “Be silent!” said the old man sternly. “I know of your nocturnal life and + your intimacy with Monsieur Maxence Gilet. But you will meet him no more + at Mere Cognette’s at one in the morning; for you will not leave this + house, either of you, until you go to your respective destinations. Ha! it + was you who ruined Fario, was it? you, who have narrowly escaped the + police-courts—Hold your tongue!” he said, seeing that Baruch was + about to speak. “You both owe money to Monsieur Maxence Gilet; who, for + six years, has paid for your debauchery. Listen, both of you, to my + guardianship accounts; after that, I shall have more to say. You will see, + after these papers are read, whether you can still trifle with me,—still + trifle with family laws by betraying the secrets of this house, and + reporting to a Monsieur Maxence Gilet what is said and what is done here. + For three thousand francs, you became spies; for ten thousand, you would, + no doubt, become assassins. You did almost kill Madame Bridau; for + Monsieur Gilet knew very well it was Fario who stabbed him when he threw + the crime upon my guest, Monsieur Joseph Bridau. If that jail-bird did so + wicked an act, it was because you told him what Madame Bridau meant to do. + You, my grandsons, the spies of such a man! You, house-breakers and + marauders! Don’t you know that your worthy leader killed a poor young + woman, in 1806? I will not have assassins and thieves in my family. Pack + your things; you shall go hang elsewhere!” + </p> + <p> + The two young men turned white and stiff as plaster casts. + </p> + <p> + “Read on, Monsieur Heron,” said Hochon. + </p> + <p> + The old notary read the guardianship accounts; from which it appeared that + the net fortune of the two Borniche children amounted to seventy thousand + francs, a sum derived from the dowry of their mother: but Monsieur Hochon + had lent his daughter various large sums, and was now, as creditor, the + owner of a part of the property of his Borniche grandchildren. The portion + coming to Baruch amounted to only twenty thousand francs. + </p> + <p> + “Now you are rich,” said the old man, “take your money, and go. I remain + master of my own property and that of Madame Hochon, who in this matter + shares all my intentions, and I shall give it to whom I choose; namely, + our dear Adolphine. Yes, we can marry her if we please to the son of a + peer of France, for she will be an heiress.” + </p> + <p> + “A noble fortune!” said Monsieur Heron. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Maxence Gilet will make up this loss to you,” said Madame + Hochon. + </p> + <p> + “Let my hard-saved money go to a scapegrace like you? no, indeed!” cried + Monsieur Hochon. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me!” stammered Baruch. + </p> + <p> + “‘Forgive, and I won’t do it again,’” sneered the old man, imitating a + child’s voice. “If I were to forgive you, and let you out of this house, + you would go and tell Monsieur Maxence what has happened, and warn him to + be on his guard. No, no, my little men. I shall keep my eye on you, and I + have means of knowing what you do. As you behave, so shall I behave to + you. It will be by a long course of good conduct, not that of a day or a + month, but of years, that I shall judge you. I am strong on my legs, my + eyes are good, my health is sound; I hope to live long enough to see what + road you take. Your first move will be to Paris, where you will study + banking under Messieurs Mongenod and Sons. Ill-luck to you if you don’t + walk straight; you will be watched. Your property is in the hand of + Messieurs Mongenod; here is a cheque for the amount. Now then, release me + as guardian, and sign the accounts, and also this receipt,” he added, + taking the papers from Monsieur Heron and handing them to Baruch. + </p> + <p> + “As for you, Francois Hochon, you owe me money instead of having any to + receive,” said the old man, looking at his other grandson. “Monsieur + Heron, read his account; it is all clear—perfectly clear.” + </p> + <p> + The reading was done in the midst of perfect stillness. + </p> + <p> + “You will have six hundred francs a year, and with that you will go to + Poitiers and study law,” said the grandfather, when the notary had + finished. “I had a fine life in prospect for you; but now, you must earn + your living as a lawyer. Ah! my young rascals, you have deceived me for + six years; you now know it has taken me but one hour to get even with you: + I have seven-leagued boots.” + </p> + <p> + Just as old Monsieur Heron was preparing to leave with the signed papers, + Gritte announced Colonel Bridau. Madame Hochon left the room, taking her + grandsons with her, that she might, as old Hochon said, confess them + privately and find out what effect this scene had produced upon them. + </p> + <p> + Philippe and the old man stood in the embrasure of a window and spoke in + low tones. + </p> + <p> + “I have been reflecting on the state of your affairs over there,” said + Monsieur Hochon pointing to the Rouget house. “I have just had a talk with + Monsieur Heron. The security for the fifty thousand francs a year from the + property in the Funds cannot be sold unless by the owner himself or some + one with a power of attorney from him. Now, since your arrival here, your + uncle has not signed any such power before any notary; and, as he has not + left Issoudun, he can’t have signed one elsewhere. If he attempts to give + a power of attorney here, we shall know it instantly; if he goes away to + give one, we shall also know it, for it will have to be registered, and + that excellent Heron has means of finding it out. Therefore, if Rouget + leaves Issoudun, have him followed, learn where he goes, and we will find + a way to discover what he does.” + </p> + <p> + “The power of attorney has not been given,” said Philippe; “they are + trying to get it; but—they—will—not—suc—ceed—” + added the vagabond, whose eye just then caught sight of his uncle on the + steps of the opposite house: he pointed him out to Monsieur Hochon, and + related succinctly the particulars, at once so petty and so important, of + his visit. + </p> + <p> + “Maxence is afraid of me, but he can’t evade me. Mignonnet says that all + the officers of the old army who are in Issoudun give a yearly banquet on + the anniversary of the Emperor’s coronation; so Maxence Gilet and I are + sure to meet in a few days.” + </p> + <p> + “If he gets a power of attorney by the morning of the first of December,” + said Hochon, “he might take the mail-post for Paris, and give up the + banquet.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good. The first thing is, then, to get possession of my uncle; I’ve + an eye that cows a fool,” said Philippe, giving Monsieur Hochon an + atrocious glance that made the old man tremble. + </p> + <p> + “If they let him walk with you, Maxence must believe he has found some + means to win the game,” remarked the old miser. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Fario is on the watch,” said Philippe, “and he is not alone. That + Spaniard has discovered one of my old soldiers in the neighborhood of + Vatan, a man I once did some service to. Without any one’s suspecting it, + Benjamin Bourdet is under Fario’s orders, who has lent him a horse to get + about with.” + </p> + <p> + “If you kill that monster who has corrupted my grandsons, I shall say you + have done a good deed.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks to me, the town of Issoudun now knows what Monsieur Maxence Gilet + has been doing at night for the last six years,” replied Philippe; “and + the cackle, as you call it here, is now started on him. Morally his day is + over.” + </p> + <p> + The moment Philippe left his uncle’s house Flore went to Max’s room to + tell him every particular of the nephew’s bold visit. + </p> + <p> + “What’s to be done?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Before trying the last means,—which will be to fight that big + reprobate,” replied Maxence, “—we must play double or quits, and try + our grand stroke. Let the old idiot go with his nephew.” + </p> + <p> + “But that big brute won’t mince matters,” remonstrated Flore; “he’ll call + things by their right names.” + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me,” said Maxence in a harsh voice. “Do you think I’ve not kept + my ears open, and reflected about how we stand? Send to Pere Cognette for + a horse and a char-a-banc, and say we want them instantly: they must be + here in five minutes. Pack all your belongings, take Vedie, and go to + Vatan. Settle yourself there as if you mean to stay; carry off the twenty + thousand francs in gold which the old fellow has got in his drawer. If I + bring him to you in Vatan, you are to refuse to come back here unless he + signs the power of attorney. As soon as we get it I’ll slip off to Paris, + while you’re returning to Issoudun. When Jean-Jacques gets back from his + walk and finds you gone, he’ll go beside himself, and want to follow you. + Well! when he does, I’ll give him a talking to.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <p> + While the foregoing plot was progressing, Philippe was walking arm in arm + with his uncle along the boulevard Baron. + </p> + <p> + “The two great tacticians are coming to close quarters at last,” thought + Monsieur Hochon as he watched the colonel marching off with his uncle; “I + am curious to see the end of the game, and what becomes of the stake of + ninety thousand francs a year.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear uncle,” said Philippe, whose phraseology had a flavor of his + affinities in Paris, “you love this girl, and you are devilishly right. + She is damnably handsome! Instead of billing and cooing she makes you trot + like a valet; well, that’s all simple enough; but she wants to see you six + feet underground, so that she may marry Max, whom she adores.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that, Philippe, but I love her all the same.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I have sworn by the soul of my mother, who is your own sister,” + continued Philippe, “to make your Rabouilleuse as supple as my glove, and + the same as she was before that scoundrel, who is unworthy to have served + in the Imperial Guard, ever came to quarter himself in your house.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! if you could do that!—” said the old man. + </p> + <p> + “It is very easy,” answered Philippe, cutting his uncle short. “I’ll kill + Max as I would a dog; but—on one condition,” added the old + campaigner. + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” said Rouget, looking at his nephew in a stupid way. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t sign that power of attorney which they want of you before the third + of December; put them off till then. Your torturers only want it to enable + them to sell the fifty thousand a year you have in the Funds, so that they + may run off to Paris and pay for their wedding festivities out of your + millions.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid so,” replied Rouget. + </p> + <p> + “Well, whatever they may say or do to you, put off giving that power of + attorney until next week.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but when Flore talks to me she stirs my very soul, till I don’t know + what I do. I give you my word, when she looks at me in a certain way, her + blue eyes seem like paradise, and I am no longer master of myself,—especially + when for some days she had been harsh to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, whether she is sweet or sour, don’t do more than promise to sign + the paper, and let me know the night before you are going to do it. That + will answer. Maxence shall not be your proxy unless he first kills me. If + I kill him, you must agree to take me in his place, and I’ll undertake to + break in that handsome girl and keep her at your beck and call. Yes, Flore + shall love you, and if she doesn’t satisfy you—thunder! I’ll thrash + her.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I never could allow that. A blow struck at Flore would break my + heart.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is the only way to govern women and horses. A man makes himself + feared, or loved, or respected. Now that is what I wanted to whisper in + your ear—Good-morning, gentlemen,” he said to Mignonnet and + Carpentier, who came up at the moment; “I am taking my uncle for a walk, + as you see, and trying to improve him; for we are in an age when children + are obliged to educate their grandparents.” + </p> + <p> + They all bowed to each other. + </p> + <p> + “You behold in my dear uncle the effects of an unhappy passion. Those two + want to strip him of his fortune and leave him in the lurch—you know + to whom I refer? He sees the plot; but he hasn’t the courage to give up + his SUGAR-PLUM for a few days so as to baffle it.” + </p> + <p> + Philippe briefly explained his uncle’s position. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” he remarked, in conclusion, “you see there are no two ways of + saving him: either Colonel Bridau must kill Captain Gilet, or Captain + Gilet must kill Colonel Bridau. We celebrate the Emperor’s coronation on + the day after to-morrow; I rely upon you to arrange the seats at the + banquet so that I shall sit opposite to Gilet. You will do me the honor, I + hope, of being my seconds.” + </p> + <p> + “We will appoint you to preside, and sit ourselves on either side of you. + Max, as vice-president, will of course sit opposite,” said Mignonnet. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! the scoundrel will have Potel and Renard with him,” said Carpentier. + “In spite of all that Issoudun now knows and says of his midnight + maraudings, those two worthy officers, who have already been his seconds, + remain faithful to him.” + </p> + <p> + “You see how it all maps out, uncle,” said Philippe. “Therefore, sign no + paper before the third of December; the next day you shall be free, happy, + and beloved by Flore, without having to coax for it.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t know him, Philippe,” said the terrified old man. “Maxence has + killed nine men in duels.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but ninety thousand francs a year didn’t depend on it,” answered + Philippe. + </p> + <p> + “A bad conscience shakes the hand,” remarked Mignonnet sententiously. + </p> + <p> + “In a few days from now,” resumed Philippe, “you and the Rabouilleuse will + be living together as sweet as honey,—that is, after she gets + through mourning. At first she’ll twist like a worm, and yelp, and weep; + but never mind, let the water run!” + </p> + <p> + The two soldiers approved of Philippe’s arguments, and tried to hearten up + old Rouget, with whom they walked about for nearly two hours. At last + Philippe took his uncle home, saying as they parted:— + </p> + <p> + “Don’t take any steps without me. I know women. I have paid for one, who + cost me far more than Flore can ever cost you. But she taught me how to + behave to the fair sex for the rest of my days. Women are bad children; + they are inferior animals to men; we must make them fear us; the worst + condition in the world is to be governed by such brutes.” + </p> + <p> + It was about half-past two in the afternoon when the old man got home. + Kouski opened the door in tears,—that is, by Max’s orders, he gave + signs of weeping. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Monsieur, Madame has gone away, and taken Vedie with her!” + </p> + <p> + “Gone—a—way!” said the old man in a strangled voice. + </p> + <p> + The blow was so violent that Rouget sat down on the stairs, unable to + stand. A moment after, he rose, looked about the hall, into the kitchen, + went up to his own room, searched all the chambers, and returned to the + salon, where he threw himself into a chair, and burst into tears. + </p> + <p> + “Where is she?” he sobbed. “Oh! where is she? where is Max?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” answered Kouski. “The captain went out without telling + me.” + </p> + <p> + Gilet thought it politic to be seen sauntering about the town. By leaving + the old man alone with his despair, he knew he should make him feel his + desertion the more keenly, and reduce him to docility. To keep Philippe + from assisting his uncle at this crisis, he had given Kouski strict orders + not to open the door to any one. Flore away, the miserable old man grew + frantic, and the situation of things approached a crisis. During his walk + through the town, Maxence Gilet was avoided by many persons who a day or + two earlier would have hastened to shake hands with him. A general + reaction had set in against him. The deeds of the Knights of Idleness were + ringing on every tongue. The tale of Joseph Bridau’s arrest, now cleared + up, disgraced Max in the eyes of all; and his life and conduct received in + one day their just award. Gilet met Captain Potel, who was looking for + him, and seemed almost beside himself. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter with you, Potel?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow, the Imperial Guard is being black-guarded all over the + town! These civilians are crying you down! and it goes to the bottom of my + heart.” + </p> + <p> + “What are they complaining of?” asked Max. + </p> + <p> + “Of what you do at night.” + </p> + <p> + “As if we couldn’t amuse ourselves a little!” + </p> + <p> + “But that isn’t all,” said Potel. + </p> + <p> + Potel belonged to the same class as the officer who replied to the + burgomasters: “Eh! your town will be paid for, if we do burn it!” So he + was very little troubled about the deeds of the Order of Idleness. + </p> + <p> + “What more?” inquired Gilet. + </p> + <p> + “The Guard is against the Guard. It is that that breaks my heart. Bridau + has set all these bourgeois on you. The Guard against the Guard! no, it + ought not to be! You can’t back down, Max; you must meet Bridau. I had a + great mind to pick a quarrel with the low scoundrel myself and send him to + the shades; I wish I had, and then the bourgeois wouldn’t have seen the + spectacle of the Guard against the Guard. In war times, I don’t say + anything against it. Two heroes of the Guard may quarrel, and fight,—but + at least there are no civilians to look on and sneer. No, I say that big + villain never served in the Guard. A guardsman would never behave as he + does to another guardsman, under the very eyes of the bourgeois; + impossible! Ah! it’s all wrong; the Guard is disgraced—and here, at + Issoudun! where it was once so honored.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, Potel, don’t worry yourself,” answered Max; “even if you do not see + me at the banquet—” + </p> + <p> + “What! do you mean that you won’t be there the day after to-morrow?” cried + Potel, interrupting his friend. “Do you wish to be called a coward? and + have it said you are running away from Bridau? No, no! The unmounted + grenadiers of the Guard can not draw back before the dragoons of the + Guard. Arrange your business in some other way and be there!” + </p> + <p> + “One more to send to the shades!” said Max. “Well, I think I can manage my + business so as to get there—For,” he thought to himself, “that power + of attorney ought not to be in my name; as old Heron says, it would look + too much like theft.” + </p> + <p> + This lion, tangled in the meshes Philippe Bridau was weaving for him, + muttered between his teeth as he went along; he avoided the looks of those + he met and returned home by the boulevard Vilatte, still talking to + himself. + </p> + <p> + “I will have that money before I fight,” he said. “If I die, it shall not + go to Philippe. I must put it in Flore’s name. She will follow my + instructions, and go straight to Paris. Once there, she can marry, if she + chooses, the son of some marshal of France who has been sent to the + right-about. I’ll have that power of attorney made in Baruch’s name, and + he’ll transfer the property by my order.” + </p> + <p> + Max, to do him justice, was never more cool and calm in appearance than + when his blood and his ideas were boiling. No man ever united in a higher + degree the qualities which make a great general. If his career had not + been cut short by his captivity at Cabrera, the Emperor would certainly + have found him one of those men who are necessary to the success of vast + enterprises. When he entered the room where the hapless victim of all + these comic and tragic scenes was still weeping, Max asked the meaning of + such distress; seemed surprised, pretended that he knew nothing, and + heard, with well-acted amazement, of Flore’s departure. He questioned + Kouski, to obtain some light on the object of this inexplicable journey. + </p> + <p> + “Madame said like this,” Kouski replied, “—that I was to tell + monsieur she had taken twenty thousand francs in gold from his drawer, + thinking that monsieur wouldn’t refuse her that amount as wages for the + last twenty-two years.” + </p> + <p> + “Wages?” exclaimed Rouget. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied Kouski. “Ah! I shall never come back,” she said to Vedie as + she drove away. “Poor Vedie, who is so attached to monsieur, remonstrated + with madame. ‘No, no,’ she answered, ‘he has no affection for me; he lets + his nephew treat me like the lowest of the low’; and she wept—oh! + bitterly.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh! what do I care for Philippe?” cried the old man, whom Max was + watching. “Where is Flore? how can we find out where she is?” + </p> + <p> + “Philippe, whose advice you follow, will help you,” said Max coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Philippe?” said the old man, “what has he to do with the poor child? + There is no one but you, my good Max, who can find Flore. She will follow + you—you could bring her back to me—” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t wish to oppose Monsieur Bridau,” observed Max. + </p> + <p> + “As for that,” cried Rouget, “if that hinders you, he told me he meant to + kill you.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” exclaimed Gilet, laughing, “we will see about it!” + </p> + <p> + “My friend,” said the old man, “find Flore, and I will do all she wants of + me.” + </p> + <p> + “Some one must have seen her as she passed through the town,” said Maxence + to Kouski. “Serve dinner; put everything on the table, and then go and + make inquiries from place to place. Let us know, by dessert, which road + Mademoiselle Brazier has taken.” + </p> + <p> + This order quieted for a time the poor creature, who was moaning like a + child that has lost its nurse. At this moment Rouget, who hated Max, + thought his tormentor an angel. A passion like that of this miserable old + man for Flore is astonishingly like the emotions of childhood. At six + o’clock, the Pole, who had merely taken a walk, returned to announce that + Flore had driven towards Vatan. + </p> + <p> + “Madame is going back to her own people, that’s plain,” said Kouski. + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to go to Vatan to-night?” said Max. “The road is bad, but + Kouski knows how to drive, and you’ll make your peace better to-night than + to-morrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us go!” cried Rouget. + </p> + <p> + “Put the horse in quietly,” said Max to Kouski; “manage, if you can, that + the town shall not know of this nonsense, for Monsieur Rouget’s sake. + Saddle my horse,” he added in a whisper. “I will ride on ahead of you.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Hochon had already notified Philippe of Flore’s departure; and + the colonel rose from Monsieur Mignonnet’s dinner-table to rush to the + place Saint-Jean; for he at once guessed the meaning of this clever + strategy. When Philippe presented himself at his uncle’s house, Kouski + answered through a window that Monsieur Rouget was unable to see any one. + </p> + <p> + “Fario,” said Philippe to the Spaniard, who was stationed in the + Grande-Narette, “go and tell Benjamin to mount his horse; it is + all-important that I shall know what Gilet does with my uncle.” + </p> + <p> + “They are now putting the horse into the caleche,” said Fario, who had + been watching the Rouget stable. + </p> + <p> + “If they go towards Vatan,” answered Philippe, “get me another horse, and + come yourself with Benjamin to Monsieur Mignonnet’s.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean to do?” asked Monsieur Hochon, who had come out of his + own house when he saw Philippe and Fario standing together. + </p> + <p> + “The genius of a general, my dear Monsieur Hochon,” said Philippe, + “consists not only in carefully observing the enemy’s movements, but also + in guessing his intentions from those movements, and in modifying his own + plan whenever the enemy interferes with it by some unexpected action. Now, + if my uncle and Max drive out together, they are going to Vatan; Maxence + will have promised to reconcile him with Flore, who ‘fugit ad salices,’—the + manoeuvre is General Virgil’s. If that’s the line they take, I don’t yet + know what I shall do; I shall have some hours to think it over, for my + uncle can’t sign a power of attorney at ten o’clock at night; the notaries + will all be in bed. If, as I rather fancy, Max goes on in advance of my + uncle to teach Flore her lesson,—which seems necessary and probable,—the + rogue is lost! you will see the sort of revenge we old soldiers take in a + game of this kind. Now, as I need a helper for this last stroke, I must go + back to Mignonnet’s and make an arrangement with my friend Carpentier.” + </p> + <p> + Shaking hands with Monsieur Hochon, Philippe went off down the + Petite-Narette to Mignonnet’s house. Ten minutes later, Monsieur Hochon + saw Max ride off at a quick trot; and the old miser’s curiosity was so + powerfully excited that he remained standing at his window, eagerly + expecting to hear the wheels of the old demi-fortune, which was not long + in coming. Jean-Jacques’s impatience made him follow Max within twenty + minutes. Kouski, no doubt under orders from his master, walked the horse + through the town. + </p> + <p> + “If they get to Paris, all is lost,” thought Monsieur Hochon. + </p> + <p> + At this moment, a lad from the faubourg de Rome came to the Hochon house + with a letter for Baruch. The two grandsons, much subdued by the events of + the morning, had kept their rooms of their own accord during the day. + Thinking over their prospects, they saw plainly that they had better be + cautious with their grandparents. Baruch knew very well the influence + which his grandfather Hochon exerted over his grandfather and grandmother + Borniche: Monsieur Hochon would not hesitate to get their property for + Adolphine if his conduct were such as to make them pin their hopes on the + grand marriage with which his grandfather had threatened him that morning. + Being richer than Francois, Baruch had the most to lose; he therefore + counselled an absolute surrender, with no other condition than the payment + of their debt to Max. As for Francois, his future was entirely in the + hands of his grandfather; he had no expectations except from him, and by + the guardianship account, he was now his debtor. The two young men + accordingly gave solemn promises of amendment, prompted by their + imperilled interests, and by the hope Madame Hochon held out, that the + debt to Max should be paid. + </p> + <p> + “You have done very wrong,” she said to them; “repair it by future good + conduct, and Monsieur Hochon will forget it.” + </p> + <p> + So, when Francois had read the letter which had been brought for Baruch, + over the latter’s shoulder, he whispered in his ear, “Ask grandpapa’s + advice.” + </p> + <p> + “Read this,” said Baruch, taking the letter to old Hochon. + </p> + <p> + “Read it to me yourself; I haven’t my spectacles.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My dear Friend,—I hope you will not hesitate, under the serious + circumstances in which I find myself, to do me the service of + receiving a power of attorney from Monsieur Rouget. Be at Vatan + to-morrow morning at nine o’clock. I shall probably send you to + Paris, but don’t be uneasy; I will furnish you with money for the + journey, and join you there immediately. I am almost sure I shall + be obliged to leave Issoudun, December third. + + Adieu. I count on your friendship; rely on that of your friend, + + Maxence +</pre> + <p> + “God be praised!” exclaimed Monsieur Hochon; “the property of that old + idiot is saved from the claws of the devil.” + </p> + <p> + “It will be if you say so,” said Madame Hochon; “and I thank God,—who + has no doubt heard my prayers. The prosperity of the wicked is always + fleeting.” + </p> + <p> + “You must go to Vatan, and accept the power of attorney from Monsieur + Rouget,” said the old man to Baruch. “Their object is to get fifty + thousand francs a year transferred to Mademoiselle Brazier. They will send + you to Paris, and you must seem to go; but you are to stop at Orleans, and + wait there till you hear from me. Let no one—not a soul—know + where you lodge; go to the first inn you come to in the faubourg Bannier, + no matter if it is only a post-house—” + </p> + <p> + “Look here!” cried Francois, who had rushed to the window at the sudden + noise of wheels in the Grande-Narette. “Here’s something new!—Pere + Rouget and Colonel Bridau coming back together in the caleche, Benjamin + and Captain Carpentier following on horseback!” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll go over,” cried Monsieur Hochon, whose curiosity carried the day + over every other feeling. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Hochon found old Rouget in his bedroom, writing the following + letter at his nephew’s dictation: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Mademoiselle,—If you do not start to return here the moment you + receive this letter, your conduct will show such ingratitude for + all my goodness that I shall revoke the will I have made in your + favor, and give my property to my nephew Philippe. You will + understand that Monsieur Gilet can no longer be my guest after + staying with you at Vatan. I send this letter by Captain + Carpentier, who will put it into your own hands. I hope you will + listen to his advice; he will speak to you with authority from me. + Your affectionate + + J.-J. Rouget. +</pre> + <p> + “Captain Carpentier and I MET my uncle, who was so foolish as to follow + Mademoiselle Brazier and Monsieur Gilet to Vatan,” said Philippe, with + sarcastic emphasis, to Monsieur Hochon. “I have made my uncle see that he + was running his head into a noose; for that girl will abandon him the + moment she gets him to sign a power of attorney, by which they mean to + obtain the income of his money in the Funds. That letter will bring her + back under his roof, the handsome runaway! this very night, or I’m + mistaken. I promise to make her as pliable as a bit of whalebone for the + rest of her days, if my uncle allows me to take Maxence Gilet’s place; + which, in my opinion, he ought never to have had in the first place. Am I + not right?—and yet here’s my uncle bemoaning himself!” + </p> + <p> + “Neighbor,” said Monsieur Hochon, “you have taken the best means to get + peace in your household. Destroy your will, and Flore will be once more + what she used to be in the early days.” + </p> + <p> + “No, she will never forgive me for what I have made her suffer,” whimpered + the old man; “she will no longer love me.” + </p> + <p> + “She shall love you, and closely too; I’ll take care of that,” said + Philippe. + </p> + <p> + “Come, open your eyes!” exclaimed Monsieur Hochon. “They mean to rob you + and abandon you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I was sure of it!” cried the poor imbecile. + </p> + <p> + “See, here is a letter Maxence has written to my grandson Borniche,” said + old Hochon. “Read it.” + </p> + <p> + “What infamy!” exclaimed Carpentier, as he listened to the letter, which + Rouget read aloud, weeping. + </p> + <p> + “Is that plain enough, uncle?” demanded Philippe. “Hold that hussy by her + interests and she’ll adore you as you deserve.” + </p> + <p> + “She loves Maxence too well; she will leave me,” cried the frightened old + man. + </p> + <p> + “But, uncle, Maxence or I,—one or the other of us—won’t leave + our footsteps in the dust of Issoudun three days hence.” + </p> + <p> + “Well then go, Monsieur Carpentier,” said Rouget; “if you promise me to + bring her back, go! You are a good man; say to her in my name all you + think you ought to say.” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Carpentier will whisper in her ear that I have sent to Paris for + a woman whose youth and beauty are captivating; that will bring the jade + back in a hurry!” + </p> + <p> + The captain departed, driving himself in the old caleche; Benjamin + accompanied him on horseback, for Kouski was nowhere to be found. Though + threatened by the officers with arrest and the loss of his situation, the + Pole had gone to Vatan on a hired horse, to warn Max and Flore of the + adversary’s move. After fulfilling his mission, Carpentier, who did not + wish to drive back with Flore, was to change places with Benjamin, and + take the latter’s horse. + </p> + <p> + When Philippe was told of Kouski’s flight he said to Benjamin, “You will + take the Pole’s place, from this time on. It is all mapping out, papa + Hochon!” cried the lieutenant-colonel. “That banquet will be jovial!” + </p> + <p> + “You will come and live here, of course,” said the old miser. + </p> + <p> + “I have told Fario to send me all my things,” answered Philippe. “I shall + sleep in the room adjoining Gilet’s apartment,—if my uncle + consents.” + </p> + <p> + “What will come of all this?” cried the terrified old man. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle Flore Brazier is coming, gentle as a paschal lamb,” replied + Monsieur Hochon. + </p> + <p> + “God grant it!” exclaimed Rouget, wiping his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “It is now seven o’clock,” said Philippe; “the sovereign of your heart + will be here at half-past eleven: you’ll never see Gilet again, and you + will be as happy ever after as a pope.—If you want me to succeed,” + he whispered to Monsieur Hochon, “stay here till the hussy comes; you can + help me in keeping the old man up to his resolution; and, together, we’ll + make that crab-girl see on which side her bread is buttered.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Hochon felt the reasonableness of the request and stayed: but + they had their hands full, for old Rouget gave way to childish + lamentations, which were only quieted by Philippe’s repeating over and + over a dozen times:— + </p> + <p> + “Uncle, you will see that I am right when Flore returns to you as tender + as ever. You shall be petted; you will save your property: be guided by my + advice, and you’ll live in paradise for the rest of your days.” + </p> + <p> + When, about half-past eleven, wheels were heard in the Grande-Narette, the + question was, whether the carriage were returning full or empty. Rouget’s + face wore an expression of agony, which changed to the prostration of + excessive joy when he saw the two women, as the carriage turned to enter + the courtyard. + </p> + <p> + “Kouski,” said Philippe, giving a hand to Flore to help her down. “You are + no longer in Monsieur Rouget’s service. You will not sleep here to-night; + get your things together, and go. Benjamin takes your place.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you the master here?” said Flore sarcastically. + </p> + <p> + “With your permission,” replied Philippe, squeezing her hand as if in a + vice. “Come! we must have an understanding, you and I”; and he led the + bewildered woman out into the place Saint-Jean. + </p> + <p> + “My fine lady,” began the old campaigner, stretching out his right hand, + “three days hence, Maxence Gilet will be sent to the shades by that arm, + or his will have taken me off guard. If I die, you will be the mistress of + my poor imbecile uncle; ‘bene sit.’ If I remain on my pins, you’ll have to + walk straight, and keep him supplied with first-class happiness. If you + don’t, I know girls in Paris who are, with all due respect, much prettier + than you; for they are only seventeen years old: they would make my uncle + excessively happy, and they are in my interests. Begin your attentions + this very evening; if the old man is not as gay as a lark to-morrow + morning, I have only a word to say to you; it is this, pay attention to + it,—there is but one way to kill a man without the interference of + the law, and that is to fight a duel with him; but I know three ways to + get rid of a woman: mind that, my beauty!” + </p> + <p> + During this address, Flore shook like a person with the ague. + </p> + <p> + “Kill Max—?” she said, gazing at Philippe in the moonlight. + </p> + <p> + “Come, here’s my uncle.” + </p> + <p> + Old Rouget, turning a deaf ear to Monsieur Hochon’s remonstrances, now + came out into the street, and took Flore by the hand, as a miser might + have grasped his treasure; he drew her back to the house and into his own + room and shut the door. + </p> + <p> + “This is Saint-Lambert’s day, and he who deserts his place, loses it,” + remarked Benjamin to the Pole. + </p> + <p> + “My master will shut your mouth for you,” answered Kouski, departing to + join Max who established himself at the hotel de la Poste. + </p> + <p> + On the morrow, between nine and eleven o’clock, all the women talked to + each other from door to door throughout the town. The story of the + wonderful change in the Rouget household spread everywhere. The upshot of + the conversations was the same on all sides,— + </p> + <p> + “What will happen at the banquet between Max and Colonel Bridau?” + </p> + <p> + Philippe said but few words to the Vedie,—“Six hundred francs’ + annuity, or dismissal.” They were enough, however, to keep her neutral, + for a time, between the two great powers, Philippe and Flore. + </p> + <p> + Knowing Max’s life to be in danger, Flore became more affectionate to + Rouget than in the first days of their alliance. Alas! in love, a + self-interested devotion is sometimes more agreeable than a truthful one; + and that is why many men pay so much for clever deceivers. The + Rabouilleuse did not appear till the next morning, when she came down to + breakfast with Rouget on her arm. Tears filled her eyes as she beheld, + sitting in Max’s place, the terrible adversary, with his sombre blue eyes, + and the cold, sinister expression on his face. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter, mademoiselle?” he said, after wishing his uncle + good-morning. + </p> + <p> + “She can’t endure the idea of your fighting Maxence,” said old Rouget. + </p> + <p> + “I have not the slightest desire to kill Gilet,” answered Philippe. “He + need only take himself off from Issoudun and go to America on a venture. I + should be the first to advise you to give him an outfit, and to wish him a + safe voyage. He would soon make a fortune there, and that is far more + honorable than turning Issoudun topsy-turvy at night, and playing the + devil in your household.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that’s fair enough,” said Rouget, glancing at Flore. + </p> + <p> + “A-mer-i-ca!” she ejaculated, sobbing. + </p> + <p> + “It is better to kick his legs about in a free country than have them rot + in a pine box in France. However, perhaps you think he is a good shot, and + can kill me; it’s on the cards,” observed the colonel. + </p> + <p> + “Will you let me speak to him?” said Flore, imploring Philippe in a humble + and submissive tone. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; he can come here and pack up his things. I will stay with my + uncle during that time; for I shall not leave the old man again,” replied + Philippe. + </p> + <p> + “Vedie,” cried Flore, “run to the hotel, and tell Monsieur Gilet that I + beg him—” + </p> + <p> + “—to come and get his belongings,” said Philippe, interrupting + Flore’s message. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, Vedie; that will be a good pretext to see me; I must speak to + him.” + </p> + <p> + Terror controlled her hatred; and the shock which her whole being + experienced when she first encountered this strong and pitiless nature was + now so overwhelming that she bowed before Philippe just as Rouget had been + in the habit of bending before her. She anxiously awaited Vedie’s return. + The woman brought a formal refusal from Max, who requested Mademoiselle + Brazier to send his things to the hotel de la Poste. + </p> + <p> + “Will you allow me to take them to him?” she said to Jean-Jacques Rouget. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but will you come back?” said the old man. + </p> + <p> + “If Mademoiselle is not back by midday, you will give me a power of + attorney to attend to your property,” said Philippe, looking at Flore. + “Take Vedie with you, to save appearances, mademoiselle. In future you are + to think of my uncle’s honor.” + </p> + <p> + Flore could get nothing out of Max. Desperate at having allowed himself, + before the eyes of the whole town, to be routed out of his shameless + position, Gilet was too proud to run away from Philippe. The Rabouilleuse + combated this objection, and proposed that they should fly together to + America; but Max, who did not want Flore without her money, and yet did + not wish the girl to see the bottom of his heart, insisted on his + intention of killing Philippe. + </p> + <p> + “We have committed a monstrous folly,” he said. “We ought all three to + have gone to Paris and spent the winter there; but how could one guess, + from the mere sight of that fellow’s big carcass, that things would turn + out as they have? The turn of events is enough to make one giddy! I took + the colonel for one of those fire-eaters who haven’t two ideas in their + head; that was the blunder I made. As I didn’t have the sense to double + like a hare in the beginning, I’ll not be such a coward as to back down + before him. He has lowered me in the estimation of this town, and I cannot + get back what I have lost unless I kill him.” + </p> + <p> + “Go to America with forty thousand francs. I’ll find a way to get rid of + that scoundrel, and join you. It would be much wiser.” + </p> + <p> + “What would people say of me?” he exclaimed. “No; I have buried nine + already. The fellow doesn’t seem as if he knew much; he went from school + to the army, and there he was always fighting till 1815; then he went to + America, and I doubt if the brute ever set foot in a fencing-alley; while + I have no match with the sabre. The sabre is his arm; I shall seem very + generous in offering it to him,—for I mean, if possible, to let him + insult me,—and I can easily run him through. Unquestionably, it is + my wisest course. Don’t be uneasy; we shall be masters of the field in a + couple of days.” + </p> + <p> + That it was that a stupid point of honor had more influence over Max than + sound policy. When Flore got home she shut herself up to cry at ease. + During the whole of that day gossip ran wild in Issoudun, and the duel + between Philippe and Maxence was considered inevitable. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Monsieur Hochon,” said Mignonnet, who, accompanied by Carpentier, met + the old man on the boulevard Baron, “we are very uneasy; for Gilet is + clever with all weapons.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” said the old provincial diplomatist; “Philippe has managed + this thing well from the beginning. I should never have thought that big, + easy-going fellow would have succeeded as he has. The two have rolled + together like a couple of thunder-clouds.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Carpentier, “Philippe is a remarkable man. His conduct before + the Court of Peers was a masterpiece of diplomacy.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Captain Renard,” said one of the townsfolk to Max’s friend. “They + say wolves don’t devour each other, but it seems that Max is going to set + his teeth in Colonel Bridau. That’s pretty serious among you gentlemen of + the Old Guard.” + </p> + <p> + “You make fun of it, do you? Because the poor fellow amused himself a + little at night, you are all against him,” said Potel. “But Gilet is a man + who couldn’t stay in a hole like Issoudun without finding something to + do.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, gentlemen,” remarked another, “Max and the colonel must play out + their game. Bridau had to avenge his brother. Don’t you remember Max’s + treachery to the poor lad?” + </p> + <p> + “Bah! nothing but an artist,” said Renard. + </p> + <p> + “But the real question is about the old man’s property,” said a third. + “They say Monsieur Gilet was laying hands on fifty thousand francs a year, + when the colonel turned him out of his uncle’s house.” + </p> + <p> + “Gilet rob a man! Come, don’t say that to any one but me, Monsieur + Canivet,” cried Potel. “If you do, I’ll make you swallow your tongue,—and + without any sauce.” + </p> + <p> + Every household in town offered prayers for the honorable Colonel Bridau. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <p> + Towards four o’clock the following day, the officers of the old army who + were at Issoudun or its environs, were sauntering about the place du + Marche, in front of an eating-house kept by a man named Lacroix, and + waiting the arrival of Colonel Philippe Bridau. The banquet in honor of + the coronation was to take place with military punctuality at five + o’clock. Various groups of persons were talking of Max’s discomfiture, and + his dismissal from old Rouget’s house; for not only were the officers to + dine at Lacroix’s, but the common soldiers had determined on a meeting at + a neighboring wine-shop. Among the officers, Potel and Renard were the + only ones who attempted to defend Max. + </p> + <p> + “Is it any of our business what takes place among the old man’s heirs?” + said Renard. + </p> + <p> + “Max is weak with women,” remarked the cynical Potel. + </p> + <p> + “There’ll be sabres unsheathed before long,” said an old sub-lieutenant, + who cultivated a kitchen-garden in the upper Baltan. “If Monsieur Maxence + Gilet committed the folly of going to live under old Rouget’s roof, he + would be a coward if he allowed himself to be turned off like a valet + without asking why.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” said Mignonnet dryly. “A folly that doesn’t succeed becomes a + crime.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment Max joined the old soldiers of Napoleon, and was received + in significant silence. Potel and Renard each took an arm of their friend, + and walked about with him, conversing. Presently Philippe was seen + approaching in full dress; he trailed his cane after him with an + imperturbable air which contrasted with the forced attention Max was + paying to the remarks of his two supporters. Bridau’s hand was grasped by + Mignonnet, Carpentier, and several others. This welcome, so different from + that accorded to Max, dispelled the last feeling of cowardice, or, if you + prefer it, wisdom, which Flore’s entreaties, and above all, her + tendernesses, had awakened in the latter’s mind. + </p> + <p> + “We shall fight,” he said to Renard, “and to the death. Therefore don’t + talk to me any more; let me play my part well.” + </p> + <p> + After these words, spoken in a feverish tone, the three Bonapartists + returned to the group of officers and mixed among them. Max bowed first to + Bridau, who returned his bow, and the two exchanged a frigid glance. + </p> + <p> + “Come, gentlemen, let us take our seats,” said Potel. + </p> + <p> + “And drink to the health of the Little Corporal, who is now in the + paradise of heroes,” cried Renard. + </p> + <p> + The company poured into the long, low dining-hall of the restaurant + Lacroix, the windows of which opened on the market-place. Each guest took + his seat at the table, where, in compliance with Philippe’s request, the + two adversaries were placed directly opposite to each other. Some young + men of the town, among them several Knights of Idleness, anxious to know + what might happen at the banquet, were walking about the street and + discussing the critical position into which Philippe had contrived to + force Max. They all deplored the crisis, though each considered the duel + to be inevitable. + </p> + <p> + Everything went off well until the dessert, though the two antagonists + displayed, in spite of the apparent joviality of the dinner, a certain + vigilance that resembled disquietude. While waiting for the quarrel that + both were planning, Philippe showed admirable coolness, and Max a + distracting gayety; but to an observer, each was playing a part. + </p> + <p> + When the desert was served Philippe rose and said: “Fill your glasses, my + friends! I ask permission to propose the first toast.” + </p> + <p> + “He said <i>my friends</i>, don’t fill your glass,” whispered Renard to + Max. + </p> + <p> + Max poured out some wine. + </p> + <p> + “To the Grand Army!” cried Philippe, with genuine enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + “To the Grand Army!” was repeated with acclamation by every voice. + </p> + <p> + At this moment eleven private soldiers, among whom were Benjamin and + Kouski, appeared at the door of the room and repeated the toast,— + </p> + <p> + “To the Grand Army!” + </p> + <p> + “Come in, my sons; we are going to drink His health.” + </p> + <p> + The old soldiers came in and stood behind the officers. + </p> + <p> + “You see He is not dead!” said Kouski to an old sergeant, who had perhaps + been grieving that the Emperor’s agony was over. + </p> + <p> + “I claim the second toast,” said Mignonnet, as he rose. “Let us drink to + those who attempted to restore his son!” + </p> + <p> + Every one present, except Maxence Gilet, bowed to Philippe Bridau, and + stretched their glasses towards him. + </p> + <p> + “One word,” said Max, rising. + </p> + <p> + “It is Max! it is Max!” cried voices outside; and then a deep silence + reigned in the room and in the street, for Gilet’s known character made + every one expect a taunt. + </p> + <p> + “May we <i>all</i> meet again at this time next year,” said Max, bowing + ironically to Philippe. + </p> + <p> + “It’s coming!” whispered Kouski to his neighbor. + </p> + <p> + “The Paris police would never allow a banquet of this kind,” said Potel to + Philippe. + </p> + <p> + “Why the devil do you mention the police to Colonel Bridau?” said + Maxence insolently. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Potel—<i>he</i>—meant no insult,” said Philippe, + smiling coldly. The stillness was so profound that the buzzing of a fly + could have been heard if there had been one. + </p> + <p> + “The police were sufficiently afraid of me,” resumed Philippe, “to send me + to Issoudun,—a place where I have had the pleasure of meeting old + comrades, but where, it must be owned, there is a dearth of amusement. For + a man who doesn’t despise folly, I’m rather restricted. However, it is + certainly economical, for I am not one of those to whom feather-beds give + incomes; Mariette of the Grand Opera cost me fabulous sums.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that remark meant for me, my dear colonel?” asked Max, sending a + glance at Philippe which was like a current of electricity. + </p> + <p> + “Take it as you please,” answered Bridau. + </p> + <p> + “Colonel, my two friends here, Renard and Potel, will call to-morrow on—” + </p> + <p> + “—on Mignonnet and Carpentier,” answered Philippe, cutting short + Max’s sentence, and motioning towards his two neighbors. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said Max, “let us go on with the toasts.” + </p> + <p> + The two adversaries had not raised their voices above the tone of ordinary + conversation; there was nothing solemn in the affair except the dead + silence in which it took place. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, you others!” cried Philippe, addressing the soldiers who stood + behind the officers; “remember that our affairs don’t concern the + bourgeoisie—not a word, therefore, on what goes on here. It is for + the Old Guard only.” + </p> + <p> + “They’ll obey orders, colonel,” said Renard. “I’ll answer for them.” + </p> + <p> + “Long live His little one! May he reign over France!” cried Potel. + </p> + <p> + “Death to Englishmen!” cried Carpentier. + </p> + <p> + That toast was received with prodigious applause. + </p> + <p> + “Shame on Hudson Lowe,” said Captain Renard. + </p> + <p> + The dessert passed off well; the libations were plentiful. The antagonists + and their four seconds made it a point of honor that a duel, involving so + large a fortune, and the reputation of two men noted for their courage, + should not appear the result of an ordinary squabble. No two gentlemen + could have behaved better than Philippe and Max; in this respect the + anxious waiting of the young men and townspeople grouped about the + market-place was balked. All the guests, like true soldiers, kept silence + as to the episode which took place at dessert. At ten o’clock that night + the two adversaries were informed that the sabre was the weapon agreed + upon by the seconds; the place chosen for the rendezvous was behind the + chancel of the church of the Capuchins at eight o’clock the next morning. + Goddet, who was at the banquet in his quality of former army surgeon, was + requested to be present at the meeting. The seconds agreed that, no matter + what might happen, the combat should last only ten minutes. + </p> + <p> + At eleven o’clock that night, to Colonel Bridau’s amazement, Monsieur + Hochon appeared at his rooms just as he was going to bed, escorting Madame + Hochon. + </p> + <p> + “We know what has happened,” said the old lady, with her eyes full of + tears, “and I have come to entreat you not to leave the house to-morrow + morning without saying your prayers. Lift your soul to God!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, madame,” said Philippe, to whom old Hochon made a sign from behind + his wife’s back. + </p> + <p> + “That is not all,” said Agathe’s godmother. “I stand in the place of your + poor mother, and I divest myself, for you, of a thing which I hold most + precious,—here,” she went on, holding towards Philippe a tooth, + fastened upon a piece of black velvet embroidered in gold, to which she + had sewn a pair of green strings. Having shown it to him, she replaced it + in a little bag. “It is a relic of Sainte Solange, the patron saint of + Berry,” she said, “I saved it during the Revolution; wear it on your + breast to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Will it protect me from a sabre-thrust?” asked Philippe. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied the old lady. + </p> + <p> + “Then I have no right to wear that accoutrement any more than if it were a + cuirass,” cried Agathe’s son. + </p> + <p> + “What does he mean?” said Madame Hochon. + </p> + <p> + “He says it is not playing fair,” answered Hochon. + </p> + <p> + “Then we will say no more about it,” said the old lady, “I shall pray for + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, madame, prayer—and a good point—can do no harm,” said + Philippe, making a thrust as if to pierce Monsieur Hochon’s heart. + </p> + <p> + The old lady kissed the colonel on his forehead. As she left the house, + she gave thirty francs—all the money she possessed—to + Benjamin, requesting him to sew the relic into the pocket of his master’s + trousers. Benjamin did so,—not that he believed in the virtue of the + tooth, for he said his master had a much better talisman than that against + Gilet, but because his conscience constrained him to fulfil a commission + for which he had been so liberally paid. Madame Hochon went home full of + confidence in Saint Solange. + </p> + <p> + At eight o’clock the next morning, December third, the weather being + cloudy, Max, accompanied by his seconds and the Pole, arrived on the + little meadow which then surrounded the apse of the church of the + Capuchins. There he found Philippe and his seconds, with Benjamin, waiting + for him. Potel and Mignonnet paced off twenty-four feet; at each + extremity, the two attendants drew a line on the earth with a spade: the + combatants were not allowed to retreat beyond that line, on pain of being + thought cowardly. Each was to stand at his own line, and advance as he + pleased when the seconds gave the word. + </p> + <p> + “Do we take off our coats?” said Philippe to his adversary coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” answered Maxence, with the assumption of a bully. + </p> + <p> + They did so; the rosy tints of their skin appearing through the cambric of + their shirts. Each, armed with a cavalry sabre selected of equal weight, + about three pounds, and equal length, three feet, placed himself at his + own line, the point of his weapon on the ground, awaiting the signal. Both + were so calm that, in spite of the cold, their muscles quivered no more + than if they had been made of iron. Goddet, the four seconds, and the two + soldiers felt an involuntary admiration. + </p> + <p> + “They are a proud pair!” + </p> + <p> + The exclamation came from Potel. + </p> + <p> + Just as the signal was given, Max caught sight of Fario’s sinister face + looking at them through the hole which the Knights of Idleness had made + for the pigeons in the roof of the church. Those eyes, which sent forth + streams of fire, hatred, and revenge, dazzled Max for a moment. The + colonel went straight to his adversary, and put himself on guard in a way + that gained him an advantage. Experts in the art of killing, know that, of + two antagonists, the ablest takes the “inside of the pavement,”—to + use an expression which gives the reader a tangible idea of the effect of + a good guard. That pose, which is in some degree observant, marks so + plainly a duellist of the first rank that a feeling of inferiority came + into Max’s soul, and produced the same disarray of powers which + demoralizes a gambler when, in presence of a master or a lucky hand, he + loses his self-possession and plays less well than usual. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! the lascar!” thought Max, “he’s an expert; I’m lost!” + </p> + <p> + He attempted a “moulinet,” and twirled his sabre with the dexterity of a + single-stick. He wanted to bewilder Philippe, and strike his weapon so as + to disarm him; but at the first encounter he felt that the colonel’s wrist + was iron, with the flexibility of a steel spring. Maxence was then forced, + unfortunate fellow, to think of another move, while Philippe, whose eyes + were darting gleams that were sharper than the flash of their blades, + parried every attack with the coolness of a fencing-master wearing his + plastron in an armory. + </p> + <p> + Between two men of the calibre of these combatants, there occurs a + phenomenon very like that which takes place among the lower classes, + during the terrible tussle called “the savante,” which is fought with the + feet, as the name implies. Victory depends on a false movement, on some + error of the calculation, rapid as lightning, which must be made and + followed almost instinctively. During a period of time as short to the + spectators as it seems long to the combatants, the contest lies in + observation, so keen as to absorb the powers of mind and body, and yet + concealed by preparatory feints whose slowness and apparent prudence seem + to show that the antagonists are not intending to fight. This moment, + which is followed by a rapid and decisive struggle, is terrible to a + connoisseur. At a bad parry from Max the colonel sent the sabre spinning + from his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Pick it up,” he said, pausing; “I am not the man to kill a disarmed + enemy.” + </p> + <p> + There was something atrocious in the grandeur of these words; they seemed + to show such consciousness of superiority that the onlookers took them for + a shrewd calculation. In fact, when Max replaced himself in position, he + had lost his coolness, and was once more confronted with his adversary’s + raised guard which defended the colonel’s whole person while it menaced + his. He resolved to redeem his shameful defeat by a bold stroke. He no + longer guarded himself, but took his sabre in both hands and rushed + furiously on his antagonist, resolved to kill him, if he had to lose his + own life. Philippe received a sabre-cut which slashed open his forehead + and a part of his face, but he cleft Max’s head obliquely by the terrible + sweep of a “moulinet,” made to break the force of the annihilating stroke + Max aimed at him. These two savage blows ended the combat, at the ninth + minute. Fario came down to gloat over the sight of his enemy in the + convulsions of death; for the muscles of a man of Maxence Gilet’s vigor + quiver horribly. Philippe was carried back to his uncle’s house. + </p> + <p> + Thus perished a man destined to do great deeds had he lived his life amid + environments which were suited to him; a man treated by Nature as a + favorite child, for she gave him courage, self-possession, and the + political sagacity of a Cesar Borgia. But education had not bestowed upon + him that nobility of conduct and ideas without which nothing great is + possible in any walk of life. He was not regretted, because of the perfidy + with which his adversary, who was a worse man than he, had contrived to + bring him into disrepute. His death put an end to the exploits of the + Order of Idleness, to the great satisfaction of the town of Issoudun. + Philippe therefore had nothing to fear in consequence of the duel, which + seemed almost the result of divine vengeance: its circumstances were + related throughout that whole region of country, with unanimous praise for + the bravery of the two combatants. + </p> + <p> + “But they had better both have been killed,” remarked Monsieur Mouilleron; + “it would have been a good riddance for the Government.” + </p> + <p> + The situation of Flore Brazier would have been very embarrassing were it + not for the condition into which she was thrown by Max’s death. A + brain-fever set in, combined with a dangerous inflammation resulting from + her escapade to Vatan. If she had had her usual health, she might have + fled the house where, in the room above her, Max’s room, and in Max’s bed, + lay and suffered Max’s murderer. She hovered between life and death for + three months, attended by Monsieur Goddet, who was also attending + Philippe. + </p> + <p> + As soon as Philippe was able to hold a pen, he wrote the following + letters:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + To Monsieur Desroches: + + I have already killed the most venomous of the two reptiles; not + however without getting my own head split open by a sabre; but the + rascal struck with a dying hand. The other viper is here, and I + must come to an understanding with her, for my uncle clings to her + like the apple of his eye. I have been half afraid the girl, who + is devilishly handsome, might run away, and then my uncle would + have followed her; but an illness which seized her suddenly has + kept her in bed. If God desired to protect me, he would call her + soul to himself, now, while she is repenting of her sins. + Meantime, on my side I have, thanks to that old trump, Hochon, the + doctor of Issoudun, one named Goddet, a worthy soul who conceives + that the property of uncles ought to go to nephews rather than to + sluts. + + Monsieur Hochon has some influence on a certain papa Fichet, who + is rich, and whose daughter Goddet wants as a wife for his son: so + the thousand francs they have promised him if he mends up my pate + is not the chief cause of his devotion. Moreover, this Goddet, who + was formerly head-surgeon to the 3rd regiment of the line, has + been privately advised by my staunch friends, Mignonnet and + Carpentier; so he is now playing the hypocrite with his other + patient. He says to Mademoiselle Brazier, as he feels her pulse, + “You see, my child, that there’s a God after all. You have been + the cause of a great misfortune, and you must now repair it. The + finger of God is in all this (it is inconceivable what they don’t + say the finger of God is in!). Religion is religion: submit, + resign yourself, and that will quiet you better than my drugs. + Above all, resolve to stay here and take care of your master: + forget and forgive,—that’s Christianity.” + + Goddet has promised to keep the Rabouilleuse three months in her + bed. By degrees the girl will get accustomed to living under the + same roof with me. I have bought over the cook. That abominable + old woman tells her mistress Max would have led her a hard life; + and declares she overheard him say that if, after the old man’s + death, he was obliged to marry Flore, he didn’t mean to have his + prospects ruined by it, and he should find a way to get rid of + her. + + Thus, all goes well, so far. My uncle, by old Hochon’s advice, has + destroyed his will. +</pre> + <p> + To Monsieur Giroudeau, care of Mademoiselle Florentine. Rue de Vendome, + Marais: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My dear old Fellow,—Find out if the little rat Cesarine has any + engagement, and if not, try to arrange that she can come to + Issoudun in case I send for her; if I do, she must come at once. + It is a matter this time of decent behavior; no theatre morals. + She must present herself as the daughter of a brave soldier, + killed on the battle-field. Therefore, mind,—sober manners, + schoolgirl’s clothes, virtue of the best quality; that’s the + watchword. If I need Cesarine, and if she answers my purpose, I + will give her fifty thousand francs on my uncle’s death. If + Cesarine has other engagements, explain what I want to Florentine; + and between you, find me some ballet-girl capable of playing the + part. + + I have had my skull cracked in a duel with the fellow who was + filching my inheritance, and is now feeding the worms. I’ll tell + you all about it some day. Ah! old fellow, the good times are + coming back for you and me; we’ll amuse ourselves once more, or we + are not the pair we really are. If you can send me five hundred + more cartridges I’ll bite them. + + Adieu, my old fire-eater. Light your pipe with this letter. Mind, + the daughter of the officer is to come from Chateauroux, and must + seem to be in need of assistance. I hope however that I shall not + be driven to such dangerous expedients. Remember me to Mariette + and all our friends. +</pre> + <p> + Agathe, informed by Madame Hochon of what had happened, rushed to + Issoudun, and was received by her brother, who gave her Philippe’s former + room. The poor mother’s tenderness for the worthless son revived in all + its maternal strength; a few happy days were hers at last, as she listened + to the praises which the whole town bestowed upon her hero. + </p> + <p> + “After all, my child,” said Madame Hochon on the day of her arrival, + “youth must have its fling. The dissipations of a soldier under the Empire + must, of course, be greater than those of young men who are looked after + by their fathers. Oh! if you only knew what went on here at night under + that wretched Max! Thanks to your son, Issoudun now breathes and sleeps in + peace. Philippe has come to his senses rather late; he told us frankly + that those three months in the Luxembourg sobered him. Monsieur Hochon is + delighted with his conduct here; every one thinks highly of it. If he can + be kept away from the temptations of Paris, he will end by being a comfort + to you.” + </p> + <p> + Hearing these consolatory words Agathe’s eyes filled with tears. + </p> + <p> + Philippe played the saint to his mother, for he had need of her. That wily + politician did not wish to have recourse to Cesarine unless he continued + to be an object of horror to Mademoiselle Brazier. He saw that Flore had + been thoroughly broken to harness by Max; he knew she was an essential + part of his uncle’s life, and he greatly preferred to use her rather than + send for the ballet-girl, who might take it into her head to marry the old + man. Fouche advised Louis XVIII. to sleep in Napoleon’s sheets instead of + granting the charter; and Philippe would have liked to remain in Gilet’s + sheets; but he was reluctant to risk the good reputation he had made for + himself in Berry. To take Max’s place with the Rabouilleuse would be as + odious on his part as on hers. He could, without discredit and by the laws + of nepotism, live in his uncle’s house and at his uncle’s expense; but he + could not have Flore unless her character were whitewashed. Hampered by + this difficulty, and stimulated by the hope of finally getting hold of the + property, the idea came into his head of making his uncle marry the + Rabouilleuse. With this in view he requested his mother to go and see the + girl and treat her in a sisterly manner. + </p> + <p> + “I must confess, my dear mother,” he said, in a canting tone, looking at + Monsieur and Madame Hochon who accompanied her, “that my uncle’s way of + life is not becoming; he could, however, make Mademoiselle Brazier + respected by the community if he chose. Wouldn’t it be far better for her + to be Madame Rouget than the servant-mistress of an old bachelor? She had + better obtain a definite right to his property by a marriage contract then + threaten a whole family with disinheritance. If you, or Monsieur Hochon, + or some good priest would speak of the matter to both parties, you might + put a stop to the scandal which offends decent people. Mademoiselle + Brazier would be only too happy if you were to welcome her as a sister, + and I as an aunt.” + </p> + <p> + On the morrow Agathe and Madame Hochon appeared at Flore’s bedside, and + repeated to the sick girl and to Rouget, the excellent sentiments + expressed by Philippe. Throughout Issoudun the colonel was talked of as a + man of noble character, especially because of his conduct towards Flore. + For a month, the Rabouilleuse heard Goddet, her doctor, the individual who + has paramount influence over a sick person, the respectable Madame Hochon, + moved by religious principle, and Agathe, so gentle and pious, all + representing to her the advantages of a marriage with Rouget. And when, + attracted by the idea of becoming Madame Rouget, a dignified and virtuous + bourgeoisie, she grew eager to recover, so that the marriage might + speedily be celebrated, it was not difficult to make her understand that + she would not be allowed to enter the family of the Rougets if she + intended to turn Philippe from its doors. + </p> + <p> + “Besides,” remarked the doctor, “you really owe him this good fortune. Max + would never have allowed you to marry old Rouget. And,” he added in her + ear, “if you have children, you can revenge Max, for that will disinherit + the Bridaus.” + </p> + <p> + Two months after the fatal duel in February, 1823, the sick woman, urged + by those about her, and implored by Rouget, consented to receive Philippe, + the sight of whose scars made her weep, but whose softened and + affectionate manner calmed her. By Philippe’s wish they were left alone + together. + </p> + <p> + “My dear child,” said the soldier. “It is I, who, from the start, have + advised your marriage with my uncle; if you consent, it will take place as + soon as you are quite recovered.” + </p> + <p> + “So they tell me,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “Circumstances have compelled me to give you pain, it is natural therefore + that I should wish to do you all the good I can. Wealth, respect, and a + family position are worth more than what you have lost. You wouldn’t have + been that fellow’s wife long after my uncle’s death, for I happen to know, + through friends of his, that he intended to get rid of you. Come, my dear, + let us understand each other, and live happily. You shall be my aunt, and + nothing more than my aunt. You will take care that my uncle does not + forget me in his will; on my side, you shall see how well I will have you + treated in the marriage contract. Keep calm, think it over, and we will + talk of it later. All sensible people, indeed the whole town, urge you to + put an end to your illegal position; no one will blame you for receiving + me. It is well understood in the world that interests go before feelings. + By the day of your marriage you will be handsomer than ever. The pallor of + illness has given you an air of distinction, and on my honor, if my uncle + did not love you so madly, you should be the wife of Colonel Bridau.” + </p> + <p> + Philippe left the room, having dropped this hint into Flore’s mind to + waken a vague idea of vengeance which might please the girl, who did, in + fact, feel a sort of happiness as she saw this dreadful being at her feet. + In this scene Philippe repeated, in miniature, that of Richard III. with + the queen he had widowed. The meaning of it is that personal calculation, + hidden under sentiment, has a powerful influence on the heart, and is able + to dissipate even genuine grief. This is how, in individual life, Nature + does that which in works of genius is thought to be consummate art: she + works by self-interest,—the genius of money. + </p> + <p> + At the beginning of April, 1823, the hall of Jean-Jacques Rouget’s house + was the scene of a splendid dinner, given to celebrate the signing of the + marriage contract between Mademoiselle Flore Brazier and the old bachelor. + The guests were Monsieur Heron, the four witnesses, Messieurs Mignonnet, + Carpentier, Hochon, and Goddet, the mayor and the curate, Agathe Bridau, + Madame Hochon, and her friend Madame Borniche, the two old ladies who laid + down the law to the society of Issoudun. The bride was much impressed by + this concession, obtained by Philippe, and intended by the two ladies as a + mark of protection to a repentant woman. Flore was in dazzling beauty. The + curate, who for the last fortnight had been instructing the ignorant + crab-girl, was to allow her, on the following day, to make her first + communion. The marriage was the text of the following pious article in the + “Journal du Cher,” published at Bourges, and in the “Journal de l’Indre,” + published at Chateauroux: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Issoudun.—The revival of religion is progressing in Berry. + Friends of the Church and all respectable persons in this town + were yesterday witnesses of a marriage ceremony by which a leading + man of property put an end to a scandalous connection, which began + at the time when the authority of religion was overthrown in this + region. This event, due to the enlightened zeal of the clergy of + Issoudun will, we trust, have imitators, and put a stop to + marriages, so-called, which have never been solemnized, and were + only contracted during the disastrous epoch of revolutionary rule. + + One remarkable feature of the event to which we allude, is the + fact that it was brought about at the entreaty of a colonel + belonging to the old army, sent to our town by a sentence of the + Court of Peers, who may, in consequence, lose the inheritance of + his uncle’s property. Such disinterestedness is so rare in these + days that it deserves public mention. +</pre> + <p> + By the marriage contract Rouget secured to Flore a dower of one hundred + thousand francs, and a life annuity of thirty thousand more. + </p> + <p> + After the wedding, which was sumptuous, Agathe returned to Paris the + happiest of mothers, and told Joseph and Desroches what she called the + good news. + </p> + <p> + “Your son Philippe is too wily a man not to keep his paw on that + inheritance,” said the lawyer, when he had heard Madame Bridau to the end. + “You and your poor Joseph will never get one penny of your brother’s + property.” + </p> + <p> + “You, and Joseph too, will always be unjust to that poor boy,” said the + mother. “His conduct before the Court of Peers was worthy of a statesman; + he succeeded in saving many heads. Philippe’s errors came from his great + faculties being unemployed. He now sees how faults of conduct injure the + prospects of a man who has his way to make. He is ambitious; that I am + sure of; and I am not the only one to predict his future. Monsieur Hochon + firmly believes that Philippe has a noble destiny before him.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! if he chooses to apply his perverted powers to making his fortune, I + have no doubt he will succeed: he is capable of everything; and such + fellows go fast and far,” said Desroches. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you suppose that he will not succeed by honest means?” demanded + Madame Bridau. + </p> + <p> + “You will see!” exclaimed Desroches. “Fortunate or unfortunate, Philippe + will remain the man of the rue Mazarin, the murderer of Madame Descoings, + the domestic thief. But don’t worry yourself; he will manage to appear + honest to the world.” + </p> + <p> + After breakfast, on the morning succeeding the marriage, Philippe took + Madame Rouget by the arm when his uncle rose from table and went upstairs + to dress,—for the pair had come down, the one in her morning-robe, + and the other in his dressing-gown. + </p> + <p> + “My dear aunt,” said the colonel, leading her into the recess of a window, + “you now belong to the family. Thanks to me, the law has tied the knot. + Now, no nonsense. I intend that you and I should play above board. I know + the tricks you will try against me; and I shall watch you like a duenna. + You will never go out of this house except on my arm; and you will never + leave me. As to what passes within the house, damn it, you’ll find me like + a spider in the middle of his web. Here is something,” he continued, + showing the bewildered woman a letter, “which will prove to you that I + could, while you were lying ill upstairs, unable to move hand or foot, + have turned you out of doors without a penny. Read it.” + </p> + <p> + He gave her the letter. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My dear Fellow,—Florentine, who has just made her debut at the + new Opera House in a “pas de trois” with Mariette and Tullia, is + thinking steadily about your affair, and so is Florine,—who has + finally given up Lousteau and taken Nathan. That shrewd pair have + found you a most delicious little creature,—only seventeen, + beautiful as an English woman, demure as a “lady,” up to all + mischief, sly as Desroches, faithful as Godeschal. Mariette is + forming her, so as to give you a fair chance. No woman could hold + her own against this little angel, who is a devil under her skin; + she can play any part you please; get complete possession of your + uncle, or drive him crazy with love. She has that celestial look + poor Coralie used to have; she can weep,—the tones of her voice + will draw a thousand-franc note from a granite heart; and the + young mischief soaks up champagne better than any of us. It is a + precious discovery; she is under obligations to Mariette, and + wants to pay them off. After squandering the fortunes of two + Englishmen, a Russian, and an Italian prince, Mademoiselle Esther + is now in poverty; give her ten thousand francs, that will satisfy + her. She has just remarked, laughing, that she has never yet + fricasseed a bourgeois, and it will get her hand in. Esther is + well known to Finot, Bixiou, and des Lupeaulx, in fact to all our + set. Ah! if there were any real fortunes left in France, she would + be the greatest courtesan of modern times. + + All the editorial staff, Nathan, Finot, Bixiou, etc., are now + joking the aforesaid Esther in a magnificent <i>appartement</i> just + arranged for Florine by old Lord Dudley (the real father of de + Marsay); the lively actress captured him by the dress of her new + role. Tullia is with the Duc de Rhetore, Mariette is still with + the Duc de Maufrigneuse; between them, they will get your sentence + remitted in time for the King’s fete. Bury your uncle under the + roses before the Saint-Louis, bring away the property, and spend a + little of it with Esther and your old friends, who sign this + epistle in a body, to remind you of them. + + Nathan, Florine, Bixiou, Finot, Mariette, + + Florentine, Giroudeau, Tullia +</pre> + <p> + The letter shook in the trembling hands of Madame Rouget, and betrayed the + terror of her mind and body. The aunt dared not look at the nephew, who + fixed his eyes upon her with terrible meaning. + </p> + <p> + “I trust you,” he said, “as you see; but I expect some return. I have made + you my aunt intending to marry you some day. You are worth more to me than + Esther in managing my uncle. In a year from now, we must be in Paris; the + only place where beauty really lives. You will amuse yourself much better + there than here; it is a perpetual carnival. I shall return to the army, + and become a general, and you will be a great lady. There’s our future; + now work for it. But I must have a pledge to bind this agreement. You are + to give me, within a month from now, a power of attorney from my uncle, + which you must obtain under pretence of relieving him of the fatigues of + business. Also, a month later, I must have a special power of attorney to + transfer the income in the Funds. When that stands in my name, you and I + have an equal interest in marrying each other. There it all is, my + beautiful aunt, as plain as day. Between you and me there must be no + ambiguity. I can marry my aunt at the end of a year’s widowhood; but I + could not marry a disgraced girl.” + </p> + <p> + He left the room without waiting for an answer. When Vedie came in, + fifteen minutes later, to clear the table, she found her mistress pale and + moist with perspiration, in spite of the season. Flore felt like a woman + who had fallen to the bottom of a precipice; the future loomed black + before her; and on its blackness, in the far distance, were shapes of + monstrous things, indistinctly perceptible, and terrifying. She felt the + damp chill of vaults, instinctive fear of the man crushed her; and yet a + voice cried in her ear that she deserved to have him for her master. She + was helpless against her fate. Flore Brazier had had a room of her own in + Rouget’s house; but Madame Rouget belonged to her husband, and was now + deprived of the free-will of a servant-mistress. In the horrible situation + in which she now found herself, the hope of having a child came into her + mind; but she soon recognized its impossibility. The marriage was to + Jean-Jacques what the second marriage of Louis XII. was to that king. The + incessant watchfulness of a man like Philippe, who had nothing to do and + never quitted his post of observation, made any form of vengeance + impossible. Benjamin was his innocent and devoted spy. The Vedie trembled + before him. Flore felt herself deserted and utterly helpless. She began to + fear death. Without knowing how Philippe might manage to kill her, she + felt certain that whenever he suspected her of pregnancy her doom would be + sealed. The sound of that voice, the veiled glitter of that gambler’s eye, + the slightest movement of the soldier, who treated her with a brutality + that was still polite, made her shudder. As to the power of attorney + demanded by the ferocious colonel, who in the eyes of all Issoudun was a + hero, he had it as soon as he wanted it; for Flore fell under the man’s + dominion as France had fallen under that of Napoleon. + </p> + <p> + Like a butterfly whose feet are caught in the incandescent wax of a taper, + Rouget rapidly dissipated his remaining strength. In presence of that + decay, the nephew remained as cold and impassible as the diplomatists of + 1814 during the convulsions of imperial France. + </p> + <p> + Philippe, who did not believe in Napoleon II., now wrote the following + letter to the minister of war, which Mariette made the Duc de Maufrigneuse + convey to that functionary:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Monseigneur,—Napoleon is no more. I desired to remain faithful to + him according to my oath; now I am free to offer my services to + His Majesty. If your Excellency deigns to explain my conduct to + His Majesty, the King will see that it is in keeping with the laws + of honor, if not with those of his government. The King, who + thought it proper that his aide-de-camp, General Rapp, should + mourn his former master, will no doubt feel indulgently for me. + Napoleon was my benefactor. + + I therefore entreat your Excellency to take into consideration the + request I make for employment in my proper rank; and I beg to + assure you of my entire submission. The King will find in me a + faithful subject. + + Deign to accept the assurance of respect with which I have the + honor to be, + Your Excellency’s very submissive and + + Very humble servant, + + Philippe Bridau + + Formerly chief of squadron in the dragoons of the Guard; officer + of the Legion of honor; now under police surveillance at Issoudun. +</pre> + <p> + To this letter was joined a request for permission to go to Paris on + urgent family business; and Monsieur Mouilleron annexed letters from the + mayor, the sub-prefect, and the commissary of police at Issoudun, all + bestowing many praises on Philippe’s conduct, and dwelling upon the + newspaper article relating to his uncle’s marriage. + </p> + <p> + Two weeks later, Philippe received the desired permission, and a letter, + in which the minister of war informed him that, by order of the King, he + was, as a preliminary favor, reinstated lieutenant-colonel in the royal + army. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> + <p> + Lieutenant-Colonel Bridau returned to Paris, taking with him his aunt and + the helpless Rouget, whom he escorted, three days after their arrival, to + the Treasury, where Jean-Jacques signed the transfer of the income, which + henceforth became Philippe’s. The exhausted old man and the Rabouilleuse + were now plunged by their nephew into the excessive dissipations of the + dangerous and restless society of actresses, journalists, artists, and the + equivocal women among whom Philippe had already wasted his youth; where + old Rouget found excitements that soon after killed him. Instigated by + Giroudeau, Lolotte, one of the handsomest of the Opera ballet-girls, was + the amiable assassin of the old man. Rouget died after a splendid supper + at Florentine’s, and Lolotte threw the blame of his death upon a slice of + pate de foie gras; as the Strasburg masterpiece could make no defence, it + was considered settled that the old man died of indigestion. + </p> + <p> + Madame Rouget was in her element in the midst of this excessively + decollete society; but Philippe gave her in charge of Mariette, and that + monitress did not allow the widow—whose mourning was diversified + with a few amusements—to commit any actual follies. + </p> + <p> + In October, 1823, Philippe returned to Issoudun, furnished with a power of + attorney from his aunt, to liquidate the estate of his uncle; a business + that was soon over, for he returned to Paris in March, 1824, with sixteen + hundred thousand francs,—the net proceeds of old Rouget’s property, + not counting the precious pictures, which had never left Monsieur Hochon’s + hands. Philippe put the whole property into the hands of Mongenod and + Sons, where young Baruch Borniche was employed, and on whose solvency and + business probity old Hochon had given him satisfactory assurances. This + house took his sixteen hundred thousand francs at six per cent per annum, + on condition of three months’ notice in case of the withdrawal of the + money. + </p> + <p> + One fine day, Philippe went to see his mother, and invited her to be + present at his marriage, which was witnessed by Giroudeau, Finot, Nathan, + and Bixiou. By the terms of the marriage contract, the widow Rouget, whose + portion of her late husband’s property amounted to a million of francs, + secured to her future husband her whole fortune in case she died without + children. No invitations to the wedding were sent out, nor any “billets de + faire part”; Philippe had his designs. He lodged his wife in an <i>appartement</i> + in the rue Saint-Georges, which he bought ready-furnished from Lolotte. + Madame Bridau the younger thought it delightful, and her husband rarely + set foot in it. Without her knowledge, Philippe purchased in the rue de + Clichy, at a time when no one suspected the value which property in that + quarter would one day acquire, a magnificent hotel for two hundred and + fifty thousand francs; of which he paid one hundred and fifty thousand + down, taking two years to pay the remainder. He spent large sums in + altering the interior and furnishing it; in fact, he put his income for + two years into this outlay. The pictures, now restored, and estimated at + three hundred thousand francs, appeared in such surroundings in all their + beauty. + </p> + <p> + The accession of Charles X. had brought into still greater court favor the + family of the Duc de Chaulieu, whose eldest son, the Duc de Rhetore, was + in the habit of seeing Philippe at Tullia’s. Under Charles X., the elder + branch of the Bourbons, believing itself permanently seated on the throne, + followed the advice previously given by Marshal Gouvion-Saint-Cyr to + encourage the adherence of the soldiers of the Empire. Philippe, who had + no doubt made invaluable revelations as to the conspiracies of 1820 and + 1822, was appointed lieutenant-colonel in the regiment of the Duc de + Maufrigneuse. That fascinating nobleman thought himself bound to protect + the man from whom he had taken Mariette. The corps-de-ballet went for + something, therefore, in the appointment. Moreover, it was decided in the + private councils of Charles X., to give a faint tinge of liberalism to the + surroundings of Monseigneur the Dauphin. Philippe, now a sort of equerry + to the Duc de Maufrigneuse, was presented not only to the Dauphin, but + also to the Dauphine, who was not averse to brusque and soldierly + characters who had become noted for a past fidelity. Philippe thoroughly + understood the part the Dauphin had to play; and he turned the first + exhibition of that spurious liberalism to his own profit, by getting + himself appointed aide-de-camp to a marshal who stood well at court. + </p> + <p> + In January, 1827, Philippe, who was now promoted to the Royal Guard as + lieutenant-colonel in a regiment then commanded by the Duc de + Maufrigneuse, solicited the honor of being ennobled. Under the + Restoration, nobility became a sort of perquisite to the “roturiers” who + served in the Guard. Colonel Bridau had lately bought the estate of + Brambourg, and he now asked to be allowed to entail it under the title of + count. This favor was accorded through the influence of his many + intimacies in the highest rank of society, where he now appeared in all + the luxury of horses, carriages, and liveries; in short, with the + surroundings of a great lord. As soon as he saw himself gazetted in the + Almanack under the title of Comte de Brambourg, he began to frequent the + house of a lieutenant-general of artillery, the Comte de Soulanges. + </p> + <p> + Insatiable in his wants, and backed by the mistresses of influential men, + Philippe now solicited the honor of being one of the Dauphin’s + aides-de-camp. He had the audacity to say to the Dauphin that “an old + soldier, wounded on many a battle-field and who knew real warfare, might, + on occasion, be serviceable to Monseigneur.” Philippe, who could take the + tone of all varieties of sycophancy, became in the regions of the highest + social life exactly what the position required him to be; just as at + Issoudun, he had copied the respectability of Mignonnet. He had, moreover, + a fine establishment and gave fetes and dinners; admitting none of his old + friends to his house if he thought their position in life likely to + compromise his future. He was pitiless to the companions of his former + debauches, and curtly refused Bixiou when that lively satirist asked him + to say a word in favor of Giroudeau, who wanted to re-enter the army after + the desertion of Florentine. + </p> + <p> + “The man has neither manners nor morals,” said Philippe. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! did he say that of me?” cried Giroudeau, “of me, who helped him to + get rid of his uncle!” + </p> + <p> + “We’ll pay him off yet,” said Bixiou. + </p> + <p> + Philippe intended to marry Mademoiselle Amelie de Soulanges, and become a + general, in command of a regiment of the Royal Guard. He asked so many + favors that, to keep him quiet, they made him a Commander of the Legion of + honor, and also Commander of the order of Saint Louis. One rainy evening, + as Agathe and Joseph were returning home along the muddy streets, they met + Philippe in full uniform, bedizened with orders, leaning back in a corner + of a handsome coupe lined with yellow silk, whose armorial bearings were + surmounted with a count’s coronet. He was on his way to a fete at the + Elysee-Bourbon; the wheels splashed his mother and brother as he waved + them a patronizing greeting. + </p> + <p> + “He’s going it, that fellow!” said Joseph to his mother. “Nevertheless, he + might send us something better than mud in our faces.” + </p> + <p> + “He has such a fine position, in such high society, that we ought not to + blame him for forgetting us,” said Madame Bridau. “When a man rises to so + great a height, he has many obligations to repay, many sacrifices to make; + it is natural he should not come to see us, though he may think of us all + the same.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow,” said the Duc de Maufrigneuse one evening, to the new + Comte de Brambourg, “I am sure that your addresses will be favorably + received; but in order to marry Amelie de Soulanges, you must be free to + do so. What have you done with your wife?” + </p> + <p> + “My wife?” said Philippe, with a gesture, look, and accent which Frederick + Lemaitre was inspired to use in one of his most terrible parts. “Alas! I + have the melancholy certainty of losing her. She has not a week to live. + My dear duke, you don’t know what it is to marry beneath you. A woman who + was a cook, and has the tastes of a cook! who dishonors me—ah! I am + much to be pitied. I have had the honor to explain my position to Madame + la Dauphine. At the time of the marriage, it was a question of saving to + the family a million of francs which my uncle had left by will to that + person. Happily, my wife took to drinking; at her death, I come into + possession of that million, which is now in the hands of Mongenod and + Sons. I have thirty thousand francs a year in the five per cents, and my + landed property, which is entailed, brings me in forty thousand more. If, + as I am led to suppose, Monsieur de Soulanges gets a marshal’s baton, I am + on the high-road with my title of Comte de Brambourg, to becoming general + and peer of France. That will be the proper end of an aide-de-camp of the + Dauphin.” + </p> + <p> + After the Salon of 1823, one of the leading painters of the day, a most + excellent man, obtained the management of a lottery-office near the + Markets, for the mother of Joseph Bridau. Agathe was fortunately able, + soon after, to exchange it on equal terms with the incumbent of another + office, situated in the rue de Seine, in a house where Joseph was able to + have his atelier. The widow now hired an agent herself, and was no longer + an expense to her son. And yet, as late as 1828, though she was the + directress of an excellent office which she owed entirely to Joseph’s + fame, Madame Bridau still had no belief in that fame, which was hotly + contested, as all true glory ever will be. The great painter, struggling + with his genius, had enormous wants; he did not earn enough to pay for the + luxuries which his relations to society, and his distinguished position in + the young School of Art demanded. Though powerfully sustained by his + friends of the Cenacle and by Mademoiselle des Touches, he did not please + the Bourgeois. That being, from whom comes the money of these days, never + unties its purse-strings for genius that is called in question; + unfortunately, Joseph had the classics and the Institute, and the critics + who cry up those two powers, against him. The brave artist, though backed + by Gros and Gerard, by whose influence he was decorated after the Salon of + 1827, obtained few orders. If the ministry of the interior and the King’s + household were with difficulty induced to buy some of his greatest + pictures, the shopkeepers and the rich foreigners noticed them still less. + Moreover, Joseph gave way rather too much, as we must all acknowledge, to + imaginative fancies, and that produced a certain inequality in his work + which his enemies made use of to deny his talent. + </p> + <p> + “High art is at a low ebb,” said his friend Pierre Grassou, who made daubs + to suit the taste of the bourgeoisie, in whose <i>appartements</i> fine + paintings were at a discount. + </p> + <p> + “You ought to have a whole cathedral to decorate; that’s what you want,” + declared Schinner; “then you would silence criticism with a + master-stroke.” + </p> + <p> + Such speeches, which alarmed the good Agathe, only corroborated the + judgment she had long since formed upon Philippe and Joseph. Facts + sustained that judgment in the mind of a woman who had never ceased to be + a provincial. Philippe, her favorite child, was he not the great man of + the family at last? in his early errors she saw only the ebullitions of + youth. Joseph, to the merit of whose productions she was insensible, for + she saw them too long in process of gestation to admire them when + finished, seemed to her no more advanced in 1828 than he was in 1816. Poor + Joseph owed money, and was bowed down by the burden of debt; he had + chosen, she felt, a worthless career that made him no return. She could + not conceive why they had given him the cross of the Legion of honor. + Philippe, on the other hand, rich enough to cease gambling, a guest at the + fetes of <i>Madame</i>, the brilliant colonel who at all reviews and in + all processions appeared before her eyes in splendid uniforms, with his + two crosses on his breast, realized all her maternal dreams. One such day + of public ceremony effaced from Agathe’s mind the horrible sight of + Philippe’s misery on the Quai de l’Ecole; on that day he passed his mother + at the self-same spot, in attendance on the Dauphin, with plumes in his + shako, and his pelisse gorgeous with gold and fur. Agathe, who to her + artist son was now a sort of devoted gray sister, felt herself the mother + of none but the dashing aide-de-camp to his Royal Highness, the Dauphin of + France. Proud of Philippe, she felt he made the ease and happiness of her + life,—forgetting that the lottery-office, by which she was enabled + to live at all, came through Joseph. + </p> + <p> + One day Agathe noticed that her poor artist was more worried than usual by + the bill of his color-man, and she determined, though cursing his + profession in her heart, to free him from his debts. The poor woman kept + the house with the proceeds of her office, and took care never to ask + Joseph for a farthing. Consequently she had no money of her own; but she + relied on Philippe’s good heart and well-filled purse. For three years she + had waited in expectation of his coming to see her; she now imagined that + if she made an appeal to him he would bring some enormous sum; and her + thoughts dwelt on the happiness she should feel in giving it to Joseph, + whose judgment of his brother, like that of Madame Descoings, was so + unfair. + </p> + <p> + Saying nothing to Joseph, she wrote the following letter to Philippe:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + To Monsieur le comte de Brambourg: + + My dear Philippe,—You have not given the least little word of + remembrance to your mother for five years. That is not right. You + should remember the past, if only for the sake of your excellent + brother. Joseph is now in need of money, and you are floating in + wealth; he works, while you are flying from fete to fete. You now + possess, all to yourself, the property of my brother. Little + Borniche tells me you cannot have less than two hundred thousand + francs a year. Well, then, come and see Joseph. During your visit, + slip into the skull a few thousand-franc notes. Philippe, you owe + them to us; nevertheless, your brother will feel grateful to you, + not to speak of the happiness you will give + + Your mother, + + Agathe Bridau, nee Rouget +</pre> + <p> + Two days later the concierge brought to the atelier, where poor Agathe was + breakfasting with Joseph, the following terrible letter:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My dear Mother,—A man does not marry a Mademoiselle Amelie de + Soulanges without the purse of Fortunatus, if under the name of + Comte de Brambourg he hides that of + + Your son, + + Philippe Bridau +</pre> + <p> + As Agathe fell half-fainting on the sofa, the letter dropped to the floor. + The slight noise made by the paper, and the smothered but dreadful + exclamation which escaped Agathe startled Joseph, who had forgotten his + mother for a moment and was vehemently rubbing in a sketch; he leaned his + head round the edge of his canvas to see what had happened. The sight of + his mother stretched out on the floor made him drop palette and brushes, + and rush to lift what seemed a lifeless body. He took Agathe in his arms + and carried her to her own bed, and sent the servant for his friend Horace + Bianchon. As soon as he could question his mother she told him of her + letter to Philippe, and of the answer she had received from him. The + artist went to his atelier and picked up the letter, whose concise + brutality had broken the tender heart of the poor mother, and shattered + the edifice of trust her maternal preference had erected. When Joseph + returned to her bedside he had the good feeling to be silent. He did not + speak of his brother in the three weeks during which—we will not say + the illness, but—the death agony of the poor woman lasted. Bianchon, + who came every day and watched his patient with the devotion of a true + friend, told Joseph the truth on the first day of her seizure. + </p> + <p> + “At her age,” he said, “and under the circumstances which have happened to + her, all we can hope to do is to make her death as little painful as + possible.” + </p> + <p> + She herself felt so surely called of God that she asked the next day for + the religious help of old Abbe Loraux, who had been her confessor for more + than twenty-two years. As soon as she was alone with him, and had poured + her griefs into his heart, she said—as she had said to Madame + Hochon, and had repeated to herself again and again throughout her life:— + </p> + <p> + “What have I done to displease God? Have I not loved Him with all my soul? + Have I wandered from the path of grace? What is my sin? Can I be guilty of + wrong when I know not what it is? Have I the time to repair it?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the old man, in a gentle voice. “Alas! your life seems to have + been pure and your soul spotless; but the eye of God, poor afflicted + creature, is keener than that of his ministers. I see the truth too late; + for you have misled even me.” + </p> + <p> + Hearing these words from lips that had never spoken other than peaceful + and pleasant words to her, Agathe rose suddenly in her bed and opened her + eyes wide, with terror and distress. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me! tell me!” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “Be comforted,” said the priest. “Your punishment is a proof that you will + receive pardon. God chastens his elect. Woe to those whose misdeeds meet + with fortunate success; they will be kneaded again in humanity until they + in their turn are sorely punished for simple errors, and are brought to + the maturity of celestial fruits. Your life, my daughter, has been one + long error. You have fallen into the pit which you dug for yourself; we + fail ever on the side we have ourselves weakened. You gave your heart to + an unnatural son, in whom you made your glory, and you have misunderstood + the child who is your true glory. You have been so deeply unjust that you + never even saw the striking contrast between the brothers. You owe the + comfort of your life to Joseph, while your other son has pillaged you + repeatedly. The poor son, who loves you with no return of equal + tenderness, gives you all the comfort that your life has had; the rich + son, who never thinks of you, despises you and desires your death—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! no,” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” resumed the priest, “your humble position stands in the way of his + proud hopes. Mother, these are your sins! Woman, your sorrows and your + anguish foretell that you shall know the peace of God. Your son Joseph is + so noble that his tenderness has never been lessened by the injustice your + maternal preferences have done him. Love him now; give him all your heart + during your remaining days; pray for him, as I shall pray for you.” + </p> + <p> + The eyes of the mother, opened by so firm a hand, took in with one + retrospective glance the whole course of her life. Illumined by this flash + of light, she saw her involuntary wrong-doing and burst into tears. The + old priest was so deeply moved at the repentance of a being who had sinned + solely through ignorance, that he left the room hastily lest she should + see his pity. + </p> + <p> + Joseph returned to his mother’s room about two hours after her confessor + had left her. He had been to a friend to borrow the necessary money to pay + his most pressing debts, and he came in on tiptoe, thinking that his + mother was asleep. He sat down in an armchair without her seeing him; but + he sprang up with a cold chill running through him as he heard her say, in + a voice broken with sobs,— + </p> + <p> + “Will he forgive me?” + </p> + <p> + “What is it, mother?” he exclaimed, shocked at the stricken face of the + poor woman, and thinking the words must mean the delirium that precedes + death. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Joseph! can you pardon me, my child?” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “For what?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I have never loved you as you deserved to be loved.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what an accusation!” he cried. “Not loved me? For seven years have we + not lived alone together? All these seven years have you not taken care of + me and done everything for me? Do I not see you every day,—hear your + voice? Are you not the gentle and indulgent companion of my miserable + life? You don’t understand painting?—Ah! but that’s a gift not + always given. I was saying to Grassou only yesterday: ‘What comforts me in + the midst of my trials is that I have such a good mother. She is all that + an artist’s wife should be; she sees to everything; she takes care of my + material wants without ever troubling or worrying me.’” + </p> + <p> + “No, Joseph, no; you have loved me, but I have not returned you love for + love. Ah! would that I could live a little longer—Give me your + hand.” + </p> + <p> + Agathe took her son’s hand, kissed it, held it on her heart, and looked in + his face a long time,—letting him see the azure of her eyes + resplendent with a tenderness she had hitherto bestowed on Philippe only. + The painter, well fitted to judge of expression, was so struck by the + change, and saw so plainly how the heart of his mother had opened to him, + that he took her in his arms, and held her for some moments to his heart, + crying out like one beside himself,—“My mother! oh, my mother!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I feel that I am forgiven!” she said. “God will confirm the child’s + pardon of its mother.” + </p> + <p> + “You must be calm: don’t torment yourself; hear me. I feel myself loved + enough in this one moment for all the past,” he said, as he laid her back + upon the pillows. + </p> + <p> + During the two weeks’ struggle between life and death, there glowed such + love in every look and gesture and impulse of the soul of the pious + creature, that each effusion of her feelings seemed like the expression of + a lifetime. The mother thought only of her son; she herself counted for + nothing; sustained by love, she was unaware of her sufferings. D’Arthez, + Michel Chrestien, Fulgence Ridal, Pierre Grassou, and Bianchon often kept + Joseph company, and she heard them talking art in a low voice in a corner + of her room. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how I wish I knew what color is!” she exclaimed one evening as she + heard them discussing one of Joseph’s pictures. + </p> + <p> + Joseph, on his side, was sublimely devoted to his mother. He never left + her chamber; answered tenderness by tenderness, cherishing her upon his + heart. The spectacle was never afterwards forgotten by his friends; and + they themselves, a band of brothers in talent and nobility of nature, were + to Joseph and his mother all that they should have been,—friends who + prayed, and truly wept; not saying prayers and shedding tears, but one + with their friend in thought and action. Joseph, inspired as much by + feeling as by genius, divined in the occasional expression of his mother’s + face a desire that was deep hidden in her heart, and he said one day to + d’Arthez,— + </p> + <p> + “She has loved that brigand Philippe too well not to want to see him + before she dies.” + </p> + <p> + Joseph begged Bixiou, who frequented the Bohemian regions where Philippe + was still occasionally to be found, to persuade that shameless son to + play, if only out of pity, a little comedy of tenderness which might wrap + the mother’s heart in a winding-sheet of illusive happiness. Bixiou, in + his capacity as an observing and misanthropical scoffer, desired nothing + better than to undertake such a mission. When he had made known Madame + Bridau’s condition to the Comte de Brambourg, who received him in a + bedroom hung with yellow damask, the colonel laughed. + </p> + <p> + “What the devil do you want me to do there?” he cried. “The only service + the poor woman can render me is to die as soon as she can; she would be + rather a sorry figure at my marriage with Mademoiselle de Soulanges. The + less my family is seen, the better my position. You can easily understand + that I should like to bury the name of Bridau under all the monuments in + Pere-Lachaise. My brother irritates me by bringing the name into + publicity. You are too knowing not to see the situation as I do. Look at + it as if it were your own: if you were a deputy, with a tongue like yours, + you would be as much feared as Chauvelin; you would be made Comte Bixiou, + and director of the Beaux-Arts. Once there, how should you like it if your + grandmother Descoings were to turn up? Would you want that worthy woman, + who looked like a Madame Saint-Leon, to be hanging on to you? Would you + give her an arm in the Tuileries, and present her to the noble family you + were trying to enter? Damn it, you’d wish her six feet under ground, in a + leaden night-gown. Come, breakfast with me, and let us talk of something + else. I am a parvenu, my dear fellow, and I know it. I don’t choose that + my swaddling-clothes shall be seen. My son will be more fortunate than I; + he will be a great lord. The scamp will wish me dead; I expect it,—or + he won’t be my son.” + </p> + <p> + He rang the bell, and ordered the servant to serve breakfast. + </p> + <p> + “The fashionable world wouldn’t see you in your mother’s bedroom,” said + Bixiou. “What would it cost you to seem to love that poor woman for a few + hours?” + </p> + <p> + “Whew!” cried Philippe, winking. “So you come from them, do you? I’m an + old camel, who knows all about genuflections. My mother makes the excuse + of her last illness to get something out of me for Joseph. No, thank you!” + </p> + <p> + When Bixiou related this scene to Joseph, the poor painter was chilled to + the very soul. + </p> + <p> + “Does Philippe know I am ill?” asked Agathe in a piteous tone, the day + after Bixiou had rendered an account of his fruitless errand. + </p> + <p> + Joseph left the room, suffocating with emotion. The Abbe Loraux, who was + sitting by the bedside of his penitent, took her hand and pressed it, and + then he answered, “Alas! my child, you have never had but one son.” + </p> + <p> + The words, which Agathe understood but too well, conveyed a shock which + was the beginning of the end. She died twenty hours later. + </p> + <p> + In the delirium which preceded death, the words, “Whom does Philippe take + after?” escaped her. + </p> + <p> + Joseph followed his mother to the grave alone. Philippe had gone, on + business it was said, to Orleans; in reality, he was driven from Paris by + the following letter, which Joseph wrote to him a moment after their + mother had breathed her last sigh:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Monster! my poor mother has died of the shock your letter caused + her. Wear mourning, but pretend illness; I will not suffer her + assassin to stand at my side before her coffin. + + Joseph B. +</pre> + <p> + The painter, who no longer had the heart to paint, though his bitter grief + sorely needed the mechanical distraction which labor is wont to give, was + surrounded by friends who agreed with one another never to leave him + entirely alone. Thus it happened that Bixiou, who loved Joseph as much as + a satirist can love any one, was sitting in the atelier with a group of + other friends about two weeks after Agathe’s funeral. The servant entered + with a letter, brought by an old woman, she said, who was waiting below + for the answer. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Monsieur,—To you, whom I scarcely dare to call my brother, I am + forced to address myself, if only on account of the name I bear.— +</pre> + <p> + Joseph turned the page and read the signature. The name “Comtesse Flore de + Brambourg” made him shudder. He foresaw some new atrocity on the part of + his brother. + </p> + <p> + “That brigand,” he cried, “is the devil’s own. And he calls himself a man + of honor! And he wears a lot of crosses on his breast! And he struts about + at court instead of being bastinadoed! And the scoundrel is called + Monsieur le Comte!” + </p> + <p> + “There are many like him,” said Bixiou. + </p> + <p> + “After all,” said Joseph, “the Rabouilleuse deserves her fate, whatever it + is. She is not worth pitying; she’d have had my neck wrung like a + chicken’s without so much as saying, ‘He’s innocent.’” + </p> + <p> + Joseph flung away the letter, but Bixiou caught it in the air, and read it + aloud, as follows:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Is it decent that the Comtesse Bridau de Brambourg should die in a + hospital, no matter what may have been her faults? If such is to + be my fate, if such is your determination and that of monsieur le + comte, so be it; but if so, will you, who are the friend of Doctor + Bianchon, ask him for a permit to let me enter a hospital? + + The person who carries this letter has been eleven consecutive + days to the hotel de Brambourg, rue de Clichy, without getting any + help from my husband. The poverty in which I now am prevents my + employing a lawyer to make a legal demand for what is due to me, + that I may die with decency. Nothing can save me, I know that. In + case you are unwilling to see your unhappy sister-in-law, send me, + at least, the money to end my days. Your brother desires my death; + he has always desired it. He warned me that he knew three ways of + killing a woman, but I had not the sense to foresee the one he has + employed. + + In case you will consent to relieve me, and judge for yourself the + misery in which I now am, I live in the rue du Houssay, at the + corner of the rue Chantereine, on the fifth floor. If I cannot pay + my rent to-morrow I shall be put out—and then, where can I go? + May I call myself, + + Your sister-in-law, + + Comtesse Flore de Brambourg. +</pre> + <p> + “What a pit of infamy!” cried Joseph; “there is something under it all.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us send for the woman who brought the letter; we may get the preface + of the story,” said Bixiou. + </p> + <p> + The woman presently appeared, looking, as Bixiou observed, like + perambulating rags. She was, in fact, a mass of old gowns, one on top of + another, fringed with mud on account of the weather, the whole mounted on + two thick legs with heavy feet which were ill-covered by ragged stockings + and shoes from whose cracks the water oozed upon the floor. Above the + mound of rags rose a head like those that Charlet has given to his + scavenger-women, caparisoned with a filthy bandanna handkerchief slit in + the folds. + </p> + <p> + “What is your name?” said Joseph, while Bixiou sketched her, leaning on an + umbrella belonging to the year II. of the Republic. + </p> + <p> + “Madame Gruget, at your service. I’ve seen better days, my young + gentleman,” she said to Bixiou, whose laugh affronted her. “If my poor + girl hadn’t had the ill-luck to love some one too much, you wouldn’t see + me what I am. She drowned herself in the river, my poor Ida,—saving + your presence! I’ve had the folly to nurse up a quaterne, and that’s why, + at seventy-seven years of age, I’m obliged to take care of sick folks for + ten sous a day, and go—” + </p> + <p> + “—without clothes?” said Bixiou. “My grandmother nursed up a trey, + but she dressed herself properly.” + </p> + <p> + “Out of my ten sous I have to pay for a lodging—” + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter with the lady you are nursing?” + </p> + <p> + “In the first place, she hasn’t got any money; and then she has a disease + that scares the doctors. She owes me for sixty days’ nursing; that’s why I + keep on nursing her. The husband, who is a count,—she is really a + countess,—will no doubt pay me when she is dead; and so I’ve lent + her all I had. And now I haven’t anything; all I did have has gone to the + pawn-brokers. She owes me forty-seven francs and twelve sous, beside + thirty francs for the nursing. She wants to kill herself with charcoal. I + tell her it ain’t right; and, indeed, I’ve had to get the concierge to + look after her while I’m gone, or she’s likely to jump out of the window.” + </p> + <p> + “But what’s the matter with her?” said Joseph. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! monsieur, the doctor from the Sisters’ hospital came; but as to the + disease,” said Madame Gruget, assuming a modest air, “he told me she must + go to the hospital. The case is hopeless.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us go and see her,” said Bixiou. + </p> + <p> + “Here,” said Joseph to the woman, “take these ten francs.” + </p> + <p> + Plunging his hand into the skull and taking out all his remaining money, + the painter called a coach from the rue Mazarin and went to find Bianchon, + who was fortunately at home. Meantime Bixiou went off at full speed to the + rue de Bussy, after Desroches. The four friends reached Flore’s retreat in + the rue du Houssay an hour later. + </p> + <p> + “That Mephistopheles on horseback, named Philippe Bridau,” said Bixiou, as + they mounted the staircase, “has sailed his boat cleverly to get rid of + his wife. You know our old friend Lousteau? well, Philippe paid him a + thousand francs a month to keep Madame Bridau in the society of Florine, + Mariette, Tullia, and the Val-Noble. When Philippe saw his crab-girl so + used to pleasure and dress that she couldn’t do without them, he stopped + paying the money, and left her to get it as she could—it is easy to + know how. By the end of eighteen months, the brute had forced his wife, + stage by stage, lower and lower; till at last, by the help of a young + officer, he gave her a taste for drinking. As he went up in the world, his + wife went down; and the countess is now in the mud. The girl, bred in the + country, has a strong constitution. I don’t know what means Philippe has + lately taken to get rid of her. I am anxious to study this precious little + drama, for I am determined to avenge Joseph here. Alas, friends,” he + added, in a tone which left his three companions in doubt whether he was + jesting or speaking seriously, “give a man over to a vice and you’ll get + rid of him. Didn’t Hugo say: ‘She loved a ball, and died of it’? So it is. + My grandmother loved the lottery. Old Rouget loved a loose life, and + Lolotte killed him. Madame Bridau, poor woman, loved Philippe, and + perished of it. Vice! vice! my dear friends, do you want to know what vice + is? It is the Bonneau of death.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you’ll die of a joke,” said Desroches, laughing. + </p> + <p> + Above the fourth floor, the young men were forced to climb one of the + steep, straight stairways that are almost ladders, by which the attics of + Parisian houses are often reached. Though Joseph, who remembered Flore in + all her beauty, expected to see some frightful change, he was not prepared + for the hideous spectacle which now smote his artist’s eye. In a room with + bare, unpapered walls, under the sharp pitch of an attic roof, on a cot + whose scanty mattress was filled, perhaps, with refuse cotton, a woman + lay, green as a body that has been drowned two days, thin as a consumptive + an hour before death. This putrid skeleton had a miserable checked + handkerchief bound about her head, which had lost its hair. The circle + round the hollow eyes was red, and the eyelids were like the pellicle of + an egg. Nothing remained of the body, once so captivating, but an ignoble, + bony structure. As Flore caught sight of the visitors, she drew across her + breast a bit of muslin which might have been a fragment of a + window-curtain, for it was edged with rust as from a rod. The young men + saw two chairs, a broken bureau on which was a tallow-candle stuck into a + potato, a few dishes on the floor, and an earthen fire-pot in a corner of + the chimney, in which there was no fire; this was all the furniture of the + room. Bixiou noticed the remaining sheets of writing-paper, brought from + some neighboring grocery for the letter which the two women had doubtless + concocted together. The word “disgusting” is a positive to which no + superlative exists, and we must therefore use it to convey the impression + caused by this sight. When the dying woman saw Joseph approaching her, two + great tears rolled down her cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “She can still weep!” whispered Bixiou. “A strange sight,—tears from + dominos! It is like the miracle of Moses.” + </p> + <p> + “How burnt up!” cried Joseph. + </p> + <p> + “In the fires of repentance,” said Flore. “I cannot get a priest; I have + nothing, not even a crucifix, to help me see God. Ah, monsieur!” she + cried, raising her arms, that were like two pieces of carved wood, “I am a + guilty woman; but God never punished any one as he has punished me! + Philippe killed Max, who advised me to do dreadful things, and now he has + killed me. God uses him as a scourge!” + </p> + <p> + “Leave me alone with her,” said Bianchon, “and let me find out if the + disease is curable.” + </p> + <p> + “If you cure her, Philippe Bridau will die of rage,” said Desroches. “I am + going to draw up a statement of the condition in which we have found his + wife. He has not brought her before the courts as an adulteress, and + therefore her rights as a wife are intact: he shall have the shame of a + suit. But first, we must remove the Comtesse de Brambourg to the private + hospital of Doctor Dubois, in the rue du Faubourg-Saint-Denis. She will be + well cared for there. Then I will summon the count for the restoration of + the conjugal home.” + </p> + <p> + “Bravo, Desroches!” cried Bixiou. “What a pleasure to do so much good that + will make some people feel so badly!” + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes later, Bianchon came down and joined them. + </p> + <p> + “I am going straight to Despleins,” he said. “He can save the woman by an + operation. Ah! he will take good care of the case, for her abuse of liquor + has developed a magnificent disease which was thought to be lost.” + </p> + <p> + “Wag of a mangler! Isn’t there but one disease in life?” cried Bixiou. + </p> + <p> + But Bianchon was already out of sight, so great was his haste to tell + Despleins the wonderful news. Two hours later, Joseph’s miserable + sister-in-law was removed to the decent hospital established by Doctor + Dubois, which was afterward bought of him by the city of Paris. Three + weeks later, the “Hospital Gazette” published an account of one of the + boldest operations of modern surgery, on a case designated by the initials + “F. B.” The patient died,—more from the exhaustion produced by + misery and starvation than from the effects of the treatment. + </p> + <p> + No sooner did this occur, than the Comte de Brambourg went, in deep + mourning, to call on the Comte de Soulanges, and inform him of the sad + loss he had just sustained. Soon after, it was whispered about in the + fashionable world that the Comte de Soulanges would shortly marry his + daughter to a parvenu of great merit, who was about to be appointed + brigadier-general and receive command of a regiment of the Royal Guard. De + Marsay told this news to Eugene de Rastignac, as they were supping + together at the Rocher de Cancale, where Bixiou happened to be. + </p> + <p> + “It shall not take place!” said the witty artist to himself. + </p> + <p> + Among the many old friends whom Philippe now refused to recognize, there + were some, like Giroudeau, who were unable to revenge themselves; but it + happened that he had wounded Bixiou, who, thanks to his brilliant + qualities, was everywhere received, and who never forgave an insult. One + day at the Rocher de Cancale, before a number of well-bred persons who + were supping there, Philippe had replied to Bixiou, who spoke of visiting + him at the hotel de Brambourg: “You can come and see me when you are made + a minister.” + </p> + <p> + “Am I to turn Protestant before I can visit you?” said Bixiou, pretending + to misunderstand the speech; but he said to himself, “You may be Goliath, + but I have got my sling, and plenty of stones.” + </p> + <p> + The next day he went to an actor, who was one of his friends, and + metamorphosed himself, by the all-powerful aid of dress, into a + secularized priest with green spectacles; then he took a carriage and + drove to the hotel de Soulanges. Received by the count, on sending in a + message that he wanted to speak with him on a matter of serious + importance, he related in a feigned voice the whole story of the dead + countess, the secret particulars of whose horrible death had been confided + to him by Bianchon; the history of Agathe’s death; the history of old + Rouget’s death, of which the Comte de Brambourg had openly boasted; the + history of Madame Descoings’s death; the history of the theft from the + newspaper; and the history of Philippe’s private morals during his early + days. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le comte, don’t give him your daughter until you have made every + inquiry; interrogate his former comrades,—Bixiou, Giroudeau, and + others.” + </p> + <p> + Three months later, the Comte de Brambourg gave a supper to du Tillet, + Nucingen, Eugene de Rastignac, Maxime de Trailles, and Henri de Marsay. + The amphitryon accepted with much nonchalance the half-consolatory + condolences they made to him as to his rupture with the house of + Soulanges. + </p> + <p> + “You can do better,” said Maxime de Trailles. + </p> + <p> + “How much money must a man have to marry a demoiselle de Grandlieu?” asked + Philippe of de Marsay. + </p> + <p> + “You? They wouldn’t give you the ugliest of the six for less than ten + millions,” answered de Marsay insolently. + </p> + <p> + “Bah!” said Rastignac. “With an income of two hundred thousand francs you + can have Mademoiselle de Langeais, the daughter of the marquis; she is + thirty years old, and ugly, and she hasn’t a sou; that ought to suit you.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall have ten millions two years from now,” said Philippe Bridau. + </p> + <p> + “It is now the 16th of January, 1829,” cried du Tillet, laughing. “I have + been hard at work for ten years and I have not made as much as that yet.” + </p> + <p> + “We’ll take counsel of each other,” said Bridau; “you shall see how well I + understand finance.” + </p> + <p> + “How much do you really own?” asked Nucingen. + </p> + <p> + “Three millions, excluding my house and my estate, which I shall not sell; + in fact, I cannot, for the property is now entailed and goes with the + title.” + </p> + <p> + Nucingen and du Tillet looked at each other; after that sly glance du + Tillet said to Philippe, “My dear count, I shall be delighted to do + business with you.” + </p> + <p> + De Marsay intercepted the look du Tillet had exchanged with Nucingen, and + which meant, “We will have those millions.” The two bank magnates were at + the centre of political affairs, and could, at a given time, manipulate + matters at the Bourse, so as to play a sure game against Philippe, when + the probabilities might all seem for him and yet be secretly against him. + </p> + <p> + The occasion came. In July, 1830, du Tillet and Nucingen had helped the + Comte de Brambourg to make fifteen hundred thousand francs; he could + therefore feel no distrust of those who had given him such good advice. + Philippe, who owed his rise to the Restoration, was misled by his profound + contempt for “civilians”; he believed in the triumph of the Ordonnances, + and was bent on playing for a rise; du Tillet and Nucingen, who were sure + of a revolution, played against him for a fall. The crafty pair confirmed + the judgment of the Comte de Brambourg and seemed to share his + convictions; they encouraged his hopes of doubling his millions, and + apparently took steps to help him. Philippe fought like a man who had four + millions depending on the issue of the struggle. His devotion was so + noticeable, that he received orders to go to Saint-Cloud with the Duc de + Maufrigneuse and attend a council. This mark of favor probably saved + Philippe’s life; for when the order came, on the 25th of July, he was + intending to make a charge and sweep the boulevards, when he would + undoubtedly have been shot down by his friend Giroudeau, who commanded a + division of the assailants. + </p> + <p> + A month later, nothing was left of Colonel Bridau’s immense fortune but + his house and furniture, his estates, and the pictures which had come from + Issoudun. He committed the still further folly, as he said himself, of + believing in the restoration of the elder branch, to which he remained + faithful until 1834. The not imcomprehensible jealousy Philippe felt on + seeing Giroudeau a colonel drove him to re-enter the service. Unluckily + for himself, he obtained, in 1835, the command of a regiment in Algiers, + where he remained three years in a post of danger, always hoping for the + epaulets of a general. But some malignant influence—that, in fact, + of General Giroudeau,—continually balked him. Grown hard and brutal, + Philippe exceeded the ordinary severity of the service, and was hated, in + spite of his bravery a la Murat. + </p> + <p> + At the beginning of the fatal year 1839, while making a sudden dash upon + the Arabs during a retreat before superior forces, he flung himself + against the enemy, followed by only a single company, and fell in, + unfortunately, with the main body of the enemy. The battle was bloody and + terrible, man to man, and only a few horsemen escaped alive. Seeing that + their colonel was surrounded, these men, who were at some distance, were + unwilling to perish uselessly in attempting to rescue him. They heard his + cry: “Your colonel! to me! a colonel of the Empire!” but they rejoined the + regiment. Philippe met with a horrible death, for the Arabs, after hacking + him to pieces with their scimitars, cut off his head. + </p> + <p> + Joseph, who was married about this time, through the good offices of the + Comte de Serizy, to the daughter of a millionaire farmer, inherited his + brother’s house in Paris and the estate of Brambourg, in consequence of + the entail, which Philippe, had he foreseen this result, would certainly + have broken. The chief pleasure the painter derived from his inheritance + was in the fine collection of paintings from Issoudun. He now possesses an + income of sixty thousand francs, and his father-in-law, the farmer, + continues to pile up the five-franc pieces. Though Joseph Bridau paints + magnificent pictures, and renders important services to artists, he is not + yet a member of the Institute. As the result of a clause in the deed of + entail, he is now Comte de Brambourg, a fact which often makes him roar + with laughter among his friends in the atelier. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ADDENDUM + </h2> + <h3> + The following personages appear in other stories of the Human Comedy. + </h3> + <p> + Note: The Two Brothers is also known as A Bachelor’s Establishment and The + Black Sheep. In other Addendum appearances it is referred to as A + Bachelor’s Establishment. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Bianchon, Horace + Father Goriot + The Atheist’s Mass + Cesar Birotteau + The Commission in Lunacy + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + The Secrets of a Princess + The Government Clerks + Pierrette + A Study of Woman + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + Honorine + The Seamy Side of History + The Magic Skin + A Second Home + A Prince of Bohemia + Letters of Two Brides + The Muse of the Department + The Imaginary Mistress + The Middle Classes + Cousin Betty + The Country Parson + In addition, M. Bianchon narrated the following: + Another Study of Woman + La Grande Breteche + + Birotteau, Cesar + Cesar Birotteau + At the Sign of the Cat and Racket + + Bixiou, Jean-Jacques + The Purse + The Government Clerks + Modeste Mignon + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + The Firm of Nucingen + The Muse of the Department + Cousin Betty + The Member for Arcis + Beatrix + A Man of Business + Gaudissart II. + The Unconscious Humorists + Cousin Pons + + Brambourg, Comte de (Title of Philippe Bridau, later Joseph) + The Unconscious Humorists + + Bridau, Philippe + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + + Bridau, Joseph + The Purse + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + A Start in Life + Modeste Mignon + Another Study of Woman + Pierre Grassou + Letters of Two Brides + Cousin Betty + The Member for Arcis + + Bruel, Jean Francois du + The Government Clerks + A Start in Life + A Prince of Bohemia + The Middle Classes + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + A Daughter of Eve + + Bruel, Claudine Chaffaroux, Madame du + A Prince of Bohemia + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + Letters of Two Brides + The Middle Classes + + Cabirolle, Madame + A Start in Life + + Cabirolle, Agathe-Florentine + A Start in Life + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + + Camusot + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + Cousin Pons + The Muse of the Department + Cesar Birotteau + At the Sign of the Cat and Racket + + Cardot, Jean-Jerome-Severin + A Start in Life + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + At the Sign of the Cat and Racket + Cesar Birotteau + + Chaulieu, Henri, Duc de + Letters of Two Brides + Modest Mignon + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + The Thirteen + + Chrestien, Michel + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + The Secrets of a Princess + + Claparon, Charles + Cesar Birotteau + Melmoth Reconciled + The Firm of Nucingen + A Man of Business + The Middle Classes + + Coloquinte + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + + Coralie, Mademoiselle + A Start in Life + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + + Desplein + The Atheist’s Mass + Cousin Pons + Lost Illusions + The Thirteen + The Government Clerks + Pierrette + The Seamy Side of History + Modest Mignon + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + Honorine + + Desroches (son) + Colonel Chabert + A Start in Life + A Woman of Thirty + The Commission in Lunacy + The Government Clerks + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + The Firm of Nucingen + A Man of Business + The Middle Classes + + Finot, Andoche + Cesar Birotteau + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + The Government Clerks + A Start in Life + Gaudissart the Great + The Firm of Nucingen + + Gaillard, Madame Theodore + Jealousies of a Country Town + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + Beatrix + The Unconscious Humorists + + Gerard, Francois-Pascal-Simon, Baron + Beatrix + + Giraud, Leon + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + The Secrets of a Princess + The Unconscious Humorists + + Giroudeau + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + A Start in Life + + Gobseck, Esther Van + Gobseck + The Firm of Nucingen + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + + Godeschal, Francois-Claude-Marie + Colonel Chabert + A Start in Life + The Commission in Lunacy + The Middle Classes + Cousin Pons + + Godeschal, Marie + A Start in Life + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + Cousin Pons + + Grandlieu, Duc Ferdinand de + The Gondreville Mystery + The Thirteen + Modeste Mignon + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + + Grandlieu, Mademoiselle de + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + + Grassou, Pierre + Pierre Grassou + Cousin Betty + The Middle Classes + Cousin Pons + + Gruget, Madame Etienne + The Thirteen + The Government Clerks + + Haudry (doctor) + Cesar Birotteau + The Thirteen + The Seamy Side of History + Cousin Pons + + Lora, Leon de + The Unconscious Humorists + A Start in Life + Pierre Grassou + Honorine + Cousin Betty + Beatrix + + Loraux, Abbe + A Start in Life + Cesar Birotteau + Honorine + + Lousteau, Etienne + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + A Daughter of Eve + Beatrix + The Muse of the Department + Cousin Betty + A Prince of Bohemia + A Man of Business + The Middle Classes + The Unconscious Humorists + + Lupeaulx, Clement Chardin des + The Muse of the Department + Eugenie Grandet + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + The Government Clerks + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + Ursule Mirouet + + Magus, Elie + The Vendetta + A Marriage Settlement + Pierre Grassou + Cousin Pons + + Matifat (wealthy druggist) + Cesar Birotteau + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + The Firm of Nucingen + Cousin Pons + + Maufrigneuse, Duc de + The Secrets of a Princess + A Start in Life + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + + Nathan, Madame Raoul + The Muse of the Department + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + The Government Clerks + Ursule Mirouet + Eugenie Grandet + The Imaginary Mistress + A Prince of Bohemia + A Daughter of Eve + The Unconscious Humorists + + Navarreins, Duc de + Colonel Chabert + The Muse of the Department + The Thirteen + Jealousies of a Country Town + The Peasantry + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + The Country Parson + The Magic Skin + The Gondreville Mystery + The Secrets of a Princess + Cousin Betty + + Rhetore, Duc Alphonse de + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + Letters of Two Brides + Albert Savarus + The Member for Arcis + + Ridal, Fulgence + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + The Unconscious Humorists + + Roguin + Cesar Birotteau + Eugenie Grandet + Pierrette + The Vendetta + + Rouget, Jean-Jacques + The Muse of the Department + + Schinner, Hippolyte + The Purse + Pierre Grassou + A Start in Life + Albert Savarus + The Government Clerks + Modeste Mignon + The Imaginary Mistress + The Unconscious Humorists + + Serizy, Comte Hugret de + A Start in Life + Honorine + Modeste Mignon + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + + Tillet, Ferdinand du + Cesar Birotteau + The Firm of Nucingen + The Middle Classes + Pierrette + Melmoth Reconciled + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + The Secrets of a Princess + A Daughter of Eve + The Member for Arcis + Cousin Betty + The Unconscious Humorists + + Touches, Mademoiselle Felicite des + Beatrix + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + Another Study of Woman + A Daughter of Eve + Honorine + Beatrix + The Muse of the Department + + Vernou, Felicien + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + A Daughter of Eve + Cousin Betty +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1380 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |