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diff --git a/38001-h/38001-h.htm b/38001-h/38001-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..de40624 --- /dev/null +++ b/38001-h/38001-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,25383 @@ +<!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" xml:lang="en"> + <head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> +<title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Sans-Cravate; The Little Streams, by Paul De Kock. +</title> +<style type="text/css"> + p {margin-top:.2em;text-align:justify;margin-bottom:.2em;text-indent:2%;} + +.c {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;margin:2% auto 2% auto;} + +.cb {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;font-weight:bold;} + +.hchar {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;margin:2% auto 1% auto;} + +.nind {text-indent:0%;} + +.r {text-align:right;margin-right: 5%;} + +.red {color:#B05548;} + +small {font-size: 70%;} + + h1 {margin:5% auto 2% auto;text-align:center;clear:both;} + + h2 {margin:5% auto 2% auto;text-align:center;clear:both; +font-size:120%;} + + hr {width:90%;margin:2em auto 2em auto;clear:both;color:black;} + + hr.full {width: 50%;margin:5% auto 5% auto;border:4px double gray;} + + table {margin:2% auto 2% auto;border:none;text-align:left;} + + body{margin-left:2%;margin-right:2%;background:#fdfdfd;color:black;font-family:"Times New Roman", serif;font-size:medium;} + +a:link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} + + link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} + +a:visited {background-color:#ffffff;color:purple;text-decoration:none;} + +a:hover {background-color:#ffffff;color:#FF0000;text-decoration:underline;} + + img {border:none;} + +.blockquot {margin:3% auto 3% auto;} + +.caption {font-weight:400;font-size:90%;font-style:italic;text-align:center;} + +.figcenter {margin:auto;text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} + +.footnotes {border:dotted 2px gray;margin-top: 5%;clear:both;} + +.footnote {width:95%;margin:auto 3% 1% auto;font-size:0.9em;position:relative;} + +.label {position:relative;left:-.5em;top:0;text-align:left;font-size:.8em;} + +.fnanchor {vertical-align:30%;font-size:.8em;} +</style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of San-Cravate; or, The Messengers; Little +Streams, by Charles Paul de Kock + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: San-Cravate; or, The Messengers; Little Streams + +Author: Charles Paul de Kock + +Release Date: November 12, 2011 [EBook #38001] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SANS-CRAVATE *** + + + + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images available at The Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" summary="CONTENTS" +style="border:2px solid gray;"> +<tr><th colspan="3" align="center">Novels of Paul de Kock, Volumes III and IV</th></tr> +<tr valign="top"><td><a href="#SANS-CRAVATE">Sans-Cravate: </a></td> +<td><a href="#VOLUMEI">Volume I</a>: +<a href="#I">I, </a> +<a href="#II">II, </a> +<a href="#III">III, </a> +<a href="#IV">IV, </a> +<a href="#V">V, </a> +<a href="#VI">VI, </a> +<a href="#VII">VII, </a> +<a href="#VIII">VIII, </a> +<a href="#IX">IX, </a> +<a href="#X">X, </a> +<a href="#XI">XI, </a> +<a href="#XII">XII, </a> +<a href="#XIII">XIII, </a> +<a href="#XIV">XIV, </a> +<a href="#XV">XV, </a> +<a href="#XVI">XVI, </a> +<a href="#XVII">XVII, </a> +<a href="#XVIII">XVIII, </a> +<a href="#XIX">XIX, </a> +<a href="#XX">XX, </a> +<a href="#XXI">XXI, </a> +<a href="#XXII">XXII</a></td> + +<td><a href="#VOLUMEII">Volume II</a>: + +<a href="#XXIII">XXIII, </a> +<a href="#XXIV">XXIV, </a> +<a href="#XXV">XXV, </a> +<a href="#XXVI">XXVI, </a> +<a href="#XXVII">XXVII, </a> +<a href="#XXVIII">XXVIII, </a> +<a href="#XXIX">XXIX, </a> +<a href="#XXX">XXX</a></td></tr> + +<tr valign="top"> +<td> </td> +<td> </td><td><a href="#LITTLE_STREAMS">Little Streams: </a><br /> +<a href="#I-ls">I, </a> +<a href="#II-ls">II, </a> +<a href="#III-ls">III, </a> +<a href="#IV-ls">IV, </a> +<a href="#V-ls">V, </a> +<a href="#VI-ls">VI, </a> +<a href="#VII-ls">VII, </a> +<a href="#VIII-ls">VIII, </a> +<a href="#IX-ls">IX, </a> +<a href="#X-ls">X, </a> +<a href="#XI-ls">XI, </a> +<a href="#XII-ls">XII, </a> +<a href="#XIII-ls">XIII, </a> +<a href="#XIV-ls">XIV, </a> +<a href="#XV-ls">XV, </a> +<a href="#XVI-ls">XVI, </a> +<a href="#XVII-ls">XVII, </a> +<a href="#XVIII-ls">XVIII, </a> +<a href="#XIX-ls">XIX, </a> +<a href="#XX-ls">XX</a></td></tr> + +</table> + +<p class="c"><small>Copyright Copyright 1903 by G. Barrie & Sons.</small></p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/ill_frontis_vol_1.jpg" width="369" height="550" +alt="THE QUARREL AT THE WINE SHOP" title="THE QUARREL AT THE WINE SHOP" /></p> + +<p class="caption">THE QUARREL AT THE WINE SHOP<br /> +———<br /> +Bastringuette, with a violent wrench, released her arm from the hand +that held it; and snatching a plate from the table, held it over +Sans-Cravate's head, as if to strike him with it.</p> + +<p><a name="VOLUMEI" id="VOLUMEI"></a></p> + +<h1><small>NOVELS<br /> +BY</small><br /> +<big>Paul de Kock</big><br /> +<br /> +<span class="red"><small>VOLUME III<br /> +<br /><br /> +SANS-CRAVATE;<br /> +OR,<br /> +THE MESSENGERS<br /> +<br /> +VOL. I</small></span></h1> + +<p class="cb"><small>PRINTED BY ARRANGEMENT WITH<br /> +<br /> +GEORGE BARRIE'S SONS</small><br /> +<br /><br /><br /> +THE JEFFERSON PRESS<br /> +BOSTON NEW YORK<br /> +</p> + +<p> +<br /> +</p> + +<p class="c"><small><i>Copyrighted, 1903-1904, by G. B. & Sons.</i></small></p> + +<hr /> + +<p><a name="vol_3_page_001" id="vol_3_page_001"></a></p> + +<h1><a name="SANS-CRAVATE" id="SANS-CRAVATE"></a>SANS-CRAVATE;<br /><br /> +<small>OR,</small><br /><br /> +<small>THE MESSENGERS</small></h1> + +<p><a name="vol_3_page_002" id="vol_3_page_002"></a></p> + +<p><a name="vol_3_page_003" id="vol_3_page_003"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I<br /><br /> +<small>THE IDLERS.—BOULEVARD DES ITALIENS</small></h2> + +<p>Three young men, arm in arm, were walking, or, to speak more accurately, +loitering, along Boulevard des Italiens, looking to right and left, +scrutinizing the women at close quarters, especially when they were +pretty; commenting aloud on the face of one and the bearing of another, +interspersing their reflections with jests, puns, foolish remarks, and +bursts of laughter; and, lastly, smoking cigars, an accomplishment which +is now indispensable to the young men of fashion whose ordinary +promenade is the Boulevard de la Chaussée d'Antin.</p> + +<p>It is a little world in itself that frequents Boulevard des Italiens, a +fashionable, aristocratic, eccentric boulevard, where, none the less, +many of the promenaders affect manners, dress, and language which remind +us forcibly of Diogenes. Each portion of a large city has its quarters, +with their habitués and their residents, whose dress, language, and +manners have their own peculiar characteristics. Thus, there is a marked +difference between the costume of an annuitant of the Marais and that of +the ex-young man of the Chaussée d'Antin; between the dress of a grande +dame of Faubourg Saint-Germain and that of a bourgeois housewife of the +Cité; between the grisette of Rue Saint-Jacques and her of<a name="vol_3_page_004" id="vol_3_page_004"></a> Place Bréda, +who has lately taken the name of lorette. Of course, the residents of +one quarter do not remain altogether on their own territory, and they +may sometimes be met with in a neighboring section. But, even then, a +practised eye never makes a mistake; it recognizes the strangers at +once, and does not confound them with the natives of the quarter. In +vain do the former try to assume the bearing and manners of the +latter—the natural instincts, when we try to drive them away, return at +a gallop, and it would be as difficult for a government clerk who lives +on Rue Saint-Antoine to resemble a clerk in a banking house on Rue +Laffite, as for a siren of Place Maubert to copy the manners of a young +lady of Faubourg Saint-Honoré.</p> + +<p>Boulevard des Italiens is no ordinary promenade; it deserves the +attention of the observer; indeed, it is worthy of a chapter in the +history of Paris, for it has changed its name more than once in +accordance with political exigencies.</p> + +<p>At the time of the Revolution of '89, this segment of the boulevards was +called Coblentz, and it retained that name under the Empire. Not until +1815, at the time of the Second Restoration, did it exchange the name of +Coblentz for that of Gand. The former name recalled the place of +rendezvous of the <i>émigrés</i> of the Revolution; the other, the second +return of Louis XVIII. The French have always loved to bring politics +into the most trivial things; they have brought it into their ballads +and into the names of flowers; so they could consistently give a +political tinge to the name of a fashionable promenade. But the great +majority of the ladies who resort to Boulevard des Italiens in search of +conquests put no politics in their smiles; they are cosmopolites, for +they have been<a name="vol_3_page_005" id="vol_3_page_005"></a> known to dart glances impartially at republicans and +legitimists, at old soldiers of the Empire and favorites of the +Restoration; it has been observed, however, that they affect more +particularly the partisans of the <i>juste-milieu</i>.</p> + +<p>But do not believe that all the ladies who occupy the chairs along the +boulevard of a pleasant evening go thither to make conquests! The very +best society was often to be seen on Boulevard Coblentz, and later on +Boulevard de Gand; and may be seen sometimes, but more rarely, on +Boulevard des Italiens.</p> + +<p>People go there to discuss the new ballet at the Opéra, the last +performance at the Bouffes, the reception of Madame la Comtesse Blank, +and the ball recently given by the richest banker of the quarter. Some +meet there by appointment; some pay visits there. You will see young men +approach a party of ladies, stop before their chairs, salute them and +pay them compliments as they would do in a salon; and, after a few +moments' conversation, take leave of them and continue their stroll, +stopping again, perhaps, a little farther on, to speak to others of +their acquaintances.</p> + +<p>Some years ago, it was the fashion to make a careful toilet before going +to Boulevard de Gand; the ladies would exhibit a new style of +head-dress, the men were all fashionably dressed; when one of them +appeared with a coat of a new cut, the fashion was instantly adopted by +the dandies of the capital.</p> + +<p>Other times, other manners! It is no longer the fashion to dress for a +stroll on Boulevard des Italiens. Now that the cigar has invaded that +quarter, and most of the men smoke, the most fashionable young men seem +to affect a simple, even severe, costume, which makes them resemble<a name="vol_3_page_006" id="vol_3_page_006"></a> the +Puritans, as their beards remind one of the young noblemen of the time +of François I.</p> + +<p>Let us return to our three idlers.</p> + +<p>The one in the middle, who was not more than twenty-two years of age, +was above medium height; he was well built, slender, easy and graceful +in his bearing, and wore with much grace a morning costume, whose cut +betrayed the hand of an ultra-fashionable tailor. He wore patent-leather +boots, and carried in his hand a pretty little switch, the head of which +was a beautiful bit of chased silver. The young man's face did not clash +with the attractions of his dress and bearing. He was dark, and his +large black eyes emitted an incessant gleam, wherein wit, mockery, fun, +and sometimes emotion and sentiment, shone in turn. An irreproachable +nose, a well-shaped mouth, supplied with teeth so white as to justify a +feeling of pride therein; an oval face, with thin black whiskers and a +small moustache connecting them;—such was young Albert Vermoncey; one +could not justly deny him the title of a comely youth.</p> + +<p>On his left arm leaned a young man who was apparently some years older +than the fascinating Albert, but who was also one of the lions, or, if +you prefer, beaux, of the day. But his bearing lacked the grace wherein +lay his companion's charm. He was taller and stouter, but there was +stiffness in his gait, and affectation in the way he carried his head on +one side, and in the way he wore his hat over his ear. The difference in +the faces of the two was even more marked; taken separately, the +features of this second member of the party were not bad, but the whole +effect was far from pleasant. The color of his eyes was uncertain; and +then, too, he kept the lids lowered, and rarely looked at the person +with whom he was talking. Lastly, his face commonly wore a sarcastic +expression,<a name="vol_3_page_007" id="vol_3_page_007"></a> which was sometimes insulting; one would have said that he +was always inclined to pick a quarrel with someone. This young man's +name was Célestin de Valnoir.</p> + +<p>The individual who walked at Albert's right, but not on his arm, was of +about his age, but much shorter, and possessed of a very pronounced +embonpoint. His hair, which had a reddish tinge, curled naturally and +fell in abundance on each side of his face, which was round and fresh +and rosy, but a little too fat. He had attractive features: eyes almost +round, but of a very clear blue; a small aquiline nose, which seemed to +point to an Israelitish origin; red lips and very handsome teeth, and a +dimple in the middle of his chin. All these combined to make a very +attractive, chubby angel's face, which lacked character only, for its +expression very rarely varied; it was that of a person who is overjoyed +to be in the world. It required some very serious cause to banish his +stereotyped smile; but it disappeared when he thought that he had lost +his handkerchief or a piece of money. At such times an extraordinary +revolution took place in his features: his nose increased in size, his +mouth contracted, his eyes seemed to be on the point of starting from +their orbits; in fact, he became so ugly that he was almost +unrecognizable.</p> + +<p>This third idler was dressed with more pretension than taste; he had a +huge scarfpin, with a cameo; a heavy hair chain, which he wore about his +neck, fell over his waistcoat and held a little square monocle, which he +put in his right eye from time to time. Add to these a very fine Malacca +joint, with an enormous gold or gilt head, which he often held by the +middle and twirled in the air, and you have a fair portrait of Tobie +Pigeonnier. His baptismal name often led people to think that he was<a name="vol_3_page_008" id="vol_3_page_008"></a> +born in the Jewish religion; but whenever he was questioned on the +subject, he seemed to take offence at the suggestion that he was a +descendant of Jacob.</p> + +<p>Let us listen to the conversation of these young gentlemen; that is the +best way of making acquaintance with people.</p> + +<p>Albert Vermoncey was telling his two friends an anecdote which seemed to +amuse them mightily:</p> + +<p>"Yes, messieurs; it was at Madame Baldimer's last reception. You know +whom I mean? that American who has made such a sensation in Paris, +because she is very beautiful, very bright, and very original."</p> + +<p>"And who is supposed to be very rich," said Célestin.</p> + +<p>"Well, isn't she?" queried Tobie Pigeonnier, rubbing his nose with the +head of his cane.</p> + +<p>"Why, people are beginning to doubt it; she gives very few big dinners +now."</p> + +<p>"If she gives many small ones, that amounts to the same thing."</p> + +<p>"What a stupid creature you are, Tobie! Pray let me finish my story. +Madame Plays was there with her husband. Good God! what a husband! he +ought to serve as a model for them all."</p> + +<p>"Because his wife has given him a pair of horns that wouldn't pass under +Porte Saint-Denis?"</p> + +<p>"Oho!" said Tobie, laughing uproariously; "do you mean to say that poor +Monsieur Plays is a stag?"</p> + +<p>"I say, Célestin, to think that Tobie didn't know that! Where have you +been, my dear fellow—to the Marquesas Islands? to the kingdom of +Lahore?"</p> + +<p>"As if Tobie knew anything! When a man has passed his youth on Rue +Beaubourg, he is bound to be far behind the times."<a name="vol_3_page_009" id="vol_3_page_009"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh! I have lived on Rue de la Ferme-des-Mathurins more than three years +now."</p> + +<p>"Look, messieurs! see this coming toward us, with the little lilac hat +and the pink dress. I rather like the looks of it. Here's a chance to +shoot off your monocle, Tobie; especially as the wind makes the lady's +dress cling close to her thighs, and we are going before the wind."</p> + +<p>"She isn't pretty," said Célestin, as the person with the lilac hat +passed them.</p> + +<p>"Gad! Célestin, you shouted that in her ears; I'll bet that she heard +you."</p> + +<p>"Well, suppose she did? aren't opinions free? I say, Tobie; speaking of +Rue Beaubourg, I thought that nobody but Jews lived there."</p> + +<p>"That's a fable, you see, as I lived there."</p> + +<p>"That's no reason. You may be of that religion yourself."</p> + +<p>"I have told you many times that I am a Lutheran, of Polish descent. I +don't know why you insist on calling me a Jew."</p> + +<p>"Well, suppose you were a Jew," said Albert; "what harm would it do you? +Aren't there men of merit, men of genius, in all religions? and in +respect to the arts, fortune, and talents, the Jewish nation is one of +the most richly endowed at this moment. We are not living in the +barbarous times when the people loved of God were so badly treated, when +the children of Israel were compelled to wear a distinguishing mark on +their clothes and their hats."</p> + +<p>"It was a yellow mark," said Célestin, with a sneer.</p> + +<p>"Yes; and now that color has become so fashionable that a yellow mark +would not be distinctive at all. Ah! there's a young actress from the +Variétés. Whom is she with to-day?"<a name="vol_3_page_010" id="vol_3_page_010"></a></p> + +<p>"With an Englishman who is in a fair way to ruin himself for her. It +won't take long; she makes her adorers strike a fast pace."</p> + +<p>"She is right; she is the fashion now, and she is making the most of it. +It doesn't last long in Paris."</p> + +<p>"But it seems to me that I could mention several ladies of her stamp who +have been the fashion for fifteen years at least. What a pile of money +they have fricasseed, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Do you know, I like the word <i>fricasseed</i>; it's a fact that they spend +it with all sorts of sauce."</p> + +<p>"If only they had the sense to put some of it by; then they wouldn't be +obliged to end as box openers, after cutting a brilliant figure on the +stage."</p> + +<p>"Put money by! that's a reflection quite worthy of Tobie! What I can't +understand is, how he ever made up his mind to buy such a big pin, with +a cameo. How much did your cameo cost, Tobie? and your cane must have +cost a lot, too. Damnation! what a swell! he denies himself nothing!"</p> + +<p>"True," said Célestin; "but it would be well to know if it's all real +gold."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Tobie Pigeonnier blushed to the end of his nose; but he +affected to laugh heartily, and replied:</p> + +<p>"Ah! Monsieur de Valnoir, how unkind of you! When you find me wearing +anything that isn't of the first quality, you will be very sharp. I care +for nothing, of any sort, that is not really choice. It's the same with +my linen—I must always have the very finest. The shirt I am wearing +cost me seventy-five francs."</p> + +<p>"Have you many dozens of that sort?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes; I like to have a lot of linen; I was brought up to that +habit. My mother had five or six large wardrobes filled with sheets—all +fine Holland. When I go into<a name="vol_3_page_011" id="vol_3_page_011"></a> partnership with my aunt, I shall deny +myself nothing; I shall have only the finest damask on my table——"</p> + +<p>"Have you an aunt in business?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; she sells all sorts of goods on commission. It's a big +establishment: twelve clerks and eight travelling men. She promised long +ago to put me at the head of it; and if it hadn't been for some +escapades of mine, she'd have done it before now."</p> + +<p>Célestin began to whistle between his teeth, and Albert, who had not +been listening to Tobie for several minutes, suddenly exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Isn't that Madame Baldimer in that little <i>citadine</i>?"</p> + +<p>Albert's two companions thereupon looked into the street, and Célestin, +after glancing at a carriage which was passing, replied:</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is she."</p> + +<p>"Was she alone?"</p> + +<p>"I think not; I thought that I caught a glimpse of a moustache beside +her face."</p> + +<p>Albert's face became clouded; he looked after the <i>citadine</i>, which was +already some distance away, then stopped and seemed to hesitate as to +what he should do next.</p> + +<p>"Well! what's the matter with you?" said Célestin, looking at his friend +as if he would have liked to read his inmost thoughts; "do you think of +following that carriage?"</p> + +<p>Albert tried to smile, as he replied:</p> + +<p>"The fact is that I am curious to know—— This Madame Baldimer is a +great flirt, but she has no lover, so far as anyone knows; she allows +everybody to pay court to her, and seems inclined to make sport of her +adorers."</p> + +<p>"Why is anyone foolish enough to pay court to her?"</p> + +<p>"Why, because she is lovely."</p> + +<p>"There's no lack of lovely women in Paris."<a name="vol_3_page_012" id="vol_3_page_012"></a></p> + +<p>"Nor in the suburbs," said Tobie. "I knew one at Nanterre. Such a love +of a woman!"</p> + +<p>"Did she sell cakes?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! you joker! cakes! She was a woman of very high position."</p> + +<p>"Did she live on a hill?"</p> + +<p>"She had a villa, monsieur, a magnificent villa."</p> + +<p>"At Nanterre? That is strange; I never happened to see any fine houses +there."</p> + +<p>"It wasn't just at Nanterre, but in the neighborhood."</p> + +<p>Albert Vermoncey was lost in thought; he walked very slowly, and turned +his head from time to time to see if he could still see the carriage.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Célestin, who, without seeming to do so, closely watched his +companion's movements, said, after a moment, dwelling significantly upon +his words:</p> + +<p>"A carriage is a very convenient thing, especially in Paris, where you +can always be certain of finding one with blinds. If you have a secret +errand to do, if you don't know where to meet your lover for a little +chat—why, you step into a <i>citadine</i>, you join the person in question +at the appointed place, she enters with you, you close the windows and +lower the blinds; and then—go where you choose, driver, you are hired +by the hour!—Drive through the most crowded streets of Paris, pass as +close as you please to a husband, or a rival—he will see nothing. +Sometimes, indeed, he will be the first to smile when he sees a +hermetically closed carriage, and will say: 'That probably conceals some +intrigue.'—Oh, yes! a carriage is a great convenience, I say again."</p> + +<p>"It is, and it is not," said young Tobie, affecting a cunning +expression; "because—— Still, if all the streets in Paris were paved +with wood, it would be all right."<a name="vol_3_page_013" id="vol_3_page_013"></a></p> + +<p>"Madame Baldimer did not hide," said Albert; "the blinds of her carriage +were not lowered."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps they are now," murmured Célestin.</p> + +<p>Albert clenched his hands as if he had had a spasm of pain.</p> + +<p>"I say, my dear Albert," said Tobie, after trying, but in vain, to fix +his little glass in his right eye, "are you in love with this Madame +Baldimer, that you seem inclined to follow her carriage?"</p> + +<p>"I, in love with her? upon my word! Do you suppose that I am idiotic +enough to fall in love with a woman again? I love them when they are +pretty; but it lasts just so long as is necessary to triumph over them; +that is quite enough. Mon Dieu! that is the best way to succeed with +women. But if you really love them, you become melancholy, jealous, a +bore to your friends; and your fair one no longer listens to you, and, +what is worse, deceives you. Madame Baldimer is very beautiful; I have +been attentive to her, as to many others."</p> + +<p>"Yes," rejoined Tobie, sucking the gold head of his cane; "that is our +business, to pay court to the ladies. Ah! if I should write my +adventures—I had an idea of doing it once; but it would have taken too +long; I hadn't the time, and the current forced me along."</p> + +<p>"Did Madame Baldimer listen to you favorably?" asked Célestin, with a +satirical glance at his friend.</p> + +<p>"Why, not less so than to others. I have already told you that she plays +the coquette with everybody and listens to no one."</p> + +<p>"I should say that the gentleman who was with her in the <i>citadine</i> just +now might think differently."</p> + +<p>Albert frowned and tapped his boot with his switch, as he replied:<a name="vol_3_page_014" id="vol_3_page_014"></a></p> + +<p>"You say that there was a man with her; I saw no one."</p> + +<p>"Because your sight is not good, apparently."</p> + +<p>"Ah! there's Désilly, the illustrious Désilly."</p> + +<p>Two young men who were just passing our three idlers stopped in front of +them. One of the two, who wore a broad-brimmed hat with a pointed crown, +and had a beard a sapper might have envied, shook hands with Albert and +Célestin in turn, saying:</p> + +<p>"How are you, boys! we are out for a stroll. I tell you, this is +something like! Who will give me a cigar? I've just finished mine."</p> + +<p>Albert took from his pocket a dainty cigar case of Italian straw, and +offered it to the two new-comers, each of whom took a cigar and lighted +it from Albert's and Célestin's; meanwhile, Tobie whispered in Albert's +ear:</p> + +<p>"Is that the artist Désilly, who draws such amusing, clever caricatures +in the paper?"</p> + +<p>"Himself."</p> + +<p>"Désilly," said Célestin, "you promised to show me the collection of +your latest caricatures, which I want to send to Bordeaux. When would +you like me to come?"</p> + +<p>"My boys, don't ask me anything at this moment; I have a love affair on +hand, and it is impossible for me to think of anything else. It may last +a week, perhaps two, but it surely won't go over a month; then I shall +be at your service. Adieu!"</p> + +<p>And the artist went off with his friend.</p> + +<p>"He has a love affair on hand," said Monsieur Tobie; "and it seems to +engage his attention to the exclusion of everything else."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but he knows the measure of his sentiments, and he never makes a +mistake. He is wiser than those<a name="vol_3_page_015" id="vol_3_page_015"></a> men who when they are attacked by a new +passion imagine that it will last forever!"</p> + +<p>"Do they think that, nowadays?" said Tobie, toying carelessly with his +hair chain. "By the way, Albert hasn't finished his story of Madame +Plays, whose husband is a second Acteon. I demand the rest of the story, +or my money back."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, the rest of the story," said Célestin.</p> + +<p>Albert resumed his narrative, but with much less animation, and as if he +were doing it solely to oblige.</p> + +<p>"Well, messieurs; Madame Plays was at Madame Baldimer's dance. The +company was slightly mixed, as you can understand. A foreigner who has +lived in Paris only a year cannot know very many people; and when she +chooses to give receptions and balls, she must necessarily accept with +confidence such guests as are presented to her; and her confidence is +often misplaced."</p> + +<p>"Sapristi! you are as verbose as a lawyer to-day, Albert."</p> + +<p>"Madame Plays was superb; she is somewhat massive, as you know, but a +very beautiful woman. Tall Saint-Clair, who was there, did not lose +sight of her, and made eyes at her—Gad! it was enough to make one burst +with laughter. Madame Plays responded, for lack of something better to +do. She is a woman who must always have occupation. All of a sudden, it +came into my head to rob that idiotic Saint-Clair of his conquest. I had +never before given a thought to Madame Plays, although I had frequently +met her in society. I had no sooner conceived the project, than I set to +work. Supper had just been served; I seated myself beside the emotional +Herminie—that is her name—and overwhelmed her with little attentions, +interspersed with tender words.<a name="vol_3_page_016" id="vol_3_page_016"></a> Ah! if you knew what success I had! it +went so quickly that I was almost frightened. She went so far as to tell +me that I had done very wrong not to declare myself sooner."</p> + +<p>"Peste! the lady regretted the time she had lost. And Saint-Clair?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! he was in an extraordinary state: as he was unable to obtain a seat +beside his passion, he stood behind her at first; then, when he found +that she didn't answer him, or pay any attention to him, he went off in +a rage and sat at the other end of the table, where he began to eat and +drink with a sort of frenzy; indeed, I think that he ended by getting a +little tipsy, for, when we returned to the salon to dance, he was +sitting in a corner, beside Monsieur Plays, and some people declared +that he wept while he was talking with him. I should not be at all +surprised if he had confided to him his chagrin at having failed to make +him a cuckold."</p> + +<p>"That would be charming. But the husband replied, no doubt: 'Never fear, +my friend; somebody else will.'"</p> + +<p>"I invited my conquest to dance. What a hussy she is! In the first +place, she didn't spare the madeira and the champagne; but she's not +like Saint-Clair, they didn't make her feel inclined to cry; on the +contrary, she danced with such vigor, such enthusiasm! it was impossible +to stop her. As we were all decidedly gay, somebody proposed dancing the +cancan—the real thing. The superb Herminie dances it as well as a +grisette from La Chaumière, and much more boldly than the lorettes at +the Bal Saint-Georges. Gad! you ought to have seen us! We were truly +admirable. The other women in the quadrille soon gave up their places, +but Madame Plays kept on, with myself and six other men, three of whom +danced<a name="vol_3_page_017" id="vol_3_page_017"></a> as women. There was a great ring around us. Upon my word, it was +a curious sight. I fancied that I heard somebody whisper that my partner +had imbibed too much madeira and champagne, but I believe her to be +quite capable of doing anything under heaven without the aid of liquor."</p> + +<p>"And Madame Baldimer?"</p> + +<p>"She didn't dance, but she laughed heartily."</p> + +<p>"There is no need of asking you if that intrigue came to a successful +end?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! it was so easy. I assure you that conquests like that are not at +all interesting, and there is so little difficulty about them that they +do not even flatter our vanity. That happened a fortnight ago, and my +only desire now is to rid myself of the passionate Herminie. Mon Dieu! +that reminds me that I have an appointment with her for this evening. +Messieurs, which of you would like to go in my place? I will turn over +my conquest to him, with all my heart."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," said Célestin, blowing a mouthful of smoke into the face of an +old woman who was passing; "Madame Plays doesn't tempt me. She is too +heavy for me."</p> + +<p>"Why, I should say that you were strong enough to carry her," said +Pigeonnier; "you have the build of an athlete, a gladiator. I am sure +that you could easily carry a bag of flour that weighs three hundred and +twenty-five."</p> + +<p>"And because you suppose that I can carry a bag of flour, you suggest +that I become Madame Plays's lover! The comparison is most flattering to +the lady! What brilliant ideas that devil of a Tobie has!"<a name="vol_3_page_018" id="vol_3_page_018"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II<br /><br /> +<small>THE FLOWER GIRL</small></h2> + +<p>At that moment a young woman, with her head enveloped in a silk +handkerchief, from beneath which long locks of chestnut hair emerged and +hung in corkscrew curls on both sides of her face, approached the young +men and accosted them with rather a brazen-faced air, thrusting divers +bunches of violets almost into their faces.</p> + +<p>"Messieurs, buy a bouquet of me, be the first to buy; you'll bring me +luck."</p> + +<p>"Aha! it's Bastringuette," said Albert, smiling at the girl, whose pale, +thin face, eyes circled with black, and hoarse voice, suggested a very +fatiguing profession.</p> + +<p>"Come, buy of me; you always have some lady to give flowers to! you're a +good customer!"</p> + +<p>"You strike me at a bad time, my poor girl; my love affairs are too +prosperous at this moment, I don't need to be gallant."</p> + +<p>"I say, Bastringuette, what sort of business are you doing, that you +have those black rings round your eyes, and look so fagged out?" said +Monsieur Célestin, taking the flower girl by the chin. She had large +brown eyes surmounted by heavy eyebrows, a large but well-shaped mouth, +and would still have been a seductive person had she but a little +fresher color and a less brazen expression.</p> + +<p>"I do what I want! What odds is it to you who never buy anything of me?"</p> + +<p>"Because I don't need to give bouquets to gain my ends, it is fair to +suppose."<a name="vol_3_page_019" id="vol_3_page_019"></a></p> + +<p>"Come, take away your paws! I don't wear anything false, I don't need to +be felt of!—And you, my little love, won't you buy something of me? +With such a face and style, you ought to have mistresses on every +street, and even on the boulevards!"</p> + +<p>This complimentary speech was addressed to Tobie Pigeonnier; he seemed +to be exceedingly flattered by it, and, to manifest his satisfaction, +rested his nose on each bunch of violets on her tray in turn, saying:</p> + +<p>"She's very amusing, very clever, this flower girl! She has a pair of +eyes—what pistols! how she fires 'em at you point-blank!"</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear boy, are you going to confine yourself to putting your +nose on all the bouquets? Thanks! You may sprinkle 'em, but that's not +the kind of dampness that keeps 'em fresh. Come, buy this bunch!"</p> + +<p>"No, I have no victims to sacrifice to-day; unless you would like to be +one—eh, hussy?"</p> + +<p>"Stop that! You're too puffy for me! I don't like wax figures; I should +be afraid you'd melt in my arms!"</p> + +<p>Albert and Célestin roared with laughter at the wry face which Tobie +made when he received this compliment from the flower girl. Having tried +once more to place his glass in his right eye, he cast a disdainful +glance at Mademoiselle Bastringuette, saying:</p> + +<p>"You are like your flowers, my dear; when one looks at you too close, he +sees that he would be cheated."</p> + +<p>"<i>Dame!</i> that's not like you! one has only to glance at you to be +satisfied that he gets nothing for his money."</p> + +<p>Tobie's two friends laughed louder than ever; and he concluded to try to +laugh with them, saying:</p> + +<p>"The devil! we're dealing with a good fighter! I fancy I shall not have +the last word with her."<a name="vol_3_page_020" id="vol_3_page_020"></a></p> + +<p>"Not the last word nor anything else, my little fat man. <i>Dame!</i> all the +pleasure we poor girls have is with our tongue! We must make the most of +it, for it don't cost anything."</p> + +<p>"Take care! The tongue is the best and the worst part of us. Æsop said +that."</p> + +<p>"I don't know the gentleman; but mine seems to be a good one, for it +don't wear out at all. It ain't like your waistcoat; see, monsieur, it's +giving out under the arms!"</p> + +<p>And Mademoiselle Bastringuette, whose eyes detected the most carefully +hidden secrets of a man's toilet, pointed out to Tobie's friends a place +in his silk waistcoat, which, although it was almost hidden by his coat, +she had discovered. There was a rent large enough to show the sleeve of +his shirt, which was of a coarse and yellow linen vastly different from +that of the front.</p> + +<p>The stout young man made haste to button his coat.</p> + +<p>"I must have torn it when I put it on," he said. "My tailor always makes +the armholes too small! and then, <i>crac!</i> an accident."</p> + +<p>"Oh! no, monsieur; that wasn't an accident! it's pretty well worn out on +that side. See, it's like my dress! There's some attic windows for you!"</p> + +<p>As she spoke, Mademoiselle Bastringuette lifted her arms and showed two +great holes in her dress, under her armpits.</p> + +<p>"I hope you'll believe that I've got another one to put on, though," she +continued, with a smile. "Bah! what do I care! it won't hinder my +selling my violets! And even if someone does see my skin! There's no +harm done, after all. I haven't got a turkey's skin, like lots of women +that have fine dresses and a dirty lining."<a name="vol_3_page_021" id="vol_3_page_021"></a></p> + +<p>"She's very original; indeed, she's quite—original, is this girl," said +Tobie, who was very glad that she had ceased to talk about his +waistcoat; "she amuses me mightily."</p> + +<p>"Why," said Albert, "didn't you know her before?"</p> + +<p>"This is the first time I ever saw her."</p> + +<p>"For a man who has lived in the Chaussée d'Antin for three years, that +is very surprising. Everybody about here knows Bastringuette, the flower +girl who sells violets on Boulevard des Italiens."</p> + +<p>"I seldom buy flowers; their odor makes me ill."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I sell violets when there are any," said Bastringuette; "but when +they're all gone, I sell other things—oranges, nuts, green peas, +lettuce. There's always something to sell, at all seasons, and that's +why they call us <i>marchandes des quatre saisons</i>."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me that your lover doesn't keep you very handsomely," +observed Célestin, with a mocking glance at the girl.</p> + +<p>"My lover! <i>dame!</i> I don't know how he does it, but he never has a sou; +and he's little better off for clothes than I am; luckily, love don't +need a new coat to keep warm."</p> + +<p>"Are you still with Sans-Cravate?" asked Albert, taking the largest +bunch of violets on the girl's tray.</p> + +<p>"To be sure. Oh! we poor girls aren't like the great ladies; we don't +change our bill of fare every day."</p> + +<p>"What! is that ne'er-do-well of a Sans-Cravate your lover?" said +Célestin. "I don't congratulate you, my poor Bastringuette! The fellow +often beats you, I suppose, doesn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Beat me!" cried the girl, contracting her heavy eyebrows. "When a man +beats me, it will be because I<a name="vol_3_page_022" id="vol_3_page_022"></a> have no teeth left to eat his eyes out, +and no nails to tear his nose. You think that a man beats his mistress, +just because he's a messenger! Oh, yes! that's all very nice, but it +ain't our style. We ain't brutes, just because we belong to the common +people. It's much more likely to be you who amuse yourself striking +women! The men who wear jackets ain't always the meanest curs. There are +some vile hearts under fine coats."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Célestin de Valnoir seemed far from pleased by this apostrophe; +he bit his lip, and there was something very like a threat in the look +he gave the girl; but she sustained it without the slightest evidence of +emotion.</p> + +<p>Tobie, enchanted to find that she paid no further attention to him, and +that somebody else was now the object of her sarcasms, twirled his cane +like a drum-major, and laughed aloud, swaying from side to side as if he +were on a tight-rope.</p> + +<p>"And then," continued Bastringuette, rearranging her bouquets, "why +should you say that Sans-Cravate is a ne'er-do-well? What has he ever +done to be called that? because he's a bit noisy and quick-tempered and +quarrelsome? because he gets a little tight, now and then? A great +crime, that! That's what you call doing wrong! A man works, then enjoys +himself—is that any more than fair? And all the fine things he's +done—no one ever speaks of them, because he don't crow about 'em +himself!"</p> + +<p>"Oho! so Monsieur Sans-Cravate does fine things, does he?" sneered +Célestin. "I've never read of any of them in the newspapers."</p> + +<p>"The newspapers! they're great authority! Run by people who lie from New +Year's Day to Saint-Sylvestre, and make up a lot of stories without any +head or tail,<a name="vol_3_page_023" id="vol_3_page_023"></a> that would drive you crazy if you believed 'em all. +That's what happened to my poor mother. She didn't know any better than +to stuff her head full of what a lot of papers said. She read 'em in the +concierge's room, at all the neighbors', and at the grocer's, and she +used to say to us every day: 'Things are going wrong, children; the +people are very discontented; there'll be an upset before long, for a +body won't be able to sneeze without having to pay a tax to the +government, and that will make it very expensive for people with colds +in their heads. Bread will go to thirty sous a loaf, and we shan't be +able to go out next winter without being murdered, and perhaps +worse.'—'Well, then, mother,' I'd say, 'we'll just stay in the house, +and eat potatoes if we can't get bread.'—But all that stuff turned her +brain, I tell you; she died in six months; and the doctor himself said: +'Your mother died of indigestion caused by <i>canards</i> [ducks],' and the +nonsense they stuff the newspapers with is canards. But here I am +chattering like a magpie, and that don't sell my flowers."</p> + +<p>"Here," said Albert, handing the girl a five-franc piece, "this is for +the bunch of violets, which I will keep; for it wouldn't be fair to have +made you talk all this time for nothing."</p> + +<p>"Ah! thanks, my little darling! you're a nice boy, you are; that makes +up for some of those who ain't!"</p> + +<p>And Bastringuette went her way along the boulevard, crying:</p> + +<p>"Buy flowers, messieurs and mesdames! buy some pretty violets! The +spring has come; buy flowers for your ladies!"</p> + +<p>"She's no fool," said Albert, looking after her as she walked away; "she +is very amusing, and quick at repartee."<a name="vol_3_page_024" id="vol_3_page_024"></a></p> + +<p>"That is to say," rejoined Célestin, "she is one of those people who say +whatever comes into their head; and as there may happen to be an +occasional witty remark in the midst of a mass of nonsense, it's the +fashion to say that such people are very bright. That girl is +exceedingly impertinent, and that's the extent of her wit, in my +opinion."</p> + +<p>"Messieurs," said Albert, "our meeting with Bastringuette interrupted +our conversation, which was very interesting, however. We were speaking +of Madame Plays, and I proposed to turn over to one of you my +appointment for this evening. Are there no takers?"</p> + +<p>"Do you make that proposition seriously?" said young Tobie Pigeonnier, +patting the gold head of his cane.</p> + +<p>"Most seriously, I assure you! I have never been in love with Madame +Plays; I paid court to her, purely as a joke, to play a trick on +Saint-Clair; but my one desire now is to break with my fair conquest."</p> + +<p>"Really, Madame Plays is very attractive!" rejoined Monsieur Tobie, +throwing away the end of his cigar; "she's a very fine woman, her face +is extremely pretty; and then, you see, I have a penchant for plump +women."</p> + +<p>"In that case, you would be served to your taste," said Célestin.</p> + +<p>"But to take your place at a rendezvous; how the devil can that be +arranged?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing easier," said Albert. "I am to be at the flower market on +Boulevard de la Madeleine—near the church, you know—at half-past eight +this evening."</p> + +<p>"I know the place very well; I often walk there on market days. Some +very distinguished women come there—women in carriages; I have noticed +that the flowers were only a pretext, and that they came there for other +things than orange blossoms and camellias."<a name="vol_3_page_025" id="vol_3_page_025"></a></p> + +<p>"Very good; Madame Plays will be there. I will give you a little note +for her, in which I will say that some unexpected business may detain me +a little while, but that I send her one of my friends, whose discretion +is unquestionable, and who will escort her to a place where I will join +her as soon as I possibly can. With that note, you will go to the +rendezvous in my place, you will hand the note to Madame Plays, and take +her where you choose, pretending that it is a place selected by me, and +that you are to stay with her, for company, until I come. I fail to +appear, the lady is furious with me, and you console her. Faith! it +seems to me that that will go of itself."</p> + +<p>"It's an intrigue all cut and dried for you," said Célestin.</p> + +<p>Tobie shook his head; the scheme evidently pleased him, but he seemed to +feel that it required reflection.</p> + +<p>"Do you think Madame Plays will accept my escort?" he asked; "won't she +be angry when she sees that you have let me into the secret of your +intrigue with her?"</p> + +<p>"Don't be alarmed, my dear Tobie; I know the person I am sending you to; +of course, I wouldn't do this with all women; but I know Madame Plays; +she's a jade who snaps her fingers at what people may say, and is proud +of her conquests. The fair Herminie is almost a man in petticoats."</p> + +<p>"The devil! I hope that that is true only with respect to her moral +qualities."</p> + +<p>"Never fear; physically, she is superbly feminine. Her husband pays no +sort of heed to what she does. Indeed, she leads him by the nose. If she +should tell him that the obelisk of Luxor had made her a mother, he +would believe it, or would pretend to; if she takes a fancy to you, the +affair is done."<a name="vol_3_page_026" id="vol_3_page_026"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh! in that case, I have some chance of success. I accept; faith! yes, +I accept; I will try the experiment; he who sows, reaps. Sapristi! no +one can deny that we are sad rakes; I have several mistresses already, +but the fair Plays tempts me."</p> + +<p>"I give you my word that she is a very agreeable woman—pretty face, +well built, solid as a rock! in short, everything that can tempt an +amateur. If I had nothing else in my head just now, I would not have +left her so quickly.—So it's a bargain. Now, I must give you the note +you are to hand her. It is exactly like giving a letter of +recommendation."</p> + +<p>Little Tobie was enchanted; he laughed aloud, he walked with a swagger, +and twirled his cane; in the extravagance of his delight, he seemed +disposed to leap and turn somersaults on the boulevard; so that Célestin +said to him:</p> + +<p>"I say, young Pigeonnier, just calm down a bit; anyone would think, to +see your insane joy, that you had never had a love affair."</p> + +<p>"Oho! I have no lack of them, I assure you; I have my choice every day; +but this will be such an amusing experience! Ha! ha! ha! to take another +man's place! ha! ha! it is delicious!"</p> + +<p>"There is nothing commoner than that; it's an old opéra-comique idea. +Now, messieurs, I propose that we dine together. We have begun the day +well, we must finish it as well. We will dine at the Maison-Dorée. +Mouillot and Balivan will dine with us; they are two good fellows, as +you know, and we shall find them at the Passage des Panoramas at +half-past five; I have an appointment with them. Tobie does not meet his +charmer until eight; so that he will have plenty of time to dine.<a name="vol_3_page_027" id="vol_3_page_027"></a> Then +we will have a little game of bouillotte at the restaurant, and Tobie +will come back and tell us the result of his adventure."</p> + +<p>"Good! I agree!" cried Albert; "especially as I have had hard luck +lately at bouillotte. That Mouillot is a lucky devil; he always wins, +and he owes me a terrible revenge.—Well, Tobie, doesn't the plan suit +you? You often say: 'We must dine together, and have a little spree;' +but when we try to fix a day, you never can. Here is a good chance, it +seems to me. My dear fellow, if you want to succeed with Madame Plays, I +warn you that you must act a little cavalierly."</p> + +<p>Tobie seemed to hesitate for a moment, but at last he struck the ground +with his cane and cried:</p> + +<p>"Well, I accept! yes, let us dine together, and make the day complete! +feasting! cards! women! that's my idea of life! Ah! what libertines we +are!"</p> + +<p>"Now, messieurs," said Albert, "we will step into the café on Passage de +l'Opéra, and I will write the note for Madame Plays; and I have another +letter to write and send off before dinner."</p> + +<p>"And so have I," said Célestin.</p> + +<p>"And I," said Tobie; "I have an important errand to be done."</p> + +<p>"Let us go, then."</p> + +<p>The three young men entered the café at the corner of the boulevard and +the Passage de l'Opéra, and ordered writing materials, together with +three glasses of madeira. Each of the three wrote very busily. Albert +let his pen run over the paper, but it seemed not to travel fast enough +to express the thoughts which thronged the mind of him who guided it. +Monsieur Célestin de Valnoir wrote more slowly, but, from the expression +of his<a name="vol_3_page_028" id="vol_3_page_028"></a> face, it was evident that he was carefully considering his +words. As for Tobie Pigeonnier, he wrote the least rapidly of the three, +either because his ideas did not come readily, or because his subject +was a difficult one to treat; he scratched his forehead, looked up at +the ceiling, wrote two words, stopped, ran his hand through his hair, +and began again; his letter caused him much toil, but he did not confine +himself to a single one; after sealing the first, he at once began +another. Albert and Célestin, who had finished theirs long before, said +to him:</p> + +<p>"Well, Pigeonnier, how many letters are you writing? will this be a long +one?"</p> + +<p>"One moment, messieurs; let me finish this one, I beg; it is very +important. You see, in order to dine with you, I have to miss two most +seductive appointments. The poor little women! they will be in despair, +but, at all events, I shall not keep them waiting for me in the cold. +Just a word of love, and I shall have finished."</p> + +<p>"Parbleu! that's not hard to find. Put <i>yours for life</i>, and let it go +at that."</p> + +<p>"That is too common; I am going to write something different."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Tobie finished his correspondence at last. Albert paid the +waiter, and the three young men rose and left the café.</p> + +<p>"The next thing is to send my letters," said Tobie.</p> + +<p>"Oh! I have my regular messenger—Sans-Cravate," said Albert; "he is +always at the corner of Rue du Helder, close by; let us go there."</p> + +<p>"For my part," said Célestin, "I employ his comrade, Jean Ficelle; he's +a very intelligent fellow. There's a third one, whose name is Paul, I +think, who stands with them; he will do Tobie's errand."<a name="vol_3_page_029" id="vol_3_page_029"></a></p> + +<p>"All right, messieurs," said Pigeonnier. "Let us go and find our +messengers. By the way—how about my letter for the fair Herminie?"</p> + +<p>"Faith! I forgot to write it; but we have time enough, I'll write it at +the restaurant; we must hurry, it's five o'clock now."</p> + +<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III<br /><br /> +<small>THE MESSENGERS</small></h2> + +<p>On Rue du Helder, near the boulevard, in front of a handsome house, +three street messengers had their regular stand.</p> + +<p>On the afternoon of which we are writing, all three were at their post. +One lay at full length on his <i>crochets</i>, which he had placed on the +ground, horizontally, in such wise as to form a sort of cot-bed; it was +rather narrow, but its occupant had become so accustomed to it that he +had no difficulty in maintaining his place, and never fell over the +side.</p> + +<p>Another was sitting on a stone bench against the house. He was smoking a +pipe, and had in his hands a disgustingly greasy and dirty pack of +cards, with which he was apparently practising the false cut and divers +other tricks of that sort.</p> + +<p>The third messenger was on his feet, leaning against the wall, with his +eyes fixed on the topmost floor of a high building almost opposite.</p> + +<p>The man lying on the <i>crochets</i> seemed to be in the prime of life; he +was of medium height, but the breadth<a name="vol_3_page_030" id="vol_3_page_030"></a> of his shoulders and the size of +the muscles in his sinewy limbs pointed him out as a man with whom it +would be dangerous to quarrel. His face was frank and good-humored; his +small, light blue eyes expressed recklessness and merriment; his nose +was rather large, and sometimes red at the end; his full lips denoted a +kindly and obliging disposition; and his abundant light hair, which blew +about at the pleasure of the wind, surmounted a high forehead, wherein +the brain must have had ample room to exercise its faculties.</p> + +<p>He was dressed like most messengers,—a jacket and loose trousers; but +he wore no neckerchief; his shirt, fastened by a button, disclosed a +neck much whiter than one would have supposed from the color of his +hands and face. The invariable habit of wearing nothing about his neck +at any season of the year, even when the cold was most severe, was +responsible for the sobriquet of <i>Sans-Cravate</i>, which had come to be +the only name by which the messenger was known to the persons who +employed him, and even to most of his friends.</p> + +<p>The person seated on the stone bench, who seemed intent upon his cards, +was short, and heavily pock-marked; his hair was dark brown and very +thick, and hung low over a narrow forehead; the man's face indicated +intelligence and cunning, and the evil expression of his gray eyes +seemed to forbid the judgment we are accustomed to form of a person with +a low forehead. A small nose, much too retroussé, tightly closed lips, +and a protruding chin, made of Monsieur Jean Ficelle a decidedly ugly +individual, and one who would by no means inspire the confidence which +we like to feel in a messenger, unless his unusual mobility of feature +were successful in deceiving those who tried to read his thoughts.<a name="vol_3_page_031" id="vol_3_page_031"></a></p> + +<p>The third messenger, who stood against the wall, with his eyes +constantly fixed on the attics of the opposite house, was a tall, +slender young man of graceful figure; although he also wore loose +trousers and a jacket, there was in his bearing an indefinable +something, which, while perhaps it could not be called refinement, +distinguished it from the vulgar slouchiness of his companions; and as, +generally speaking, a person's face almost always fulfils the promise of +his bearing, so this young man, whose features were regular and +attractive, had not the usual expression of those of his calling. A +high, well-shaped forehead; beautiful black hair, brushed aside with a +lack of coquetry that was not without charm; brown eyes, with a tender +and melancholy expression; a mouth of an ordinary type, supplied with +handsome teeth; an oval face, almost always pale, but indicative of a +delicate constitution rather than of ill health—such was that one of +the three messengers who was known as Paul, and who, in truth, seemed +but ill adapted for his trade.</p> + +<p>"If Bastringuette hasn't sold her violets, I shall have a chance to sup +in my mind's eye to-day. Business is dull, but the appetite keeps right +along. <i>Crédié!</i> what a lot of rooms there are to let in my belly! and +unfurnished lodgings in my stomach! How the devil am I to furnish it +all?</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"'Dip your bread, Marie, dip your bread,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .6em;">Dip your bread in clear water!'</span></td></tr> +</table> + +<p>We'll sing that song for our supper, and we shan't be troubled with +indigestion. But Bastringuette don't like that tune—nor do I, for that +matter."</p> + +<p>It was Sans-Cravate who made these reflections aloud, as he turned over +on his <i>crochets</i>. After a moment's silence, he continued:<a name="vol_3_page_032" id="vol_3_page_032"></a></p> + +<p>"If a fellow hadn't his cutty to comfort him when his pocket's empty, +how he would curse his destiny! Bah! what's the odds! Am I going to have +an attack of the dismals? am I going to join the ranks of the +snivellers? Never! It don't bring in a sou to be sad; and then, as +another song says, which I like much better:</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"'Courage! courage!</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .6em;">One's friends are always by!'</span></td></tr> +</table> + +<p>"Isn't that so, boys? Well! don't all answer at once; I shouldn't know +you if you did."</p> + +<p>As he spoke, Sans-Cravate turned and looked at his comrades. He shrugged +his shoulders when he saw Jean Ficelle playing with his cards, and +muttered:</p> + +<p>"The deuce! there's Jean Ficelle practising his tricks! Cards are his +vocation. But damn me if I ever play piquet with you again! Infernal +Ficelle!<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> you are too well named."</p> + +<p>The person addressed paid no attention, he was so engrossed by his +cards. Thereupon Sans-Cravate turned to Paul and said, with a smile:</p> + +<p>"Ah! this is a bird of another color. 'Tis love, love, love, that makes +the world go round! And here's a young spark as has laid in a good stock +of it. Well, Paul, even if you give yourself a stiff neck standing like +that, with your head in the air, you won't succeed in opening the +windows on the fourth floor, if Mademoiselle Dumanchon, the dressmaker, +wants 'em to stay shut. Mademoiselle Dumanchon don't let her girls go +out to walk the streets; indeed, she has plenty of work, because, they +say, she knows her business. She makes dresses that give a bust to women +without any, and that hide the<a name="vol_3_page_033" id="vol_3_page_033"></a> hips of those who have too much. That's +genuine talent! I am surprised that she lives on the fourth floor; to be +sure, lodgings in this quarter are pretty high.—Come, Paul, tell me, +haven't you seen your little girl to-day?"</p> + +<p>The young messenger who was looking in the air turned to Sans-Cravate +and replied:</p> + +<p>"My little girl? What do you mean? I don't understand you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well! if we're going to play the stupid, if we have secrets from +our friends—that's a different matter, and you'd better say so. Do you +suppose I don't know that you're in love with one of the dressmaker's +apprentices, a pretty little thing named Elina, who takes short, quick +steps when she passes us, which doesn't prevent her casting a sly glance +in your direction?"</p> + +<p>"Really, Sans-Cravate! do you think she looks at me when she passes?"</p> + +<p>"You don't see her yourself, I suppose, you fox?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I assure you, Sans-Cravate, that I have never said a word to that +young woman which could make her suspect that I dare to think of her. I +think her very pretty, that is true; and then, she is so pleasant and so +courteous when she gives me an errand to do! There are so many people +who treat us messengers as if we were brutes or savages!"</p> + +<p>"When anybody takes that tone with me, I pay him back in his own coin. +If people are decent, I am amiable; if they're insolent, then I'm +brutal! and be damned to 'em!"</p> + +<p>"But when one is obliged to work for his living, he must work for +everybody."</p> + +<p>"Not at all! I choose my patrons. Indeed, I very often fold my arms."<a name="vol_3_page_034" id="vol_3_page_034"></a></p> + +<p>"Several times Mademoiselle Elina has taken me with her to carry boxes, +and she always talks to me so kindly—— Ah! it makes me forget that I +am only a poor messenger."</p> + +<p>"In short, you are in love with the girl; that's the whole story."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! Sans-Cravate, you're mistaken; and, anyway, what good would it +do me to love that charming creature? Can a man of my class, one of the +common people, presume to raise his eyes to someone who will not come +down to his level?"</p> + +<p>"Look you, a man always presumes, and does his reasoning afterward. And +then, it don't seem to me that a dressmaker's apprentice is such a very +great personage; and, even if you are a messenger, aren't you as good a +man as another? If a duchess would have me, I'd adore her, duchess and +all.—Great God! if Bastringuette should hear me, she'd make me go +without tobacco."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Paul, with a sigh, "a messenger's trade requires that he be +an honest man. I don't blush for my calling, I assure you. And yet, +there was a time when I was justified in hoping that I might occupy a +higher station. A most excellent man, happening to see me, when I was +ten years old, in the charitable institution where I was brought up, +took a fancy to me and offered to take charge of me, as he needed +someone to do errands for him. Monsieur Desroches was a respectable +tradesman, and his proposition was thankfully accepted. I left that +refuge of the unfortunate, where I had passed my childhood, and went to +live with my new patron, in the Marais. As he was satisfied with the +zeal and promptitude with which I did the errands he gave me to do, +Monsieur Desroches had me taught to read and write<a name="vol_3_page_035" id="vol_3_page_035"></a> and cipher, and +employed me in his office; and every day he would give me a friendly tap +on the shoulder, and say: 'You're doing well, Paul; keep on, and you'll +make your way.'"</p> + +<p>"Good! He was what I call a fine old cove! And that's how it is that you +know so much, and that you're so much better set up than the rest of us. +Well, why didn't you stay with that fine old fellow? I suppose you +played some prank or other. <i>Dame!</i> boys will be boys!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! not that at all! I would never have left good Monsieur +Desroches. But after I had lived with him eight years, he and his wife +treating me like their own child, my benefactor was utterly ruined by a +bad failure; and the poor man died of grief, because he was compelled to +ask for time to pay his notes."</p> + +<p>"Sapristi! you ought to have kept some of that man's seed. His kind are +not common in the market."</p> + +<p>"I was eighteen years old at that time. I tried to find a place, to get +into some business house; but I couldn't find anything. However, I had +to earn money, for one must live; so I soon made up my mind: I bought a +pair of <i>crochets</i> and started in as a messenger."</p> + +<p>"And you did well. There is no foolish trade, as one of the old +troubadours said! But how did you happen to come into this quarter +instead of staying in the Marais, where you were known?"</p> + +<p>"That was just the reason. People there had seen me every day, +dressed—I might almost say, fashionably, and I didn't care to have them +see me in this jacket. For, I tell you, Sans-Cravate, although you may +set your mind on making the best of it, there are times when you can't +help remembering the past."<a name="vol_3_page_036" id="vol_3_page_036"></a></p> + +<p>"I understand your feeling, especially as I myself—— Mine is another +kind; but the idea's the same. I mean that I sometimes think of my +father, and my poor mother, and my sister Adeline, or Liline, as I call +her—such a pretty creature she is. Ah! I might have stayed with them +all, in our little village in Auvergne. My father often said to me: +'Stay with us, Étienne (they didn't call me <i>Sans-Cravate</i> there), stay +with us and take care of my little farm. We have enough to live on. What +are you going to do in Paris?'—But, damnation! my feet itched; I +couldn't stay still. I said to my father: 'Let me go; I mean to make my +fortune, and bring back a big marriage portion for Liline.'—So he let +me go, and it's amazing how I pile up the money! I never have a sou! I +tell you, Paul, when I think of that, I am ashamed of myself; I would +give myself a good thrashing, if I could."</p> + +<p>"Don't get excited, my dear Sans-Cravate; if your father has enough to +live on, of course he doesn't count on you."</p> + +<p>"I went to see them two years and a half ago; I knew it would please +father, and I myself was glad enough to see 'em all and give 'em a kiss. +I had succeeded in saving thirty francs, and I said to myself: 'With +thirty francs and a good stick, I can walk home as comfortably as you +please.' So I started; but Jean Ficelle started with me, and the second +day my money was all gone. However, I got there after a while. I saw my +sister, who was fifteen then—I am six years older than she is; she is +almighty pretty, and such fine manners and language! There's a Madame de +Clermont, who has taken a fancy to her and often sends for her to go and +visit her. Then my poor father is left all alone in the village. But he +says: 'I can't<a name="vol_3_page_037" id="vol_3_page_037"></a> interfere with what that lady chooses to do for my +child's good.'—He hoped I would stay with him, but I couldn't. When a +man has had a taste of this rascally Paris, can he make up his mind to +live in a village?—I said to my father: 'I am in a fair way to get +rich; I must go back to Paris, or else I shall miss my opportunity; I +will come back when I have money enough.'—And off I went; and when I +got here, my trousers were torn so that you could see my posterior; and +at the barrier, they thought I was trying to smuggle, and ran after me, +singing out: 'What are you hiding there?'—'I'm hiding nothing,' says I; +'on the contrary, I'm showing too much; collect a duty on it, if you +choose.'—And—— Well, you don't seem to be listening. So much for +talking to a lover; it's the same as talking to yourself."</p> + +<p>While Sans-Cravate was speaking, Paul had turned his eyes toward the +dressmaker's windows again, and seemed, in fact, to have ceased to +listen to his comrade. But at that moment the third messenger, who had +not spoken, uttered a grunt of satisfaction and jumped up from the +bench, crying:</p> + +<p>"I have it, I have done it; oh! I have it as neat as you please!"</p> + +<p>"What is it that you have, Jean Ficelle?" asked Sans-Cravate.</p> + +<p>The person addressed raised his head and replied, with a disdainful +glance at his comrades:</p> + +<p>"Oh! something that I can use to take greenhorns in."</p> + +<p>"Another new game, I'll bet; for you're a very devil of a gambler!"</p> + +<p>"Well, why not? Games of chance are tabooed in Paris, but the sharks and +blacklegs in good society find a way to play, all the same. They have +secret meetings,<a name="vol_3_page_038" id="vol_3_page_038"></a> where they can ruin themselves as nice as you please, +on the pretence of having a little dance."</p> + +<p>"How do you know?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I know everything. Well, then, why shouldn't the small fry, the +less select society, have the same chance? But they go about it more +openly. The men who run games of chance set them up in the open air, all +ready to cut stakes at sight of a policeman or a detective. You don't +know anything about it, you fellows; you are greenhorns. Just listen to +me a minute, for your instruction."</p> + +<p>"A nice kind of instruction we are likely to get from you, I fancy."</p> + +<p>"But it's always a help, even if it's only to keep you from being taken +in by sharpers.—Come, Sans-Cravate, come and sit down with me."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate concluded to take his seat on the stone bench, beside Jean +Ficelle, who continued, with the important air of one who considers +himself much more intelligent than those to whom he speaks:</p> + +<p>"Near the barriers, under the arches of the bridges, on the outer +boulevards, and in the neighborhood of the wine market, are the places +where you will usually find the men in blouses and plain caps who are +called <i>croupiers</i>, which means: men who run a game. In the summertime, +if you should go and look under the arches of the bridge over the canal +near Pont d'Austerlitz, you would see a number of games in full blast. +You see groups of men—first, the <i>croupiers</i> and their confederates +(for wherever there's games of chance, there's confederates); then, +peasants, countrymen, and workmen with their loaves under their arms; +these are the pigeons, who let themselves be plucked by the bait of a +possible gain."<a name="vol_3_page_039" id="vol_3_page_039"></a></p> + +<p>"What a lot this Jean Ficelle knows!—You seem to have made a study of +it!"</p> + +<p>"In my own interest, in order not to be a pigeon! They play <i>biribi</i>, +<i>table-basse</i>, <i>jarretières</i>, <i>trois noix</i>, and sometimes <i>loto</i>; but +the first three are played most. The game of <i>jarretières</i>, you know, +consists in sticking a pin into the edge of a piece of cloth. The man +who runs the game always uses the skirt of his frock-coat. If I had one +on, I'd show you how it's done. He lifts up one corner, presses it very +tight, and holds it out to you in such a way that to stick a pin into +the edge seems to be the simplest thing in the world."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"But not much; because the <i>croupier</i>, when he picks up the hem of his +coat, is smart enough to turn it under; so that you always stick your +pin into the middle of the cloth when you think you're sticking it into +the edge."</p> + +<p>"I'd stick it into his ugly mug!—And <i>table-basse</i>, what's that?"</p> + +<p>"You see a little table with a lot of little, numbered holes. They hand +you a dicebox, with some balls; you throw the balls on the table at +random, and they roll into the holes; then they add up the numbers and +give you the prize corresponding to the total. The big prizes are never +won; you never get the silver watch, the piece of plate, or the drinking +cup, that they show to entice you; but a flint and steel, or a +save-all—that's all your twenty sous ever wins."</p> + +<p>"Very pretty, indeed! a choice lot they must be! But what did you mean +just now when you sung out: 'I've got it! I know how it's done!'"</p> + +<p>"Oh! that's the most popular of all the games—<i>biribi</i>."</p> + +<p>"<i>Biribi?</i>"<a name="vol_3_page_040" id="vol_3_page_040"></a></p> + +<p>"I'll show you that; you play it with just three cards, see; and one of +'em's <i>biribi</i>. Look, the ace of hearts! Now, to win, all you have to do +is guess where <i>biribi</i> is. But the <i>croupier's</i> skill consists in +always showing you the under card, and that is always <i>biribi</i>; then he +moves his cards this way and that, and you think you can follow it with +your eyes. Like this: now, follow the ace of hearts, follow it +carefully; do you know which of the three it is now?"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate, who had kept his eyes on the cards, placed his hand on one +of them, saying:</p> + +<p>"This is the ace of hearts."</p> + +<p>"How much do you bet?"</p> + +<p>"A glass of beer."</p> + +<p>"Done!"</p> + +<p>Jean Ficelle turned the card and showed his wondering comrade that it +was not <i>biribi</i>.</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate was stupefied. Jean Ficelle repeated the trick twice, and +won two more glasses of beer.</p> + +<p>"Are you a sorcerer?" cried the other.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! But you don't see that, when I move the cards about, I always +throw the one that's on top, although I make believe to throw the one on +the bottom. That's how they gull the peasant, who thinks he hasn't taken +his eyes off <i>biribi</i>. But if by any chance the pigeon guesses right, +just when he's going to put his hand on the card which is really +<i>biribi</i>, a confederate, who is always on hand, says to him: 'Not that +one, my man; the other one, to the left. I am sure of it, and, to prove +it, I'll bet a hundred sous.' The peasant is persuaded by the +confederate's confidence, he takes up the card on which the other has +bet five francs, and he is <i>smoked</i>.—I say there, you man of sighs, +come and play <i>biribi</i> with us a while."<a name="vol_3_page_041" id="vol_3_page_041"></a></p> + +<p>Paul glanced at the cards and shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I don't care for card playing," he said.</p> + +<p>"We must kill time, especially when we've nothing to do. Come and play +for a glass of beer—that won't ruin you."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to play."</p> + +<p>"Humph! what a poor cuss that fellow is!" said Jean Ficelle, turning +back to Sans-Cravate. "He'll never spend a sou with his friends. I don't +call that being a man, myself."</p> + +<p>"Paul is more sensible, wiser, than we are; he saves his money and he +does well."</p> + +<p>"Saves his money—hum! I don't feel so sure what he does with his money; +he gets mighty little good out of it. He's pale as an egg, and his +jacket's all patched at the elbows. <i>Dame!</i> perhaps he spends it all to +seduce his girl. Women aren't to be caught with nothing but sighs. They +like to have money spent on 'em—dressmakers, especially. They say that +they have to have dinners and theatre tickets and jewelry. Little Elina +probably spends it all for him. She has the look of a sly little +coquette——"</p> + +<p>On hearing Elina's name, Paul ran up to Jean Ficelle, seized his left +arm, and shook it roughly.</p> + +<p>"What's that you say?" he exclaimed. "You dare to talk about +Mademoiselle Elina! If I am not mistaken, you had the effrontery to make +remarks about that young lady! Be careful, Jean! I am not ill-tempered; +but if you should be unlucky enough to insult her, why, I would stamp on +you as I do on these cards!"</p> + +<p>"Let alone of me, I say! Will you let alone of me? Stupid fool—to walk +on my cards!"</p> + +<p>"A terrible calamity! A fine business for a messenger, isn't it? to +learn thieves' and blacklegs' tricks, to study<a name="vol_3_page_042" id="vol_3_page_042"></a> ways of cheating other +people! Instead of handling cards so skilfully, you would do much better +to mend your <i>crochets</i> and your saw. But you prefer to play cards!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, ça! isn't it about time for the fellow to stop? What airs he puts +on! and why, I should like to know! A miserable foundling, with no +father nor mother—and he undertakes to preach to other people! Go and +hunt up your parents—that would be a better business for you."</p> + +<p>Paul lowered his eyes at the word <i>foundling</i>, and his face assumed an +expression of profound sadness; he released his hold on Jean's arm, and, +stepping back to the wall, stood leaning against it without speaking a +word.</p> + +<p>But Sans-Cravate, who knew that nothing wounded Paul so deeply as to be +reminded that he had been abandoned by his parents, and who saw the +sorrowful expression of his face, rose abruptly and shook his clenched +fist under Jean Ficelle's nose, saying:</p> + +<p>"You're a miserable cur! and if your nose wasn't so turned-up already +that I can see your brain, I'd turn it up a little more for you. You +know that the poor fellow is unhappy because he knows nothing about his +family; but it isn't any crime, and it's better to have no family at all +than to come of low-lived stock! But it hurts him when anyone speaks of +it; and you remind him of it on purpose! It was a mean, dirty trick! I +have a good mind to thrash you. Come, try a little bout with me; I'll +give you a good dust bath, to cool you off."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate had already seized Jean about the waist; but Paul hastened +to intervene, and forced Sans-Cravate to release his hold.<a name="vol_3_page_043" id="vol_3_page_043"></a></p> + +<p>"I don't want you to fight my battles," he said. "When I choose to teach +Jean a lesson, I can do it myself all right. A man is always strong when +he is not afraid. When he called me a foundling, he said no more than +the truth, and I have no right to thrash him for that. But let him +beware how he insults Mademoiselle Elina, or makes such remarks as he +made just now about dressmakers—for then he would have a chance to see +what my arm weighs."</p> + +<p>Jean Ficelle eyed Paul contemptuously, and muttered, with a shrug:</p> + +<p>"Yes, he's about as strong as a flea; he can't carry a commode +upstairs!"</p> + +<p>But a glance from Sans-Cravate made him change his tone on the instant, +and he added, with an affectation of good humor:</p> + +<p>"But why does he throw my cards on the ground? if it amuses me to play +<i>biribi</i>, ain't I at liberty to do it? <i>Vive la charte!</i> When all's said +and done, Sans-Cravate, you owe me three glasses of beer; are you going +to pay them?"</p> + +<p>"With what, I wonder? I wouldn't ask anything better than to rinse my +gullet, for I'm dried up with thirst; but I haven't a <i>monaco</i>!"</p> + +<p>Thereupon Jean Ficelle went up to Sans-Cravate, and whispered in his +ear, with a glance at Paul:</p> + +<p>"Borrow a little tin of him; you're a friend of his, and friends always +lend to each other. If I had any, it would be at your service; but I'm +as strapped as you are."</p> + +<p>"Paul has no more than the rest of us," replied Sans-Cravate, in an +undertone; "I saw him breakfasting this morning on an old dry crust and +a glass of cocoa! When a man eats a meal like that, it means that he +ain't lined with gold."<a name="vol_3_page_044" id="vol_3_page_044"></a></p> + +<p>"But what does he do with his money, then? for he earns more than we do; +his luck is indecent. As all the women of the quarter think he's +good-looking, they always choose him to do their errands; the windfalls +pass us by, and are all for him. So he must have money, for he never +spends any; he always refuses to play cards, or drink, or go to the wine +shop. I tell you again, he's a mean cuss, who saves up his money, like +the miser he is!"</p> + +<p>"There you go again! Jean Ficelle, you're spoiling for a thrashing. Paul +is my friend, and I like him; let him do what he pleases with his money, +it's none of our business. One thing I'm sure of is that he's a fine +fellow, for I saw him one evening run after a gentleman and give him +back a twenty-franc piece he'd given him by mistake for twenty sous. I'm +not sure you'd do as much, Biribi."</p> + +<p>"Bah! who knows! You're stuck on that greenhorn; and yet, if I chose to +be mean, I could tell you some things about him that would open your +eyes; but you see things crooked——"</p> + +<p>"What are you talking about? More nonsense, I'll bet."</p> + +<p>Jean Ficelle pretended to hesitate and to reflect as to whether he +should say anything more, but at that moment three young men turned into +Rue du Helder from the boulevard and walked toward the messengers.</p> + +<p>"Ah! here come customers!" cried Sans-Cravate; "I shall have some supper +to-night!"<a name="vol_3_page_045" id="vol_3_page_045"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV<br /><br /> +<small>DIVERS COMMISSIONS</small></h2> + +<p>Albert, Célestin, and Tobie walked toward the messengers, while +Sans-Cravate went forward to meet Albert, who employed him regularly and +always paid him handsomely; so that the young Auvergnat felt a strong +liking for the young man, whose free and easy manners and fascinating +air pleased him mightily.</p> + +<p>"There's a young man who knows what's what, who amuses himself and +enjoys life!" he would exclaim. "<i>Crédié!</i> if I had his figure and his +money, that's the kind of a life I'd like to lead! Three or four +mistresses at once! that must be rather pleasant and amusing! a fellow +would have no time to be bored."</p> + +<p>So it was that Sans-Cravate listened with a smile on his lips and with +interest and attention to what Albert said after leading him aside:</p> + +<p>"Take this letter and carry it to Madame Baldimer, Rue Neuve-Vivienne; +the address is on the envelope. I think that she is not at home; but if +by any chance she is, you will ask for an answer; if not, go there +again, about eight o'clock, to get the answer; and bring it to me at the +Maison-Dorée restaurant, where I shall be at that time."</p> + +<p>"Very good, monsieur. By the way, can I go up to the lady's apartment?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes. You need take no precautions; there's no father, or husband, +or aunt. And, Sans-Cravate, go to<a name="vol_3_page_046" id="vol_3_page_046"></a> my house also, on Rue Caumartin, and +ask the concierge if there are any letters for me; if there are, he'll +give them to you, for he knows you; and you will bring them to me at the +same place."</p> + +<p>"Very good, monsieur; I understand."</p> + +<p>Albert placed a five-franc piece in Sans-Cravate's hand, and left him.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Célestin de Valnoir had taken Jean Ficelle, who was his +favorite messenger, aside and handed him a letter, saying in a very low +tone, after looking about to make sure that nobody could hear:</p> + +<p>"Carry this note to Madame Baldimer—the lady to whose house I have sent +you several times."</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur, I know; I will go upstairs, as usual, and ask for +Mamzelle Rosa, the lady's-maid, saying that I come from you."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. And if Madame Baldimer is not at home, Rosa will tell you +where you can find her; go there, and bring me the lady's answer at the +Maison-Dorée restaurant, where I shall dine. I will speak to the waiter, +and he will let me know when you arrive."</p> + +<p>"Very good, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"By the way, it is possible that the gentleman who has just employed +your comrade Sans-Cravate may be sending him also to Madame Baldimer's. +As he must not know that I am sending you there, be prudent; let +Sans-Cravate go first, and don't go in until he has come out."</p> + +<p>"Never fear; I didn't get the sobriquet of Ficelle for nothing. He shall +not know where I am going."</p> + +<p>"Very well."</p> + +<p>Célestin turned his back on the messenger, and joined Albert, who had +returned to the boulevard.<a name="vol_3_page_047" id="vol_3_page_047"></a></p> + +<p>Tobie Pigeonnier, meanwhile, had led Paul under a porte cochère, and +there, after making sure that he was so far away from his two friends +that they could not hear him, he said to the messenger:</p> + +<p>"My boy, are you clever, faithful, and intelligent?"</p> + +<p>Paul gazed in surprise at the little fellow who asked him the question +with an air of mystery, as if he were about to admit him to the secret +of a conspiracy.</p> + +<p>"As to being faithful, monsieur," he replied, "it is my duty; I should +be doubly guilty in my calling, if I betrayed the confidence of those +who are good enough to employ me. At all events, monsieur, I am well +known in the quarter, and you can inquire about me. As to my cleverness +and intelligence, I have, as a general rule, had no difficulty in +carrying out my instructions."</p> + +<p>"Good, very good. I see that you are not too dull; you are the man for +me, for I detest dull-witted people. Listen to me with the closest +attention; stay—let us go a little farther; I have reasons for not +wanting those gentlemen to hear what I have to say to you. There—let us +stop in this corner. You will go—— By the way, what is your name?"</p> + +<p>"Paul, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Paul; very good. You will go to the Temple, Paul, to the Temple +Market—you know—where they sell clothing and linen for both sexes, and +footwear too."</p> + +<p>"I know the place, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"You will go into the market, near the rotunda, where the stalls +are,—they are called <i>ayons</i>,—to the part occupied by the milliners."</p> + +<p>"Does monsieur mean the dealers in old hats?"</p> + +<p>"Old hats!—why, they sell new ones too, and wreaths of flowers, almost +new, and ladies' caps—in fact, all the<a name="vol_3_page_048" id="vol_3_page_048"></a> pretty gewgaws that women +always dote on. You will ask for Madame Abraham—she is well known—she +is one of the largest dealers in the place."</p> + +<p>"Madame Abraham; very well, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"You will hand her this letter. Do you know how to read?"</p> + +<p>Paul could not restrain a faint smile as he replied:</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, monsieur; very well."</p> + +<p>"So much the better; I am very glad, because, in that case, you won't +make any blunder."</p> + +<p>But as he was not fully convinced that the messenger had told him the +truth, Monsieur Tobie held up the letter he was about to give him, and +said:</p> + +<p>"What does that say?"</p> + +<p>"<i>To Madame Agar Abraham, wholesale milliner, Marché du Temple.</i>"</p> + +<p>"That's right, that's quite right; you read perfectly. You will give +this letter, then, to Madame Abraham, and she will hand you some money +for me; I have funds invested in her business. You will take the money, +and—and——"</p> + +<p>At that point, Tobie, seeing that a gentleman and lady were passing, +raised his voice almost to a shout, and threw his head back and his +chest forward:</p> + +<p>"You will bring it to me at the Maison-Dorée, where I dine to-night. I +dine at the Maison-Dorée; it is my favorite restaurant. You will ask the +waiter for Monsieur Tobie Pigeonnier. I am very well known at the +Maison-Dorée."</p> + +<p>"I understand, monsieur."</p> + +<p>The people who were passing being out of earshot, the stout youth +continued in an undertone:</p> + +<p>"One moment, Paul; that is not all. If by any chance—for we must +provide for everything—if Madame Abraham<a name="vol_3_page_049" id="vol_3_page_049"></a> should not give you any money +for me—merchants are sometimes a little short—if, I say, Madame +Abraham should give you nothing for me, then, and only then, you will go +to the house where I live, on Rue de la Ferme-des-Mathurins—the address +is on this other letter, and you know how to read. You will go there and +give this letter to my concierge, Madame Pluchonneau,—the name is on +the envelope,—and tell her you will wait for an answer. You may be +obliged to wait some time, for I have told my concierge to do an errand +for me. But you will wait in her lodge, she has a very fine lodge. Then +my concierge, when she returns, will hand you some money, which you will +bring to the Maison-Dorée."</p> + +<p>"Very good, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"You are sure that you understand, messenger? If you receive money from +Madame Abraham, who will doubtless hand you with it a memorandum of the +amount, then it will not be necessary to go to my house, and you will +bring back the letter for Madame Pluchonneau. But if you get nothing at +the Temple, then go to Rue de la Ferme-des-Mathurins."</p> + +<p>"I understand perfectly, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Off with you, young Paul! You can send word to me by the waiter; don't +give me my answer before those other gentlemen. Secrecy, above all +things!"</p> + +<p>"Very good, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Go! I will give you a handsome <i>pourboire.</i>"</p> + +<p>And Tobie Pigeonnier returned to the boulevard and joined his friends, +who shouted to him when he came in sight:</p> + +<p>"Come on! What a long while it takes you to send a message to your +charmers!"<a name="vol_3_page_050" id="vol_3_page_050"></a></p> + +<p>"Here I am, messieurs. Oh! a man has to show some consideration. Let us +be fickle, if you will, but we must not forget to be gallant; that is my +nature."</p> + +<p>While the young men walked away, the messengers came together again. +Sans-Cravate held up the five-franc piece he had received, crying:</p> + +<p>"Paid in advance! a cart-wheel! what do you think of that! There's a +generous young man for you! I would fight for him."</p> + +<p>"But you probably have got to go a long way for him," said Jean Ficelle, +with affected indifference.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! nothing at all. First to Rue Neuve-Vivienne—only two steps; +then to his house on Rue Caumartin, and from there to the Maison-Dorée. +It's all right in the quarter."</p> + +<p>Jean Ficelle's eyes twinkled when he learned that Sans-Cravate was going +to Rue Neuve-Vivienne, and he made haste to say:</p> + +<p>"I have got to go much farther than that—Faubourg Saint-Honoré—and I +ain't paid in advance."</p> + +<p>"And I, too," said Paul, placing his <i>crochets</i> behind a porte cochère, +"have got a long way to go, and I'm afraid it will take a long while."</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" asked Jean Ficelle.</p> + +<p>"The gentleman who employed me told me not to talk; so it doesn't seem +to me that I ought to tell where he sends me."</p> + +<p>"Bah! you sneak!" muttered Jean, with a shrug.</p> + +<p>"Well, my friends," said Sans-Cravate, as he donned his fur cap, "the +day ends well. I don't know whether you'll be paid as generously as me; +but, at all events, I'll treat; let's have supper together to-night at +my regular little wine shop on Rue Saint-Lazare. Does that hit you?"<a name="vol_3_page_051" id="vol_3_page_051"></a></p> + +<p>"It does me," replied Jean Ficelle; "we'll meet there to-night, then; +it's agreed."</p> + +<p>"I can't," said Paul; "I have business this evening; I must go to see a +certain person, a long way from here, and——"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Paul! I won't listen to such reasons as that; you can attend +to your business to-morrow. I want you to have supper with us. I've +invited you two or three times, and you always refuse. <i>Crédié!</i> if you +don't come to-night, I shall think you're proud, and afraid of lowering +yourself by sitting at the same table with me."</p> + +<p>"Proud! proud of what, for God's sake?" muttered Jean, in so low a tone +that Paul could not hear him. The latter hesitated a moment before +replying:</p> + +<p>"Oh! Sans-Cravate, you surely can't think that I am proud. Am I not a +messenger, like you?"</p> + +<p>"Very well, then; you'll come, that's settled. I must be off and do my +errands. By the way, friends, if one of you sees Bastringuette before I +do, just tell her where we sup. If we should feast without her, I should +be a dead man to-morrow."</p> + +<p>As he spoke, Sans-Cravate started off along the boulevard. Jean Ficelle +waited a short time, then took the same direction, muttering:</p> + +<p>"To be afraid that a woman will scold you, and not dare to treat +yourself without her! that must be pleasant, on my word! And he calls +himself a man! I call him a milksop. The real men aren't those who +strike the hardest—but the sly dogs who know how to make dupes."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Jean Ficelle had left the stand and Paul was about to follow +his example, after a parting glance at the<a name="vol_3_page_052" id="vol_3_page_052"></a> house in which the +dressmaker lived, when a young woman with fair hair, blue eyes, and +smiling red lips came out through the porte cochère, and, having nimbly +crossed the gutter, walked toward the young messenger. She wore a coarse +linen dress, and a black apron fastened about her waist by a silk cord; +on her head was a very simple cap, unadorned with flowers or ribbons; +but the simplicity of her costume did not prevent people from noticing +her and, in many cases, from turning to glance after her; for her face +was very pleasant to look upon, her figure perfectly proportioned, her +carriage graceful, her gait light and springy; in a word, there was in +her whole aspect that indefinable something which at once attracts and +captivates the eye: a fortunate gift of nature, which carries with it +all other gifts in the case of the women who possess it. I say <i>women</i>, +because, in general, the <i>something</i> in question applies to women rather +than to men. It is that indefinable something which compels us to submit +to the empire of two eyes which do not need to be very large or very +beautiful to lead us captive; it is enough if they have that +<i>something.</i> O ye who possess it, envy not the regular beauties, the +Greek or Roman profiles, the correct and faultlessly proportioned +features, of your rivals! If you are not of those women whom men admire, +you are of those whom they desire, and that is much better.</p> + +<p>When he saw the girl coming toward him, Paul stood as if rooted to the +spot; he could not go away. He quickly removed his cap, and at the same +time lowered his eyes with a timid air, as if he dared not presume to +salute the young dressmaker, but desired to manifest his respect for +her.</p> + +<p>But Elina stopped in front of him and said, with an amiable smile:<a name="vol_3_page_053" id="vol_3_page_053"></a></p> + +<p>"Good-evening, Monsieur Paul! I am very glad to find you."</p> + +<p>"Can I be of service to you in any way, mademoiselle? Pray speak; I am +at your disposition, day and night, whenever you choose. I am so happy +when you are good enough to employ me!"</p> + +<p>As he spoke, Paul raised his eyes until they rested on the girl's face, +who seemed not at all displeased; but in an instant, as if he repented +of his temerity, he hung his head and sighed.</p> + +<p>"You are always so obliging, Monsieur Paul, that I thought of you +for—listen, it is this: I live with my aunt, Madame Vardeine, who has +taken care of me since my parents died; she says that I owe her a great +deal of money, although my father left me a little something—fifteen +thousand francs, I believe; that isn't a fortune, but still it's enough +to live on, and one can be very comfortable with that, if one has a +trade too; isn't that so?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, mademoiselle; with orderly habits and hard work, one may become +rich with that amount of money."</p> + +<p>"Do you really think so? It must be very nice to be rich! Well, as I was +saying, my aunt is forever telling me that she does everything for me, +that I cost her a great deal, that I spend much more than my money +brings in—for she is my guardian. But, oh! Monsieur Paul, if you knew +what she gives me for my breakfast and dinner, you would say that it was +none too much! Luckily, I'm not a glutton, whatever she may say. Ten +sous for breakfast and dinner—can one be a glutton with that?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed, mademoiselle. But it is very wrong of your aunt to give you +so little for your food. Your money must certainly bring in seven +hundred francs a year—which would give you about thirty-nine sous a<a name="vol_3_page_054" id="vol_3_page_054"></a> +day to spend. So if she gives you only ten sous for your board, she +keeps twenty-nine for your lodging."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I think you must be mistaken, Monsieur Paul; my aunt says that my +money brings in barely twenty sous a day,—that's a long way from +thirty-nine,—and that she has to use some of her own to clothe me."</p> + +<p>"I am not mistaken, mademoiselle. I know how to reckon, for I haven't +always been a messenger. For eight years, I was employed in a merchant's +office, and I worked over figures and accounts all day."</p> + +<p>"Really, Monsieur Paul? Ah! I thought—— You don't look like a +messenger—like the others. You talk well, and you don't swear. Were you +obliged to take up this business?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, mademoiselle; my benefactor died, and I had not a sou. As I +couldn't find a place, I thought it was better to be a messenger than to +idle away my time and live, as so many do, at others' expense."</p> + +<p>"You are quite right. After all, there is nothing despicable in being a +messenger; you're not a servant, as the girls in our workroom are so +fond of calling you. Oh! they say that to make me furious, because I +always stand up for you."</p> + +<p>"Stand up for me? You say that you sometimes talk about me in your +workroom?"</p> + +<p>Mademoiselle Elina blushed as she replied:</p> + +<p>"Oh!—that is to say—we talk about messengers in general—and as we +have employed you several times—— But I stand chattering here, when I +came down to buy something at the linen draper's, and I haven't told you +yet what I wanted to ask you. My aunt says that I talk too much. As far +as that goes, perhaps she is right; it's such fun to talk—not with +everybody, of course, but<a name="vol_3_page_055" id="vol_3_page_055"></a> with people who—listen to you—and—that is +to say—— Mon Dieu! it seems to me that I am getting all mixed up, and +don't know what I am saying."</p> + +<p>Paul ventured to glance at the pretty dressmaker once more. Her face +wore such a comical expression, as she twisted a corner of her apron in +her hands, that the young man smiled involuntarily, and his smile was +reflected on Elina's lips; for between two persons who are sympathetic a +smile is like a train of powder: the spark is hardly applied at one end +before it reaches the other.</p> + +<p>"I wanted to ask you, Monsieur Paul, if you could come and help me move +to-morrow morning?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, mademoiselle; with great pleasure."</p> + +<p>"You must come very early, so that it can be all done before it is time +for me to go to my work."</p> + +<p>"I will come as early as you wish, mademoiselle. Where are you going to +move?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! in the same house. We live on Rue Taitbout, you know—for you have +sometimes been kind enough to carry my bundles home for me, because, you +said, they were too heavy for a young girl."</p> + +<p>"It was a very great pleasure to me, mademoiselle. I am so happy when +you deign to permit me—when I can—when I have the honor——"</p> + +<p>Paul stopped, for he found that he too was getting confused; but Elina +did not seem surprised; on the contrary, was it not natural that he +should have the same experience that she had had a moment before? should +not the same causes always produce the same effects?</p> + +<p>"You see, Monsieur Paul, my aunt has found another apartment on the same +floor, the fourth, which isn't so dear, and where she says we shall be +quite as comfortable. She herself certainly will be, for she has a room<a name="vol_3_page_056" id="vol_3_page_056"></a> +as large as her other one, with a splendid fireplace. But it isn't the +same with me; where we are now, I have a little room opening on the +little hallway. It's pretty small; just big enough for my bed, a commode +that was my mother's, two chairs, and a little table covered with red +leather, which father used for a desk. Those things are all that I have +that belonged to my parents, and I think a great deal of them. Well! +where we're going to-morrow, there's nothing for me but a little box of +a place, which was once part of a dark room used as a hall; and I never +shall be able to get my commode and table into it. But my aunt declares +that I shall be better off, that I shall be warmer, and that it's very +healthy to sleep in a loft."</p> + +<p>"Your aunt is very blameworthy, mademoiselle, to make you sleep in a +loft, for it is very unhealthy, I say. You have the right to demand a +room for yourself. She must be very miserly. If you like, I will speak +to her, and make her understand that she mustn't treat you so cruelly, +that you are not a burden to her, far from it, but——"</p> + +<p>"Oh! no, no, Monsieur Paul; if my aunt knew that I had dared to complain +of her, she would be angry and would scold me. No, you mustn't say +anything to her. After all, what difference does it make if I haven't a +room of my own? I am at home so little; I go away at eight in the +morning to my work, and I don't leave the workroom till nine at night, +sometimes later, when there's a press of work. So you see I am hardly +ever in my room except to sleep, and at my age one can sleep soundly +anywhere. And then, my aunt isn't really unkind, only she always thinks +of herself first. Oh! she never thinks of depriving herself of anything, +either for her breakfast<a name="vol_3_page_057" id="vol_3_page_057"></a> or her dinner; but she says that a young girl +ought to be economical and abstemious; she is quite right, too, and I +assure you that with my ten sous I have all I need to eat. Indeed, there +are some days when I don't spend it all; I keep a little for the next +day, and then I have a feast. Mon Dieu! how I rattle on! My mistress +will tell me I have been gone too long. It is a question of helping me +to move, Monsieur Paul. As we are going to stay on the same floor, my +aunt told me to get the concierge to help me, as he and I could move +everything. But he is very old, and I'm afraid he isn't strong enough to +move the things with me; so, if you can come——"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, mademoiselle; I will move everything, never fear; there will +be no need for you to tire yourself."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I expect to help you. Well, then, Monsieur Paul, until to-morrow +morning! come early, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Before daybreak, if you wish, mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! it is light before five o'clock now; if you can come at +half-past five or quarter to six, that will be quite early enough."</p> + +<p>"Very well, mademoiselle; I will be prompt."</p> + +<p>"By the way, you must knock softly, so as not to wake my aunt; for she +gets up very late. We can move everything except her bed."</p> + +<p>"We won't make any noise, mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>"Adieu, Monsieur Paul! Oh, dear! now I don't know what I was going to +buy at the linen draper's; in talking with you, I have entirely +forgotten."</p> + +<p>"Thread, perhaps—or ribbon—or needles?"</p> + +<p>"No, no. Oh! what a head I have! Never mind; I'll go back and say they +hadn't any. Then madame will say that it's taken me a long time to find +that out."<a name="vol_3_page_058" id="vol_3_page_058"></a></p> + +<p>"Don't you want me to go up to Madame Dumanchon's, mademoiselle? I'll +tell her that you have forgotten what color you were to buy, or how +much."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! for then they would know that I have been talking to you; and +the girls are always making fun of me now, because——"</p> + +<p>"Because you are kind enough to employ me in preference to others?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and then, I—I said that you were above your calling. And I was +right too, as you were in a merchant's employ for a long while; but +still, they are so unkind! Well, it can't be helped; I must go back. I +will admit that I have forgotten what I came out for, and I shall be +scolded; but that's a small matter."</p> + +<p>The girl turned and walked dolefully back toward the house opposite, and +was just passing through the door, when she suddenly jumped for joy and +ran back across the street, saying to Paul as she passed him:</p> + +<p>"Whalebones, small, thin whalebones, to put in the back of a dress, I +remember now. Adieu, until to-morrow!"</p> + +<p>Paul looked after her until she turned into the boulevard; and even when +he could no longer see her, he continued to gaze in that direction, as +if it prolonged his happiness. But in a moment he exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! I have forgotten that young gentleman's errands!"</p> + +<p>He was about to start and make up for the time he had lost, when he felt +a hand upon his arm. He turned and found that it was the flower girl who +was detaining him.</p> + +<p>"Let me go, Bastringuette, let me go!" he said; "I am in a great hurry; +I have some errands to do."</p> + +<p>"In a hurry, are you? I say! you didn't seem to be a minute ago, for +you've been having a nice little chin<a name="vol_3_page_059" id="vol_3_page_059"></a> with the little dressmaker. She +plays a pretty game with her mouth, she does. You seem to have had lots +of things to tell her, flatterer!"</p> + +<p>"It's just because I have been talking so long that I am behindhand. By +the way, Bastringuette, Sans-Cravate expects you to sup with him +to-night at his wine shop on Rue Saint-Lazare. He means to treat +everybody."</p> + +<p>"Shall you be in the crowd?"</p> + +<p>"Why—perhaps so."</p> + +<p>"I want you to be—if not, I won't go. Monster! who knows that I love +him, that I am cracked over his shape, and still he won't honor me with +a look, while he talks yards at a time with little hussies of +dressmakers!"</p> + +<p>"I am not in the habit of making eyes at my friends' mistresses, +Bastringuette; and Sans-Cravate is my friend."</p> + +<p>"I don't care a hang; I haven't sworn to love the same man and no one +else all my life. That would be too monotonous; it's all right for the +swells to take that kind of oaths and then break 'em. I prefer to act on +the square, and I wouldn't hesitate to say before Sans-Cravate that I am +stuck on you."</p> + +<p>"You are mad. Let me go, I insist!"</p> + +<p>Paul succeeded in releasing his jacket from the flower girl's grasp, and +ran off at full speed; while Bastringuette crushed one of her bunches of +violets, muttering:</p> + +<p>"That's what comes of loving such beasts! Well, it don't make any +difference; the more he resists me, the more I love him. That's my +nature! we can't make ourselves over."<a name="vol_3_page_060" id="vol_3_page_060"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V<br /><br /> +<small>CLOSER ACQUAINTANCE</small></h2> + +<p>Before returning to the three young men who were about to enter the +Passage des Panoramas, let us say a few words with regard to them: it is +always well to know the people with whom one has to do.</p> + +<p>Albert Vermoncey, whose external aspect was so captivating, had not +reached his twenty-second birthday, and yet he was leading the most +wildly dissipated life that a man can lead in Paris. Spoiled prematurely +by his success with the fair sex, he deemed himself in duty bound to +deceive all the women with whom he had dealings, to have several +mistresses at the same time, to keep ballet dancers, to seduce simple +bourgeoises, to make sport of grandes dames, and to amuse himself with +grisettes.</p> + +<p>To lead such an existence, one must have wealth, or high office, or +unlimited credit. Albert had no office; he had completed the course of +study for the bar, and called himself an advocate. There is nothing more +advantageous to a man in Paris than to have studied for the bar; he may +do nothing, and still he has a profession. That is why young men of good +family, as a general rule, are very desirous to study law. But, in order +to cut a brilliant figure in that position, it is necessary to have +wealth in addition; for it is not the fashion to retain an advocate who +tries no causes, unless he becomes a business agent, in which case he +assumes the pompous title of <i>jurisconsult</i>, and has a <i>cabinet.</i> +Knowledge of the law<a name="vol_3_page_061" id="vol_3_page_061"></a> is a great advantage to a business agent, because +he is then in a position to handle business of all sorts. When he knows +the <i>Code</i>, the <i>Digest</i>, and the <i>Authentiques</i>, he can undertake +proceedings for separation, look after inheritances, adoptions, and +prosecutions; and those things do not interfere with his writing +vaudevilles or melodramas in his leisure moments. I should be much +embarrassed to mention anything that a man cannot do when he has studied +law.</p> + +<p>But Albert had no <i>cabinet</i>, nor did he try causes; he had never been to +the Palais de Justice, and he thought of nothing but enjoying himself; +it is plain, therefore, that he was wealthy, or that his parents +were,—which is not altogether the same thing, although young men +sometimes overlook the distinction.</p> + +<p>Albert's father was a man somewhat over forty years of age, who had once +been very handsome, and presumably had had his day of success with the +ladies. However, before he reached the age at which men are accustomed +to reform (when they reform at all), Monsieur Vermoncey had renounced +all worldly pleasures, as the result of a succession of cruel disasters +which robbed him of all that he held dearest.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey, whose only possession was his comely face, married +early in life a young woman of large wealth, and from that time fortune +smiled upon him. He plunged into speculation, was continuously lucky, +and soon found himself in possession of an income of twenty thousand +francs.</p> + +<p>In his home, as in affairs, destiny seemed favorable to him. His wife +was amiable and gentle; he had married her solely for her fortune, but +he soon found that she deserved to be loved for herself, and, unlike +those<a name="vol_3_page_062" id="vol_3_page_062"></a> husbands who are all fire and flame at first and then turn to +ice, he proceeded from indifference to love.</p> + +<p>Four children were born of the marriage, at brief intervals. Albert was +the oldest, and he had two brothers and a sister. Monsieur Vermoncey was +happy, and proud of his numerous family; he was as good a father as +husband.</p> + +<p>But that state of affairs was too happy to last; perfect happiness seems +to be contrary to the designs of Nature, for she speedily sends +something to disturb it. Perhaps it is to afford some compensation to +the unfortunate by showing them that suffering spares the greatest no +more than the smallest, the wealthiest no more than the poorest; to +prevent them from envying too keenly those in exalted station, and to +impress it upon them that sometimes under the humblest roof are to be +found those inestimable blessings, those joys of the heart, which all +the gold of Peru cannot buy.</p> + +<p>The oldest child was but ten years old when Monsieur Vermoncey lost his +wife; this calamity was soon followed by the death of his youngest son; +two years later, his daughter also was taken from him; finally, Albert's +last brother followed his mother to the grave. So that, of his large +family, only one son remained to fill the places of all whom he had +lost.</p> + +<p>These events had caused Monsieur Vermoncey the most profound grief, +which was always reflected on his features. His wife's death caused him +a very bitter pang, and the loss of each succeeding child intensified +his sorrow beyond words. He would often sit for hours at a time, crushed +to the earth by his thoughts; and when he raised his eyes, they bore an +expression of melancholy resignation which could not fail to touch the +hardest heart.<a name="vol_3_page_063" id="vol_3_page_063"></a></p> + +<p>All his affection was concentrated on Albert, his only remaining child. +It is not surprising, therefore, that the young man had found in his +father a boundless store of indulgence, upon which he relied to obtain +forgiveness for his excesses.</p> + +<p>However, Monsieur Vermoncey did not carry his weakness so far that he +did not see his son's failings; he had urged him to lead a more orderly +life; sometimes, even, he had tried to impart a tinge of severity to his +advice; but his intense affection for his son soon carried the day; +moreover, Albert always promised to mend his ways, and his father was +only too glad to believe him.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately for Albert, he had become intimate with one of those men +who trade on the weaknesses of others, and who, not having means enough +to lead a life of dissipation, and lacking the talent to procure it, +attach themselves to those who are possessed of wealth, find a way to +make themselves necessary to them, to take part in all their follies, to +be included in all their parties of pleasure; so that they are able to +lead a most agreeable existence with a very modest income, or even if +they have not a sou. Paris swarms with such men. They are not thieves, +strictly speaking, for they do not rob you; they are not mere +<i>intrigants</i>, for they have a name and some position in society; but +they are shrewd fellows, who risk nothing and make the most of +everything.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Célestin Valnoir, who called himself <i>De</i> Valnoir in order to +obtain greater consideration, was an individual of this type. He had +wormed himself into Albert's friendship, as men worm themselves into the +friendship of those who own châteaux or large estates, or anything else +that is worth preying upon. He had not a sou, and he was supposed to +have at least fifteen<a name="vol_3_page_064" id="vol_3_page_064"></a> thousand francs a year; he was the son of a +butcher in the suburbs, and was believed to be of noble birth; he had no +knowledge of music or of drawing, but posed as a master of all such +subjects; in fact, he had received very little education, and he was +looked upon as a profound scholar. But, on the other hand, he had +certain qualities which, in society, often replace all others: an +imperturbable self-assurance, and the art of turning the most trivial +circumstances to his advantage.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Tobie Pigeonnier was one of a very poor and very large family, +and had sworn to make his fortune. To that end, at the age of eight he +walked about the streets picking up pins, which he sold when he had +obtained a certain quantity. Impressed by his business instincts, one of +his uncles had taken charge of him and made him his clerk, with no wages +beyond his board and lodging; still the young man succeeded in saving +money, which seems a difficult task, when he earned none; but he sold +his uncle's old clothes, which were the only perquisites of his +position. In order to make those perquisites more valuable, by advancing +the time when his patron's garments should be turned over to him, he +often passed a large part of the night rubbing them with pumice stone, +so that the cloth soon became as thin as paper and began to give way on +all sides. But one morning, when the uncle happened to rise earlier than +usual, he found his nephew engaged in polishing the back of his coat, +and instantly turned him out of doors.</p> + +<p>Tobie thereupon risked his little hoard in a speculation. A friend of +his had just opened a pastry-cook's shop. <i>Galette</i> was just becoming +fashionable in Paris; several large fortunes owed their origin to the +fondness of the Parisians for that delicacy. Pigeonnier risked his<a name="vol_3_page_065" id="vol_3_page_065"></a> +funds, and at the end of a year he withdrew ten times as much. +Thereupon, finding himself in a position to cut a figure in the world, +Tobie became a dealer in chestnuts, on commission; but, despite his +business ability, he made much less money than when he was the +pastry-cook's partner; moreover, vanity had taken possession of him, and +he had said to himself, like many another: "To become rich, it is +necessary to appear rich; water flows to the river; consequently, in +order to make money, I must act as if I already had a lot of it."—That +is why young Tobie took so much pains with his dress, and affected the +manners and habits of a wealthy dandy. To be sure, only the fronts of +his shirts were of fine linen; the rest was of a very coarse, cheap +quality; the head of his cane was hollow, his eyeglass German silver, +his pin paste; but they all looked like the real thing. Furthermore, +Pigeonnier never lost an opportunity to say:</p> + +<p>"I dined at Véry's. I am going to breakfast at Véfour's. I sup to-night +at the Maison-Dorée. I was at the Opéra last night. I am going to the +Français to-night. I mean to go to the Bouffes to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Whereas, in fact, Tobie Pigeonnier usually slipped into the most modest +restaurants, except when he dined at home on a loaf of bread and a piece +of Italian cheese; which did not prevent him from going to walk +afterward in the garden of the Palais-Royal, with a toothpick in his +mouth, and saying to all his acquaintances, as he unbuttoned two or +three buttons of his waistcoat:</p> + +<p>"On my word, I believe I ate too much dinner; I am suffocating. They +treat you very well at Douix's. But it's foolish to eat so much. I am a +shameful glutton!"</p> + +<p>And if he went to the theatre, it was only to take his stand under the +peristyle just as the curtain fell, in order<a name="vol_3_page_066" id="vol_3_page_066"></a> to hear what was said of +the play; and when he did venture to buy a ticket, it was only because +he could get it extremely cheap, there being only a scene or two to be +played.</p> + +<p>We have said enough to make it clear that he was very far from having as +many mistresses as he claimed to have. Although he was rather a +good-looking youth, especially in the eyes of those persons who like +noses shaped like a parrot's beak, he rarely ventured to embark upon a +love affair; because, as a general rule, such affairs require, first of +all, that one should have money in one's pocket. A young man without a +sou may inspire a passion, form a liaison, have a mistress who really +loves him; and under such circumstances he is entitled to flatter +himself that he is loved on his own account; but he cannot change +mistresses very often—in short, he can hardly be what we call a man <i>à +bonnes fortunes</i>. That is a calling which requires a constant +expenditure of money and of health. Tobie asked nothing better than to +spend the latter, but preferred to hoard his money.</p> + +<p>When his fashionable friends proposed to him to join a party of +pleasure, or to dine with them, he always found some pretext for +refusing; but this time, the hope of making a conquest of Madame Plays +overcame his usual reserve; for in that lady's acquaintance he foresaw +many opportunities to advance his fortunes. Monsieur Plays was a +commission merchant, and might offer him frequent opportunities to make +profitable investments. All these considerations combined had induced +Tobie to accept Albert's proposition; and although he was very short of +money, he had decided also to be one of the dinner party at the +Maison-Dorée.<a name="vol_3_page_067" id="vol_3_page_067"></a></p> + +<p>Now, let us join the three young men in the Passage des Panoramas, where +they were waiting for the two others whom Célestin had arranged to meet +there.</p> + +<p>"There's always a crowd in this passage," said Albert. "In summer, +people walk through; in winter, they come here to walk, because the +boulevards are muddy. If it rains, they come here for shelter; if the +sun is very hot, they come here for shade; so that there's always a +crowd here."</p> + +<p>"Let's look at the statuettes. You told us, Tobie, didn't you, that +somebody was making a caricature of you?"</p> + +<p>"Not a caricature, but a bust, life size."</p> + +<p>"That won't be so amusing."</p> + +<p>"Have we got to wait for Mouillot and Balivan, I wonder! Mouillot is +never on time."</p> + +<p>"Oh! it isn't half-past five yet."</p> + +<p>"Let's look at the new songs."</p> + +<p>"That is to say, the new lithographs; for a song doesn't sell nowadays, +you know, unless it has some pretty picture on the cover."</p> + +<p>"That's not very flattering for the music."</p> + +<p>"But it's a good thing for the artists. Brûlé's shop, Frère's successor, +is always full of fascinating things of that sort. Look! there are some +beautiful <i>albums.</i> I refer to the binding."</p> + +<p>Tobie was standing in an ecstasy of admiration before a manikin in front +of a draper's shop.</p> + +<p>"Is that your bust you are gazing at?" asked Célestin, laughingly.</p> + +<p>"You seem inclined to jest, messieurs; but I would like to resemble this +manikin. I mean, in the way he's dressed. Just see how beautifully that +frock-coat fits his<a name="vol_3_page_068" id="vol_3_page_068"></a> back! It must be delightful to be dressed like +that! I would gladly pay sixty francs for a coat that squeezed my waist +that way."</p> + +<p>"You can be squeezed for less than that. But you may set your mind at +rest, young Pigeonnier; I assure you that you look a good deal like a +manikin."</p> + +<p>Tobie glanced at Célestin with an expression that said:</p> + +<p>"You would be very glad to look like me!"</p> + +<p>At that moment, Albert halted in front of a cap and ribbon shop, in +which he spied two rather attractive young women behind the counter. He +exchanged meaning glances with one of them, while the mistress of the +shop was trying caps on a decidedly plain person who had just come in, +and who found none of them to her taste, because she could not make up +her mind that any one of them made her pretty.</p> + +<p>As the throng about them became more dense, Tobie took his companions by +the arm, saying:</p> + +<p>"If you stand still like this, messieurs, look out for your pockets. The +Passage des Panoramas is very pretty, very brilliant, and much +frequented; but I must warn you that it is one of the places where the +greatest number of thefts is committed every day. When an honest +bourgeois stops in front of Susse's shop, or in front of Marquis's +wonderful <i>postiches</i>, if he doesn't keep his hands on his fob and his +pockets all the time, he is sure to find himself minus watch, purse, +handkerchief, and snuffbox. Between six and nine at night, when the +promenaders are most numerous, the thefts are most frequent; at that +time, you see in these galleries numbers of men in blouses and caps, who +certainly have no business in this quarter, and who wouldn't walk in +this passage unless they carried on a criminal industry here."<a name="vol_3_page_069" id="vol_3_page_069"></a></p> + +<p>"You are right, Tobie; and I can see at this moment some gentlemen with +faces in which I should have very little confidence. Come, Albert, +come—are you still in love with that shopgirl? Ah! I see our +friends—and Dupétrain is with them! Good! we shall have some sport. He +always has some extraordinary story to tell."</p> + +<p>"Who is Monsieur Dupétrain?" inquired Tobie.</p> + +<p>"Don't you know Dupétrain? Well, upon my word! All Paris knows him. He's +a very good fellow—who is constantly having wonderful adventures. He's +a frantic adept of magnetism. He'll put you to sleep, and make you walk +in your sleep, if you like. Come, messieurs; come, I say!"</p> + +<p>Three young men, walking arm in arm, halted in front of Albert and his +companions. They greeted one another with smiles, exchanging handshakes +and puffs of tobacco smoke.</p> + +<p>The new-comers were: first, Mouillot, head clerk in a business house; a +tall, fair-haired, red-cheeked youth, with an amiable, jovial face, +whose appearance pointed him out at once as a bon vivant.</p> + +<p>Next, Balivan, portrait painter; a typical artist's face, with unusual +features, which could in all sincerity be called ugly, and a bearing in +harmony with his features. He held himself sidewise, with his head sunk +on one shoulder; he had a jerky walk, one leg always lagging behind; and +he waved his arms about in space, so that at a distance they resembled +the wings of a windmill. But, with all that, his face had much character +and expression; his forehead was that of a man who thinks, and in his +eyes there shone the fire of intelligence, which, in a man, excuses +ugliness and often triumphs over beauty.<a name="vol_3_page_070" id="vol_3_page_070"></a></p> + +<p>Balivan had genuine artistic talent, which is never a disadvantage; but +he was extremely lazy, a not infrequent trait among artists; in +addition, he was very heedless, always making blunders, and +extraordinarily absent-minded.</p> + +<p>The third of the party was he whom Célestin called Dupétrain. He was a +man between thirty and forty, with a square, bony face, and yellow skin, +extremely ugly at first sight, and even more so when examined closely. +His broad nose lay flat on his cheeks, like a negro's; his enormous +mouth became a veritable cavern when he spoke, because, in order to give +greater weight to his words, he articulated every syllable with a +painstaking care that was very disagreeable to his hearers. His head was +adorned with a forest of hair, which he always wore very long, and which +gave him some resemblance to a lion; his small, sunken, glassy eyes +seemed to be engaged in a constant effort to fascinate or at least to +magnetize you. Such was the individual who answered to the name of +Dupétrain.</p> + +<p>"Ah! here's Pigeonnier!" exclaimed Mouillot, bringing his hand down on +the corpulent youth's shoulder. "Does he dine with us?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, messieurs; I am to have that pleasure."</p> + +<p>"Famous! the man we can never get—who's always engaged."</p> + +<p>"I have given up everything to-day to join you."</p> + +<p>"But he doesn't tell you all. There's another affair—but, no! we will +speak of that at dinner—without mentioning the lady's name, of course; +for we must be discreet—eh, Tobie?"</p> + +<p>"Where do we dine?"</p> + +<p>"At the Maison-Dorée."<a name="vol_3_page_071" id="vol_3_page_071"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI<br /><br /> +<small>A STAG DINNER PARTY</small></h2> + +<p>The young men established themselves in one of the pleasant salons of +the restaurant. Mouillot called for pen and ink to prepare the menu, and +Tobie whispered to Albert:</p> + +<p>"We mustn't forget my letter for Madame Plays."</p> + +<p>"True," replied Albert.—"Waiter, some note paper."</p> + +<p>"Do you propose to order the dinner, too?" said Mouillot. "Can't you +trust me to do it in style?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure; I am going to write something else."</p> + +<p>"A billet-doux, eh? Oh! for heaven's sake, let the women alone! We are +here to eat and laugh."</p> + +<p>"This is how it is, messieurs. There's——"</p> + +<p>"Oh! my dear fellow," cried Tobie, hurrying to Albert's side, "let's not +compromise anybody! we agreed to be close-mouthed!"</p> + +<p>"So long as he doesn't mention the lady's name," said Célestin, "I don't +see why he can't tell the story."</p> + +<p>"Surely I can. I am turning over one of my mistresses to Tobie, +messieurs,—assuming, of course, that she is willing to accept him as a +substitute."</p> + +<p>"You can't be certain of that," laughed Mouillot; "for he hasn't the +figure."</p> + +<p>"Do you say you've been drawn in the conscription?" inquired Balivan, +who had not heard the beginning of the conversation.<a name="vol_3_page_072" id="vol_3_page_072"></a></p> + +<p>"No, no; I have bought a substitute.—Come, Albert, write my letter; for +I am afraid we shall hardly be in the mood for writing after dinner."</p> + +<p>"I am sending Tobie to an assignation in my place," said Albert, "and I +am going to give him a letter of introduction."</p> + +<p>"Well, you can write your letter while I am writing the order for +dinner. It will give you inspiration. Here come the writing materials."</p> + +<p>Albert sat down opposite Mouillot, each of them took a pen; and while +one sought words to write to his mistress, the other looked over the +bill of fare.</p> + +<p>Albert began, reading aloud as he wrote:</p> + +<p>"Charming creature!"</p> + +<p>Mouillot in like manner announced each dish that he selected.</p> + +<p>"<i>Potage aux bistres.</i>"</p> + +<p>"You know how dearly I love you."</p> + +<p>"For three—that will be enough."</p> + +<p>"Your image is always before me."</p> + +<p>"Calf's head <i>en tortue</i>."</p> + +<p>"When I see you, I instantly become——"</p> + +<p>"<i>Andouillette de Troyes.</i>"</p> + +<p>"Drunk with joy."</p> + +<p>"With salmon."</p> + +<p>"But I am detained at this moment by urgent business, dear heart."</p> + +<p>"Truffled turkey."</p> + +<p>"To save you the annoyance of waiting for me at our rendezvous——"</p> + +<p>"Lobster——"</p> + +<p>"I send one of my intimate friends."</p> + +<p>"As fresh as possible."<a name="vol_3_page_073" id="vol_3_page_073"></a></p> + +<p>"You can trust him absolutely."</p> + +<p>"If it smells, we shall send it back."</p> + +<p>"He will escort you to a place we have agreed on——"</p> + +<p>"Asparagus——"</p> + +<p>"And will stay with you till I come."</p> + +<p>"With white sauce."</p> + +<p>"I will join you as soon as I possibly can."</p> + +<p>"Sweets, dessert, champagne."</p> + +<p>"I send you by him a thousand assurances of my love."</p> + +<p>"Serve everything hot."</p> + +<p>"With such a letter of recommendation, it seems to me that you ought to +receive a warm welcome," said Albert, as he signed his name.</p> + +<p>"I call that a well-diversified little dinner, messieurs," said +Mouillot, handing the order to the waiter.</p> + +<p>As for Tobie, he thanked Albert and carefully pocketed the missive that +was to open the way for him to a piquant intrigue.</p> + +<p>"Above all things, serve the dinner promptly, and without interruption," +he called to the waiter.</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! why are we in such a hurry?" said the artist, who had already +seated himself at the table and was blowing his nose in his napkin, +which he mistook for his handkerchief. "For my part, I like to sit a +long while at dinner."</p> + +<p>"So do I; but I have an assignation for this evening."</p> + +<p>"Well, upon my word! there's Balivan using his napkin for a +handkerchief! That's the beginning of his freaks. We shall see some +amusing sights, if he goes on."</p> + +<p>"My napkin! Faith, that's true! I am always doing that; and the worst of +it is that I did it not long ago at a grand dinner, at a banker's house, +where there were<a name="vol_3_page_074" id="vol_3_page_074"></a> marquises and deputies. Suddenly I saw that everybody +was looking at me with a curious expression. Imagine my confusion, when +a very pretty woman, who was sitting beside me, said in a most amiable +tone: 'Of course, you are doing that for a wager, monsieur?'—'What, +madame?'—'Using your napkin as a handkerchief.'—Then, of course, I +realized my blunder; and what do you suppose I did, in my embarrassment? +I put the napkin in my pocket! Luckily, everybody began to laugh, for +they saw how absent-minded I was."</p> + +<p>"Meanwhile," said Mouillot, "I request as a favor that I may not be +seated next to Balivan, because absent-minded people are very unpleasant +neighbors at table.—You ask him to pass the olives, and he'll pour +water in your wine. If you want bread, he'll pass you the pepper. It's a +constant succession of disappointments."</p> + +<p>"Have you ever been magnetized?" inquired Monsieur Dupétrain, fixing his +glassy stare on the painter.</p> + +<p>"Oh! go to the devil with your magnetism! As if I took any stock in it!"</p> + +<p>"Take any stock in it! Why, my dear fellow, don't you know that the +power of magnetism is absolutely proved? that the most distinguished +people are the most fervent adepts of Mesmer? that ladies of the highest +social position go to the magnetizers now to be put to sleep, as they +used to go to be mesmerized?"</p> + +<p>"Parbleu! that's a convincing authority to appeal to! Women—who adore +anything that promises a novel kind of sensation, and who seek pleasure +instead of truth."</p> + +<p>"But I'll wager, Balivan, that I can put you to sleep, incredulous as +you are!"</p> + +<p>"Put me to sleep! That is very possible; but it would be much harder to +wake me."<a name="vol_3_page_075" id="vol_3_page_075"></a></p> + +<p>"I say, messieurs, aren't you ready to stop talking magnetism?" cried +Mouillot; "I supposed that we dined together to enjoy ourselves. For +heaven's sake, Dupétrain, don't put us to sleep yet! Later, if you +choose.—To the table, my friends!"</p> + +<p>They took their seats, Tobie among the first. He examined the tableware, +the hors-d'œuvre, the glasses of different sizes placed in front of +each guest, and an ecstatic expression lighted up his face. From the way +that he ate and drank, and lingered lovingly over every mouthful, one +could divine that he was perfectly content, and that his thoughts took +this turn:</p> + +<p>"As I am here, I must make the most of it. If I spend money, at all +events it will be of some benefit to me."</p> + +<p>"Aren't we going to have any madeira?" said Célestin, after finishing +his soup.</p> + +<p>"I should say so! What do you take us for?" replied Mouillot.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes! madeira!" cried Pigeonnier. "When I am in the vein, I don't +deny myself anything."</p> + +<p>"Waiter! some madeira!"</p> + +<p>"It is here, messieurs; what wine will you have next?"</p> + +<p>"Beaune première, to begin with. After that, we will see."</p> + +<p>"That's right!" said Tobie, gulping down the madeira. "Beaune première, +the best there is! Is anything too good for us? Pass me the olives. Pass +me the anchovies. Pass me the tunny."</p> + +<p>"The devil! you might as well say pass me everything! How little Tobie +pitches in! Be careful, my dear fellow; it isn't prudent to have your +stomach too full when you are going straight away to an assignation."<a name="vol_3_page_076" id="vol_3_page_076"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh! I have room enough. I'd like some madeira."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur has a full, round face, which doesn't indicate a very nervous +man," said Dupétrain, looking at Tobie; "but I'll bet that I can put him +to sleep."</p> + +<p>"Dupétrain," cried Mouillot, "you will be fined five francs every time +that you mention magnetism during dinner."</p> + +<p>"Oho! we're forbidden to speak now, are we?"</p> + +<p>"Tell us something amusing—we would like that.—But you don't say +anything, Albert! Have you an unrequited passion in your heart?"</p> + +<p>"I, a passion! <i>Fichtre!</i> no—but I—— By the way, waiter, I expect a +messenger. Let me know when anyone asks for me."</p> + +<p>"The same with me," said Célestin.</p> + +<p>"And me," cried Tobie, stuffing a handful of olives into his pocket; +"let me know, waiter—for it's very important. I am Monsieur Tobie +Pigeonnier. A messenger will ask for me."</p> + +<p>"Do you propose to put all the olives in your pocket, Tobie?"</p> + +<p>"I like them pocketed,<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> messieurs; they're much better."</p> + +<p>"Yes," laughed Célestin, "and then, you have some the next day."</p> + +<p>"Ah! they are better pocketed, are they?" said the artist. "Then I must +try some."</p> + +<p>And as the radishes were passed to Balivan a moment later, he seized a +handful and put them in his pocket.</p> + +<p>The first courses were discussed with great zest by the young men; but +when the truffled turkey arrived, their enthusiasm had abated in some +degree; Tobie alone<a name="vol_3_page_077" id="vol_3_page_077"></a> seemed as hungry as ever, and filled his plate with +truffles, crying:</p> + +<p>"On my word, one can dine mighty well here!"</p> + +<p>"You don't seem to be sure of yourself, Pigeonnier," said Albert, with a +smile.</p> + +<p>"Peste!" said Mouillot; "how you do work your oven!"</p> + +<p>"Well, for all that," interposed Dupétrain, "I'll bet that I can put +monsieur to sleep."</p> + +<p>"Five francs, Dupétrain!"</p> + +<p>"Give me some beaune, Balivan. Damnation! I knew it; he's mixed it with +madeira! Would you like me to give you an idea of that fellow's +absent-mindedness, messieurs? Not long ago, I went to see him during the +day; his servant said: 'Monsieur is taking a bath; he sent out for one, +and he's in it now.'—'Well,' I said, 'that needn't prevent my speaking +to him. Men aren't afraid to look at one another in the water.'—So I +went into the room where my gentleman was bathing. What did I see? +Balivan, fully dressed, and with his boots on, seated in his bath and +quietly reading a newspaper, absolutely unconscious that there was +anything peculiar in his method of bathing."</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! ha! that is too much; we might say, like your fair neighbor at +dinner: it was a bet, wasn't it, Balivan?"</p> + +<p>"No, messieurs," the artist calmly replied; "I give you my word that I +hadn't noticed what I was doing. If they had brought me my bath in +decent season, it wouldn't have happened. But when I found that it +didn't come, I went out; when I came back, it was all ready; I was in a +hurry, so I just glanced at the clock, took the <i>Gazette des Tribunaux</i>, +and jumped in. That infernal<a name="vol_3_page_078" id="vol_3_page_078"></a> newspaper was at the bottom of it; for I +was reading a very interesting case, and all I remember now is that the +water seemed very heavy."</p> + +<p>"You may be a somnambulist," said Dupétrain; "very likely you were +asleep when you got into the bath."</p> + +<p>"Asleep! damnation! I tell you, I had just been out to do an errand; I +was in a great hurry, for I hadn't had my breakfast, and I got into the +bath without thinking of undressing."</p> + +<p>During this conversation, young Tobie, determined to waste no time, had +slipped into his napkin a large part of the truffles that were on his +plate, and, having wiped them carefully, stuffed them into his pocket. +Then he said:</p> + +<p>"Just pass me the turkey again, messieurs; I would like a few of the +truffles with this chicken."</p> + +<p>"I say, Pigeonnier, this is too much; you mean to outdo yourself, my +dear fellow, to leave Albert in the shade!"</p> + +<p>"Tudieu! what an appetite!" cried Mouillot. "That blade ought to pay for +two; he beats us all."</p> + +<p>"You see, messieurs, I am very fond of truffles."</p> + +<p>"So we perceive."</p> + +<p>Albert consulted his watch, and said, with an impatient gesture:</p> + +<p>"Why doesn't that messenger come?"</p> + +<p>"Neither of them has come yet."</p> + +<p>"Have you been sending bouquets to your fair ones, messieurs?" queried +Mouillot; "that reminds me of an experience I had with a blockhead of a +messenger. My mistress at that time was a very attractive woman, an +amiable little creature of about twenty-two, who seemed barely eighteen. +She was married, and an old aunt of<a name="vol_3_page_079" id="vol_3_page_079"></a> her husband lived with her and was +supposed to keep an eye on her, because they knew she was a little +giddy. So that we had to act cautiously. My charmer had asked me to send +her a bouquet, because she was going to a ball, to which I also was +going. During the day, I bought a lovely bouquet at Mademoiselle +Prévot's, then took a cab, and told the driver to take me to the +faubourg where my mistress lived. I got out at the corner of a street, +two or three hundred yards from her house, and looked about for a +messenger. At last I spied one; he was a man fifty years old or more, +very dirty, and with the general aspect of a drunkard, but still the +probabilities were that he knew his business. I beckoned to him and led +him into a doorway. He tried to look cunning when he saw that he was to +carry a bouquet. I pointed out the house, and told him the number, then +said: 'There's no concierge; you must go to the rear of the courtyard, +where there is only one little door, at which you will ring. If the door +is opened by a man, or by an old woman, you will say simply: "Here's the +bouquet madame ordered of a flower girl, to be sent to her," and then +come away without another word; but if it's a young woman, then you will +say to her: "Here is the bouquet, madame; the gentleman who sent it is +at the corner of the street yonder," and listen carefully to what she +tells you to say to me. I will wait here for you. You understand! no +blundering!'—My messenger assumed his sly expression once more, and +replied: 'Never fear, monsieur; this isn't the first time I've carried a +bouquet.'—And off he went with mine. I followed him with my eyes. I +wasn't very easy in my mind, for the fellow looked so stupid that I was +afraid of some blunder. To begin with, I saw that he passed the house, +although I had pointed it out to him plainly<a name="vol_3_page_080" id="vol_3_page_080"></a> enough; however, after +going beyond it, he turned back and found it; he went in, and I waited. +After several minutes, which seemed painfully long to me, my man came +back with a self-satisfied air.—'Well,' I said, 'to whom did you give +it?'—'Two children, nine or ten years old, opened the door, monsieur; +one was a little girl, and the other a boy. "My little friends," I says +to them; "here's a bouquet somebody gave me for your mother; will you go +and tell her?"'—'Great God!' I cried; 'did I tell you that the lady had +children? Well?'—'Then, monsieur, a lady came.'—'Young and +pretty?'—'Not bad-looking, monsieur, according to my ideas.'—'It must +have been the old woman, then; what did you say to her?'—'I says: +"Madame, here's a bouquet that the flower girl hopes you'll accept; it +will give her great pleasure."—"What flower girl?" says the lady. "I +haven't ordered any bouquet. Where is the flower girl's stand?"—"Faith! +madame, the young man didn't tell me; but it's paid for; my orders are +not to take any money."'—'The devil take you!' cried I, as I dismissed +him; 'I shall know you again, and I'll never send you to carry another +bouquet.'—And, as it turned out, that brute was the cause of a terrible +scene between my little lady and her husband, which led to a rupture +between us. Moral: good messengers are rare in Paris. They try to show +so much intelligence that, if you hand them an unaddressed letter, and +say: 'You are to take this letter,'—they begin by grabbing it and +running off; and you have to call them back to tell them where to carry +it."</p> + +<p>"I have another charge to make, messieurs," said Célestin. "Monsieur +Tobie Pigeonnier is stuffing truffles into his pocket. I'm not surprised +that they disappear from his plate so fast."<a name="vol_3_page_081" id="vol_3_page_081"></a></p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! just because I've taken two or three.—Come, waiter! The +lobster—and the asparagus. Hot! hot!"</p> + +<p>"At what time do you go to your rendezvous?" asked Balivan.</p> + +<p>"Half-past eight."</p> + +<p>"You have time enough."</p> + +<p>"None too much; you see, I should like some dessert too."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I see that you don't propose to abandon your share of anything."</p> + +<p>"When a man has a good stomach, he ought to make use of it. If you play +bouillotte this evening, I'll come back and join you."</p> + +<p>"If we play!" cried Mouillot; "I rather think so—eh, Albert?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! I want my revenge."</p> + +<p>"Bouillotte to the death!" said Balivan, absent-mindedly eating +asparagus at the wrong end.</p> + +<p>"And afterward, messieurs," said Dupétrain, "I will magnetize you all."</p> + +<p>"Oh! he'll drive us mad with his nonsense! I say, Dupétrain, do you +magnetize your mistresses, when you have any?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly; I put myself in communication with them at once."</p> + +<p>"He communicates his magnetic fluid to them."</p> + +<p>"And as they confess, in the somnambulistic state, that they deceive +him, that vexes him, and he goes off and puts others to sleep."</p> + +<p>"Laugh as much as you please, messieurs!" rejoined Dupétrain, assuming a +solemn expression and resting his elbows on the table; "but if I should +tell you all the<a name="vol_3_page_082" id="vol_3_page_082"></a> extraordinary things that have been disclosed to me by +the power of magnetism, you would shudder from head to foot."</p> + +<p>"<i>Fichtre!</i>" exclaimed Tobie, returning to the lobster. "Faith! they +give you a good dinner here.—Is this story of yours very interesting?"</p> + +<p>"Well, well!" said Albert; "here's Tobie burning with the desire to +shudder from head to foot!"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you a single incident," replied Dupétrain, delighted to find +that Tobie paid some attention to what he said.—"A young woman, whose +husband was travelling——"</p> + +<p>At that moment, the waiter opened the door of the salon and said:</p> + +<p>"A messenger is here, asking for Monsieur Célestin de Valnoir."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Célestin, rising; "I'll go and speak to him."</p> + +<p>He left the room and found Jean Ficelle waiting on the landing; he +beckoned to the messenger, who said in an undertone:</p> + +<p>"First of all, my comrade Sans-Cravate went to the same house that I +did. I let him go first, as you told me; then I waited till he came out, +before I went in."</p> + +<p>"Very good. And he didn't see you?"</p> + +<p>"It was impossible. The lady wasn't in, but I found the maid, Mamzelle +Rosa, who told me where her mistress was—on Rue d'Angoulême, Boulevard +du Temple, calling on one of her friends. I went there and found her, +and gave her your letter. She read it, and then gave me this answer for +monsieur."</p> + +<p>With that, Jean Ficelle handed Célestin a letter. He tore it open, +hurried to a gas jet to read it, and seemed<a name="vol_3_page_083" id="vol_3_page_083"></a> satisfied with its +contents. Having put it in his pocket, he took out a two-franc piece and +handed it to the messenger, saying:</p> + +<p>"Here, this is for you."</p> + +<p>Jean Ficelle made a wry face as he took the coin, and muttered:</p> + +<p>"Only that much for going to Rue Neuve-Vivienne, then to Rue +d'Angoulême, and coming back here; it ain't very fat pay."</p> + +<p>"You rascal! I'll wager that the lady to whom you gave my letter paid +you, and paid you handsomely too; so that I really ought not to give you +anything."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur is too shrewd," replied Jean Ficelle, with a half-smile; +"there's no way of being sharp with him."</p> + +<p>"Off with you! keep your mouth shut, and I'll employ you again; when +you're paid at both ends, it seems to me that you ought to be +satisfied."</p> + +<p>"He's a skinflint, all the same!" muttered the messenger, as he went +away.</p> + +<p>Célestin returned to his friends.</p> + +<p>"The reply is evidently satisfactory," said Mouillot, scrutinizing his +face. "His eyes have the proud gleam of a victor already. Is your +Dulcinea very pretty?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! messieurs, it isn't what you imagine. It's important business."</p> + +<p>"Are you going to marry?"</p> + +<p>"No. It's some business on the Bourse. A little money to invest."</p> + +<p>"Oho! if you're going to be a millionaire, then you can afford to lose +at bouillotte.—The champagne frappé, waiter. Now is the time!"</p> + +<p>"Messieurs," said Dupétrain, with his elbows still on the table, "I was +about to tell you a very curious<a name="vol_3_page_084" id="vol_3_page_084"></a> anecdote.—A young woman, whose +husband was travelling, desired to know whether, when he was away from +her——"</p> + +<p>"Silence! No more stories! here comes the champagne!—Well, Albert, why +don't you drink? You are not in good spirits."</p> + +<p>"Because my messenger doesn't come," replied the young dandy, with a +sigh which he extinguished in a glass of champagne.</p> + +<p>"Nor mine, either," said Tobie; "but I don't care! he'll come in time. +Meanwhile, let us drink and laugh and sing! Champagne till we drop! They +treat you mighty well here."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you seem to be getting along very well," said the artist, with a +smile.</p> + +<p>"Spare yourself, Pigeonnier, my boy; or else you'll make a fiasco, in +spite of your letter of recommendation."</p> + +<p>"I! why I could drink champagne all day without getting drunk; I am so +used to it!"</p> + +<p>Again the waiter appeared, and said:</p> + +<p>"There's a messenger for Monsieur Albert Vermoncey."</p> + +<p>"Ah! it's for me this time!" exclaimed the young man, springing to his +feet. "I am coming! I am coming!"</p> + +<p>In a second he had left the room and joined Sans-Cravate, who came to +meet him, holding three letters in one hand and a single one in the +other, and who said, almost without stopping for breath:</p> + +<p>"I did just what monsieur told me: first, to the lady's house on Rue +Neuve-Vivienne. Not in; I left the letter. Then to monsieur's house, Rue +Caumartin. The concierge gave me these three letters. They smell good; +you'd think you had your nose on Bastringuette's tray. And then I went +back just now to Rue Neuve-Vivienne,<a name="vol_3_page_085" id="vol_3_page_085"></a> and they gave me this letter for +monsieur. That smells good, too."</p> + +<p>"A letter from her! Oh! give it to me, give it to me!"</p> + +<p>"Here's all of them; first, the three the concierge gave me."</p> + +<p>And Sans-Cravate handed Albert the letters he held in his left hand. But +the young man crumpled them up together and thrust them into his pocket; +then, hurriedly breaking the seal of the other one, which the messenger +had in his right hand, he stepped aside to read it unobserved, while +Sans-Cravate whistled a <i>cachucha</i> between his teeth.</p> + +<p>Albert had no sooner made himself acquainted with the contents of Madame +Baldimer's reply to his letter, than his face assumed an expression of +the most intense pleasure; he felt in his pocket and took out two +five-franc pieces, which he put in Sans-Cravate's hand, saying:</p> + +<p>"Here, Sans-Cravate; I am happy, and I want you to be happy, too."</p> + +<p>"Ah! thanks, bourgeois. <i>Crédié!</i> it's a pleasure to work for you; +you're very free with your cash. I am always at your service—day or +night—no matter what time; whenever you need me, I'll be ready. And if +you should be short of the needful, I'd work for you all the same; +because, you see, when I once get attached to people, it isn't just +selfishness that makes me work for them—it's the heart—it's——"</p> + +<p>"All right, my good fellow, thanks! Some day, perhaps, I shall put your +zeal to the proof. Go and enjoy yourself. I must return to my friends."</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, we are going to have rather a choice little spree!" cried +Sans-Cravate, as he went downstairs four at a time. "Bastringuette will +have a chance to let<a name="vol_3_page_086" id="vol_3_page_086"></a> herself go; she's so fond of good things to eat! +Three cart-wheels to spend: a tricycle! nothing less, by God!"</p> + +<p>While Sans-Cravate left the restaurant, singing at the top of his voice, +Albert returned to his place at the table.</p> + +<p>"Give me something to drink!" he cried; "champagne! let us play cards +and get drunk! I am in the mood now to do whatever you choose."</p> + +<p>"It seems that all the replies are favorable," said Mouillot.</p> + +<p>"Oh! very favorable!" rejoined Albert; "I make no secret of the fact +that there was a woman who was inclined to play the prude with me, and +with whom, of course, I was more in love than ever. But I have obtained +an assignation—a tête-à-tête, at last."</p> + +<p>"Oho! it's all settled, then."</p> + +<p>"An assignation for this evening?" queried Célestin, with an indifferent +air.</p> + +<p>"No, not until to-morrow. So I can pass the evening, and the night too, +with you. I am entirely at your service."</p> + +<p>"So much the better; we will have a hot game."</p> + +<p>"I shall win, for I am in a lucky vein."</p> + +<p>"That's not certain; lucky in love doesn't mean lucky at cards; the +proverb says just the opposite."</p> + +<p>"For my part, I believe that luck in one brings luck in the other. So +look out for yourselves to-night."</p> + +<p>"Messieurs," said Dupétrain, with his elbows on the table, and glaring +at each of his companions in turn, in order to attract their attention, +"I think that the time has come——"</p> + +<p>"To put us to sleep?" cried Balivan.</p> + +<p>"No; but to tell you about that extraordinary occurrence that I started +to tell you a moment ago."<a name="vol_3_page_087" id="vol_3_page_087"></a></p> + +<p>"I say, messieurs," said Mouillot; "we may as well let him tell his +story; if we don't, he won't give us a moment's peace this evening.—Go +on, Dupétrain; but if it lasts too long, you won't be allowed to finish +it."</p> + +<p>"Oh! messieurs, I am sure that the anecdote won't seem long to you; it's +too interesting for that.—A young woman had a husband, who was +travelling——"</p> + +<p>"You have already told us that three times."</p> + +<p>"This young woman was very desirous to know whether her husband, while +he was away from her——"</p> + +<p>"A messenger wants to speak to Monsieur Pigeonnier," said the waiter, at +the door.</p> + +<p>All the young men roared with laughter at the expression of Dupétrain's +face when he was interrupted for the third time at the beginning of his +story. But Tobie left the table, saying:</p> + +<p>"Excuse me a moment. Don't go on without me. I am coming right back."</p> + +<p>Paul was waiting for Tobie; he seemed very tired, and the perspiration +was still streaming from his face. But Monsieur Pigeonnier began by +saying to him:</p> + +<p>"It has taken you a very long time; you are very late; if I was a +messenger, I would move quicker than this."</p> + +<p>"It's not my fault, monsieur," Paul replied. "I went first to the Marché +du Temple, to see Madame Agar Abraham."</p> + +<p>"Speak lower, messenger, lower! Come to the foot of the stairs; there +are too many people passing here."</p> + +<p>They went downstairs, and Tobie led Paul into the farthest corner of the +courtyard.</p> + +<p>"Now, go on," he said; "I am listening."</p> + +<p>"I handed monsieur's letter to Madame Abraham."</p> + +<p>"Very good; where's the money she gave you?"<a name="vol_3_page_088" id="vol_3_page_088"></a></p> + +<p>"She gave me no money for monsieur; but after reading the letter, she +cried: 'My nephew is trying to make a fool of me! does he suppose that I +am going to support him in his extravagance? I won't lend him another +sou! not another liard! and if he don't pay what he owes me—— '"</p> + +<p>"All right! all right! that's enough! Madame Agar was jesting; in the +first place, I am not her nephew, but that's a favorite term of hers +that she applies to everybody; she even calls some of her lady customers +her nephews. I'll go and give her a lecture, to teach her not to be so +familiar.—Then you went to my concierge, Madame Pluchonneau, who made +haste to do what I wanted?"</p> + +<p>"She didn't make any too much haste, monsieur. In the first place, she +cried: 'If monsieur thinks I like doing such errands as this—carrying +his coat to the Mont-de-Piété—— '"</p> + +<p>"Hush! hush! not so loud! Those concierges are so infernally insolent. +It's very warm in my room, the sun shines into it all day; I don't need +to keep my winter clothes through the summer, for the moths to eat; and +then, I have so many clothes, I really don't know where to keep them. +Well?"</p> + +<p>"Well, monsieur, your concierge went on with her dinner and didn't show +the slightest zeal."</p> + +<p>"I'll have my landlord discharge her."</p> + +<p>"When she had finished her dinner, she went up to your room.—'If +monsieur sends to the Mont-de-Piété so often,' she said, 'I don't know +what he'll have left to cover his backside.'"</p> + +<p>"Backside! she didn't use that word, I trust?"</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, monsieur; I have repeated exactly what she said."<a name="vol_3_page_089" id="vol_3_page_089"></a></p> + +<p>"She'll pay dear for that. She shall not do my chamber work any more—I +mean, she shan't help my valet with my cooking. But let us skip these +details; they are eating the dessert without me."</p> + +<p>"At last, monsieur, your concierge did your errand. She was gone a very +long time; that's why I could not return any sooner, as you told me to +wait."</p> + +<p>"True."</p> + +<p>"She came back in a very ill humor, and gave me this for monsieur."</p> + +<p>And Paul handed Tobie two five-franc pieces and one of two francs.</p> + +<p>"Twelve francs!" he cried. "What does this mean? twelve francs for a +superb silk-lined paletot, with a velvet collar! Messenger, she must +have given you more than this."</p> + +<p>Paul repressed with difficulty an angry retort, and handed Tobie a slip +of paper, saying:</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur; there wasn't any more money, but she gave me this paper +with it, which will prove that I have handed you all that I received."</p> + +<p>The paper was the Mont-de-Piété ticket. Tobie read it, and muttered:</p> + +<p>"The Arabs! twelve francs! only twelve francs for a luxurious garment +which cost me a hundred and nineteen! However, I won't let them keep it +long, to teach them—— All right, my boy, all right!"</p> + +<p>And Monsieur Pigeonnier started to go away without paying the messenger. +He thought better of it, however, went back to Paul, and put a ten-sou +piece in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Here, my boy," he said; "here's your money."</p> + +<p>Paul glanced at the ten-sou piece, and could not refrain from saying:<a name="vol_3_page_090" id="vol_3_page_090"></a></p> + +<p>"What, monsieur! this is all you give me for more than three hours?"</p> + +<p>"Three hours! three hours! it isn't my fault if you make a job last +forever."</p> + +<p>"But, monsieur——"</p> + +<p>"I never give less than ten sous for an errand, and never more; it's +quite enough."</p> + +<p>"I did two errands for monsieur; I went first to the Temple, and——"</p> + +<p>"Well, well, all right! here—for God's sake, don't whine!"</p> + +<p>Tobie reluctantly took four sous more from his pocket and gave them to +Paul, then ran quickly up the stairs; while the young messenger, +evidently confused and humiliated by the way in which he had been +treated, walked slowly away from the Maison-Dorée.</p> + +<p>Tobie instantly resumed his seat at the table, and, to make up for lost +time, stuffed himself with biscuit, fruit, preserves and confections; +but, although he did full honor to the dessert, his face, when he +rejoined his friends, was very far from expressing the lively +satisfaction depicted on Albert's and Célestin's after their interviews +with their respective messengers.</p> + +<p>"This time," said Mouillot, "I fancy that the reply was not so agreeable +as on the two preceding occasions. Young Tobie does not appear perfectly +content. She no longer loves him!"</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," replied Tobie, filling his glass with champagne; +"on the contrary, she loves me too well."</p> + +<p>"It's very strange, but one would swear that you were annoyed. Don't lie +about it: your charmer has given you your walking ticket."<a name="vol_3_page_091" id="vol_3_page_091"></a></p> + +<p>"Not at all! but she's a horribly jealous creature, with whom I was to +dine to-day. I broke my engagement in order to join you, and she writes +me that it is plain that I no longer love her, and that she's going to +take poison; that alarms me a little, because she's quite capable of +doing as she says."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! you must have read it wrong; it's fish [<i>poisson</i>] that she's +going to take. Show us her letter."</p> + +<p>"Impossible, messieurs! I must respect her reputation."</p> + +<p>"I say! you're putting figs and raisins in your pockets now; do you like +them pocketed, too?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I was absent-minded; that devil of a woman! Why need she disturb my +enjoyment! Basta! I won't think any more about her. Another love awaits +me! Give me something to drink!"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Dupétrain, who had been coughing persistently for several +minutes to attract the others' attention, replaced his elbows on the +table, and began:</p> + +<p>"Messieurs, as the three messengers you were expecting have all come at +last and brought replies to your messages, and as you will not be called +away again, I think that this is an opportune time to tell you my +somnambulistic anecdote."</p> + +<p>The young men prepared to listen; and Mouillot drew his watch, saying:</p> + +<p>"I am going to see how long your story lasts; I warn you that I give you +only ten minutes. Look, Dupétrain, you see that it's eight twenty-five."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Dupétrain did not look at the watch, for he was already off.</p> + +<p>"A young woman, the wife of a man who was on a journey——"<a name="vol_3_page_092" id="vol_3_page_092"></a></p> + +<p>But at that moment, Albert, as if he suddenly recalled the plan he had +formed, cried:</p> + +<p>"Eight twenty-five! Well, Tobie, what about your appointment for +half-past eight? You have no time to spare, for the lady is not very +patient."</p> + +<p>Tobie sprang to his feet, delighted to have an opportunity to leave in a +hurry; without losing an instant, he threw down his napkin and seized +his hat.</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu!" he cried; "that is true; and I had forgotten it for the +moment. I must run. Excuse me, messieurs, but it is an adventure which I +should be very sorry to miss.—Pay for me, Albert; I haven't time to +wait for the bill."</p> + +<p>"Very well! Will you come back this evening, to tell us the result of +the interview?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure; and to play a game of bouillotte with you. Will you be +here?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Mouillot; "if we want to make a night of it, we had better go +to Balivan's; we shall be more at liberty there."</p> + +<p>"My studio is at your service, messieurs; with pipes of all sizes, from +all countries."</p> + +<p>"All right; then I will join you at Monsieur Balivan's."</p> + +<p>"You know my address? Rue Taitbout."</p> + +<p>"I know, I know! Au revoir!—By the way, Monsieur Dupétrain, please +don't tell your story till I come back."</p> + +<p>Dupétrain made no reply; he had taken his head in his hands and was +fascinating his plate. The young men laughed heartily, and Tobie +disappeared.<a name="vol_3_page_093" id="vol_3_page_093"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII<br /><br /> +<small>MADAME PLAYS.—THE SHOWMEN</small></h2> + +<p>Madame Plays was a woman of some twenty-five or thirty years, who looked +her full age, because she had a large and powerfully built frame, and +features in harmony therewith. But although women of that stamp seem to +attain at an early age the summer of their existence, they have the +satisfaction of retaining the aspect of that season when they are well +advanced in their autumn; that is a compensation which may fairly be +considered an advantage.</p> + +<p>Madame was a fine figure of a woman; not too tall, but perhaps somewhat +overdeveloped in the way of embonpoint; her outlines were still +graceful, however, and her broad, well-rounded hips showed that she did +not need to resort to artifice to imitate nature. A foot of medium size, +with a gracefully arched instep, a stout but well-proportioned leg, a +pretty arm, a soft, plump hand, with those taper fingers that seem +destined to touch none but pleasant things—so much for the body. A face +of a decidedly rustic type, but fresh and attractive; a large nose, a +large mouth with pretty teeth, brown eyes which promised many things, +and eyebrows which promised still more—so much for the features.</p> + +<p>As for her mind, no one ever mentioned it; it was regarded as absent. +She was all material and sensual; but she had had the tact to choose a +husband well suited to her. A man of forty years, stupid as an owl, but +in vigorous health; quite capable, when his wife was not<a name="vol_3_page_094" id="vol_3_page_094"></a> otherwise +provided, of fulfilling all the duties imposed upon him by his marital +office, and deeming himself very fortunate when madame deigned to permit +him to enter upon those duties. In a word, she led him by the nose, +deceived him every day, and did not allow him to dine out without her +permission.</p> + +<p>A single incident will suffice to elucidate Monsieur Plays's character.</p> + +<p>One day, one of his intimate friends met him a few steps from his home. +When he accosted him, he noticed that Monsieur Plays, who was usually +perfectly calm and placid, seemed somewhat excited, and that his eyes +were rolling from side to side with an unaccustomed expression.</p> + +<p>"I was coming to see you, Plays," said his friend; "but what's the +matter with you, pray? you seem rather excited."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Plays wiped his forehead with his handkerchief, and replied:</p> + +<p>"Faith! I have good reason; just listen. I went home just now, +unexpectedly, it is true, for I wanted to tell my wife that I have a box +for the Bouffes; I opened her bedroom door, without knocking, and I +found her—I found her—with one of my cousins—in a position—there was +no mistake about it—you understand, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, I understand perfectly. Well, didn't you do anything?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I went out again and slammed the door with all my might! They must +have seen that I didn't like it."</p> + +<p>And the adventure had no other consequences, except that when he next +appeared before his wife Monsieur Plays had a sheepish look, as if he +were ashamed of the way he had ventured to slam the door.<a name="vol_3_page_095" id="vol_3_page_095"></a></p> + +<p>Such was Herminie Plays's husband. He did a large commission business +and made a great deal of money; which was very necessary in his +household, as madame spent an enormous amount for her dress and her +pleasures.</p> + +<p>It was half-past eight o'clock. The weather was fair and warm, for it +was still summer; but the daylight was beginning to fade, and one had to +be very near a person to distinguish his features plainly.</p> + +<p>There was a large throng in the neighborhood of the flower market of the +Chaussée d'Antin—that is to say, beside the Madeleine. There were not +many flowers left; still there were enough to content the modest +purchasers who came late in order to pay less.</p> + +<p>For ten minutes, a woman dressed in the height of fashion had been +walking back and forth in front of the rosebushes, myrtles, and +orange-trees; sometimes she walked on the outer edge of the sidewalk, to +avoid the people who were examining the shrubs; but her glances ranged +over the whole market and its neighborhood; not a man passed without her +looking closely at him to make sure that it was not he for whom she was +waiting; you have already divined that the woman was Herminie Plays. +There was an impatient gleam in her eyes, for a rendezvous of this sort +was something to which she was not accustomed; and if Monsieur Albert +Vermoncey had not been a very fascinating young man, it is probable that +she would already have left the place.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a short, stout young man came toward her, walking as rapidly as +his little legs would allow. She saw him coming, but she was about to +turn her head away, for he was not the young man she was expecting, when +he halted in front of her and raised his hat, saying:<a name="vol_3_page_096" id="vol_3_page_096"></a></p> + +<p>"It is surely Madame Plays to whom I have the honor of wishing a +good-evening?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur. Ah! it is Monsieur Tobie Pigeonnier! I did not recognize +you at first—it is getting quite dark."</p> + +<p>"I recognized you at once, madame; but you have one of those figures +which it is impossible to mistake, and which attract one's eye +instantly."</p> + +<p>"You are too gallant, monsieur; but I beg your pardon—I am looking for +somebody, and I am afraid——"</p> + +<p>"Do not look for him, it is useless; he will not come—at least, not at +this moment."</p> + +<p>"What! what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"That I come from Albert Vermoncey, my intimate friend, who is prevented +by important business from joining you just yet."</p> + +<p>"What do you say? he has told you—why, that is very indiscreet on +Monsieur Albert's part. Really, men are a hundred times more garrulous +than women!"</p> + +<p>"That is true! O mon Dieu! how true it is!"</p> + +<p>"I trust that you do not believe——"</p> + +<p>"I believe only that Albert is very fortunate when he is with you."</p> + +<p>"That is too kind of you! but what did he tell you to say to me?"</p> + +<p>"To offer a thousand excuses—and then, to escort you to a place where +he will join us—a little later."</p> + +<p>"Ah! he will join us—and he has sent you to keep me company?"</p> + +<p>"If you will be good enough to accept the substitution."</p> + +<p>"This seems to me rather inconsiderate on Monsieur Albert's part. I +don't know if I ought to believe you."<a name="vol_3_page_097" id="vol_3_page_097"></a></p> + +<p>"Here's a letter which he gave me for you, so that you might have full +confidence in me."</p> + +<p>Madame Plays took the letter, opened it, recognized Albert's signature, +and tried to read it; but it was too dark, so she folded the letter and +put it in her bosom, saying:</p> + +<p>"I will read it later; but I see that Albert did really send you to me. +What a harebrained performance! it is characteristic of him! Well, where +are we to wait for him?"</p> + +<p>"I will escort you. Will you deign to accept my arm?"</p> + +<p>"I must. Oh! this is too absurd; but I can't help laughing at the idea. +Ha! ha! what a madman that Albert is!"</p> + +<p>Madame Plays took Tobie's arm, and leaned heavily upon it, because it +tired her to walk; but her cavalier did not complain; he mistook for a +tender pressure what was simply the result of the lady's embonpoint, +and, in his turn, he began thus early to press amorously to his side the +arm that was passed through his.</p> + +<p>Pigeonnier led Madame Plays toward the Champs-Élysées. He knew that he +would find in that direction an abundance of restaurants with private +dining-rooms. It was so late, that the lady had surely dined; and he was +not sorry for that, because he would have to regale her with ices or +punch only, which were much less expensive; he had already considered +all these little details. He preferred not to spend the twelve francs he +had obtained on his coat, for he wanted to keep something with which to +play bouillotte, hoping to win enough at that game to pay for his share +of the dinner.</p> + +<p>"Are you taking me to the Circus?" asked Madame Plays, when she saw that +they were going toward the Champs-Élysées.<a name="vol_3_page_098" id="vol_3_page_098"></a></p> + +<p>"No. That isn't where Albert is to meet us, but at a nice little +restaurant over yonder."</p> + +<p>"A restaurant! but I have dined!"</p> + +<p>"Really—you have dined? Ah! that's a pity; however, we can take +something all the same."</p> + +<p>"You act as if you weren't certain of the place where Albert is to meet +us."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon—look—that is the place."</p> + +<p>"What! under that mountebank's tent?"</p> + +<p>"No; behind it—that café. Yes, that's the place."</p> + +<p>Tobie led his charge into a sort of café, and told the waiter who came +forward to meet them to show them to one of the private rooms on the +first floor. Madame Plays did not seem at all alarmed when she heard her +escort ask for a private room. She was afraid of nothing; indeed, she +was strong enough to check any enterprise which did not please her. So +she followed with an assured step as the waiter led them upstairs, then +through a passageway, and opened the door of a small room looking on the +Champs-Élysées.</p> + +<p>"What can I offer you?" inquired Tobie of his charming companion; "ices, +punch?"</p> + +<p>"I will take an ice."</p> + +<p>"Very good.—Waiter, some ices."</p> + +<p>As the waiter left the room, Madame Plays exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Why don't you tell him that a gentleman will come and ask for us?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! yes, to be sure."</p> + +<p>And Pigeonnier ran out of the room, overtook the waiter in the hall, and +said to him:</p> + +<p>"Don't bring any biscuits or macaroons or cakes with the ices; madame +doesn't like any of those things; nothing but ices, you understand."<a name="vol_3_page_099" id="vol_3_page_099"></a></p> + +<p>"We always serve them with ices," replied the waiter, with an offended +air; "but you're not obliged to eat them."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but I tell you it isn't worth while to serve them."</p> + +<p>"Very well, monsieur."</p> + +<p>The corpulent young man danced back to the room in which he had left his +charge, who had removed her hat and shawl.</p> + +<p>"Excellent," said Tobie to himself; "she is making herself at home; she +made no fuss about coming to a private room, so I conclude that the +affair will go of itself."</p> + +<p>"What can we see from here, I wonder?" said Madame Plays, walking to the +window.</p> + +<p>"Oh! nothing attractive," said Tobie, who preferred that the window +should remain closed. "We are right above those travelling showmen, who +have set up their booth close to the house, and exhibit bears and +panthers and other monsters, I believe. If I were the proprietor of this +restaurant, it seems to me that I wouldn't have them so near."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said his fair companion, with a smile; "everybody must live, +must they not?"</p> + +<p>"Everybody, yes, but not monsters. On my word, I detest monsters—but I +idolize beauty."</p> + +<p>As Tobie concluded this sentence, he took Madame Plays's hand and +imprinted a kiss upon it; the charming creature allowed her hand to be +kissed without objection.</p> + +<p>The waiter brought the ices; as he placed them on the table, he looked +with amazement at the lady who did not like biscuits; he spent a long +time arranging the<a name="vol_3_page_100" id="vol_3_page_100"></a> ices and spoons, and when he had finished he did not +leave the room; so that Pigeonnier was obliged to say to him:</p> + +<p>"That's all right; when I want anything, I will ring."</p> + +<p>The waiter departed at last, and Tobie seated himself beside Madame +Plays, placed an ice in front of her, and said:</p> + +<p>"I trust that you will not be like this to me."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean? flavored with vanilla?"</p> + +<p>"No, no; I meant that—if you would not be like ice to me——"</p> + +<p>"Indeed! Is that what Albert told you to say to me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! but you know—when one's friends are not by—and one has a burning +heart—and one finds one's self beside such a charming woman——"</p> + +<p>The waiter suddenly opened the door and said:</p> + +<p>"I didn't bring any biscuits or macaroons, because madame doesn't want +any."</p> + +<p>"What! who told you I didn't want any?" demanded Madame Plays.</p> + +<p>"Why, monsieur——"</p> + +<p>Tobie's face became purple; he glared savagely at the waiter, and +interrupted him with:</p> + +<p>"What's that you say? what nonsense is this? I said: 'If your biscuits +aren't fresh, I don't want any; if your macaroons are old, keep +them.'—I do not wish to offer madame anything that is not—worthy of +her."</p> + +<p>"But, monsieur—just now, out in the hall, why—that wasn't——"</p> + +<p>"If you don't hear straight, it isn't my fault. Go! we have heard +enough; leave us."</p> + +<p>The waiter made no reply, but glanced at Tobie with a cunning +expression, as he left the room.<a name="vol_3_page_101" id="vol_3_page_101"></a></p> + +<p>"That waiter is an idiot," said Tobie, eating his ice; "he made me lose +the thread of my discourse."</p> + +<p>"So Albert is detained by important business? a rendezvous with some +other woman, perhaps? Doubtless you know all about it, as he confides +his most profound secrets to you. All men are villains when they are +together."</p> + +<p>"One thing is certain—that I am very happy; and as for his confidence, +I would willingly abuse it."</p> + +<p>"Upon my word, that is very pretty!"</p> + +<p>"Listen; if I had the good fortune to be in favor with so lovely a woman +as you, I wouldn't send a friend to stay with her during my absence."</p> + +<p>"It is true that that indicates——"</p> + +<p>"Vast self-conceit, or perfect indifference."</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! how you abuse your friend!"</p> + +<p>"The absent are always in the wrong; that proverb will be true as long +as the world lasts."</p> + +<p>"Do you think so? Perhaps I don't agree with you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! oh, yes! do agree with me! When one has eyes that——"</p> + +<p>Again the waiter opened the door, and entered the room with two dishes, +one filled with biscuits, the other with macaroons.</p> + +<p>"There! they are perfectly fresh," he said, as he put them on the table. +"Taste them. They were baked yesterday."</p> + +<p>Madame Plays burst out laughing, for Tobie's eyes were like pistols; +however, he dared not say anything, and the waiter was about to leave +the room, when Madame Plays, having finished her vanilla ice, called him +back.</p> + +<p>"Waiter, bring me a fruit ice; what fruits have you?"<a name="vol_3_page_102" id="vol_3_page_102"></a></p> + +<p>"We have strawberry, madame—and vanilla."</p> + +<p>"I know you have vanilla, as I have just eaten one. But I ask you what +fruit ices you have."</p> + +<p>"We have strawberry, madame—and vanilla."</p> + +<p>"I understand—you have nothing else."</p> + +<p>"I beg pardon, madame; we have mixed ices too."</p> + +<p>"What flavors?"</p> + +<p>"Strawberry and vanilla."</p> + +<p>"Bring me a strawberry, then.—And you, monsieur, won't you take a +strawberry ice?"</p> + +<p>This question was addressed to Tobie, who did his utmost to look pleased +as he replied:</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! I never eat more than one ice, myself. I shouldn't dream of +doing it. I have noticed that if you eat more than one, they are likely +to do you a lot of harm; they give you cramps in the stomach."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I could eat a dozen; I could eat them all day, without the least +bad effect."</p> + +<p>"The devil!" thought Tobie; "it's lucky they haven't anything but +strawberry and vanilla."</p> + +<p>The waiter went out and soon returned with the strawberry ice. Again he +busied himself arranging the plates and glasses and spoons, but he left +the room at last. Madame Plays attacked the strawberry ice, tasting also +the macaroons and biscuits.</p> + +<p>"The cost is climbing up," said Tobie to himself; "this woman eats a +great deal. If I don't divert her attention by making love to her, both +dishes will soon be empty. I have heard it said that women must always +have one sense at work. Let's try to give her something else to think +about."</p> + +<p>He drew his chair nearer to Madame Plays, looked her in the eyes, and +heaved a tremendous sigh. The fair<a name="vol_3_page_103" id="vol_3_page_103"></a> creature, who was of a very jolly +disposition, exclaimed, with a smile:</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! Monsieur Tobie, what's the matter with you? You make eyes at +me, and breathe so hard!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! madame—I see that Albert did very wrong to send me to you."</p> + +<p>"How so? do you repent of having conferred a favor on your friend?"</p> + +<p>"But if that favor deprives me of my repose, my happiness, my peace of +mind!"</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! you are joking. How is your repose endangered, pray?"</p> + +<p>At that moment, the showman, standing directly beneath the window of the +room occupied by Tobie and his charge, began to announce the performance +by tapping with a stick on a huge picture placed beside the entrance of +the booth. His voice was so shrill and penetrating that it was +impossible for persons in the private rooms not to hear every word he +said, even when they paid no attention; and the following dialogue +between the young man and his fair companion was necessarily interrupted +by the mountebank's periods:</p> + +<p> +<br /> +</p> + +<p class="hchar">T<small>OBIE</small> (<i>trying to take Madame Plays's hand</i>).</p> + +<p>You ask me how my repose is endangered. Is it possible that you have not +divined! Great God!</p> + +<p class="hchar">T<small>HE</small> S<small>HOWMAN.</small></p> + +<p>The show is about to begin, messieurs and mesdames; it is about to +begin.</p> + +<p class="hchar">M<small>ADAME</small> P<small>LAYS.</small></p> + +<p>Let alone my hand! you are sitting very close to me.<a name="vol_3_page_104" id="vol_3_page_104"></a></p> + +<p class="hchar">T<small>HE</small> S<small>HOWMAN.</small></p> + +<p>Now is the time! the time has come! the show is about to begin!</p> + +<p class="hchar">T<small>OBIE.</small></p> + +<p>Ah! I would like to be even closer. I would like——</p> + +<p class="hchar">T<small>HE</small> S<small>HOWMAN.</small></p> + +<p>Come in! come in! buy your tickets! there won't be enough for everybody!</p> + +<p class="hchar">M<small>ADAME</small> P<small>LAYS.</small></p> + +<p>That fellow is insufferable with his yelling!</p> + +<p class="hchar">T<small>OBIE.</small></p> + +<p>Oh! I am not listening to him. I think only of you, whom I adore. Ah! if +I could obtain a little corner in your heart!</p> + +<p class="hchar">T<small>HE</small> S<small>HOWMAN.</small></p> + +<p>There are seats for six sous, four sous, and some for two sous, for the +convenience of the public.</p> + +<p class="hchar">M<small>ADAME</small> P<small>LAYS.</small></p> + +<p>But, Monsieur Tobie, really I was very far from expecting this! My heart +does not give itself so quickly; and to win it——</p> + +<p class="hchar">T<small>HE</small> S<small>HOWMAN.</small></p> + +<p>Military men are admitted for half-price, and may keep on their spurs.</p> + +<p class="hchar">T<small>OBIE.</small></p> + +<p>Ah! if it were necessary to love you like Orlando Furioso, I am capable +of it. My love is boundless.</p> + +<p class="hchar">T<small>HE</small> S<small>HOWMAN.</small></p> + +<p>It is a wonderful, astounding, miraculous exhibition.<a name="vol_3_page_105" id="vol_3_page_105"></a></p> + +<p class="hchar">M<small>ADAME</small> P<small>LAYS.</small></p> + +<p>But how long have you loved me? It seems to have taken you all of a +sudden! I can hardly credit it. Pray, what is there about me that +attracts you so?</p> + +<p class="hchar">T<small>HE</small> S<small>HOWMAN.</small></p> + +<p>Curiosities such as were never seen in any part of the world.</p> + +<p class="hchar">T<small>OBIE.</small></p> + +<p>What is there about you, madame! You ask me that? Why, in my eyes, you +are a divinity!</p> + +<p class="hchar">T<small>HE</small> S<small>HOWMAN.</small></p> + +<p>An ostrich with a neck as long as a giraffe, who shows his tongue when +you don't ask him to.</p> + +<p class="hchar">M<small>ADAME</small> P<small>LAYS.</small></p> + +<p>Hush! you say as much to many other women, I am sure. Tell me, Monsieur +Pigeonnier, how many mistresses have you?</p> + +<p class="hchar">T<small>HE</small> S<small>HOWMAN.</small></p> + +<p>Three panthers, which perform all sorts of tricks.</p> + +<p class="hchar">T<small>OBIE.</small></p> + +<p>Mistresses! I have none! and if I had the good fortune to please you, +you would be to me——</p> + +<p class="hchar">T<small>HE</small> S<small>HOWMAN.</small></p> + +<p>A real camel, which is absolutely tireless, and stays on its back whole +days at a time.</p> + +<p class="hchar">M<small>ADAME</small> P<small>LAYS.</small></p> + +<p>Mon Dieu! how tiresome that man is! hasn't he nearly done? (<i>She nibbles +a biscuit.</i>)<a name="vol_3_page_106" id="vol_3_page_106"></a></p> + +<p class="hchar">T<small>HE</small> S<small>HOWMAN.</small></p> + +<p>This is the hour for feeding the animals.</p> + +<p class="hchar">T<small>OBIE.</small></p> + +<p>Oh! let me kiss that soft, white hand, let me caress that shapely arm.</p> + +<p class="hchar">T<small>HE</small> S<small>HOWMAN.</small></p> + +<p>This is the hour when the male camel plays all sorts of tricks on his +mate.</p> + +<p class="hchar">M<small>ADAME</small> P<small>LAYS.</small></p> + +<p>That clown sets my nerves on edge. What an idea to bring me here! Albert +isn't very considerate in his choice of a rendezvous. Oh! Monsieur +Pigeonnier, stop that; I won't allow you to touch my knees in that way.</p> + +<p class="hchar">T<small>HE</small> S<small>HOWMAN.</small></p> + +<p>Buy your tickets!</p> + +<p class="hchar">T<small>OBIE.</small> (<i>trying to put his arm round Madame Plays's waist</i>).</p> + +<p>What a graceful figure; you remind me of Venus.</p> + +<p class="hchar">T<small>HE</small> S<small>HOWMAN.</small></p> + +<p>There is still room inside; if you are pleased with the show, tell all +your friends and acquaintances.</p> + +<p class="hchar">M<small>ADAME</small> P<small>LAYS.</small></p> + +<p>Well, well! what are you doing, Monsieur Tobie? such presumption!</p> + +<p class="hchar">T<small>HE</small> S<small>HOWMAN.</small></p> + +<p>The curtain will rise in a moment, and you will see what you will see!<a name="vol_3_page_107" id="vol_3_page_107"></a></p> + +<p>At this point, Madame Plays rose with an impatient gesture, crying:</p> + +<p>"Oh! I cannot stand it any longer! such things as that clown says! they +are too hateful to listen to!"</p> + +<p>"He has finished; yes, he certainly has finished his announcement; that +noise means that the people are going into the booth."</p> + +<p>The booming of a bass-drum and several blasts of a bugle followed the +conclusion of the showman's speech. A few greenhorns and idlers entered +the booth; but most of the spectators walked away, being well aware that +what one sees at the door of such spectacles is always much more amusing +than the exhibition inside.</p> + +<p>Tobie took Madame Plays by the hand and led her back to her seat, for he +was eager to renew the conversation, which was just becoming +interesting. The fair dame made no objection, but said, as she resumed +her seat:</p> + +<p>"Albert doesn't come, and his behavior begins to have a very strange +look."</p> + +<p>Pigeonnier threw himself at her feet, crying:</p> + +<p>"Even so! if he doesn't come, that is an additional reason for you to +forget him, to take your revenge, to yield to me."</p> + +<p>Madame Plays seemed to hesitate, and somewhat abated her severity toward +the young man at her feet; but, as she was arranging her collar, her +hand came in contact with the letter she had placed in her bosom. She +took it out, saying:</p> + +<p>"By the way, I couldn't see to read Albert's letter, on the boulevard. +Let us see what he says, and in what terms he recommends you to me. +After that, I will decide whether I ought to listen to you."<a name="vol_3_page_108" id="vol_3_page_108"></a></p> + +<p>"Read it! read it!" cried Tobie, thinking that Albert's letter could not +fail to have an effect favorable to himself.</p> + +<p>Madame Plays read the letter to herself; but as she read on, her cheeks +flushed, her eyes shot fire, and her face assumed an expression of the +most intense indignation. To understand this change, we must remember +that the heedless Albert had written his letter while his friend +Mouillot was preparing the menu for their dinner. With no suspicion of +what he was doing, but thinking that he was writing only the sentences +which came into his mind, he had interspersed some of the dishes which +Mouillot mentioned aloud for the behoof of the company; the result was +an epistle thus conceived:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Charming creature, you know how dearly I love you.—For three, +that will be enough. Your image is constantly before me.—Calf's +head <i>en tortue</i>. To save you the annoyance of waiting for me at +our rendezvous, I send one of my intimate friends—perfectly fresh. +He will stay with you—with white sauce."</p></div> + +<p>Madame Plays did not choose to read any further; she crumpled the note +in her hands, threw it on the floor, sprang quickly to her feet, glaring +at Tobie with an expression he was utterly unable to understand, and +said to him in a voice that trembled with anger:</p> + +<p>"Do you know the contents of this letter, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"Do I know it! Why, certainly, dear lady; I dictated part of it to my +friend."</p> + +<p>"Ah! you dictated it, did you? Then you and your friend are a pair of +low-lived curs!"</p> + +<p>With that, Madame Plays dealt Tobie a blow that nailed him to his place +in utter stupefaction; then, seizing her<a name="vol_3_page_109" id="vol_3_page_109"></a> hat and shawl, which she +hardly took time to put on, the wrathful beauty rushed from the room, +not deigning to bestow a glance on the person she left there.</p> + +<p>Poor Pigeonnier did not stir for several minutes, he was so paralyzed by +what had happened to him. At last, he rose and began to pace the floor, +crying:</p> + +<p>"Ah! this is too much! a blow, because I handed her a letter of +recommendation; a blow, when, just before, she had let me touch her +knee, and—— It is inconceivable! And, with all the rest, I am out of +pocket.—Waiter! waiter!"</p> + +<p>The waiter appeared; the expression of his face was even more ironical +than before. Tobie had four francs fifty centimes to pay. He paid it, +sighing profoundly, and saying to himself:</p> + +<p>"If only I can win it back at bouillotte!"</p> + +<p>At that moment the showman began again, tapping the canvas with his +stick:</p> + +<p>"Walk in, messieurs, mesdames; you will see what you will see. Buy your +tickets! if you are not satisfied, you'll get your money back."</p> + +<p>"The devil take you!" muttered Tobie, as he left the room. "I am not at +all satisfied; I have spent money recklessly to-day, and I shan't get it +back!"<a name="vol_3_page_110" id="vol_3_page_110"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII<br /><br /> +<small>THE WINE SHOP.—SCENES AMONG THE COMMON PEOPLE</small></h2> + +<p>On the first floor of a wine shop on Rue Saint-Lazare was a room +containing several tables; the room was reached by a staircase, which +started from the shop itself and ended almost in the middle of the room +in question, which was frequented by drinkers who desired to be more at +their ease than was possible below.</p> + +<p>The room was ordinarily occupied by workmen, loafers, and an occasional +peddler. The workmen, after a laborious day, came to the wine shop to +take a modest meal and to rest their tired limbs; the others, after +idling the greater part of the day, came thither to spend a large part +of the night in the same occupation.</p> + +<p>Those who had done no work, and consequently had earned nothing, +generally spent the most money. Economy is almost always the companion +of toil; dissipation, of idleness.</p> + +<p>A journeyman mason sat at one of the tables, eating with evident +enjoyment a piece of cheese, washed down with a mug of wine; the +tempting invitations of his comrades were powerless to induce him to +spend another sou, for he was determined to save money and not remain a +mere journeyman all his days.</p> + +<p>Near by sat a carpenter, with a red nose, bloated face, and eyes +blinking with the vapors of wine; he had already emptied several +bottles, and, instead of going home to his waiting family, was all ready +to drink some more, inviting<a name="vol_3_page_111" id="vol_3_page_111"></a> his acquaintances and even strangers to +join him, in order to find an excuse for further tippling, aye, to spend +the last sou of the wages he had just received, and for which his wife +was waiting in order to buy bread for their children.</p> + +<p>At another table was a man about fifty years of age, with gray hair and +enormous whiskers, whose costume indicated no special profession. His +chin was buried in a piece of ticking, which served him as a cravat; he +wore a coat, but it was torn and patched and much too short for him; +trousers whose color was no longer distinguishable, fastened behind with +strings instead of buckles. On his head was a round hat, if the name can +properly be given to a piece of felt torn in several places, and with +only a few small fragments of brim. But all this did not prevent the +individual in question from carrying his head erect, scrutinizing +everybody who came in, drumming on the table with his knife by way of +accompaniment to the songs he sang under his breath, and, in a word, +making as much noise as many parties produced, although his repast +consisted of only a glass of beer and a piece of bread.</p> + +<p>Among the tables surrounded by customers, there was one at which a +supper was being served that aroused the envy of most of the other +occupants of the room: it was the table occupied by Sans-Cravate, his +mistress, and the other two messengers.</p> + +<p>The flower girl was seated beside Sans-Cravate, who ate, drank, laughed, +talked, sang, and served his guests with food and drink—all without a +moment's rest; at times, indeed, he succeeded in doing several things at +once.</p> + +<p>Mademoiselle Bastringuette did not seem to share her lover's merry +humor; she ate heartily, but spoke very little. From time to time, she +fixed her eyes on Paul,<a name="vol_3_page_112" id="vol_3_page_112"></a> who sat opposite her; but he always avoided +meeting them, the result being that he kept his own eyes on his plate +much of the time.</p> + +<p>Jean Ficelle sat opposite Sans-Cravate; he did honor to the supper, and +handled his knife and fork with great dexterity; but that did not +prevent his glancing constantly to right and left, and seeing everything +that took place in the room.</p> + +<p>"Who wants some rabbit—a little more of the <i>gibelotte</i>?" said +Sans-Cravate, helping himself from an enormous dish, in which the party +had already made a considerable breach. "No one speaks, so I help +myself."</p> + +<p>"Give me just a bit," said Jean Ficelle, passing his plate.</p> + +<p>"That's right!" cried Sans-Cravate, as he helped his comrade; "you're +all right, you are! You never lag behind at table. But Paul—what a +sluggard! he don't eat, he hardly drinks;—are you sick, my boy?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed," Paul replied, with a smile; "but I am not very hungry."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur has something on his mind, and that fills the stomach at the +same time!" muttered Bastringuette, sucking a bone.</p> + +<p>"Never mind," rejoined Sans-Cravate; "I don't propose to scold him, as +long as he came, although he don't seem to be enjoying himself any too +much with us."</p> + +<p>"<i>Dame!</i> we ain't in the dressmaking line, you know," said +Bastringuette, in a sarcastic tone; "we don't help dress the swells, we +don't spend the day in rooms with waxed and polished floors!"</p> + +<p>"Do I?" said Paul, glancing sternly at Bastringuette.</p> + +<p>"No; but you're acquainted with people that put on airs and wear gloves! +Upon my word," continued Bastringuette, with a sigh, "I've a right good +mind to change<a name="vol_3_page_113" id="vol_3_page_113"></a> my trade. I'm not going to sell flowers any more; I'm +going to fly higher."</p> + +<p>"And sell oranges, eh?" said Sans-Cravate.</p> + +<p>"Bah! better than that."</p> + +<p>"Herrings, then?"</p> + +<p>"What a fool! I tell him I'm going to rise in the world, and he wants me +to lower myself to herring! I'm going to be a trousers maker, and save +up money; save up money to buy a shop with. I sew well enough now, and +I've always had a liking for trousers; that's not surprising, as my +mother used to sell 'em under the pillars in the Market."</p> + +<p>"Well, don't you worry, sun of my heart; if I often have days like +to-day, I'll soon have enough nuggets to buy you a well-stocked shop."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" retorted Bastringuette, with a shrug; "all I've got to do is +depend on you! it's surprising how you save money; you don't even know +how to make people pay what they owe you——"</p> + +<p>"What's that? does anyone owe you money?" cried Jean Ficelle, gazing at +Sans-Cravate in amazement. "Do you mean to say you've got funds +invested? have you had a legacy without telling a friend anything about +it? Pass me some more rabbit, then."</p> + +<p>"No, no! do you pay any attention to what Bastringuette says? she's +talking about some people that I helped to move. There was mighty little +to move, and it didn't tire me much; and then, I'd sawed half a cord of +wood and done a few errands, so that they owed me six or seven francs, +perhaps—a magnificent sum!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! it's always like that," rejoined the girl. "Look you—it was +last winter; freezing cold, but bright sunlight, and I'd had an idea for +a long time that I'd like<a name="vol_3_page_114" id="vol_3_page_114"></a> to go by the railroad to Corbeil, and then +take a walk in the forest of Fontainebleau, where they say there's +snakes—and I'm very curious to see one, yes, and a big one, too; I've +never been afraid of the beasts. So I says to Sans-Cravate: 'You're +going to take me to Fontainebleau on the railroad, and we'll have a +little spree down there in the country, on the grass; it'll be a little +cold, but all the more fun for that; I like to eat and drink on the +grass. It's a long time since I've been in the country, and it'll do me +good.'—Sans-Cravate felt in his pocket, and found he had only five +francs. I says: 'That's a little scant to do things up brown on the +grass; we ought to have at least twice that. Let's see if there ain't +some way of getting some more cash.'—At that, he says: 'I've got some +customers that owe me something; among others that family that lives on +the fifth in Rue des Martyrs, that I moved six months ago.'—'Well,' I +says, 'if you wait any longer, they'll be moving again, and without your +help this time. Go and get your money; a poor messenger has the right to +ask for what's owing him, after six months.'—And I urged him so that he +decided to go there, but what do you suppose he did?"</p> + +<p>"Smashed everything to make 'em pay him," said Jean Ficelle; "at least, +that's what I'd have done."</p> + +<p>"Oh! no, you wouldn't," said Sans-Cravate; "if you'd seen the poverty of +those poor people, you'd have done just what I did, for you couldn't +have helped being touched. When I went into their room—they lived up +under the eaves—it was near six o'clock in the morning; I found the man +and his wife still in bed. They had old towels round their heads for +nightcaps, that made 'em look like Turks. They had no bedclothes but an +old<a name="vol_3_page_115" id="vol_3_page_115"></a> quilt all full of holes, so they'd piled all their clothes on the +bed—old dresses, a pair of trousers, and even old boots! all that to +keep 'em warm! And then, in a recess, there was the child's bed—a +pretty, red-cheeked little boy, two or three years old—I say, the bed, +but it wasn't one! Guess what the child was lying in—an old muff, with +hardly any fur left on it; they had stuffed the little fellow into that, +and then taken out the drawer of a commode and put him in it for a bed. +When he saw me come in, the man said: 'My dear friend, if you have come +for what I owe you, I shall have to ask you to be kind enough to wait a +little longer; for I've been out of work for a fortnight. We lie in bed +as long as possible, because we haven't got anything to make a fire, and +what is worse is that I don't know just now what we're going to +breakfast on to-day!'—I'd just like to know if I could ask those people +for money! I tried to comfort 'em a little, and then I went away."</p> + +<p>"That's very well, but he don't tell you the whole story," cried +Bastringuette; "he not only didn't ask 'em for what was owing him, but +he left on that poor man's mantelpiece the only five-franc piece he +owned; so, instead of bringing back twice what he had, so that we could +have some fun, he came back without a sou!"</p> + +<p>Paul seized Sans-Cravate's hand and shook it warmly, crying:</p> + +<p>"Ah! that was fine, Sans-Cravate! that was a fine thing you did! you +have a warm heart, you're a good fellow!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! <i>pardi!</i> what a fuss over nothing!" rejoined the messenger, filling +his glass; "of course, that little fellow in the muff had to have some +breakfast! My credit's good at the wine shop, you see, so I could +wait."<a name="vol_3_page_116" id="vol_3_page_116"></a></p> + +<p>"If all creditors acted like that," muttered Jean Ficelle, "trade would +be pretty bad.—I say, Laboussole, if your creditors gave you five +francs, that would suit you down to the ground, eh?"</p> + +<p>This apostrophe was addressed to the individual with the striped cravat, +who had long since finished his beer, but was still chewing his bread +and beating the table with his knife as if he were playing a drum. He +thrust out his chin toward his interlocutor, and replied with a +sprightly air:</p> + +<p>"I should be a millionaire! as it is, I'm strapped. What do you expect? +you see that every day! and I've known what it is to eat roast veal and +lettuce, and to drink all the wine I wanted. We all have our ups and +downs [<i>bas</i>]."</p> + +<p>"But he hasn't any stockings [<i>bas</i>], just now," murmured Bastringuette, +after a glance at Laboussole; "that fellow looks to me like an old +pickpocket."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said Jean Ficelle; "he's a man who used to have great +talent in his line. But, you see, he has had hard luck."</p> + +<p>"What was his line?"</p> + +<p>"He was an inspector at the Market."</p> + +<p>"The devil! that's a good place; why did he lose it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! they put up a dirty game on him—stuffed fish and chickens in his +pockets, and then said he stole 'em—a low-down trick, I say! One day, +when he had a salmon in one pocket and a turkey in another, they had the +cheek to arrest him and dismiss him for it."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't the man tell when he had fish about him?" said Bastringuette.</p> + +<p>"Apparently not; there's so much of it at the Market that you walk on +it."</p> + +<p>"All the same, his innocence looks to me almighty muddy! What does he do +now?"<a name="vol_3_page_117" id="vol_3_page_117"></a></p> + +<p>"He sells tickets for the <i>Belle-en-Cuisse</i> ball, on Rue des Martyrs, +near the barrier. But when there's no ball, he's <i>smoked</i>, and that's +the case to-day."</p> + +<p>"I say, old boy, won't you have a drink with us?" said Sans-Cravate, +raising his glass toward Laboussole, who accepted the invitation as soon +as he understood it, and brought his glass to the messengers' table, +saying:</p> + +<p>"I never refuse a drink of wine."</p> + +<p>Bastringuette made an angry gesture, and muttered between her teeth:</p> + +<p>"What a stupid fool that Sans-Cravate is! As if we wanted that old +fossil! But as soon as he has a shiner or two, he's for treating +everybody he sees; so he don't keep 'em long!"</p> + +<p>Paul seemed no better pleased than Bastringuette to be at the same table +with the ex-inspector, and he moved his chair away from that +gentleman's, who thereupon seized the opportunity to move close to the +table; and drawing toward him the dish of rabbit, in which only the head +remained, he began to lap it with his tongue, humming:</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"'When a man knows how to love and please,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .6em;">What other blessing does he need?'"</span></td></tr> +</table> + +<p>"Well, I think we'll have a little dessert," said Sans-Cravate; "we +mustn't stop at rabbit stew.—Come, Bastringuette, what do you want for +dessert?"</p> + +<p>"Sausage with garlic," replied the girl.</p> + +<p>"Agreed!—Here, waiter! four sausages with garlic, and see that they're +spiced in the good old style—no, five, for Laboussole will take care of +one—eh, old boy?"</p> + +<p>"I never refused a sausage," replied that individual, continuing his +perquisitions into every cavity of the rabbit's head.<a name="vol_3_page_118" id="vol_3_page_118"></a></p> + +<p>"Good God! you're eating the eyes!" cried Jean Ficelle, who was watching +Laboussole at work.</p> + +<p>"I'd eat yours, if you was stewed. I'm very fond of that tidbit."</p> + +<p>The sausages were brought. Each guest took one, except Paul, who +declared that he was not hungry. Whereupon Jean Ficelle assumed his +bantering air, and remarked:</p> + +<p>"They ain't sweet enough for him."</p> + +<p>And Bastringuette added:</p> + +<p>"Perhaps his skirt cutter don't like the taste of garlic!"</p> + +<p>"I say, comrade, you don't keep up your end!" cried Sans-Cravate, +forcing Paul to let him fill his glass. "Don't you enjoy being with your +friends?"</p> + +<p>"There's no doubt about it," said Jean Ficelle; "Paul's acting damned +queer. Anyone would say that it made him sore to be at the wine shop +with us."</p> + +<p>"Why do you attribute such thoughts to me?" rejoined Paul; "am I any +different from you two? What am I but a messenger, like you? As for the +wine shop, as I come here very seldom, it's not surprising that I don't +seem so much at home as you."</p> + +<p>"You say you don't come to the wine shop often?" cried Laboussole, +eating his sausage with great zest. "You make a mistake, young man; the +wine shop's the only place where one can enjoy life. It's the rendezvous +of good company. I'd like never to leave it, myself!"</p> + +<p>Paul made no reply, but turned his back on Laboussole, while Jean added +maliciously:</p> + +<p>"<i>Dame!</i> a man don't go to the wine shop when he can play the swell! and +I'm told that friend Paul has been seen now and then in a fine rig, with +a hat instead of a cap."<a name="vol_3_page_119" id="vol_3_page_119"></a></p> + +<p>"Oho!" cried Sans-Cravate, emptying his glass; "how's that, comrade, do +you play the swell now and then?"</p> + +<p>"It's all a mistake," murmured Paul, evidently annoyed by the question.</p> + +<p>"I've got good eyes, myself," said Laboussole, tilting his remnant of a +hat over one ear. "Yes, I saw our friend, not more than a week ago, in +the Marais, and he was dressed a good deal like a wholesale grocer."</p> + +<p>"Aha! aha!" said Bastringuette, fastening her great black eyes on Paul's +face; "are you a prince disguised as a messenger? It seems to me that +I've heard some such fairy tale as that. If that's so, and you want to +make my fortune, don't be bashful—I'll accept."</p> + +<p>"I am nothing more than I appear to be," replied Paul, with a sigh; "but +I have good eyes, too, and I saw monsieur in front of a game of chance +under Pont d'Austerlitz."</p> + +<p>The ex-inspector was evidently embarrassed, and tried to pull his hat +over his eyes; he glanced at Jean Ficelle and rejoined in a hoarse +voice:</p> + +<p>"That may be! What is there surprising in that? A man goes out for a +stroll, and stops in front of any show he sees. That's the way we sail +down the river of life."</p> + +<p>"Come, let's drink and sing!" cried Sans-Cravate. "What's the odds how a +man's dressed, or where he walks? Ain't we our own masters? ain't +liberty as much for one man as another?"</p> + +<p>"That's my opinion," replied Laboussole, holding out his glass, the +contents of which he swallowed with the facility of an Englishman +drinking champagne. "You're what I call a man, you are, Sans-Cravate! +and I'm your friend from this minute."<a name="vol_3_page_120" id="vol_3_page_120"></a></p> + +<p>"I don't doubt it!" muttered Bastringuette; "he's anybody's friend +who'll treat him—eh, Paul? Well, Cupid, why don't you answer, instead +of looking at the floor like a girl? Don't you know it's indecent not to +look at a woman when she speaks to you?"</p> + +<p>Paul seemed not to hear, and made no reply. As for Sans-Cravate, the +frequent bumpers he had drunk were beginning to excite his brain and +becloud his eyes. He did not notice the glances that his mistress +bestowed upon her vis-à-vis; but Jean Ficelle, who saw everything, +smiled malignantly as he muttered between his teeth, though loudly +enough for Sans-Cravate to hear:</p> + +<p>"What infernal traitors women are! If I had a mistress, I'd never take +her into company, unless there was nobody else there."</p> + +<p>"Well," observed the shabbily clad guest, attacking the sausage Paul had +refused, "business don't seem to be very bad, my friends, for your life +is watered with wine."</p> + +<p>"I had a good evening," said Sans-Cravate; "fifteen francs for one +errand!"</p> + +<p>"Peste! is it a duke and peer that you work for, my friend?"</p> + +<p>"No; but a young man who lives well! <i>Bigre!</i> that's the kind of a spark +I like. He's open-handed, I tell you!"</p> + +<p>"He ain't like mine," said Jean Ficelle; "he flung me a paltry two-franc +piece for trotting about more than two hours."</p> + +<p>"Mine gave me even less than that," said Paul; "and yet I had to wait a +long while in several places."</p> + +<p>"Ah! my patron's the boy for me," continued Sans-Cravate; "he's a jolly +fellow, and a good one, too! He<a name="vol_3_page_121" id="vol_3_page_121"></a> enjoys himself and wants other people +to do the same. Yes, he's a good fellow; let's drink to the health of +Monsieur Albert Vermoncey."</p> + +<p>"That's the talk! Here's to him!"</p> + +<p>"Well, Paul, aren't you going to drink?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not thirsty."</p> + +<p>"Does that prevent your drinking? Come on!"</p> + +<p>"No; I've no desire to get drunk."</p> + +<p>"Bah! what a soft-head! You're not a man, then; you're an old woman! As +if a man ever refused to drink with friends!"</p> + +<p>"No, no," said Jean Ficelle, who was doing his best to set Sans-Cravate +against his young comrade; "he insults us."</p> + +<p>"A man never refuses to drink," said Monsieur Laboussole, touching his +glass to Paul's; but the young messenger took his glass and threw it on +the floor, saying:</p> + +<p>"I don't choose to drink with you, I say!"</p> + +<p>The man with the shapeless hat seemed to view this rebuff with +indifference, and contented himself with the retort:</p> + +<p>"Young man, he who breaks glasses—you know the rest, don't you?"</p> + +<p>But Sans-Cravate, inflamed by the wine he had drunk, sprang to his feet, +crying:</p> + +<p>"<i>Sacrédié!</i> I don't like such manners myself, and if it had been +anybody else—— But you'd better not do it again, or——"</p> + +<p>"Well, what?" cried Bastringuette, rising also, and planting herself in +front of Sans-Cravate; "are we going to kick up a row? If we are, why, +I'll make more noise than you! Who ever heard of getting mad with a +friend<a name="vol_3_page_122" id="vol_3_page_122"></a> because he didn't want to drink? Ain't Paul his own master? For +my part, I say he's quite right not to get drunk like you people! When +you're drunk, you're just like brutes, you're good for nothing but +fighting; and if you think anybody loves you, why, you're damnably +mistaken!"</p> + +<p>"See how she takes his part!" exclaimed Jean Ficelle; "if you was in +love with the man, it wouldn't be any worse."</p> + +<p>"If I'm in love with anyone," retorted Bastringuette, "it ain't with +you, that's sure!"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate, who was getting more and more excited, and whose jealousy +was beginning to blaze under the influence of Jean Ficelle's hints and +malicious remarks, seized the girl's arm, as she stood beside him, and +shook her roughly.</p> + +<p>"It seems to me, also," he cried, "that you take up my comrade's defence +much too warmly! Do you know, I don't like that. Does it mean that +you're inclined to play tricks on me?"</p> + +<p>Bastringuette, with a violent wrench, released her arm from the hand +that held it; and snatching a plate from the table, held it over +Sans-Cravate's head, as if to strike him with it. Her face was pale, her +eyebrows drew together, her eyes flashed fire. There was in her wrath +something which embellished her features and almost imparted distinction +to them; everyone was impressed, and Sans-Cravate stood perfectly still, +apparently resigned to receive the threatened blow.</p> + +<p>"I ought to break this plate over your head," said Bastringuette; "yes, +that I ought, to teach you to shake my arm like that! If I still loved +you, I'd do it; but as I don't love you any more, I forgive you."<a name="vol_3_page_123" id="vol_3_page_123"></a></p> + +<p>As she spoke, she put the plate back on the table. Sans-Cravate glanced +at her with a disturbed expression, and said in a faltering tone:</p> + +<p>"Ah! you don't love me any more?"</p> + +<p>"No," rejoined Bastringuette, dwelling upon every word. "I am outspoken. +I don't propose to play tricks on you, as you seem to fear. But from +this moment I am not your mistress; I take back my liberty."</p> + +<p>"What! do you mean it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I don't make any mystery of it, you see; I say it right out before +everybody."</p> + +<p>"But——"</p> + +<p>"But what? We ain't bound together in such a way that we can't separate. +Would you rather have me do like the women in society? stay with you, +when I don't love you, and deceive you all day? That ain't my style."</p> + +<p>"If you don't love me any more, then you must love somebody else!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Pardi!</i> that's easy to guess!" muttered Jean Ficelle.</p> + +<p>"No matter who I love! it's none of your business! Love whoever you +please! I don't care a hair of monsieur's whiskers!"</p> + +<p>And the tall girl pointed to Laboussole, who smiled and caressed his +whiskers, saying:</p> + +<p>"All women don't talk that way."</p> + +<p>"Ah! so that's how it is!" cried Sans-Cravate, emptying his glass; while +Bastringuette resumed her seat at the table, apparently much calmer. +"All right! as you choose! To the devil with love, and women! Let's have +a drink, my friends; let's have a drink!"</p> + +<p>"But it's late," said Paul; "I hear them closing downstairs. Aren't we +going now, Sans-Cravate?"<a name="vol_3_page_124" id="vol_3_page_124"></a></p> + +<p>"Go, if you choose—I am going to stay, with my friends, with my true +friends!" retorted Sans-Cravate, glaring angrily at the young man.</p> + +<p>"No; you are going with me; you have had enough to drink; you mustn't +get drunk!"</p> + +<p>"What business is it of yours, if it suits me to get drunk? I'm my own +master, too. I haven't any woman now to bother me, and bore me to death. +<i>Crédié!</i> how I will make things hum now!"</p> + +<p>"That will be very pretty!" murmured Bastringuette. "He'll do some fine +things. For my part, I don't want anything more to do with men who make +beasts of themselves with drink! I prefer a sober lover—they're more +refined in their love making."</p> + +<p>"Drink! drink! more wine, waiter!" cried Sans-Cravate, determined to +befuddle himself still more, in order to avoid manifesting his chagrin +over his rupture with his mistress.</p> + +<p>"That's the talk!" said Jean Ficelle. "Sound men never sulk! Let the +maggoty ones go! we can do without 'em!"</p> + +<p>"O my friends!" cried Laboussole, in a sentimental tone, "when we are so +comfortable together, we mustn't think of separating; let's stay here a +week—what do you say? Good! we will!"</p> + +<p>Paul leaned over toward Bastringuette, and said in an undertone:</p> + +<p>"You are responsible for Sans-Cravate's getting drunk. He is drinking to +forget the grief you have caused him by telling him that you meant to +leave him! and it may result in some catastrophe."</p> + +<p>"What do I care? I'm done with him. I don't love him any more; I love +somebody else, and that somebody else is you."<a name="vol_3_page_125" id="vol_3_page_125"></a></p> + +<p>Paul drew back without replying. At that moment, they heard roars of +laughter in another part of the room, where the red-nosed carpenter, +surrounded by drinkers, was saying:</p> + +<p>"Yes. I'll bet I can do it. Yes, I say, I'll bet I can, and that nobody +else'll do it after me. Bah! you're a pack of cowards, you don't dare to +bet!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! there's Cagnoux up to his tricks!" said Jean Ficelle; "challenging +everybody, as usual."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate left his place and walked to the carpenter's table.</p> + +<p>"What is it you're going to do that the others won't do?" he asked. +"That's a pretty good one! Do you think there's no cocks here of your +size, Cagnoux?"</p> + +<p>"That's so," muttered Laboussole, emptying all the bottles into his +glass; "yes, we're up to anything, we are! you'd better not defy us."</p> + +<p>The carpenter, who was completely drunk, succeeded in getting on his +feet, nevertheless; and trying hard to stand without staggering, raised +an enormous glass and said:</p> + +<p>"You see this glass, don't you? holds a pint. Just fill it with brandy, +and I'll empty it at one draught; there ain't one of you smart enough to +do as much."</p> + +<p>"Parbleu! that's a wonderful thing," cried Sans-Cravate; "to drink that +glassful of brandy; that ain't very hard."</p> + +<p>"Sans-Cravate is quite capable of trying it," said Jean Ficelle, who +also had left his seat, to join the bystanders. "Yes, I know him; he'll +do it. If I hadn't a pain in the stomach, I'd do it myself."</p> + +<p>"I'll bet six quarts for the company that I'll drink that glassful of +brandy at one draught, without stopping for breath; do you take me, old +Cagnoux?"</p> + +<p>"Done!" replied the carpenter; "shake."<a name="vol_3_page_126" id="vol_3_page_126"></a></p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate stepped forward to take the hand that Cagnoux held out; but +that worthy, being unable to keep his legs any longer, fell back on his +chair, and the messenger's hand struck him on top of the head and +knocked his old cap over his nose. This episode was greeted with shouts +of laughter. The carpenter laughed with the rest, and, having extricated +himself from his cap, exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Bring the brandy, and, if he loses, I'll make the same bet."</p> + +<p>Thereupon Paul rose, and, paying no heed to Bastringuette, who asked him +if he would not go away with her, ran to Sans-Cravate and grasped his +hand.</p> + +<p>"Sans-Cravate, surely you're not going to take that bet. You are not +going to be crazy enough to drink that enormous glassful of brandy!"</p> + +<p>"Why not, I'd like to know?" rejoined the messenger, withdrawing his +hand. "If I choose to do it, is it any of your business? Go and court +Bastringuette, and leave us in peace!"</p> + +<p>"You know very well that I am not in love with your mistress."</p> + +<p>"Oh! she ain't my mistress any more; it's all one to me whether she's +yours or not."</p> + +<p>The tone in which Sans-Cravate spoke indicated that he was not so +indifferent as he claimed to be with respect to the flower girl's +becoming Paul's mistress; but the younger man tried to take his +comrade's hand again, saying:</p> + +<p>"Come, come, let's not say anything more about Bastringuette! Your +quarrel with her is none of my business; and, besides, you'll make it up +to-morrow. But I beg you not to drink that enormous quantity of brandy; +it is very dangerous; it may kill you!"</p> + +<p>"Bah! and if it does, I don't care!"<a name="vol_3_page_127" id="vol_3_page_127"></a></p> + +<p>"The bet is taken! it's too late to back out," said Jean Ficelle, +rubbing his hands.</p> + +<p>"Yes, a bet's a sacred thing," observed Monsieur Laboussole, who had at +last decided to leave the table, on which there was nothing more to +drink, and join the crowd around Sans-Cravate and Cagnoux. "I don't know +anything more sacred than a bet! Once I bet that I'd eat a tremendous +great fried carp, with all its bones. When I'd put down about +three-quarters of it, I found I was strangling; but I'd made the bet, so +I kept on. I tore my throat with a bone, and it was sore for six months; +but I won the bet, which was ten sous, and my honor was safe!"</p> + +<p>The waiter appeared with a huge measure of brandy; while he was filling +the mammoth glass, Paul went up to Sans-Cravate once more, and said to +him:</p> + +<p>"I am less excited than the others, and I am your friend; for heaven's +sake, listen to me!"</p> + +<p>"You're not my friend any more; besides, you broke your glass rather +than drink with me—I haven't forgotten that."</p> + +<p>"It wasn't you that I didn't want to drink with; it was Laboussole, and +you'll see later whether I was right or not."</p> + +<p>At that moment, there was a general cry of:</p> + +<p>"The glass is full! Come, Sans-Cravate, now's the time to show what +you're made of!"</p> + +<p>"Here I am!" replied the messenger, roughly shaking himself clear of +Paul's grasp and approaching the table on which stood the subject of the +wager.</p> + +<p>But Paul was too quick for him; he ran to the table, reached it first, +and with the back of his hand knocked the glass to the floor, where it +broke in a thousand pieces, and the brandy ran in all directions.<a name="vol_3_page_128" id="vol_3_page_128"></a></p> + +<p>The young messenger's act was followed by a growl of dissatisfaction and +menace. Some of the bystanders seemed to be dazed by the bare idea that +a man could make up his mind to waste such an enormous quantity of the +precious liquid; and Monsieur Laboussole, heedless of the danger of +staining his trousers, instantly dropped on all fours, and, putting his +tongue to the boards, tried to lap up a part of it.</p> + +<p>But Sans-Cravate, beside himself with rage and crazy with drink, rushed +at Paul and seized him around the waist, saying in a threatening tone:</p> + +<p>"That's an insult! You meant to keep me from winning my bet, but you've +got to give me satisfaction! We are going to fight, do you hear? Look +out for yourself, for I shall strike hard!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes!" shouted Jean Ficelle; "he insulted Sans-Cravate, he insulted +Cagnoux, he insulted all of us, by breaking that glass. He must have a +licking! we must give him a lesson! that will teach him to behave better +in a wine shop."</p> + +<p>And Monsieur Laboussole, still lapping the brandy on the floor, added in +a voice half stifled by his attitude:</p> + +<p>"We must beat him; or else make him pay for twice the quantity of brandy +for the company."</p> + +<p>Thereupon Bastringuette stepped into the midst of the men who surrounded +the young messenger, and, planting herself in front of him, cried:</p> + +<p>"Is the whole lot of you going to take sides against him? That's brave +of you—a dozen against one! I tell you not to lay a finger on him, or +I'll scratch all your eyes out!"</p> + +<p>But Sans-Cravate pushed the girl aside with a turn of his wrist.<a name="vol_3_page_129" id="vol_3_page_129"></a></p> + +<p>"He ain't going to fight any twelve men, but just me alone," he +said.—"Come on, are you ready?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied Paul, who had remained perfectly calm amid all the uproar, +"no, I won't fight with you."</p> + +<p>"Then you're a coward!"</p> + +<p>"I am not a coward. Let any other man come forward, and I'll agree to +fight with him; but not with you, Sans-Cravate, for you're out of your +head now, and to-morrow you'll be sorry that you struck your friend."</p> + +<p>"Ah! he's crawling! he's crawling!" cried Jean Ficelle. "He wants to +make us think Sans-Cravate has drunk too much."</p> + +<p>"I am the one you made a fool of by breaking that glass, and you've got +to fight with me!" repeated Sans-Cravate. "<i>Crédié!</i> come on, and have +done with it, or I'll knock you down!"</p> + +<p>The powerful messenger shook his fist at Paul, who remained unmoved and +seemed to have determined not to avoid the blow; while all the men who +stood about drew back to leave more room for the combatants, upon whom +every eye was fixed.</p> + +<p>But an unforeseen incident interrupted the scene. Heavy, measured steps +were heard in the wine shop below, followed by the sound of muskets +striking the floor; at the same instant, the waiter appeared at the top +of the stairs, with a terror-stricken air, crying:</p> + +<p>"The watch! here's the watch! they're coming up here!"</p> + +<p>"The watch!" muttered several of the bystanders; "what are they doing +here?"—"It isn't twelve o'clock."—"We have a right to drink."—"I +won't go away, for one."</p> + +<p>"They've come for something else," said the waiter; "there's two +detectives with the soldiers; they've come to arrest someone, I +suppose."<a name="vol_3_page_130" id="vol_3_page_130"></a></p> + +<p>The workmen and the drunkards seemed but little affected by the news. +But Monsieur Laboussole, who was still on all fours, crawled under a +table, although there was no brandy there.</p> + +<p>The soldiers and detectives came upstairs almost at the waiter's heels. +They entered the room, leaving two soldiers to watch the stairway.</p> + +<p>"Why in the devil do you come here and disturb us?" demanded +Sans-Cravate. "We've no business with you. I'd like to know if we ain't +at liberty to drink and sing, and quarrel a little too, if we want to?"</p> + +<p>The detectives, who had already scrutinized everybody in the room, did +not answer Sans-Cravate; but one of them went to the table under which +the ex-inspector of the Market had taken refuge, and dragged him forth +from his hiding-place by the legs.</p> + +<p>"This is the gentleman we're looking for," he said.—"Come, up with you! +you must go with us!"</p> + +<p>"Messieurs," cried Laboussole, trying to bury his nose in his cravat, +"this is a mistake, I assure you; I must be the victim of an unfortunate +resemblance. I know more than twenty men who look like me."</p> + +<p>"No, no, you're the man we want; come, off you go—and step lively!"</p> + +<p>"What are you arresting this man for?" demanded Sans-Cravate; while Jean +Ficelle pulled him by the jacket and whispered in his ear:</p> + +<p>"Defend him! thrash the curs! you're strong enough."</p> + +<p>"Because he's a thief!" replied the detective, pushing Laboussole toward +the stairs.</p> + +<p>Paul glanced at Sans-Cravate, who turned pale and neither moved nor +spoke. The word <i>thief</i> had sobered him in an instant.<a name="vol_3_page_131" id="vol_3_page_131"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX<br /><br /> +<small>A STUDIO PARTY.—A FETICH.—THE BURGUNDIAN</small></h2> + +<p>It is very disagreeable to be disappointed in one's expectations; but +the disappointment is especially keen after an amorous rendezvous: you +have dreamed of happiness in its most seductive form; your imagination +has conceived the most touching pictures, the most gratifying +situations. All these thoughts have heated your brain and your +mind—when you have one—and your passions at least, in default of a +mind; and when all your anticipations result in nothing at all, you beat +a retreat in dire distress, like the crow in the fable. But if, instead +of the kisses that you hoped to steal, you have received a blow, you are +quite justified in being vexed and angry, as well as distressed.</p> + +<p>It is said that a blow from a woman's hand does no harm; doubtless +because, being often dealt in obedience to a hasty impulse, it is +followed by repentance, and the recipient is accorded the privilege of +earning another. But take a sharp, stinging blow, and nothing more. I +doubt whether the fact that it was delivered by the loveliest of women +and the prettiest hand would make it welcome to you.</p> + +<p>You will say, perhaps, that Madame Plays had not given young Pigeonnier +a rendezvous. True; but she had accepted his escort, she had consented +to go to a private dining-room with him; and those concessions, in the +judgment of discerning persons, would be tantamount<a name="vol_3_page_132" id="vol_3_page_132"></a> to giving her +consent that he should take Albert's place in every respect.</p> + +<p>The little fellow reflected profoundly, as he walked from the +Champs-Élysées to Rue Taitbout; he walked very fast, for one rarely +moves slowly when intensely excited.</p> + +<p>"Can it be that Albert didn't write what he dictated to himself?" he +thought. "I ought to have read his letter before delivering it. Can he +have written some insulting thing about her? Was it a deliberate scheme +to make a fool of me? <i>Fichtre!</i> if I knew that, he'd hear something +more from me! I don't propose to be made a guy of!"</p> + +<p>In his excitement, the young man brandished his beautiful gold-headed +cane, as if he proposed to break somebody's head; and in his +gesticulations he came within an ace of knocking off the hat of a +respectable lady, its somewhat exaggerated brim happening to be directly +under his cane as he imitated the exploits of a drum-major. Luckily, the +ribbons tied under the lady's chin prevented the hat from falling, and +it was simply thrown back on her shoulders. But the gentleman who was +with the lady, and who was indignant that a passer-by should presume to +knock his wife's hat off with a cane, walked up to Tobie, and said to +him in a threatening tone:</p> + +<p>"I say, monsieur, what sort of a performance is this? You threaten us +with your cane! You nearly put my wife's eye out, and you knocked off +her hat, which would have fallen into the street if it hadn't been for +the ribbons!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! monsieur, madame, a thousand pardons!" stammered Tobie; "I was so +preoccupied—I didn't see you."</p> + +<p>"What! are we dwarfs?"</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur—far from it; you are very tall. But when a man is +thinking about something else——"<a name="vol_3_page_133" id="vol_3_page_133"></a></p> + +<p>"That's a fine reason! We were thinking of something else, too, +monsieur. Do you suppose we were thinking of your cane? By heaven! if +you had destroyed my wife's eye, you wouldn't have taken your own home +with you!"</p> + +<p>"I am sure of it, monsieur; I ask a thousand pardons."</p> + +<p>"When you carry a cane, monsieur, you ought to know how to use it."</p> + +<p>"It was because I thought that I was using it that I was gesticulating +with it."</p> + +<p>During this colloquy the lady had readjusted her hat; and she drew her +husband away, saying:</p> + +<p>"Come, my dear; as monsieur did it accidentally, let's accept his +apologies."</p> + +<p>"Accidentally! upon my word, it would be very pretty if he had intended +to do it! By all the devils! if I believed that——"</p> + +<p>And the gentleman, becoming more and more enraged as he became more +convinced of his adversary's terror, began to grind his teeth and act as +if he proposed to fall upon Tobie; but Tobie was already far away; he +had taken to his heels, trying to thrust his cane into his pocket, as a +means of avoiding any further disaster.</p> + +<p>This incident calmed the young man's excitement.</p> + +<p>"I cannot accuse Albert," he said to himself, as he reached the +painter's door; "I have no proofs. I ought to have picked up the letter, +when Madame Plays threw it on the floor. I'll go back to the café +to-morrow and ask the waiter if he found it. Meanwhile, I won't be such +a donkey as to tell what happened to me, for they would laugh at me +unmercifully. On the contrary, I must make them think that my triumph +was complete."<a name="vol_3_page_134" id="vol_3_page_134"></a></p> + +<p>Balivan lived on Rue Taitbout, in the same house as young Elina and her +aunt. His apartments were on the third floor; he had three small rooms, +and a studio which was large enough for him, as he painted nothing but +portraits.</p> + +<p>Several times, as he was returning home, the young artist had met the +little dressmaker going to her work; and he had been impressed by her +beauty. Knowing that she was his neighbor, he had tried to form an +acquaintance with her, and had proposed to paint her portrait, if she +would be his model for a study which he intended to exhibit at the +Salon. But Elina had declined his offers, and had always refused to +enter the painter's studio. And yet, it is a very pleasant thing to have +one's own portrait. How many women and girls allow themselves to be +allured by such an offer, by the desire to see their faces at the Salon, +and to have an opportunity to listen to the compliments certain to be +lavished upon them. What joy to say to their companions in the workroom: +"My portrait is at the Salon; I represent an Italian peasant—a Swiss +peasant—and a wood nymph. The painter insisted on putting my face in +all his pictures."—Elina, too, had been tempted; but she had resisted +the temptation. To be sure, Balivan was very ugly.</p> + +<p>The artist's studio was lighted by a lamp placed on the stove; its rays +fell upon a full-length portrait of a very pretty woman in a ball dress, +and upon the head of an old soldier, whose nose was not finished; +scattered here and there, on the floor, or hung on the walls, were +various canvases, in all stages of completion, from the merest sketch to +the finished portrait. Some plaster busts, easels, a manikin in female +dress, sketches, and several portraits<a name="vol_3_page_135" id="vol_3_page_135"></a> refused admission to the Salon, +or by the persons for whom they were painted, and relegated by the +artist to the darkest corners of the studio, combined to give a unique +aspect to the apartment.</p> + +<p>Four young men, seated around a table in the middle of the room, were +enjoying with great zest the pleasures of bouillotte. On a small table, +close at hand, stood an enormous salad bowl filled with blazing punch; +and glasses, pipes, cigars, tobacco pouches, and even snuffboxes, were +scattered over another small table of Chinese lacquer, which had +momentarily deserted the artist's salon to embellish his studio.</p> + +<p>When Tobie appeared, the card table was occupied by Albert, Célestin, +Mouillot, and a young man, who was not of the dinner party at the +Maison-Dorée, but had joined the band of roisterers when they left the +restaurant, and had asked for nothing better than to pass the night with +them at bouillotte.</p> + +<p>This young man, who was the possessor of an insignificant and utterly +expressionless face, had hair so light that it was almost white, and +eyebrows of the same color, which gave him some resemblance to an +albino; still, in spite of that, he might have been considered a +good-looking fellow enough, if his manner had been less indolent; but he +had about twelve thousand francs a year, which his family permitted him +to consume in Paris; the result being that in society, and especially +among the high livers, Monsieur Varinet's company was much sought after. +Not that he was amiable and jovial in society: he was always cold and +impassive, and not even wine had the power to enliven him; but he spent +his money with the same indifference which he displayed in every other +action of his life; and he would lose large sums at cards without any<a name="vol_3_page_136" id="vol_3_page_136"></a> +sign of emotion. All his friends esteemed him highly on that account.</p> + +<p>Gold and silver were scattered over the table, and the animated air of +the players indicated that the game was beginning to be warm.</p> + +<p>Balivan himself was filling the glasses with punch, and Dupétrain sat in +front of the manikin dressed as a woman, which he seemed to be +scrutinizing with care.</p> + +<p>"Ah! here's Tobie! <i>Vive Tobie!</i>" cried the artist, as Pigeonnier +entered the room. And, despite their absorbing interest in the game, the +card players joined in the cry:</p> + +<p>"Here's Tobie! Here's that Don Juan of a Tobie!"</p> + +<p>The young man with white eyebrows was the only one who said nothing; he +contented himself with saluting the new-comer, as one salutes a person +with whom he is but slightly acquainted.</p> + +<p>"Yes, messieurs, it's I," said Pigeonnier, wiping his forehead. "You are +well started already, I see. I speak for a place."</p> + +<p>"You can come in with Balivan," said Célestin. "There are six of us now; +two will go out on the quarter-hour."</p> + +<p>"And Monsieur Dupétrain?"</p> + +<p>"Who ever heard of Dupétrain playing cards? Upon my soul, I believe he's +trying to magnetize my manikin!"</p> + +<p>"Well, Tobie," said Albert, "what news of our fair one? Are you content? +Did she accept the substitution with a good grace?"</p> + +<p>"I am perfectly content!" Pigeonnier replied, trying to assume a +triumphant swagger. "She didn't seem at all angry over the adventure; +she treated me very kindly."</p> + +<p>"Good—I understand. So everything went as you wished, eh?"<a name="vol_3_page_137" id="vol_3_page_137"></a></p> + +<p>"In other words, it is impossible for me to be happier than I have +been."</p> + +<p>"What did I tell you?"</p> + +<p>"You're not attending to your game, Albert," said Célestin.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am. I have opened."</p> + +<p>"I take all bets."</p> + +<p>"Done!"</p> + +<p>"You're stuck! I have <i>misty</i>."<a name="FNanchor_C_3" id="FNanchor_C_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a></p> + +<p>"What infernal luck! That makes four hundred francs I've lost +already!—I say, Balivan, give me some punch, to drown my loss."</p> + +<p>"Give me a cigar, Balivan."</p> + +<p>"Balivan, you promised me your Moorish pipe; you are going to give it to +me, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Pass me your tobacco pouch, will you?"</p> + +<p>"One moment, messieurs, I can't do everything; I'm going to call my +lady's-maid, on condition that you treat her with respect.—Hallo, +there, Crevette!"</p> + +<p>"Is Crevette your servant's name?" inquired Tobie, helping himself to +punch.</p> + +<p>"Yes, she's a Burgundian; she had a name that I didn't fancy—it was +Cateau!<a name="FNanchor_D_4" id="FNanchor_D_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_4" class="fnanchor">[D]</a> You understand that, when I had a lady of fashion here, I +couldn't say: 'Cateau, come and take off madame's shawl. Cateau, go and +call a cab.' To talk constantly of Cateau before my models, too, was +imprudent. So I asked my Burgundian for her family name, and she's a +Crevette."</p> + +<p>The Burgundian answered her master's summons. She was a robust young +woman, with plump red cheeks, and<a name="vol_3_page_138" id="vol_3_page_138"></a> enormous hands and arms of the hue of +boiled lobster. She laughed readily enough at the somewhat décolleté +jests which the young men addressed to her; but when their words were +reinforced by gestures, the Burgundian made free use of her hands, and +the lightest tap dealt by her was equivalent to a hard blow with the +fist.</p> + +<p>"Bring us something to drink, Crevette."</p> + +<p>"Punch?" said the Burgundian.</p> + +<p>"Beer for me, my chubby wench!—Isn't she fresh, though! and solid!"</p> + +<p>"Come, come! down with your paws! I won't have you touching me!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! what a calf she must have!—Crevette, show me your leg, just up to +the garter, and I'll give you half of my winnings."</p> + +<p>"No, I won't show you anything."</p> + +<p>"Parbleu! that's a magnificent offer of his, to give you half of his +winnings! he's lost ten napoleons already!"</p> + +<p>Young Tobie, who had swallowed three glasses of punch in succession in +order to attain the level of the rest of the company, softly approached +the servant and seized her leg while her back was turned; but the +Burgundian, without putting down her tray, instantly brought her elbow +back against his nose, crying:</p> + +<p>"Let that teach you to pinch me! I'm going to bed—I won't come into +your studio again, monsieur; your friends are too enterprising."</p> + +<p>Crevette vanished; Tobie put his hand to his nose and seated himself in +a corner, muttering:</p> + +<p>"I won't fool with her any more; there's no feeling in my nose."</p> + +<p>"Poor Tobie! but he can't seem to get enough. He comes here fresh from a +delicious tête-à-tête with a<a name="vol_3_page_139" id="vol_3_page_139"></a> charming woman, and he must needs begin at +once on a servant! What an omnibus seducer!"</p> + +<p>"What would he do, I wonder," said Balivan, "if he should see my little +neighbor overhead?"</p> + +<p>"You have a pretty neighbor, have you?" queried Albert.</p> + +<p>"Charming! Seventeen years old at most, I judge; a fascinating figure! +and a saucy, mischievous face—with innocence, grace, and modesty in her +glance. Seriously, she's one of the prettiest grisettes I ever saw."</p> + +<p>"Send for her!" cried the young men in chorus.</p> + +<p>"Make her come down, Balivan."</p> + +<p>"Shall I go up and fetch her?" asked Tobie, taking his hand from his +nose, which was badly swollen by the blow he had received.</p> + +<p>"I will magnetize her; she will enjoy that," said Dupétrain.</p> + +<p>"No, messieurs," said Balivan, "there's no way of inducing her to come +here. Parbleu! if it could be done, I'd ask nothing better. I have +offered again and again to paint her portrait and give it to her—to +paint her in any costume she chose."</p> + +<p>"Even as Eve, if she wanted you to, eh?"</p> + +<p>"All my offers have been declined. She's a virtuous young woman, it +would seem. She lives with her aunt, and never goes out except to her +work; she's a dressmaker."</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha!" laughed Célestin; "she's a dressmaker, and you haven't +triumphed over her, my dear fellow! Others may succeed better; and if I +should take a hand——"</p> + +<p>"Oh! you are such a superb creature, it's quite possible. Still, I doubt +it."</p> + +<p>"What do you want to bet?"<a name="vol_3_page_140" id="vol_3_page_140"></a></p> + +<p>"Come, attend to your game, messieurs, for God's sake!" said Mouillot. +"Sapristi! I have <i>misty</i>, and not one of you stands!"</p> + +<p>"Monsieur had <i>brelan</i>, and he passed!" cried Tobie. "What a blunder!"</p> + +<p>"Not at all. Do you think we're playing <i>brelan</i>?"</p> + +<p>"You're not playing <i>brelan?</i> Why, aren't you playing bouillotte?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but the <i>brelan</i><a name="FNanchor_E_5" id="FNanchor_E_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_5" class="fnanchor">[E]</a> is never played in bouillotte, nowadays. Where +have you been, young Pigeonnier?"</p> + +<p>"What do you play, then?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Misty.</i>"</p> + +<p>"What's <i>misty</i>?"</p> + +<p>"The knave of clubs with two cards of the same color and same size; for +instance, two red nines, or two black aces."</p> + +<p>"Very well. And the <i>brelan</i> doesn't count, you say?"</p> + +<p>"Not unless <i>misty</i> isn't out; in that case, it's good."</p> + +<p>"And the <i>brelan carré</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! that's always good, and it beats <i>misty</i>."</p> + +<p>"The devil! I'm rather mixed up with all this; I'm afraid I shall make +mistakes."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! you'll get hold of it in a minute."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Dupétrain walked up to Tobie, who was standing by the card +table, and said:</p> + +<p>"While you're not playing, I can tell you the anecdote about magnetism +that you were so curious to hear. After you left the dinner table, I +didn't choose to tell it; I preferred to wait for you.—A young married +woman, whose husband had just started on a journey——"<a name="vol_3_page_141" id="vol_3_page_141"></a></p> + +<p>"Excuse me," said Tobie, "but I am studying <i>misty;</i> I don't quite +understand this new way of playing bouillotte, and I shall be very glad +not to make any mistakes. Besides, the quarter has struck, messieurs. +Who goes out?"</p> + +<p>"Mouillot and Célestin.—Come, messieurs, give up your seats."</p> + +<p>"We'll just finish the <i>volante</i>, then we'll go."</p> + +<p>"The <i>volante</i>?" exclaimed Tobie; "what in the deuce is that?"</p> + +<p>"Each person puts in a chip when everyone passes, and you keep putting +in one as long as they pass."</p> + +<p>"The devil! that may mount up pretty high, messieurs! why, you are +playing an infernal game!"</p> + +<p>"Does it frighten you, Monsieur Tobie?"</p> + +<p>"I don't say that. What's the stake?"</p> + +<p>"Five francs."</p> + +<p>The stout youth felt in his pocket, where he found only enough for one +stake and half of another. However, he assumed a self-assured air as he +took the seat vacated by Célestin, while the artist replaced the jovial +Mouillot.</p> + +<p>"Célestin has made his little pile!" laughed Albert.</p> + +<p>"I? oh, no! I have made myself good, that's all!—Come, Balivan, to +return to your pretty neighbor,—do you want to bet my portrait that I +don't succeed in seducing her?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. But let us understand each other: if I lose, I'll paint your +portrait for nothing."</p> + +<p>"Just so."</p> + +<p>"But if I win?"</p> + +<p>"Then I'll pay you for the portrait."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! what a generous youth! Where do I gain anything in that, I +wonder?"<a name="vol_3_page_142" id="vol_3_page_142"></a></p> + +<p>"Messieurs," said Mouillot, "I'll bet something much more agreeable for +the company. I'll bet that I get the little neighbor to come down here."</p> + +<p>"Ah! that's something like."</p> + +<p>"You said that she lived overhead, Balivan?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Very good! just give me a hammer; I'll demolish the ceiling, and then +the fascinating grisette will fall through."</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! a famous method!"</p> + +<p>Young Tobie, who had already lost his stake, and had taken money from +the pool to make up the second one, was no longer in the mood for +laughing.</p> + +<p>"I say, messieurs," he cried, "just because you're not playing now, you +prevent other people from playing. Leave us in peace, will you? I have +lost a pile of money already. I keep making mistakes; I have <i>misty</i>, +and don't see it."</p> + +<p>"Bah! a pile of money! he's lost his stake once."</p> + +<p>"Besides, my dear fellow, a man can't expect luck in everything. You +have just come from a tête-à-tête in which a pretty woman has crowned +you with myrtle! you can afford to lose your money."</p> + +<p>Tobie bit his lips in vexation and made no reply.</p> + +<p>"And then, too, he pinched Crevette's leg!" laughed Mouillot.</p> + +<p>"And he has a swollen nose," added Célestin. "The fellow is lucky on all +sides.—Some punch, messieurs?"</p> + +<p>"With pleasure. I bet twenty francs."</p> + +<p>"I take it," said Tobie.</p> + +<p>"And I. Show down."</p> + +<p>The hands were placed on the table. Monsieur Varinet, who had followed +Tobie, had <i>misty</i>; but the stout<a name="vol_3_page_143" id="vol_3_page_143"></a> youth, who had three aces, pounced on +the money, thinking that he had won. His white-eyebrowed antagonist +checked him with the utmost coolness, saying:</p> + +<p>"What are you doing? don't you see that I have <i>misty</i>?"</p> + +<p>"And don't you see that I have three aces?"</p> + +<p>"Your three aces amount to nothing, as we're not playing the <i>brelan</i>."</p> + +<p>"Oh! mon Dieu! I had quite forgotten that; I never thought of it! It's a +mistake, messieurs; the hand ought to be thrown out."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said Albert; "you must pay attention; besides, you might +have won with your three aces, if you hadn't run against a <i>misty</i>. +Come, pay up, my dear fellow. Parbleu! you're not so badly off! you're +less than thirty francs to the bad."</p> + +<p>"Thirty francs fifty, and now I've lost my stake again! This is very +fine!"</p> + +<p>"Ingrate! after being so lucky in love, not to be willing to be unlucky +at play."</p> + +<p>"I don't see the necessity of losing all the time."</p> + +<p>"Think of Madame Plays, and complain if you dare!"</p> + +<p>Young Tobie made a wry face every time Madame Plays was mentioned, and +he looked furtively at Albert, muttering between his teeth. After +feeling in all his pockets, he feigned an air of astonishment, saying:</p> + +<p>"Well, well! I haven't any more money."</p> + +<p>"You must have discovered that before," suggested Balivan, "as you have +already taken some from the pool."</p> + +<p>"Ah! yes, of course.—Will you lend me three or four napoleons, Albert?"</p> + +<p>"I would with the greatest pleasure," Albert replied; "but I am out more +than five hundred francs myself, and I have had to borrow. Put up a +fetich, that's the simplest<a name="vol_3_page_144" id="vol_3_page_144"></a> way—put a sou, a key, anything you please, +in front of you, and call it worth any amount you choose."</p> + +<p>"True, you are right; I'll put up a fetich."</p> + +<p>Tobie felt in his pocket; he produced one of the olives he had stored +there at dinner, and placed it in front of him, saying:</p> + +<p>"That stands for five hundred francs!"</p> + +<p>The painter roared with laughter.</p> + +<p>"Rather high-priced olives!" he said.</p> + +<p>"I'm not surprised that he filled his pockets with them; he must have +taken at least ten thousand francs' worth," cried Mouillot. "Come, who +wants some punch? I'll fill the glasses. By the way, I don't see our +magnetizer. Where's Dupétrain? Has he gone?"</p> + +<p>"Probably," said Balivan. "He never plays, and, seeing that there was no +hope of telling us his story, perhaps he has gone home to bed, to try to +put someone to sleep."</p> + +<p>"What's your pretty neighbor's name?" inquired Célestin, stretching +himself out on a couch.</p> + +<p>"My neighbor? Wait a minute—I go the limit."</p> + +<p>"I take it," said Tobie, rolling his eyes about in a high state of +excitement. "I take all bets."</p> + +<p>"All right."</p> + +<p>Tobie showed a <i>misty</i>; but Balivan had a <i>brelan carré</i>.</p> + +<p>"You told me just now that <i>brelans</i> didn't count!" cried the little +fellow.</p> + +<p>"True, except <i>brelans carrés</i>; they always beat everything."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, I don't understand anything at all about it; it's enough to +drive a man mad! I don't know what I am playing."</p> + +<p>"Come, pay me. You're very lucky, for I bet almost nothing—only +twenty-one francs."<a name="vol_3_page_145" id="vol_3_page_145"></a></p> + +<p>"A man can ruin himself with such luck. Here, change this for me; it +stands for five hundred francs."</p> + +<p>Tobie offered his olive; but Balivan shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I haven't enough money to change it for you, you can see that for +yourself. You owe me twenty-one francs."</p> + +<p>A few moments later, Tobie lost fifteen francs to Monsieur Varinet, who +had a heap of gold and silver in front of him. He offered him his +fetich, saying:</p> + +<p>"Oblige me by giving me the change for this; it will make it easier for +me to pay."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Varinet took the olive and placed it in front of him, and +handed four hundred francs in gold and eighty-five in silver to Tobie, +who seemed to take great pleasure in receiving the change for his olive, +and, while pretending to arrange it in piles, seized the opportunity to +slip several gold pieces into his pocket.</p> + +<p>"You owe me twenty-one francs," said Balivan.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! How the five hundred francs melts away! It will soon be gone."</p> + +<p>"Oh! you have a good margin!"</p> + +<p>"Isn't it time for us to give up our seats?"</p> + +<p>"We don't go out next; it's Monsieur Varinet's turn and Albert's."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I thought it was ours."</p> + +<p>"Of course not, as we have just come in."</p> + +<p>Tobie seemed very anxious now to leave the table; but he was obliged to +remain, while Célestin and Mouillot took the places occupied by Albert +and Varinet. The latter carefully bestowed the olive in his fob.</p> + +<p>"I must make sure not to lose that," he said; "it's as good as a +banknote. If I should take it into my head to eat it, it would be rather +expensive."<a name="vol_3_page_146" id="vol_3_page_146"></a></p> + +<p>"I've lost six hundred francs," said Albert; "but I don't care a damn; +for I trust that the proverb will come true in my case as in Tobie's, +and then I shall be lucky in love to-morrow! Ah! how I wish it were +to-morrow! and it's only half-past twelve."</p> + +<p>"Half-past twelve!" cried Tobie. "Mon Dieu! I said nothing to my +concierge, and I'm horribly afraid I shan't be able to get in."</p> + +<p>"You can pass the night here."</p> + +<p>"Sleep away from home! No, indeed! Besides, I have an appointment at my +rooms early to-morrow; and when I don't get a few hours' sleep, I'm +always sick a week."</p> + +<p>"What in the devil's the use of such a man as that!" said Mouillot; "for +my part, I always sit up as long as anyone wants, I drink as much as +anyone, and I make love as much as anyone; and I'm always well!"</p> + +<p>Albert was walking about the studio; he paused in front of the different +portraits of women, and said:</p> + +<p>"What lucky dogs these painters are! When they have a pretty woman for a +model, they have a right to look at her as often and as long as they +please; to order her to smile; and to put her in whatever position they +like best!"</p> + +<p>"It's a very voluptuous profession!" said Tobie, glancing constantly at +Balivan's watch, which had been placed on the table in order to regulate +the coming-in and going-out of the different players.</p> + +<p>"Well, messieurs, it seems to me your game is rather slow," said +Varinet, walking up to the table.</p> + +<p>"Parbleu! Tobie keeps passing with superb hands," cried Balivan. "It +would seem that he doesn't want to resort to another olive."</p> + +<p>"I am waiting for a lucky streak. Ah! now it's time for us to go out."<a name="vol_3_page_147" id="vol_3_page_147"></a></p> + +<p>Pigeonnier hastily left his seat, and Balivan was obliged to do the +same, but he did it unwillingly.</p> + +<p>"We had at least half a minute more to stay," he said. "Tobie left too +soon."</p> + +<p>"Quarter to one!" cried the stout youth, with a glance at the clock. +"Mon Dieu! Madame Pluchonneau, my concierge, is very hard of hearing."</p> + +<p>Balivan seized Tobie's arm as he was edging toward the door while making +a pretence of examining the pictures, and led him back to the punch +table.</p> + +<p>"Come and have a drink," he said.</p> + +<p>"But I've drunk a great deal already."</p> + +<p>"All the more reason. Will you smoke?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, with pleasure, if you'll get me one of your foreign pipes."</p> + +<p>"They're right here; I don't need to leave the studio; wait a moment, +and I'll fill one for you."</p> + +<p>Tobie, who had hoped that the painter would leave him, and had proposed +to seize the opportunity to steal away unperceived, was obliged to +remain; and he wandered about the studio with a very preoccupied air.</p> + +<p>"There, smoke that, and tell me what you think of it," said the painter, +offering the young man a narghile of enormous length. "That was Ali +Pacha's pipe."</p> + +<p>"The devil! suppose my smoking it should make me a savage beast like +him! Never mind, I'll take the risk. But how am I to light it? it isn't +at all easy, the bowl's so far away."</p> + +<p>"You put a candle on the floor, and then hold the pipe to it."</p> + +<p>"All right."</p> + +<p>Tobie took one of the candles from the card table, and put it on the +floor.<a name="vol_3_page_148" id="vol_3_page_148"></a></p> + +<p>"I beg pardon, messieurs," he said; "but I want it to light Ali Pacha's +pipe."</p> + +<p>He had no sooner put the bowl of the pipe, the stem of which he held in +his mouth, to the flame of the candle, than there was a loud report, +like a pistol-shot, the pipe bowl burst, the candle was tipped over, a +dense smoke filled the studio, fragments of pipe flew in all directions, +and Tobie narrowly missed swallowing a piece of the stem, which stuck in +his throat an instant after the report.</p> + +<p>He fell backward to the floor. Everybody was dismayed for a moment, but, +after the first fright, roars of laughter arose on all sides, except +from the direction of Tobie, who was still gagged, as it were, by the +fragment of pipe stem.</p> + +<p>"What infernal kind of tobacco is that?" cried Mouillot.</p> + +<p>"Balivan must have had a fit of abstraction," said Albert.</p> + +<p>The artist put his hand to his head, and looked in the drawer from which +he had taken what he supposed to be tobacco.</p> + +<p>"Great God!" he exclaimed. "I see what the trouble is. My infernal +pupils insisted on making cartridges this morning for a rifle I wanted +to try; one of those that load at the breech. I didn't notice that I was +taking powder instead of tobacco. Poor Tobie! I am terribly distressed. +Well, well! what in the devil's the matter with him?"</p> + +<p>Tobie could not speak, but he pointed to his mouth, which was wide open, +and made up a pitiful face. They went hastily to his assistance, and +with a small pair of pincers removed the piece of stem which had stuck +between his tongue and his windpipe, like the sound-post of a violin.<a name="vol_3_page_149" id="vol_3_page_149"></a></p> + +<p>"<i>Sacrédié!</i>" ejaculated Tobie, as soon as he could speak; "what an +outrage! to give me a pipe filled with powder! That's a mighty poor +joke, messieurs! it might have killed me! I think very highly of Ali +Pacha's narghile!"</p> + +<p>Balivan had much difficulty in pacifying the little man, and making him +understand that when he filled the pipe he was thinking of something +else, which prevented his noticing what he filled it with. Tobie was +beginning to recover from his fright, and the game of bouillotte was in +progress once more, when shrill cries were heard in the direction of the +kitchen, and Balivan recognized his maid-servant's voice.</p> + +<p>"Has Crevette also been trying to smoke one of Ali Pacha's pipes?" said +Mouillot.</p> + +<p>"Let us go and see what the trouble is!"</p> + +<p>"Let us hasten to succor the Burgundian!"</p> + +<p>All the young men hurried after Balivan, Tobie alone excepted; he took +advantage of the confusion to leave the house, overjoyed to carry away +the change for his olive.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the painter had reached the kitchen, where he found no one; +thence he passed into a small, dark room, where his servant slept, and +there he discovered Mademoiselle Crevette, with no other clothing than +the one garment which Englishwomen blush to name, holding the magnetizer +Dupétrain down on the floor, and pounding him vigorously with her fist, +shouting the while:</p> + +<p>"Ah! you villain! just look at this joker! My faith! that was a fine +idea of his! to come into my room while I was asleep, to do—I don't +know what! Luckily, I was only asleep with one eye, and I stopped him +just when<a name="vol_3_page_150" id="vol_3_page_150"></a> he'd made up his mind I was too warm, I suppose, for he was +pulling off my bedclothes."</p> + +<p>They succeeded, not without difficulty, in rescuing Dupétrain from the +Burgundian, who would have liked to go on beating him; but when she +realized that she was standing before all those young men in her +chemise, she suddenly jumped back toward her bed; being, however, a +little heavy for gymnastic exercises, she fell sidewise on the mattress, +thus exposing the roundest part of her person to the assembled company.</p> + +<p>"Bravo! magnificent!" they exclaimed, clapping their hands. "Come, +Crevette, just one more jump! you do it so well! What a full moon! We +shall have a fine day to-morrow!"</p> + +<p>The Burgundian was furious; she seized her pitcher and held it up in the +air.</p> + +<p>"If you don't clear out of my room, I'll throw it at your heads!"</p> + +<p>Balivan, who knew that she was quite capable of doing what she +threatened, succeeded in pushing them all out of the room, and they +returned to the studio.</p> + +<p>"Aha! Monsieur Dupétrain," said Mouillot, "you are a sad rake, it +seems."</p> + +<p>"That's a very neat trick," said the painter; "we thought you had gone +home, and you had stolen into my servant's room!"</p> + +<p>"He wanted to magnetize her, no doubt."</p> + +<p>"Messieurs," said Dupétrain, decidedly embarrassed, "I swear to you that +this is nothing of any consequence, and that the Burgundian rustic +misapprehended my intentions. For what did I propose to do? simply make +an experiment in magnetism on that dull, brutish temperament. I said to +myself: 'If I can succeed in putting that<a name="vol_3_page_151" id="vol_3_page_151"></a> countrywoman into a trance, +what an extraordinary proof it will be of the power of my art!'"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and he took off Crevette's bedclothes, so that he could see that +dull temperament."</p> + +<p>"Messieurs, to put myself in communication with a subject, it is +necessary——"</p> + +<p>"Enough! we don't want to hear any more. To the card table!"</p> + +<p>"Why! someone is missing," said Mouillot.</p> + +<p>"That's so. Tobie isn't here. Can he have gone away? It isn't possible."</p> + +<p>They searched the studio, thinking that he had hidden, to play a trick +on them; but they found that he had really gone.</p> + +<p>"Oh! he'd been itching to go for a long while," said Balivan.</p> + +<p>"Yes, ever since he changed his fetich."</p> + +<p>"That's a very convenient dodge," observed Mouillot; "he had at least +four hundred and fifty francs left of the change for his olive, and he's +gone off with it.—Varinet, you have a fetich of very doubtful value."</p> + +<p>Varinet calmly wrapped the olive in a piece of paper and put it back in +his pocket.</p> + +<p>"Do you think that that young man is capable of leaving this pledge in +my hands?" he said. "I believe that he will come to my house to redeem +it."</p> + +<p>"Oh! he'll redeem it," said Albert; "I have no doubt of that."</p> + +<p>But Célestin shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he will," he murmured; "but he's quite capable of forgetting +his debt, and I fancy you'll have to remind him of it. Don't lose your +fetich."<a name="vol_3_page_152" id="vol_3_page_152"></a></p> + +<p>"For my part," said Mouillot, "I wouldn't give three francs for that +olive."</p> + +<p>The young men resumed their game, after saying good-night to Dupétrain, +whom Balivan escorted to the landing, to make sure that he did not +mistake his road and return to make another attempt to put his servant +in a trance.</p> + +<p>For an hour longer, the game was very brisk. At the end of that time, +Albert, who had lost twelve hundred francs, threw himself on the couch, +saying:</p> + +<p>"I've had enough, messieurs; I am going to sleep here till daylight."</p> + +<p>The other four young men continued the game for some time. At last, +Célestin, who had won largely and had no desire to lose what he had won, +pretended that he too was sleepy, and lay down on the divan. Mouillot, +Balivan, and Varinet played on for a considerable time, until Balivan, +having lost heavily, left the table, saying:</p> + +<p>"I am going to bed."</p> + +<p>"Now it's between us," said Mouillot to the young man with white +eyebrows; "a <i>brûlot</i>."</p> + +<p>"What! can two play bouillotte?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! and it's very interesting. It's for the one whose turn it is +to bet, to speak; if he sees nothing in his hand, he puts in a chip, and +the other does the same. It's a game you can play a long while without +saying a word, as you pass very often."</p> + +<p>Varinet consented to play; but Mouillot, who was decidedly lucky at +two-handed bouillotte, and who played a very shrewd game, soon won all +his opponent's money; Varinet had nothing left but the olive, and he +proposed to stake that; but Mouillot, who was not anxious to win it, +preferred to follow the example of the others and<a name="vol_3_page_153" id="vol_3_page_153"></a> take a little nap. He +lay down beside Célestin on the divan.</p> + +<p>The young man with white eyebrows reclined in an easy-chair, and soon +everybody was asleep in the artist's studio, where the most absolute +quiet had succeeded the noisy outbursts of merriment engendered by the +fumes of the punch.</p> + +<h2><a name="X" id="X"></a>X<br /><br /> +<small>THE LOFT</small></h2> + +<p>After the scene in the wine shop, the habitués had retired one after +another, Paul among the first; but before he went away, he had glanced +at Sans-Cravate with an expression which bore not the slightest trace of +ill humor for the latter's threats; on the contrary, it seemed to +suggest the hope that a hand would be offered as a sign of +reconciliation. Sans-Cravate apparently hesitated for a moment; but Jean +Ficelle whispered in his ear, and he turned away without a word to the +young messenger.</p> + +<p>Paul slept very little that night; because he was thinking, not of what +had happened at the wine shop, but of what he had to do the next +morning. The thought that he was going to see Elina, that he was going +to pass some time with her, filled his heart with the keenest joy in +anticipation. The girl's face was constantly before his eyes; to think +about a woman whom one loves is much better than sleeping; waking dreams +are often very sweet; for one shapes them according to his own +pleasure;<a name="vol_3_page_154" id="vol_3_page_154"></a> while those which come to us during our sleep are not always +rose-colored.</p> + +<p>The clock had just struck half-past five, when Paul pulled the copper +bell knob of the house in which Elina lived with her aunt. Nobody +answered the bell, and the young man was obliged to ring twice more; for +the concierges of the Chaussée d'Antin do not rise so early as their +brethren of the Marais. The door was opened at last by an old fellow, +who passed his head, swathed in several cotton nightcaps, through a +little, round window, and asked in a wrathful tone:</p> + +<p>"Who is it who has the effrontery to ring my bell at this time of day? +Who do you want to see? No one's up?"</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, monsieur," said Paul; "I am going up to Mademoiselle +Elina's, to help her move; and she must be up, for she herself asked me +to come at half-past five."</p> + +<p>"Bah! this is interesting!" snarled the concierge. "Some of 'em are up +at daybreak, others don't go to bed at all, but pass the night playing +cards and raising the devil! It was outrageous, the way they acted last +night; the noise they made in that dauber's studio. I wonder when +they'll turn that fellow out of the house."</p> + +<p>Paul did not stay to listen to the concierge's reflections; he had +already started upstairs, and he soon reached the door of Madame +Vardeine's apartment. He coughed softly, and the door was opened at +once, for Elina was already up and waiting for him; perhaps, indeed, she +had slept no more than he.</p> + +<p>If, gentle reader, you are surprised that a young and pretty dressmaker +should have a tender feeling for a mere messenger, you must remember +that in Paul's manners<a name="vol_3_page_155" id="vol_3_page_155"></a> and language there was none of the coarseness +generally characteristic of those of his calling; that he had received a +good education, through the kindness of a generous benefactor; that he +had performed the duties of clerk for a considerable time; and, lastly, +that, although circumstances had forced him to resort to the <i>crochets</i> +of a messenger, he had not chosen to adopt the habits of his confrères: +that he did not frequent wine shops, to which his visit of the previous +evening was his first, and that his language was still as refined and +agreeable as his voice.</p> + +<p>"Here I am, mademoiselle," said Paul, saluting the young woman awkwardly +enough; for nothing makes a man so awkward as a first love, especially a +man who does not make a business of seduction. It is not so with women: +love almost always makes them more charming and attractive; by +augmenting their desire to please, it heightens the charms they already +possess and sometimes gives them others which had not previously been +detected in them. "I have come too early, perhaps; did I wake you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! Monsieur Paul," the girl replied, with a pleasant smile. "I +have been awake a long time, and was waiting for you. Come in, but don't +make any noise, for my aunt is still asleep, and I should be very glad +if she could find everything done when she wakes."</p> + +<p>The messenger followed Elina into the apartment, and she showed him the +little room which she occupied.</p> + +<p>"That's all the furniture I have," she said; "a cot-bed, a walnut +wardrobe, this little desk, and a chair; but I'm afraid it's too much +for a loft. However, I should like to get it all in, if I could; for the +wardrobe was my mother's and the little desk my father's, and with those +two pieces it seems to me as if I wasn't quite an orphan—as if papa<a name="vol_3_page_156" id="vol_3_page_156"></a> +and mamma were still here looking out for me. I think one is so +fortunate to have something that used to belong to one's parents. Why, I +wouldn't sell those two things for all the gold in the world! And yet, +they're old and out of fashion; my aunt said once that the wardrobe +wasn't good for anything but firewood. Oh! I was terribly angry that +day! and my aunt has never said that again. Burn this wardrobe, in which +my mother kept her dresses and all her clothes, and this desk that my +father wrote on every day—never! never! And even if I should ever be +rich, I should think just as much of them, and I would never part with +them."</p> + +<p>Tears stood in Elina's eyes when she finished. Paul looked at her with +emotion, lovingly; she seemed to him prettier than ever, for laudable +sentiments have a way of embellishing those who are inspired by them, +whereas evil sentiments change and distort the prettiest face. Women do +not regard their own interests when they are angry, sulky, or jealous.</p> + +<p>"You are quite right, mademoiselle," said Paul, with a sigh; "you must +be very happy to have something that comes from your parents."</p> + +<p>"Have you lost yours, Monsieur Paul?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>"A long while ago?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Didn't they leave you anything that had belonged to them?"</p> + +<p>"No, mademoiselle—nothing."</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! what an extraordinary resemblance there is between us! Both +orphans; both hardly knew our parents—we are in the same situation."</p> + +<p>"Oh! no, mademoiselle; you are much more fortunate!"<a name="vol_3_page_157" id="vol_3_page_157"></a></p> + +<p>"Yes, of course; because I have this wardrobe and this little desk."</p> + +<p>Paul made no reply, but turned his head away and wiped his eyes.</p> + +<p>"What a stupid creature I am!" cried Elina; "to talk of things that make +you sad! Come, let us go to work; we have none too much time. I have the +key of our new lodgings; it's the door on the opposite side of the +landing; I'll go and open it."</p> + +<p>While the girl went to open the door, Paul took down the bed, being +careful to make as little noise as possible; then he began to move the +furniture into the new lodgings.</p> + +<p>Elina pointed out a little loft, which was reached from a small, square +room.</p> + +<p>"That's my bedroom," she said. "It seems that I shan't have any too much +light up there. However, my aunt says that one doesn't need to see in +order to go to bed."</p> + +<p>"Your aunt is far from kind to you, mademoiselle; and yet she cannot +have any fault to find with you."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Monsieur Paul, aunts don't think as one's—friends do. They always +find some reason for scolding. Wait; there's a ladder to climb up to my +new room; let me fix it firmly."</p> + +<p>"Let me do that, mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>The young man put the ladder in place and went up into the loft.</p> + +<p>"Do you think it will hold all my furniture?" Elina called to him.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's not so very small. But if you set up your bed, mademoiselle, +there won't be room for your wardrobe and desk."<a name="vol_3_page_158" id="vol_3_page_158"></a></p> + +<p>"In that case, we won't set it up; I don't care anything about it—it's +my aunt's. I'd much rather sleep on the floor, and keep my father's and +mother's furniture."</p> + +<p>"But you won't be comfortable if you sleep on the floor."</p> + +<p>"I shall be all right. I am not hard to suit, and I am perfectly content +if my wardrobe and desk can be got in."</p> + +<p>Paul did as she desired; he placed on the floor, in one corner of the +loft, the two mattresses that were on her bed; then he went back and +brought the walnut wardrobe and the little desk, and succeeded in +finding room for them in the young girl's new apartment; she, meanwhile, +remained at the foot of the ladder, clapping her hands and jumping for +joy when she found that the loft would hold the two objects to which she +was so much attached.</p> + +<p>"They are all right," said Paul; "but, mademoiselle, there's no room for +anything else, not even a chair."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I don't care. I don't need any chair up there; I can sit on my bed. +I must come up and see how you have arranged it."</p> + +<p>And the pretty creature ran nimbly up the ladder into the loft, +forgetting that Paul was still there. It is very imprudent for a young +lady to be in a loft with a young man. It is much more dangerous when +the young man is good-looking, and one is already inclined to like him.</p> + +<p>But Elina did not think of all that. Luckily for her, Paul was honorable +and shy. But the most virtuous heart may prove recreant when it is very +much in love. Paul's beat violently when the girl climbed the ladder and +entered that poor chamber, where it was not possible to stand upright. +He had squatted in a corner, in order not to take up too much room, and +he dared not stir.<a name="vol_3_page_159" id="vol_3_page_159"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh! how nicely it's arranged!" exclaimed Elina, looking about; "there's +room for everything; I shall have everything right at hand. Oh! how +pleased I am!"</p> + +<p>And the girl, forgetting that the place was very low, raised her head to +thank Paul; but she struck the ceiling, then stumbled, and fell on the +mattress with a little shriek.</p> + +<p>Instantly Paul was on his knees by her side; he examined her head +anxiously, saying:</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! you must have hurt yourself terribly. I ought to have warned +you. I will go and get some water, some liniment."</p> + +<p>But Elina was smiling again, and she detained the young man.</p> + +<p>"It is nothing," she said. "It made me dizzy, that's all; and that has +gone now. I shall get out of it with a bump on my forehead. Dear me! I +must accustom myself to my loft."</p> + +<p>"Do let me fetch you something, mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>"Why, no, I don't need anything, I tell you. Give me your hand."</p> + +<p>She took Paul's hand and put it to her forehead.</p> + +<p>"Can you feel anything?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, mademoiselle; there'll be a swelling there."</p> + +<p>"The girls will all laugh at me. I've heard that by pressing hard on the +place you can prevent a swelling. Will you press on it, Monsieur Paul?"</p> + +<p>"I am afraid of hurting you."</p> + +<p>"No, no. Please press; don't be afraid."</p> + +<p>The young man trembled in every limb as he pressed his hand against +Elina's smooth, white forehead; her glossy fair hair was disarranged, +and several curls fluttered about Paul's hand, increasing his emotion to +such an extent that his hand suddenly slipped and rested on<a name="vol_3_page_160" id="vol_3_page_160"></a> the girl's +heart instead of on her forehead. Elina made no objection; she had +forgotten all about the blow she had dealt herself. The heart almost +always acts as a <i>derivative</i>, to use a medical term: when it is well +occupied, one is conscious of no pain elsewhere.</p> + +<p>Paul no longer knew what he was doing.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me for loving you, mademoiselle," he faltered, in a trembling +voice; "I know that it is very presumptuous of me; I am not worthy of +you, for I am only a poor messenger; but my love is stronger than my +reason, it will last all my life. This confession has escaped me in +spite of myself. Pray don't be angry; I will never mention it again!"</p> + +<p>Elina did not seem at all offended; her cheeks were crimson, and she +kept her eyes on the floor, as she faltered in her turn:</p> + +<p>"I am not angry. It isn't a crime to love a person. Mon Dieu! Monsieur +Paul, even before you told me—I don't know why, but I had thought—I +had guessed that you loved me, and—and—it made me happy. I don't +forbid you to mention it to me—far from it!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! mademoiselle, how good you are! and how happy I should be, +if—if——"</p> + +<p>He dared not say: "If you loved me, too." But his eyes finished the +sentence. Elina, who understood him as well as if he had said the words, +replied artlessly:</p> + +<p>"I thought that you had guessed, too."</p> + +<p>Paul put her hands to his lips, and covered them with kisses.</p> + +<p>"Ah! I am permitted to know the most perfect happiness!" he cried; "I +envy no man on earth. To be loved by you—I dare not believe it! The +thought will increase my courage tenfold. I will work harder than ever, +so<a name="vol_3_page_161" id="vol_3_page_161"></a> that I can save money; and if I could offer you a comfortable +existence; if I could save enough to have a little home of our own; +if—— But, no, it is impossible; I can never hope for anything of the +kind."</p> + +<p>Paul's face became sad once more, and he looked away from Elina. But she +took his hand and pressed it softly, saying:</p> + +<p>"Well, well! why are you so sad, all of a sudden? I feel so happy! Do +you think that I am ambitious, pray, and that I won't be content with +whatever you can offer me? It is very bad of you to think that."</p> + +<p>"No, mademoiselle; it isn't money that I am thinking of. I am very sure +that you are like me, and that you don't care about that. But it is—it +is—— Oh! mademoiselle, I will tell you everything, for I do not want +to deceive you; and no matter what it costs me to make the confession, +you shall know what I am; then you will see that I am not worthy of your +love."</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! what do you mean? You frighten me! Have you done anything +wrong?"</p> + +<p>"No, it's not that. But you said just now that our positions were the +same, because we are both orphans. That is not true, mademoiselle; you +have lost your parents, but you did know them; you know who they were, +you remember your father's kisses. But I have no idea who my parents +are. They may be living, but I do not know whether they are or not. They +cast me out, spurned me from their arms. In a word, I am a wretched +foundling."</p> + +<p>"A foundling?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, mademoiselle; I was left at the door where all the poor children +are left whose parents cannot or, in some cases, do not choose to bring +them up. There was<a name="vol_3_page_162" id="vol_3_page_162"></a> a paper on me, on which was written: <i>Paul de +Saint-Cloud.</i> Saint-Cloud is probably where I was born. And on my +forearm there was a little cross—which I still have, for it doesn't +wear out;—was that mark placed there so that I might be found and +identified some day? I hoped so for a long time. But now I have ceased +to hope, for I am more than twenty-three years old, and I have never +heard of my parents. During all the time I passed with Monsieur +Desroches,—an excellent man, who took me from the charitable asylum +when I was ten years old, and treated me like his own son,—he did all +that he could to obtain some information which would help me to find my +parents; but it all came to nothing; and when my benefactor saw me +weeping with grief, because I could not embrace my father or mother, he +would kiss me affectionately, and say: 'Don't grieve so, my boy; birth +is a game of chance; those who come into the world with a name and rank +and wealth all ready for them, often do not take the trouble to +cultivate talents and estimable qualities, because they deem themselves +sufficiently well equipped as they are; but he who begins his life +without any of those advantages is compelled to behave well in order to +obtain what he lacks. According to that, my boy, the advantage would +seem to be with him who comes into the world without anything.' With +such arguments, Monsieur Desroches comforted me and gave me courage. But +I am a poor foundling none the less, with no name, no family, to offer +you. That is what I felt bound to tell you, mademoiselle; for it is +wrong to deceive anyone. That is what makes me think that I shall never +be considered worthy to be your husband."</p> + +<p>Elina had listened to the young messenger's story with the most profound +interest; her eyes were filled with<a name="vol_3_page_163" id="vol_3_page_163"></a> tears when he finished, and she +held out her hand, saying with the impulsive frankness that comes from +the heart:</p> + +<p>"Take my hand; I give it to you, and what you have told me will not +prevent me from loving you; far from it; and since my parents are dead, +it seems to me that I have the right to select a husband for myself."</p> + +<p>Beside himself with joy, Paul seized the hand she offered him, and +covered it with kisses, repeating the most fervent oaths.</p> + +<p>"Just see how things change their aspect!" cried the girl, in her +ingenuous delight; "this loft, which seemed such a dismal place to me at +first, seems very attractive now, and I am sure that I shall like it +very much; for I shall always remember that it was here that you first +told me that you loved me."</p> + +<p>Paul was about to reply with renewed protestations, when they heard a +great burst of laughter close at hand. They stepped to the entrance to +the loft, and saw three young men in the small room below that opened on +the landing, standing at the foot of the ladder, clapping their hands, +shouting <i>bravo</i>, and laughing uproariously.</p> + +<p>The new-comers were Albert, Célestin, and Mouillot, whom we left asleep +in Balivan's studio, and who, when they woke about six in the morning, +began by laughing at the idea of their being in that place. Then they +started to return to their respective abodes; but when they were on the +landing, Célestin remembered the pretty neighbor.</p> + +<p>"By the way," he said, "what about the little neighbor overhead! +Parbleu! she must be at home still, and I won't go away without a look +at her."</p> + +<p>"Nor I, either," added tall Mouillot. "I want to decide whether she's as +good-looking as Balivan claims.—Au revoir, Albert! Go on, if you're in +a hurry."<a name="vol_3_page_164" id="vol_3_page_164"></a></p> + +<p>"No; I still have some time to spare, and I also am curious to see the +neighbor. I will go with you, messieurs."</p> + +<p>"But how shall we get her to open the door?"</p> + +<p>"That's a simple matter. We will knock, stamp heavily on the floor, and +say in a deep voice: 'The water carrier, mamzelle.'—The water carriers +always come early, and people open their doors for them, even when +they're only half dressed. She'll open for us."</p> + +<p>And the young men went upstairs, leaving Varinet still asleep, with his +olive in his pocket.</p> + +<p>When they reached the upper landing, they were surprised to find two +open doors.</p> + +<p>"It seems that we shall not have to play water carrier," they said. "Can +it be that the pretty neighbor sleeps with her door open? That would +indicate the confidence of innocence—or just the opposite. Which door +shall we go in?"</p> + +<p>"Let chance decide."</p> + +<p>Chance led them into the small room below the loft. There their +attention was attracted by the fervent protestations of love repeated by +Paul and Elina, who did not hear them enter the room; for lovers, when +they are swearing to adore each other, never hear anything else.</p> + +<p>Thereupon the young men made their comments aloud.</p> + +<p>"I should say that we had found a nest!" said Mouillot.</p> + +<p>"Love in a loft! a genre picture," added Albert.</p> + +<p>"And to think that Balivan extolled his neighbor's virtue!" observed +Célestin. "I thought our artist was more sharp-witted than that; but it +seems that he doesn't know all the colors yet."</p> + +<p>The outburst of laughter followed, and warned the lovers at last that +there was somebody close at hand.<a name="vol_3_page_165" id="vol_3_page_165"></a></p> + +<p>Elina blushed to the whites of her eyes when she saw the young men; Paul +quivered with wrath, and would have rushed down the ladder, but Célestin +had just taken it away.</p> + +<p>"Things seem to be progressing up there," said Mouillot; "we're +beginning our day well."</p> + +<p>"On my word, she is charming!" said Albert; "Balivan didn't deceive us."</p> + +<p>"True, so far as her face goes."</p> + +<p>"Why have you come here, messieurs? what do you want?" demanded Paul; +"why do you presume to take away the ladder? Put it back at once!"</p> + +<p>"Aha! the lover is losing his temper!" said Mouillot. "But, just +consider—suppose we were evil-minded? We have you both in a cage up +there—suppose we should go and tell the young lady's parents; what +would you say?"</p> + +<p>"That there is no harm, messieurs, in going into a loft when one is +moving furniture there; and that is why I am here now with +mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>"Ah! not bad! not bad! and it was part of the moving to kiss her, I +suppose; and to swear eternal love, young Lothario?"</p> + +<p>"I kissed mademoiselle's hand only, monsieur. As to what I said to her, +that doesn't concern you; you had no right to listen."</p> + +<p>"Hoity-toity! then you should lock the doors, imprudent children that +you are!"</p> + +<p>"Why, God bless me! the lover is one of our messengers, Sans-Cravate's +mate!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is so! it was he who did Tobie's errands yesterday. Ah! young +dressmaker! is it possible? you listen to a messenger? Why, you degrade +yourself, girl;<a name="vol_3_page_166" id="vol_3_page_166"></a> your trade entitles you to look higher—especially with +such lovely eyes!"</p> + +<p>"Treat mademoiselle with respect, messieurs!" exclaimed Paul; "or I'll +make you repent your insolence!"</p> + +<p>"Do you, knave," retorted Célestin, "begin by holding your tongue; if +not, you'll be whipped for your impertinence."</p> + +<p>"We shall not put back the ladder except on several conditions," said +Albert; "first, that the little dressmaker allow us to kiss her."</p> + +<p>"I," said Mouillot, "demand that she measure me for a pair of drawers."</p> + +<p>Elina made no reply; in her distress, she had taken refuge in the +farthest corner of the loft, where she tried to avoid the glances of the +young men. But Paul could not control his wrath; he jumped down into the +room below, at the risk of injuring himself, rushed at Célestin, +snatched the ladder from him with a powerful hand, and placed it against +the entrance to the loft.</p> + +<p>"Now, let anyone dare to take it away, and he will have to settle with +me!"</p> + +<p>The messenger had acted so rapidly and energetically that the young men +were speechless for a moment. Then Célestin walked toward Paul, saying:</p> + +<p>"Leave this room instantly! Gentlemen like us do not care to soil our +hands with a fellow of your stamp; but if I had a cane, I'd break it +over your shoulders."</p> + +<p>Paul took his stand in front of Célestin and looked him straight in the +eye, as he rejoined:</p> + +<p>"Men like me, messengers though we are, are far above men of your stamp, +who know no better than to insult an honest girl. If you do deem +yourself my superior in the street, because I stand there to do your<a name="vol_3_page_167" id="vol_3_page_167"></a> +errands, here, you are far below the poor man of the people; for he +bears himself with honor, while your conduct is that of a scoundrel."</p> + +<p>"Ah! this is too much!—Well, messieurs, won't you help me to thrash +this wretch?"</p> + +<p>Albert hesitated; one would have said that Paul's resolute bearing had +made an impression on him, and that in his heart he felt that the young +man was in the right. But Mouillot did not choose to disregard +Célestin's appeal; he ran to the ladder, and Célestin tried to drag Paul +from his position by pulling his arm; but the messenger pushed him away +so violently that he stumbled over his friend Mouillot. However, they +were preparing to renew their attack, when they heard a succession of +piercing shrieks; and little Elina, seeing that Paul was going to fight, +added her voice to the tumult, calling for help.</p> + +<p>"Robbers! robbers!" a voice cried from the next apartment.</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! it's my aunt who is being robbed!" said Elina. "Do go and +see, Monsieur Paul!"</p> + +<p>Paul was unwilling to move from the foot of the ladder and leave Elina +exposed to the enterprises of the young men. But the appearance of an +old woman, clad in nothing but a chemise and a camisole, with an old +handkerchief, twisted into the shape of a turban, on her head, changed +the whole aspect of affairs; it was Elina's aunt, who, regardless of the +incompleteness of her costume, ran wildly about the room, shrieking:</p> + +<p>"Robbers! there's a thief in my room! I saw him standing by my bed when +I woke up! Arrest him, messieurs, I beg you! he's there still. I put +myself under your protection."<a name="vol_3_page_168" id="vol_3_page_168"></a></p> + +<p>And Madame Vardeine would have rushed into the arms of the young men; +but they were cruel enough to shrink from the embraces of that lady in +chemise and camisole, who at that moment concealed none of her charms.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, attracted by the shrieks of the old woman and the girl, the +concierge had arrived upon the scene, carrying his broom in one hand and +a newspaper in the other. He thrust his broom into the chamber first, as +if he intended to remove the cobwebs; then entered himself, saying in a +hoarse voice:</p> + +<p>"Is anybody being killed here? What's all this row about? It's hardly +daylight, and you're fighting already! I give you notice that I am going +to tell the landlord, so that he'll turn you all out of doors."</p> + +<p>The concierge's head, upon which he wore three or four woollen and +cotton caps, one above another, and Madame Vardeine's, with her turban +awry, were so comical to look at, that Mouillot and Albert roared with +laughter. To add to the confusion, Varinet also appeared in the doorway.</p> + +<p>"What are you all doing here?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>At sight of the young man with the white eyebrows, Madame Vardeine gave +a jump which shook her whole frame in a distressing way.</p> + +<p>"There's my robber!" she cried; "that's the man I saw by my bed when I +woke up; I know him by his eyebrows!"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu, madame!" rejoined Varinet, calmly; "I beg that you will +excuse me, but I was looking for these gentlemen; I heard them laughing, +from the floor below; so I came up, found a door open, and entered your +apartment with no idea where I was going."<a name="vol_3_page_169" id="vol_3_page_169"></a></p> + +<p>Madame Vardeine did not seem convinced, and the concierge still held his +broom in the air as if he proposed to sweep everybody out of the room. +But the arrival of Balivan restored peace. The painter rescued his +friends, guaranteeing that there were no thieves among them, and they +decided at last to go away with him; but before taking their leave, each +of them cast a parting glance at the loft, where Elina crouched, +trembling from head to foot.</p> + +<p>"She is charming," said Albert.</p> + +<p>"I shall see her again," said Mouillot.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," added Célestin; "and everyone will receive what he deserves +for his conduct this morning."</p> + +<p>Paul made no reply, but the glance with which he met Célestin's seemed +to defy him, and to show how little heed he paid to his threats.</p> + +<h2><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>XI<br /><br /> +<small>IN THE MAGISTRATE'S OFFICE</small></h2> + +<p>It was eight o'clock in the morning; Sans-Cravate was in his usual +place, not lying on his <i>crochets</i> this time, but seated on the end of +them, with his elbows resting on his knees, and his head in his hands, +looking about from time to time with a dissatisfied air. His eyes often +sought out Paul's place, which was empty; then he clenched his fists, +muttered some words between his teeth, and stamped on the ground +impatiently.</p> + +<p>Jean Ficelle was pacing back and forth, within a space of about twenty +yards; constantly passing in front of his comrade, to whom he spoke now +and then, while he took<a name="vol_3_page_170" id="vol_3_page_170"></a> huge bites from an enormous piece of bread and +from a bologna sausage, alternately.</p> + +<p>"Well, Sans-Cravate, you don't have anything to say this morning. Did +our little spree last night tie up your tongue? You ain't sick, are +you?"</p> + +<p>"No, no! I've forgotten all about it; I'm all right."</p> + +<p>"<i>Pardié</i>, you wasn't drunk, anyway! anybody who says you was drunk +lies."</p> + +<p>"I think myself that I had a little too much."</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it; you think that because you got into a dispute, and +that heated you up. You could have drunk a lot more. Do you know, I'm +very sorry you couldn't settle your bet with Père Cagnoux; that would +have staggered the old boy. It was that snivelling Paul that spoiled it +all. Hm! he was rather inclined to crawl. Refuse to fight! that's just +what he did! I call him a poor cuss for friends to be seen with. Look +you, a comparison: he's like a slater that's afraid to go up on the roof +and is only willing to slate the ground floor."</p> + +<p>"But he was willing to fight with the rest of you."</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes! for what? mere brag! humbug! he knew well enough that +challenging everybody was just the same as challenging nobody. You're +the one that he insulted—and, whatever way you look at it, you're the +one he owed reparation to. To refuse to drink with friends, and break +their glasses! Thanks! that's too damned unceremonious!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! now that my head's clear, that isn't what I bear him a grudge for. +You see yourself that he was quite right to despise that Laboussole, as +he's a thief; and I blush now to think that I drank with such a cur!"</p> + +<p>"No, no, not at all! you're all wrong! You think Laboussole's a thief, +just because they arrested him as a thief!—why, that's one of the law's +spiteful tricks. A<a name="vol_3_page_171" id="vol_3_page_171"></a> man may be involved in a bad piece of business and +not be a thief, for all that. I'm sure that Laboussole will come out as +white as snow. Come and have a glass of beer. It's my treat."</p> + +<p>"No, thanks; I ain't thirsty."</p> + +<p>"Oh! you ain't hungry or thirsty to-day! Well, just as you please. But +you see the little sneak don't dare to come here this morning; that +proves that he has a feeling that he's in the wrong."</p> + +<p>"That's true; it's almost nine o'clock, and Paul is almost always the +first one here; he don't seem to come."</p> + +<p>Jean Ficelle continued to walk back and forth; then stopped again in +front of Sans-Cravate, saying with a mocking expression:</p> + +<p>"<i>Dame!</i> perhaps his time was so well occupied last night that he's +resting this morning—that's what's the matter!"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate sprang to his feet.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by that?" he cried, with a savage gesture.</p> + +<p>"I mean—I mean——Faith! you know well enough what I mean; and I'll bet +I know who he's with now."</p> + +<p>"With Bastringuette, you mean, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Dame!</i> it seems to me that she didn't hesitate to show you that she +preferred that popinjay to you. Women must have mighty little taste; +such a fine fellow as you are! Why, you'd make three of Paul!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I'm not jealous of his good fortune," rejoined Sans-Cravate, +struggling to appear calm; "let him go with Bastringuette, if he +chooses! But last night I saw that he didn't go with her when we left +the wine shop; he went away alone—and she—she waited to see if I was +following her; then she went off alone, too."<a name="vol_3_page_172" id="vol_3_page_172"></a></p> + +<p>"Bah! humbug! they met afterward. If we knew where Paul lived, we could +go and see if he was at home. Do you know where he lives, Sans-Cravate?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't; he told me he lived Faubourg Montmartre way; but that's +all."</p> + +<p>"The devil! in a faubourg! it would be a nice job to find him! There's +some mystery about that fellow; he's a queer fish."</p> + +<p>"What difference does it make whether he's at home, or at her room? I +don't care a hang! I'm done with Bastringuette."</p> + +<p>"Never mind," muttered Jean Ficelle, biting into his bread; "if a mate +of mine took my mistress from under my nose, it wouldn't make any +difference if I didn't love her—that wouldn't be the end of it."</p> + +<p>"And do you suppose that I won't have my revenge?" shouted Sans-Cravate, +giving free vent to his anger, and clenching his fists with a +threatening air.</p> + +<p>"Good!" said Jean Ficelle, patting the other's shoulder hypocritically; +"that's more like you. You're still a man. I says to myself: 'It's +mighty strange that a brick like Sans-Cravate stands being put upon +without doing anything'; but I see that you have a plan; bravo! you're a +man!"</p> + +<p>At that moment, a short, thin individual, dressed in black, but not well +dressed, stopped in front of the two messengers, and said to them:</p> + +<p>"You two are the men I want; you're Sans-Cravate, aren't you; and you, +Jean Ficelle?"</p> + +<p>They assented, and the man in black continued:</p> + +<p>"Then you'll be kind enough to come and see monsieur le commissaire."</p> + +<p>Jean Ficelle was visibly disturbed by the mention of the magistrate, +while Sans-Cravate asked:<a name="vol_3_page_173" id="vol_3_page_173"></a></p> + +<p>"What the devil should we go to see monsieur le commissaire for? I've +never been there, and I've no business to settle with him."</p> + +<p>"Weren't you at the Petit Bacchus wine shop last night, when a certain +Laboussole was arrested there? weren't you drinking with him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but we didn't know him," Jean Ficelle made haste to reply.</p> + +<p>"You can tell monsieur le commissaire what you know about him; he wants +to question you. That's all I know; don't fail to come this morning."</p> + +<p>"We will come, monsieur."</p> + +<p>The little man went away. Jean Ficelle had become thoughtful, and +Sans-Cravate knitted his brows, muttering:</p> + +<p>"To have to go before the magistrate! Not three days ago, I was +congratulating myself on never having had anything to do with him. I've +had quarrels enough; I've often fought, but I've always fought fair. No +man I ever whipped could complain of being tricked, and there was no +need of going before a magistrate to settle our quarrels. And +to-day—just because I drank with that Laboussole, a friend of +yours,—and now you say that you don't know him, and again that he ain't +a thief. Tell me the truth, do you know him, or not?"</p> + +<p>"Good God! as if I was called on to compromise myself before the +magistrate to help someone else!"</p> + +<p>"But if that someone is your friend, if he's arrested unjustly, you'd be +a coward if you didn't try to defend him."</p> + +<p>"Parbleu! Laboussole's a fox; he will get out of it without any help. +Come, Sans-Cravate, don't be ugly; after all, the most respectable +people go before the magistrate; you see, we're only summoned as +witnesses."<a name="vol_3_page_174" id="vol_3_page_174"></a></p> + +<p>"<i>Sacrédié!</i> what do you expect to be summoned for? Let's go right away; +I long to have it over with."</p> + +<p>"All right, let's go."</p> + +<p>"But I don't know where the magistrate lives; do you, Jean Ficelle?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it ain't very far from here; come, I'll show you the way."</p> + +<p>"And Paul hasn't come yet; but perhaps we shall find him at the +magistrate's, too."</p> + +<p>The two messengers soon reached their destination.</p> + +<p>There are four police magistrates for each arrondissement of Paris, +which makes forty-eight for the whole city. That is none too large a +number for such a huge, densely populated, turbulent city, where so many +things happen every day.</p> + +<p>A lantern suspended over the door indicates the magistrate's residence; +his office is rarely a particularly attractive apartment; but there is +no occasion for him to go to much expense for the benefit of the society +he ordinarily receives there, and cleansing would be a useless luxury. +Those who come thither are not even accustomed to wipe their feet on the +mat—when there is one.</p> + +<p>You enter the office, where the magistrate's clerk and secretary are +usually to be found, although sometimes the latter official has his desk +in another room. Then comes the magistrate's private office, to which +everybody is not admitted.</p> + +<p>Just as Sans-Cravate and Jean Ficelle arrived, a corporal and two +soldiers brought in two women and a boy, the latter holding in his arms +a small black dog, evidently a very young puppy.</p> + +<p>One of the women was about fifty years of age; she was so enormous that +she seemed not to be a human<a name="vol_3_page_175" id="vol_3_page_175"></a> being at all, but a shapeless mass, on top +of which was a red, purple, scarlet face surmounted by a dirty bonnet +with flying strings; she was a wine shop keeper.</p> + +<p>The other woman was younger; she was thin and pale, and had not a +pleasant face; but, at all events, she resembled a woman; she was +dressed very modestly, and wore a cap and an apron.</p> + +<p>The boy, who was about fourteen, could boast already of an enormous head +and two puffy cheeks which concealed his nose; he resembled the bulky +wine shop keeper, if anything could have resembled her. He was dressed +in a blouse, with a small cap on his head; he wore shoes, but no +stockings.</p> + +<p>The party entered the magistrate's office, yelling, whining, and hurling +insults at one another; and the corporal was compelled at times to exert +his authority, to keep the two women from fighting.</p> + +<p>A considerable crowd, entertained by the quarrel between the two, +followed them to the magistrate's door, but were not allowed to go +farther.</p> + +<p>The magistrate left his private office, where he did not hear trivial +matters, and, first of all, asked the corporal what the two women had +done.</p> + +<p>A corporal of the line is not always a born orator; this one put his +hand to his shako, and answered:</p> + +<p>"Faith!—the thing—well, you see, I don't know anything about it, but +these two women made such a noise in the street—and then they hit each +other—and there was this dog here—this little pup no bigger than my +hand—then someone came after us to put a stop to it—and, <i>sapredié!</i> +how they gave it each other on the way! but as for telling you which is +in the right, monsieur le commissaire, I'll never try."<a name="vol_3_page_176" id="vol_3_page_176"></a></p> + +<p>Having presented his report, the corporal stepped back. Thereupon the +magistrate addressed the two women.</p> + +<p>"Well, which of you is the complainant?"</p> + +<p>They both spoke at once, and the boy chimed in as well.</p> + +<p>"She's the one that's in the wrong, monsieur le commissaire."</p> + +<p>"That ain't true, for she says I stole her dog."</p> + +<p>"Of course, when I saw you."</p> + +<p>"You lie!"</p> + +<p>"And she kicked me in the fat of my leg, above the garter."</p> + +<p>"And she pinched me so she tore my dress, and you can see the marks of +her nails."</p> + +<p>"Shut up, you saucy hussy! you ought to tell him that you're the +cause——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur le commissaire; she's the cause of it. I've never been +here before—this is the first time, I can tell you that!"</p> + +<p>The boy, who had the Limousin accent, and talked as if his mouth were +full of paste, tried to put in a word:</p> + +<p>"First—sure as I stand here—for I was carrying my—my basket, and I +saw her!"</p> + +<p>To add to the confusion, the dog began to yelp.</p> + +<p>"Very good," said the magistrate, with a smile, for he saw that the +affair was of no consequence. "I judge that a dog is the subject of your +dispute. Well, we will follow Solomon's example, cut him in two, and +give half to each of you."</p> + +<p>"That's right!" cried the bulky mass, trying to laugh, until her +enormous paunch seemed on the point of bursting. "There's no way but +cutting him in two."<a name="vol_3_page_177" id="vol_3_page_177"></a></p> + +<p>"The deuce! I should say that you are not the real mother."</p> + +<p>"Oh! monsieur le commissaire, I was joking when I said that; but he's my +dog. I've got witnesses, too."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" cried the thin woman; "and the very first man that came into +your shop, when you said to him: 'Ain't that my dog?' answered: 'I never +saw him.'"</p> + +<p>"She lies! she lies! it is my dog. Everybody knows him; and then, he was +with François, my son here;—come, François, make your deposition."</p> + +<p>François opened his mouth and moved his lips a long while before he +could find a word to say, his excitement had such a powerful effect on +his mental faculties; at last, he muttered in a thick voice:</p> + +<p>"First—sure as I stand here—as I was going along with my basket, I +thought the dog was behind me—and she grabbed him, and run off with +him!"</p> + +<p>"That ain't true; he's lying, monsieur le commissaire. The dog was ahead +of him—a long way ahead of him—when I saw the little creature, and I +said: 'He hasn't got any master,' and I picked him up. If he was his, +why didn't he say: 'That's my dog.' But he let me pick him up, and it +wasn't till madame overtook him that he began to run after me and yell: +'Stop thief!'—What is there to prove that the dog belongs to them and +not to me?"</p> + +<p>The magistrate, having weighed these depositions in his mind, said to +the boy in a grave tone:</p> + +<p>"Put the dog on the floor, and let both of these ladies call him; I will +give him to the one he follows."</p> + +<p>François placed the little creature on the floor. The two women began to +call him, lavishing the most affectionate words on him. The dog did not +stir, and the affair became complicated. The two women recommenced<a name="vol_3_page_178" id="vol_3_page_178"></a> +their billingsgate, the boy stuttered, the soldiers laughed, and the dog +howled. Suddenly the thin woman began to take off her dress to show the +marks of the pinching she had received; but the corpulent woman, +divining her purpose, instantly raised her skirt, and, fearlessly +exhibiting her leg above the garter, cried triumphantly:</p> + +<p>"Look, monsieur le commissaire, look! it's blue, it's all blue, and +it'll be all black to-morrow!"</p> + +<p>It was blue, in fact; to be sure, the rest of the leg seemed to be about +the same color; but the magistrate, who did not care to see any more, +said to the other woman:</p> + +<p>"That seems to be authentic; if you can't show as much, it's of no use +for you to unbutton your dress."</p> + +<p>The thin woman decided not to disrobe, but began to weep, mumbling:</p> + +<p>"Let her keep the dog, for all I care! Mon Dieu! let her keep him! I +don't want him! But she's a saucy slut, all the same; a person ain't to +be called a thief because she picks up a dog in the street that has no +owner!"</p> + +<p>The cause was decided, and the magistrate rendered judgment. He awarded +the dog to the stout woman, who took him in her arms and waddled +triumphantly away with François, followed by her antagonist, muttering:</p> + +<p>"Never mind! you shall pay me for this, dearer than you think!"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate and Jean Ficelle stepped forward, but the magistrate +motioned to them to sit down and wait, for he had many other cases to +hear. In the office of a Parisian police magistrate the stage is seldom +unoccupied.</p> + +<p>Other soldiers, with a short, thickset woman at their head, who seemed +disposed to command them, although they also had a corporal with them, +brought in a small boy of ten or twelve years, wretchedly clad, or, to +speak<a name="vol_3_page_179" id="vol_3_page_179"></a> more accurately, hardly clad at all. Ragged trousers revealed his +bare legs, and a linen jacket, devoid of buttons, made no pretence of +concealing a torn shirt, black with dirt, and a body blacker still. The +little wretch, who, despite his miserable aspect, was stout and strong, +had a mean face, and a hangdog glance, which seemed never to have looked +at the sky.</p> + +<p>This young thief, for the boy had previously been convicted of larceny, +was now under arrest charged with stealing a loaf of bread; the thickset +woman had the loaf under her arm; she explained to the magistrate that +she was a fruit seller and dealt also in soldiers' bread, which she kept +at the door of her shop; that the boy crept up to a table on which the +bread was, and that another urchin, probably in league with the thief, +ran against her and fell almost between her legs; while she helped him +get up, his comrade seized a loaf and ran away with it. But she saw him +in time; she ran after the little villain and caught him with the stolen +loaf still in his possession; so that he could not deny his crime.</p> + +<p>"Why did you steal this loaf?" the magistrate sternly asked the little +thief, who had listened to the fruit seller's declaration as if it did +not concern him, drumming on the clerk's desk with his fingers. He +swayed from right to left, just like a bear, stuck out his lips, hung +his head lower than ever, and at last mumbled something which could not +be taken for words.</p> + +<p>"Why did you steal this bread?" repeated the magistrate, more severely +than before. "Come, answer; and speak up so that you can be heard."</p> + +<p>Thereupon a low, drawling voice replied:</p> + +<p>"'Cos I was hungry! I ain't had nothing to eat for two days."<a name="vol_3_page_180" id="vol_3_page_180"></a></p> + +<p>"That is not true; you haven't the face of one who is starving; at all +events, if you were hungry, you should have gone to a baker's shop and +asked for bread; you wouldn't have been refused. But we know your ways; +you stole this loaf of bread to sell again, and get three or four sous +to gamble with on the boulevard or at the barrier; isn't that the +truth?"</p> + +<p>The little fellow again began to sway back and forth. He made a grimace +which seemed to be intended for a smile, and said nothing.</p> + +<p>"Are your parents living?" continued the magistrate.</p> + +<p>"I dunno."</p> + +<p>"What! you don't know whether you have a father and mother?"</p> + +<p>"I ain't got no father, I don't think."</p> + +<p>"And your mother?"</p> + +<p>"She sells fried potatoes."</p> + +<p>"Isn't she able to pay for your apprenticeship to some trade?"</p> + +<p>"I don't want to work."</p> + +<p>"You prefer to steal! you hope to be imprisoned with other little +rascals of your sort, with whom you will become hopelessly bad. Where +does your mother live?"</p> + +<p>The little vagabond made no reply. The magistrate repeated his question.</p> + +<p>"I won't tell you; I don't want her to claim me; I won't go back to +her!"</p> + +<p>"Then you will be taken to the préfecture, and from there to a house +where you'll have to work."</p> + +<p>Nothing that the magistrate could say seemed to move the young thief in +the slightest degree; but when the secretary took his pen to write the +report for the préfecture, the little rascal began to laugh, and +muttered:<a name="vol_3_page_181" id="vol_3_page_181"></a></p> + +<p>"<i>V'là le griffon qui prend une voltigeante pour broder sur du +mince.</i>"<a name="FNanchor_F_6" id="FNanchor_F_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_F_6" class="fnanchor">[F]</a></p> + +<p>The soldiers led the offender away, and the fruit seller went off with +her bread. This scene depressed Sans-Cravate; he glanced at his comrade, +who seemed utterly unmoved by what he had seen and heard.</p> + +<p>A well-dressed man, and of gentlemanly aspect, came forward and informed +the magistrate that at No. 19 in the next street, on the third floor, at +the rear of the courtyard, a gambling hell was being carried on +clandestinely, under cover of a so-called reading-room. The gamblers +were admitted by a secret door, and opening out of the reading-room was +another room, in which roulette and <i>trente-et-un</i> were played. The +magistrate was invited to visit the place, with his inspectors, about +ten o'clock at night, when he would be sure to find the games in full +operation; his informant would come to fetch him and act as his guide; +he had succeeded in obtaining admission as a gambler.</p> + +<p>This well-dressed, well-mannered man was simply a spy.</p> + +<p>Next came a rather attractive young girl, of modest aspect, who was very +near weeping as she asked the magistrate why he had summoned her to his +office.</p> + +<p>"Because you persist in keeping flower pots on your window ledge, +mademoiselle, despite the municipal ordinance; and because, very lately, +you spattered water on a lady who was passing. I shall be obliged to +fine you."</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! monsieur le commissaire, it's very strange that I could have +spattered anybody, watering a small pot of pansies; for I'm always very +careful when I water my flowers. Probably some neighbor below me threw +the<a name="vol_3_page_182" id="vol_3_page_182"></a> water out into the street, then the lady looked up and saw a flower +pot at my window, and so thought it came from there."</p> + +<p>"Still, mademoiselle, your flower pots may cause a serious accident."</p> + +<p>"Oh! monsieur le commissaire, just a little pot of pansies!"</p> + +<p>"If it should fall on anybody's head, mademoiselle, a pot of pansies +might do as much damage as one of poppies. If you are so fond of +flowers, why don't you put your pansies on something inside your room? +You would enjoy them just as much—yes, more; and there would be no +danger to your health, for the pansy has no odor."</p> + +<p>The girl lowered her eyes, as she replied:</p> + +<p>"That wouldn't be the same thing; if it was inside my room, he wouldn't +see it!"</p> + +<p>"<i>He</i> wouldn't see it? Ah! I understand: that pot of pansies is a signal +to your lover, is it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur," faltered the girl, with a smile; "when it's on the +ledge, he may come up; and if I happen to have company, I take it away, +and he don't come up."</p> + +<p>"Very good; he is able to come up very often, I judge, as the pot of +pansies seems to be always in evidence; and thus the most innocent of +flowers is made to serve the intrigues of lovers!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! monsieur, my lover will marry me; I am perfectly sure of it."</p> + +<p>"I trust so, mademoiselle; but you must put a wooden bar across your +window, so that passers-by will not be in danger; only on that condition +can I sanction the flower pot which you use to telegraph to your lover."</p> + +<p>"What, monsieur! if I put a wooden rail, a bar, across, you will allow +me to keep flowers at my window?"<a name="vol_3_page_183" id="vol_3_page_183"></a></p> + +<p>"Yes; if you do that, you may keep as many there as you choose."</p> + +<p>The girl fairly jumped for joy.</p> + +<p>"Oh! what fun! I will put a rosebush and carnations with my pansies!"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! mademoiselle! will each of the three be a signal to a lover?"</p> + +<p>"I'll put up a bar right away; and I'll keep three flower pots there, +monsieur le commissaire; three flower pots!"</p> + +<p>The girl left the office in a very joyous frame of mind. After her, came +a woman who charged her husband with striking her with a skimmer; then a +husband who wanted a separation from his wife, because she gave him +nothing but onion soup for dinner every day; then a tenant who +complained of his concierge, because he made him pass the night in the +street, on the ground that it was after midnight when he came home; then +a peddler whose tray had been upset; a milkwoman whose donkey had been +wounded by a cabriolet; a cab that refused to move; a shop which did not +close at midnight; a man who had tried to drown himself; a girl who was +found dying of suffocation. Sometimes this sort of thing goes on from +morning till night; and it not infrequently happens that the magistrate +is roused from his sleep. A man needs to be made of iron to fill that +post in Paris.</p> + +<p>At length, having dismissed the last of the crowd that besieged him, the +magistrate motioned to the messengers to follow him into his private +office. Having closed his door, to ensure them against interruption, he +seated himself at his desk, and addressed Sans-Cravate first.</p> + +<p>"Are you the man called Sans-Cravate?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur."<a name="vol_3_page_184" id="vol_3_page_184"></a></p> + +<p>"This is the first time that you have been summoned to my office?"</p> + +<p>"That is true, monsieur le commissaire."</p> + +<p>"But you have the reputation, in the quarter, of being a noisy, +quarrelsome fellow, and of drinking rather hard, too."</p> + +<p>"Faith! monsieur le commissaire, it's possible that I like to enjoy +myself, that I'm a little hot-headed, that I fight sometimes! It's in my +blood, and I can't make myself over. But all that don't prevent a man +from being honest, and I defy anyone to say that Sans-Cravate ever did +him an injury."</p> + +<p>"I know that you are an honest man, that your head alone is a little +unruly; and because I am convinced of that, I wanted to speak to you +privately, to give you some good advice. This is the first time you have +been to my office, and I like to think that, if you follow my advice, it +will be the last."</p> + +<p>Jean Ficelle turned his head away, and muttered:</p> + +<p>"On my word! a moral lecture! I should think we was at +<i>Quart-d'Œil's</i> school!"</p> + +<p>But Sans-Cravate listened humbly enough to the magistrate, who +continued:</p> + +<p>"The quickest, the most impulsive people are usually the easiest to +lead. Beware of evil associates, Sans-Cravate, that's all; the man who +obeys the first suggestions of his anger generally has a weak will; and +there are rascals, who, by flattering your passions, sometimes lead you +into bad ways."—As he said this, the magistrate glanced at Jean +Ficelle, who affected to whistle through his teeth.—"Sans-Cravate, you +were at the same table, last night, in a wine shop, with one Laboussole; +where did you make that man's acquaintance?"<a name="vol_3_page_185" id="vol_3_page_185"></a></p> + +<p>"Faith! monsieur le commissaire, I know him only by having met him at +the Petit Bacchus, and, as Jean Ficelle called him his friend, I invited +him to have a drink with us."</p> + +<p>"I!" cried Jean Ficelle; "I didn't know him any more'n you did; just +from meeting him at the wine shop. I called him <i>old fellow;</i> that's a +term men often use to each other when they're drinking together; but I +don't know him."</p> + +<p>"You lie!" said the magistrate, gazing sternly at the messenger; "you do +know that man; you know that he ran a game of chance, a <i>biribi</i>, under +Pont d'Austerlitz; and you are suspected of having been his +confederate."</p> + +<p>"I, monsieur le commissaire! on my word! what a slander!"</p> + +<p>"If I were certain of it, you would have ceased to be a messenger before +this; for you would be likely to betray the confidence of the +public.—As for you, Sans-Cravate, you see how dangerous it is to form +intimacies with people you don't know. This Laboussole, in addition to +the punishment he has earned for conducting games of chance, is also +involved in a serious case of larceny; if you were often seen with such +men, your reputation for honesty would suffer. That is what I wanted to +say to you. We have too many rascals in Paris now, and it is almost +always by frequenting their society that others are ruined. As you know +nothing more about Laboussole, you may go."</p> + +<p>"But, monsieur le commissaire," said Jean Ficelle, in a fawning tone, +"we wasn't the only ones with Laboussole in the wine shop; our mate was +there, too—Paul, a messenger who has a stand where we do; why don't you +examine him too?"</p> + +<p>"If we do not summon that young man before us, it is presumably because +we do not deem it necessary. Our purpose in summoning Sans-Cravate was +principally to<a name="vol_3_page_186" id="vol_3_page_186"></a> give him some good advice, and to urge him to distrust +evil acquaintances. As for your young comrade, such advice to him is +unnecessary. He is neither a drinking man, nor a quarrelsome man, nor a +frequenter of wine shops; the best thing you could do would be to take +him for a model. You may go now."</p> + +<p>The two messengers left the magistrate's office. Sans-Cravate was +pensive; he seemed to be reflecting upon what had been said to him; but +his comrade, who feared the result of his reflections, exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Who ever heard of a magistrate having the cheek to give advice! For +God's sake, ain't we old enough to know how to behave? what's all this +talk about liberty, anyway? He'd better attend to making cabs move on, +and leave us alone!"</p> + +<p>"He seems to have a high opinion of Paul," said Sans-Cravate.</p> + +<p>Jean Ficelle pursed up his lips, cast a sidelong glance at his +companion, and rejoined:</p> + +<p>"Do you know, that gives me a curious idea?"</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"That Paul may be a spy; and that it was him who had Laboussole arrested +last night."</p> + +<p>"Shut up, Jean Ficelle! don't insult our mate. It's an infernal shame +for you to say that!"</p> + +<p>"I may not be wrong; ain't there something queer in the way Paul acts? +Didn't Laboussole say he'd met him all dressed up—like a regular +swell?"</p> + +<p>"You dare to tell me what Laboussole said—a thief!"</p> + +<p>"What does that prove? A man may steal, and still have good eyes; +indeed, he's all the more likely to; and then, one day, in the Marais, I +thought myself that I recognized Paul in a man dressed like a rich +bourgeois; I'm<a name="vol_3_page_187" id="vol_3_page_187"></a> sure now that I wasn't mistaken. If he disguises himself +like that, he must have more trades than one. He's a sham messenger, and +I go back to my idea: he's a spy!"</p> + +<p>"Once more, Jean Ficelle, I forbid you to say such things!"</p> + +<p>"But you can't keep me from thinking 'em; ideas are free, like +opinions;—a man can't be prevented from having his own opinions and +ideas!"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate made no further reply. They arrived at their stand, but +Paul was not there.</p> + +<p>Jean Ficelle cast a bantering glance at his comrade, saying:</p> + +<p>"He seems to be having a famous spree to-day, does the magistrate's +pet!"</p> + +<p>Again Sans-Cravate made no reply; but he clenched his fists, and it was +evident that he had difficulty in restraining the feelings which +agitated him.</p> + +<p>More than an hour had passed, when Bastringuette appeared on the +boulevard. She had no tray, and was dressed in her best clothes: cap +with broad ribbons, merino shawl, and black silk apron. She glanced at +the messengers out of the corner of her eye as she passed. Sans-Cravate +quickly turned his head and walked away. But Jean Ficelle ran after the +flower girl and accosted her:</p> + +<p>"Ah! bless my soul! how natty we are! Where can we be going in such a +rig? to a wedding, at the very least! it can't be less than that."</p> + +<p>"<i>Dame!</i> perhaps that's what it is," retorted Bastringuette, assuming a +very sportive air. "Perhaps I'm going to be married myself, nobody +knows! Husbands are always on hand!"</p> + +<p>She walked on without another word. Jean Ficelle returned to +Sans-Cravate, glanced at him, and said nothing.<a name="vol_3_page_188" id="vol_3_page_188"></a></p> + +<p>But Sans-Cravate could not contain himself; a moment later, he cried:</p> + +<p>"What did she say? Where's she going? Why don't you speak?"</p> + +<p>"She seemed to be as gay as a lark. She said that perhaps she was going +to be married. You understand the riddle? She'll be married in the +thirteenth arrondissement."<a name="FNanchor_G_7" id="FNanchor_G_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_G_7" class="fnanchor">[G]</a></p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate hesitated a moment; then, having made up his mind what to +do, he said:</p> + +<p>"I mean to find out where she's going—to follow her. Are you coming +with me?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure! As if I would desert a friend! Besides, I don't feel like +working to-day. Forward, guide left, march!"</p> + +<p>The two messengers followed the boulevard in the direction taken by +Bastringuette; they walked very fast, one looking to the right, the +other to the left, but they did not see the person they desired to +follow.</p> + +<p>"Where the devil can she have gone?" said Sans-Cravate.</p> + +<p>"It's very strange," rejoined Jean Ficelle, "unless she turned off the +boulevard. Here we are at Porte Saint-Denis."</p> + +<p>"Let's go on," said Sans-Cravate. "Bastringuette has a cousin who lives +Rue Barbette way; perhaps she's gone to see her."</p> + +<p>"In the Marais; ah! she has a cousin who lives in the Marais? How that +fits in!"</p> + +<p>"What's that? what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! nothing."<a name="vol_3_page_189" id="vol_3_page_189"></a></p> + +<p>"I don't like hints, Jean Ficelle; speak out, sacrebleu!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I mean that the Marais is where Paul's always seen when he's +disguised as a swell; and Bastringuette comes along, dressed in tiptop +style, and goes in that direction. <i>Dame!</i> if a fellow had an evil +tongue, he might say that your mistress and our so-called comrade made +assignations there—perhaps at the cousin's, who knows? There's such +things as obliging cousins."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate did not say a word, but he strode along the boulevards at +such a pace that his companion was breathless with trying to keep up +with him. Jean Ficelle suggested a brief halt, but, instead of +complying, Sans-Cravate began to run.</p> + +<p>"I think I see her over yonder," he shouted; "she turned into Rue du +Temple; I must overtake her."</p> + +<p>"Thunder and guns!" muttered Jean Ficelle, as he followed on; "my +liver'll bust by the time we catch her."</p> + +<h2><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>XII<br /><br /> +<small>FATHER AND SON</small></h2> + +<p>In a very handsome house on Rue Caumartin, the windows of an apartment +on the second floor were still brightly lighted, although it was after +three o'clock in the morning.</p> + +<p>In that fashionable quarter, it was a fair presumption that anybody who +was still out of bed at that hour would be indulging in the pleasures of +card playing, music, or dancing; that an evening party had been +prolonged until that hour, and that the master or mistress of the house<a name="vol_3_page_190" id="vol_3_page_190"></a> +took pride in having the dawn find their guests still under their roof.</p> + +<p>But such a presumption would have been false in this instance. In a +luxurious salon, where several candles were still burning, a man sat, +alone, on the corner of a couch, his head bent forward; and, to judge by +the expression of his features, by the melancholy look in his eyes, he +had not passed the night in merrymaking.</p> + +<p>He was a man of some forty-six years, of medium height and distinguished +bearing. His grave, dignified face had been very handsome. His great +blue eyes were still instinct with charm when he smiled; but that +happened very rarely. His habitual pallor, the numerous lines on his +forehead, were eloquent of sorrow, ennui, and heartache—of all those +sentiments which bring premature old age to those who have come into the +world with a sensitive soul, and of which selfish egotists have no +knowledge; wherefore, they are able to retain their youth, freshness, +and health much longer than the others. Heaven has done everything for +the selfish man!</p> + +<p>The man who sat there so late at night, alone, was Monsieur Vermoncey, +Albert's father.</p> + +<p>His eyes turned frequently toward a clock on the mantel. After every +glance, he listened, as if hoping to hear the rumbling of a carriage or +the sound of footsteps in the street, then threw his head back, saying +to himself:</p> + +<p>"He is enjoying himself, no doubt, with his friends—or his mistress. +But he is using up his life too fast, he is ruining his health. Mon +Dieu! and I have no one left but him—no one else! all my other children +have followed their mother to the grave. If I should lose Albert, what +would become of me? what can a man do on earth, when he has no one left +to love?"<a name="vol_3_page_191" id="vol_3_page_191"></a></p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey seemed utterly overwhelmed; profound grief was +depicted in his eyes, which he kept on the floor for a long while, as if +melancholy memories of the past were blended with his present anxieties. +He sighed at intervals, as he murmured:</p> + +<p>"My wife, whom I loved so passionately! my children, whom I idolized! +Ah! how men change! when I was Albert's age, how far I was from thinking +that the most delicious joys are those that one knows in his own family, +with his wife and children! But at twenty-two the heart is not as yet +open to all sentiments; at that age, a man does not know what he wants, +or whom he loves! He treats lightly the most serious things, and repents +afterward—sometimes, when it is too late."</p> + +<p>He rose and walked about the room a few times, then continued:</p> + +<p>"I am foolish to be anxious. Albert is enjoying himself, that's all. I +ought to have gone to bed long ago; but it is useless for me to try to +sleep, when I know that he has not come in. His conduct for some time +past has been very reprehensible. He spends his money foolishly, he +makes undesirable acquaintances; but his heart is sound at bottom; he +will become reasonable in time; I must not forget that I was young +once."</p> + +<p>As he made this reflection, Monsieur Vermoncey fixed his eyes on the +floor again, his brow became clouded, and he put his hand to it several +times as if he sought to brush away some painful memory.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the sun had risen: he heard the rumbling of the milkwomen's +carts, the heavy tread of the peasants returning from selling their +vegetables at the market, the song of the early workman going to his +work, and<a name="vol_3_page_192" id="vol_3_page_192"></a> the dialogues between the concierges as they swept their +doorsteps.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey rang; in a few seconds a servant appeared, whose red +face, half-closed eyes, and sluggish gait proved that he had not +followed his master's example, and that he had with difficulty roused +himself from sleep.</p> + +<p>"Has my son come in, Florent?" inquired Monsieur Vermoncey, as if +anxious to be convinced that he had not listened intently all night.</p> + +<p>The servant replied, rubbing his eyes:</p> + +<p>"I think not, monsieur; but I will go to his room and see; sometimes he +doesn't wake me when he comes in."</p> + +<p>"Ah, no! he has not come in!" said Monsieur Vermoncey to himself, +nervously pacing the floor. "And it's after five o'clock. He doesn't +usually pass the whole night away from home, without telling me. +Probably some card party which lasted till morning.—Yes, I know that I +am foolish to worry, but I cannot help it. A man endangers his life so +recklessly sometimes! Intrigues with women are often dangerous! All +husbands are not disposed to allow themselves to be betrayed, and say +nothing. But it seems that the more obstacles there are to making a +woman's acquaintance, the more determined we are to possess her."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Albert has not come home since yesterday," the servant +reported.</p> + +<p>"Very well, Florent. I am going to my room; but come and tell me as soon +as my son comes in."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey went to his bedroom, where there were portraits of +his wife, of Albert, and of the three children he had lost. He stood a +long while in front of the picture of his wife. She had died when she +was still<a name="vol_3_page_193" id="vol_3_page_193"></a> young and lovely, and she was so represented in the portrait. +It would be a consolation to those who die when they are still in life's +summertime to know that when we think of them we shall always recall +them as being young and fair; and regret that they could not have +enjoyed a long life, in which we fancy them growing old in years, +perhaps, but never in appearance.</p> + +<p>After gazing long at the features of his beloved and regretted wife, he +turned his eyes sadly upon the portraits of his children. His eyes +filled with tears as he looked at those he had lost; then he glanced at +the portrait of Albert, which had been painted more recently, and was a +perfect likeness; it seemed that he hoped to derive consolation and +courage from the features of his only remaining child; but in a moment +his eyes began to wander about the room, as if in search of still +another portrait. At last he threw himself into a chair, and, resting +his head on his hand, abandoned himself anew to his reflections.</p> + +<p>It was seven o'clock in the morning when Albert returned to his father's +house. It will be remembered that, after passing the night in the +artist's studio, the young men had gone upstairs to see the pretty +neighbor, whom they had surprised in the loft. So Albert had but just +left his friends, when Florent hurried to Monsieur Vermoncey's room to +tell him that his son had come home.</p> + +<p>The father's downcast features were instantly lighted up with an +expression of joy and happiness; his son's long absence had really +disturbed him, but a single word put all his fears to flight. He rose +hurriedly, intending to go at once to Albert, then checked himself, +thinking that his son would be angry if he knew that he had not gone to +bed. But the longing to embrace him carried the day, and he went to his +son's room.<a name="vol_3_page_194" id="vol_3_page_194"></a></p> + +<p>Albert's apartment was on the same floor as his father's; only the width +of the hall separated them. The young man had just taken off his coat, +waistcoat, and cravat, and was putting on a robe de chambre, when his +father appeared.</p> + +<p>"What! up already?" cried Albert.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey's only reply was to go to his son and embrace him; +he, meanwhile, scrutinized his father closely, then said:</p> + +<p>"I'll wager that you haven't been in bed; yes, I can tell by the tired +look of your eyes; you have had no sleep, probably because I did not +come home; you are quite capable of sitting up all night for me! Allow +me to tell you that that is utterly absurd. Am I still a child? Am I not +at liberty to stay at a house where I am enjoying myself, if I have an +opportunity, or to play a game of cards with my friends? In a word, +father, may I not venture to pass a night away from home, without your +sitting up for me, like a schoolboy who is thought to be lost? I tell +you again that it is very annoying to me!"</p> + +<p>"I have not reproached you," said Monsieur Vermoncey, fixing his eyes +upon Albert.</p> + +<p>"No, you don't reproach me, but that makes no difference. Do you think +that I can take any pleasure at a party that happens to last far into +the night, if I know that you are sitting up for me, that you are +anxious about me? Nothing of this sort would have happened if I had +carried out my first idea. I wanted to live somewhere else; then you +wouldn't know at what time I came home. I know very well that you don't +interfere with my doing whatever I choose; but a man is always more at +liberty living by himself, and it would be much better."<a name="vol_3_page_195" id="vol_3_page_195"></a></p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey replied, with a melancholy air, but with dignity:</p> + +<p>"After all the misfortunes that have crushed me to the earth, I thought +that I might venture to ask you to comply with my wishes in some slight +measure. Having lost your mother, your brothers, and your sister, and +having nothing but your presence to assist me to endure my grief, I +thought that you would not seek to deprive me of it, but that you would +feel how essential it was for me to be able to rest my eyes on one of my +children, the only one heaven has deigned to leave me. In spite of that, +I did not curtail your liberty at all, I claimed no right to pry into +your acts—although, perhaps, a father is entitled to know what his son +is doing. But as it seems that I have asked too much, that, in asking +you to live in the same house with me, I demand too great a sacrifice, +go, my son, leave this apartment; I will not seek to detain you, but I +shall not cease, on that account, to love you as dearly as ever."</p> + +<p>While his father was speaking, Albert's expression changed; it was easy +to read in his eyes that his father's reproaches had reached his heart. +Monsieur Vermoncey had hardly finished, when his son threw himself into +his arms.</p> + +<p>"I am wrong, father, I am wrong!" he cried; "I am a heedless fool! I +don't know what I am saying! I say things that grieve you, who have +always been so kind and generous and indulgent to me! Please forgive me! +Forget all that I have said, and let there be no more question between +us of living apart. I know that I should never be so happy anywhere else +as with you. All these friends of mine—my companions in pleasure—I go +with them because I have a good time with them; but I promise<a name="vol_3_page_196" id="vol_3_page_196"></a> you that +I appreciate them at their real value. Come, embrace me. You are not +angry with me any longer, are you?"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey replied by pressing his son to his heart. A loving +word from one we love suffices to make us forget a thousand causes of +complaint that have long been gathering. Moreover, indulgence is always +to be preferred to severity, so long as the faults committed are not of +those which should cause us to blush.</p> + +<p>"No, my dear boy, I am not angry now," said Albert's father at last. "I +am well aware that at your age it is natural to seek amusement, and I do +not blame you for it. My affection takes alarm too easily, I agree; but +what can you expect? I have had so much unhappiness! my heart has been +so cruelly torn! Such wounds never heal entirely; they leave us in a +constant state of anxiety concerning the little happiness heaven has +left us. Let us say no more about it. If you are happy, that is all I +want; especially if you deal frankly with your father, if you look upon +him as the best of your friends—I do not mean of those friends whom you +mentioned just now. By the way, among others, there is a Monsieur +Célestin Valnoir, or <i>de</i> Valnoir, who is almost always with you. I +don't like that young man; if he were simply a little wild—a high +liver—that would be nothing; but I do not think that he's sincere."</p> + +<p>"Faith! father, you may very well be right about it; however, I am +inclined to call Célestin selfish rather than insincere. He's a +delightful fellow in company, provided that you don't ask him to do +anything for you! Moreover, he has the art of making himself useful, +indispensable, in fact. He can order a dinner perfectly, he plays all +kinds of games, and he talks on all<a name="vol_3_page_197" id="vol_3_page_197"></a> subjects with a cool +self-possession which dazzles and fascinates one. He finds a way to make +one do whatever he wants."</p> + +<p>"Take care, my boy; you are naturally trustful and obliging. I know that +you are constantly in this Célestin's company. I have told you many +times that you should be more particular in the choice of your friends +than of your mistresses. You seem to have been spending your money +freely of late; but it is what came to you from your mother, and you are +entitled to spend it as you choose. Come, confess that the funds are +rather low just now."</p> + +<p>Albert smiled and lowered his eyes.</p> + +<p>"In truth, father—as you are so good at guessing, I will not try to +hide it from you any longer. I have been foolish—very foolish. I have +let myself go without reflection. I have been very unlucky at cards. Oh! +I know that I am very foolish to play; it would be much better never to +touch a card. I will reform. I won't play any more."</p> + +<p>"So that now you haven't any money?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't a sou! but I have no lack of resources, of acquaintances."</p> + +<p>"That's it; you will apply to usurers, who will consummate your ruin, +instead of coming frankly to your father."</p> + +<p>"Because you have done so much for me already; I shrank from abusing +your indulgence."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! so long as you love me, I never shall regret what I do for +you. Besides, will not my fortune be yours some day? for you know that I +shall never marry again. My only reason for not turning it all over to +you now is that, as I am more prudent than you, I<a name="vol_3_page_198" id="vol_3_page_198"></a> prefer to keep it for +you until a time when you yourself will be less thoughtless. Now, I look +upon myself as your steward, I am managing your property."</p> + +<p>"Oh! father, what do you mean? Are you not at liberty to dispose of your +fortune?"</p> + +<p>"For whose benefit would you have me dispose of it, if not for my son's? +But the steward may presume, now and then, to preach a little; then he +will have to turn to and make up the deficit. Here, my boy, take this +wallet; you will find ten thousand francs in it; that will save you the +trouble of applying to your companions in pleasure, who would refuse +you, or to usurers, who, having to wait until my death for their money, +would charge you a hundred per cent interest."</p> + +<p>Albert was keenly touched by his father's kindness; he pushed away the +hand that held the wallet, saying:</p> + +<p>"You are too good, father; really, you are too good to me! But I will +not take this money, I ought not to take it. You make so many sacrifices +for me, and I am unworthy of them! I spend money so foolishly! No, it's +too much; I will not accept it."</p> + +<p>"I insist upon your taking it. I insist, do you hear? Am I not your +father? do you refuse to obey me? If you do, then I shall be seriously +angry."</p> + +<p>Albert took the wallet, saying, as he embraced his father:</p> + +<p>"Upon my word, you spoil me, as you did when I was a child."</p> + +<p>"What would you have? it is my method. I have always thought that +parents had better success by taking that course. I have an idea that, +if I give you money to satisfy your whims, that very fact will lead you +to spend it less heedlessly."<a name="vol_3_page_199" id="vol_3_page_199"></a></p> + +<p>"Yes, you are right; I will make myself worthy of your indulgence."</p> + +<p>"Enjoy yourself, be happy, and love me; that is all that I ask of you; +and don't place too much dependence on your friend Célestin, who does +not inspire me with confidence."</p> + +<p>"I will follow your advice, father, I promise you."</p> + +<p>"And I, for my part, promise to be more reasonable. I will not sit up +for you any more; I will go to bed—do you understand? I will go to bed. +But, I beg you, think of your health, and avoid dangerous intrigues, +which sometimes lead to deplorable results. I will leave you now and get +some sleep. It is understood that you are to come home when you please; +hereafter, I will go to bed."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey left the room, and Albert threw himself on his couch.</p> + +<p>"My father is the best of men," he thought; "but, after all, to do what +he has done was perhaps the only way to make me behave myself. Yes, this +kindness, which nothing wearies, and which leads him, instead of heaping +reproaches on me, to pay the price of my follies again—this touching +kindness makes me realize all the wickedness of my conduct much more +keenly than sermons and harsh treatment would do. I have squandered all +my mother's property in such a short time! I absolutely must reform, for +I do not propose that my father shall straiten himself for me; and that +is what will happen if I continue to lead the life I have been leading. +For I know him; he could never bear to see me in embarrassed +circumstances; he would subject himself to them, to extricate me. So it +is definitely decided, I am to turn virtuous. First of all, I will not +play cards any more;<a name="vol_3_page_200" id="vol_3_page_200"></a> then, I will not associate with Célestin quite so +much; the more I think of it, the more I am inclined to believe that my +father is not very far out of the way in his opinion of him. I have +noticed several things—at all events, I will be on my guard. Now, I +will think of nothing but my good fortune for to-day. Madame Baldimer +has consented to receive me. Strange woman! I am dead in love with her. +But is it really love that I feel for her? Let us see: if, instead of +resisting me as she has done ever since I began to be attentive to her, +she had yielded to me after a feeble resistance, would not my love have +died out long ago? I don't know what to answer. It seems to me that it +would not—and yet—on reflection—— But what's the use? Let us try at +first to triumph. In this affair, at all events, my fortune is in no +danger. Madame Baldimer is rich—that is to say, she seems to be. She is +a widow, consequently her own mistress—no husband to deceive, or to +stand in fear of. I am sure that my father himself would approve of this +liaison."</p> + +<p>Having passed some time in such reflections as these, Albert fell asleep +on his couch. When he woke, it was nearly noon, and his appointment was +for one o'clock. He dressed in haste, but with great care, because he +desired to maintain his reputation as one of the leading dandies of the +capital; then, when his costume was complete, he sallied forth, took a +cab, and was driven to Madame Baldimer's house on Rue Neuve-Vivienne.<a name="vol_3_page_201" id="vol_3_page_201"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>XIII<br /><br /> +<small>MADAME BALDIMER.—A FAN</small></h2> + +<p>Let us now make the acquaintance of this lady, with whom Albert was so +madly in love, and with whom his friend Célestin maintained a +correspondence of which he knew nothing.</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer was twenty-eight years of age. Although she was very +beautiful, she appeared fully as old as that, because her features, +faultless and regular as they were, were somewhat pronounced and stern; +because there was in her expression a touch of masculinity, of +intelligence superior to vulgar weaknesses, and the signs of a firm and +resolute will.</p> + +<p>Tall, with a superb figure, of lithe and graceful carriage—which is +rare in very tall women;—great black eyes full of fire, hair as black +as jet, a shapely mouth with perfect teeth, sometimes ironical in +expression, sometimes scornful, and sometimes fascinating beyond words; +a white skin slightly lacking in lustre, a beautiful arm, a lovely hand, +but a very long, very broad, and very flat foot,—such was Madame +Baldimer. She always wore extremely long dresses, in order to hide that +portion of her person which did not harmonize with the beauty of her +face and her body.</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer lived on Rue Neuve-Vivienne, in a suite of rooms worthy +of a <i>petite-maîtresse</i> upon whom fortune has lavished its favors. There +she had assembled everything that could gratify the taste of the most<a name="vol_3_page_202" id="vol_3_page_202"></a> +exacting of women: furniture of priceless woods, bronzes, pictures, +porcelain, statuettes, knickknacks, curiosities—nothing had been +overlooked; Madame Baldimer's rooms contained all that the world could +provide in the way of dainty, graceful, and sumptuous objects. It was a +delicious haven of repose, where the feet rested on naught but soft +carpets, where one breathed an atmosphere heavy with perfumes and +flowers, where, in a word, it seemed that the aim had been to assemble +whatever was best adapted to seduce the mind, the eye, and the senses.</p> + +<p>It was not the first time that young Vermoncey had called upon Madame +Baldimer; after meeting her in society, fascinated by her beauty, he had +insistently craved the favor of being permitted to pay his court to her; +and that favor had been granted with a readiness that led him to hope +for the speedy triumph of his passion. But he had been disappointed; the +lovely widow, who had appeared to be flattered at first by the effect +her charms produced upon Albert, had received coldly enough the burning +declaration which the young man was not slow in addressing to her; +without absolutely spurning him, she had given him but little hope. +Sometimes stern, sometimes merry, scornful or melancholy, Madame +Baldimer's conduct toward Albert was that of a coquette who seeks to +amuse herself at the expense of the man she has subjugated, or who does +not feel sufficiently assured of her conquest, and, before surrendering, +desires, by all possible means, to inflame and strengthen the sentiment +she has inspired.</p> + +<p>Discouraged, and at times disgusted by the non-success of his sighs, +Albert swore to think no more of the fair American, which was the name +by which Madame Baldimer was commonly designated in society. In his +endeavor<a name="vol_3_page_203" id="vol_3_page_203"></a> to forget her, he ceased to go where he was likely to meet +her, in society or at her favorite places of amusement. But just as his +resolution was beginning to bear fruit, and his common sense to triumph +over his passion, he was sure to meet Madame Baldimer somewhere, at the +theatre perhaps, at a concert, or wherever he happened to walk. It +seemed that some evil genius kept her informed of his most trivial acts, +and sent her upon his traces, in order to make him forget his +resolution. The lovely creature exerted every means of seduction in her +power to bring back to her feet the man who was struggling to free +himself from her empire; and when he saw Madame Baldimer again, Albert +speedily forgot her coquetry, and returned to her side more in love than +ever, and always flattering himself that he was to be more fortunate in +his suit.</p> + +<p>But for some time past, Albert's vexation at his failure to triumph over +the fair American had been intensified by the torments of jealousy; for +he was not the only man whom Madame Baldimer's charms had fascinated; +and as she was a flirt, she welcomed the homage of several other young +men with as much favor as his. Latterly, a wealthy foreigner, a Swede, +had joined the ranks of her adorers; this gentleman, one Count +Dahlborne, was exceedingly ugly; he was very tall and stiff, with large, +glassy eyes, and a red beard and moustache which made his aspect almost +repulsive, and were ill adapted to attract a <i>petite-maîtresse</i>; and +yet, whether from eccentricity or caprice, Madame Baldimer had seemed +for some little time to take more pleasure in the Swedish count's +society than in that of any other aspirant to her favor.</p> + +<p>Albert, angry beyond measure, had sworn once more to cease to think of +that woman who made a plaything<a name="vol_3_page_204" id="vol_3_page_204"></a> of his love; and affairs were at that +stage when, on the preceding evening, he and his friends had spied the +fair American in a little <i>citadine</i>, driving along the boulevard. We +have seen what followed. Unable to control the passion which dominated +him, Albert wrote to Madame Baldimer, imploring her to accord him a +tête-à-tête, and swearing that she would never see him again if she +refused. The reply was laconic, but favorable. "Come at one o'clock +to-morrow," said the note which he had received from the lovely widow, +and which had made him so happy.</p> + +<p>Let us accompany him now to the lady's abode, where he arrived at the +hour mentioned in the note.</p> + +<p>A maid ushered the young man into a small salon furnished with all the +dainty coquetry of a boudoir. Enveloped in an ample blouse of white +muslin, gathered about her waist by a gold cord, Madame Baldimer sat, or +rather half reclined, on a divan. Her beautiful black hair was her only +head-dress, but the novel and original fashion in which it was arranged, +and the elegant simplicity of her dress, which heightened her +charms—everything combined to impart to her person something which +would have vanquished the most insensible of men, and Albert was very +far from that.</p> + +<p>At sight of the person she expected, and of whose passionate admiration +of her beauty she was well aware, Madame Baldimer's eyes gleamed, and +her face lighted up with a peculiar expression. Was it pleasure, love, +or simple coquetry? One must needs have been a talented physiognomist to +divine what was taking place in that woman's heart.</p> + +<p>Albert bowed gracefully, and, at a sign from her, took his seat by her +side.<a name="vol_3_page_205" id="vol_3_page_205"></a></p> + +<p>"I trust that I shall hear no further complaints from you," said Madame +Baldimer, with a smile; "I have given you this rendezvous—the +tête-à-tête for which you asked me. Do you know that that is a very +great favor?"</p> + +<p>"Do you imagine, madame, that I am not profoundly conscious of its +value; do you already repent of having afforded me so very great a +pleasure?"</p> + +<p>"I never repent of what I have done, for I always reflect before acting; +and I realize all the consequences of what I accord, of what I promise."</p> + +<p>"Then you give me leave to love you and to tell you so, to hope that you +will share my sentiments? for all that is the natural consequence of +this priceless interview which you have deigned to grant me."</p> + +<p>"Oh! gently, gently, Monsieur Albert; you go too fast. Love me, if you +will; I do not forbid you—far from it; but I must be absolutely certain +of your love, I must be convinced that it is too great to recoil before +any obstacle—any sacrifice—before I make up my mind to yield to it."</p> + +<p>"Oh! madame, are you not certain of the power of your charms, of the +boundless influence you exert over me? What proof must you have, in +order to believe in my love? Speak, command!—I am prepared to obey."</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer gazed earnestly at Albert, but in that searching gaze +there was no trace of tenderness, nothing to indicate that it came from +the heart. The young man was almost frightened by the persistent stare +of those two great black eyes; he would have preferred a little +confusion and embarrassment, some slight emotion, a sigh—in a word, +some one of those things which indicate that the moment of avowal, of +surrender, is at hand;<a name="vol_3_page_206" id="vol_3_page_206"></a> and Madame Baldimer's expression conveyed no +such indication.</p> + +<p>"You have loved very often, have you not?" murmured the lovely widow at +last.</p> + +<p>"So I thought until I knew you, but I feel now that I never really loved +before I saw you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! a man always says that to the last woman to whom he pays +court. But I have been told that you have been guilty of a great many +follies for your mistresses."</p> + +<p>"Follies do not necessarily denote love."</p> + +<p>"Sometimes they do. And suppose I wanted you to do something of the sort +for me——"</p> + +<p>"Why, I should be only too happy, if it were a means of making myself +agreeable to you."</p> + +<p>"Ah! you do not know me, you see. I am very peculiar. I want the man who +loves me to gratify all my tastes, all my whims; to divine them himself; +I do not understand the love that hesitates before a desire of the loved +one. If I had been a man, I would have thrown myself into the water, +into the flames, to prove my love for a woman! I would have defied all +dangers, challenged all my rivals—in short, I would have turned the +world upside down, aye, and committed crimes, if she had asked me to."</p> + +<p>Albert, who was at a loss to understand the purport of her remarks, +looked at her with a smile, saying:</p> + +<p>"Have you some little crime you would like me to commit? or would you +like me to jump into the water?"</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer pressed her lips together impatiently, as she replied:</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! monsieur, what will you say next? I should be very sorry, +indeed, if the slightest accident<a name="vol_3_page_207" id="vol_3_page_207"></a> should happen to you on my account. +Really, I don't know why I said that. I don't always consider what I +say."</p> + +<p>"But you consider what is said to you, surely?" rejoined Albert, taking +her hand.</p> + +<p>She smiled, and seemed to reflect for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Where do you live now?" she asked. "Is it true that you have moved?"</p> + +<p>"No, madame; I am still in the same house."</p> + +<p>"And you live with your father, I believe?"</p> + +<p>"On the same landing."</p> + +<p>"For a young man who likes to do foolish things, it must be a little +burdensome sometimes to have such a neighbor."</p> + +<p>"Oh! no, madame; I am my own master; I do what I choose; my father does +not interfere with me in any way; he is so kind to me!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! he loves you very dearly, does he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I cannot doubt it. And it is quite natural, as I am the only one +left of a numerous family."</p> + +<p>"What! has he no other child?"</p> + +<p>"I had two brothers and a sister—and I alone am left."</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer let her head fall upon her breast, and seemed lost in +thought.</p> + +<p>"But we are talking of very serious subjects," said Albert, after a +pause; "whereas I had no purpose to speak of anything but my love. Tell +me, do you not love me a little?"</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer made no reply, but she allowed her hand to be pressed, +heaved a sigh, and turned her eyes away. The young man was overjoyed; he +thought that his love was beginning to touch the heart that he burned to +subjugate, and he was about to put to his lips the<a name="vol_3_page_208" id="vol_3_page_208"></a> hand that he held in +his, when Madame Baldimer rose abruptly and began to pace the floor.</p> + +<p>"Did you see Madame Plays at Count Dahlborne's last reception?" she +asked, in a very vivacious tone. "She wore the sweetest cashmere; it +fairly turned my head; so much so, that I dreamed of it, and I think of +it all the time. There's one just like it at Delille's. They are the +handsomest shawls there are in Paris to-day. I was tempted for a moment +to buy it; but it costs too much; and one would be very foolish to yield +to all one's fancies."</p> + +<p>Albert was utterly disconcerted. At the very moment when he thought that +she was about to respond to his loving protestations, she began to talk +about cashmeres! That abrupt sally so bewildered him that he gazed at +Madame Baldimer in blank amazement, and did not know what to reply.</p> + +<p>She returned to her seat on the divan, and continued in a most amiable +tone:</p> + +<p>"Pardon me; here I am talking about clothes, now; I am very frivolous, +am I not?"</p> + +<p>"You are charming always—if only you would be a little more +sentimental! When I speak of my love, you change the subject."</p> + +<p>"Why, no—for that Madame Plays has been your mistress, has she not?"</p> + +<p>"No, I give you my word of honor."</p> + +<p>"Come, come, don't lie about it! As if one could not detect such things +at once, however little one knows the world! Besides, Madame Plays made +no secret of it—quite the contrary; that husband of hers is so +obliging!"</p> + +<p>"For heaven's sake, let us drop Madame Plays! I did not ask for a +tête-à-tête with you, to talk about her!"<a name="vol_3_page_209" id="vol_3_page_209"></a></p> + +<p>"I fancy not. But her shawl is so pretty—and I thought that someone +said that you gave it to her."</p> + +<p>"No, indeed! that is not true!"</p> + +<p>"You won't admit it, of course—such a beautiful present! Were you so +very much in love with that woman?"</p> + +<p>"Once more, madame, I assure you that you are mistaken."</p> + +<p>"Very well—it is possible; I am willing to believe you. But, oh! what a +stunning shawl that is!"</p> + +<p>Albert said nothing more. A thousand thoughts passed through his mind, +and his brow began to darken. Madame Baldimer, noticing it, became more +vivacious, more amiable, more tender, than ever; one would have said +that she feared that the passion she had aroused might disappear, and +that she was exerting herself to the utmost to prevent Albert's love +from escaping her. He was altogether bewildered by the cajoleries which +she lavished upon him; his hope that his flame was at last shared awoke +to new life; indeed, Madame Baldimer's conduct fully justified that +hope.</p> + +<p>But at that moment the maid appeared in the doorway.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur le Comte Dahlborne wishes to know if he may pay his respects +to madame?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Why, of course; show him in," replied Madame Baldimer, with an air of +satisfaction; while Albert, whose features contracted when he heard the +count's name, exclaimed angrily:</p> + +<p>"What! you propose to receive that foreigner? And I hoped that I was to +enjoy a tête-à-tête with you!"</p> + +<p>"Have we not time enough to see each other again? The count was told +that I was in; to refuse to receive him would be discourteous."<a name="vol_3_page_210" id="vol_3_page_210"></a></p> + +<p>"Ah! madame, if you had taken any pleasure in hearing me speak of my +love——"</p> + +<p>"I do—but the world insists upon the observance of certain proprieties +which we cannot disregard. Besides, this foreigner is so gallant——"</p> + +<p>"Too gallant with you, in my opinion, and his frequent visits——"</p> + +<p>"Hush, here he is!"</p> + +<p>Count Dahlborne entered the salon, with the stiff, formal, pretentious +air which he always maintained. He had several decorations in his +buttonhole, and all the manners of a person of good breeding; but his +long, surly face, even when he tried to be affable, seemed destined to +put pleasure and love to flight. However, Madame Baldimer greeted him +with a charming smile; he kissed her hand, bowed solemnly to Albert, and +seated himself in an armchair, like a wooden man moved by springs.</p> + +<p>"It is very good of you, monsieur le comte, to think of coming to see +me," said the pretty widow, mincingly.</p> + +<p>The Swede bowed, and replied with the utmost seriousness:</p> + +<p>"Oh! I think of it all the time."</p> + +<p>"You gentlemen who are in diplomacy, in politics, have very little time +to give to the ladies; so that they should be highly flattered when it +occurs to you to give a thought to them."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I give many thoughts to them."</p> + +<p>Albert could hardly restrain a smile at the Swede's phlegm and his +laconic utterances, and he did not say a word, being curious to see if +his conversation would continue in the same tone. But Madame Baldimer +was too shrewd not to try to make the count talk more freely. She +addressed him again.<a name="vol_3_page_211" id="vol_3_page_211"></a></p> + +<p>"How did you like the last opéra-comique? We met there the night before +last, you know."</p> + +<p>"I don't remember it at all," replied Monsieur Dahlborne, after +apparently trying to recall the incident.</p> + +<p>"I should judge, then, that you didn't enjoy it very much."</p> + +<p>The Swede made no reply, but felt in his coat pocket and produced a +superb fan of some rare and valuable wood, beautifully carved, and +enriched with inlaid work. He presented it to Madame Baldimer, saying:</p> + +<p>"I broke yours at the theatre; will you allow me to replace it?"</p> + +<p>The fair American took the fan and gazed at it with an enraptured +expression.</p> + +<p>"Oh! really, Monsieur Dahlborne," she cried, "this is too beautiful. I +don't know whether I ought to accept it; it is simply magnificent! What +workmanship! what exquisite finish! it is perfectly lovely! I cannot +take it in exchange for the one I had."</p> + +<p>"Then I will break this one too, if you give it back to me."</p> + +<p>"Really, such gallantry—it puts all our Parisian gentlemen to the +blush.—Look, Monsieur Vermoncey, isn't this a wonderfully lovely fan?"</p> + +<p>Albert, whose face had worn a pronounced frown ever since the count +presented the fan, barely glanced at it as he replied:</p> + +<p>"I know very little about that sort of thing."</p> + +<p>"It is impossible to imagine anything in better taste! Well, Monsieur +Dahlborne, I will keep it; for it would really be too bad for you to +break it."</p> + +<p>"In that case, I am very glad that I broke the other," said the Swede, +with a bow.<a name="vol_3_page_212" id="vol_3_page_212"></a></p> + +<p>Albert found it difficult to restrain his vexation and anger; he could +not keep his feet still, and seemed to be boiling on his chair. The +pretty widow, who seemed to take great delight in the young man's +jealousy and wrath, and who acted as if she desired to add to his +misery, handed the fan to him again, saying:</p> + +<p>"Pray look at it, monsieur, and admit that you have never seen anything +so pretty and so refined."</p> + +<p>This time the young man took the fan in his hands, held it up in the +air, opened it as if to examine it more closely, then let it fall on the +corner of his chair, whence it dropped to the floor. The dainty thing +was too frail, too delicate, to resist that twofold fall, and it broke +in several pieces.</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer gave a little shriek, which did not, however, indicate +intense regret; indeed, it was possible that she expected that event and +had looked forward to it. Count Dahlborne contented himself with picking +up the pieces of the fan, which he coolly placed in his pocket.</p> + +<p>"There are others," he said; "prettier ones than that, perhaps; I shall +have the pleasure of bringing you one."</p> + +<p>Albert's irritation increased apace; he flattered himself that by +breaking the fan he would vex Madame Baldimer and anger the Swede—in +short, he hoped for a scene, a quarrel; but the foreigner's +imperturbable tranquillity disappointed his hope; he saw that his +awkwardness—or malice, as they chose to take it—was thrown away.</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer addressed no reproach to him; she simply said:</p> + +<p>"We all have our unlucky days."</p> + +<p>Then she resumed her conversation with the count, who continued to +answer as laconically as before; in fact,<a name="vol_3_page_213" id="vol_3_page_213"></a> she carried on the +conversation practically alone, with an occasional ironical smile at her +young adorer.</p> + +<p>Albert paid no heed to what was being said, and he answered incoherently +such remarks as were addressed to him; but he was determined not to +abandon the field to the Swede, and not to go away so long as that +gentleman stayed. For his part, the noble foreigner seemed not at all +disposed to take his leave, although he did not appear to be enjoying +himself overmuch.</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer probably divined the secret thoughts of her two suitors; +and after entertaining them, as we have described, for some time, she +herself rose and said:</p> + +<p>"Excuse me for leaving you, messieurs; but I am going into the country +for a few days, and I must make my toilet; you understand that, for a +lady, that is too important a matter not to require a great deal of +time."</p> + +<p>The visitors understood that they must go. Both rose, and both took +leave of the young woman. The Swede kissed her hand with much gravity; +Albert contented himself with pressing it hard, saying under his breath:</p> + +<p>"I hope to see you immediately after your return to Paris."</p> + +<p>"I count upon it," replied Madame Baldimer, aloud. "I will write you as +soon as I return."</p> + +<p>The two rivals went downstairs together; on reaching the street, they +saluted without a word.</p> + +<p>Albert stood and looked after the count as he walked away, and was +strongly tempted to go up to Madame Baldimer again; but he changed his +mind and went home.</p> + +<p>"To go back now," he said to himself, "would be a mistake. What should I +say? I broke that fan; she saw that I did it in anger, and she didn't +reprove me. But I must make that up to her. I have deprived her<a name="vol_3_page_214" id="vol_3_page_214"></a> of one +present, so I owe her another. That cashmere she spoke about is very +expensive, I suppose, but no matter! It shall not be said that a Swede +was more gallant than I. And yet—I don't know—but it seems to me that +that woman doesn't love me;—and I thought that her acquaintance would +cost me nothing! Ah! I hoped that she would be more amiable and less +coquettish. I should do very well to forget Madame Baldimer—I know +that. Why am I so bent upon triumphing over her? Oh! vanity, vanity!"</p> + +<h2><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>XIV<br /><br /> +<small>THE MARAIS.—A MYSTERY</small></h2> + +<p>Sans-Cravate had quickened his pace in order to reach Rue du Temple, +into which he thought that he had seen Bastringuette turn. When he +walked at his ordinary gait, he moved almost as rapidly as a cab; so +that, as may be imagined, his double-quick step was likely to tire +anybody who attempted to keep up with him.</p> + +<p>Jean Ficelle was compelled to run, in order not to lose sight of his +comrade. From time to time, he called out to him:</p> + +<p>"Stop a minute, won't you! I can't keep up with you; do you want to see +my spleen swell up like a balloon? <i>Sacrédié!</i> you ought to be a runner; +I believe you could beat the horses on the Champ de Mars!"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate reached Rue de la Corderie without catching another glimpse +of the woman he had thought was Bastringuette. There he halted at last.<a name="vol_3_page_215" id="vol_3_page_215"></a></p> + +<p>"It's mighty lucky," panted Jean Ficelle. "I was just going to give out; +on my word, I was blowing like a cab horse!"</p> + +<p>"I don't see that woman," said Sans-Cravate; "it's very strange! Where +the devil has she gone to?"</p> + +<p>"Was it really Bastringuette that you saw turn into this street? You +ain't sure of it, are you?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"What are we going to do now?"</p> + +<p>"As long as we're in the Marais, let's go to Rue Barbette, where my +traitor's cousin lives."</p> + +<p>"All right, let's inspect the Marais, I'm willing; perhaps we may meet +somebody else. But we don't need to run any more, that don't help us +any. Let's walk along quiet now, arm in arm."</p> + +<p>"Did I run just now?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! of course not! not any faster than a steam engine. I'm willing +to go with you and help you in your search; for I'm your friend—and +when anyone insults you, d'ye see, it makes me madder than if it was me. +Bless my soul! a friend's a friend—that's enough for me. But that's no +reason for your breaking my wind. Besides, you know, you can find things +out much better by going slow than by running like a bullet. Look you, +I'll give you a comparison. Have you ever been on the railroad?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I went to Saint-Germain once, with Bastringuette."</p> + +<p>"Well, what did you see, what did you notice on the way?"</p> + +<p>"How do you suppose a man can notice anything when he's going like the +wind?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly—that's what I'm coming at. That's like you—just now. How do +you expect to see anything or<a name="vol_3_page_216" id="vol_3_page_216"></a> find out anything in the street, when +you're running like a horse with the bit between his teeth?"</p> + +<p>"I believe you're right; give me your arm, and we'll go slowly about our +search in the Marais."</p> + +<p>The Marais is the oldest quarter of Paris, next to the Cité; despite the +numerous changes, enlargements, and improvements which have been made in +the capital, the Marais has retained its primitive aspect more nearly +than any other quarter. There we can still find a large number of the +old houses and mansions occupied by our ancestors. It is not surprising, +therefore, that, as we stroll through that quarter, our imagination +carries us back several centuries, and our memory recalls all those +deeds of the olden time with which our childhood was entertained.</p> + +<p>For instance, if you have studied or read our history ever so little, +you cannot pass through Rue des Tournelles without recalling the fact +that one of the king's palaces once stood on that street; that Henri II +caused lists to be constructed, reaching from the Bastille to the Palais +des Tournelles, for the tourney in which he received his death wound; +that it was in front of the Bastille that the celebrated duel took place +in the year 1578, between Quélus, Livarot, and Maugiron on the one side, +and Ribérac, Schomberg, and D'Entragues on the other. They fought at +five o'clock in the morning; Maugiron and Schomberg, who were less than +twenty years old, were killed on the spot; Ribérac and Quélus died of +their wounds shortly after. At that time, the rage for duelling was +carried to such a pitch that it not infrequently happened that a father +acted as his son's second. Still, those were the days which are called, +by common consent, the <i>good old time</i>.<a name="vol_3_page_217" id="vol_3_page_217"></a></p> + +<p>If you walk through Rue Sainte-Avoye, you look for the Hôtel de Mesmes, +where lived Anne de Montmorency, Constable of France, an illustrious old +man, who was mortally wounded, at the age of seventy-four, at the battle +of Saint-Denis, after unhorsing by a blow with the hilt of his sword +(the blade had been broken during the battle) the man who summoned him +to surrender.</p> + +<p>Rue Barbette recalls Isabel of Bavaria, that queen whom France holds in +no very kindly remembrance. She had a house there, which she called her +<i>petit séjour</i>. It was thither that she generally retired during the +paroxysms of the malady of her husband, Charles VI; a custom which does +not speak highly for her wifely affection; a good bourgeoise would have +stayed with her husband, to take care of him and nurse him. But she was +a queen—and this happened in the good old time.</p> + +<p>Pass through Rue Culture-Sainte-Catherine, and you will be conscious of +a thrill of terror as you recall the murderous attack upon the +Connétable de Clisson by Pierre de Craon. For it was on the corner of +that street that the latter lay in hiding on the night of June 13, 1391. +He was at the head of a number of cutthroats, lying in wait for him +whose death he had sworn to compass. Although he had no other weapon +than a small knife, the constable used it with such wonderful address +and vigor that he did not die of his wounds.</p> + +<p>If you visit Rue des Lions, your eyes will seek the buildings in which +the king's lions were confined, and your memory will at once recall the +adventure of the Chevalier de Lorges. While François I was amusing +himself by watching his lions at play, a lady dropped her glove in the +arena, and said to De Lorges:<a name="vol_3_page_218" id="vol_3_page_218"></a></p> + +<p>"If you would have me believe in your love, go fetch my glove."</p> + +<p>The chevalier went down into the arena, picked up the glove from the +midst of the lions, returned to his place, threw the glove in the lady's +face, and never spoke to her again. That, too, happened in the good old +time. To-day, our ladies do not exact such proofs of affection; with us, +gallantry is less savage, and we might even apply to it what someone has +said of music: <i>Emollit mores, nec sinit esse feros</i>.</p> + +<p>Close at hand is Rue des Nonaindières, formerly Rue des Nonains d'Hière, +because the abbey of the village of Hière still owned several estates on +that street. That was the abbey where the use of eggs was not permitted +until the fourteenth century; before that time, they were considered too +great a delicacy for nuns.</p> + +<p>Then there is Rue Saint-Paul, which cannot fail to remind you of the +famous mansion erected by Charles V. With its gardens, it occupied all +the space between Rue Saint-Antoine and the river, from the city moat to +the church of the parish of Saint-Paul. In those days, the houses in +which kings dwelt were always flanked by huge towers, and the gardens +planted with fruit trees and vines. Rue Beautrellis and Rue de la +Cerisaye took their names respectively from a beautiful trellis and from +a plantation of cherry trees, both of which were within the confines of +the gardens of the Hôtel Saint-Paul. We have become more luxurious than +our kings of the olden time, for now no petty banker will have anything +but ornamental trees and shrubs in his park; he would blush to have you +find a plum tree or an apricot tree there.</p> + +<p>On Rue des Trois Pavillons, one's thoughts inevitably turn to the fair +Diane de Poitiers, whom Henri II made<a name="vol_3_page_219" id="vol_3_page_219"></a> Duchesse de Valentinois. That +street once bore her name, because she lived there; I cannot tell you +why they rechristened it, but, for my part, I prefer the name of a +pretty woman to Trois Pavillons.</p> + +<p>Lastly, there is the Vieille Rue du Temple. Your heart contracts as you +recall the assassination of the Duc d'Orléans on that street, one +evening in the month of November, 1407, near a small house called the +Image de Notre-Dame.</p> + +<p>But we have dwelt long enough on the memories evoked by that ancient +quarter. Although the Marais has retained down to the present day, in +some of its streets, a part of its primitive aspect, it has undergone +numerous changes; new, broad, and airy streets and elegant, even +coquettish, houses have risen on the sites of the gloomy Gothic +structures of our ancestors. As for the people of that quarter, they +bear no resemblance whatever to the Parisians who lived in the Marais at +the time of which we have been evoking the memory. Morals, customs, +manners, everything is changed, and we may well congratulate our +contemporaries that it is so; for, as we have seen, duels, murders, and +ambuscades are the subjects of most of the legends that have come down +to us. We may be less chivalrous, but, while we are no less brave, we +are more light-hearted, more amiable, and much less treacherous than our +forbears of the good old time.</p> + +<p>To-day, the people of the Marais dress almost as well as those of the +Chaussée d'Antin; there are no districts in Paris now that are behind +the times in respect to fashions, but everybody cannot or does not +choose to follow them. A dandy of Rue Saint-Louis may make as fine a +show as he of Boulevard des Italiens, especially as there is nothing to +prevent their having the same tailor.<a name="vol_3_page_220" id="vol_3_page_220"></a></p> + +<p>We ought to say, however, that there is something more of the +patriarchal rigidity of manners to be observed in the Marais than in +other quarters of the capital. The people there close their shops a +little earlier, and do not sit up quite so late as in the centre of the +city; the young women are more submissive in their demeanor toward their +parents, the young men do not as yet venture to appear in a salon when +they exhale an odor of pipe or cigar. But these shades of difference are +very slight, and, doubtless, will very soon blend with the general +color.</p> + +<p>The two messengers walked arm in arm. Sans-Cravate seemed deep in +thought; he did not speak, but looked carefully on all sides, +scrutinizing everybody who passed; he even tried to look into the shops; +in every woman that he saw he fancied that he recognized Bastringuette, +whom he had ceased to love, as he believed, but of whom he constantly +thought. That is a very poor way of ceasing to love a person.</p> + +<p>Jean Ficelle whistled and sang and smoked, and tried to enliven his +comrade. But he barely replied, and often without rhyme or reason, which +proved that he was not listening. Jean Ficelle tried frequently to stop +him. When they passed a wine shop, he would say:</p> + +<p>"Shan't we go in and take a glass? the glass of friendship! no one +refuses that."</p> + +<p>But Sans-Cravate refused; he walked on, saying:</p> + +<p>"Later—in a minute—I don't want to drink now."</p> + +<p>"You're getting to be a devilish queer kind of a friend," growled Jean +Ficelle; "you make me travel all over Paris dry—do you want me to catch +the pip, like a turkey?"</p> + +<p>At last they reached Rue Barbette, and Sans-Cravate pointed out to his +comrade a small fruit shop at some little distance.<a name="vol_3_page_221" id="vol_3_page_221"></a></p> + +<p>"That's where Bastringuette's cousin lives."</p> + +<p>"That one-eyed fruit stall?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure, as she keeps it."</p> + +<p>"Well, let's go in and see if your girl's there."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't like to have her think I'm watching her. Do you go by alone, +and look in; the shop is very small, and you can easily see all the +people that are in it; I'll wait here for you."</p> + +<p>"All right. I'll be skirmisher."</p> + +<p>He left Sans-Cravate standing at the entrance of a passageway, and +walked toward the fruit stall at a mincing gait. He passed the shop +twice, looking in both times, then returned to Sans-Cravate.</p> + +<p>"There's no more Bastringuette than there is crabs in the fruit store," +he said. "Your doll ain't there."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you didn't look closely."</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, I did; it ain't hard to do. There's nobody there except the +proprietor, and an old woman who wants carrots, I fancy, for she was +hauling 'em all over."</p> + +<p>"I want to see for myself."</p> + +<p>And Sans-Cravate walked toward the fruit stall, in his turn. Jean +Ficelle followed him, still whistling. When they had passed the shop, +Sans-Cravate stopped, and muttered with a distressed expression:</p> + +<p>"She ain't there!"</p> + +<p>"Pardieu! I knew it. I've got eyes like a falcon, I have. But I don't +see what made you think Bastringuette was there. Your wench wouldn't +have rigged herself out in her prettiest togs to go to a paltry shop +where they sell burned onions and old Brie cheese. When a woman dresses +up, it means that she's going to meet a man she wants to catch; you +don't need to be a chemist to see that."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, you are right."<a name="vol_3_page_222" id="vol_3_page_222"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh! I know the world, my boy. Sometimes I don't say nothing, but I +think a lot. But what's to hinder your going into the shop and asking if +Bastringuette's been there to-day?"</p> + +<p>"No; she'd find out that I'd been looking for her; she'd think that I +care what she does. I won't do it."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me, she wouldn't be far out of the way if she thought +that."</p> + +<p>"I tell you, I don't love her any more—I hate her; but I'd like to +catch her with the other one, just so's to say: 'You're a pair of curs, +and I despise you!'—and that's all. I tell you, Jean Ficelle, no woman +will ever be anything to me after this; they're too treacherous; I won't +have any more mistresses, I swear!"</p> + +<p>"Don't swear—that's nonsense! Look you, I'll give you another +comparison: when a woman has a pretty cat, she always says when she's +patting him and kissing him: 'If I lose this one, I swear I'll never +have another.'—But what happens? her cat dies or gets lost, and in a +little while she's sure to get another one, and says just the same about +him that she did about the first one. Now, you see, women say just the +same thing about their lovers that they do about their cats. 'If this +one leaves me, I'll never have another.'—And when their lover leaves +'em, they always take another, just as they do a cat. Well! when a man +says: 'I won't have any more mistresses, because mine has played tricks +on me,' it's just the same story."</p> + +<p>"But I have some character, some strength of will!" cried Sans-Cravate; +"and to prove that I don't mean to think of Bastringuette any more, I'm +going to drink and gamble and enjoy myself—go on a spree with my +friends."<a name="vol_3_page_223" id="vol_3_page_223"></a></p> + +<p>"Well, well! good enough! that's what I call talking! Come along, I'll +take you to the rendezvous of the <i>Francs-Lapins</i>. You'll find some +friends there you can depend on. Have you got any cash?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I still have six or seven francs left of what Monsieur Albert gave +me last night."</p> + +<p>"We must spend 'em! Anyway, we can't do any more work to-day; it's too +late, and you need amusement, and so do I. Forward—and as we go along, +I'll teach you a drinking song that goes to the tune of <i>Partant pour la +Syrie</i>, with an accompaniment of tongs beating a kettle; it has a fine +effect at dessert."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate took his companion's arm. It was evident that he was doing +his utmost to overcome his chagrin and to appear hilarious. Jean +Ficelle, who believed himself to be an excellent singer, had already +begun the song with which he proposed to entertain his friend, when, as +they turned out of Rue Barbette into Vieille Rue du Temple, a young man, +who wore a round hat, and whose dress, while not fashionable, was that +of a respectable bourgeois, walked rapidly by them. He seemed much +preoccupied, and did not notice the two messengers. But they looked at +him and recognized him, and Jean Ficelle triumphantly exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Well! what did I tell you? Was I mistaken? You've seen him yourself. +That was Paul, dressed like a swell."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it was him, that's sure! I can't get over it!"</p> + +<p>"And do you see how proud he is when he's dressed up like that? he +passed close to us, and pretended not to know us. What does it all mean? +is that a messenger's dress? Anyone would swear he was a drummer. You +see yourself that there's something crooked, some mystery."<a name="vol_3_page_224" id="vol_3_page_224"></a></p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate was not listening, for he had run after Paul; although the +younger man walked very rapidly, Sans-Cravate soon overtook and passed +him; then, planting himself in front of him, he barred his passage, +saying in a bantering tone which ill concealed his anger:</p> + +<p>"Where are you going so fast? <i>Bigre!</i> seems to me, you're dressed +mighty fine for a messenger who stands on the street corner to do +errands."</p> + +<p>Paul was thunderstruck when he recognized Sans-Cravate; but he strove to +overcome his annoyance, and replied:</p> + +<p>"I am not doing errands to-day, and when a man isn't working he is free +to dress as he pleases."</p> + +<p>"That may be! but, still, nobody ever meets us in such a rig, not even +on Sunday."</p> + +<p>"No," said Jean Ficelle, who had overtaken his two confrères, and joined +in the conversation with a bantering leer; "no! we ain't so stylish as +that! Gad! what a swell! Paul must have some other trade that pays +better than ours, to wear such togs! And think how stingy he is with us, +never willing to treat his friends to a glass!"</p> + +<p>"I do what I choose! I am not accountable to anyone for my actions," +retorted Paul, with an angry glance at Jean Ficelle; "I don't play the +spy on other people, and I care mighty little what is thought of me by +people who had better learn to behave themselves, first of all!"</p> + +<p>With that, Paul hurried away, while the two messengers looked at each +other with a disappointed expression.</p> + +<p>"What an insolent brat he is, the little foundling!" cried Jean Ficelle; +"don't that deserve a hiding—when a puppy without any father or mother +puts on airs like that? He insulted you again."<a name="vol_3_page_225" id="vol_3_page_225"></a></p> + +<p>"Me?" said Sans-Cravate, in surprise; "how did he insult me, I'd like to +know?"</p> + +<p>"Didn't you hear what he said: 'There are people who had better learn +how to behave themselves before they spy on other people?'—He looked at +you when he said that."</p> + +<p>"I thought you was the one he was looking at."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! He spotted you."</p> + +<p>"Well, one thing's certain, and that is that Paul isn't with +Bastringuette, and that I was wrong to think they were together."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate seemed less distressed; it was evident that his jealousy +had partly disappeared. But Jean Ficelle rejoined, with a shrug:</p> + +<p>"They ain't together now—that's true. But what is there to prove that +they didn't separate just now? Perhaps Bastringuette ain't so far away. +I have my ideas. See, I'll give you a comparison: it's like the way a +cat insists on staying in a garret because he smells mice there; it's no +use to try to drive him out——"</p> + +<p>"<i>Sacrédié!</i> Jean Ficelle, you tire me with your comparisons! Come, +let's go and see the <i>Francs-Lapins</i>; we are going to spree it a bit, +you know. I'm all ready."</p> + +<p>Instead of complying, Jean Ficelle pointed to a house with a passage, on +the left, and said:</p> + +<p>"That's where our fine gentleman came from; and perhaps we might be able +to find out where he'd been."</p> + +<p>"You think Paul came out of that house, you say?" said Sans-Cravate, +walking in that direction.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I'm sure of it. I was looking straight ahead, and there was +no one coming. And all of a sudden someone came out of that passage, and +it was him."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate stopped in front of the house, and finally decided to enter +the passageway, which was rather dark,<a name="vol_3_page_226" id="vol_3_page_226"></a> with no sign of a concierge's +quarters. Jean Ficelle followed his comrade, and, after examining the +passage for a moment, they walked toward a dark, winding staircase at +the rear.</p> + +<p>"Shall we go up?" said Jean Ficelle.</p> + +<p>"Where shall we go? Who shall we ask for?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Dame!</i> I don't know. But we can act as if we'd made a mistake. We'll +ask for a midwife for a woman who's in a great hurry for one. How's that +for a game! Or we can ask if Monsieur Paul, ex-messenger, lives in the +house."</p> + +<p>"No, no!" cried Sans-Cravate, going back into the street. "After all, +Paul was right when he said we ought not to play the spy on him, that +he's free to do what he pleases. I have a feeling that it's a mean +business to try to find out people's secrets. I don't like the job at +all. Let's go."</p> + +<p>Jean Ficelle said no more, but followed his comrade, in evident ill +humor, turning his head every minute to look at the house they had just +left. Suddenly he seized Sans-Cravate, who was a little ahead of him, by +the arm, and exclaimed in a shrill voice:</p> + +<p>"Look! there you have Paul's secret—coming out of that passageway. Ah! +I'd have bet my life on it!"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate turned, and saw Bastringuette come out of the house they +had just left and turn into Rue Barbette. The tall girl walked quite +slowly, and stopped for a moment to take out her handkerchief and wipe +her eyes, as if she had been crying; then she walked on.</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate had ample time to examine her; there was no doubt that it +was she. He even recognized the silk handkerchief she took from her +pocket, for it was a present he had given her. He could not take his +eyes<a name="vol_3_page_227" id="vol_3_page_227"></a> from his mistress; his face flushed, and his whole frame shook +convulsively.</p> + +<p>"It's her," he muttered; "in the same house with him. There's no mystery +now—they were together, that's clear as day, the traitors! and, of +course, to-day ain't the first time they've met there!"</p> + +<p>He started to run after Bastringuette, who had not seen him; and Jean +Ficelle, who hoped there would be a scene, rubbed his hands and smiled +to himself. But his hope was soon crushed; Sans-Cravate stopped, making +a mighty effort to restrain his passion, and retraced his steps.</p> + +<p>"No," he said, "I won't go after her; for I might forget myself. When +I'm angry, I don't know what I'm doing, and I might do some harm. No; +let's go in the other direction!"</p> + +<p>"Pardieu! suppose you did give her a beating—a jade that deceived +you—I don't see where there'd be any great harm done! Why shouldn't you +take that little satisfaction?"</p> + +<p>But Sans-Cravate was not listening; he had walked away, and was already +at some distance. Jean Ficelle finally decided to follow him, saying to +himself:</p> + +<p>"Never mind; he's out for good with his wench, and I'm quite sure the +young fellow will get what he deserves, when there's a good chance. Then +Sans-Cravate will consent to come and play a little game with his +friends, and I'll fleece him at <i>table-basse</i> or <i>biribi</i>."<a name="vol_3_page_228" id="vol_3_page_228"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>XV<br /><br /> +<small>THE DRESSMAKERS</small></h2> + +<p>Imagine eight young women assembled in a large room, called an +<i>atelier</i><a name="FNanchor_H_8" id="FNanchor_H_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_H_8" class="fnanchor">[H]</a> probably because it contains no furniture except a very +broad and long table and some chairs.</p> + +<p>On the table, which might be considered a counter as well, were +scattered different fabrics—silk, linen, cotton, and muslin; there was +a great number of small pieces, cut in different shapes; there were +dresses just begun, others almost finished, others still in the piece; +and there were ribbons, fringes, lace, and a multitude of the odds and +ends used by dressmakers, who have the art of imparting grace and value +to all such things; we men do very wrong to laugh at them, for they take +so much pains with their work solely to please us; and if women were not +coquettish, we should be the ones most taken in.</p> + +<p>The eight girls were seated around the <i>travail</i>—that is the name now +given to the large cutting table; it used to be called <i>établi</i>, but +that word is now used only by working people; and you must remember that +a dressmaker is not a workgirl, but an artist in dresses.</p> + +<p>The young women were from fifteen to twenty-eight years of age, the +average being about twenty-two. Some were very pretty, some exceedingly +ugly, and some had faces of the type which does not attract attention, +but which often pleases because it possesses what is commonly<a name="vol_3_page_229" id="vol_3_page_229"></a> called +<i>la beauté du diable</i>—that is to say, youth. If the devil always +retains that element of beauty, he is a very fortunate fellow; and we +know a great number of ladies, once beautiful, who would be well content +to-day with the <i>beauté du diable</i>.</p> + +<p>They were all sewing more or less busily, which fact did not prevent +their talking. Some had their faces bent over their work, and took +little part in the conversation; but there were several who talked +constantly, who were unwilling to keep silent even when one of the +others tried to tell something, and who, by talking very loudly, +succeeded in making themselves heard above all the rest. At times, this +produced a din of voices by no means pleasant to the ear; indeed, it was +not unworthy of the name of <i>charivari</i>.</p> + +<p>Young Elina was one of the eight; she was incontestably one of the +prettiest of them, also one of those who spoke least; she was superior +to her companions in every respect.</p> + +<p>One of the others, whose ugliness was most noticeable, and whose duty it +seemed to be to overlook the work, doubtless because she had no love +affairs to distract her thoughts, was also one of those whose mouths +were almost never closed. But a tall damsel of twenty-four, whose face +was not without charm and intelligence, but who was open to the reproach +of being somewhat too free in her speech and manner and expression, ran +a close second to the forewoman. A stenographer would have had much +difficulty in following those two when they were in a talking mood, so +to speak; and they almost always were.</p> + +<p>Now, let us listen to the conversation, and try, amid all that chaos, to +discover its subject and purport.<a name="vol_3_page_230" id="vol_3_page_230"></a></p> + +<p>"What have you done with the gray silk, Mademoiselle Laura?"</p> + +<p>"It's under your nose, you big goose; your nose is so long, you could +touch it with it."</p> + +<p>Mademoiselle Laura was the tall young woman we have mentioned; as she +worked and talked, she kept her hips in motion as if she were dancing +the <i>cachucha</i>. The forewoman's name was Mademoiselle Frotard, and she +who had asked for the silk was a stout girl whose intelligence seemed to +have been entirely absorbed by her corpulence; her name was Julienne, +but her companions took the liberty of calling her Julie, Jules, and +sometimes <i>Potage</i>. She had an excellent disposition and never lost her +temper.</p> + +<p>"Who's got the pink satin?"</p> + +<p>"That will be a handsome dress—satin and velvet. Is it for a duchess?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! it's for an actress at the Opéra-Comique; they dress ever so +much better than the great ladies."</p> + +<p>"Speaking of the Opéra-Comique, they say that there's boxes there with +salons; is that so, Mamzelle Laura?"</p> + +<p>"Well, rather, nephew."</p> + +<p>"Come, come, mesdemoiselles, we must work and not idle so; here's a +wedding dress that must be done to-morrow; Madame Dumanchon has promised +it."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me, we work well enough, mademoiselle; we don't take our +eyes off our work. What more do you expect us to do? We haven't got +twenty fingers!"</p> + +<p>"That's all right, Mademoiselle Augustine; do you think I don't see you +laughing and looking at Euphémie, who can't do anything but laugh? +Humph! how stupid it is to laugh all the time, at the least thing—and +often without knowing why!"<a name="vol_3_page_231" id="vol_3_page_231"></a></p> + +<p>"I never laugh without knowing what I'm laughing at, mademoiselle! +You're mistaken; I know very well what I'm laughing at."</p> + +<p>"Well, tell us what it was that amused you so just now."</p> + +<p>"Just now? why, I looked up and saw Jujules gaping and trying to sneeze +at the same time; and she made up such an absurd face! Ha! ha! ha! she +looked exactly like the milkwoman's donkey at the corner of the street."</p> + +<p>"I, look like a donkey!"</p> + +<p>"Hush, Potage, you haven't got the floor! I belch it from you, as an +ancient orator said."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Mademoiselle Laura, for heaven's sake, be a little more decent in +your language; you often say things that ought not be said in a workroom +of young ladies; Madame Dumanchon don't like it, and she holds me +responsible."</p> + +<p>"What's that? what are you singing to us? You accuse me of being +indecent just because I say: 'I belch it from you'! That's a little +rough, on my word! if you read the least bit of history, you'd know that +anecdote, which isn't the least bit immoral, Mademoiselle Frotard; and +for all you're so squeamish to-day, I've heard you sometimes fire words +at us—I don't know where you picked 'em up, but they were a little +tough."</p> + +<p>"I, fire words at you!—Oh! if I went to the Bal Saint-Georges, like +you, I might learn some very pretty things; but I defy anyone to say +they ever saw me in such places."</p> + +<p>"It's just as well you don't go; what would you do there? you probably +wouldn't be invited to dance! and that would make you sick. By the way, +let me tell you that the Bal Saint-Georges is a very nice place; the +company there's a very good sort, and I pride myself on being one of the +most regular attendants at these<a name="vol_3_page_232" id="vol_3_page_232"></a> Ball-Clubs, as the wrinkled old +<i>gentlemen</i> call 'em, who go there to dance the <i>anglaise</i> and other +national jigs."</p> + +<p>"Where's the piece of velvet I just put down here? Have any of you taken +it, mesdemoiselles?"</p> + +<p>"You've got it in your dress."</p> + +<p>"So I have; great heaven! what was I thinking about?"</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! she sticks things in her bosom and then goes looking for 'em! +She'll end by looking for her nose."</p> + +<p>"And she won't find it; she's flat-nosed."</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! ha!"</p> + +<p>"Good! there goes Euphémie again!"</p> + +<p>"Bless my soul! how can I help laughing, when you say such silly +things?"</p> + +<p>"Look at Elina—she don't laugh, and she don't keep her tongue clacking; +so she gets ahead with her skirt."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Elina's preoccupied; she's been very pensive for some time; that's +why she don't talk."</p> + +<p>"I didn't suppose I was forbidden to think," rejoined little Elina +gravely, and without raising her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Of course not; thoughts are free, and they use their freedom! they're +very lucky, our thoughts are; they can travel, they can run about the +fields and go into whatever company they choose; while we have to sit +here, planted on our chairs, and sew all day long! God! what fun! When +shall I have a million a year, so that I can coddle myself and sleep and +eat méringues all day? Oh! méringues—they're a high-toned delicacy, I +tell you!"</p> + +<p>"What are they made of?" asked stout Julienne, looking at Laura, who +replied with the utmost seriousness:</p> + +<p>"Preserved snails. The next time you go into a confectioner's, ask him +for a snail méringue, and see how good it is!"<a name="vol_3_page_233" id="vol_3_page_233"></a></p> + +<p>"Come, come, mesdemoiselles, we mustn't talk so much. Madame will soon +be back, and this ball dress don't get on at all; and, you know, we +still have two wedding dresses to finish this week."</p> + +<p>"Two wedding dresses! Everybody seems to be getting married! I don't +know why nobody marries me;—and you, Julienne, wouldn't you like to get +married?"</p> + +<p>"Me? oh, no, mademoiselle! on the contrary, I'd hate it."</p> + +<p>"You would? Why, pray?"</p> + +<p>"Because my cousin told me that when you're married you can't sleep +alone any more; and I like to kick my legs about in bed, and I know it +would bother me to have someone with me."</p> + +<p>"Oh! what a simpleton you are, big Julienne! you sleep with your +husband, and that don't prevent your kicking your legs about—not by any +means!"</p> + +<p>"How do you know that, Mamzelle Laura? Are you married?"</p> + +<p>Mademoiselle Laura contented herself with an impatient gesture, +muttering:</p> + +<p>"Do let me finish; you disturb me when I am trying to make Turkish +points. Oh! what a sigh Elina just gave! Haven't you finished moving, +young dreamer?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, mademoiselle; it was all done this morning."</p> + +<p>"Ah! that's why you came later than usual?"</p> + +<p>"I spoke to Mademoiselle Frotard about it."</p> + +<p>"Who moved you? Was it Sans-Cravate, the Lovelace of the cooks of the +neighborhood?"</p> + +<p>"No, mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>"Then it must have been his mate—Jean Ficelle. He's a very clever +youth. I sent him once to carry a letter to someone, on important +business, and I saw that he<a name="vol_3_page_234" id="vol_3_page_234"></a> was full of intelligence.—Pass me the +Scotch thread, Sophie."</p> + +<p>"Oh! mesdemoiselles, you know very well that Elina has a messenger she +always patronizes—one Paul, who puts on airs when we pass, which I +consider altogether too cheeky; I propose to tell that young man of the +people what I think of him some fine day!"</p> + +<p>"Isn't a messenger as good as other men?" muttered little Elina, +angrily. "Why hasn't he the right to look at us?"</p> + +<p>"As good as other men! a messenger!" cried a young woman with an +affected manner, a mocking smile, and a shrill voice; "fellows who live +on street corners or in wine shops! Great God! if one of them should +presume to stare at me very long, I'd soon show him his place."</p> + +<p>"What nonsense!" said stout Julienne; "they're always in their place!"</p> + +<p>"You see, I haven't any low tastes. I wouldn't go out with a man who +didn't have gloves and trouser-straps!"</p> + +<p>"Oho! she reminds me of that tall Hélène who used to work here, and had +the brass to say to us: 'I don't go with any men but those that have red +morocco boot tops; I don't have anything to say to a man who has black +leather ones, because they don't go with patent-leather boots.'"</p> + +<p>"I didn't know that honest men were canaille," retorted Elina, flushing +with anger; "I thought no one was ever called by that name but villains +and rascals."</p> + +<p>"Hallo! here's Elina showing fight!" cried Laura; "<i>dame!</i> you attacked +her on a sensitive spot. Bah! I've broken my needle; that's the fifth +one to-day. That makes Euphémie laugh. It's very funny, ain't it?"<a name="vol_3_page_235" id="vol_3_page_235"></a></p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! ha! five needles [<i>aiguilles</i>]! I thought she said five eels +[<i>anguilles</i>]!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! my dear, eels don't break; you can do whatever you please with +eels—even to making a <i>matelote</i>."</p> + +<p>"I know a song about 'em," said Julienne, "where it's said that eels are +like young girls."</p> + +<p>"The deuce! Potage has made me prick myself," rejoined Mademoiselle +Laura; "she refers to something they sing at the Opéra-Comique:</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"'Eels and young girls alike,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .6em;">All's fish that comes to my net.'</span></td></tr> +</table> + +<p>There you have it; I heard it in <i>Mazaniello;</i> and that's a mighty fine +opera, I tell you! I saw it at a theatre in the suburbs, where they had +three supers to represent the Neapolitan populace in revolt; one of the +three was a little old man of fifty or sixty, with a red cap, who kept +running into the wings to turn up a lamp that threatened to go out, and +finally took the lamp down altogether and held it in his hands during +the grand final chorus, of which the words were:</p> + +<p class="c">"'Death, death to the tyrants!'</p> + +<p>I believe. And when he was singing, as he was anxious to put spirit into +it, he waved the lamp as if he was threatening the audience, so it +seemed as if he intended to kill the tyrants with lamp oil. At last, +right in the middle of the chorus, one of the three musicians who +composed the orchestra stood up and shouted, as mad as you please: +'<i>Sacrédié!</i> Monsieur Fiston, don't hold your arm out so far; you're +throwing oil on me! My coat's all spotted! Is it the fashion now to sing +in opera with a lamp in your hand?'—Mon Dieu! I never laughed so much +in all my life!"<a name="vol_3_page_236" id="vol_3_page_236"></a></p> + +<p>"What a lucky creature that Laura is! she goes to the theatre very +often."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I used to go much oftener. I had an acquaintance who stuffed me +with tickets and all sorts of delicacies."</p> + +<p>"A gentleman?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure—and a very pretty fellow he was. I never saw a man wear his +cravat so jauntily; he used to tie it in the most enticing rosette——"</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle Laura, you're beginning to say improper things again!"</p> + +<p>"Pshaw! Mademoiselle Frotard, is there any law against my knowing a +good-looking man? I believe I have a right to have known more than one; +I'm twenty-four; I don't make any secret of my age, and I don't play the +prude. I certainly don't claim to be a perfect innocent——"</p> + +<p>"I'd like to see those boxes with salons; I shan't be happy till I've +been in one."</p> + +<p>"You must get your lover to take you, some day when he's in funds."</p> + +<p>"My lover's never in funds; I don't know what he does with his money; he +wouldn't treat me to a glass of cider! He pretends that he puts every +sou in the savings bank against the time we get married."</p> + +<p>"Believe that and drink water, my poor Sophie!—Pins, please."</p> + +<p>"The large scissors."</p> + +<p>"Here they are."</p> + +<p>"However, he took me to the theatre once, because somebody'd given him +the tickets. That day, I remember, we dined in my room, on very little, +and I was very hungry at the theatre; it was a theatre on the boulevard, +and the play was a long melodrama. At half-past eleven<a name="vol_3_page_237" id="vol_3_page_237"></a> we still had +four acts to see. But in the play, where the scene was a farmhouse, and +peasants coming home from work, all of a sudden they brought on a big +wooden bowl and went to eating cabbage soup. It was real cabbage soup, I +can tell you, and it was smoking hot and smelt awful good. Imagine the +effect it produced on us, hungry as we were!—'I've a good mind to apply +at once to be admitted to the chorus,' I says to Oscar; but he had +already got up and opened the door of the box, where we were all alone, +and called the opener; when she came, I heard him say: 'Madame, my +wife's in a situation where it ain't safe to refuse her anything—a +situation in which women are subject to the strangest whims and the most +extraordinary desires; you understand what I mean—she's enceinte. Well, +after a dinner fit for the angels, at Véry's, here she is acting like a +madwoman because she smells the cabbage soup they're eating on the +stage. She wants some of it, says she must have it, and threatens me +with a plate of soup as offspring if I don't satisfy her craving. Isn't +there some way of doing it, madame? there's no sacrifice I'm not capable +of making to prevent my wife's giving me a cabbage for a son.'—The +opener, hoping to be handsomely paid, replied: 'Never fear, monsieur; +I'll just go down and tell 'em at the office, and they'll send word on +to the stage; your wife shall have some cabbage soup, I promise +you.'—'A thousand thanks, madame,' says Oscar. 'Please go and ask for a +lot of it at once, for in her present condition, when we dine at a +restaurant, my wife always eats soup enough for four, and it doesn't do +her a bit of harm.'—The box opener went off, and Oscar came back to his +seat. You can judge whether I wanted to laugh. 'Keep quiet,' says my +lover, 'and try to look as if you<a name="vol_3_page_238" id="vol_3_page_238"></a> were in the condition I said you +were; we are going to sup at the expense of the management; it won't +hurt them, and it will give us great pleasure.'—And, sure enough, in a +few minutes the opener came into the box with a pretty little soup +tureen, a deep plate, and a spoon, which she offered me with a most +amiable smile.—'Madame shall have all she wants,' she says; 'they've +filled the tureen, so that madame can satisfy her craving.'—'You are a +thousand times too good,' says Oscar; 'but I hope that you will be +satisfied with me, too.'—With that, the woman bows to the ground, and +goes off, shutting the door behind her. No sooner were we alone, than +Oscar filled the plate for me, but kept the spoon and began to gulp down +all that was left in the tureen; as there was only one spoon, I had to +wait till he'd finished before I could eat my plateful; but the soup was +fine, I assure you. When we had finished, Oscar called the box opener +again, and gave her the tureen and plate and spoon.—'Would you believe +that my wife would eat it all!' he says. 'It's incredible what feats a +woman in her condition will perform!'—The opener said that she was +delighted that I had satisfied my craving, and off she went again with +the things we had given back to her. As soon as she was out of sight, my +lover says to me: 'Put on your hat and shawl, and be all ready to +go.'—Then he looked out in the corridor, but was flabbergasted to see +our box opener sitting there in her chair; she had given the things to a +lemonade boy to carry back to the stage. Oscar swore between his teeth, +but as he was one of the kind that's never embarrassed, he says: 'Wait +till the end of the next act.'—The act ended very soon; then he +motioned to me to get up, I took his arm, and we went out of the box. I +leaned on him as<a name="vol_3_page_239" id="vol_3_page_239"></a> if it was very hard for me to walk. As we passed the +opener, Oscar says to her: 'What do you suppose it is now, madame? this +wife of mine insists on having an ice. Gad! what strange ideas Nature +has!'—'But, monsieur, you could just as well have had it brought to +your box.'—'True, but I think it won't do my wife any harm to have a +breath of air. Keep our seats for us, madame; is it a long +intermission?'—'Not very, monsieur.'—'Come, then, my dear love; let's +make haste, for I'm very much interested in the play, and I don't want +to lose a scene. Be sure and keep our box for us, madame.'—With that, +Oscar pulled me along, and we left the theatre, with not the slightest +desire to return. The box opener didn't even get the price of the +cricket she had pushed under my feet. And that's the only time my lover +ever treated me."</p> + +<p>Mademoiselle Sophie's anecdote greatly amused the young dressmaking +apprentices. Mademoiselle Euphémie could not control her outbursts of +laughter, and the corpulent Julienne cried:</p> + +<p>"But it would have been much more convenient for eating, if they'd had a +box with a salon. There must be plates and glasses in those boxes."</p> + +<p>"They even have a kitchen at one side," said tall Laura, "with +everything you need to roast a joint."</p> + +<p>"Oh! what fun it must be to see a play and turn the spit at the same +time!"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! how you do chatter to-day, mesdemoiselles! If this nonsense +goes on, we shan't be able to deliver our orders."</p> + +<p>"Talking don't prevent sewing, mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>"We haven't any reason to be dismal," said the girl with the affected +manners.—"By the way, mesdemoiselles, I saw our old comrade Léonie +yesterday. She had the<a name="vol_3_page_240" id="vol_3_page_240"></a> arm of a man who didn't have any style at +all—and who was dressed like a messenger!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! some women have such vile taste!"</p> + +<p>"They stoop so low!"</p> + +<p>"There are some who wouldn't blush to love a bootblack."</p> + +<p>"A messenger and a bootblack are the same thing."</p> + +<p>"Do you think so, Euphémie?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure; when you want to have your shoes polished, you go up to a +messenger and put your foot on his <i>crochets</i>, and he's obliged to +polish 'em right away."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! but what if he don't have any polish?"</p> + +<p>"That don't make any difference. Besides, those fellows always do have; +they lend their things to each other."</p> + +<p>"I must treat myself to a shine, then. Two sous is enough to pay, and +I'll have my shoes shined by young Paul, the messenger who plays the +swell."</p> + +<p>Little Elina said nothing, but held her head still lower over her work; +for her eyes were full of tears, she was choking with vexation and +anger, and she did not want them to see her weep.</p> + +<p>Luckily, Madame Dumanchon's arrival put an end to this conversation. +When their mistress was present, the girls dared not talk or laugh or +sing; they had to content themselves with looking at one another from +time to time, and making signs or wry faces.</p> + +<p>Elina left the workroom with a heavy heart and eyes still red with +weeping.</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! how spiteful those girls are!" she said to herself. "But what +would they say if they knew that poor Paul, whom they sneer at so, is +also a foundling? But all that doesn't prevent my loving him, for I'm +sure that he's honest and good, and that he loves me. Oh!<a name="vol_3_page_241" id="vol_3_page_241"></a> his voice +rang so true when he told me. And it seems to me that, for all his +humble condition, he has better manners and expresses himself better +than any of the men who come to speak to the girls sometimes."</p> + +<p>To help her to forget the chagrin she had felt in the workroom, she +hurried across the street to say good-night to Paul before returning to +her aunt's. But her hope was disappointed: Paul was not in his place, +and, having looked about to see if she could discover him anywhere, +Elina sadly went home, flattering herself that she would have better +luck the next day.</p> + +<p>The next day came; Elina, who had slept very little and dreamed a great +deal,—which seems, at first glance, a difficult feat, yet happens not +infrequently,—descended from her loft, dressed with care, looked at +herself in her mirror oftener than usual, to make sure that her hair was +becomingly arranged, and left the house, saying in reply to her aunt, +who asked her where she was going so early, that there was a press of +work, and that Madame Dumanchon had urged them to come in good season.</p> + +<p>"There ought not to be many people in the street as yet," thought Elina, +as she went downstairs; "and we shall have time to talk a little. I am +sure he's as anxious for a little talk as I am."</p> + +<p>She walked rapidly from her home to the dressmaker's, and when she +reached the corner of the boulevard glanced toward Paul's usual stand; +but he was not there, and there were no <i>crochets</i> or jacket to indicate +that he had been there.</p> + +<p>"It seems that he is less eager to see me than I am to see him," +murmured Elina, with a sigh. "But he may have business this morning, +some errand a long way off—so that it isn't his fault that he isn't +here. Oh, yes! that<a name="vol_3_page_242" id="vol_3_page_242"></a> must be it, for it isn't possible that he doesn't +want to see me this morning."</p> + +<p>Reflecting that it was still very early to go to her work, the girl +walked some distance along the boulevard, then returned to the corner of +Rue du Helder. Paul had not arrived, but his two comrades, Sans-Cravate +and Jean Ficelle, were in their places.</p> + +<p>Elina hesitated, walked away a few steps, then returned to the +boulevard, saying to herself:</p> + +<p>"But I haven't bought anything yet for my breakfast and dinner; still, I +must live to-day, so I will go and buy something; meanwhile, he will +come; as his comrades have arrived, he must be here soon."</p> + +<p>She walked along the boulevard, going from one shop to another, +hesitating between the pastry-cook and the grocer, between a loaf of +bread and some <i>galette</i>, between honey and jam, in order to spend more +time about it and to give Paul an opportunity to arrive. But she had to +make up her mind at last. She returned to Rue du Helder with a portion +of <i>galette</i>, which she had no desire to taste; but Paul was not in his +place. She must needs resign herself to the necessity of going to her +work without speaking to Paul, without even catching a glimpse of him.</p> + +<p>All day long, her feet itched; she tried to invent pretexts for going +out, she offered to do all the errands; but her zeal was unrewarded, she +was not sent out; and the more eagerness she manifested, the more +determined Mademoiselle Frotard seemed to be that she should not go. So +that she was compelled to wait until evening.</p> + +<p>As soon as the hour for ceasing work had come, she went away among the +first; and when she reached the street, she gazed anxiously about. But +her heart fell, her hope vanished; Paul was not there.<a name="vol_3_page_243" id="vol_3_page_243"></a></p> + +<p>To be unable to see the person whom one loves best, to have no idea +where he is, or what is the cause of his absence—is not that enough to +make one exceedingly unhappy, and have we not all had that experience? +Profound discouragement and gloom seize upon our hearts at such times, +and it seems to us that all is lost, that our happy days have vanished, +never to return.</p> + +<p>In this frame of mind, Elina returned to her aunt's; she could find no +hope elsewhere than in her little loft, because there everything spoke +to her of Paul, because it was there that he had first told her that he +loved her.</p> + +<p>The next day, Elina rose as early, dressed even more quickly, and +hastily left the house. She was no more fortunate than on the preceding +day: the young messenger was not in his place; she loitered about and +waited, to no purpose; nor did she see him that evening, when she left +her work.</p> + +<p>A week passed thus, a week which seemed endless to Elina, who was +utterly unable to understand Paul's disappearance, and did not know what +to think; but her heart was oppressed by anxiety and the keenest sorrow. +At last, on the ninth day, when she arrived at Rue du Helder in the +morning and looked in vain for Paul, the girl could no longer endure the +tortures she was suffering, and accosted Sans-Cravate and Jean Ficelle, +who were seated side by side.</p> + +<p>"I wanted to speak to your comrade—Monsieur Paul," she said, in a +trembling voice; "doesn't he stand here any more?"</p> + +<p>"You can see for yourself," replied Sans-Cravate, with his usual +gruffness, intensified by the anger he felt whenever he heard Paul's +name.<a name="vol_3_page_244" id="vol_3_page_244"></a></p> + +<p>Elina was going away, afraid to ask any further questions, when Jean +Ficelle said to her, in a wheedling tone:</p> + +<p>"If mademoiselle wanted someone to do an errand or carry a letter, or +anything else, I am at her service, and I can do what's wanted as well +as the one she asks for."</p> + +<p>"I thank you," replied Elina, "but I didn't ask for Monsieur Paul, to do +an errand; that is to say, it was about something I asked him to do; he +was to bring me an answer—and I haven't seen him for a week."</p> + +<p>"Sure enough, mamzelle; he hasn't been in his place for as long as +that."</p> + +<p>"And you don't know what keeps him away? Perhaps he is sick?"</p> + +<p>Jean Ficelle replied, with a cunning smile:</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! that ain't the reason he ain't here."</p> + +<p>"It isn't? Why, do you know what the reason is?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Dame!</i> we have our suspicions. In the first place, perhaps he ain't a +messenger any longer; he had more than one trade."</p> + +<p>"More than one trade? What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! there's something mysterious about it; he's a man of mystery, is +your Monsieur Paul."</p> + +<p>"I don't understand."</p> + +<p>"The fellow didn't tell everything he did, you see; and then, there may +be another reason. As the young joker has stolen Sans-Cravate's +mistress, he's afraid of getting a licking, and dursn't come and stand +beside him—see?"</p> + +<p>"And he does well," muttered Sans-Cravate, clenching his fists; "for a +man can't always control himself; and, <i>sacrédié!</i> he'd better look out! +I've got a score to settle with him, all the more because he was my +friend; and when you hate your friends, you hate 'em worse than you do +anybody else."<a name="vol_3_page_245" id="vol_3_page_245"></a></p> + +<p>Elina had turned very pale; she gazed at the two messengers in turn, but +could not speak, for what she had heard seemed to have deprived her of +strength and voice alike; not until several minutes had elapsed did she +succeed in faltering:</p> + +<p>"What! Monsieur Paul—has stolen—the mistress of—of—— Oh, no! no! +that is impossible!"</p> + +<p>"Impossible!" sneered Jean Ficelle. "Ah! my pretty creature, you don't +know men yet, and you don't know what they're capable of. But we're sure +of what we say; we caught the thief in the market, as the saying is. +Look you, I'll give you a comparison——"</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur, no! I don't care what you say!" replied the girl, paying +no heed to Jean Ficelle's comparison; "I am perfectly sure that that +isn't true!"</p> + +<p>With that, Elina turned away, putting her handkerchief to her eyes to +wipe away her tears; for she was profoundly afflicted, although she +refused to believe that Paul was guilty.</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate looked after her with interest as she walked away.</p> + +<p>"Poor girl!" he said; "she don't believe he's unfaithful; she still has +confidence in him, she refuses to abandon it; that's a fine thing, I +tell you."</p> + +<p>And a gleam of serenity appeared on the messenger's brow as he asked +himself if he were not doing wrong not to imitate the girl. But Jean +Ficelle exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"<i>Ouiche!</i> she has confidence in him, you say? Not much! It was +self-esteem made her say that, but she ran off crying like a baby."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate resumed his preoccupied air, and Jean Ficelle began to +whistle.<a name="vol_3_page_246" id="vol_3_page_246"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="XVI" id="XVI"></a>XVI<br /><br /> +<small>THE HUNT FOR TOBIE</small></h2> + +<p>Albert desired to see the beautiful cashmere shawl belonging to Madame +Plays, the mate to which Madame Baldimer was so desirous to own. But in +order to see the shawl, it was necessary to see her who wore it, and the +young man was not certain whether it would be well for him to call on +Madame Plays; after the slightly unceremonious way in which he had +ceased his relations with her, sending Tobie as his substitute, he had +reason to fear that he might not be warmly welcomed; indeed, he was not +at all certain that his messenger had been well received, for when +Pigeonnier returned from his interview, Albert was losing money at +bouillotte, and was somewhat heated by the punch, so that he had paid no +attention to the little fellow's answers on the subject of his +rendezvous.</p> + +<p>Albert concluded that the best way to find out whether Tobie had fully +taken his place in the heart of the superb Plays was to go and ask him. +But to do that it was necessary to know his address. Tobie had said +several times that he lived on Rue de la Ferme-des-Mathurins; but that +is a long street, and Albert felt no inclination to enter every house +and ask for Monsieur Pigeonnier.</p> + +<p>He was musing upon this subject on the day following his visit to Madame +Baldimer, as he sauntered along the Boulevard des Italiens, as usual, +with a cigar in his mouth,<a name="vol_3_page_247" id="vol_3_page_247"></a> when he spied his friend Célestin, who at +once came to meet him and held out his hand.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning! how are you?"</p> + +<p>"Very well."</p> + +<p>"And the love affairs?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! not in bad shape."</p> + +<p>"I'll bet that you have seen Madame Baldimer again."</p> + +<p>"You would not lose. I saw her at her house yesterday; she had given me +a rendezvous. My affair is progressing, and on her return from the +country, where she has gone for a few days, I hope that your friend will +have nothing more to wish for."</p> + +<p>"Good! I congratulate you."</p> + +<p>There was a touch of irony in Monsieur Célestin's felicitations of his +friend. Albert paid little attention to it, because he was accustomed to +Célestin's manner, which always suggested that he was laughing at the +person to whom he was speaking. That is a very clever way of concealing +one's lack of merit—to pose as a scoffer or a <i>blagueur</i>, which are +much the same thing.</p> + +<p>"I am very glad to see you; perhaps you can help me to find the person I +want to see."</p> + +<p>"If you are looking for a faithful woman, I should find it very hard to +direct you to one; for I don't know any."</p> + +<p>"No, not that; I simply want to know Tobie Pigeonnier's address."</p> + +<p>"The deuce! that's almost as hard to find as the other. In the first +place, is it quite certain that little Tobie has any address? I believe +he contents himself with perching, like the birds; he lights now here, +now there."</p> + +<p>"Let's not joke; he told us that he lived on Rue de la +Ferme-des-Mathurins."<a name="vol_3_page_248" id="vol_3_page_248"></a></p> + +<p>"True; but at what number?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! that I don't know."</p> + +<p>"It's very easy to say: 'I live on Rue de la Ferme-des-Mathurins, or Rue +de la Paix, or Rue de Rivoli,'—when you confine yourself to that;—in +that way, you can live in the most fashionable quarters of Paris. For my +own part, I believe little Tobie has a nest in some closet on Rue du +Pont-aux-Biches or Place du Chevalier-du-Guet. His hasty departure from +our little party at Balivan's the night before last—after putting up a +fetich for five hundred francs, that poor Varinet gave him change +for—— Do you know, that looks rather shady to me. If he had lost the +five hundred francs, it would be all right; you would say that it +probably wasn't convenient for him to pay; but he lost only about +fifty."</p> + +<p>"Didn't he go to pay Varinet the next day?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, but I'll bet he didn't; however, we can soon find out, +for there are Varinet and Balivan now, drinking chocolate at Tortoni's."</p> + +<p>Albert and Célestin entered the café and accosted their friends, just as +Balivan was dipping his cigar in the chocolate, thinking that it was a +roll.</p> + +<p>"Ah! here you are, you rakes!" cried Balivan; "have you been passing a +night at the card table? What scandalous conduct! you are to blame for +my not being able to do a stroke of work yesterday."</p> + +<p>"But you are working hard to-day, Balivan. Upon my word, you are eating +a fine cigar with your chocolate, instead of a roll!"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! so I am. Why do they make cigars of this shape? I took it for +a <i>gaufre</i>,<a name="FNanchor_I_9" id="FNanchor_I_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_I_9" class="fnanchor">[I]</a> and I adore <i>gaufres</i> in chocolate."<a name="vol_3_page_249" id="vol_3_page_249"></a></p> + +<p>"We came to ask you about young Tobie, messieurs.—Have you seen him +since night before last, Monsieur Varinet?"</p> + +<p>"Who in the devil is Monsieur Tobie?" queried the white-eyebrowed young +man, in amazement.</p> + +<p>"The individual of the fetich—the olive."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! the man who put up an olive at five hundred francs."</p> + +<p>"The same. Has he been to you to pay his debt and redeem his pledge?"</p> + +<p>"No; and to prove it, I'll show you that I still have it in my purse."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Varinet drew his purse and showed them the olive among some +gold pieces; it had dried and had shrunk considerably.</p> + +<p>"If you keep the thing much longer," said Balivan, "you'll have nothing +left but the stone."</p> + +<p>"Do you know Tobie's address, messieurs?" asked Albert.</p> + +<p>"No," replied the painter; "if I knew it, I should have gone there +before this to remind him of his fetich, which he has not redeemed. As +it was at my rooms that he contracted that debt to Monsieur Varinet, +whom he had never seen but once before, I consider it infernally +ill-bred in him not to have paid up at once."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I am not at all alarmed," said Varinet, calmly.</p> + +<p>"But I must see this little Tobie," said Albert; "and I will not fail to +remind him of his debt; for it would be exceedingly unpleasant for us to +have Monsieur Varinet fall a victim to his confidence in a person whom +he had reason to look upon as a friend of ours."</p> + +<p>"What's all this? what friends are you talking about?" said the jovial +Mouillot, as he joined the four young men<a name="vol_3_page_250" id="vol_3_page_250"></a> and shook hands with them. "I +have just seen Dupétrain talking with a lady on Rue de Richelieu, +messieurs; he had her backed up against a porte cochère, and, in my +opinion, he was trying to magnetize her on the carriage stone."</p> + +<p>"Ah! it's Mouillot!"</p> + +<p>"How much did you win at bouillotte the night before last, Mouillot?"</p> + +<p>"Six hundred and twenty francs; that's all."</p> + +<p>"What a lucky dog he is! he always wins."</p> + +<p>"Do you know Tobie's address, Mouillot?"</p> + +<p>"Tobie's address? how should I know it? he never asks one to come and +see him. When he invites his friends to breakfast, the mice will dance +the cancan! By the way, has he redeemed his fetich?"</p> + +<p>"No; Varinet hasn't seen him."</p> + +<p>"Poor Varinet! that olive must be a little stale."</p> + +<p>"So you don't know Monsieur Pigeonnier's address?"</p> + +<p>"Not I."</p> + +<p>"The first time that I had the honor of seeing the gentleman," said +Varinet, swallowing a glass of water, "he told me that he was a +commission merchant. If that is so, his name and address ought to be in +the directory."</p> + +<p>The other young men laughed heartily at Varinet's suggestion.</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! commission merchant!"</p> + +<p>"That kind is never in the directory!"</p> + +<p>"I'm not sure even that he's an unlicensed broker."<a name="FNanchor_J_10" id="FNanchor_J_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_J_10" class="fnanchor">[J]</a></p> + +<p>"It's so easy in Paris to pretend to be what you are not!"</p> + +<p>"There are many people who go so far as to assume names that don't +belong to them."<a name="vol_3_page_251" id="vol_3_page_251"></a></p> + +<p>"And who often succeed in making dupes, under the shelter of an +honorable name."</p> + +<p>"What is there that is never stolen in Paris?"</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Monsieur Varinet, desiring to satisfy his mind on the +subject, sent the waiter for a business directory; they consulted the +bulky volume, but they sought in vain the name of Tobie Pigeonnier, and +the tall young man with white eyebrows began to frown as he looked at +his olive.</p> + +<p>"Listen, messieurs," said Albert; "we must not allow Monsieur Varinet to +fall a victim to his confidence in a person to whom he was introduced by +us. I don't say that Tobie intends to deny his debt, nor do I think so; +but, lest he forget it, I make this proposition—that we beat up +Monsieur Pigeonnier, we four, who know the city pretty well. I will take +the Chaussée d'Antin, the Faubourg Saint-Honoré, and the +Champs-Élysées."</p> + +<p>"I, the Marais and the Palais-Royal quarter," said Balivan.</p> + +<p>"I will look out for the Faubourg Saint-Germain and the boulevards," +said Célestin.</p> + +<p>"And I," cried Mouillot, "I go everywhere, in all directions, and I will +take care of the rest. The first one who sees Tobie must capture him and +take him to Varinet's house, or bring him here: this will be our general +rendezvous. We will come here every morning to report the result of our +search."</p> + +<p>"Agreed; we will go Tobie-hunting."</p> + +<p>"Tobie-hunting it is! Tally-ho!"</p> + +<p>"But one suggestion, messieurs," said Mouillot; "I don't see why this +hunt should interfere with our hunting grisettes also. How about your +little neighbor, Balivan? She is really charming, do you know? What are +you doing with her?"<a name="vol_3_page_252" id="vol_3_page_252"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh! I assure you, messieurs, that young woman is very virtuous, and I +don't advise you to think about her—it will be time thrown away."</p> + +<p>"Virtuous!" repeated Célestin, with a shrug; "I thought you knew more +than that about the sex, my dear artist! We found your little virtue in +a dark loft, with a young rascal, who was holding her very tight—and +for whom I have a rod in pickle; but he wasn't in his usual place this +morning."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense," said Albert; "you don't propose to fight with a messenger, I +trust! and, after all, if he is her lover, he was quite right to defend +the girl."</p> + +<p>"Oho! here's Albert taking up the cudgels for the dressmaker! it's +highly edifying.—I propose a wager, Mouillot: fifteen napoleons that I +triumph first over that timid virtue."</p> + +<p>"Done! I take the bet.—Are you in it, Albert?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Albert is too busily occupied elsewhere," said Célestin, in a mocking +tone; "and, besides that, don't you see that he has set himself up as +the defender of grisettes?"</p> + +<p>"Messieurs," interposed Balivan, "I assure you that neither one of you +will win. My neighbor won't listen to you."</p> + +<p>"You'll see whether she will or not, artist. I will be persistent, I +tell you; not so much on account of the girl, as to be revenged on that +cur who played the insolent with us. He does our errands, and he dares +to talk back to us! upon my word, it is sickening!"</p> + +<p>The young men had left the café and were about to separate, when +Bastringuette passed them on the boulevard, with her flowers.<a name="vol_3_page_253" id="vol_3_page_253"></a></p> + +<p>"There's Bastringuette!" exclaimed Albert; "parbleu! she is always out +of doors—she must help us in our hunt for Tobie."</p> + +<p>"True, she can act as beater," said Mouillot.</p> + +<p>The young men walked toward the flower girl, and halted in front of her. +Bastringuette looked up at them.</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu!" she ejaculated; "what a bunch of customers to fall on me all +at once! What luck for me! for I haven't sold anything to-day. Buy my +flowers, messieurs; I have something to put in your buttonholes."</p> + +<p>"Bastringuette," said Albert, "do you remember the young man who was +with us the day before yesterday on the boulevard? the one who thrust +his nose into all your bouquets to smell them better?"</p> + +<p>"You mean a fat little fellow with a face that looked like a painting, +and a small glass in one eye?"</p> + +<p>"That's the man, you know him."</p> + +<p>"Well, we are hunting him."</p> + +<p>"Is he a stag?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; we are even afraid that he's a kite!"<a name="FNanchor_K_11" id="FNanchor_K_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_K_11" class="fnanchor">[K]</a></p> + +<p>"A kite! and you want to hitch something to his tail, so that he'll go +up straighter."</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! ha! On the contrary, we're running after him to prevent his +flying at all. If you see him, tell him a lady wants to see him at +Tortoni's."</p> + +<p>"No, no, messieurs; Tobie wouldn't believe that; he knows that ladies +don't often go to Tortoni's, and that they wouldn't give him a +rendezvous there; the best way would be to have Bastringuette tell our +man that a lady, who wishes to see him alone, will expect him, at nine +in the evening, at the—the—Pâté des Italiens.—You might even give him +a handsome bouquet, and tell him<a name="vol_3_page_254" id="vol_3_page_254"></a> that the lady sent it to him. And when +you have done it, just tell one of the waiters in the café, and he will +inform us; we all go there every day."</p> + +<p>"Bravo!" said Mouillot; "that's an excellent scheme; if our flower girl +here sees Tobie and tells him that, he will surely fall into the trap, +and we'll nab our man at the Pâté des Italiens."</p> + +<p>"Well, Bastringuette, will you do what we want?"</p> + +<p>"Why not?—that is, if I see the man."</p> + +<p>"Oh! you will surely see him! But what's the trouble, Bastringuette? you +don't seem in as good spirits as usual to-day; has there been any +difficulty in our love affairs?"</p> + +<p>The tall girl replaced her tray on her hip, with a sigh, and answered:</p> + +<p>"My love affairs! Oh! they're all done with; they've gone to bed."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean? Has Sans-Cravate been unfaithful to you?"</p> + +<p>"Just the opposite; I tried to be to him."</p> + +<p>"Bravo! good enough! that's frank, at all events! Agree, messieurs, that +very few women who act like Bastringuette would answer as she did."</p> + +<p>"Oh! bless my soul! I don't take four roads to get to a place. I don't +know how to hide my passions. I didn't want to deceive Sans-Cravate, so +I told him that I didn't love him any more."</p> + +<p>"And he tried to force you to stay with him—to love him?"</p> + +<p>"Not much! as if a man could force a woman to do such things when it +don't suit her! You're pretty countrified still, if you think that. A +woman ain't to be forced—I don't care how many keys and picklocks you +have. When she don't choose to—good-day!"<a name="vol_3_page_255" id="vol_3_page_255"></a></p> + +<p>"Well, then, why are you so dismal? is your new love affair going wrong +already?"</p> + +<p>"I tell you that I haven't got any love affair—that I don't propose to +have any more!"</p> + +<p>"But you say you tried to be unfaithful to Sans-Cravate?"</p> + +<p>"That's all right! that's my business, my secret; it don't concern you! +Are you my fathers and mothers, to cross-examine me like this?"</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! beware, messieurs, our ally is on the point of losing her +temper."</p> + +<p>"Here, Bastringuette," said Albert, tossing a five-franc piece on the +girl's tray; "this is for keeping a sharp lookout for Tobie, and we +promise you twice as much more if you send him to the rendezvous as we +have agreed."</p> + +<p>"All right, I'll try to earn it. Adieu, my little loves!"</p> + +<p>Bastringuette walked away; and the young men separated, promising to +meet in front of Tortoni's at the same hour the next day.</p> + +<p>Albert did not fail to be at the rendezvous at the appointed time, and +found Mouillot there.</p> + +<p>"Célestin and Balivan will be here directly," said the latter; "there's +nothing new; Bastringuette hasn't left any word at the café. Have you +had any better luck?"</p> + +<p>"No, I haven't succeeded in discovering the slightest trace of the +quarry."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps we shall be more fortunate to-morrow."</p> + +<p>The next day brought no different result. On the fourth day, Balivan +came running into Tortoni's just after his friends.</p> + +<p>"I've seen him," he cried, "on Rue de Bondy, near Porte Saint-Martin. I +recognized him perfectly, and I<a name="vol_3_page_256" id="vol_3_page_256"></a> am certain he saw me, too, for he +turned purple and looked the other way."</p> + +<p>"Well! you ran after him——"</p> + +<p>"What did he say to you?"</p> + +<p>"Did you take him to Varinet's?"</p> + +<p>"Has he redeemed his olive?"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! my friends, I don't know how it happened; but I noticed at +that moment that my cigar was out, and I stepped into a tobacco shop +close by to get a light; it took only a minute, but when I returned to +the street I looked in every direction—all in vain; I couldn't find +Tobie again!"</p> + +<p>"The devil take you!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! that's just like Balivan! He catches sight of the man we've been +hunting for four days, and, instead of grabbing him, he goes into a shop +to light his cigar!"</p> + +<p>"You ought to take yourself for your model! you'll never find such +another."</p> + +<p>"Faith! messieurs, I think perhaps you'd have done the same, if you had +been in my place. An excellent pure Havana cigar! A fellow can't afford +to let it get cold; it's like coffee, it must be taken hot. However, +we're sure now that Tobie's in Paris, that's something."</p> + +<p>"Why, who ever doubted it? But you won't be the one to make him pay +Varinet."</p> + +<p>The young men separated, a little discouraged. Two days later, Albert +had made no further progress, and he knew that Madame Baldimer might +return from the country at any moment. Being determined, however, to +purchase the shawl she had praised so extravagantly, before she should +return, Albert decided to call upon Madame Plays and brave her +indignation.<a name="vol_3_page_257" id="vol_3_page_257"></a></p> + +<p>Having made up his mind, he bent his steps toward her abode; but he took +care to purchase a lovely bouquet en route; we must always be gallant, +especially with a woman who has had a weakness for us.</p> + +<p>It was two o'clock in the afternoon; that was the time of day when the +superb Herminie held court in her boudoir and gave audience to those +favored mortals who were privileged to enter that mysterious sanctuary.</p> + +<p>Albert, who could fairly say: "Having been brought up in the harem, I +know all its nooks and corners," passed the concierge, with his head in +the air, walked directly to a small private staircase, went up to the +first floor, stopped in front of a door, and knocked almost like a +Freemason.</p> + +<p>In a few seconds the door opened, and a lady's-maid, whose face was +exceedingly ugly, but much more intellectual than her mistress's, +uttered a cry of surprise when she saw Albert.</p> + +<p>"Oh! monsieur," she said, "it's a long while since we've seen you here!"</p> + +<p>"That is true, Lisa; I have been unable to come these last few days. But +tell me, is your mistress visible? May I pay my respects to her?"</p> + +<p>The lady's-maid smiled faintly, as she replied:</p> + +<p>"It is impossible, monsieur. Madame has the vapors; she cannot receive +you."</p> + +<p>"She can't receive me—me?"</p> + +<p>"You, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"But she never used to have the vapors for me."</p> + +<p>"<i>Dame!</i> monsieur, she has them now."</p> + +<p>"Very well; I understand, Lisa; this means that your mistress doesn't +choose to receive me, and so she has given these orders."<a name="vol_3_page_258" id="vol_3_page_258"></a></p> + +<p>The maid dared not admit that that was the truth; but she smiled, and +put her finger to her lips. Albert was too well-bred to disregard such +an order; he too laughed as his eye met the lady's-maid's, and he turned +on his heel, saying with a tragicomic air:</p> + +<p>"I have deserved my fate, and must submit to it."</p> + +<p>But as he was about to leave the courtyard, he paused.</p> + +<p>"Suppose I pay the husband a visit?" he said to himself. "Parbleu! I'll +do it; he's just the boy to reconcile his wife and me, or at least to be +of great service to me in this emergency. Let's see dear Monsieur +Plays."</p> + +<p>Albert took the main staircase this time; he asked a footman if Monsieur +Plays was at his desk, and, receiving an affirmative reply, entered the +merchant's office.</p> + +<h2><a name="XVII" id="XVII"></a>XVII<br /><br /> +<small>MONSIEUR PLAYS</small></h2> + +<p>The superb Herminie's husband was a little man, of middle age, neither +handsome nor ugly, with a very red, babyish face, round eyes, wide open +and prominent, red lips always wreathed in smiles; in a word, what might +be called a happy face; and happy he was to the last degree.</p> + +<p>When he saw young Vermoncey enter his office, Monsieur Plays's face +assumed a curious expression; it was evident that he was embarrassed, +and did not know how he ought to receive his visitor. This reception in +no wise surprised Albert, for he knew that Monsieur Plays adapted his +ideas to his wife's on every subject; one was sure<a name="vol_3_page_259" id="vol_3_page_259"></a> of a cordial welcome +from the husband, so long as he was in madame's good books; but as soon +as she looked coldly on anyone, or had trouble with one of her adorers, +the dear husband dared not be friendly to the person from whom madame +had withdrawn her favor. And as Monsieur Plays was one of those men who +would like to be on good terms with the whole world, his wife's caprices +sometimes caused him very great embarrassment.</p> + +<p>"Madame Plays has been giving me a horrible name to her husband," +thought Albert, noticing the stiff manner in which the merchant greeted +him. And, determined to divert himself with the embarrassment of the +unfortunate husband who turned a cold shoulder to the young men who +ceased to pay court to his wife, he went up to Monsieur Plays, grasped +his hand just as he was about to withdraw it, and shook it violently.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, my dear Monsieur Plays!" he cried. "I am delighted to +find you. I have been meaning for a long time to come to see you. But +time passes so quickly! This is the first moment I have been able to +find for a week."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Plays did not know what reply to make; he bowed, took his pen +out of his mouth and put it back again, glanced timidly about the room, +as if he feared that his wife would appear, and stammered at last:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Albert—certainly—very well—and you—— You are very kind. +But, you see, I am working just now—I am doing something——"</p> + +<p>Albert pretended not to understand the lack of cordiality in that reply; +he threw himself into an easy-chair, and continued:</p> + +<p>"And the pleasures, Monsieur Plays, how do the pleasures, the little +love affairs, come on, eh? Aha! it seems<a name="vol_3_page_260" id="vol_3_page_260"></a> that you're a great lover of +the sex, but you keep it dark! Oh! you have made many conquests, they +say; I've heard of you in the foyer at the Opéra—yes, and in the wings +too."</p> + +<p>The merchant, who was highly flattered to be looked upon as a rake, +smiled and rubbed his hands as he replied:</p> + +<p>"No, really! you have heard of me at the Opéra?—and in the wings? But I +have never been there; Madame Plays wouldn't allow it."</p> + +<p>"I believe you, and she is right. But one may know some of these +theatrical ladies without going there."</p> + +<p>"No, no, I assure you! But, wait; I believe that a lady did ask me one +day to pay a draft that had fifteen days to run, on the plea that she +had to take a little journey; but I believe she told me she was a +<i>marcheuse.</i>"<a name="FNanchor_L_12" id="FNanchor_L_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_L_12" class="fnanchor">[L]</a></p> + +<p>"You see! you acknowledge the corn, rake that you are!"</p> + +<p>"What? Why, it never occurred to me that that lady was on the stage. She +said she was a <i>marcheuse</i>, and I understood that she liked to take long +walks."</p> + +<p>"Oh! you joker! play the innocent, if you will; but you know perfectly +well that that's what they call the supernumeraries at the Opéra."</p> + +<p>"I give you my word that I had no idea of it. What do you say? there are +<i>marcheuses</i> there?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur; and they are a very popular class of lorettes."</p> + +<p>"Then there ought to be <i>trotteuses</i><a name="FNanchor_M_13" id="FNanchor_M_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_M_13" class="fnanchor">[M]</a> there, too."</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! you're a sad rascal, Monsieur Plays! And the best part of it is +that you conceal your game so perfectly."<a name="vol_3_page_261" id="vol_3_page_261"></a></p> + +<p>Monsieur Plays roared with laughter; he was overjoyed to have discounted +a draft for a lady connected with the stage, who had mentioned him in +the wings. But he suddenly remembered that his wife had told him that +she would not receive Albert any more, that he was an exceedingly +ill-bred young man, who had been shockingly rude to her in society; +whereupon the poor husband became sober, repented of having laughed, and +muttered, with a piteous glance at Albert:</p> + +<p>"I don't know why I am laughing, for I have a great deal to do. I have +some accounts to look over, and I am away behind. I have an endless +amount of work on hand."</p> + +<p>Before the young man could reply, a small door leading from the office +to the private apartments was suddenly thrown open, and Madame Plays +appeared.</p> + +<p>The robust Herminie was in morning dress, but there was always something +piquant, something seductive, in her costume as well as in her eyes. A +figured dress, very high in the neck, entirely concealed her charms, but +outlined them with an exactitude which produced a rather more startling +effect than nudity; two globes, possibly a little large, but very well +placed, proudly embellished her ample chest; a tightly laced waist and +very pronounced hips served as a pedestal to that bust; and her somewhat +dishevelled hair, with long corkscrew curls falling over her shoulders, +formed an attractive setting for Madame Plays's face, to which her +excitement and her angry glance, as she entered her husband's office, +gave much animation.</p> + +<p>Herminie manifested no surprise when she saw Albert; it was evident that +she expected to find him there, but she hurled a glance at him with +which she apparently<a name="vol_3_page_262" id="vol_3_page_262"></a> hoped to strike him to the earth. The young man +withstood that awful glance as coolly as if he were provided with a +lightning rod, and answered it with a low bow, while a faint smile +lurked about the corners of his mouth.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Plays was terrified when his wife appeared; he thought that she +had heard him laughing with Albert, and he saw that she was angry; so he +could not decide what to do, and, in his embarrassment, chewed his pen +instead of simply holding it in his mouth.</p> + +<p>"Ah! you have company, monsieur?" said Herminie, biting off her words, +and looking from Albert to her husband; "I am sorry to interrupt your +conversation, messieurs. Doubtless you have some very interesting things +to say to each other. If I had dreamed that Monsieur Vermoncey was here, +be sure that I should not have come."</p> + +<p>"My dear love—we were saying—I don't know what. I didn't expect a +visit from——"</p> + +<p>"I called upon you first, madame," Albert interposed; "but I was told +that you had the vapors, that I could not see you; so I came to ask your +husband about your health, as I was anxious about it."</p> + +<p>"Yes," murmured Monsieur Plays, spitting out a piece of his pen, "yes, +Monsieur Albert came to——"</p> + +<p>"Ah! so you are anxious about my health, monsieur! That is a surprise; I +should never have guessed it. Ha! ha! admirable! You amuse yourself at a +person's expense, you play a trick upon her—a shameful, outrageous jest +of a sort you wouldn't dare try with a grisette—and then, a week +afterward, you come here as if nothing had happened, with a cool, placid +air! Oh! it makes me ill, it sets my nerves on edge; I would like to +smash something!"<a name="vol_3_page_263" id="vol_3_page_263"></a></p> + +<p>All this was emitted with remarkable volubility by the superb Herminie, +as she paced the floor in intense excitement. Her husband drew back when +she talked of smashing something, and faltered:</p> + +<p>"I was busy working, going over my accounts, and——"</p> + +<p>"All right, monsieur, all right! I don't ask you what you were doing. +Well! what are you eating now? what's that you are twisting about +between your teeth? Have you taken to chewing tobacco? that would be the +last straw!"</p> + +<p>"No, my dear love; I was just sucking my pen—for amusement."</p> + +<p>"That's an odd stick of candy," said Albert, laughing.</p> + +<p>Even Herminie could not restrain a smile; but she instantly resumed her +wrathful expression, and turned her back to her husband to speak to +Albert:</p> + +<p>"I shall never forget that abominable letter! I would never have +believed, monsieur, that you would write such things! It was in the +vilest taste!"</p> + +<p>"On my honor, madame, I do not know what you mean; I am not aware of +having written a single word that could offend you."</p> + +<p>"Oh! this is too much! to make such a statement as that! I am terribly +sorry that I destroyed the insolent letter, but I know it by heart."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Plays had returned to his desk, and was mumbling between his +teeth:</p> + +<p>"Five and six are eleven, and eight makes nineteen—and eight makes +nineteen——"</p> + +<p>"And then, it was so idiotic: 'your face is constantly before me, calf's +head <i>en tortue</i>,'—isn't that very refined?—and—'I send you an +intimate friend—perfectly<a name="vol_3_page_264" id="vol_3_page_264"></a> fresh.'—Ah! your friend was fresh, and no +mistake! Such a little fool! and how I treated him!"</p> + +<p>"What you say perplexes me entirely. I cannot understand it. There must +be some mistake—you must have read some other letter."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! it was addressed to me all right!"</p> + +<p>"Nineteen and twenty-four make forty-three; put down three and +carry—and carry——"</p> + +<p>"Be quiet, Monsieur Plays; you are insufferable with your addition! What +do I care what you carry? Hold your tongue!"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Plays subsided, with an air of consternation, nor did Albert +say anything more; but he produced the lovely bouquet, which he had thus +far held behind his back.</p> + +<p>When Herminie saw it, her face softened, and it retained only a slight +pouting expression as she said:</p> + +<p>"Ah! you have a bouquet."</p> + +<p>"Yes, madame; I intended to offer it to you when I called, but I was not +fortunate enough to be admitted."</p> + +<p>"It is very pretty."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Plays walked timidly to Albert's side, and murmured:</p> + +<p>"Your bouquet is charming; I was saying to myself: 'It smells very sweet +here, and it can't be me.'"</p> + +<p>"Will you condescend to accept it, madame?"</p> + +<p>"I ought not to, for I am sure that it wasn't intended for me; but I am +so fond of flowers! Well, give it to me."</p> + +<p>She took the bouquet and held it to her nose.</p> + +<p>"It is very sweet," she said; "it perfumes the whole room. But, no +matter; I detest you, I will never forgive you while I live, I forbid +you to come to my house any more."<a name="vol_3_page_265" id="vol_3_page_265"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh! madame, the idea of bearing malice to such an extent as that! and +for what? for a misunderstanding, a blunder perhaps, but in which you +surely cannot believe that there was any intention to offend you. No, +you will not be so cruel—you will allow me to continue to call upon +you."</p> + +<p>Herminie played with her bouquet without replying, but Monsieur Plays +said smilingly to Albert, in an undertone:</p> + +<p>"She'll allow you to; I am sure that she doesn't bear you any ill will +now."</p> + +<p>"Why do you interfere, Monsieur Plays? I don't know what you mean by +meddling in my affairs! Keep quiet, I tell you again; this doesn't +concern you!"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Plays set about cutting a quill.</p> + +<p>"Besides, I don't like people who have so many whims," continued +Herminie, after a short pause. "If you pass a week without thinking of a +person, why shouldn't you pass months? To what motive do I owe +monsieur's call to-day?"</p> + +<p>"I had a motive, madame," Albert replied, with a smile; "I have heard a +great deal of a cashmere shawl which you wore at Count Dahlborne's +reception; it is a marvel of beauty, it seems, and I have heard it +extolled so highly that I am very desirous to see it. Will you not be +kind enough to show it to me?"</p> + +<p>Herminie thought that Albert resorted to that pretext in order not to +make her husband jealous; for she was far from suspecting that the shawl +was really what had brought her fickle lover back to her. The idea +amused her, and she replied, with a laugh:</p> + +<p>"Oho! so you came to see my cashmere! Well! I won't show it to you; if I +did, I should have to admit<a name="vol_3_page_266" id="vol_3_page_266"></a> you to my boudoir, and I have sworn that +you shall never put your foot there again."</p> + +<p>"But we swear so many things! A pretty woman's oaths are written on +sand, and the slightest breath effaces them."</p> + +<p>"And what are men's oaths written on?"</p> + +<p>"On brass.—Isn't it true, Monsieur Plays, that we men keep to our +oaths?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes; such things have been known. I myself, for instance, swore +that I would stop taking snuff when I married Madame Plays, because she +doesn't like to hear people sneeze: well, I have kept my oath; to be +sure, I still sneeze, but not so often."</p> + +<p>While Monsieur Plays indulged in this reflection, his wife looked +fixedly at Albert, and there was in her eyes an animation, a flame, +which indicated something very different from anger. On his side, the +young man bestowed a very tender glance on her, and said:</p> + +<p>"Come, don't be cross with me any more, but promise to show it to me."</p> + +<p>"No; I should have to admit you to my boudoir."</p> + +<p>"I am so anxious to see it."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! you want to see it, do you?" said Herminie, with a sly smile.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Plays moved about on his chair, saying:</p> + +<p>"Come, my dear love, as it will give him pleasure, do show it to him. +Bless my soul, how good that bouquet smells!"</p> + +<p>Herminie was touched; she smiled at the young man in a very significant +way, and held out her hand to him.</p> + +<p>"Oh! I am too weak," she cried; "you abuse my weakness—ah! Dieu! Well, +give me your hand and escort me to my apartment. But I won't show it to +you, I tell you!"<a name="vol_3_page_267" id="vol_3_page_267"></a></p> + +<p>Albert took the hand that Madame Plays offered him, and, with a bow to +her husband, left the room with her by the little door.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Plays seemed overjoyed, and whispered in Albert's ear as he +passed:</p> + +<p>"I know her; I promise you that she'll show it to you."</p> + +<h2><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII"></a>XVIII<br /><br /> +<small>A SECRET PACT.—THE PÂTÉ DES ITALIENS</small></h2> + +<p>It was only nine o'clock in the morning, and Célestin de Valnoir was +already ringing at Madame Baldimer's door. Rosa, her maid, answered the +bell, and smiled at the young man as if she were expecting him.</p> + +<p>"This is a very early hour for me to call on your mistress," said +Célestin, assuming a presumptuous, self-sufficient air; "but I received +a note from Madame Baldimer last evening, in which she informed me of +her return to Paris and requested me to call this morning before nine; +and I am always prompt at a rendezvous with a lovely woman."</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur; madame expects you, for she told me to admit you as soon +as you came."</p> + +<p>"Madame Baldimer is still in bed, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur; madame got up early, because she expected you."</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! that was no reason! I could have talked with her just as well +in bed—indeed, I should have preferred that. But, no matter, take me to +her."<a name="vol_3_page_268" id="vol_3_page_268"></a></p> + +<p>The maid led Célestin through several rooms, and ushered him into her +mistress's presence. Madame Baldimer was seated in a reclining chair, +dressed in a velvet robe de chambre; her hair was dressed very simply +and kept in place on top of her head by a sort of net; plainly, she was +not yet dressed for the day, and was not at all anxious to make a +favorable impression. None the less, she was extremely pretty in that +négligé; but women are never more seductive than when we see them +unadorned except by their natural charms; it very rarely happens, +however, that they are willing to allow themselves to be seen in that +condition.</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer greeted Célestin with a faint smile, and said, pointing +to a chair near her own:</p> + +<p>"You are on time; that is well done of you—I like that. Promptness is +so rare in this world. Pray be seated."</p> + +<p>"You should be certain, madame, of the zeal with which I always comply +with your wishes; you are aware of my devotion to you; you know that +there is nothing I would not do to please you. Love even leads me to +betray friendship."</p> + +<p>"Friendship!" echoed Madame Baldimer, and a sarcastic smile played about +her lips; "oh, no! you are not betraying that, I assure you. Have you +ever been Albert's friend?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure, madame; we are very intimate."</p> + +<p>"You men, when you have met once or twice at parties or dinners, when +your dispositions have seemed congenial, when you have laughed at a good +story told by someone you hardly know, instantly shake hands, adopt the +familiar form of address, and suddenly become as intimate as if you had +been thrown together for years; and you<a name="vol_3_page_269" id="vol_3_page_269"></a> imagine that you have gained a +friend! But friendships formed so hastily are as hastily broken. They +are not proof against any passion: vanity, self-esteem, selfish +interests, love, soon put an end to the noble sentiments of which you +have made so great a parade, and you are often amazed to find that all +the annoyances, all the disappointments, all the vexations, you suffer +are the work of those whom you call your friends. It's not the same with +women, monsieur; they are not so free with their friendship as you are, +but when they do give it, when they become attached to another person of +their own sex, it is almost always for life."</p> + +<p>"But it must be someone of their own sex!" laughed Célestin. "You admit +that, yourself."</p> + +<p>"I believe, monsieur, that there are women who are capable of loving a +long time—yes, forever, the man who has shown himself worthy of their +love. But as they generally have to do with ungrateful wretches who make +a sport of seducing them, only to betray and abandon them, you must +agree that they would be very foolish not to punish men sometimes for +the wrong they so often do them."</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! fair lady, I will agree to anything you please. I will say +that men are villains, monsters, whatever you choose, provided only that +you allow me to love you, and that you award me the prize due my +devotion and my passion."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Célestin took possession of a hand with which the pretty widow +was toying with the folds of her gown, and attempted to put it to his +lips; but Madame Baldimer snatched it away, and said sharply:</p> + +<p>"Stop that, monsieur, I beg; we have not yet reached the point at which +I owe you any recompense; and I am not the woman to pay in advance."<a name="vol_3_page_270" id="vol_3_page_270"></a></p> + +<p>"But it seems to me that I have done all that we agreed upon. When I +first met you in society some months ago, I experienced, as many other +men did, the power of your charms; when I spoke to you of my love, you +said—and these are your very words, I have not forgotten them: 'You are +very intimate with young Albert Vermoncey, are you not? Well, keep me +informed of everything that young man does, promise to do everything for +me that I ask you to do, and I will reward your devotion.'—Isn't that +what you said?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly; not a word changed. When I first met you, monsieur, young +Albert was already paying court to me; you very quickly joined the +ranks, which was quite natural; Albert was your friend, so you naturally +tried to supplant him. That sort of thing is always done among friends."</p> + +<p>"But, madame——"</p> + +<p>"Isn't that true, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"When love speaks louder than friendship——"</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! delicious! But, do you know, it was not worth while to +interrupt me to say that. I formed my judgment of you on the spot, and I +said to myself: 'I should like to amuse myself at the expense of young +Vermoncey; I propose that he shall be my victim, that he shall learn +that all women are not overjoyed to yield to him. Here's a gentleman who +will second my projects to perfection; he is an intimate friend of +Albert, and he is paying court to me because he sees that his friend is +very much in love with me; so that I may be certain that he will ask +nothing better than to assist me in setting snares for the man I propose +to make a fool of.'—Thereupon I made my propositions to you, and you +accepted them. And now, monsieur, it doesn't seem to me that you have +any reason to reproach me."<a name="vol_3_page_271" id="vol_3_page_271"></a></p> + +<p>Célestin, who had listened to Madame Baldimer, biting his lips from time +to time with a dissatisfied air, leaned back in his chair and replied:</p> + +<p>"But when is there to be an end of it all, madame? When will you cease +to torment poor Albert—and when will you reward my love?"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! monsieur, you are very inquisitive, in a very great hurry. I +cannot tell you yet."</p> + +<p>"You see, I sometimes say to myself—— Excuse my frankness, madame."</p> + +<p>"Oh! speak freely; frankness from you will astonish but not offend me."</p> + +<p>"I say to myself: 'Is it not possible that I myself am Madame Baldimer's +dupe, while fancying that I am helping her to make a fool of Albert? She +wants to know everything that my rival does; if he acts as if he had +forgotten her, I give her that information, and she soon appears before +him, he finds her wherever he goes, and he does not hold out long +against the glances she fastens upon him. It seems to me that a woman +who was in love with Albert would act in that very way, and it would be +quite interesting if Madame Baldimer were amusing herself at my expense, +while I am thinking that it is Albert she wants to make a fool of!'"</p> + +<p>"Ah! you have thought that, have you, monsieur? Upon my word, that would +be most original; and, to speak frankly, you deserve to be treated in +that way."</p> + +<p>"How so, madame?"</p> + +<p>"But don't be alarmed, it is not so at all. I am not in love with +Monsieur Albert. I, love him! on the contrary, I hate him!"</p> + +<p>As she uttered these last words, Madame Baldimer's face glowed, and her +eyes seemed to flash fire.<a name="vol_3_page_272" id="vol_3_page_272"></a></p> + +<p>"You hate him!" repeated Célestin, in a doubting tone. "Hm! that is +rather strange; a woman doesn't ordinarily hate a man who has never been +her lover. I should like it better if Albert were indifferent to you. +Indifference is further from love than hatred is."</p> + +<p>"You may be perfectly sure, monsieur, that that young man's alleged +passion for me will never be satisfied. But it is my pleasure that it +shall not die out—on the contrary, that it shall become more and more +ardent. Whether it is coquetry, hatred, caprice, or some other +sentiment, that prompts my action—that is my secret, monsieur, and I do +not choose to tell you anything more. Now, if you do not care to assist +my designs any further, go, monsieur; it is useless for you to stay here +any longer."</p> + +<p>The lovely widow rose as she spoke, but Célestin seized her arm and +forced her to resume her seat.</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! madame, how quick you are! how prompt in forming your +resolutions! Be calm, I implore you! there is no rupture in our +relations; I am your slave, as always. Speak! command! I am at your +service. Too happy to wear your chains, as I hope that some day my love +will be crowned."</p> + +<p>"Very good," rejoined Madame Baldimer, with a smile; "and now, answer +me. I have been away ten days; what has Albert done during that time?"</p> + +<p>"Am I to conceal nothing?"</p> + +<p>"That was our agreement, as you know."</p> + +<p>"He has seen Madame Plays again."</p> + +<p>"Madame Plays—— Ah! very good; I can guess why."</p> + +<p>"That woman has been his mistress; and when a man returns to a former +mistress, it is very easy to guess why."<a name="vol_3_page_273" id="vol_3_page_273"></a></p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer bestowed a glance on Célestin which signified: "You are +no better than a fool!" but she contented herself with that pantomime, +and said simply:</p> + +<p>"What else?"</p> + +<p>"He has called here several times to find out whether you had returned +from the country."</p> + +<p>"I know that; my concierge told me."</p> + +<p>"Your absence has seemed very long to him—especially as you didn't tell +him where you were going."</p> + +<p>"Ah! he would have liked to know—and so would you, wouldn't you? But go +on."</p> + +<p>"Why, that's all."</p> + +<p>"What! no new intrigues, no escapades, no card parties?"</p> + +<p>"No, nothing—for the last few days we have been so virtuous!"</p> + +<p>"No husbands deceived, no rivals to dread?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing of the sort. There was a wager on the subject of a very pretty +grisette, who is courted by a messenger; but Albert refused to go into +it. Indeed, the thing isn't so easy as I thought at first. This very +morning, I believed I had won my bet; my plans were carefully laid—the +girl ought to have stepped into a very clever trap that I had laid for +her. But, not at all; she avoided it! Those little grisettes sometimes +have the presumption to insist on being virtuous. We should be very much +to be pitied, if we hadn't the ladies of fashionable society to fall +back on."</p> + +<p>"Ah! that's an unkind fling of yours; but beware; there are some great +flirts who may do as the grisettes do; one must not be sure of anything +in this world. Let us return to what you were saying: a very pretty +grisette, and a messenger for your rival. Do you know,<a name="vol_3_page_274" id="vol_3_page_274"></a> that would be +very interesting! Messengers are not long-suffering, and they don't +stand by and allow their loves to be taken from them with the +complaisance and patience of the majority of our husbands in fashionable +society. You really must involve Albert in this intrigue. He must fall +in love with this grisette. If she is pretty, I see no great difficulty +about it; and you are so clever, Monsieur Célestin, surely you can bring +it about. Oh! it would be so amusing!"</p> + +<p>Célestin was utterly unable to understand Madame Baldimer's purpose in +urging him to do his utmost to make Albert fall in love with a pretty +grisette.</p> + +<p>"Well, monsieur, don't you hear me?" cried the fair American, irritated +by the young man's silence.</p> + +<p>"Yes, madame; yes, I hear you perfectly. But I confess that I don't +understand you! and my brain is in a whirl when I try to divine your +object. You do all that you can to turn Albert's head. If he seems to be +a little less enamored of you, you redouble your fascinations and +coquetries to bring him to your feet; and, lo! you insist now that your +adorer shall fall in love with a pretty grisette, and scold me because +my friend is not involved in a lot of other intrigues! I say again, all +this is infernally hard to understand."</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer frowned, as she replied:</p> + +<p>"But it isn't necessary that you should understand me, monsieur; it is +enough, it seems to me, that it is my wish."</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry, madame, but you should not do so much to inflame +Albert's passion for yourself. He, who used to take fire at the mere +sight of a woman, is indifferent now to the loveliest; and it is your +fault."</p> + +<p>"Really! Do you think that he loves me to that point?"<a name="vol_3_page_275" id="vol_3_page_275"></a></p> + +<p>"I am afraid so, for his sake."</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer reflected a few moments, then rose, and said, with a +gracious smile:</p> + +<p>"Adieu, Monsieur de Valnoir! our interview has been very long, and I +have nothing further to ask you."</p> + +<p>"Shall I see you soon?"</p> + +<p>"I think so; however, I will write, as before, when I have anything to +ask you. I do not need to remind you that Albert must not know that you +have seen me."</p> + +<p>Célestin smiled and bowed, and stepped forward to take the fair +American's hand; but she had already vanished.</p> + +<p>"A strange woman!" muttered Célestin, looking around the room in +surprise. "Gad! I have known a great many of them, but never one whose +heart was so difficult to decipher as hers. Never mind; she is very +beautiful, very refined, very fashionable, and it will be delicious to +whisk her away from my dear friend Albert."</p> + +<p>Célestin left the lovely widow's abode, and repaired to the boulevard, +where he met Mouillot, who ran up to him, crying:</p> + +<p>"Victory! he is ours! we have him, or at least we shall have him this +evening!"</p> + +<p>"Whom are you talking about?"</p> + +<p>"Parbleu! little Tobie, the man of the fetich."</p> + +<p>"The deuce! who found him?"</p> + +<p>"Bastringuette, apparently; for she just left a message with a waiter at +Tortoni's, who repeated it to me not a minute ago, that the young man we +want will be at the Pâté des Italiens this evening."</p> + +<p>"Ah! that is delicious; do the others know it?"</p> + +<p>"No, as I have just learned of it. But I will undertake to tell Balivan, +and you must let Albert know. Let us<a name="vol_3_page_276" id="vol_3_page_276"></a> all meet here to-night at eight. +Tobie is to be on Place des Italiens at nine, and we must meet earlier +than that."</p> + +<p>"Very good; we will be there."</p> + +<p>Bastringuette had, in fact, met Tobie the night before, quite late, on +an unfrequented street; it was dark, and Monsieur Pigeonnier was walking +very fast. But the flower girl had eyes which rivalled an eagle's, and +she had easily recognized the man she had been asked to find.</p> + +<p>Since the game of bouillotte in Balivan's studio, little Tobie, who had +gone away with four hundred and fifty francs in his pocket, had not been +fortunate in his speculations; he had flattered himself that he would be +able to do a fine stroke of business with that money, to make some +advantageous purchase, and thereby to redeem his olive before long. But, +instead of that, a creditor, who had succeeded in finding him at home by +dint of passing the night at his door, had compelled him, by the use of +some exceedingly brutal arguments, to pay a long overdue note for three +hundred and eighty francs.</p> + +<p>So that Tobie was not in a position to redeem his fetich, and that is +why he never appeared on the boulevards, why he shunned all the places +where he was likely to meet any of the witnesses of his transaction with +Varinet, and fled as soon as he caught sight of an acquaintance; for he +would have been forced to confess that he had not the wherewithal to +redeem his olive, which would have humiliated him beyond measure. If he +could gain time, he hoped to be able to move his aunt, Madame Abraham, +or at least to obtain an interest in some profitable transaction in +which his commission would be large enough to enable him to settle with +Varinet. Almost always, in unpleasant emergencies, we imagine that we +are saved, as soon as we succeed in gaining time; we are<a name="vol_3_page_277" id="vol_3_page_277"></a> happy when we +have much of it to spend, and we do not reflect that time is life, the +only really valuable thing in this world; that one may regain fortune, +honors, the favors of a fair lady! but that a day lost can never be +recovered.</p> + +<p>Hearing somebody running behind him in the street, little Tobie had a +fright; but he recovered his courage when he heard a woman's voice +calling:</p> + +<p>"Why don't you stop, monsieur, when I say I want to speak to you? +<i>fichtre!</i> if you make women run like this, they must have lots of fun +with you!"</p> + +<p>Tobie stopped, scrutinized Bastringuette, and demanded:</p> + +<p>"What do you want of me?"</p> + +<p>"I don't want anything, my little darling; you're too dainty for me. I +don't like men with pink cheeks."</p> + +<p>"Ah! I think I recognize you now; you're the girl who sells violets."</p> + +<p>"When there is any, my little ducky."</p> + +<p>"If you've been running after me to offer me flowers, you might have +saved yourself the trouble."</p> + +<p>"No, it isn't for that; I have a message for you."</p> + +<p>"Who gave it to you?"</p> + +<p>"A lady, and a very pretty lady too."</p> + +<p>"A lady—what's her name?"</p> + +<p>"She didn't tell me; and you don't suppose I asked her, do you? but she +described you so that I couldn't make any mistake. She has something to +say to you, and she'll be at the Pâté on Place des Italiens to-morrow +night at nine o'clock."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow night! at the Pâté!"</p> + +<p>Tobie reflected for some time; he tried to think who the lady could be +who wished to see him; and at last he thought of Madame Plays, who had +left him so abruptly<a name="vol_3_page_278" id="vol_3_page_278"></a> on the Champs-Élysées; perhaps she knew the whole +story of Albert's conduct now, and wished to revenge herself with him +for her lover's faithlessness, and to compensate him for the outburst of +temper to which she had given way when she left him.</p> + +<p>"If Albert did write anything offensive in that letter," he thought, +"she has probably learned that I had nothing to do with it; she is sorry +that she treated me so badly, and means to treat me better now. I am +less surprised, because, when I was making love to her, she seemed to be +deeply touched; everything was going along finely, and, if it hadn't +occurred to her to read that infernal letter, I should certainly have +triumphed.—What sort of looking woman was it who gave you the message?" +he asked Bastringuette.</p> + +<p>"Oh! a very fine-looking woman."</p> + +<p>"A little large, wasn't she?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur, she's plump; but it's becoming to her."</p> + +<p>"Light chestnut hair?"</p> + +<p>"Very light—almost a blonde."</p> + +<p>"That's it. A voice something like a man's?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! a splendid voice; when she speaks, you'd think it was a hand organ. +She ought to sing well, she had."</p> + +<p>"There's no doubt about it—it was she!"</p> + +<p>"Do you know who she is?"</p> + +<p>"I think so; but I know so many of 'em, you see!"</p> + +<p>"But you'll keep the appointment, won't you, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! to be sure!"</p> + +<p>"So much the better; for it seems as if the lady was broiling to see +you.—'If I'd known his address,' she says, 'I'd have written to him; +but I don't know where he lives.'"<a name="vol_3_page_279" id="vol_3_page_279"></a></p> + +<p>"That's true, she doesn't know it; and there are very few people who +could tell her; I don't talk much about my address."</p> + +<p>"Good-night, monsieur! my errand's done, and I'm going home to bed. +Don't forget your appointment at the Pâté."</p> + +<p>"Never fear."</p> + +<p>Bastringuette turned on her heel, and Tobie did the same, saying to +himself:</p> + +<p>"It seems that she's paid. I'm not sorry, I like that way better;" and +he went his way, building castles in Spain touching his liaison with the +susceptible Plays.</p> + +<p>Célestin called on Albert at midday, and found him gazing at a +magnificent cashmere shawl that was spread out on a divan.</p> + +<p>"What the devil are you doing?" inquired Monsieur de Valnoir.</p> + +<p>"I am admiring this shawl, as you see; isn't it superb?"</p> + +<p>"It is, indeed; but it seems as if I had seen it on somebody."</p> + +<p>"You have seen its mate on Madame Plays."</p> + +<p>"Ah! that's it. And what are you doing with this one? Are you in the way +of giving your mistresses cashmere shawls?"</p> + +<p>"Why not! If you should see this shawl on the fair American's shoulders, +do you think that she would still laugh at my love?"</p> + +<p>Célestin pressed his lips together, then replied:</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! I should be compelled to believe, on the contrary, that you are +a fortunate mortal. But it must have been very expensive!"</p> + +<p>"Five thousand francs!"<a name="vol_3_page_280" id="vol_3_page_280"></a></p> + +<p>"The deuce! it's a present worthy of a prince; but I don't believe she +will accept it."</p> + +<p>"And I am sure that she will."</p> + +<p>"Has Madame Baldimer returned from the country?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, last night; and look, do you see this little note?"</p> + +<p>"By the perfume alone, I divine that it's from a woman."</p> + +<p>"I have just received it; it's from the fair widow, and she expects me +at ten this evening."</p> + +<p>"At ten o'clock; she makes appointments for rather a late hour."</p> + +<p>"So much the better; I will try to prolong the interview, and not leave +her till to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>Célestin turned away to hide a grimace which he could not control; then +he replied, in a very vivacious tone:</p> + +<p>"Pending your love rendezvous, will you meet us this evening, a little +before nine? We propose to nab Seigneur Pigeonnier, who thinks that a +lady is to meet him on Place des Italiens."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I will be there, of course. Poor Tobie! we must have a little fun +at his expense; but afterward, if he can't pay, I'll lend him five +hundred francs, so that he can settle with Monsieur Varinet."</p> + +<p>"The devil! You are a good fellow. Are you in funds?"</p> + +<p>"My father is so kind to me! he gives me money without being asked."</p> + +<p>"Parbleu! he has nobody left but you; it's right that he should satisfy +all your desires."</p> + +<p>"But I have been spending too much money for some time past; I mean to +reform."<a name="vol_3_page_281" id="vol_3_page_281"></a></p> + +<p>"Is that why you pay five thousand francs for a shawl?"</p> + +<p>"This will be my last folly."</p> + +<p>"And you propose to lend Tobie five hundred francs?"</p> + +<p>"I am so happy! I would like to be able to oblige all my friends."</p> + +<p>"If I had suspected that," thought Célestin, "I would have invented a +story to make him anxious to oblige me too.—Shall we dine together +to-day?" he said aloud.</p> + +<p>"It is impossible. I promised my father to dine with him. I have done it +so seldom lately that he looks on it as a great favor, and he's too kind +to me for me not to try to please him."</p> + +<p>"You are becoming a model of filial respect!"</p> + +<p>"Célestin," exclaimed Albert, in a very sharp tone, "I allow you to joke +about whatever you choose, except my affection for my father; that is a +sentiment which must be respected. It seems to me that it would be very +unfortunate if there were nothing left in the world to respect."</p> + +<p>"Oh! mon Dieu! don't lose your temper! I had no such purpose as you +imagine. Until this evening! we shall expect you at the usual place."</p> + +<p>It was not quite nine o'clock, but it had been dark for some time when +the young men left Tortoni's café and bent their steps toward Place des +Italiens. They had just started, when Mouillot said:</p> + +<p>"One moment, messieurs! we have forgotten something. Here, take this."</p> + +<p>And he gave each of his friends an olive.</p> + +<p>"An olive!"</p> + +<p>"What's this for?"</p> + +<p>"Why, can't you guess? We are going to watch for Tobie, one at each +corner of the square; and as soon as<a name="vol_3_page_282" id="vol_3_page_282"></a> we see him, we will all descend on +him, each presenting our olive and demanding five hundred francs."</p> + +<p>"Very good! splendid!"</p> + +<p>"Poor Tobie! This experience will be enough to disgust him with olives, +and I'll bet that he won't stuff his pockets with them again when he +dines out."</p> + +<p>They soon reached Place des Italiens, where they separated, each going +to one corner. They agreed that, when Tobie appeared, they would wait +until he reached the middle of the square, and then advance upon him at +the same time, so that the four olives, accompanied by as many demands +for five hundred francs, might be presented simultaneously.</p> + +<p>Five minutes passed. Tobie did not appear. Five more minutes passed. The +young men coughed loudly from time to time, as if to assure one another +that they were still there. To while away the time, Albert thought of +Madame Baldimer, whom he was to call upon very soon. He enjoyed in +anticipation the pleasure he was about to afford her by presenting her +with that shawl, which she coveted, and he hoped that his gallantry +would be lovingly rewarded.</p> + +<p>Célestin also thought about his relations with the lovely widow, saying +to himself from time to time:</p> + +<p>"Tobie will not come! he probably suspected something, or was afraid. We +shall lose our olives."</p> + +<p>Mouillot stamped impatiently, muttering:</p> + +<p>"This is getting to be an infernal bore. I believe it's going to rain, +too. The sell is on us, after all! Sacrebleu! messieurs! I say there! do +you like this? For my part, I've had about enough."</p> + +<p>Balivan was engrossed by the portrait of a woman which he was soon to +begin, and he was wondering<a name="vol_3_page_283" id="vol_3_page_283"></a> whether he would paint it against a dark or +a light background, in a salon or in a garden.</p> + +<p>Several more minutes passed. A very fine rain began to fall. Albert, +Célestin, and Mouillot were about to desert their posts, when shouts of: +"Murder! police! help!" arose in the middle of the square.</p> + +<p>The three young men ran toward the place from which the cries came, and +found Balivan holding a short man by the arm.</p> + +<p>"It's no use for you to yell," he was saying; "you owe me five hundred +francs for this olive!"</p> + +<p>"What in the devil are you doing, you fool?" cried Mouillot; "let the +gentleman alone, will you! It isn't Tobie!"</p> + +<p>The man whom Balivan had seized was a respectable bourgeois, who was +loitering about in front of the Opéra-Comique, intending to buy a check +and see the last play.</p> + +<p>Balivan confounded himself in apologies. But the bourgeois, who had had +a horrible fright, continued to shout. The soldiers who were on guard at +the theatre came up, with several policemen, and a crowd soon assembled. +The young men were surrounded, and the man whom Balivan had attacked +pointed them out to the soldiers, saying in a voice rendered almost +inaudible by terror:</p> + +<p>"Arrest those four men. They're all thieves; they tried to rob me of +five hundred francs, and I had only forty sous about me! This one +threatened me; he tried to murder me with an olive. Arrest all four."</p> + +<p>The young men tried to explain to the soldiers that it was all the +result of a jest. But the officers took them away, saying:</p> + +<p>"You may explain at the station."<a name="vol_3_page_284" id="vol_3_page_284"></a></p> + +<p>"That miserable Tobie!" muttered Mouillot; "a nice mess he's got us into +with his olives!"</p> + +<p>"And my appointment!" thought Albert. "God grant they don't keep us +long!"</p> + +<p>"It is all Balivan's fault," said Célestin. "With his absent-mindedness, +he was perfectly certain to make some blunder."</p> + +<p>As for the young artist, he stalked along in the middle of the crowd, +thinking:</p> + +<p>"Yes, I will paint her with a country scene for a background."</p> + +<h2><a name="XIX" id="XIX"></a>XIX<br /><br /> +<small>THE QUARREL AND THE RECONCILIATION</small></h2> + +<p>On the day following that on which Elina had asked the messengers about +Paul, he returned to his place with his <i>crochets</i>, wearing his jacket +and cap; but his face was noticeably paler, his features more drawn, +than before his prolonged absence.</p> + +<p>The young messenger seated himself in his usual place, nodding to +Sans-Cravate and Jean Ficelle, who were there before him. The former +abruptly turned his head away when he saw Paul, and clenched his fists +with an angry gesture; but Jean Ficelle, on the contrary, assumed his +playful expression and walked to Paul's side.</p> + +<p>"Hallo! hallo! here's the prodigal son back again! Yes, it's him, sure +enough. Is it possible, Paul, that you've come back to sit alongside of +us on a street corner? are you going to be a messenger?"<a name="vol_3_page_285" id="vol_3_page_285"></a></p> + +<p>"I have never ceased to be one," replied Paul, looking earnestly at the +house in which Elina worked.</p> + +<p>"That's a good one! How about the time we met you dressed like a swell? +I don't think you was doing errands much just then! You was on a spree, +you know, and it seems to have lasted a long while! Ten days of it! Gad! +that's a whole carnival, sure enough!"</p> + +<p>"You are mistaken; I haven't been on a spree; you know perfectly well +that it's not my custom."</p> + +<p>"Not with us, that's true; but you play the nobleman with your +mistresses, it seems. Oh! I can understand that when a man's been doing +the handsome thing by his girl for ten days, he don't feel inclined to +treat his friends to a glass. And then, you have so many girls at once! +Ha! ha! you're a Don Jean, as they say in fashionable society. But you +must take care that you don't get robbed yourself. Bless me! those +things happen to everybody."</p> + +<p>Paul shrugged his shoulders, and made no further reply to Jean Ficelle; +but he went to Sans-Cravate, whose back was still turned to him, and put +his hand on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Are you still angry with me?" he said. "Well, Sans-Cravate, you are all +wrong; yes, you are wrong, for I have done nothing to make you angry. I +love you still, for all your roughness and your hot temper, because I +know that you have a good heart. I never gave you bad advice, and it +seems to me that I deserve your confidence; but you prefer to listen to +those who take you to the wine shop, with such people as that +Laboussole."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate turned his head little by little; at first, he was +determined to pick a quarrel with Paul; but, as he listened to him, he +felt that his anger subsided, in spite<a name="vol_3_page_286" id="vol_3_page_286"></a> of himself; and when he looked +at him, when he saw his gentle, honest eyes looking into his, he could +not control his emotion, his genuine affection for his young comrade +stirred anew in the depths of his heart.</p> + +<p>Paul divined what was taking place in Sans-Cravate's heart, and he held +out his hand, saying:</p> + +<p>"Oh! I know well enough that you are not a bad fellow! You cannot +believe that I am Bastringuette's lover, since you know that I am in +love with the young dressmaker who works in the house +opposite—Mademoiselle Elina. And even if I weren't, as if I could ever +give a thought to my friend's mistress! Somebody has spoken ill of me to +you, and you listened because you had drunk a little too much; but now +that you are cool, you must see that that was all nonsense. Come, give +me your hand, and let us forget the past!"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate put out his hand to grasp Paul's, but drew it back again, +crying:</p> + +<p>"Yes, <i>sacrédié!</i> it makes me unhappy to be at odds with you. I liked +you, and I feel that I'd be glad to like you still. But it ain't a +question of what anybody's told me about you, but of what I've seen with +my own eyes. You say that you have nothing to do with Bastringuette, +that you don't go with her; prove it, and I'm your friend. It ain't that +I still care about Bastringuette, or want to make up with her; oh! +there's no danger of that! but I just want to be sure that my friend +hasn't gone back on me—played a trick on me, as they say; that's all."</p> + +<p>"What do you want me to do? How can I prove it, if my word isn't +enough?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! it's easy enough: that day we met you dressed like a gentleman, on +the corner of Rue Barbette, you came out of a house on Vieille Rue du +Temple. Bastringuette<a name="vol_3_page_287" id="vol_3_page_287"></a> came out of the same house a few minutes after +you; I saw her—do you hear! You say that you wasn't with her; that may +be, although it looks bad! To clear the thing up, just you tell me who +you'd been to see—where you'd been in that house. It will be easy for +me to go and find out whether you're telling the truth; it won't take me +long to walk there. Come, tell me; and if there hasn't been any fooling +with my false wench, why, then I'll come back and open my arms to you; +I'll beg your pardon, and hug you till I stifle you!"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate's eyes were wet; it was clear that his most earnest desire +was to be able to call Paul his friend once more, and he waited +anxiously for his reply. But Paul hung his head, his face became +serious, and he dropped the hand he was holding out to his comrade.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry that I cannot satisfy you," he said; "but I cannot tell you +what you ask. I tell you again that it was not Bastringuette whom I went +to see in that house; if she did go there, it was probably a mere +coincidence; but it is certain that she was no more looking for me than +I was looking for her."</p> + +<p>Jean Ficelle, who had softly drawn near and waited with manifest +curiosity for Paul's reply, began to whistle the air of: <i>Go and see if +they're coming, Jean, go and see if they're coming.</i></p> + +<p>"What's that!" rejoined Sans-Cravate, with an angry gesture; "you can't +tell me who you went to see—who it is you know in that house! It seems +to me there's no difficulty in doing that—and when a man ain't doing +something crooked, he don't make such a mystery about it."</p> + +<p>"Probably I have reasons for acting as I do."</p> + +<p>"And you won't tell me your reasons?"</p> + +<p>"It is impossible!"<a name="vol_3_page_288" id="vol_3_page_288"></a></p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate stamped the ground angrily, and uttered an energetic oath.</p> + +<p>"All right, then; all's over between us; I don't know you any more; you +are no mate of mine; I forbid you to speak to me—do you hear? I forbid +you; and if you should ever come within range of my eyes, with +Bastringuette—not that I care a hang about her! I despise her! I hate +her!—but, never mind; if I should see you with her, look out! I shan't +always be patient, and you'd be likely to pass a bad quarter of an +hour."</p> + +<p>Paul made no reply, but took his <i>crochets</i> and carried them some fifty +yards away, toward the house where Elina worked; and there he took his +stand.</p> + +<p>Jean Ficelle went up to Sans-Cravate, who pretended to look in the +direction of the boulevard, and said:</p> + +<p>"You did well to give that sneak his walking ticket! What a fool he +looked when you asked him who he went to see; he couldn't answer. +<i>Pardi!</i> I guess not; he'd have to own up that he'd done wrong. I'll +give you a comparison: it's just the same as if you saw me opening your +trunk, and you says: 'What are you looking in there for?' and I says: 'I +can't tell you what I'm looking for;' and you says: 'Tell me!' and +I——"</p> + +<p>"All right! enough of that! you're never done with your comparisons, and +they don't amuse me."</p> + +<p>"That's all right! Look here, I'm going to suggest something better. The +sight of your rival has put you in a bad humor—that's natural; if I had +someone in front of me as had turned my girl away from me, I wouldn't be +satisfied till I'd given him a good licking; that would be rather hard, +to be sure, as I don't happen to have any girl just now. As I was +saying, you're out of sorts, but you've got some chink. That fat woman +who's owed<a name="vol_3_page_289" id="vol_3_page_289"></a> you a long while for moving her, and came and paid you this +morning—you didn't expect that, so it's just the same as money found; +and when you find money, you must spend it right away, or it'll bring +you bad luck! So, let's not work to-day; let's go and take something. I +know all the good places, you know; we'll just fold up our <i>crochets</i> +and enjoy our youth. How does that strike you?"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Not work to-day," he muttered, "in the middle of the week, when +everybody's at work——"</p> + +<p>"<i>Ouiche!</i> everybody—who feels like it! I'll show you a lot of good +fellows to-day, who know how to enjoy themselves! Besides, can't a man +take a good dinner once in a while, and loaf a bit if he feels like it? +There's days when you can't help it. Anyway, it's getting late."</p> + +<p>"Late! it's only half-past nine."</p> + +<p>"Well, you see there's no business doing; we won't get anything to do +to-day; it's the dead season; no one's doing anything."</p> + +<p>"Drinking ain't the way to save money to send a marriage portion to my +sister Liline."</p> + +<p>"You've told me that your sister was pretty; and when a girl's pretty, +she don't need a marriage portion; and then, ain't there a lady at +Clermont who takes an interest in her, and has taken her into her family +and given her an education?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but——"</p> + +<p>"Well, she'll find a husband for your sister, that's plain enough; so +you don't need to worry about her."</p> + +<p>"Poor Liline! I'm very fond of her; she's so pretty and gentle—as +gentle as I am rough! I mean to go down into the country next spring, +and see my sister and<a name="vol_3_page_290" id="vol_3_page_290"></a> my father; and perhaps I'll stay with them, for I +have nothing at all to keep me in Paris now."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate sighed profoundly as he spoke, and his eyes scanned the +boulevards as if he were looking for someone.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's all right; you can go home next spring, and I'll show you +out of the city; if you want, I'll wait for you at the barrier till you +come back; but at the present time, if you don't take a little pleasure, +you'll be as yellow and dry as parchment; you've changed already, you're +losing your fine color."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I don't care about that now! there's nobody I want to please."</p> + +<p>"Nobody knows! nobody knows! you mustn't get careless. A man ought to be +handsome all the time, as he's made to seduce; that's all I know. A +comparison: it's like a horse that's never curry-combed; his coat loses +all its gloss."</p> + +<p>"It's sure enough that there's twelve francs here," said Sans-Cravate, +tapping his pocket, "that I didn't count on at all."</p> + +<p>"We must squeeze 'em dry. You've got twelve francs and I've got fifteen +sous; we'll put 'em together, and spree it till they're dead! What do +you say?"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate was still hesitating, when he turned and saw Paul with his +eyes fastened on him; thereupon he sprang to his feet and kicked his +<i>crochets</i> aside, crying:</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes! let's go and enjoy ourselves; to the devil with work! you're +right. And while that lasts, I shan't have to look at people I hate. +Let's be off, Jean Ficelle! No more work as long as the money holds +out!"</p> + +<p>"Bravo! that's talking! I imagine I am listening to Solomon himself."<a name="vol_3_page_291" id="vol_3_page_291"></a></p> + +<p>In another moment, Jean Ficelle had bestowed the <i>crochets</i> in their +usual place, and the two messengers walked away arm in arm, Sans-Cravate +without looking at Paul, while Jean Ficelle, on the contrary, +ostentatiously cast a sneering glance at their young comrade.</p> + +<p>"Poor Sans-Cravate!" said Paul to himself, when he saw the two men leave +their stand and their work; "he lets Jean Ficelle entice him away, and +perhaps he will end by becoming as much of a ne'er-do-well as his +companion!"</p> + +<p>But the young man soon turned his eyes once more on the neighboring +porte cochère; he was sorely disappointed because Elina did not come +out, and wondered what she could think of him, when she had failed to +find him in his usual place for eleven days.</p> + +<p>He kept his eyes fixed on the door of the house in which the little +dressmaker worked, almost every minute of the day; if he went away to do +an errand, his eyes turned instantly in that direction when he came +back; and he waited and waited, hoping that his love would come out; but +she did not appear.</p> + +<p>At last the night came, and the hour at which the girls ceased their +labors, unless they were detained by some unusual press of work. Paul +had determined not to go away without seeing Elina, even if he had to +pass the whole evening in the street.</p> + +<p>But just before nine o'clock, Elina came out at last, and, although it +was dark, her first glance was at Paul's usual stand; not seeing him +there, she quickened her pace, when she heard a well-known voice behind +her:</p> + +<p>"How fast you go, mademoiselle!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! is it you, Monsieur Paul? You almost frightened me; you see—I +am—I am not used to seeing you now, and I thought you were not here."<a name="vol_3_page_292" id="vol_3_page_292"></a></p> + +<p>"I have been here since morning; I hoped you would come out for a +minute, but I had to wait until now. Ah! the day has seemed terribly +long to me."</p> + +<p>"Really, monsieur; but for the last eleven days I have been expecting to +see you in your place. Every morning I came early, so as to have time to +talk a little with you; but, no, monsieur was never here. I was foolish +enough even to ask leave to go out during the day, thinking that you +would be there, but I took all those steps for nothing. Of course, I was +a great fool to think of—a person who wasn't thinking of me. When one +is thinking of anybody, he doesn't let eleven days go by without a +word."</p> + +<p>Elina said all this very rapidly, as if she did not wish to give her +anger time to cool. Paul listened, walking by her side, and replied with +the accent that comes from the heart:</p> + +<p>"Elina, can it be that you believe that I no longer love you?"</p> + +<p>The girl slackened her pace, and her voice indicated that her anger had +already begun to subside, as she answered:</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur; I do believe it—I am very sure of it. Not to come for +eleven days! not even to find some means to be there just for a moment, +to say a word to me. Oh! that was very cruel."</p> + +<p>"Why, do you suppose, mademoiselle, that the time has not seemed long to +me? that I have not been miserable at being deprived of the happiness of +seeing you and hearing your voice; you, whom I love so dearly, and who +are in my thoughts every instant?"</p> + +<p>Elina stopped altogether, and there was no trace of anger in her voice.<a name="vol_3_page_293" id="vol_3_page_293"></a></p> + +<p>"Well, monsieur, if that is true, then what is the meaning of this long +absence? what became of you for eleven days? it seems to me as if they +were months!"</p> + +<p>"Believe that some very powerful motive was necessary to keep me away +from you."</p> + +<p>"A motive—that is no answer. Tell me, where have you been, what have +you been doing? I have been told that you are a very mysterious person, +that you have several occupations—is that true? No; for you would have +told me. I have been assured, also, that you had robbed your comrade +Sans-Cravate of his—his—mistress."</p> + +<p>"Oh! surely you did not believe that either, did you, mademoiselle? I, +rob my comrade, my friend, of his mistress! for I am fond of +Sans-Cravate, although he has the reputation of being hot-headed and +quarrelsome. I have seen him give all he possessed, the proceeds of a +whole day's work, to a poor woman who went by with two children in her +arms, and dressed in rags. And the man who does that cannot be a bad +man. I, take away his mistress! Is such a thing possible?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! that is what I said when I was told of it: 'Is such a thing +possible?' but they seemed to laugh at me because I refused to believe +it."</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"Your comrades."</p> + +<p>"Have you spoken to them?"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu, yes! I ought not to have done it, but I couldn't contain +myself. When you didn't come, I said to myself that some accident must +have happened to you, or else you were sick. Oh! I was awfully unhappy."</p> + +<p>This time the girl's voice trembled, not with anger, but with sobs; and +Paul, who was close beside her, took her hand and pressed it lovingly in +his own, saying:<a name="vol_3_page_294" id="vol_3_page_294"></a></p> + +<p>"How happy I am! you still love me! Ah! this moment makes me forget all +my cares. To think that anyone should dare to say that I love any other +woman! You do not believe it, Elina, you will never believe it! Poor +messenger that I am, am I not fortunate enough to be loved by you? what +more could I desire?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I believe that you love me. I won't be angry any more; it makes +one too wretched to be angry with a person one loves. Look at me; I am +willing to see your face now. Oh! it seems to me that you have grown +paler, that you have changed, since I saw you. Have you been sick?"</p> + +<p>"No; it's the vexation and disappointment I have suffered."</p> + +<p>"You haven't told me yet what you were doing those eleven days."</p> + +<p>"I have been with a person, a friend, who was very ill; he had nobody +but me to take care of him, so I could not leave him."</p> + +<p>"Oh! in that case, I am not angry with you any more. But you never +mentioned this friend to me."</p> + +<p>"Because I seldom see him—only when he needs me."</p> + +<p>"You are not lying to me? you haven't taken anybody's mistress?"</p> + +<p>"I have thought of nobody but you."</p> + +<p>"Good! now I am happy again. I had so many things to tell you; but when +two people are together, they don't think—that is to say, they think +too much—well, I don't know how it happens, but I forget everything +else."</p> + +<p>"Dear Elina!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! wait—I remember now. First of all, there's a young man—one of +those who came and laughed at us, you remember, when we were in the +loft."<a name="vol_3_page_295" id="vol_3_page_295"></a></p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, I remember; but which one?"</p> + +<p>"He's tall, but not handsome, and he has a bold, impertinent manner."</p> + +<p>"I see which you mean; it must be Monsieur Célestin."</p> + +<p>"Well, I noticed several times that he followed me when I came out of +Madame Dumanchon's at night, to go home; he walked very close to me, and +spoke to me, said a lot of foolish things, I don't know what, for I +didn't listen, I never once answered him, and I walked so fast, to avoid +hearing him, that I assure you he had to run to keep up with me.—'If +Monsieur Paul was here with me,' I said to myself, 'he wouldn't dare to +follow me, and I shouldn't be afraid of this horrid man.'"</p> + +<p>"Poor Elina! did that fellow dare to insult you?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know whether he did or not, for I didn't listen to him. Once he +tried to take my arm and stop me, but I released myself so quickly, and +pushed him away so hard, that he stood as if he was dazed, in the middle +of the street. Well, he didn't follow me any more, and I was very glad; +but this morning——"</p> + +<p>"This morning?"</p> + +<p>"One of your comrades—not Sans-Cravate, but the other one——"</p> + +<p>"Jean Ficelle?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. As I came down from my aunt's lodgings, I found him at the +door.—'Mademoiselle,' he said, 'my comrade Paul would like to speak to +you; he's waiting for you at a little restaurant close by, at the end of +the street; I'll show you the place.'"</p> + +<p>"The villain!"</p> + +<p>"That seemed very strange to me; however, as I had asked your comrades +about you yesterday, I believed that he had seen you, and that you had +asked him to give me<a name="vol_3_page_296" id="vol_3_page_296"></a> that message. So I followed this Jean +Ficelle.—'Why don't Monsieur Paul come himself?' I asked him. 'What +prevents him? is he sick?' But the man only answered, in a sort of +wheedling tone: 'I don't know, mamzelle; but he asked me to tell you +that he must speak to you, and I'm just doing his errand.' At last we +arrived in front of a restaurant, and he said: 'This is the place; my +comrade's expecting you; go right in, don't be afraid, and ask for Paul; +and they'll take you where he is.'"</p> + +<p>"Oh! what an infernal scoundrel that Jean Ficelle is! to second the +scheme of a man who intended to outrage you! So that is what he meant to +hint at this morning when he said that someone might rob me of the woman +I loved. And I was so far from suspecting it! I didn't pay the slightest +attention to his words.—But what happened next?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I was about to go into the restaurant, when something, I don't +know what, held me back. The girls in the workroom have often talked +about places to which men had tried to entice them on one pretext or +another. I said to myself: 'If Monsieur Paul is in here, it seems to me +that it will be enough for me to send him word that I am here, and he +will come out.' Jean Ficelle had disappeared, so I waited till a waiter +passed the door, and said to him: 'Be kind enough to tell Monsieur Paul +that I am waiting for him down here.' The waiter laughed, and told me I +must go upstairs; but when he saw that I insisted on staying in the +street, he said he would take my message; and in a moment I saw the same +young man coming who had followed me so often. When I saw him, I cried +out; he tried to hold me, but I was already a long way off, thanking +heaven that I didn't go into the house."<a name="vol_3_page_297" id="vol_3_page_297"></a></p> + +<p>Paul's blood fairly boiled with rage when he learned that Jean Ficelle +had stooped to further the projects of a man who could have had no other +purpose than to ruin Elina. If his comrade had been in his place at that +moment, he would have made haste to demand an explanation of his +conduct, and would have been very likely to remove any inclination on +his part to act again as the agent of a seducer. But Jean Ficelle and +Sans-Cravate had not reappeared since the morning; and Paul, to reassure +Elina, was compelled to promise her that he would not seek a quarrel +with his fellow messenger.</p> + +<p>"There is no danger for me now," she said; "Jean Ficelle did what he was +told to do, in order to earn money. Certainly it is very wrong to +deceive a young girl, for, of course, he knew that it wasn't you who +sent for me. But all messengers are not over particular. So much the +worse for the dishonest ones! Despise that man, but don't quarrel with +him; if you do, monsieur, I shall never tell you again what happens to +me."</p> + +<p>"Very well; I will obey you."</p> + +<p>"That's right; and then, you must always be with me in the morning when +I go to my work, and at night when I go home; be my protector, my +guardian angel, and I am very sure that no one will try again to induce +me to go into a restaurant."</p> + +<p>"To be always with you—that is my dearest wish; but sometimes——"</p> + +<p>"Your work—yes, I understand. But try to be always at liberty in the +morning and evening. Isn't it enough to work all day?"</p> + +<p>"And if anyone should send word to you to go to a strange house, never +consent."<a name="vol_3_page_298" id="vol_3_page_298"></a></p> + +<p>"Don't be afraid; I will remember the little restaurant. I wish you +could have seen that man's face when he saw that I had escaped him. Oh! +it would have made you laugh. Mon Dieu! it must be awfully late; we have +been talking a long while."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me as if it had been only a minute."</p> + +<p>"Oh! don't think that it's a bore to me! far from it; but my aunt will +want to know where I have been so late. Do you know what time it is, +Monsieur Paul?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't any watch, mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>"Nor I; but we can look into the watchmaker's as we pass. Almost eleven, +do you see? And I had so much more to say to you!"</p> + +<p>"And so had I!"</p> + +<p>"It must wait till to-morrow. Here I am at my door; adieu! till +to-morrow!"</p> + +<p>"Till to-morrow!"</p> + +<p>"I'll try to remember all I had to say to you."</p> + +<p>The lovers parted, regretting that they had not time to talk more. It is +always so while love lasts; for even if they have nothing more to say, +they still have the pleasure of looking at each other.<a name="vol_3_page_299" id="vol_3_page_299"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="XX" id="XX"></a>XX<br /><br /> +<small>TWO RIVALS</small></h2> + +<p>The clock had just struck eleven. Madame Baldimer, dressed with even +more coquetry than usual, had been waiting a long while in her boudoir; +impatience, uneasiness, and anger gleamed in her eyes. Again and again +she rose, paced the floor excitedly, stopped to listen for the doorbell, +then looked at her clock. For the third time she pulled a bellrope, and +her maid appeared.</p> + +<p>"Has no one come, Rosa?"</p> + +<p>"No, madame."</p> + +<p>"It is inconceivable! I wrote him to come at ten, and now it is eleven! +He is always so eager, so prompt! I cannot understand it. If he had +triumphed, I could conceive of his failing to keep an appointment; but +so long as a man is not our conqueror, he is our slave. Can it be that +Albert is not like other men?"</p> + +<p>"Is it Monsieur Albert Vermoncey whom madame expects this evening?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure."</p> + +<p>"And if Monsieur le Comte Dahlborne should come also?"</p> + +<p>"Well! you will admit him."</p> + +<p>"Even if Monsieur Albert is here?"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! yes; how stupid you are!"</p> + +<p>The maid left the room. Madame Baldimer threw herself on a divan, with +her eyes still fixed on the clock; and as the hand circled the dial, her +face assumed a<a name="vol_3_page_300" id="vol_3_page_300"></a> serious, sombre expression; one would have said that, +with the speeding minutes, all the plans she had formed were vanishing +in air.</p> + +<p>At last, the bell rang. The fair widow drew herself up with an almost +convulsive movement.</p> + +<p>"Here he is!" she exclaimed, and her features assumed an expression of +joy and triumph.</p> + +<p>In another instant the door opened. The maid announced Monsieur Albert +Vermoncey, and the young man darted joyously into the boudoir.</p> + +<p>"Here I am at last!" he cried; "I have had a hard time of it, madame, +and I did think that it would be impossible for me to-night to enjoy the +pleasure of seeing you, and of this delightful interview which I desired +so earnestly!"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! monsieur, what has happened to you, pray? I have been +expecting you since ten o'clock. I had no sooner returned from the +country than I hastened to let you know; I even did you the favor to say +that I should expect you this evening. I thought that you would be very +glad to see me again. But, instead of that, monsieur does not come. +Perhaps I did wrong to write you—I have taken you from your +pleasures——"</p> + +<p>"Oh! do not say that. But pray listen to my story—it is very amusing, I +assure you. I am just from the guardhouse."</p> + +<p>"From the guardhouse! Why, what have you been doing?"</p> + +<p>"It all grew out of a joke we intended to play on a certain young man; I +and three of my friends were waiting for him on Place des Italiens. As +he owes five hundred francs to a gentleman to whom he gave an olive as +security,—it's a gambling debt,—we agreed that, as<a name="vol_3_page_301" id="vol_3_page_301"></a> soon as he +appeared, we would all rush upon him, each of us presenting an olive and +demanding five hundred francs. But one of my friends, who is naturally +very absent-minded, made a mistake and pounced upon a respectable +citizen, who was waiting to buy a check for the Opéra-Comique. He was +frightened, and shouted <i>thief</i>. We ran up, and so did the guard; to cut +it short, we were all four taken to the guardhouse at the theatre, and I +fancy we should have been locked up for the night, had it not been for a +staff officer, a friend of my father, who happened to pass. He answered +for us, and then they consented to believe that we were not thieves, and +they set us at liberty."</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer laughed heartily at Albert's adventure. Meanwhile, he +took up a package which he had deposited on a table when he came in, and +placed it on the lovely widow's knees.</p> + +<p>"See," he said, "is not this what you expressed a wish to possess?"</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer removed the paper, which contained a magnificent +cashmere shawl. Her face was radiant and she bestowed the sweetest of +smiles on the young man, murmuring:</p> + +<p>"Oh! but you are really too gallant; it is too beautiful, and a present +of such value—— No; I cannot accept it."</p> + +<p>"You accept a superb fan from Count Dahlborne!"</p> + +<p>"There's a vast difference between a fan and this; people will say that +I lead you on to do foolish things."</p> + +<p>"Ah! I shall be only too happy to do them, if your love is the reward."</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer did not reply, but she allowed Albert to take her hand +and cover it with kisses. He<a name="vol_3_page_302" id="vol_3_page_302"></a> tried to put his arm about her waist; but +she gently repulsed him, saying:</p> + +<p>"But how did you succeed in finding out that it was this very shawl that +I wanted?"</p> + +<p>"Didn't you tell me that it was like one that Madame Plays wore at one +of Count Dahlborne's receptions?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I remember——"</p> + +<p>"Well! I called on Madame Plays and asked her to show me the beautiful +cashmere she wore that day."</p> + +<p>"But I thought that you had quarrelled with that lady."</p> + +<p>"I presented her with a bouquet, and she forgave me."</p> + +<p>"Just for the bouquet?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes."</p> + +<p>"Hm! I imagine that the shawl must have cost you something more."</p> + +<p>"You are mistaken."</p> + +<p>"Poor Herminie! if she knew that she owed your visit solely to your +desire to give me a shawl like one of hers! Ha! ha! ha! she would be +frantic! What traitors men are, aren't they?"</p> + +<p>"We are driven to it sometimes."</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! I like to think of going to see her with this shawl over my +shoulders—she was so proud of hers! she will be struck dumb."</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer continued to laugh. Albert tried to give a more +sentimental turn to the conversation, and, as a woman is not usually +cruel when she laughs, he tried to take advantage of her merriment to +renew certain manœuvres which would, he hoped, lead him to a complete +victory. But his adversary, laughing all the while, defended herself +with a dexterity which did not indicate that her heart was disposed to +surrender.<a name="vol_3_page_303" id="vol_3_page_303"></a></p> + +<p>Albert was beginning to consider that Madame Baldimer prolonged his +torment a little too far, when the doorbell rang again.</p> + +<p>"Who can have come so late to call upon you?" cried Albert; "it is +almost twelve o'clock, and I thought that you would receive nobody but +me to-night."</p> + +<p>"Really, I don't expect anybody, unless possibly it is Count Dahlborne. +That man pesters me with his attentions. He has probably heard of my +return, and he loses no time——"</p> + +<p>"But a man doesn't call at this time of night, unless he is on very good +terms with a woman!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! monsieur, that suspicion——"</p> + +<p>"Very well! if it's the count, send him away—don't receive him."</p> + +<p>Before Madame Baldimer could reply, the maid announced Count Dahlborne, +and the Swede instantly made his appearance.</p> + +<p>Albert's features contracted. Madame Baldimer welcomed the count with an +affable smile; and he, as cold and formal as ever, saluted her with his +usual stiffness, imprinted a kiss on her hand, and sat down beside her, +precisely as if Albert were not present.</p> + +<p>The young man amused himself tearing his gloves, while his reflections +took this turn:</p> + +<p>"This must come to an end; I didn't give her a shawl that cost five +thousand francs for the pleasure of seeing this man."</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer made one or two of the commonplace remarks which people +employ to open a conversation.</p> + +<p>The Swede replied with his usual brevity. Albert did not say a word.<a name="vol_3_page_304" id="vol_3_page_304"></a></p> + +<p>At last, at a moment when nothing was being said, the count took a +velvet case from his pocket, and handed it to Madame Baldimer, saying:</p> + +<p>"Here is a trifle—to take the place of the fan; it isn't so breakable."</p> + +<p>The widow opened the case, which contained a magnificent opera glass of +most beautiful workmanship; she uttered a cry of admiration, and, taking +the glass from the case, handed it to Albert, saying:</p> + +<p>"Did you ever see anybody so gallant?"</p> + +<p>"It looks very much as if this woman were making a fool of me!" said +Albert to himself.</p> + +<p>However, he restrained himself, and, merely glancing at the glass, cried +with an affected enthusiasm which closely resembled mockery:</p> + +<p>"Oh! it is magnificent! Great God! how beautiful it is! I would like +right well to know where monsieur finds such beautiful things!"</p> + +<p>The Swede bit his lips, but said nothing.</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer continued to extol the opera glass; and Albert, glancing +at the shawl, which lay neglected on a chair, said to himself:</p> + +<p>"God! what fools men are sometimes!"</p> + +<p>But the conversation languished. Madame Baldimer made but a feeble +effort to sustain it. The Swede said a word or two at once, never more +than that; and Albert contented himself with ejaculating at intervals:</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! what an opera glass! it is dazzling!"</p> + +<p>Whereupon the count made an imperceptible grimace, and glanced furtively +at the young man.</p> + +<p>It was long after twelve o'clock. The gentlemen seemed no more disposed +to give way to each other than on the day of the fan. Suddenly Madame +Baldimer rose.<a name="vol_3_page_305" id="vol_3_page_305"></a></p> + +<p>"It is very late, messieurs," she said; "I am going to bed, and I bid +you good-night!"</p> + +<p>The two men rose to salute her.</p> + +<p>The lovely widow took occasion to whisper to Albert, as she asked him to +hand her the shawl:</p> + +<p>"That man is insufferable to me; try to rid me of him."</p> + +<p>Albert simply bowed, without a word.</p> + +<p>Then, as she passed the count, she said in his ear:</p> + +<p>"That young man is always at my heels; pray find some way to relieve me +of his presence."</p> + +<p>The Swede, in his turn, made a low bow.</p> + +<p>Thereupon she left the two gentlemen in the boudoir, each reflecting +upon what she had just whispered to him. They glanced at each other from +time to time—Albert with a mocking expression, the count with a slight +frown.</p> + +<p>After some minutes had passed thus, the Swede decided to speak first. He +walked up to Albert, and said to him, still in a most ceremonious tone:</p> + +<p>"It seems to me, monsieur, that you meant to be understood as making fun +of the opera glass which I presented to Madame Baldimer."</p> + +<p>"Faith! yes," the young man airily replied; "after all, monsieur, that's +as good a motive as any! and I fancy that we both understand what we +have in view."</p> + +<p>"Perfectly, monsieur. At what hour to-morrow, if you please?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! not too early, if it's all the same to you; for I am a little lazy +about getting up in the morning."</p> + +<p>"Very good—say ten o'clock?"</p> + +<p>"Ten o'clock it is, at Porte Saint-Mandé; there are a number of very +pleasant, solitary little nooks in that<a name="vol_3_page_306" id="vol_3_page_306"></a> neighborhood, and it's less +common than the Bois de Boulogne. Is that satisfactory to you?"</p> + +<p>"Entirely so; and your weapons?"</p> + +<p>"Whatever you choose."</p> + +<p>"Pistols, then."</p> + +<p>"Agreed."</p> + +<p>"I shall have one second; I believe that one is sufficient, in this +country?"</p> + +<p>"We are at liberty to have two; but, as you say, one is enough."</p> + +<p>"Until to-morrow, then!"</p> + +<p>"Until to-morrow, monsieur le comte! and now, I believe that there is +nothing further to detain us here."</p> + +<p>The Swede bowed with an almost affable expression, and opened the door +of the boudoir, pausing to allow Albert to go out first; but he would +not. After a contest of politeness, the count finally went first, and +they soon reached the foot of the staircase.</p> + +<p>The concierge was asleep; before he opened the door, Albert produced a +dainty cigar case from his pocket and took out a cigar, saying:</p> + +<p>"I am in the habit of smoking every night before I go to bed."</p> + +<p>"I am very much annoyed," said the count; "I have forgotten my case, and +I also am fond of smoking when I go home at night."</p> + +<p>"In that case, allow me to offer you a cigar, monsieur le comte," said +Albert, offering the Swede his case. "I am sure you will like them; they +are very good indeed."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Dahlborne bowed, and took a cigar. Meanwhile, the concierge had +opened the door, and Albert lighted his cigar at the lamp in the porch. +When they<a name="vol_3_page_307" id="vol_3_page_307"></a> were in the street, noticing that his rival had no light, he +offered the lighted end of his cigar, and the count lighted his by it; +then they bowed again, with the utmost courtesy, repeating:</p> + +<p>"Until to-morrow!"</p> + +<p>"At ten o'clock."</p> + +<p>"At Porte Saint-Mandé."</p> + +<h2><a name="XXI" id="XXI"></a>XXI<br /><br /> +<small>TOBIE AS CHEVALIER</small></h2> + +<p>Tobie left Bastringuette, convinced that the lady who desired to see him +the next evening could be no other than she whom he had failed to +triumph over on the Champs-Élysées. He determined to be very prompt at +the rendezvous, and not to take his charmer to a private dining-room +overlooking a mountebank's booth.</p> + +<p>The young man passed the whole of the next day dressing and curling and +perfuming himself.</p> + +<p>"To-night," he thought, "the voluptuous Plays shall not escape me; +indeed, as she herself has made the assignation, it is probable that it +is not her intention to be too cruel. I shall have in her such a +mistress as I desire. She is rich, and they say she is capable of doing +insane things for a man she loves. Suppose she should be willing to +redeem my olive from Varinet—why not?—until Aunt Abraham gives me an +interest in her business. Faith! I feel disposed to be very amorous."</p> + +<p>The night arrived in due time; Tobie, having become less timid since he +had a love affair in prospect, left his<a name="vol_3_page_308" id="vol_3_page_308"></a> lodgings just at dusk. It was +only half-past eight, and he was walking slowly in the direction of +Place des Italiens, when, at the corner of Rue du Mont-Blanc, his +attention was attracted by a lady crossing the street, whose figure +resembled that of the person he expected to meet; quickening his pace a +little, he soon overtook her, and found that it was, in truth, the +sentimental Herminie. He at once approached her and offered his arm, +saying:</p> + +<p>"I was on my way to the rendezvous; you see how zealous I am, for it is +not nine o'clock; but it seems that we are equally eager for the +meeting."</p> + +<p>Madame Plays started back, surprised to see a stranger offer her his +arm; but in an instant she recognized Pigeonnier, and exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"What! is it you, monsieur? Are you on your way again to replace your +friend—that blackguard Albert? Ah! what a monster that fellow is! how I +detest him!"</p> + +<p>"Why, no, madame; I have come on my own account; I am on my way to the +Pâté des Italiens, as you know."</p> + +<p>"As I know? What difference does it make to me where you are going?"</p> + +<p>"Why, don't you understand? I was going to the Pâté des Italiens, at the +time you mentioned."</p> + +<p>"Oh! you weary me with your <i>pâté</i>, monsieur! I don't understand a word +you say."</p> + +<p>"What, madame! wasn't it you who gave me a rendezvous for this evening, +at nine o'clock?"</p> + +<p>"A rendezvous! I! Why, you're mad, monsieur! I never gave you a +rendezvous!"</p> + +<p>Tobie was petrified; he saw that he had formed false hopes; but, +determined to make the most of his meeting with Madame Plays, he +rejoined:<a name="vol_3_page_309" id="vol_3_page_309"></a></p> + +<p>"I was told that a pretty woman wished to see me. The description which +was given me of the person was so seductive—I thought it was you—and +notwithstanding the somewhat—er—savage way you treated me the last +time I saw you, it made me very happy to think that I was going to see +you again."</p> + +<p>Madame Plays was never insensible to a compliment; she could not help +laughing as she glanced at the short, stout youth; then she replied, +with an irritated air:</p> + +<p>"Oh! you're not the one I have a grudge against; but that monster, that +ungrateful wretch! Can you conceive such a thing as his making a fool of +me again?"</p> + +<p>"Who, pray?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Albert, monsieur—your friend Albert."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Albert—it's so long since I saw him."</p> + +<p>"Well, I have seen him again, I have had that happiness. I didn't want +to receive him, I had given orders that he wasn't to be admitted—and if +it hadn't been for that idiot of a Monsieur Plays!"</p> + +<p>"I am very curious to hear the story."</p> + +<p>"Very well; I will take your arm, and tell it to you."</p> + +<p>"Ah! how kind you are!"</p> + +<p>"And perhaps——"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps—— Oh! please finish the sentence, divine creature——"</p> + +<p>"First of all, I want to be revenged on Albert, I give you warning; and +the man who should avenge me—oh! I don't know what I would not do for +him!"</p> + +<p>"O God! you have given me a glimpse of heaven, of Olympus! I will avenge +you, I give you my word; yes, I will avenge you twice over; you will see +what an avenger I am!"<a name="vol_3_page_310" id="vol_3_page_310"></a></p> + +<p>"Enough! Bless my heart, what a libertine you are! You think at once of +things that——"</p> + +<p>"And what do you expect a man to think of when he's beside a pretty +woman?—of roasting coffee?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur, yes, I saw Albert four days ago; he called on me, and I +refused to receive him. Then what does he do? He goes to see my husband, +and makes himself at home in his office;—my husband is so foolishly +good-natured! he made Albert welcome, and I went there, by chance, and +found him there with a lovely bouquet. He made such repentant eyes at +me, that I was kind-hearted enough to allow myself to be moved. In a +word, I consented to let him go with me to my boudoir; there he +said—some pleasant things—nothing to speak of—then begged me to show +him the lovely cashmere shawl that I wore at Count Dahlborne's party. I +yielded to that caprice, and monsieur went away, making an appointment +with me for the next day, which he did not keep."</p> + +<p>"That was abominable!"</p> + +<p>"But that is not all. I have learned since that he has bought the only +shawl like mine in Paris, probably to give it to some woman who was +pleased with mine. So, you see, he came back to me solely to see my +shawl; and, since then, I have written to him six times, and he has not +come again, nor has he even deigned to write a word in reply!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! such conduct is very blameworthy."</p> + +<p>"Say rather that it is worthy of a street urchin."</p> + +<p>"I dared not say it, but I thought so. And you, who deserve to be so +madly adored! As for the letter of the other day, I had not read it; I +handed it to you in all confidence. If I had known that it contained +anything<a name="vol_3_page_311" id="vol_3_page_311"></a> offensive, you must be convinced that I would not have +undertaken to deliver it."</p> + +<p>"I believe you. But to come just to see the shawl, to buy one like it to +give to some woman, to make an appointment with me and not keep it, and +not to answer a single one of my letters—oh! that is too much, and I am +an outraged woman! that is to say, monsieur, I must have blood! For lack +of a better champion, I would have appealed to my husband; I would have +worked him up to the point of fighting with Albert. Yes, he would have +fought, for he does everything I want him to. But, all things +considered, I prefer that he should not be the one to avenge me; that +wouldn't be exciting enough; and as you offer yourself, I accept you."</p> + +<p>Tobie was rather embarrassed; he was not expecting that Madame Plays +would demand that he fight a duel with Albert; he did not suppose that +she contemplated such a serious vengeance as that, and he feared that he +had gone too far.</p> + +<p>The lady observed his indecision, and at once continued:</p> + +<p>"You hesitate! you are not worthy of a glance from me. Release my arm, +monsieur, and do not speak to me, do not look at me again; I do not know +you!"</p> + +<p>"Why, no! no! I am not hesitating," cried Tobie, detaining the arm that +was passed through his; "I will do whatever you wish; I will fight with +Albert, since that will give you pleasure."</p> + +<p>"Very well. You will kill him!"</p> + +<p>"I can't promise to kill him outright, but I will do all that I possibly +can."</p> + +<p>"Well, you will wound him at least, and bring me one of his ears."<a name="vol_3_page_312" id="vol_3_page_312"></a></p> + +<p>"Oho! do you really want one of his ears? It seems to me that I might +bring you something better than that."</p> + +<p>"I want some proof of your victory."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I will bring you one, I promise you."</p> + +<p>"Then you will be—my chevalier."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't I be that at once; I only ask to be armed."</p> + +<p>"When you have conquered Albert."</p> + +<p>"Give me the kiss, at least."</p> + +<p>"Can you think of such a thing, here, on the boulevard?"</p> + +<p>"Let us take a cab; one can be created a chevalier very nicely in a cab; +why, one of my friends was admitted into the Freemasons in a +<i>citadine</i>."</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur, no; I won't get into a cab with you now. You see, I know +you; you are too enterprising; when you have avenged me, it will be a +different matter. Then I shall feel bound to reward you."</p> + +<p>"Ah! mon Dieu! how I wish that that time had come!"</p> + +<p>"It depends entirely upon you whether it comes soon."</p> + +<p>"It won't be long, I promise you. I will go in search of Albert, and you +will have news of him very quickly. Either you will be avenged, or I +will perish in the attempt!"</p> + +<p>"Bravo! you are a man of spirit. Come and tell me the result of your +duel—for you will be the victor, I have no doubt. You may come up to my +boudoir by the narrow staircase on the right in the courtyard; it is on +the first floor. Say to my maid: 'I am Tobie,' and you will be +admitted."</p> + +<p>"Ah! I shall swoon with joy on the threshold of your boudoir!"</p> + +<p>"I should say that you would do much better to come in."<a name="vol_3_page_313" id="vol_3_page_313"></a></p> + +<p>"I will come in, adorable creature! I will come in, and you will be +obliged to turn me out!"</p> + +<p>"And now, adieu! I must leave you; I am going to take a cab and pass the +evening with one of my friends."</p> + +<p>"And you won't allow me to go with you?"</p> + +<p>"No. Adieu!"</p> + +<p>Madame Plays hurried away, and Tobie, who had entirely forgotten the +rendezvous on Place des Italiens, returned to his lodgings.</p> + +<p>"Most assuredly I shall not fight with Albert," he said to himself; "I +haven't the slightest inclination to do it. But I will tell him of my +meeting with Madame Plays, as well as her proposition to me. Albert is a +good fellow, he likes a joke, and he will help me to invent some way of +making her think that we have fought. Oh, yes!—but my olive! However, +it isn't Albert that I owe the money to, after all, and I'll tell him +Varinet hasn't shown up."</p> + +<p>Nine o'clock was just striking, the next morning, when Tobie called at +the Vermoncey mansion and asked Albert's servant if his friend was +visible. The servant ushered Tobie into the young man's bedroom, where +he was still asleep.</p> + +<p>"It's I, my dear Albert," said Tobie, speaking very loudly; "if you want +to sleep some more, don't wake up; I will go away."</p> + +<p>Albert woke, rubbed his eyes, recognized Tobie, and murmured sleepily:</p> + +<p>"What! is it you, Tobie? where in the devil have you come from?"</p> + +<p>"From home, of course."</p> + +<p>"And why didn't you come last evening to Place des Italiens, where +somebody was waiting for you?"<a name="vol_3_page_314" id="vol_3_page_314"></a></p> + +<p>"Oho! how do you know that?"</p> + +<p>"Parbleu! because it was Mouillot, Balivan, Célestin, and I who made the +appointment with you through Bastringuette."</p> + +<p>"Really?"</p> + +<p>"We meant to play a practical joke on you, and we got ourselves arrested +and put in the guardhouse!"</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! charming! delicious!"</p> + +<p>The little man twisted himself about in an easy-chair, and laughed till +he cried.</p> + +<p>"But tell me why you have come to see me so early in the day? have you +come to redeem your fetich? Perhaps you don't know Varinet's address?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't come for that, my friend. I have another reason; I have a +favor to ask of you."</p> + +<p>"You want to borrow five hundred francs?"</p> + +<p>"That isn't what I came for, but if you are willing to lend it to me, it +would be very welcome just at this time."</p> + +<p>"Well, why did you come and disturb my sleep?"</p> + +<p>"In the first place, my friend, it's late, and I wouldn't have waked you +if your servant hadn't told me that you had something on hand this +morning."</p> + +<p>"Great heaven!" cried Albert, hastily throwing off the bedclothes; "you +remind me! what time is it, pray?"</p> + +<p>"About a quarter past nine."</p> + +<p>"I haven't a minute to lose, for I have a duel this morning at ten! Gad! +I must make haste."</p> + +<p>"What's that? you are going to fight a duel?" said Tobie, involuntarily +recoiling from his friend, and concluding that Albert was aware of +Madame Plays's hopes; "why, no, Albert; no, you mustn't fight; it isn't +worthwhile—a burlesque duel is all that's necessary."<a name="vol_3_page_315" id="vol_3_page_315"></a></p> + +<p>"What in the devil are you talking about? do you mean to say that you +know the cause of my duel with Count Dahlborne?"</p> + +<p>"Count Dahlborne? oho! you're going to fight with him, are you?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure."</p> + +<p>Tobie breathed more freely.</p> + +<p>"No, I know nothing about that," he replied, running his hand through +his hair; "I got it mixed up with something else. Imagine, if you +please, that Madame Plays, whom I met last night, absolutely insists on +my fighting with you."</p> + +<p>"Oh! as to her, it's a different matter. Poor woman! What answer did you +make?"</p> + +<p>"I promised to kill you for her."</p> + +<p>"Very good; listen—perhaps it can be arranged to suit you: if the count +kills me, you must tell Madame Plays that you did it."</p> + +<p>"Oh! the idea! Poor Albert! I should be so distressed! Are you really +going to fight?"</p> + +<p>"Most certainly I am. By the way, as you are on the spot, you must be my +second; for I shall not have time to send for anybody else."</p> + +<p>"Your second!"</p> + +<p>"You don't mean to refuse, I trust?"</p> + +<p>"You see, my dear fellow, if you should be wounded, I should be ill, I +know."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! you must overcome such weaknesses as that; you shall be my +second, and I'll lend you five hundred francs to redeem your olive; and +I give you leave to tell Madame Plays that you have beaten me, wounded +me, killed me—whatever you choose."</p> + +<p>"I haven't the heart to refuse. I will sacrifice myself and be your +second. Shall we breakfast?"<a name="vol_3_page_316" id="vol_3_page_316"></a></p> + +<p>"I think not; but afterward, if I am the victor, there'll be nothing to +prevent."</p> + +<p>While they were talking, Albert had dressed; he took his box of pistols, +sent for a cab, and entered it with Tobie, who was very pale and +agitated. As they passed the Café de Paris, on the boulevard, Albert +cried:</p> + +<p>"Oh! mon Dieu! I have forgotten something!"</p> + +<p>"What is it? Have you two duels on hand?"</p> + +<p>"No, but if anything should happen to me—I haven't written a word of +farewell to my father. I will step into this café, while you go and find +a messenger for me—Sans-Cravate, if you can."</p> + +<p>"Very well, my friend."</p> + +<p>Albert alighted from the cab and went into the café to write his letter; +meanwhile, Tobie turned back to the corner of Rue du Helder to find the +messenger. Sans-Cravate and Jean Ficelle were not in their places, but +he saw Paul and hurried to where he stood.</p> + +<p>"You must come with me, my boy."</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"You will be given a letter to deliver."</p> + +<p>"I will deliver it, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"You are to carry it to—but my friend probably won't want it to be +delivered at once. It's a very serious matter—a duel."</p> + +<p>"Is it you who are going to fight, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"No; but I am to act as second, which is almost the same thing. The +letter's for his father. Sapristi! this business upsets me so—it seems +to me it would be much better if we could prevent this duel."</p> + +<p>"How can that be done, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't any idea; but come."<a name="vol_3_page_317" id="vol_3_page_317"></a></p> + +<p>Paul accompanied Tobie. Albert had written his letter, and was waiting +by the cab.</p> + +<p>"Hurry, hurry!" he shouted to Tobie, who did not quicken his pace. "It +has just occurred to me that you can take this letter and give it to my +father, if I am killed."</p> + +<p>"Thanks; much obliged; a delightful commission that! No, indeed; give it +to this fellow."</p> + +<p>Albert handed Paul the letter, saying:</p> + +<p>"Now, my friend, listen carefully to what I say. If you do not see me +again within two hours, you will take this letter to my father, Monsieur +Vermoncey, Rue Caumartin—the address is on the envelope; but not before +two hours from this time! do you understand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Take this;—and now, Tobie, let us be off."</p> + +<p>Albert entered the cab, but Tobie seized the opportunity to whisper in +Paul's ear:</p> + +<p>"Carry the letter at once; then his father, knowing that he is going to +fight, may succeed in preventing the duel."</p> + +<p>"Come on, Tobie! we have no time to waste."</p> + +<p>"Here I am; I was just fixing my suspenders."</p> + +<p>When the young men were in the cab, the driver, spurred on by Albert, +lashed his horse, which started off at a rapid trot; and Paul was left +standing on the boulevard, with the letter to Monsieur Vermoncey in his +hand.</p> + +<p>The young messenger considered what it was his duty to do. The sight of +Albert recalled the adventure of the loft, Célestin's insolence, and his +schemes to seduce Elina. For a moment, he was tempted to wait the +prescribed two hours before delivering the letter. But such impulses, +inspired by hatred, could not long exist in his heart.<a name="vol_3_page_318" id="vol_3_page_318"></a></p> + +<p>"This Monsieur Albert isn't as vicious as the others," he thought; "he +allows his friends to lead him into folly, just as Sans-Cravate allows +Jean Ficelle to lead him. But I don't believe that he is bad at heart. +And if he should be killed! Mon Dieu! I think I have heard that his +father had no one left but him, that he had lost all his other children. +Ah! I must at least try to save this one for him. I will deliver the +letter at once."</p> + +<p>Paul went to the address written on the letter. He did not know Albert's +father, he had never seen him; and yet, the thought of his grief if his +son should fall in this duel awoke the keenest interest in his heart.</p> + +<p>"I would like to speak to Monsieur Vermoncey—the elder," said Paul to +the concierge.</p> + +<p>"Second floor, door at the left."</p> + +<p>"Is he at home?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; he never goes out so early."</p> + +<p>The messenger ran hastily up the two flights of stairs, rang at the +door, and said to the servant who answered the bell:</p> + +<p>"I would like to speak to Monsieur Vermoncey."</p> + +<p>"What do you want of him?"</p> + +<p>"I have a letter for him."</p> + +<p>"Give it to me; I will hand it to him."</p> + +<p>"Oh! no, I must give it into his own hands."</p> + +<p>"But monsieur is breakfasting. However, I'll go and tell him. Wait."</p> + +<p>"But tell him that it is very urgent, most important."</p> + +<p>The servant left Paul in the reception-room, frantic with impatience. At +last the man returned, and ushered him into the room where Monsieur +Vermoncey was breakfasting.</p> + +<p>Albert's father looked up at the young man, who seemed to be profoundly +agitated. Paul's interesting and<a name="vol_3_page_319" id="vol_3_page_319"></a> by no means ordinary face prepossessed +everybody in his favor; Monsieur Vermoncey addressed him kindly:</p> + +<p>"You wish to speak to me, my friend?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"You have a letter for me, I understand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Give it to me."</p> + +<p>"Oh! pardon me; but I must tell you first under what circumstances it +was handed to me."</p> + +<p>"Very well, go on. But you seem much excited, my friend; try to be calm. +If you have come in behalf of some unfortunate person, I will try to +grant his request."</p> + +<p>"Oh! it isn't that, monsieur; this letter that I have brought is from +monsieur your son."</p> + +<p>"From my son?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur; he handed it to me a few minutes ago, and said: 'If you +don't see me again in two hours, take this letter to my father; but not +before.'"</p> + +<p>"What does it mean?"</p> + +<p>"But his friend, the man who was with him, whispered to me: 'Go to +Monsieur Vermoncey at once; there's to be a duel.'"</p> + +<p>"A duel! O my God!"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey rose, took the letter from Paul's hand, and hastily +ran his eyes over it.</p> + +<p>"The unhappy boy!" he cried; "he says good-bye to me, asks me to forgive +him for fighting. Ah! he must have determined to kill me too. But you +say it was only a moment ago that Albert gave you this letter?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur—out on the boulevard."</p> + +<p>"Ah! then he shall not fight; I will stop this duel. O my God! my son, +the last of my children! to lose him as well would be too horrible!"<a name="vol_3_page_320" id="vol_3_page_320"></a></p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey put on his hat and hastened downstairs, followed by +Paul. When they were in the street, he looked anxiously at the +messenger, and said:</p> + +<p>"You know where this duel is to take place, do you not?"</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur; they did not tell me that."</p> + +<p>"What! his friend did not tell you?"</p> + +<p>"No, I suppose he didn't think of it; and it didn't occur to me to ask +him."</p> + +<p>"What a misfortune! Where are we to go, then? where shall we find them?"</p> + +<p>"One moment, monsieur; they were in a cab in front of the Café de Paris; +they have not gone to the Bois de Boulogne, for the cab drove away +rapidly in the direction of Porte Saint-Denis."</p> + +<p>"Then they must be at Vincennes; yes, that must be the place. We will go +there. Isn't that a cab yonder? just call it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur."</p> + +<p>Paul ran to call the cab; Monsieur Vermoncey stepped in, and said to the +messenger:</p> + +<p>"Come with me, my friend; you must help me in my search."</p> + +<p>"Gladly, monsieur; but I will get up behind."</p> + +<p>"No, no, come in here, with me; you understand my suffering, I can see +that. You will help me to find my son, to prevent a ghastly calamity. +Come quickly!"</p> + +<p>Paul stepped into the cab and seated himself beside Monsieur Vermoncey, +who said to the driver:</p> + +<p>"Twenty francs, forty francs, as much money as you want, if we are at +the Forest of Vincennes in half an hour!"</p> + +<p>The driver urged his horses to a gallop.<a name="vol_3_page_321" id="vol_3_page_321"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="XXII" id="XXII"></a>XXII<br /><br /> +<small>THE DUEL AND ITS RESULTS.—A TOKEN OF VICTORY.—TOBIE'S REWARD</small></h2> + +<p>Albert and Tobie arrived at Porte Saint-Mandé as the clock struck ten. +They alighted from their cab, and saw a carriage a few yards away.</p> + +<p>"The count is ahead of me," said Albert; "but it's all right; we are in +time. Yes, I see two gentlemen walking along the avenue yonder. Those +are our adversaries. Come, Tobie, forward!"</p> + +<p>"What do you say? <i>our</i> adversaries!" cried Pigeonnier, walking as if he +had on three pairs of trousers; "I have no adversaries; I didn't come +here to fight!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, that's all right, don't be alarmed. In old times, the seconds +used to fight; and if you want to follow the example of the +<i>raffinés</i>,—under Louis XIII, for instance, they sometimes fought six +against six; those were pleasure parties, on my word!"</p> + +<p>"A delicious kind of pleasure! I have no admiration for the manners of +those days."</p> + +<p>"Well, Tobie, come on, for heaven's sake! What the devil! are your +trousers too tight for you? you act as if you couldn't walk!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, they cut me; they hurt me terribly."</p> + +<p>Count Dahlborne's second was a Swede, a friend of his, who was as tall +and stiff as he; he had been in Paris only a few days, and did not +understand French, his ability to speak that tongue being thus far +limited to the phrases: <i>Oui, monsieur</i>, and <i>bien obligé</i>.<a name="vol_3_page_322" id="vol_3_page_322"></a></p> + +<p>Albert went forward to meet his opponent, and they saluted each other +with much courtesy.</p> + +<p>"Allow me to present Monsieur de Mulberg," said the count, waving his +hand toward his second.</p> + +<p>Albert, assuming that it was a Swedish custom to introduce one's second, +stepped back, and said, indicating Tobie, who persisted in remaining in +the background:</p> + +<p>"And I have the honor of presenting Monsieur Tobie Pigeonnier."</p> + +<p>The salutations were repeated, and Monsieur de Mulberg walked up to +Tobie and held out his hand, saying:</p> + +<p>"<i>Bien obligé</i>,<a name="FNanchor_N_14" id="FNanchor_N_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_N_14" class="fnanchor">[N]</a> monsieur!"</p> + +<p>"What's that? it isn't worth while," rejoined Tobie, allowing his hand +to be shaken with a decidedly ill grace.</p> + +<p>Albert pointed to a path at the right, and said to the count:</p> + +<p>"Let us go in this direction; we shall be able to find a place where we +shall not be seen or disturbed."</p> + +<p>They all followed Albert, Tobie still in the rear and walking as if he +were very uncomfortable. Albert halted in an isolated open space, +surrounded by dense bushes, saying:</p> + +<p>"It seems to me that we shall be very comfortable here."</p> + +<p>Count Dahlborne nodded his head in assent, and turned to his friend.</p> + +<p>"Arrange the preliminaries with monsieur, Monsieur de Mulberg," he said.</p> + +<p>Monsieur de Mulberg walked gravely to Tobie, and began to talk Swedish +with him, offering his pistols. Tobie poked him in the stomach, and +said:</p> + +<p>"Look you! I believe you agree with me that this affair can be arranged. +What is the difficulty? I'll bet that it's some foolish trifle."<a name="vol_3_page_323" id="vol_3_page_323"></a></p> + +<p>Monsieur de Mulberg, who was a very ceremonious individual, was much +offended because the little man presumed to poke him in the stomach. He +frowned, uttered a violent oath, stamped on the ground, and handed Tobie +a pistol, exclaiming:</p> + +<p>"<i>Oui, monsieur, bien obligé.</i>"</p> + +<p>Tobie hastily drew back, saying to his principal:</p> + +<p>"How do you expect me to agree to anything with this gentleman? He talks +some language I never heard before, and looks all the time as if he +meant to fire at me."</p> + +<p>"Look you, monsieur le comte," said Albert, "I fancy that we can arrange +matters better than our seconds can. Let us stand thirty paces apart; we +will each walk forward ten paces when your second claps his hands, and +fire when we please. Is that satisfactory to you?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly."</p> + +<p>"I will take my place.—Tobie, count off thirty paces, starting from +here."</p> + +<p>Tobie acted as if he were uncertain whether he would do it or not; but +he finally decided to do so, and made each of his paces twice the usual +length.</p> + +<p>"You want to fight, do you?" he said to himself; "and you don't think +anything about breakfasting. All right! get it over at once! To think +that that Monsieur Vermoncey doesn't come! The messenger probably didn't +understand me."</p> + +<p>The distance being marked off and the adversaries in their places, +Monsieur de Mulberg clapped his hands, and Tobie lay flat on the ground, +muttering:</p> + +<p>"Nobody knows what may happen! Unskilful men have been known to shoot +their seconds, but I don't suppose they'll aim at the ground."<a name="vol_3_page_324" id="vol_3_page_324"></a></p> + +<p>The combatants walked forward two or three steps, then fired at almost +the same instant. Albert received the bullet in his coat collar. But +Count Dahlborne was less fortunate; he was shot in the left arm, near +the shoulder, but did not fall.</p> + +<p>"Are you wounded, monsieur le comte?" asked Albert, running up to him.</p> + +<p>"Yes—in the arm—the shoulder, I believe. Oh! it's a trifle. I don't +see why we should go any further. But you are a fine young fellow, and I +consider it my duty to tell you what Madame Baldimer whispered to me +last night when she left us."</p> + +<p>"Ah! she said something to you, did she? And to me, too."</p> + +<p>"She whispered these words in my ear: 'This young man is constantly at +my heels; find some way to rid me of his presence.'"</p> + +<p>Albert turned pale when he heard what his fair enslaver thought of him.</p> + +<p>"I give you my word of honor that she said that to me," added the count.</p> + +<p>"I believe you, especially as she said to me, speaking of you: 'That man +is insufferable to me; try to rid me of him.'"</p> + +<p>"She's a woman who isn't worth having two respectable men fight for her. +I abandon the field to you, monsieur; I shall go no more to her house."</p> + +<p>"Oh! my love has vanished, monsieur le comte; I mean to go there once +more, simply to bid her farewell and tell her that I am no longer her +dupe; then I shall never see her again."</p> + +<p>During this conversation, Albert supported the count, while Monsieur de +Mulberg went to fetch the carriage.<a name="vol_3_page_325" id="vol_3_page_325"></a> As for Tobie, immediately after the +exchange of shots, he sprang to his feet and ran after Monsieur +Dahlborne's second, crying:</p> + +<p>"It won't amount to anything—a wound in the arm—it isn't dangerous."</p> + +<p>But Monsieur de Mulberg, to whom it had seemed very strange that their +opponent's second should throw himself flat on his stomach as the shots +were fired, bestowed a wrathful glance upon him, and turned away, +muttering:</p> + +<p>"<i>Bien obligé</i>, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Go to the devil! You make me sick!" said Pigeonnier to himself, as he +walked toward the cab. "One would say that he was angry because his +friend isn't killed!"</p> + +<p>Monsieur de Mulberg arrived with the carriage, and Albert assisted the +count to get in; then they parted, with a shake of the hand.</p> + +<p>Albert went to join Tobie, who was already in their cab.</p> + +<p>"Well," exclaimed the latter, when his friend came in sight, "I trust +that we are satisfied! Victors! and not a scratch! That is a very +agreeable ending. We shall eat breakfast enough for four."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I am indignant beyond words! I am furious!" said Albert, as he +entered the cab.</p> + +<p>"The deuce you are! I don't understand at all. Are you furious because +you aren't wounded?"</p> + +<p>"Bah! I am not talking about the duel! It's that woman I am thinking of! +that woman who has mocked at me and my love! who hoped, perhaps, that I +would be killed!"</p> + +<p>"Oho! so it was on a woman's account that you fought. They have the very +devil in them, these women, to insist upon it that we should all fight +for them!"<a name="vol_3_page_326" id="vol_3_page_326"></a></p> + +<p>"I am going to her now, to confound her.—Whip up your horse, driver; +you may drop me at Rue Neuve-Vivienne.—Do you, Tobie, go at once and +find that messenger, and get my letter. You will understand that it must +not be delivered to my father, for it would cause him unnecessary +anxiety."</p> + +<p>Tobie made no reply. He recalled what he had told Paul to do, and +wondered what the result would be.</p> + +<p>"Oh! these women! these women!" cried Albert; "I am utterly unable to +understand this one. What coquetry! what perfidy!"</p> + +<p>"It's Madame Baldimer, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; it is she! Oh! I will tell the whole world of her shameful +conduct! Our homage is not enough for her; she must have our blood!"</p> + +<p>"Thanks! she shan't have mine; I wouldn't prick myself with a pin for +her. But, by the way—what about our duel—concerning Madame Plays?"</p> + +<p>"Tell her that you killed me."</p> + +<p>"Killed you!"</p> + +<p>"You can safely say that, as I am going to leave Paris for several +months. I want to divert my thoughts; above all things, I want to forget +that woman who has made a plaything of my affection. I shall start this +very evening."</p> + +<p>"All right; it's agreed that I have killed you, that you are dead. She +will find out later that it isn't true; but what do I care? when she has +once accorded me her favors, she can't take them back. Such things, when +they're once given, aren't to be taken back. To be sure, although they +give them away, they still have them; that is very agreeable for those +who like to be generous."<a name="vol_3_page_327" id="vol_3_page_327"></a></p> + +<p>The cab had reached Rue Neuve-Vivienne. Albert alighted in front of +Madame Baldimer's house, and said to Tobie:</p> + +<p>"Now, go at once and find the messenger, so that he won't carry the +letter to my father."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes! I will go. But I say, Albert, you promised to lend me—you +know—the money to redeem my olive."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! Well, come to the house soon—this evening; I will give you +the money."</p> + +<p>"I won't fail. By the way, you will gratify me by not telling the other +fellows that——"</p> + +<p>Albert was not listening; he had hastened to the stairs, and he ran up +without taking breath. When he reached Madame Baldimer's door, he rang. +The maid opened the door.</p> + +<p>"Your mistress—where is she? I must speak with her instantly. I +absolutely must!"</p> + +<p>The tone in which the young man spoke, his agitated manner, the pallor +of his cheeks, alarmed the maid, who replied:</p> + +<p>"Madame is at home, monsieur, and I would certainly tell her that you +are here, but—at this moment—I don't dare to go in—because——"</p> + +<p>"Because—well, go on."</p> + +<p>"Because madame is not alone. There's a gentleman with her."</p> + +<p>"A gentleman! What gentleman? It can't be Count Dahlborne, for I have +just left him, and he is wounded."</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur; it isn't Count Dahlborne."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, who is it? Tell me, Rosa. Here, take this, and conceal +nothing from me."</p> + +<p>Albert resorted to the irresistible argument; he took several gold +pieces from his pocket and put them in the<a name="vol_3_page_328" id="vol_3_page_328"></a> servant's hand, and thereby +completely loosed her tongue; indeed, she had a tender regard for the +young man, because he was an exceedingly comely youth, and with many +women, especially young women, that, too, is an irresistible argument.</p> + +<p>"Well, monsieur," replied Rosa, speaking very low, "madame is with that +tall young man—one of your friends, I think, as I have met him +sometimes walking with you."</p> + +<p>"What! can it be Célestin?"</p> + +<p>"That's the name—it is Monsieur Célestin."</p> + +<p>"And he comes here? Madame Baldimer receives him?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! quite often, too."</p> + +<p>"Is he her lover?"</p> + +<p>"No, no! oh! as to that, I assure you that he isn't anything of the +kind; not that he doesn't want to be, for he makes love to madame; but, +between you and me, I think she's fooling him."</p> + +<p>"He comes to see her! and he never told me!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Pardi!</i> he'd be mighty careful not to, as he comes and tells madame +everything you do; and, between you and me, I think that's all madame +receives him for."</p> + +<p>"The villain! can it be possible? play the spy on me!"</p> + +<p>"And this morning, only a moment ago, I heard—because, you see, when +I'm near the door, I can hear very well without listening; I have sharp +ears—I heard Monsieur Célestin tell Madame Baldimer that you were to +fight a duel this morning with Count Dahlborne; that he was watching +last night in the street, and heard you say: 'Until to-morrow, at ten +o'clock, at Porte Saint-Mandé.'"</p> + +<p>"Ah! this is too much!"<a name="vol_3_page_329" id="vol_3_page_329"></a></p> + +<p>And Albert rushed toward the salon, paying no heed to Rosa, who besought +him not to betray her; he strode rapidly through two rooms to the +boudoir, opened the door, and found himself in the presence of Madame +Baldimer and his intimate friend Célestin.</p> + +<p>The lovely widow was half reclining on a couch, listening to Monsieur +Célestin, who sat on a chair a few feet away, apparently talking with +much earnestness.</p> + +<p>At sight of Albert, both were petrified; but in Célestin's case, it was +simply regret at being surprised in Madame Baldimer's house; whereas, in +her case, it was consternation and rage at the certainty that her hopes +were crushed.</p> + +<p>"It is I," said Albert, throwing himself into a chair; "I am sure that +you did not expect me; madame flattered herself, no doubt, that Count +Dahlborne had relieved her of my presence, as she begged him to do last +night, after making a similar request of me, in a whisper, with respect +to him."</p> + +<p>The fair American turned ghastly pale, while Monsieur Célestin rose and +took his hat.</p> + +<p>"As it happens, my dear friend," he said, "I learned that you were to +fight a duel this morning, and I came here to tell madame, because, +knowing that she has a—most affectionate regard for you, I thought +that—that she might perhaps prevent the meeting."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you say, also, that it is because you are in the habit of +coming here to report to madame everything I do, and that, abusing my +confidence in you, you have been false to our friendship in the hope +that that would serve your love."</p> + +<p>Célestin bit his lips and lost something of his assurance.</p> + +<p>"Oh! upon my word," he faltered, "what an idea! <a name="vol_3_page_330" id="vol_3_page_330"></a>Someone has slandered +me. I am not capable—— But you probably have much to say to each +other. I do not wish to disturb your tête-à-tête. Au revoir, Albert!—my +respects, madame!"</p> + +<p>And Célestin left the room, his departure being apparently unnoticed by +the two persons he addressed.</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer kept her eyes fixed on the floor, and seemed to be +absorbed by the emotion caused by Albert's unexpected arrival. He gazed +earnestly at that woman whose beauty had set his heart on fire, and +tried to find in the expression of her face something that betrayed the +falseness of her heart.</p> + +<p>After a prolonged scrutiny of her features, which led to no discovery, +unless it were this—that a perfectly regular face affords much less +scope than another for the observations of the moralist, Albert turned +his eyes elsewhere, and chance willed that they should fall on Madame +Baldimer's feet, which, at that moment, she had not remembered to keep +out of sight, as she usually did.</p> + +<p>We have already said that her foot was the fair American's weak point, +and that, like the peacock, her pride did not attach to that part of her +person, which, for that reason, she almost never showed.</p> + +<p>Albert was amazed at the sight of that broad, flat foot, so entirely out +of harmony with the lady's slender figure; and the longer he looked at +it, the more conscious he became of a feeling of something like +satisfaction, of well-being; his heart seemed to be relieved of a +weight; his anger vanished, and he ended by laughing heartily, saying:</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! I was mad! Gad! if I had only seen it sooner!"</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer looked up when she heard Albert laugh, and saw that his +eyes were fastened on her feet. A deep flush overspread her face, she +hurriedly rearranged<a name="vol_3_page_331" id="vol_3_page_331"></a> her dress, so that it covered even the soles of +her shoes; but it was too late, the effect was wrought. Albert rose and +bowed to the fair widow, saying in a mocking tone:</p> + +<p>"On my honor, madame, if I had seen them sooner, I assure you that I +would not have fought for you!"</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer's eyes gleamed with a furious expression difficult to +describe. Having said this much,—and he could have wreaked no more +cruel vengeance on a coquette,—Albert left the house and hurried to his +own home.</p> + +<p>At sight of him, the concierge uttered a joyful exclamation, which was +echoed by one of his father's servants, who was in the courtyard.</p> + +<p>"Well, what's the matter?" queried Albert; "why does my presence produce +this effect on you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! monsieur, is it really you? What joy!"</p> + +<p>"We were terribly afraid you were dead, monsieur——"</p> + +<p>"That you had been killed in a duel——"</p> + +<p>"Ah! how happy monsieur your father will be when he sees you—he was so +anxious, so distressed, when he went away!"</p> + +<p>"How did my father know that I had a duel for this morning? Who could +have told him?"</p> + +<p>"A messenger, who came with a letter; and we heard Monsieur Vermoncey +say, when he was coming downstairs: 'If only I arrive in time to prevent +this duel, and nothing has happened to my son!'"</p> + +<p>Albert was grieved that the affair should have come to his father's +ears, for he was well aware of his great love for him, and he realized +how anxious he must be at that moment; but he did not understand why the +messenger had brought his letter, as Tobie should have found him in +ample time to countermand the order.<a name="vol_3_page_332" id="vol_3_page_332"></a></p> + +<p>"Where did he go to look for me?" asked Albert. "I didn't mention in my +letter where we were to fight, and the messenger couldn't have known +that."</p> + +<p>The concierge and the servant had no idea; they could only tell what +they knew: that Monsieur Vermoncey was very anxious, very much agitated; +that he was talking to himself aloud when he came downstairs; that when +he was in the street, he stopped, and, after talking a few seconds with +the messenger, sent him to call a cab; and that, when it came, they both +got in and drove away very fast.</p> + +<p>Albert did not know what steps to take to find his father, for he feared +that, while he was looking for him in one direction, Monsieur Vermoncey +would be prosecuting his search in a diametrically opposite direction. +However, as he could not remain at rest when he thought of the suffering +he had caused his father, he sent for a cab, and had determined to scour +the neighborhood of Vincennes and Saint-Mandé, when the servant, who was +standing at the door, cried out:</p> + +<p>"Here he is, monsieur! I know the cab, and I can see monsieur your +father and the messenger inside. Here he is!"</p> + +<p>A moment later, a cab did, in fact, stop in front of the house. Albert +was in the street, making signs by which his father might recognize him. +Monsieur Vermoncey uttered a joyful cry, and, leaping from the carriage, +threw himself into his son's arms and held him to his heart for a long, +long time. If you have ever thought that you had lost the object of your +affection, the being who, more than any other, makes life dear to you, +you will realize to the full the bliss of recovering him and holding him +in your arms. You fear lest that bliss is only a lie, and you<a name="vol_3_page_333" id="vol_3_page_333"></a> feel that +you must prolong it to the utmost in order to make sure that it is real.</p> + +<p>Paul's eyes were wet with tears when he saw Albert in his father's arms. +He, too, was happy that nothing had happened to the young man whose +father was so devotedly attached to him. And yet, there was always a +strain of sadness in his feelings when he saw a child caressed by its +parents.</p> + +<p>At last, Monsieur Vermoncey, being a little calmer, started to go +upstairs with his son, and Paul was about to leave the house; but +Albert's father, noticing it, said to him:</p> + +<p>"Come, my friend; come upstairs with us."</p> + +<p>The young messenger obeyed, and followed Monsieur Vermoncey and his son +to their apartments.</p> + +<p>There Albert tried to understand what had happened; he asked Paul why, +instead of following his instructions, he had neglected to wait two +hours before bringing to Monsieur Vermoncey the letter he had given him. +The messenger told what Tobie had said to him, and Albert angrily +stamped on the floor, crying:</p> + +<p>"That Tobie must always put his foot in it; he is the cause of all your +anxiety."</p> + +<p>"This young man," said Monsieur Vermoncey, pointing to Paul, "having +noticed that you drove along the boulevards toward Porte Saint-Antoine, +I thought that your duel would probably take place at Vincennes. We +drove there in a very short time. After appointing a place of meeting, +we beat up the woods, I and this good fellow—who seconded me with a +zeal which I cannot praise too highly! We met at the appointed place, +tired out and no wiser than before. Being convinced that you were not to +fight at Vincennes, I was about to start for<a name="vol_3_page_334" id="vol_3_page_334"></a> Romainville, when this +young man advised me to inquire first at Saint-Mandé. There I learned +that you had been seen, and that the duel had evidently taken place, for +a wounded man had been taken away in a carriage, going at a very slow +pace. But was it you, or was it your opponent? that, it was impossible +for me to find out; so I decided to come back here, suffering torments +of anxiety which you can well imagine. But here you are! I ought to +reprove you, but I like to think that you will remember the torture I +have suffered to-day, and that you will not subject me to such misery +again."</p> + +<p>While Albert promised his father to be more prudent in the future, +Monsieur Vermoncey went to his secretary, took from it ten napoleons, +and handed them to Paul.</p> + +<p>"Here, my friend," he said, "accept this from me. What you have done for +me to-day cannot be paid for, I know; for I have found in you what we +often seek in vain among people who claim to be our friends: a man who +understood my distress, who shared it, and who did everything in his +power to relieve it. And it was not selfish interest that guided you; +no, it was your heart alone; for I saw tears of joy fall from your eyes +when you perceived my son in the distance. You are kind-hearted and +susceptible to noble sentiments; you must be a worthy fellow and a +blessing to your parents; take this as a souvenir of this day."</p> + +<p>Paul was deeply moved and could hardly make out to say, in faltering +tones:</p> + +<p>"But this is too much, monsieur; I was paid beforehand—I do not want +any more; I am so happy to have been useful to you."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey took the young man's hand, and, while pressing it +affectionately, placed the money in it.<a name="vol_3_page_335" id="vol_3_page_335"></a></p> + +<p>"Come, come! accept it as a favor to me; you will grieve me if you +refuse. Take the money to your mother, so that she too may be happy +to-day."</p> + +<p>Paul lowered his eyes without replying, and Monsieur Vermoncey +continued:</p> + +<p>"By the way, my friend, where is your stand?"</p> + +<p>"Rue du Helder, monsieur, at the corner of the boulevard. Monsieur your +son knows me very well."</p> + +<p>"Are you his regular messenger?"</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur; but my comrade Sans-Cravate is; his stand is—not far +from mine."</p> + +<p>"That is true," said Albert; "and if I had found him this morning, I +probably should have employed him to do my errand."</p> + +<p>"Well," continued Monsieur Vermoncey, "hereafter I propose to employ no +other messenger than you. What is your name?"</p> + +<p>"Paul, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Very well, Paul, you understand, you are to be my messenger. You are +not sorry, I trust, are you?"</p> + +<p>"Far from it, monsieur; and I will do all that I can to deserve your +confidence."</p> + +<p>"I am sure of it, my friend; and now—au revoir!"</p> + +<p>Paul bowed low and left the room, touched to the quick by the interest +manifested by Monsieur Vermoncey, and with his heart filled with a +strange joy, the cause of which he was at a loss to understand.</p> + +<p>When Albert was alone with his father, he embraced him again.</p> + +<p>"You were right," he cried, "perfectly right! when you told me that some +love intrigues were very dangerous, that there were women who led us +much further than we meant to go; and when you told me to distrust<a name="vol_3_page_336" id="vol_3_page_336"></a> my +friend Célestin, whose manner did not attract you. Yes, father; you +judged him fairly. My friend Célestin is a traitor, who deceived me and +tried to rob me of the woman I was trying to overcome; and as for +her,—as false as and even more treacherous than Célestin, as she had +not love for an excuse,—she pretended to love me, gave me the most +alluring hopes, and secretly requested a Swedish count, who was paying +court to her, to rid her of me as soon as possible."</p> + +<p>"What infernal perfidy! Can it be that women treat you so—young as you +are, and amiable, and made to please!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, father. But not all of them, luckily."</p> + +<p>"Who is this woman, pray, whose heart is so black?"</p> + +<p>"An American; or, at least, a person who has lately come from America; +for I believe that she is a native-born Frenchwoman; an alleged +widow,—very beautiful, I must admit,—who calls herself Madame +Baldimer."</p> + +<p>"Baldimer; I have never heard that name before."</p> + +<p>"She has been in Paris only a year, and frequents a certain—rather +eccentric social circle, which is not that which you frequent. Well, I +had the good luck to inflict only a trifling wound on the Swedish count, +with whom she had the cleverness to involve me in a duel—a most +excellent gentleman, who, like myself, has sworn to have no more to do +with Madame Baldimer. I have told my friend Célestin what I think of +him. And now, father, to enable me to forget entirely this affair and +the woman who caused it, let me travel a few months; it will do me good; +it will force me to break these Parisian habits and intimacies, which +are not all beneficial, as I have had a chance to find out. I shall +return a new man, refreshed and sensible. You will let me go, won't +you?"<a name="vol_3_page_337" id="vol_3_page_337"></a></p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear boy; although it is painful to me to be deprived of your +presence, I am not selfish enough to object to a journey which cannot +fail to do you good. To leave Paris for some time will certainly be +beneficial to you; and it will be to your advantage to see a little of +the world. But you won't be away too long, will you?"</p> + +<p>"Two or three months at most."</p> + +<p>"Where do you mean to go?"</p> + +<p>"I have no idea; I would like to have an opportunity to start at once."</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! if you care to see Normandie, my doctor came to see me last +night, and offered to take me there with him, without expense, in a +comfortable post chaise which one of his patients has sent him. He +starts to-day, at three o'clock."</p> + +<p>"To-day, at three o'clock. Parbleu! that suits me exactly. As well +Normandie as any other place. At all events, when I have had enough of +it, I can go somewhere else. Quickly, father! give me a line to your +doctor, telling him that he will have a travelling companion; meanwhile, +I will make what preparations are indispensable, put some money in my +pocket—and off we go!"</p> + +<p>"You still have some money, I trust?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, father; of course, I haven't spent the ten thousand francs you +gave me a few days ago."</p> + +<p>Albert bit his lips as he spoke; the memory of the cashmere shawl made +him sigh; but he soon banished the thought, and went to make his +preparations for departure, while Monsieur Vermoncey wrote to his +doctor.</p> + +<p>While all this was happening, Tobie Pigeonnier had not remained +inactive. On leaving Albert, he returned to Paul's stand; but the +messenger was not there.<a name="vol_3_page_338" id="vol_3_page_338"></a></p> + +<p>"What good would it do if I should wait for him? I told him to carry +Monsieur Vermoncey his son's letter at once. It's too late now for me to +tell him not to carry it. I did it with the best intentions. Papa +Vermoncey must have received the letter a long while ago; he must think +that his son is dead now, and probably he is in terrible distress, +scurrying about the suburbs to find some trace of his child; it's a +calamity, and I am very sorry; but, after all, when he sees his Albert +again, he'll find out that he isn't dead, and he'll be consoled. So I +don't need to worry any more about that affair. I must give a little +thought to my own concerns now. Albert has given me leave to say that I +fought a duel with him and killed him; that is delicious; he is going to +travel for some time, my lie won't be discovered right away, and, before +it is, my love will be crowned with its greenest myrtle. O superb Plays! +thou shalt be mine! I quiver with joy at the thought. But before I call +on her, I must go home and make a most careful toilet."</p> + +<p>Tobie bent his steps toward his abode, but, before he arrived there, he +recalled the fact that he had not breakfasted as he had hoped to do in +the capacity of second in a duel; his stomach told him that he must +satisfy its cravings before attending to anything else. He felt in his +pocket, and exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"<i>Fichtre!</i> I have fifteen francs with me, my whole fortune at this +moment. Suppose I treat myself to a <i>déjeuner à la fourchette</i> of the +right sort—why not? Albert is going to lend me five hundred francs—to +redeem my olive; but, after all, I'm not obliged to go and redeem it +to-day. The gentleman with white eyebrows, who is very rich, can afford +to wait a few days more. Meanwhile, I'll go to see Aunt Abraham, with<a name="vol_3_page_339" id="vol_3_page_339"></a> +my five hundred francs in my pocket, and I'll take care to jingle them +so she will think I'm doing a big business, and then perhaps she'll make +up her mind to give me an interest in her business. I'll breakfast at +the Café Anglais. I'm hungry enough to treat myself handsomely."</p> + +<p>And the little dandy, swaggering as if he had his cane, and all puffed +up with the good fortune that he anticipated, entered the Café Anglais +with his nose in the air, seated himself at a table, called the waiter +in a loud voice, ordered oysters, kidneys, chicken <i>à la tartare</i>, and +beaune première, with the assured air of a man who cares nothing for the +expense and whose only thought is to breakfast bountifully. He was +served promptly, he ate with zest, his appetite was even keener after +the oysters, and became more imperative than ever after the kidneys. +Tobie denied it nothing, until it was completely satisfied. Not until he +had eaten for an hour and a half, almost without intermission, did he +decide to stop. It was high time; his bill amounted to fourteen francs +fifty centimes. He generously gave the waiter fifteen centimes, put the +remaining seven sous in his pocket, and went to his lodgings, his brain +excited by thoughts of love, and by the bottle of beaune he had +consumed.</p> + +<p>Tobie passed his clothes in review—an operation which required much +less time than he could have wished. After a careful examination of his +three waistcoats, his two pairs of trousers, and his only coat, he put +on those which he judged to be in the best condition; then he curled and +crimped and anointed himself, and saturated himself with eau de cologne; +as he had no other perfume, he drenched his handkerchief with essence of +lemon used to<a name="vol_3_page_340" id="vol_3_page_340"></a> remove stains; the result being that his concierge, when +he passed, mistook him for a bowl of Roman punch.</p> + +<p>Thus arrayed and anointed, young Pigeonnier repaired to Madame Plays's +abode.</p> + +<p>"She accepted me for her chevalier," he said to himself; "I will go and +tell her that she is fully avenged. She will be delighted with me, and +she will reward my valor by the sweetest caresses. By the way, what did +I kill Albert with? With a pistol? no, that is too commonplace. With a +sword—I like that better; it's more after the style of the chevaliers +of old; I split his head open—no, I pierced his breast with a +sword-thrust. Ah! here is her house; I must not forget the directions +she gave me: the little staircase at the right; I am to go up to the +first floor, and say: 'I am Tobie,' and I shall be admitted at once. +But, mon Dieu! it just occurs to me; she told me to bring her a token of +my victory; sapristi! I forgot all about that; what, in heaven's name, +shall I take her for a token?"</p> + +<p>Tobie walked back and forth in front of Madame Plays's house, scratching +his head in his efforts to think what he could carry her in default of +Albert's ears, which she herself had suggested. He searched his pockets, +but could find only his handkerchief perfumed with lemon, and the seven +sous remaining from his fifteen francs; there was nothing which could +possibly be produced as a token of victory.</p> + +<p>Tobie had almost determined to present himself without a token, when, as +he looked about, he spied at some distance one of the enormous rolls, or +<i>carrots</i>, which are commonly suspended over the doors of tobacco shops. +It arrested the young man's attention, and an idea entered his mind, +which he caught on the wing and clung to. He<a name="vol_3_page_341" id="vol_3_page_341"></a> walked rapidly to the +tobacco shop, and arrived there still in possession of his idea, which +he proceeded to put into execution.</p> + +<p>The dealers in tobacco are almost all women, and Tobie said to the woman +behind the counter:</p> + +<p>"A cigar, madame, if you please."</p> + +<p>"There they are, monsieur; take your choice."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I want something better than those; I must have a very fine +five-sou cigar; one can get a very fine cigar for five sous."</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur; here are some; but if you want a still larger one, we +make them for ten sous; they're magnificent—almost as big as carrots. +Would monsieur like one for ten sous?"</p> + +<p>"No, no! that's too big; this one will do very well."</p> + +<p>Tobie selected a five-sou cigar, and had it carefully wrapped in paper, +to the amazement of the dealer, because a man who buys one cigar +ordinarily begins by lighting it. At last, armed with his cigar, which +he placed in his pocket, he returned to Madame Plays's house.</p> + +<p>"Now I am all right," he said to himself; "I have all I require, I have +my token of victory. Albert almost always has a cigar in his mouth, and +I'll say that I found this one in his pocket and took it. What a bright +idea that was of mine! O suggestive carrot! how glad I am that I +happened to see you!"</p> + +<p>Tobie entered the house, stalked by the concierge, calling to him, with +a superb air: "Madame Plays!" ascended the little staircase, rang, and +said in a cajoling tone to the maid who opened the door:</p> + +<p>"Be good enough to announce me to madame; she will receive me at once."</p> + +<p>"What is monsieur's name?"<a name="vol_3_page_342" id="vol_3_page_342"></a></p> + +<p>"Tobie. I am Tobie. Just say to your enchanting mistress: 'Madame, it is +Tobie,' and she will understand."</p> + +<p>The maid turned on her heel, muttering:</p> + +<p>"Tobie! Tobie! that's a funny name. Seems to me, madame used to have a +little dog of that name."</p> + +<p>Madame Plays was before her mirror, trying a new way of arranging her +hair on top of her head, which was supposed to make her look like a +Spartan woman. Madame Plays was much inclined toward Greek styles; and +ever since she had heard that the women of Sparta used to dance a dance +called <i>Bibasis</i>, which consisted principally in kicking themselves +behind with their heels, she had passed part of the day practising that +dance.</p> + +<p>"If there are idiots who say that it's nothing more than the cancan," +she would say to herself, "I'll just answer: 'You are donkeys; it's the +<i>Bibasis</i>, an old dance of the Greeks revived.'"</p> + +<p>When her maid announced Tobie, she started.</p> + +<p>"Tobie!" she exclaimed. "Oh! yes, to be sure! I had forgotten all about +him. Let Tobie come in; let him come in at once!"</p> + +<p>The maid ushered the young man into the room, and retired. When he +entered the boudoir, Pigeonnier deemed it fitting to assume an air at +once tender and melancholy; so he stepped forward and saluted Madame +Plays with an expression bordering on the tragic.</p> + +<p>"It's you, is it, monsieur?" she said. "But I remember, you were my +chevalier. Well! what news do you bring me?"</p> + +<p>Tobie struck an attitude, and replied:</p> + +<p>"It is, in very truth, as your chevalier that I present myself, madame; +you ordered me to avenge your wrongs by fighting with Albert, and I have +obeyed you."<a name="vol_3_page_343" id="vol_3_page_343"></a></p> + +<p>"Oho! indeed! you have fought a duel with him, have you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, madame."</p> + +<p>"When was that?"</p> + +<p>"This morning, at Saint-Mandé. A thousand witnesses can inform you that +I went there with Albert."</p> + +<p>"And what did you fight with?"</p> + +<p>"Swords, madame."</p> + +<p>"Well! what was the result?"</p> + +<p>"I fulfilled your wishes to the utmost, madame; you wished me to kill +Albert, and I have killed him—a sword-thrust in the breast; he died on +the spot. I shed tears over my victory, I am not ashamed to admit +it.—But as I placed my hand on the poor fellow's heart, to find out +whether he still breathed, I felt this cigar in his pocket, and took it. +You desired a token of my victory: this is the only one that I can offer +you."</p> + +<p>Madame Plays listened to Tobie with the air of one who could not believe +what she heard; but when he had concluded, she rushed at him with a +furious gesture and cried, snatching the cigar from his hand:</p> + +<p>"You have killed him! Can it be possible? such a lovely boy! the only +man I have ever loved! Yes, I was saying to myself this morning: 'I have +never loved any man but him.'—And you had the villainy to kill him! and +you come to tell me of it, you murderer!"</p> + +<p>Tobie was utterly crushed.</p> + +<p>"But, madame," he faltered, "I simply carried out your orders; you +ordered me to avenge you."</p> + +<p>"That is not true! I couldn't have said that. Or if I did, I was mad, +and you shouldn't have paid any attention to it."</p> + +<p>"But, madame——"<a name="vol_3_page_344" id="vol_3_page_344"></a></p> + +<p>"To think of killing Albert! such a handsome brunette, and such lovely +eyes! Take yourself out of my sight, monsieur—go instantly, or I won't +answer for the effects of my anger. Go, I say, you monster, you +villain!"</p> + +<p>"What, madame! when I fought solely to avenge you——"</p> + +<p>"Oh! what infamy! to say that it was I who—— Leave the room, +monsieur!"</p> + +<p>Seeing that Tobie did not stir, Madame Plays pushed him roughly toward +the door. The little fellow, who was nearly overturned by the shock, +clung to a chair, and could not make up his mind what to do. Meanwhile, +the robust lady opened the door herself, and, while Pigeonnier's back +was turned, kicked him with all her force.</p> + +<p>"Oho! you refuse to go, do you?"</p> + +<p>By that means, Tobie was at last ejected from the room, and the door was +instantly closed and locked upon him. He flew into a rage in his turn, +and muttered angrily as he descended the stairs:</p> + +<p>"Sacredieu! this is too much! By heaven! I have had enough of that +woman; a slap in the face the other day, and now a kick! What under +heaven will it be the next time? So she is mad because I have killed +Albert! She plays little Hermione, and treats me like Orestes. To be +sure, Orestes didn't receive a kick in the rump; she has interpolated +that.—So you mourn Albert's death, do you?—Very good! just to punish +her, I won't tell her it isn't true. <i>Bigre!</i> what a love affair! I +don't want any more of it, thanks!"</p> + +<p>Holding his hand to the injured part, Tobie betook himself to Albert's +house, to get the five hundred francs which he had promised to lend him, +and which might well act as an antidote to the affront he had +undergone.<a name="vol_3_page_345" id="vol_3_page_345"></a></p> + +<p>But when he inquired for his friend, the servant said:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Albert started for Normandie half an hour ago."</p> + +<p>"He has gone away, and left nothing for me?"</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur."</p> + +<p>Tobie was tempted to beat his brains out against the wall.</p> + +<p>"This caps the climax," he said to himself, as he walked away; "I have +two sous left! Perhaps I had better go and jingle them in Aunt Abraham's +ear, to induce her to make me a partner in her business!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="c"><small>Copyright Copyright 1903 by G. Barrie & Sons.</small></p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/ill_frontis_vol_2.jpg" width="366" height="549" +alt="THE RENDEZVOUS AT THE CAFÉ" title="THE RENDEZVOUS AT THE CAFÉ" /> +</p> + +<p class="caption">THE RENDEZVOUS AT THE CAFÉ<br /> +———<br /> +Another person had, in fact, entered the café. It was a man of +twenty-six or twenty-seven years, of medium height, well set up, with +dark brown hair, a slightly flushed face, sharp eyes, turned-up nose, +and a huge mouth—everything, in short, which denotes a jovial +companion.</p> + +<p><a name="VOLUMEII" id="VOLUMEII"></a></p> + +<h1><small>NOVELS<br /> +BY</small><br /> +<big>Paul de Kock</big><br /> +<br /> +<span class="red"><small>VOLUME IV<br /> +<br /><br /> +SANS-CRAVATE;<br /> +OR,<br /> +THE MESSENGERS<br /> +<br /> +VOL. II</small></span><br /> +<br /> +LITTLE STREAMS</h1> + +<p class="cb"><small>PRINTED BY ARRANGEMENT WITH<br /> +<br /> +GEORGE BARRIE'S SONS</small><br /> +<br /><br /><br /> +THE JEFFERSON PRESS<br /> +BOSTON NEW YORK<br /> +</p> + +<p> +<br /> +</p> + +<p class="c"><small><i>Copyrighted, 1903-1904, by G. B. & Sons.</i></small></p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cb"> +SANS-CRAVATE;<br /> +<br /> +OR,<br /> +<br /> +THE MESSENGERS<br /> +<br /> +[CONTINUED]<br /> +</p> + +<p> +<br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="vol_4_page_002" id="vol_4_page_002"></a></p> + +<p><a name="vol_4_page_003" id="vol_4_page_003"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="XXIII" id="XXIII"></a>XXIII<br /><br /> +<small>A NEW PATRON</small></h2> + +<p>Several days had passed since Albert left Paris. His sudden departure +had greatly surprised his friends and boon companions, and, as they did +not know the cause of it, each of them formed his own conjectures.</p> + +<p>"He probably thought that there wasn't enough sport in Paris," said +Mouillot, "and has gone elsewhere in search of adventures."</p> + +<p>"I have no doubt that he is following some woman who has magnetized +him," observed Monsieur Dupétrain; "someone who can make him go to the +end of the world by the power of her magnetic fluid."</p> + +<p>Balivan, distraught as always, exclaimed at first:</p> + +<p>"What! Albert has left Paris? That's very strange! Can he have gone on a +sketching trip?"—But on the next and following days, as he smoked his +cigar on the boulevard, he never failed to say: "It's a surprising +thing—I haven't met Albert to-day."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Varinet, the young man with white eyebrows, and holder of +Tobie's olive, said nothing at all.</p> + +<p>There were two persons who might have informed these gentlemen as to the +cause of Albert's departure: Tobie Pigeonnier, who had been his second +in the duel, a fact of which he would have boasted everywhere had he +not<a name="vol_4_page_004" id="vol_4_page_004"></a> been forced anew to shun the society of his friends; for, being +less prepared than ever to redeem his fetich, and to cut a figure in +society, the little man had disappeared; no one ever saw him, by day or +by night, so that it might well be believed that he was dead or had left +Paris; and Monsieur Varinet was beginning to contemplate distrustfully +the little, dried fruit which he still kept in his purse.</p> + +<p>The second person was Monsieur Célestin de Valnoir; that gentleman, who +had known of Albert's duel, was not long in learning of his departure +from Paris. He was no sooner absolutely certain of that fact than he +hastened to Madame Baldimer's to inform her.</p> + +<p>That lady, whose features had assumed a more serious expression than +ever since her rupture with young Vermoncey, received Célestin rather +coldly; when she had listened to what he had come to tell her, as to +something which she already knew, she replied shortly:</p> + +<p>"Your intimate friend has left Paris without you! It seems to me that he +has treated us about alike; our discredit is complete. The result is, +monsieur, that I fancy that you are not likely to know much more than I +about his affairs hereafter, so that you will not be called upon to put +yourself out to please me."</p> + +<p>Célestin tried to assume a sentimental air, as he replied:</p> + +<p>"Hereafter, madame, I shall not come to talk about Albert, but about +myself and my love for you. I have broken entirely with my friend, for +Albert, having found me with you, is too jealous to forgive me. I care +very little, however, for his hatred or his indifference, since you have +promised to reward me."</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer rose and bowed low to her visitor.</p> + +<p>"I will keep my promise, monsieur, as you will see very soon."<a name="vol_4_page_005" id="vol_4_page_005"></a></p> + +<p>And the next day, Célestin received a parcel carefully wrapped in paper, +and a short note, in Madame Baldimer's hand, containing these words +only:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"I promised to pay you for what you did for me, and I keep my +promise, monsieur. Deign to accept the contents of this parcel; it +is your compensation."</p></div> + +<p>Célestin hastily tore off the wrapper, and found the magnificent shawl +that Albert had presented to the fair American, and the costly opera +glass given her by Count Dahlborne. Thus she rewarded Célestin by +sending him the gifts she had received from her other two adorers.</p> + +<p>At first, he gnawed his lips in anger, muttering:</p> + +<p>"What does she take me for? I consider her damnably impertinent. The +idea of offering to pay me! It won't take me long to send back her +parcel."</p> + +<p>But, after examining the two objects, Célestin thought better of it and +sent neither of them back.</p> + +<p>"They will help me to seduce some other woman," he said to himself.</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer had estimated him at his exact value.</p> + +<p>Paul had resumed his occupation; as before, he arrived at his stand very +early in the morning; but Elina, too, came to her work at the +dressmaker's before any of her fellow apprentices had left their +beds—in spite of which fact, she was sometimes the last to appear in +the workroom; for every morning she slackened her pace when she saw the +young messenger, who ran quickly to meet her. It rarely happens that +there is not some doorway, some passage, some porte cochère, which +offers shelter to those who wish to talk, and who are very glad not to +stand where they are exposed to the eyes of everybody<a name="vol_4_page_006" id="vol_4_page_006"></a> who passes. +Lovers especially seek sheltered nooks and dark corners; when they are +walking together on the street, you will see them look out of the +corners of their eyes, to right and left, hoping to espy some obscure +passageway, and agreeing that it is a great pity that all the new houses +have porte cochères. And as soon as they discover the most uninviting +nook, they hasten thither to talk a moment. That moment sometimes lasts +for hours. Oftentimes a concierge, disgusted that any one should talk +unless they talk to her, calls out impertinently from the end of the +passage:</p> + +<p>"Aren't you most through chattering there? Well! those people are making +themselves at home! They make assignations in my passageway! They keep +other folks out, but what do they care! If I didn't keep an eye on 'em, +God knows what they'd be up to on my premises! God! what a place this +world is getting to be!"</p> + +<p>Another one will say nothing, but begin to sweep pools of water against +the legs of the couple who have stopped in her doorway. Or else she will +close the door of the passage, saying:</p> + +<p>"Who do you want to see? You can't stand there, I tell you!"</p> + +<p>But all these petty annoyances slide lightly over the good nature of a +pair of lovers. If they are obliged to go away, they stop again a little +farther on; or they defy the sweeping, the unkind remarks, the silly +jests, and the inquisitive glances of the gossips of the quarter, who, +in most cases, act as auxiliaries to the concierges. What do they care +what is said, or what happens about them? oftentimes they don't see it. +It is so pleasant to love and to tell each other of it, to gaze into the +loved one's eyes, to talk in whispers, to understand each other at<a name="vol_4_page_007" id="vol_4_page_007"></a> the +slightest hint, to exchange ardent thoughts and warm breaths. When we +are enjoying such bliss as that, it engrosses us and leaves us no senses +with which to be conscious of anything else. She was quite right, was +that lady of the good old time, who, when her knight sought a shelter +from the rain, cried:</p> + +<p>"You no longer love me! if you did, you would not have noticed that it +rains!"</p> + +<p>Elina told Paul all that she did, all that she thought, all the plans +she formed during the day and sometimes during the night; for one does +not always sleep at night, especially if one is very much in love.</p> + +<p>The young messenger received these sweet confidences with the deepest +interest, for he was always included in Elina's projects. The little +dressmaker had not a thought or hope which did not relate to Paul; and +she told her lover so with an artless sincerity which enchanted him. +But, for all that, he was often very depressed, and that grieved the +young girl, who said to him one morning:</p> + +<p>"Aren't you glad that I tell you all my thoughts? don't you approve of +my plans for the future? Instead of being gratified that I think of you +all the time, it seems to sadden you and make you unhappy; if that's how +it is, monsieur, I won't tell you anything more!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! do not think that, mademoiselle," Paul replied, as he took Elina's +hand. "I listen to you with the greatest pleasure; I am too happy to +hear what you say, to know that I am always in your thoughts. But, do +what I will—I think——"</p> + +<p>"What, pray?"</p> + +<p>"That all these plans are not certain to be carried out. For, before I +can marry you, before I can have the happiness of calling you my wife, I +must have money in<a name="vol_4_page_008" id="vol_4_page_008"></a> hand. Your aunt, Madame Vardeine, will never consent +to give you to a poor messenger; and she will be in the right. Oh! yes, +parents are always right. You are fitted to marry a rich man, with an +established position—a man whose honorable calling will not expose you +to the risk of having to blush for your husband. Not that I despise my +trade! far from it; but the world has its customs, its exigencies, its +laws, which we are bound to respect. The man who stands at the street +corner, to do errands, cannot hope to be received in the salon of the +humblest bourgeois. And you, Elina, with your charms, your intelligence, +your beauty, are capable of conferring happiness on a man who will be +able to take you into society, who will have an attractive position and +a name to offer you. Whereas I lack everything. Ah! you see that I do +wrong to love you! and that I am justified in being depressed!"</p> + +<p>While her young friend was saying this, little Elina showed, by repeated +impatient gestures, how far she was from sharing his ideas. At last, +barely giving him time to finish, she cried:</p> + +<p>"Hush! hush this minute! for what you are saying is very wicked. So you +would have me cease to love you, because you are a messenger! But I +insist upon loving you, monsieur, and I will love you whether you want +me to or not. Besides, what you say isn't fair to yourself. Are you like +other messengers? do you swear every time you speak? are you coarse and +vulgar, and rude in your manners? No, you are just the opposite; you are +perfectly well fitted to go into a salon; indeed, you would not be out +of place; all you would have to do would be to change your jacket for a +coat; and is that so hard to do?"<a name="vol_4_page_009" id="vol_4_page_009"></a></p> + +<p>"No; but the coat isn't enough."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, monsieur—a coat and education. But are you obliged +to remain a messenger forever? When we are married, you can go into +something else; you will have saved something, for you can't spend very +much money, you live so modestly; you never go to the wine shop. I have +heard your comrades say more than once: 'He must be saving money; he +works hard, and never enjoys himself.'"</p> + +<p>Paul looked at the ground as he replied:</p> + +<p>"Alas! no, mademoiselle; I haven't saved anything; I have no money."</p> + +<p>"Why, what do you do with your money, then?" cried Elina. "You can't +give it to your parents, as you haven't any."</p> + +<p>Paul blushed, and stammered:</p> + +<p>"I haven't been able to save anything, mademoiselle; it isn't my fault."</p> + +<p>Elina feared that she had wounded him, and made haste to say:</p> + +<p>"Oh! pray forgive me for saying that. Mon Dieu! perhaps you will think +that I care for money! I care nothing at all about it, I tell you; don't +grieve, Monsieur Paul; we shall have enough, anyway. I am rich, you +know; I have what my father left me, and when I am of age my aunt will +have to give it to me. Then it will be yours, and with that we shall +have enough to start a nice little business. Come, monsieur, don't be +cast down any more, when I tell you that we shall be very happy some +day."</p> + +<p>Paul sighed as he kissed Elina's hand; but soon the smile reappeared on +his lips and love in his eyes; how could he complain when he saw how +dearly she loved him?<a name="vol_4_page_010" id="vol_4_page_010"></a></p> + +<p>Such was generally the end of these interviews on a street corner, under +a porte cochère, or at the entrance of a passage.</p> + +<p>Such loving words as these are not always exchanged behind the gorgeous +hangings of a salon.</p> + +<p>I do not say this to induce you to make love on street corners; but +solely to show you that it is done everywhere. The poor must have some +compensation.</p> + +<p>After these affectionate conversations with the little dressmaker, Paul +returned to his place lighter-hearted and more content with his lot. +Then he would look about for Sans-Cravate, with whom he was most +desirous to be reconciled, because he had, in the depths of his heart, a +feeling of affection for him, which he could not overcome. Genuine +affection is not readily destroyed, and, when you have a sympathetic +feeling for a person, it is like the natural instincts: drive it away if +you will, it returns at a gallop.</p> + +<p>But Sans-Cravate was almost never in his place; as soon as he had earned +a few sous, Jean Ficelle enticed him away to spend them.</p> + +<p>One morning, when Albert had been away from Paris for some time, a +gentleman stopped in front of Paul, who was sitting on his <i>crochets</i>, +and said to him:</p> + +<p>"I was looking for you, my friend; I have something for you to do. Do +you recognize me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, monsieur," Paul replied quickly, and with evident emotion; +"you are Monsieur Albert's father; I should be very blameworthy if I had +forgotten you—you were so kind to me!"</p> + +<p>"I was no more than just," Monsieur Vermoncey rejoined, with a smile. +"Come with me, if you will; I have several errands for you to do."<a name="vol_4_page_011" id="vol_4_page_011"></a></p> + +<p>Paul followed Monsieur Vermoncey, who took him up to his apartment and +gave him several letters to deliver, to which he was to bring back +answers—some verbal, others written. The young man set off at once; he +performed the commissions intrusted to him promptly and with marked +zeal; as most of those to whom he was sent gave him no written answers, +he had to remember exactly what each of them said to him. But he had an +excellent memory, and he transmitted the messages faithfully to Monsieur +Vermoncey.</p> + +<p>Albert's father was surprised at the remarkable celerity with which Paul +had made the journey to several places at a distance from his house, and +greatly pleased by the way in which he had carried out his wishes. He +paid him generously, saying:</p> + +<p>"You have done well, my friend, very well! but another time you need not +hurry so; barely an hour and a quarter to go to all four corners of +Paris! I call that going like the wind, not walking! I don't want you to +make yourself ill in my service."</p> + +<p>"Oh! you need have no fear, monsieur; it is a pleasure to me to show you +my zeal."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey seemed surprised by the young messenger's language. +He looked earnestly at him for several seconds, then dismissed him, +saying:</p> + +<p>"Until another time! but only on condition that you won't go so fast."</p> + +<p>A week later, Monsieur Vermoncey's servant came after Paul, who went +with him at once. The young man was ushered into his patron's apartment, +and the servant left him in the library, saying that he would tell his +master that he was there.</p> + +<p>In a few moments he returned, and said:<a name="vol_4_page_012" id="vol_4_page_012"></a></p> + +<p>"Monsieur has not finished the letter he was writing, and now he has a +visitor; he told me to ask you to wait a little while, if you can."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; so long as monsieur wishes," Paul replied.</p> + +<p>"Stay here, then; it's pleasanter, and nobody goes through this room."</p> + +<p>Left alone, Paul sat down and glanced timidly about. Against all four +walls were shelves filled with books, which were protected from the dust +by sliding glass doors; but several of the doors were open, and the +books were at the service of those who cared for them.</p> + +<p>The young man gazed for some time, with something like envy, at those +treasures of wit and learning gathered in so small a space; he read the +names of Voltaire, Rousseau, Corneille, Molière, Montaigne, La Fontaine, +and said to himself:</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! how fortunate anybody is to own all these books! to be in +such good company! for an author's mind is himself, his works are his +thoughts, and when reading him one can imagine that he is listening to +him; that it is he who is speaking. What a blessed thing is genius! it +does not die! A man can never have a moment's ennui when he is in the +company of those men!"</p> + +<p>Paul heaved a sigh, and, thinking that he might have a long while to +wait in the library, concluded that he would do no harm by opening one +of the books which were before him; so he put out his hand and took the +volume that was nearest him. It was La Rochefoucauld's <i>Maximes</i>; he +resumed his seat, and began to read it with avidity.</p> + +<p>He had been in the library quite a long while, but he was still reading, +and the time passed very quickly. Suddenly he felt a hand on his +shoulder, and, turning his<a name="vol_4_page_013" id="vol_4_page_013"></a> head, saw Monsieur Vermoncey, who said to +him with a smile:</p> + +<p>"Ah! I have caught you."</p> + +<p>The young man blushed, and hastily rose to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Pray forgive me, monsieur," he faltered, "for presuming to take down +one of those books; but I had to wait—and I thought that—that——"</p> + +<p>"There is no occasion to apologize, my friend; you have done no wrong. +On the contrary, it is greatly to your credit that you are fond of +reading. What book have you there?"</p> + +<p>"La Rochefoucauld's <i>Maximes</i>."</p> + +<p>"That is rather a serious work; what do you think of it?"</p> + +<p>"What he says is very sad, and does not give one a very high opinion of +men. But I'm afraid it is true."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey looked at Paul in amazement.</p> + +<p>"Really, my friend," he said, "you are no common messenger; I have +noticed already that you express yourself in much better language than +most of those in your station, and now your opinion of this book proves +that I was not mistaken; you have had a good education, have you not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur; an excellent man, who had no children, became interested +in me and took me into his family when I was hardly ten years old. He +was kind enough to send me to school; and I was so happy not to remain +ignorant, that I made the most of the instruction that was given me."</p> + +<p>"How does it happen that your patron, having given you an education, +allowed you to become a messenger? He should have completed his work and +found you a place."<a name="vol_4_page_014" id="vol_4_page_014"></a></p> + +<p>"Ah! monsieur, it was not that excellent man's fault. He took me into +his own office as clerk; but at his death I lost everything, place and +patron. It was then that I became a messenger; it was necessary for me +to earn money."</p> + +<p>"To assist your parents, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>Paul lowered his eyes, and murmured very low:</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur; it was for them."</p> + +<p>"I understand you now!" cried Monsieur Vermoncey; "you are a good son; +you sacrificed your hopes, your future, to what you considered the duty +of making yourself useful at once to those who gave you life. Poor +fellow! your conduct is very noble. But you must leave a trade which is +not for such as you. Yes; I will undertake to find you an honorable and +lucrative position."</p> + +<p>"Oh! monsieur—such kindness!"</p> + +<p>"Why, it is not more than justice. Anyone can see that you ought not to +be a messenger. Do you know how to write?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur; my handwriting is not very bad; I know how to figure +also."</p> + +<p>"Very good. I will find a place for you, never fear. I can't promise +that it will be very soon, for here in Paris there are so many +applicants for even the smallest places, that there are very few +vacancies; but I promise you that—yes, within three months you will +have changed your position in life."</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! what have I done to deserve that you should take so much +interest in me?"</p> + +<p>"In the first place, all that you did the first time I ever saw you, to +help me to find my son; and, secondly, you attracted me at once; I felt +that you were a worthy<a name="vol_4_page_015" id="vol_4_page_015"></a> young man. Rely on me hereafter; I propose to +replace the protector you have lost."</p> + +<p>"Ah! monsieur."</p> + +<p>Obeying an irresistible impulse, Paul seized Monsieur Vermoncey's hand +and put it to his lips, then let it fall, and drew back, as if he feared +that he had offended him; but Albert's father, deeply touched, took the +young man's hand and pressed it warmly.</p> + +<p>"Come, come, be of good heart, my friend; you will make your way. But, +pending your change of occupation, will you do another errand for +me—take this letter and this casket to one of my friends?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, monsieur; whatever you choose; I am at your service, and shall +always be; even if my position should change, my devotion to you would +remain the same. You will see that my heart is not ungrateful."</p> + +<p>Paul took the letter and casket, and hastened away to deliver them at +their destination. He acquitted himself of his commission with his +accustomed zeal, and his new patron said, as he dismissed him:</p> + +<p>"I shall not forget you, my friend; I shall begin at once to look after +a place for you, for I shall not be content until I see you engaged in +some employment worthy of your education and manners."</p> + +<p>Paul thanked Monsieur Vermoncey again, and took leave of him, mentally +returning thanks to heaven for giving him a new protector. He began now +to believe that Elina's delightful plans might be carried out, and that +the dreams of happiness of which she so often told him might some day +come to pass.<a name="vol_4_page_016" id="vol_4_page_016"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="XXIV" id="XXIV"></a>XXIV<br /><br /> +<small>WINE.—CARDS.—BLOWS</small></h2> + +<p>It was eleven o'clock in the forenoon; Sans-Cravate, who had done a good +day's work the day before, carrying billets-doux for several young men +of fashion, who are always generous when they are in good humor, had +gone off to walk as usual with Jean Ficelle, who led him toward Pont +d'Austerlitz, to the place where games of chance were usually in +operation.</p> + +<p>As they walked along, the two friends, who had already refreshed +themselves several times, talked with much animation; and the amusing +part of it was that while one of them talked on one subject, the other +talked on another, and neither of them listened or answered; which did +not prevent them from going on.</p> + +<p>"Yes!" said Sans-Cravate; "I don't think any more of her than if I'd +never known her. Damme! if anybody should ask me now what color +Bastringuette's eyes are, I should be hard put to it to answer. I don't +remember."</p> + +<p>"And you see," said Jean Ficelle, "there is people who say that you +never win at cards. But that's all nonsense! and the proof is that I +might have made my fortune if I hadn't been a coward."</p> + +<p>"But to say that she wasn't pretty, that there wasn't something alluring +about her—I should lie, if I denied it. But all women have that. +Parbleu! you only have to be in love to find it out."<a name="vol_4_page_017" id="vol_4_page_017"></a></p> + +<p>"Look you, I'll give you a comparison: You haven't got any money, and +you stake what you have—then you win! But if you have anything, you're +afraid of losing it; so you won't risk it, and you miss the chance of +making a fortune."</p> + +<p>"And that fellow who's always looking at me, and acts as if he wanted to +speak to me. Oh! just let him come—I'll give him a warm reception! It +ain't that I've seen him with Bastringuette. No, I'll have to admit +that; since that day on Rue Barbette, when we met Paul dressed like a +swell, and Bastringuette a little farther on—I've never seen him with +her, and they do well to keep out of sight! For if they should act as if +they meant to laugh at me—why, by heaven! it would go hard with 'em!"</p> + +<p>"And then, you see, there's some who are mighty smart—they always win. +I know one fellow—and he's a great swell—who makes six francs a day +with <i>biribi;</i> that's a trade that would suit me down to the ground!"</p> + +<p>Suddenly Jean Ficelle put his hand on his comrade's arm and stopped him, +saying:</p> + +<p>"Look, they're already at it, the rascals! They go to work early, +they're no sluggards!"</p> + +<p>The messengers had reached the river bank, near a game of <i>table-basse</i>, +run by a tall fellow whose tongue was never at rest; he bewildered his +audience by his incessant chatter.</p> + +<p>A number of men of somewhat forbidding aspect were gathered about the +game. But as two countrymen approached, the spectators made room for +them; and the sharper offered them a dicebox with some little balls, +crying:</p> + +<p>"Come, messieurs, try your luck! every throw wins something, and it's +only twenty sous a throw; and for<a name="vol_4_page_018" id="vol_4_page_018"></a> twenty sous, if you choose, you can +win a magnificent silver repeating watch, or a cover of the same metal, +which you can have the pleasure of presenting to your good wife; or a +thimble,—also of the same metal,—with which you can do homage to your +venerable mother, if you are fortunate enough to possess her still."</p> + +<p>The peasants could not resist the temptation; one of them took the +dicebox and threw the balls, and Jean-Pierre counted. (<i>Jean-Pierre</i> is +the sobriquet by which these charlatans call one another.) He counted +with amazing facility and dexterity; his addition always seemed +perfectly fair, but no one ever won prizes worth more than two or three +sous.</p> + +<p>"Come, messieurs, keep on, try your luck again," cried Jean-Pierre; +"that throw turned out well for Jean-Pierre, but the luck will change; +you'll win the big prizes, messieurs! and Jean-Pierre will be in the +hole. But he will always be only too happy to fulfil his engagements +with the honorable company."</p> + +<p>The peasant, who had won only a box of matches for his twenty sous, +threw again, in the hope of having better luck, and the product of the +sale of his cabbages, beans, and strawberries soon passed into +Jean-Pierre's pockets.</p> + +<p>While the bumpkin stood rooted to the spot, dazed by the loss of his +money, a mechanic approached the table, and, after looking on for some +time, observed:</p> + +<p>"I like <i>biribi</i> better."</p> + +<p>"Here you are, monsieur! here's the <i>biribi</i> you're looking for!" cried +the sharper, producing three cards from an apron which he wore, and in +which was an enormous pocket whose gaping mouth seemed ready to engulf +all the silver and loose change of the assembled company.<a name="vol_4_page_019" id="vol_4_page_019"></a></p> + +<p>While the sharper arranged his <i>biribi</i> table, and made his three cards +fly about with remarkable dexterity, another mechanic, who had followed +his comrade, said to him:</p> + +<p>"Come away, Benoît; don't bet! Those games are a fraud, you know that +everyone always loses."</p> + +<p>"What's that, monsieur, you say that everyone always loses with me?" +cried the croupier, having first cleared his throat in order to speak +more volubly. "Why, in that case, you can't have been present at all the +throws I lost just now. Ask the honorable company here present if I +haven't paid out more than a hundred francs within half an hour—yes, +monsieur, a hundred francs! And I don't put it too high, and I don't +count a silver watch that that gentleman over yonder won from me—the +one with the handsome whiskers; and ear-rings—of pure gold, +hall-marked, that I redeemed for twelve francs from that short young man +who looks so happy, and who means to give the money to his virtuous +mother, who has longed for a cup of chocolate for sixty years!—Isn't +this so, my little man?—You see, he shows you his twelve francs and +presses them to his heart. Oh, no! no one ever wins with me, messieurs! +But, I tell you, this game is absolutely free from trickery; it is +simply for you to guess where the card called <i>biribi</i> is. It isn't my +fault when you guess wrong. The sums I have already lost are enormous! +But if I should tell you that I always lose, I should lie; no, +messieurs, I don't always lose; but you have an even chance, if you have +a sharp eye, if you pick it out of three cards—that's very +few—three—only three cards; if you pick out <i>biribi</i>, why, Jean-Pierre +is certainly in the hole. Come, messieurs, make your bets! I pay cash, +my pockets are well lined! there's plenty of the <i>quibus</i>!<a name="vol_4_page_020" id="vol_4_page_020"></a> it rests +with you whether it passes from my pockets into yours."</p> + +<p>The gambler concluded his discourse by slapping the pocket which +contained his money; and the workingman, bewildered by that torrent of +words poured forth without pausing to take breath, made up his mind to +try his luck; he followed with his eyes the three cards which +Jean-Pierre moved about on the table, from right to left and left to +right, with a rapidity which made the eyes ache; then, believing that he +was sure of his card, he placed upon it all the money he had received +for his week's wages, which was all that his family had to live upon.</p> + +<p>"Will you take all that at once?" he cried excitedly.</p> + +<p>"Why not, monsieur? Jean-Pierre never weakens; he takes whatever you +choose—your clothes or your handkerchiefs, if you haven't any money! +Jean-Pierre will do anything to please you."</p> + +<p>"Let her go, then; that one's <i>biribi</i>! Turn it over."</p> + +<p>The gambler turned the card—the workman had lost; he was crestfallen +and speechless with dismay, and the peasant, who also had been stripped, +laughed stupidly and said:</p> + +<p>"He ain't any smarter than I am, he ain't."</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, spurred on by Jean Ficelle, who claimed to be certain that he +could tell him how to win, Sans-Cravate was about to give way to the +temptation to try his hand at <i>biribi</i>, when a confederate ran up; he +had sighted a police officer on the horizon. In an instant, the games +were folded up and carried off by the Jean-Pierres, who ran as fast as +their legs would carry them; while their dupes remained behind, feeling +in their empty pockets, and trying to decide—one of them, whether he +should return to his village without the proceeds of the<a name="vol_4_page_021" id="vol_4_page_021"></a> sale of his +produce; the other, whether he dared face his children, who would ask +him for money with which to buy bread.</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate and Jean Ficelle walked away.</p> + +<p>"We arrived too late," said the latter; "it's too bad! I have an idea +that we would have broken the bank, and then what a spree we'd have had! +we wouldn't have worked for a week!"</p> + +<p>"For my part, I am glad I didn't play," said Sans-Cravate; "the money +goes too fast that way; and then, too, gambling's a miserable business!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! <i>ouiche!</i> as if a man mustn't have some fun out of life! weren't we +born to enjoy ourselves? Only sneaks, like Paul, talk that way. For my +part, I claim that gambling's the spice of life; look you, I'll give you +a comparison——"</p> + +<p>"Pshaw! there's a wine shop yonder; I like that better than your +<i>biribi</i>."</p> + +<p>As the two friends were about to enter the wine shop, a man behind them +hailed them:</p> + +<p>"So you're too proud to speak to a friend, eh?"</p> + +<p>They both turned, and Jean Ficelle uttered a joyful exclamation.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's Laboussole!" he said; "old Laboussole! Well, this is a +surprise!"</p> + +<p>It was, in fact, Monsieur Laboussole who stood before them; but his +aspect was a little less shabby than formerly: he wore a frock-coat of +chestnut-colored beaver, abnormally full, and so long that he almost +walked on it; it was plain that the garment was not made for him, but +that did not prevent him from carrying it with a swagger, and looking +down at himself often with a complacent expression, as if admiring his +coat. His hat was the<a name="vol_4_page_022" id="vol_4_page_022"></a> same one; but instead of the strip of bed ticking +for a cravat, Monsieur Laboussole wore a black stock, which was not +absolutely new, but nevertheless imparted to its wearer a sort of +bellicose aspect. Add a pair of moustaches which were as yet in their +infancy, and which persisted in growing black on one side and gray on +the other, and you can form an idea of Laboussole as he accosted the two +messengers.</p> + +<p>"Well, well! is it really you, old fellow?" continued Jean Ficelle, +wringing Laboussole's hand. "It's a long time since I saw you—almost +three months and a half."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Sans-Cravate, who seemed less delighted than his comrade by +the meeting; "not since the day we drank together on Rue Saint-Lazare, +and monsieur was arrested."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! to be sure—I remember," said Laboussole, good-humoredly. "You +were present at the time of my arrest, weren't you? A blunder, my boys, +an unlucky blunder, and nothing else! They mistook me for another man; +and after keeping me in prison two months, they let me go in a hurry. +They went so far as to make apologies—which I accepted—but it was +almighty unpleasant, all the same. I was tempted to go to law, to make a +claim for damages and interest; but everybody said to me: 'We've never +had a doubt of your innocence; society has always done you justice, and +that ought to satisfy you.'"</p> + +<p>"<i>Pardi!</i> I never believed you were guilty, and I've said so more than +once to Sans-Cravate.—Ain't that so, Sans-Cravate? haven't I told you +they did wrong to arrest Laboussole, because he was as white as my +shirt?"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate nodded his head; whereupon Laboussole seized his hand and +shook it, saying:<a name="vol_4_page_023" id="vol_4_page_023"></a></p> + +<p>"Your good opinion is very pleasant to me, my boys. Yes, I am quite as +white as Jean Ficelle's shirt—perhaps a little whiter, even;—but I +believe you were going into the wine shop; don't let me keep you."</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, you're coming in to have a drink with us. Who ever +heard of friends meeting without wetting their whistles?"</p> + +<p>"With pleasure, my friends; let's go in; I was just thinking that I felt +the need of moistening my lips."</p> + +<p>The three men entered the wine shop. Jean Ficelle asked for a small +private room, and they were shown into one where there were two tables, +both unoccupied. Wine was brought, and the glasses were filled and +emptied several times. Monsieur Laboussole seemed overjoyed to have met +the two messengers; Jean Ficelle manifested equal satisfaction; and +Sans-Cravate himself, after drinking three or four glasses of wine, +became very good-humored.</p> + +<p>"I say, old fellow," said Jean Ficelle, scrutinizing Laboussole, "seems +to me, business must have been pretty good with you since we met. On my +word, you're rigged out like a landholder of Ile Saint-Louis! <i>Bigre!</i> +what style!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Laboussole, drawing himself up in his beaver coat. "I'm +in a very pretty line of business now. I have a position in an +enterprise that is just being started; I have an idea that I'm going to +make my fortune."</p> + +<p>"The devil! there's nothing cheap about you!"</p> + +<p>"What sort of a business is it?" asked Sans-Cravate.</p> + +<p>"It's something new and ingenious, my friends; imagine, if you please, +that a party of capitalists have conceived the idea of forming a company +to insure against fleas and all insects that devour mankind; for, as +you<a name="vol_4_page_024" id="vol_4_page_024"></a> probably know, mankind is being decimated by insects, and, if we +don't look out, the world will come to an end that way. Now, then, the +company has a capital stock of a million. With a million francs, you +see, it would beat the devil if they couldn't wipe out all the fleas in +Europe. It's a magnificent chance; the shares are going up, up at a +frightful rate!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I say! that's a funny kind of insurance!"</p> + +<p>"Messieurs, everything is insured nowadays: life, fortune, women—yes, +messieurs, a company's being formed to guarantee the fidelity of your +wives and mistresses! There won't be any more cuckolds, messieurs. Think +what a vast enterprise! and what an age—that will have seen it! But +they haven't succeeded yet in raising money enough to start the thing; +they need a lot of money, so it seems. Speaking of mistresses, what's +become of your sweetheart Bastringuette? I don't see her with you, my +dear Sans-Cravate; has she got the smallpox?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I haven't seen anything of her for a long time," replied +Sans-Cravate, with a frown; "nor thought of her, either."</p> + +<p>"Oho! did she do—what I mentioned just now?"</p> + +<p>"Apparently."</p> + +<p>"Come, come! let's not talk about Bastringuette," cried Jean Ficelle. +"You see, Laboussole, that it puts my comrade out of sorts."</p> + +<p>"Oh! excuse me, my boys, excuse me! I was thoughtless; it was my +friendship for you that misled me. Let's have a drink!"</p> + +<p>"What's your position in the flea business, eh?"</p> + +<p>"A very fine one—I am an inspector. We send clerks ahead to attend to +destroying the insects; then I arrive at the house of the insured, I +inspect the premises, I search<a name="vol_4_page_025" id="vol_4_page_025"></a> everywhere; and after my visit, I defy +you to find anything there at all."</p> + +<p>"Are you required to have a moustache in your position, that you let +yours grow?"</p> + +<p>"It isn't absolutely required, but in all the best places moustaches are +worn, and I felt that I owed that to myself. Your health, my bucks! To +my pleasure at being in the bosom of my friends once more!"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Laboussole's tone was becoming affectingly sentimental. They +drank, and touched glasses; the bottles rapidly succeeded one another; +their brains began to get heated, especially Sans-Cravate's, which took +fire very easily. Ere long, Jean Ficelle called for a pack of cards.</p> + +<p>"I'll play you a game of piquet, Laboussole," he cried; "piquet, the +honest man's game—just for fun, to pass the time, and to see if you +know how to play it."</p> + +<p>"I play like an oyster," rejoined Laboussole; "but still I'll play +whatever you say. Because I always assert that luck may come my way. +Let's have a drink!"</p> + +<p>The waiter brought the cards. Jean Ficelle took them and sat down +opposite Laboussole.</p> + +<p>"Sans-Cravate don't play," he said; "he don't like cards."</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't I play, eh?" cried Sans-Cravate, with a violent blow on +the table. "Piquet! why, that's my favorite game; I'm very strong at +it."</p> + +<p>"Well, you shall play after a while," replied Jean Ficelle, winking at +his vis-à-vis. "Let me give the inspector of fleas a beating first."</p> + +<p>The game began; the players announced that they were playing for two +francs the game, but no money was put up. Laboussole lost three games in +succession; whereupon Jean Ficelle rose, with a laugh, and said:<a name="vol_4_page_026" id="vol_4_page_026"></a></p> + +<p>"You certainly ain't on your game, old man. I've got six francs to eat +up; that's not bad, and I don't want you to ruin yourself treating us."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate took Jean Ficelle's place, after asking Laboussole:</p> + +<p>"Have you had enough?"</p> + +<p>"I! nonsense! do I ever cry <i>baby</i>? I'm always on deck when a friend +proposes a game. Besides, as I said just now, luck may come my way; +she's a female, so she ought to change often. What are we playing for?"</p> + +<p>"Whatever you say."</p> + +<p>"A thirty-sou piece——"</p> + +<p>"The devil! that's rather high!"</p> + +<p>"We must make the game interesting."</p> + +<p>"All right; thirty sous it is."</p> + +<p>The game began; Jean Ficelle took his stand behind Sans-Cravate. +Monsieur Laboussole frequently looked up into the air, as if to invoke +Fortune and implore her to smile upon him; but his eyes always met Jean +Ficelle's, who signalled to him with his fingers.</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate lost the first game; and Monsieur Laboussole cried, with +his most affable air:</p> + +<p>"You see, my boys, luck may turn any time; that's what I rely on."</p> + +<p>"My revenge!" cried Sans-Cravate.</p> + +<p>"Always, my boy! always at your service; a well-bred card player never +refuses a revenge, under penalty of being called a <i>carotteur</i>; and I've +never been called that. But let's have some wine first and drink a +bumper! Cards make me horribly thirsty."</p> + +<p>Jean Ficelle undertook to fill the glasses. Sans-Cravate lost the second +game, and demanded another, which he also lost; but Laboussole did not +cease to exclaim:<a name="vol_4_page_027" id="vol_4_page_027"></a></p> + +<p>"You play much better than I do; I can't imagine how I succeed in +beating you!"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate continued to demand his revenge, which Laboussole was +always eager to accord; while Jean Ficelle took care that the glasses +should be filled as soon as they were empty. The wine and the game soon +bewildered Sans-Cravate to the point that he hardly knew what he was +doing; his adversary, on the other hand, retained his sang-froid, and +combined with it all his social talents. It was not long before +Sans-Cravate found that he had lost all the money he had with him; he +had not enough left to pay for the wine they had drunk, a part of which +was chargeable to him.</p> + +<p>"I'll pay for you, and you may owe it to me," said Jean Ficelle. "I am +not capable of leaving a friend in a hole."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate was astounded to find himself without a sou, for he had +thirty francs in the morning. He felt in all his pockets, and cried:</p> + +<p>"How's this? I have lost all my money! I want to keep on playing and +make myself good! I'll play on credit."</p> + +<p>But Laboussole moved his chair away from the table and rose, saying:</p> + +<p>"I'd like nothing better than to give you your revenge, my boy, but this +is the time of day when I have to attend to my duties. I have three +houses to inspect to-day; and if a sign of an insect should be found in +one of them to-morrow, I should lose my job. A job worth three thousand +francs a year, with lodging, candles, and perquisites, don't grow on +every bush. So I am obliged to leave you, my bucks; but we will meet +again soon; I'll look you up at your place of business on the street<a name="vol_4_page_028" id="vol_4_page_028"></a> +corner, and I'll give our worthy friend Sans-Cravate all the revenge he +wants. Au revoir, my friends!"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Laboussole shook hands with each of the messengers. When he +took Jean Ficelle's hand, he left in it half of the money he had won +from his comrade,—probably in accordance with a previous +understanding,—then left the room, saying:</p> + +<p>"The next time I see you, friends, I'll give you a prospectus of our +enterprise, so that you can see if you wouldn't like to take some +shares. You can buy three shares for seven francs ten sous. Dividends of +twenty per cent are guaranteed, and you get in addition portraits of the +inspectors, which you can have framed, if you choose."</p> + +<p>When Laboussole had gone, Jean Ficelle paid the bill and took +Sans-Cravate away. He made no resistance; he was dazed by the wine he +had drunk, and in a savage humor because he had lost his money, and, +more than all, because he had gambled; for he knew in his heart that he +was not acting the part of an honest man, and that Jean Ficelle's +company was a constant incitement to evil. When a man's conscience +speaks to him in that way, when he listens to its reproaches, and, while +trying to drown its voice, is none the less dissatisfied with himself, +there is still room for hope that he will return to the path of +respectability.</p> + +<p>The messengers had been walking together for some time, at a somewhat +uncertain pace. Jean Ficelle, who loved to talk grandiloquently, and who +credited himself with the art of hoodwinking his hearers, was presenting +his comrade with a comparison to prove that the gambler who has lost all +his money is much nearer to winning than he whose pockets are full. +Sans-Cravate listened,<a name="vol_4_page_029" id="vol_4_page_029"></a> without paying the slightest attention; his face +was flushed, his expression alert and quarrelsome; he did not step aside +for anyone, and he had more than once roughly jostled persons who passed +him, and had nearly thrown them down.</p> + +<p>"Look out what you're doing," said Jean Ficelle; "you're running into +everybody! You'll get yourself into trouble!"</p> + +<p>"Why don't they get out of the way? So much the worse for them! and if +anyone isn't satisfied, just let him say so."</p> + +<p>Suddenly, as they were walking along the canal, Sans-Cravate spied a man +talking earnestly with a woman on a street corner. To utter an +exclamation, come to a halt, and grasp his companion's arm so hard that +he made him cry out, was a matter of an instant with Sans-Cravate.</p> + +<p>"What in God's name's the matter?" demanded Jean Ficelle, almost +terrified.</p> + +<p>"It's him—and her! Yes, there they are together. Look—over there, at +the corner of that street!"</p> + +<p>Jean Ficelle looked; he recognized Paul talking to Bastringuette, with +great earnestness and with an air of mystery.</p> + +<p>"<i>Pardi!</i>" he exclaimed; "the turtle-doves have evidently met here by +appointment—a long way from our neighborhood, so as not to be seen. How +this fits in—when you was just saying that you'd never seen Paul with +your fly-away! You see 'em now."</p> + +<p>"Yes—and I still doubted! Ah! the villain! but he's got to pay me for +his treachery!"</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do? Come, Sans-Cravate, no knock-down fight. Just +give him a clip—he well<a name="vol_4_page_030" id="vol_4_page_030"></a> deserves it—and then, off we go! for, +although there ain't many people passing, we must look out for loafers."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate paid no heed to what his comrade said, but strode rapidly +toward Paul; Bastringuette had left him, and he was walking away by the +canal, when Sans-Cravate planted himself in front of him.</p> + +<p>"You don't go any farther," he cried.</p> + +<p>"Is it you, Sans-Cravate?" said Paul, looking up at him. "Great heaven! +what's the matter? You look like a madman!"</p> + +<p>"The matter is that you're a coward, a sneak!"</p> + +<p>"Sans-Cravate!"</p> + +<p>"Who was that with you a minute ago?"</p> + +<p>"Bastringuette."</p> + +<p>"And she ran off when she saw me, because she was afraid I'd give her a +beating; but I don't beat women, I don't; I take my revenge on men—and +you've got to fight with me!"</p> + +<p>"Sans-Cravate, you are entirely mistaken—I give you my word of honor. I +am not Bastringuette's lover; I have never mentioned the word <i>love</i> to +her; besides, you know perfectly well that I am in love with another +woman."</p> + +<p>"That proves that you love two at once, that's all! Oh! you can't fool +me any more with your wheedling ways. You're a blackguard, a traitor—I +know you now. Come, coats off!"</p> + +<p>"Sans-Cravate, you are not in your right mind at this moment. When you +are not so excited, you will listen to me."</p> + +<p>"No, no, not a word! I've swallowed your insults and been called a +coward long enough. It's time to put an end to it."<a name="vol_4_page_031" id="vol_4_page_031"></a></p> + +<p>"But you are mistaken; listen to me."</p> + +<p>"I tell you, I won't; we must fight."</p> + +<p>"I have told you before that I will not fight with you."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll find a way to force you to."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," said Jean Ficelle, from behind Sans-Cravate; "when a man +entices a friend's mistress away from him, he can't refuse to give him +satisfaction."</p> + +<p>Paul cast a contemptuous glance at Jean Ficelle, and was about to answer +him, when Sans-Cravate rushed at him like a madman and shook his fist in +his face, crying:</p> + +<p>"Will you fight?"</p> + +<p>"No, for you are drunk! I am bound to overlook your foolish behavior."</p> + +<p>"Oh! that's it, is it?"</p> + +<p>And Sans-Cravate, utterly beside himself with jealousy, jumped at Paul, +and, seizing him around the waist, threw him against the wall of the +canal. The young man tried to save himself; but he stumbled and +staggered, and, as he fell, his head struck a large paving stone which, +unluckily, had been left lying there; its sharp edge made a deep wound, +and the blood soon formed a pool about the wounded man.</p> + +<p>Paul did not utter a sound; but Sans-Cravate, when he saw the blood +flowing from the wound, stood as if turned to stone, horror-stricken, +and his face became ghastly pale. Jean-Ficelle seized his arm.</p> + +<p>"Let's be off!" he said; "let's be off! you've given him his dose, and +that's all that was needed; now let's cut sticks."</p> + +<p>"But he is wounded, he's bleeding," muttered Sans-Cravate.</p> + +<p>"Bah! just a scratch—a trifle; that's none of our business."<a name="vol_4_page_032" id="vol_4_page_032"></a></p> + +<p>"No, I won't leave him so; the least I can do is to carry him to that +shop yonder, to have his wound dressed."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate stooped over Paul, who, in addition to the wound on his +head, had a badly bruised arm. To take off his jacket and turn back his +shirt sleeve, to see whether the arm was seriously injured, was the work +of an instant; as he bared Paul's forearm, he saw a small, perfectly +distinct, blue cross. He was about to carry the wounded man to a shop +near by, when Bastringuette came running up; seeing Paul wounded and +bathed in blood, she cried:</p> + +<p>"What an outrage! they have murdered him! poor boy! poor Paul!"</p> + +<p>And the tall girl, kneeling on the ground, raised the messenger's head +and examined it. At that moment, several persons, attracted by her +outcry, drew near the wounded man. Once more Jean Ficelle pulled +Sans-Cravate by the arm, saying:</p> + +<p>"Well! they don't need you here, you see; he'll be well taken care of."</p> + +<p>"That's true; you are right—as she is with him, there's nothing for me +to do here. Let's go!"</p> + +<p>As he spoke, Sans-Cravate hurried away with his comrade, not once +turning his head to look back, as if he were afraid to meet +Bastringuette's eye.<a name="vol_4_page_033" id="vol_4_page_033"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="XXV" id="XXV"></a>XXV<br /><br /> +<small>AN EVENING PARTY.—A SOUVENIR</small></h2> + +<p>There was a brilliant reception at the house of a wealthy foreigner, who +had taken up his abode in Paris because he had concluded that the people +of that city have learned most thoroughly the secret of enjoying +themselves, of varying their amusements, and of doing themselves credit +with their wealth. He was absolutely right; and as the Parisians are +very fond of people who give them dinners, concerts, balls, routs—in a +word, festivities of every sort, the residence of the wealthy foreigner +became the usual rendezvous of a large number of people, and his +receptions were always crowded.</p> + +<p>It may be that those persons who insist upon knowing in whose company +they are, who are afraid to sit at a card table with a gentleman or lady +whose social position is not definitely fixed, might have found much to +criticise in the society which was wont to assemble in the salons of +Monsieur Grazcernitz (such was the wealthy foreigner's name); but as the +number of those who like to be entertained is very considerable, he was +always certain of having an abundance of guests.</p> + +<p>To obtain an invitation from Monsieur Grazcernitz, it was sufficient to +have cut a figure in society, to have made a name for one's self in +letters, art, or commerce, to be able to sing an aria or a ballad with +taste and expression, to tell an anecdote interestingly, or even to make +a pun. To the ladies, the wealthy foreigner was even more<a name="vol_4_page_034" id="vol_4_page_034"></a> indulgent; a +pretty woman, a woman of fashion, a blue-stocking, an unknown or +unappreciated artist, were always welcome in his salon. One often met +there people whom one never met on the fashionable promenades or at the +theatre; just as we may meet at a railroad station a friend whom we have +not seen for several years, a mistress who, we supposed, had gone to +Russia, an old artist whom we believed to be dead—in a word, someone +whom we should vainly seek in the streets of Paris.</p> + +<p>Now, Monsieur Grazcernitz's salons were frequently honored by the +presence of Monsieur and Madame Plays. Monsieur went thither as his +wife's escort, and madame to display her charms and her dresses, and to +make conquests. It was at that house that she had made Albert +Vermoncey's acquaintance.</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer also was an habitué of the wealthy foreigner's salons. +It was at his receptions that she had been named the fair American.</p> + +<p>Balivan, the absent-minded painter, was also to be met with there, and +the jovial Mouillot, Dupétrain the magnetizer, the young man with the +white eyebrows, and Monsieur Célestin de Valnoir, who possessed the art +of insinuating himself everywhere.</p> + +<p>Tobie Pigeonnier had obtained an introduction to Monsieur Grazcernitz a +short time before the loss of his olive; he had been overjoyed to find +himself at a function where punch, ices, cake, and delicacies of all +sorts, were served in great profusion to the guests. Since the adventure +of the fetich, he had not dared to show his face in Monsieur +Grazcernitz's salon, and that was not one of the least of his +annoyances.</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer had just been announced. She entered the salon under the +escort of Monsieur Dupétrain,<a name="vol_4_page_035" id="vol_4_page_035"></a> who, by dint of telling her that he +possessed the power of magnetizing and putting to sleep anybody that she +chose, had succeeded in inducing her to receive him.</p> + +<p>The fair American was magnificently dressed, and resplendent with +diamonds and jewelry; the beauty of her face and the splendor of her +costume attracted every eye, and a circle soon formed about her.</p> + +<p>"That Dupétrain's a lucky dog!" said a very ugly little man; "he is +Madame Baldimer's escort, she accepts his arm. How can anyone understand +such a whim? to select for her cavalier an ugly creature—with nothing +to recommend him—while so many good-looking young men, men of real +merit, are paying court to her!"</p> + +<p>"What does that prove?" rejoined a gentleman, laughing in the last +speaker's face. "You don't suppose Dupétrain is that woman's lover, do +you? on the contrary, she accepts his arm because he's of no consequence +at all. Besides, she has been courted by many other men, who have been +no more fortunate for having acted as her cavalier. That lovely creature +impresses me as being inclined to amuse herself at the expense of every +man who is attentive to her."</p> + +<p>"Do you think so? Haven't some of them fought duels for her?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I believe there has been a duel; but I don't know who the parties +were."</p> + +<p>The arrival of two new guests changed the subject of conversation. +Monsieur and Madame Plays entered the salon. The host went forward to +meet the superb and massive Herminie, saying:</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! madame, what a pleasure it is to see you! we have been +deprived of that pleasure so long! What<a name="vol_4_page_036" id="vol_4_page_036"></a> has become of you? For more +than two months you haven't been seen in society! I have asked about you +several times, and been told: 'Madame Plays has gone into retirement in +one of her country houses; she receives no one and sees no one; in fact, +she has turned hermit.'"</p> + +<p>Madame Plays affected a languorous air, as she replied:</p> + +<p>"It is true—I haven't been into society for a long while! Ah! I would +like never to return to it."</p> + +<p>"What! shun society at your age, madame, when you have been its +brightest ornament! Why, that is not lawful; it's a crime, it's +downright robbery!—Would you allow it, Monsieur Plays?"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Plays tried to imitate his wife's manner, as he said:</p> + +<p>"My wife took me with her to one of our estates; it was very dull; there +were only we two, and we had no visitors; for we didn't tell anybody +where we were going, we went off all of a sudden, as if we were ashamed +of it. But still, when something has happened to afflict one—you +understand—and my wife certainly had good cause for tears in——"</p> + +<p>Madame Plays pinched her husband's arm, and whispered:</p> + +<p>"Hush! that's enough; hush! Who asked you to say that?"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Plays held his peace, and pretended to have a paroxysm of +coughing as an excuse for not finishing his sentence. Monsieur +Grazcernitz took the fair Herminie's hand and led her to a seat on a +divan, with divers other ladies, with whom she soon entered into +conversation.<a name="vol_4_page_037" id="vol_4_page_037"></a></p> + +<p>But after a few seconds, the lady at the robust creature's right rose +and walked into another salon; in a short time, the lady at her left +likewise rose and vanished, and the fair Herminie was left alone on the +divan. Thereupon several young men approached her and favored her with +an assortment of the insipid, commonplace flatteries of which such a +prodigious supply is ordinarily consumed in fashionable salons.</p> + +<p>A young man who had talked with Madame Plays a few minutes left her +abruptly, and observed to one of his friends:</p> + +<p>"That's a most extraordinary thing; I can't understand it."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"You see that lady over there, with whom I was talking just now?"</p> + +<p>"Madame Plays?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Well, my dear fellow, I can't imagine what kind of perfume she has +about her, but it's absolutely insufferable."</p> + +<p>"The deuce you say!"</p> + +<p>"It's like the smell of stale tobacco; it's perfectly sickening."</p> + +<p>"Impossible."</p> + +<p>"Look! there's Alfred leaving her now; let's see what he says.—Alfred!"</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"You were just talking with Madame Plays; did you smell anything?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! parbleu! that was what made me leave her. I like to smoke a cigar, +but a lady who smells like a guardhouse isn't at all agreeable. She must +chew! that's the only explanation."<a name="vol_4_page_038" id="vol_4_page_038"></a></p> + +<p>"She probably adopted the habit in her retirement."</p> + +<p>"We must go and ask her husband."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! I should never dare."</p> + +<p>"It's evident that you don't know Monsieur Plays! I'll bet you that I +dare. Follow me, without making it apparent, and you'll see."</p> + +<p>The young man who had spoken last walked up to Monsieur Plays, whom he +discovered in an adjoining room, standing near a whist table and +watching the game with close attention.</p> + +<p>"Well, Monsieur Plays," said the young man, bowing to him, "you seem to +be much engrossed by the game?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I am watching it rather closely."</p> + +<p>"Are you studying the fine points of whist?"</p> + +<p>"I study everything."</p> + +<p>"You must be a fine whist player."</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, I don't understand the game yet; for ten years, I've +been watching it; but I hope that, by dint of watching, I shall learn it +finally. My wife absolutely insists on my learning it; that is why I +never lose a chance to look on."</p> + +<p>"Speaking of madame, Monsieur Plays, she seems to have become a +<i>lionne</i><a name="FNanchor_O_15" id="FNanchor_O_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_O_15" class="fnanchor">[O]</a> in her retirement."</p> + +<p>"A <i>lionne</i>! my wife! Why, no; far from it, I assure you! on the +contrary, her disposition has become more tractable; she is very mild +and gentle now."</p> + +<p>"You don't understand me, Monsieur Plays; by <i>lionne</i>, we men of fashion +mean an eccentric woman, one who is very far advanced in the modern +ideas of progress."</p> + +<p>"What! you think my wife is advanced?"</p> + +<p>"And, I may say, a woman who smokes. Isn't it a fact that Madame Plays +indulges in that pleasure now?"<a name="vol_4_page_039" id="vol_4_page_039"></a></p> + +<p>"My wife smoke! never! Oh! you are entirely mistaken. I can guess why +you ask me that; you noticed that she smelt of tobacco, didn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Faith! yes, Monsieur Plays, I did notice it; and, if I must tell you, I +am not the only person in this company who has noticed it."</p> + +<p>"I believe you; oh! I can readily believe you, as I have noticed it +myself, and this evening isn't the first time that my wife has exhaled +an odor of smoking tobacco. Ever since she took me off to our country +place, where we lived like bears, I have noticed that same odor; and I +have said to myself more than once: 'My wife smells of tobacco, and it +seems to me that the smell is getting stronger and stronger.'"</p> + +<p>"And you haven't asked madame what caused it?"</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon; one day I ventured to say to her: 'Herminie, are you +in the habit of smoking in private? if you are, don't mind me, I beg +you; smoke as much as you please!'"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Well, my wife considered my question very impertinent, and she punished +me—that is to say, she ordered me not to—— But, excuse me, this seems +to be a very interesting hand; a gentleman has just made the <i>odd</i>; I +must try to understand."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Plays turned his attention to the whist table once more, and +the young man walked away with his friends, having obtained no new +light.</p> + +<p>While this conversation was taking place, Madame Baldimer, noticing +Madame Plays alone on a divan, went and seated herself by her side. The +two ladies were slightly acquainted, having met rather often at Count +Dahlborne's receptions, and Herminie had no suspicion that it was the<a name="vol_4_page_040" id="vol_4_page_040"></a> +fair American for whom the fickle Albert had purchased a shawl like +hers.</p> + +<p>"What has become of you lately, madame? it seems an age since we saw you +at any sort of festivity; and everybody has been lamenting it."</p> + +<p>The tone in which Madame Baldimer spoke might, to some people, have +seemed slightly satirical; but Madame Plays saw only amiability therein, +and she replied, with a long-drawn sigh:</p> + +<p>"I thank you, madame; it is too kind of you to believe that people think +of me; but I have been in close retirement, as was very natural after +the painful event of which I was the cause, and for which I reproach +myself so bitterly! Ah! I dared not show my face!"</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer, after putting her smelling-bottle to her nose, with a +muttered: "This is very strange; it smells like a tobacco factory here!" +leaned toward Madame Plays, and said:</p> + +<p>"You say that you were the cause of a painful occurrence?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure; can it be that you have not heard of it?"</p> + +<p>"I have not the faintest idea what you mean."</p> + +<p>"I supposed that it must have made a great sensation in society, and +that is why I ran away and dared not come back! And you have not heard +of the duel?"</p> + +<p>"A duel!"</p> + +<p>"Certainly; a duel about me—that is to say—I had no idea it would go +so far. Mon Dieu! there are some women who like nothing better than to +have men fight for them; but my remorse is terrible!"</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer bestowed a piercing glance on Herminie, as if she wished +to fathom her thoughts.<a name="vol_4_page_041" id="vol_4_page_041"></a></p> + +<p>"Who was the man who fought for you, madame?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Albert Vermoncey and Monsieur Tobie Pigeonnier, two hot-headed +youths who adored me. Oh! what a misfortune it is to arouse such +passions! That young Albert had deceived me, it is true; but that was no +reason—— Oh! how wrong it was of me to say that I wished to be +avenged!"</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Albert fought a duel for you, you say? When?"</p> + +<p>"The day before I left Paris for the country—about two months and a +half ago."</p> + +<p>"Well! what was the result of this duel?"</p> + +<p>"Horrible, madame, shocking! Poor Albert was killed by that little +Tobie—killed with a sword-thrust! That is the calamity of which I am +the cause, and for which I shall never forgive myself!"</p> + +<p>Madame Plays covered her eyes with her handkerchief; but, instead of the +emotional outburst which she anticipated from Madame Baldimer, she was +surprised to hear that lady say, with a sarcastic smile:</p> + +<p>"Abate your remorse, madame; do not be so heart-broken, I entreat you; +for the men who get themselves killed for your sake are still in +remarkably good health."</p> + +<p>"What! what do you mean by that, madame?" cried the fair Herminie, +restoring her handkerchief to her pocket.</p> + +<p>"I mean that young Albert Vermoncey is not dead."</p> + +<p>"Not dead! Albert not dead! Oh! that is impossible, madame; it was his +adversary in person who came and told me the result of their ill-omened +meeting! He did not leave Albert until he was certain that he had ceased +to breathe; and, as a token of his victory, he took a cigar<a name="vol_4_page_042" id="vol_4_page_042"></a> from his +victim and brought it to me, and I have worn it here, on my heart, ever +since. It has never left me for an instant!"</p> + +<p>Madame Baldimer began to laugh more loudly than ever, until she could +hardly speak.</p> + +<p>"Ah! so you carry a cigar in your bosom," she faltered, at last. "I am +not surprised at this odor of tobacco, which I could not understand. Ha! +ha! ha! this is most amusing! it was a delicious joke!"</p> + +<p>Madame Plays began to take offence at the fair American's hilarity over +her adventure.</p> + +<p>"Really, madame," she muttered angrily, "I did not suppose that you were +so hard-hearted! to laugh because a young man lost his life for me—or, +at least, at the hands of one of my chevaliers! I cannot see what there +is to laugh at in that."</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! madame, how many times must I tell you that you are mistaken? +that somebody has made a fool of you? Monsieur Albert Vermoncey did +fight a duel, it is true, at about the time you mention; but he fought +with Count Dahlborne, and I think that I can assure you that you had +nothing whatever to do with their quarrel. Monsieur Albert was the +victor in that duel; the count was slightly wounded. As for young +Vermoncey, he left Paris immediately after the affair; he travelled in +Normandie, in Belgium, and in Auvergne; and he returned to Paris +yesterday with a girl whom he has abducted and brought back with him +without his father's knowledge. You see that I am well posted, madame."</p> + +<p>Madame Plays was stupefied, and could not find a word to say; when she +recovered herself, her first act was to take a piece of a cigar from her +bosom and throw<a name="vol_4_page_043" id="vol_4_page_043"></a> it, with an angry gesture, under the divan on which she +was seated. When she was able to speak, she faltered:</p> + +<p>"What, madame! can it be possible? Monsieur Albert is not dead? that +monster, that perfidious wretch, still lives? You are sure of it?"</p> + +<p>As Madame Baldimer was about to reply, a newly arrived guest entered the +salon in which the two ladies were. It was Monsieur Vermoncey, Albert's +father, who had never before appeared at Monsieur Grazcernitz's +reunions. Having frequently met in society the wealthy stranger, who +always urged him to come to his receptions, he had considered that +courtesy required that he should attend at least one of them; and +although he had long since ceased to find any pleasure at such +functions, he had decided to pay his respects to Monsieur Grazcernitz on +the evening in question.</p> + +<p>At sight of Albert's father, Madame Baldimer's features underwent a +transformation: her lips closed tightly, her eyebrows drew together, her +forehead became clouded, and her eyes, alight with an unaccustomed +gleam, seemed to flash fire.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey passed through the salon into another room; Madame +Baldimer followed him with her eyes, and, when she could no longer see +him, unable to control her feelings, she sprang to her feet, without +answering the soft-hearted Herminie, who had asked her another question +about Albert, and hastened into the room which she had seen Monsieur +Vermoncey enter. He had taken a seat beside the master of the house; +Madame Baldimer seated herself in front of them, and, while apparently +listening to the compliments of Monsieur Dupétrain, who joined her at +once, her eyes were constantly fixed on the two gentlemen facing her.<a name="vol_4_page_044" id="vol_4_page_044"></a></p> + +<p>Monsieur Grazcernitz passed in review, for Monsieur Vermoncey's benefit, +the company assembled in his salons; and as a householder delights to +exhibit to you every corner of his house, even to the darkest corridor +and the smallest closet, that he may boast of all its comforts and +conveniences, so the wealthy foreigner, who was exceedingly proud of his +brilliant and crowded reception, took pleasure in singing the praises of +his guests, and did not mention a single name without adding a word or +two to give it prestige.</p> + +<p>"Look," he said, pointing to a little old man with an intelligent and +satirical face, whose costume denoted a country gentleman; "that old +gentleman at your right is a rich landholder of Bretagne; he passes ten +months of the year on his estates, and when he comes to Paris retains +his country costume. He has two hundred thousand francs a year, and he +cares little what other people say. They wanted to make him mayor, +sub-prefect, prefect even—but he refused everything. He's a philosopher +after the pattern of Seneca, who inculcated contempt of wealth by +drinking Falernian in a gold cup. That gentleman with the decorations, +who is speaking to him at this moment, is the chief of a department, +captain in the National Guard, and member of the Council of Discipline; +he is said to be a very influential man. He doesn't despise offices, not +he; he has three now, and is a candidate for two others. This lady here +at our left is a charming person; she sings like an angel, when she is +well accompanied, but she declares that no one is ever able to accompany +her. The little brunette by her side is not pretty, but she's a +blue-stocking! she writes poetry, novels, plays, and works for the +newspapers; she's the editor of a sheet which is distributed for +nothing, and has<a name="vol_4_page_045" id="vol_4_page_045"></a> an enormous list of subscribers. Oh! that man over +yonder is one of the leaders of fashion in Paris. See what a superb +figure he has! people fight with one another over having clothes made by +his tailor. He once shut himself up for a whole week in his room, trying +to determine whether he would wear round or pointed waistcoats. That +good-looking youth by the piano is an excellent composer, who will write +an opera as soon as he has a suitable libretto. That tall, thin +gentleman standing by the fireplace is a talented amateur on the +cornet-à-piston; he was to bring his brother, who affects the trombone; +they play duets together which are said to be very interesting. And do +you see the little, light-haired man in the next room, with a turned-up +nose and an impertinent air? He's a ballad singer of the first rank; he +imitates Levassor, Achard, and everybody else, with much skill; so that +there's a constant rivalry to secure him; he's all the rage at parties. +That stout lady with whom he is talking has a magnificent contralto +voice; unfortunately, she is never willing to sing."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey listened with a distraught air to his host's +comments; his eyes had met those of the fair American, and, as he looked +at her, he was conscious of a sentiment which he could not understand; +was it simply admiration of Madame Baldimer's beauty? was it curiosity? +did the sight of her awaken bitter memories in his heart? He was unable +to answer any of these questions; but as Monsieur Grazcernitz started +upon a grandiloquent eulogium of a small boy of nine, who, it was said, +already played the violin like Paganini, Monsieur Vermoncey interrupted +him.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, Monsieur Grazcernitz; but who is the lady sitting +opposite us and looking at us at this moment?"<a name="vol_4_page_046" id="vol_4_page_046"></a></p> + +<p>"That lady," replied the host, motioning to the boy to come to him, +"why, she's a very fine woman, indeed: tall and beautiful and well +built.—He plays on the fourth string variations on the air of <i>Le Roi +d'Yvetot</i> which are simply fascinating, they say."</p> + +<p>"Pardon my inquisitiveness, but there is an expression on that lady's +features which seems familiar to me."</p> + +<p>"She's a very fashionable woman! All the men are in love with her!—He +can do something wonderful, too, on the treble string—also after the +style of Paganini."</p> + +<p>"But her name, if you please?"</p> + +<p>"Little Adolphe Kromiousky; he's a Pole."</p> + +<p>"I ask you the name of the lady sitting opposite us."</p> + +<p>"Oh! that is Madame Baldimer, commonly known in society as the fair +American."</p> + +<p>"Madame Baldimer! Can it be that—— Ah! I am not surprised that the +sight of her caused me an emotion that I could not understand! So that +is Madame Baldimer!"</p> + +<p>"Do you know her?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! no, not I! But my son was very much in love with her; he fought a +duel for her."</p> + +<p>"That doesn't surprise me. As I tell you, she turns the heads of all the +men."</p> + +<p>"And it seems that she takes pleasure in causing her adorers to fight +among themselves. Ah! I no longer consider her beautiful; I can't bear +to look at her."</p> + +<p>"Was your son wounded?"</p> + +<p>"No, thank heaven! but he might have been killed, and that woman's +coquetry would have robbed me of my only remaining child."</p> + +<p>"Would you like me to present little Adolphe Kromiousky?"<a name="vol_4_page_047" id="vol_4_page_047"></a></p> + +<p>"Anything that will give you pleasure."</p> + +<p>And Monsieur Vermoncey rose and walked hastily into another room, in his +eagerness to shun the presence of Madame Baldimer. His host followed +him, calling after him:</p> + +<p>"Why, where are you going? young Kromiousky is in that room. He won't +play anything this evening; but he is studying a fine piece of +Paganini's, which he will play on a violin that belonged to Paganini."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey seated himself in a salon where people were singing +and playing the piano; he had been there but a short time, when he saw +that Madame Baldimer had again taken a seat facing him, and that her +eyes were almost always turned in his direction.</p> + +<p>"It's very strange," thought Monsieur Vermoncey; "it looks as if that +woman were following me! She looks at me in a most extraordinary way. I +wonder if she has been told that I am Albert's father; and if she thinks +that it was by my advice that he ceased to see her? Yes, that must be +the explanation of her keeping her eyes fixed on me. Does she aspire to +force me too to do homage to her charms? I propose to show her that she +is wasting her time and trouble."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey left the music room and went into that where the card +playing was in progress, which few ladies visited. There was a vacant +seat at a bouillotte table, and he took it, saying to himself:</p> + +<p>"That woman is not likely to follow me here."</p> + +<p>But he had not been playing five minutes, when the fair American +appeared, and seated herself in a chair which was close beside his.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey felt unaccountably disturbed; the woman's conduct +seemed to him so strange that he was<a name="vol_4_page_048" id="vol_4_page_048"></a> almost frightened. However, as he +was not obliged to look at her, he continued to play without turning in +her direction, courtesy not requiring him to speak to a lady whom he had +never seen before.</p> + +<p>But several young men, among them Dupétrain the magnetizer, soon joined +the fair American and began to converse with her.</p> + +<p>"How is this, madame? you, in the cardroom?"</p> + +<p>"Why not, monsieur? Are ladies forbidden to come here?"</p> + +<p>"Of course not; but the idea of watching a game of cards, when music +beckons to you, and the dance—for they have just begun to dance."</p> + +<p>"Well, messieurs, if I prefer cards to dancing, am I not at liberty to +do so?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! but that cannot be! A pretty woman prefer cards to dancing!"</p> + +<p>"We have heard you say that you detested cards."</p> + +<p>"Am I not entitled to change my mind? Ask Monsieur Dupétrain here, who +is gifted with second-sight; perhaps he can tell you what attracted me +to this salon."</p> + +<p>"I, fair lady? Ah! I would compel you to tell us, if you would let me +put you to sleep!"</p> + +<p>"Not at this moment; the place would be ill chosen, I should say. But +you can often render a lady a great service by putting her to sleep, +Monsieur Dupétrain. If I had known you earlier, I would have asked you +to draw the horoscope of a young girl—in whom I was very deeply +interested."</p> + +<p>"What happened to her? Was she pretty?"</p> + +<p>"Lovely!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! then it must be a love story."<a name="vol_4_page_049" id="vol_4_page_049"></a></p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! yes, messieurs; it is, as you say, a love story—a story of +love, and seduction; a very commonplace story to you. But we women are +always interested in such stories."</p> + +<p>"Pray tell us this girl's story, madame."</p> + +<p>"I assure you that it is not likely to interest anybody who did not know +the principal actors in it. She was a young seamstress, very poor, but +perfectly virtuous, until a young man, who was little richer than she, +paid court to her. The girl allowed herself to be seduced; her heart was +given, and she fell; for the young man had made the fairest promises, as +men have a way of doing when they seek to seduce us. The poor child +became a mother; and instead of working four times harder than before, +in order to provide her with the means to bring up the child, the +seducer sent it to join the unfortunate creatures who are brought up by +public charity and who do not know their parents. Oh! that arouses your +indignation, does it not, messieurs? When the poor girl asked to see her +child, to embrace it, she was put off by falsehoods. But she learned the +truth at last; and while she, with a breaking heart, prayed that her +son—for it was a son—might be restored to her, her seducer was busily +engaged in paying attentions to a young woman of large fortune. To make +a long story short, my poor girl died; and the gentleman married, became +very rich, and was highly esteemed in society.—You see, messieurs, that +my story is in no wise different from what is happening every day."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey had not lost a word of Madame Baldimer's narrative; +at the outset, he had turned as pale as death; his hands shook, and +great drops of perspiration stood on his forehead; he held his cards, +but did<a name="vol_4_page_050" id="vol_4_page_050"></a> not see them, and had no idea what he played. At last, one of +the gentlemen who were playing with him said to him:</p> + +<p>"You must be feeling ill. Pray leave the table, and go and get some +fresh air."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey did not know what reply he made; it seemed to him +that he had not the requisite strength to leave the room, for his knees +bent and his legs gave way under him. However, he made a mighty effort, +and attempted to leave the table; but in order to push his chair away, +he was obliged to disturb the lady who was seated so close to him.</p> + +<p>He turned toward her, stammering some unintelligible words. Madame +Baldimer had finished her story, and all her auditors had pronounced it +exceedingly interesting. The fair American fixed her piercing eyes on +Monsieur Vermoncey, and said:</p> + +<p>"And you, monsieur, what do you think of my story? Did it interest you +too?"</p> + +<p>Albert's father murmured something which no one could hear, and, having +succeeded in breaking out a path, he abruptly left the salons, still +followed by Madame Baldimer's eyes, for she seemed to enjoy his +confusion and pallor.</p> + +<p>While all this was taking place in the cardroom, Madame Plays, deserted +by Madame Baldimer, had risen and set out in search of her husband, who +had ventured to leave the whist table in order to watch the dancing. His +wife spied him at last, behind a quadrille, and, seizing his arm, led +him into a corner.</p> + +<p>"I have found you at last," she said; "it's very lucky!"</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, my dear love, for leaving the whist table," rejoined +Monsieur Plays, alarmed by his wife's agitated<a name="vol_4_page_051" id="vol_4_page_051"></a> manner; "but I assure +you that I am beginning to understand; one of the players said to +another: 'We have the <i>odd</i>!' from which I conclude that the <i>odd</i> is +like Pope Joan or the double six; so, you see, I understand whist."</p> + +<p>"Oh! monsieur, what do I care about whist! it's something much more +important that I have to talk to you about."</p> + +<p>"You look as if you were very warm—would you like an ice?"</p> + +<p>"Hush! and listen to me: Albert is not dead!"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean? that young man who was killed in a duel for you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Albert Vermoncey, for whose death I blamed myself, whose sad fate +I lamented. He is alive; he is in Paris."</p> + +<p>"Then he wasn't killed dead?"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! don't I tell you that he wasn't killed at all?"</p> + +<p>"So much the better! for he was a very pleasant fellow; and now you +won't suffer with remorse any more, or shed any more tears over his +premature end."</p> + +<p>"What do you say? So much the better! Why, you don't seem to understand +that I have been tricked, made a fool of, in the most indecent way! as +to Albert's not being dead—I am not sorry for that, although he behaved +very dishonorably to me! But why should that man come and tell me that +he had run his sword through him and killed him? Why bring me a cigar +which he said he had found on the body? And I had the kindness to weep +and lament and go into retirement for two months—seeing nobody but you, +and almost bored to death! and to carry in my bosom that cigar, which +was said to have been found on the dying Albert!"<a name="vol_4_page_052" id="vol_4_page_052"></a></p> + +<p>"Ah! you had a cigar about you! so that's the reason that you smelt like +a—trooper, and that someone said to me this evening: 'Your wife is a +<i>lionne</i>.'"</p> + +<p>"You see, monsieur, I have been played with in the most abominable way! +But this is not to be the end of it! I trust, monsieur, that you will +not allow people to amuse themselves at your wife's expense, and, +consequently, at your own; for to show disrespect to a wife is to show +disrespect to her husband, and I have been shamefully insulted."</p> + +<p>"But, my dear love, what do you expect me to do about it?"</p> + +<p>"What do I expect you to do! what a question! I expect you to challenge +the insolent villain who lied to me!"</p> + +<p>"What! you want to have that poor Albert killed again? You have only +just learned that he's alive, and——"</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur; I am not talking about Albert now; but of that little man +who dared to come and tell me that he had killed him in a duel. Do you +know Tobie Pigeonnier?"</p> + +<p>"Tobie Pigeon——"</p> + +<p>"You must have seen him here two or three times."</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, a little short fat man; I remember him very well. He's a very +good-looking fellow."</p> + +<p>"He's a little blackguard, who lies with imperturbable assurance. It was +he who offered to be my chevalier and avenge me; it was he who brought +me that wretched cigar. Luckily, I didn't receive his news kindly; but, +it doesn't make any difference, he was the cause of my crying my eyes +out, and seeing nobody but you for two whole months; I will never +forgive him for that. You must hunt him up, monsieur, and demand +satisfaction."<a name="vol_4_page_053" id="vol_4_page_053"></a></p> + +<p>"What, my dear love, a duel?"</p> + +<p>"I insist upon it."</p> + +<p>"But duelling is forbidden now."</p> + +<p>"I don't care if it is."</p> + +<p>"I don't know how to fight."</p> + +<p>"Everybody knows how to fire a pistol."</p> + +<p>"I have never tried."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow morning I will take you to Lepage's shooting gallery; you +must spend six hours there, and when you get through you will be able to +fire well enough to fight a duel."</p> + +<p>"But suppose Monsieur Tobie refuses?"</p> + +<p>"Then you will have the right to punish him another way. Carry your +stick, in case you need it."</p> + +<p>"But, Herminie——"</p> + +<p>"But I tell you, monsieur, that I will have it so. Now, let us go home; +I shall not appear again in society until I am avenged; for it seemed to +me to-night that people avoided me, and that the young men laughed and +whispered together as they looked at me."</p> + +<p>"Your cigar was the cause of that, madame."</p> + +<p>"No matter! when you have chastised the man who chose to amuse himself +at my expense, others will not be tempted to imitate him. Let us go, +monsieur."</p> + +<p>And the robust Herminie carried off her husband, who was not at all +pleased at being forced to fight, and, for the first time in his life, +was trying to think how he could manage to disobey his wife.<a name="vol_4_page_054" id="vol_4_page_054"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="XXVI" id="XXVI"></a>XXVI<br /><br /> +<small>A REMOVAL.—A SURPRISE</small></h2> + +<p>The weather was dark and damp and cold. Sans-Cravate was seated in his +usual place, as dismal and gloomy as the weather. His eyes wandered from +side to side, often resting on the spot where Paul was accustomed to +stand; then he fixed them on the ground at his feet, rested his head on +his hands, and sat perfectly motionless.</p> + +<p>Jean Ficelle walked to and fro in front of his comrade, whistling or +humming between his teeth, and from time to time taking a bite from a +great slice of bread which he rubbed with a raw onion; but that repast +seemed to be a matter of necessity, not of enjoyment.</p> + +<p>"<i>Sacrédié!</i>" he exclaimed suddenly, halting before his friend. "It +ain't any use for me to try to like this stuff—it's nasty! Dry bread +and onion will never be as good as roast veal. This is a beastly sort of +breakfast for a fellow to eat; but when you're breaking in two with +hunger, you must stuff your blackguard of a belly with something or +other! If I only had a drop of wine to wash it down with! but there's +not enough in my pocket to pay for the smallest kind of a glass. And +that wine shop keeper yonder won't trust me any more, on the pretext +that I owe him money now! What an old fool! Parbleu! if I didn't owe him +anything, he couldn't ever have trusted me. People ain't reasonable at +all. I say, Sans-Cravate, business has been pretty bad lately. We don't +earn hardly anything."<a name="vol_4_page_055" id="vol_4_page_055"></a></p> + +<p>"That ain't surprising; when we have a few sous, you take me right off +to spend 'em! then people come and don't find us in our places, so they +hire somebody else; that's the way I've lost almost all my customers. +Oh! I know well enough that I am doing wrong; I shall never save up +money by hanging round wine shops and seeing nobody but loafers. What +can they think of me at home? I am ashamed to write to my father. And my +sister, little Liline, that I meant to save money for, to give her a +marriage portion! Damnation! I'm an infernal coward! And to think that I +haven't got the strength of mind to begin to work hard again as I used +to! Ah! when a man has grief in his heart, he's good for nothing."</p> + +<p>"Ta! ta! ta! there you go again! You're always blaming yourself, and for +what? Sans-Cravate, you're no man! is it our fault if we don't get any +errands to do? No. But just because we go and take a drink once in a +while outside the barrier, you say we're losing our customers. That's +damned nonsense! Look you: I'll give you a comparison, to prove that +customers come all the same when we ain't here. There's Paul, that gawk +who used to stand over yonder, and hasn't showed up for two weeks +because you hit him so hard that he hurt himself a little when he +fell,—well, in the fortnight he's been away haven't they sent here for +him twenty times, to go to Monsieur Vermoncey, who wanted him? And five +days ago, when you were off on an errand, didn't monsieur himself come +and ask for him? There's a man that looks as if he was well fixed; he's +the father of your old customer, Monsieur Albert. Ah! there was a young +fellow who paid handsomely; how the money slipped through his fingers, +and what a pity he's left Paris! If he hadn't, what lots of cart-wheels +we'd have to spin!"<a name="vol_4_page_056" id="vol_4_page_056"></a></p> + +<p>"But what did Monsieur Vermoncey say to you?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Pardi!</i> he says like this: 'Tell me, my good man; your comrade who +used to stand yonder, young Paul, is never in his place now; what has +become of him? is he sick?'—I wasn't fool enough to tell him the truth, +you understand, so I says: 'No, monsieur; he hasn't been coming here for +some time, and I think he's given up the business. But I am here, +monsieur, to do any errands you want done; tell me what you want, and +I'll go.'—'I was anxious to see your comrade and talk to him,' says he; +'I take an interest in him; where does he live? can you give me his +address?'—'Wait a minute,' says I; 'he lives in a street I don't know +the name of, but I think it's No. 2 or No. 4—an even number, +anyway.'—At that, my man went off as if he was mad, and I says to +myself: 'Sold again!'"</p> + +<p>"But if he really has business with Paul—why not send him to him?"</p> + +<p>"Not much! Catch me sending customers to others, when we're short of 'em +ourselves! that would be too soft. And, besides, did he ever tell us his +address, the fox? do we know where he lives?"</p> + +<p>"No; but since that unfortunate fall, which I was responsible for, you +know that he has been living in Bastringuette's room and that she is +taking care of him; you must know it—as it was you who told me."</p> + +<p>"Yes, to be sure he's with her. Instead of having him taken to the +hospital, where he'd have been taken care of for nothing, she took him +to her own room; she's his nurse, his <i>sœur de pot</i>. Gad! a woman +must love a man, to spend all her money in drugs and medicines for him! +But it seems she does love him—with fire and blood!"<a name="vol_4_page_057" id="vol_4_page_057"></a></p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate gnawed his nails, but said nothing. After a few minutes, he +asked, in a low tone:</p> + +<p>"How about his wound? isn't it getting better? Won't he soon be well?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I don't know! that is to say, yes—the wound on the head's better; +it's all healed; but it seems that the arm will take longer; he broke +something or other when he fell, and that can't be put right in a +minute."</p> + +<p>"What surprises me," said Sans-Cravate, after a pause, "is that the +little dressmaker hasn't come once to ask us about him."</p> + +<p>"<i>Pardi!</i> she's probably done the same as he has—some other love +affair; and the proof is that she don't come to her work as early as she +used to; and she goes away much earlier. She has assignations to keep, +no doubt. Bah! it's no use, I can't swallow this dry; it scrapes my +throat; I must have a drink! Come on, Sans-Cravate, let's go to that +other wine shop, on the right; you can say it's to be charged to you, +and they'll trust you."</p> + +<p>"No; I don't propose to get trusted any more. When we haven't got any +money, we must drink water."</p> + +<p>"Why, that's nonsense! on the contrary, when you haven't got any money, +you get tight to forget your troubles. Come on; I'll treat, and owe you +the money."</p> + +<p>"No, I won't go!"</p> + +<p>The decided tone in which Sans-Cravate spoke convinced Jean Ficelle that +it would be useless for him to insist; so he went away alone, shrugging +his shoulders contemptuously and saying:</p> + +<p>"As you please. I'll get along without you; I can find some friend +who'll offer me a bottle."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate was conscious of a secret satisfaction in not having +yielded; he rested his head on his hands<a name="vol_4_page_058" id="vol_4_page_058"></a> again, and was soon absorbed +in thought—probably of Bastringuette, whom he had sworn to forget. +Suddenly he felt a light tap on his shoulder; he looked up and saw +Albert before him.</p> + +<p>"What! is it you, monsieur?" he cried, overjoyed at the reappearance of +his generous customer. "Ah! it's a long while since we have seen you; I +was speaking of you only a moment ago."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sans-Cravate, it is I; I have been in Paris only a week, and I was +absent more than two months. But I need you at once. Are you at +liberty?"</p> + +<p>"Always, monsieur, always at your service. You know that I am devoted to +you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; I am well aware of your zeal, and I know that I can rely on +your discretion, too; and that is why I have come for you. Listen; I +need someone who is strong and active; I have brought a lovely girl back +to Paris with me."</p> + +<p>"Oho! I recognize you there, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"You understand that my father must know nothing of this episode!"</p> + +<p>"Of course not, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"I established my young friend in a pretty little apartment, which I had +had furnished beforehand; it was in a distant quarter, on Rue de +Grenelle-Saint-Germain; I felt sure of never meeting my father in that +neighborhood. But, as luck would have it, one of his best friends had +moved while I was away, and taken lodgings directly opposite the house +to which I took the young woman I love."</p> + +<p>"<i>Bigre!</i> that won't do! you must change your quarters."</p> + +<p>"I learned that fact only yesterday, and I have already hired a +delightful little apartment on Rue Grange-aux-Belles, near the canal. +This time I will answer for it that my father won't meet me! So what I +want is to<a name="vol_4_page_059" id="vol_4_page_059"></a> have my furniture moved at once from Rue de Grenelle to Rue +Grange-aux-Belles."</p> + +<p>"There is nothing easier."</p> + +<p>"Here is some money; procure a wagon at once, and whatever else you +need. Here are the addresses; you will ask for Madame Albert's +apartment; that is the name I have given my young friend. The apartment +is very small, only two rooms and a dressing closet, so it won't take +you long to move everything. Let us see, how much time do you need? It's +half-past nine now."</p> + +<p>"Well, monsieur, at two o'clock everything will be in its place on Rue +Grange-aux-Belles."</p> + +<p>"At two o'clock; very good! you are an invaluable fellow. I am going to +take my young friend out to breakfast, so that she need not have to +undergo the annoyances of moving; and at two o'clock I will bring her to +her new lodging, where you are to wait for us; don't spare the money."</p> + +<p>Albert walked rapidly away, and Sans-Cravate folded up his <i>crochets</i>.</p> + +<p>"Good enough!" he said to himself; "this is more like; my best customer +has come back! how lucky that I didn't go off with Jean Ficelle! I +should have missed this job. And to think that that Paul told me to +distrust Monsieur Albert and the errands he gave me to do! Ah! the +traitor! he's the one I ought to have distrusted; he's in +Bastringuette's room, she is nursing him. She certainly must love him +pretty well, as Jean Ficelle says. To be betrayed by a friend! But this +is no time to think of that; I must go to work, for I've no time to +waste."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate procured a horse and wagon, and went to the house on Rue de +Grenelle, where he asked for Madame Albert's apartment. The concierge, +who had<a name="vol_4_page_060" id="vol_4_page_060"></a> been notified and handsomely paid by young Vermoncey, was very +zealous and obliging, and offered to help him to move the furniture.</p> + +<p>"I can't refuse," replied the messenger, "for I didn't bring anybody +with me but the driver, and he has to stay with his horse; I counted on +your help, especially as I can give you a good <i>pourboire</i>."</p> + +<p>"I have been well paid already," said the concierge. "That gentleman is +very generous, and I'm sorry that he's going to leave me, for I lose a +handsome profit. And then, the little woman hasn't got any maid as yet, +and my wife's been doing her housework. She don't know anything about +Paris, for she's never been here before; and my wife, who knows Paris +like a cab horse, would have shown her about."</p> + +<p>"Is she pretty?"</p> + +<p>"Very pretty, and something innocent and childlike about her. It's easy +to see that she comes from a long way off."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Monsieur Albert has good taste; but let's go upstairs and get to +work."</p> + +<p>The concierge took Sans-Cravate to a small apartment furnished with no +less coquetry than refinement; all the furniture was modern, and in the +best taste; nothing had been forgotten that could add to the charm of +the retreat; the hand of a rich and generous lover was visible in every +detail.</p> + +<p>"<i>Fichtre!</i> but Monsieur Albert does things in good shape!" said +Sans-Cravate, after an admiring glance at the furniture; "but we must be +careful not to break or injure anything. I'll take the responsibility."</p> + +<p>The messenger set to work with an activity and skill which aroused the +concierge's admiration: in two hours,<a name="vol_4_page_061" id="vol_4_page_061"></a> everything had been taken +downstairs and carefully packed on the wagon; and Sans-Cravate, having +given the concierge a <i>pourboire</i>, started for Rue Grange-aux-Belles.</p> + +<p>He soon reached the address indicated, and found the concierge as +courteous and zealous as he of Rue de Grenelle, because Albert had +employed the same means to win his favor. To set the human machine in +motion, one need not cudgel his brains for long; it is enough to grease +the joints.</p> + +<p>"Do you want to give me a lift with the biggest pieces?" asked the +messenger; "my orders are to give you a good <i>pourboire</i>."</p> + +<p>"I'd have done it for nothing, but I'll take the <i>pourboire</i>," replied +the concierge, with a laugh.</p> + +<p>"This one has been paid, too," said Sans-Cravate to himself; "but he +isn't so honest as the other; he don't say so."</p> + +<p>They went up to the apartment hired in the name of Madame Albert: it was +on the second floor, and consisted of two pretty rooms and two +dressing-rooms; the paper was all new, the paint fresh; nothing was +lacking but the furniture.</p> + +<p>"The deuce!" thought Sans-Cravate, as he looked over the apartment. +"This part of the job won't go all alone as the other did. All I had to +do then was to take everything I found; but I don't know where to put +the different things here. If I put a bed there, and they want it +somewhere else; if I put a commode over yonder, and a couch in this +corner, and they don't look right,—why, they won't be satisfied. The +young lady ought to be here, to tell me what to do. However, I'll just +do the best I can according to my own ideas; and when she comes, if it +ain't right, I'll change it."<a name="vol_4_page_062" id="vol_4_page_062"></a></p> + +<p>The concierge approved this reasoning, and they went about their task. +Sans-Cravate worked with redoubled zeal and ardor; he was determined to +fulfil his promise and satisfy Albert. He worked so hard, and spurred on +the concierge so successfully, that the clock had not struck two when +all the furniture was in place in the new apartment.</p> + +<p>But the perspiration poured from the face of the messenger, who was +overdone with fatigue and sorely in need of rest and refreshment.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Albert told me to wait," he said to the concierge, "but I +don't think I need wait in the apartment; there's a wine shop close by, +and I'll go there after I've sent the wagon away. Be kind enough to come +and tell me as soon as they arrive, and I'll be here in two strides."</p> + +<p>"All right," said the concierge; "you can go and take a bite at the wine +shop, and I'll let you know."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate paid and dismissed his carrier, then went to the wine shop, +seated himself at a table, and ordered a breakfast which he had well +earned by his labor, and which he ate with much greater zest than all +the <i>extras</i> he had discussed with Jean Ficelle.</p> + +<p>He had been at the wine shop a long while, and his appetite was +beginning to be appeased, when the concierge appeared and said:</p> + +<p>"They have come, and are waiting for you; everything's all right except +one commode that they want changed."</p> + +<p>"I'm all ready!" cried Sans-Cravate, and he made haste to pay for his +breakfast and follow the concierge. "Has Monsieur Albert come?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he came with the little lady, but he went right away again; he was +evidently in a great hurry. The little lady's all alone now."<a name="vol_4_page_063" id="vol_4_page_063"></a></p> + +<p>"Ah! he went away again, did he? The devil! in that case, I shan't know +whether he's satisfied. But if the lady is, that's all I want, as the +apartment's for her. Besides, he may be coming back."</p> + +<p>"Yes, as you say, if the lady is satisfied, that's all he cares about."</p> + +<p>When they reached the house, the concierge allowed Sans-Cravate to go up +alone.</p> + +<p>"You know where it is," he said; "I don't need to go with you."</p> + +<p>And the messenger went up to the apartment, saw the key in the door, and +entered the outer room, which was empty.</p> + +<p>"The little lady is evidently in the back room," he said to himself; "I +may disturb her; but still, as she wants something moved, she must be +expecting me."</p> + +<p>He began to cough, to let her know that he was there; then, as no one +answered, he decided to go into the other room. He saw a woman, whose +back was turned to him, as she was looking out of the window.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, madame," said Sans-Cravate; "it's the messenger who moved +you."</p> + +<p>The young woman turned, and disclosed a face, which, although very pale, +was fascinating in its sweetness and simplicity. It was an assemblage of +charming features: eyes of a blue as pure as a cloudless sky, and shaded +by long, jet-black lashes; a small, well-proportioned nose; a tiny mouth +with even, white teeth; and, lastly, imparting an infinite charm to the +whole face, a something artless and touching—something which denoted +that its possessor did not know how to lie.</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate gazed at the young woman, and stood as if rooted to the +floor, unable, afraid, to believe his eyes.<a name="vol_4_page_064" id="vol_4_page_064"></a> At last he stepped forward, +then stopped, looked at her again, and muttered:</p> + +<p>"Oh! my God! is it possible? is it a dream? But, no—I am mistaken—it +cannot be her!"</p> + +<p>But the girl, who had begun to tremble as she looked at Sans-Cravate, +and whose eyes had filled with tears, suddenly ran forward and threw +herself into the messenger's arms.</p> + +<p>"Brother! can it be you? Mon Dieu! aren't you willing to recognize me?"</p> + +<p>"My own sister! my Liline!" cried Sans-Cravate, taking the girl's head +in his hands, and covering her face with kisses; "so it is really you!"</p> + +<p>But the joyous expression of his face came and went like a lightning +flash. He let his arms fall, stepped away from the girl, and continued +with an accent of utter despair:</p> + +<p>"My sister here in Paris—with Monsieur Albert! My sister abducted—and +ruined, of course! O my God! our poor father!"</p> + +<p>And Sans-Cravate sank upon a chair; he could not speak, he could not +see; his forehead was burning, he was completely crushed by his grief. +But his sister went to him again, she held out her arms to him, knelt at +his feet, and said in a tone that went to his heart:</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, brother, I beseech you; forgive me!"</p> + +<p>That sweet voice reached the lowest depths of the messenger's heart; he +raised his sister and drew her to him, saying:</p> + +<p>"But how can it have happened? Come, tell me the whole story; don't keep +anything from me, for I must know all!"</p> + +<p>Adeline sat on her brother's knee, and said in a faltering tone:<a name="vol_4_page_065" id="vol_4_page_065"></a></p> + +<p>"Yes, I will tell you how it happened; you know that I never +lie."—Then, with an intonation of the voice and a simplicity of +language as ingenuous as her features, she told her story as follows:</p> + +<p>"The last time that you came home to see father, I was, as you know, +living with a rich lady who had taken a fancy to me and treated me as +her daughter. Father gave his consent, for he thought the education I +should receive with her might be of use to me some day. So I was at +Clermont, with my patroness. She made me work hard—reading, and +studying music; but I often regretted our little cottage, brother, where +I could run and jump about and play when I pleased; while in my +patroness's salon I always had to be neatly dressed, to stand very +straight, and to give up all the games I had enjoyed in my childhood; in +fact, Étienne, if I must admit it, I was sometimes depressed and often +bored; but I dared not say so, for fear of seeming ungrateful. My +greatest happiness was to sit at a window looking on the road; for from +there I could see the fields and our village and our mountains; and as I +worked at my embroidery, I often looked with a sigh in the direction of +our cottage.</p> + +<p>"About five weeks ago, while I was at the window, I saw a young man ride +by. He looked at me; I turned my eyes away, but I thought I could see +that he bowed to me. The next day, he passed again and looked up again; +and as I was sure that he bowed to me that time, I thought that it was +courteous to do as much. Several days in succession he rode by; I was +always at the window, always looking toward our village, but I knew very +well when the young man was there. The window was not very far from the +ground; he rode near and said a few words to me, which I didn't listen +to the first day,<a name="vol_4_page_066" id="vol_4_page_066"></a> but which I answered on the second. In short—I don't +know how it happened, but, before long, Monsieur Albert—he was the +young man on horseback—told me that he loved me, and I confessed that I +loved him too. Ah! brother, if you knew how happy he looked when I told +him that; he declared that he couldn't live without me, and I urged him +to go to the village to see father and ask his permission to marry me. +The next day, he came with a very downcast air, and told me that he had +seen father, who had refused his consent to our marriage; then I told +him to see my patroness, but he said that she had other projects for me; +that he knew that she intended to marry me to a very rich old gentleman +whom she expected at Clermont any day. At that I wept, but Albert said +to me: 'There's only one way for us to avoid being parted; that is, for +you to consent to come to Paris with me; we will be married at once, and +then our parents will have to forgive us.'—I refused at first; but he +begged so hard, swearing that I should surely be his wife, and there was +so much love in his eyes and in my heart, that I ended by giving +way.—'I will take you to Paris,' he said; 'and when we are married, +I'll write to your father to join us there.'—Then I thought of you, and +I said: 'I have a brother in Paris, his name's Étienne, and he's a fine +fellow;'—but—I mustn't lie to you—I didn't tell him you were a +messenger, for at my patroness's they seemed to laugh at men who +followed that calling. I said that you were learning to make money, but +that I didn't know how, and Albert answered: 'We will find your brother, +and I will love him too.'—Well—so I allowed him to carry me off, to +bring me to Paris; I did whatever Albert wanted me to do. Forgive me, +Étienne; it was very wicked, I know. But Albert is an honorable<a name="vol_4_page_067" id="vol_4_page_067"></a> man; he +will marry me, because he has promised to; I shall be his wife, and then +father will forgive me, too, won't he?"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate listened in gloomy and depressed silence to his sister's +story; when she ceased to speak, he sat for some time, absorbed in his +grief, and seemed to be waiting for her to say something more. But he +suddenly pushed her away, sprang to his feet, and began to pace the +floor, crying:</p> + +<p>"So this is how these fine young men behave, whose errands we do for +them! Ah! I deserve what has happened; yes, I have been doing wrong for +a long time, I too am becoming a ne'er-do-well, I allow myself to be +tempted to gamble and drink, and I forget my old home, and my father and +family! And now, this fine gentleman who pays me so generously, this +excellent customer who is always so free with his money, gives me +another big fee—and for what? to help him hide my sister, whom he has +abducted and dishonored! Ah! <i>crédié!</i> my hands itch!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! brother, don't be angry. Perhaps Albert doesn't know that you are +my brother."</p> + +<p>"Oh! no, indeed he don't know it! if he had, you may be sure he wouldn't +have come for me. And then, you told him that your brother's name was +Étienne, and everyone here calls me Sans-Cravate. But heaven has +permitted me to find you in Paris; for, do you see, Liline, I am here +now, and your seducer must undo the wrong he has done, or I'll kill him +on the spot!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! my dear brother, don't have such horrible thoughts! Why should you +suppose that Albert has deceived me? As he told me that I should be his +wife, he will certainly marry me!"<a name="vol_4_page_068" id="vol_4_page_068"></a></p> + +<p>"Marry you! Poor girl; with all the fine things you learned at Clermont, +you are still very ignorant! you don't know that these young Parisian +dandies take pleasure in deceiving women who are weak enough to listen +to them—yes, and are proud of it; that they have three or four +mistresses at once; that they fall in love with every pretty face they +see."</p> + +<p>"Oh! mon Dieu, brother! do you think Albert is like that?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think it; I am sure of it! Haven't I served him in his +intrigues a hundred times—carried his love letters and his messages? +Ten thousand thunders! And I laughed at it, and thought that it was all +right for him to amuse himself—to deceive poor girls who were often +driven to despair by his treachery—to make sport of other people's +sufferings! Ah! I was a heartless villain; and, instead of serving him +so faithfully, I ought to have said to him: 'Monsieur Albert, what you +are doing is all wrong, and I refuse to do any more of your dirty +work.'—But when we ourselves are not injured, we don't care; it seems +nothing at all to us, and we even laugh sometimes at the rascality +practised on others! Ah! my poor Liline! Why did father let you go to +that lady's at Clermont? why didn't he keep you with him at the cottage? +and me too, instead of sending me to Paris? Ah! a man ought never to +part with his children! ain't they always better off with their parents +than anywhere else? Come, come; you are crying now; come and kiss me: +don't cry, don't despair!"</p> + +<p>The pretty Auvergnate wept bitterly, for her brother had torn her heart +by telling her that her lover was a deceiver; but she could not believe +as yet that Albert did not intend to keep his promise, and she murmured +between her sobs:<a name="vol_4_page_069" id="vol_4_page_069"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh, brother! I am very sure that he loves me; he tells me so all day +long. Why should he have brought me to Paris, if he doesn't love me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! he loves you enough to make you his mistress—but his wife! +remember that we are only poor folk, that I am only a messenger—while +he is a young man of high social position; he is rich; he wouldn't have +me for a brother-in-law; why, you see, even you yourself, who have had a +fine education and learned society manners, didn't dare to tell him that +your brother was a messenger."</p> + +<p>"Oh! forgive me, brother!"</p> + +<p>And the girl threw herself into Sans-Cravate's arms, hid her face +against his breast, and sobbed as if her heart would break.</p> + +<p>"No, no!" she repeated; "he will not deceive me."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate disengaged himself from her arms, drew the back of his hand +across his eyes, and cried:</p> + +<p>"Well! this is no time to cry like two children; that won't help us. I +must act; I must decide what to do. But I have made up my mind."</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do, brother?"</p> + +<p>"I am going straight to Monsieur Albert's father, because, you see, +that's all there is to do. The son might say: 'I ain't my own master, I +don't dare, I must wait.'—But that ain't the kind of answer I want. +With the father we shall know what to expect, at all events. Besides, +they say that Monsieur Vermoncey's an honorable man; in that case, he +will understand my grief and be touched by your position; he won't be +willing that honest poor folk should be dishonored by his son; he won't +despise us because we haven't got any money, and because I'm only a +messenger. I'll say to him: 'Monsieur, we didn't<a name="vol_4_page_070" id="vol_4_page_070"></a> go after your son, to +try to catch him; it was him that wanted my sister, and he ran off with +her and promised to marry her; and if he don't marry her, <i>jarni!</i> it +will be bad for him, for I ain't the man to put up with such an insult.' +But Monsieur Vermoncey will understand me, and he loves his son; he's a +fine man, and he will consent—yes, I feel hopeful now, for it seems to +me that I have words in my heart that can't fail to move him. Come, +Liline, don't cry any more; cheer up; you shall marry Monsieur Albert."</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, brother, yes! I'm very happy that you agree with me now."</p> + +<p>And the artless child, with whom laughter soon succeeded tears, threw +her arms gayly about his neck.</p> + +<p>"You must stay here, Liline, and wait for me; you won't leave this +house?"</p> + +<p>"No, brother."</p> + +<p>"When is Monsieur Albert to return?"</p> + +<p>"This evening."</p> + +<p>"Then I shall be back before him, and I hope to bring you good news. If +I don't—if my prayers are rejected—then I'll take you away with me, +sister; I won't leave you with your seducer another minute. I will work +for both of us. I shan't go to the wine shop any more, that's all over; +and I'll steer clear of Jean Ficelle. I will try to save up a tidy +little sum before long, and then I'll take you back to father, and we +won't leave him again. You'll go with me, won't you, Liline?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, brother. But Albert will marry me, his father will consent—you +said so yourself just now."</p> + +<p>"At all events, we must hope so. Come, kiss me, sister, and pray heaven +that my attempt may not be thrown away!"<a name="vol_4_page_071" id="vol_4_page_071"></a></p> + +<p>The girl threw herself into her brother's arms, and he held her to his +heart for some time; it required an effort on his part to make up his +mind to leave her; at last, summoning all his courage, he kissed Liline +once more and left her, to call upon Monsieur Vermoncey.</p> + +<p>It was several days prior to this time that Albert's father had fallen +in with Madame Baldimer at Monsieur Grazcernitz's reception, whence he +had returned home in a state of violent agitation after listening to the +fair American's story.</p> + +<p>From that moment, Monsieur Vermoncey had remained in his own apartment, +sunk in profound melancholy, and had denied himself to all visitors. It +seemed that some deep-rooted sorrow, which had been slumbering in the +depths of his heart, had suddenly awakened with renewed violence and was +engrossing all his thoughts.</p> + +<p>His son's return, however, had brought a ray of light into the Vermoncey +household; but Albert, absorbed by his new passion, spent as much time +as he possibly could with the girl he had brought from Clermont; so that +Monsieur Vermoncey saw very little of his son, and he made excuses for +him, concluding that after such a prolonged absence he was hungry for +the pleasures which he found in the capital.</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate walked with a determined step to Monsieur Vermoncey's +house, but when he arrived there he felt that his courage failed him; +however, to revive it, he thought of his sister, to whom he had promised +good news; he thought of his old father, and of their honor, which was +in his hands; then he no longer faltered, but passed the concierge and +went up to the door of Monsieur Vermoncey's apartment, where he rang.<a name="vol_4_page_072" id="vol_4_page_072"></a></p> + +<p>"What do you want?" inquired the servant, when he saw the messenger, +whose disordered dress, excited manner, and flashing eyes seemed to +point to some extraordinary occurrence.</p> + +<p>"I want to see Monsieur Albert's father—Monsieur Vermoncey."</p> + +<p>"What do you want of him?"</p> + +<p>"What I want of him concerns nobody but him and me, and I am not +disposed to tell it to you."</p> + +<p>"Did monsieur send you on some errand, and have you brought back an +answer?"</p> + +<p>"He didn't send me anywhere; but I have something to say to him."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur is in his study; he doesn't receive anyone."</p> + +<p>"But he must receive me!"</p> + +<p>"When monsieur refuses every day to receive visits from his friends, I +don't imagine he is likely to give preference to a messenger!"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate spat on his hands and rubbed them together, then shook his +fist in the servant's face.</p> + +<p>"Do you see that?" he said; "if you don't do my errand right away, I'll +smash your nose so that I'll defy you to blow it!"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate's eyes were so eloquent of his determination, that the +servant, having involuntarily stepped back, deemed it prudent not to +resist him, and decided to go to his master, to whom he said:</p> + +<p>"There's a very savage and rough-mannered messenger outside, who insists +on speaking to monsieur. Shall I turn him out of doors?"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey thought that the man had probably come to bring him +news of Paul, for whom he had<a name="vol_4_page_073" id="vol_4_page_073"></a> found a place, and whom he had sought in +vain at his usual stand.</p> + +<p>"Show him in," he said.</p> + +<p>This command was most unwelcome to the servant, who returned to +Sans-Cravate and said sullenly:</p> + +<p>"Come in; monsieur consents to receive you;—these masters are most +astonishing with their whims."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate trembled slightly, but did not hesitate; he entered the +study and found himself in Monsieur Vermoncey's presence.</p> + +<p>Albert's father was seated in front of the fire; he turned his head and +scrutinized Sans-Cravate, who, after opening the door, stood on the +threshold, afraid to go forward.</p> + +<p>"Well, what do you want with me? speak!"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate felt that his throat was parched and that he had no saliva +in his mouth; some instants passed before he could articulate a word, +but at last he stammered:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, it is—it is about—about monsieur your son."</p> + +<p>"My son!" cried Monsieur Vermoncey, who instantly recalled the first +time that Paul had come to see him, and feared that another duel was on +the carpet. "My son—what has happened to him?—is he in danger? Speak!"</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur; no, he is not in danger; and when I say that it's about +him—I should say that I have come on my own account, that it's myself +who—— <i>Sacrédié!</i>—excuse me, monsieur, but I am so worked up—it +ain't fear—but it makes me feel queer. One minute, monsieur; my mind is +coming back, and, after all, why shouldn't I dare to speak to you? you +are an honorable man. I'm a miserable fool to tremble so—now, it's all +over!"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey looked at Sans-Cravate with more interest, and waited +with some curiosity for him to explain himself.<a name="vol_4_page_074" id="vol_4_page_074"></a></p> + +<p>"My name is Étienne Renaud," the messenger continued, in a firm voice; +"I come from Auvergne; I came to Paris to be a messenger, and they have +given me the name of Sans-Cravate here; it's a nickname of no +consequence, and I don't mind it. My regular stand is on the corner of +Rue du Helder and the boulevard."</p> + +<p>"I remember now that I have seen you there," said Monsieur Vermoncey, +"and that you have a young man named Paul for your comrade. Have you +come to give me news of him?"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate made a wry face at the name of Paul, and continued:</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur; no, it hasn't anything to do with him. I must tell you, +monsieur, that I left a very pretty sister in Auvergne, who is seventeen +years old now; a lady in Clermont took a fancy to her and insisted on +taking her into her family, to give her an education, like a young lady. +My sister's an honest girl, d'ye see, monsieur; leastways, she was till +the devil sent a young gentleman from Paris down that way, and he began +to hang about the house. He saw my Liline and thought she was +pretty—<i>dame!</i> it would be hard for anyone not to think so,—the +sweetest little face in Auvergne; and now she has distinguished manners, +so that anyone would swear she was a princess! Well, monsieur, to cut it +short, this young man—who's a good-looking fellow, too, worse luck! and +all the women like him—well, he seduced my sister! The poor child! she +believed in love right away, as you believe fine weather's coming when +you see the first swallows. He told her a lot of things to turn her +head, and made her believe my father had refused to give him her hand; +which ain't true, I am sure, for my father loves her too dearly to +refuse to give her to the<a name="vol_4_page_075" id="vol_4_page_075"></a> man she loves. In short, he promised, swore, +that he'd marry her, if she'd consent to come to Paris with him; and my +sister believed it all, she never thought for a moment that the young +man meant to deceive her, so she yielded to his entreaties. She came to +Paris with her—her lover—I might as well say the word. And the young +man who did all this is your son, monsieur, Monsieur Albert!"</p> + +<p>"My son!" cried Monsieur Vermoncey, fastening his eyes upon +Sans-Cravate, unable to believe that he had heard aright. "My son has +done that! Oh, no! you are mistaken; you have been misinformed."</p> + +<p>"Oh! it's only too true, monsieur; there's no chance of any mistake. I +know Monsieur Albert well; I've been his messenger a long while; and as +he always spoke pleasantly to me, I liked him—yes, I was fond of him; +his good humor, his pleasant manners, his happy disposition, perhaps his +very faults—all fascinated me too. In fact, I would have jumped into +the fire for him; and he knew it, and he always came for me when he had +some shady errand to be done. I hadn't seen him for more than two +months, and I'd concluded he was travelling somewhere, when he came +after me at my stand about half-past nine this morning."</p> + +<p>"This morning?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur; it ain't an old story, you see.—'Sans-Cravate,' he +says, 'I've brought a lovely girl back to Paris with me, but my father +mustn't know anything about it. I took lodgings for her a long way off, +on Rue de Grenelle-Saint-Germain; but I have just found out that one of +my father's intimate friends lives on that street now.'"</p> + +<p>"True—Monsieur Delmas. Well?"</p> + +<p>"'And so,' he went on, 'as I don't want to meet anybody I know when I go +to see my young friend, I've hired<a name="vol_4_page_076" id="vol_4_page_076"></a> another apartment, on Rue +Grange-aux-Belles, near the canal.'—In short, monsieur, he employed me +to move the furniture from Rue de Grenelle to the new lodgings in a +great hurry, and to wait till he brought his lady there. I agreed, of +course, and did what he told me to do. I finished the job before two +o'clock, and I had gone out to rest a bit, for I was tired out, when the +concierge came and told me they had arrived and the young man had gone +right away again. I went to see the lady, to find out whether she was +satisfied with the way I'd fixed her furniture. You can judge of my +feelings when I recognized my sister Liline in the girl Monsieur Albert +had abducted. She cried when she saw me, and kissed me, and begged me to +forgive her; then she told me how it had all happened, just as I have +told you; and she begged me not to get angry, because she is perfectly +sure her lover will marry her as he has promised."</p> + +<p>"My son has done that! abducted a virtuous girl! and seduced her! Oh! +that is very bad—it is——"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey did not finish his sentence, but hid his face in his +hands.</p> + +<p>"I am only a poor, uneducated messenger, monsieur. But I have my honor, +and I care all the more for it, d'ye see, because it's all I've got. At +first I cried with my sister, and broke her heart by telling her that +her seducer was probably a fickle fellow who only intended to deceive +her as he has a thousand other women; but she seems so convinced of his +love; and then, she's so sweet and pretty, poor Liline! After all, why +shouldn't Monsieur Albert love her sincerely? That thought brought back +my courage, and I comforted her and made up my mind right off to come +and tell you the whole story, because you're the young man's father, and +it can't be fixed<a name="vol_4_page_077" id="vol_4_page_077"></a> without your consent. I thought, monsieur, that you +would listen to the voice of poor people who may be ruined by your +son—but who can be made very happy by you, if you choose."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate ceased to speak; he was satisfied with his performance. In +truth, his sister's plight had made him almost eloquent; for we never +lack moving words, words that go to the heart, when we follow the +heart's promptings.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey said nothing, but seemed absorbed in thought. The +messenger anxiously awaited the words that were to come forth from his +mouth, and to decide his sister's fate; but he dared not urge him to +speak, and his eyes alone bore witness to his impatience.</p> + +<p>At last, Monsieur Vermoncey rose, went to Sans-Cravate, put his hand on +his shoulder, and said:</p> + +<p>"Come, my friend, let us try to forgive a young man's wrong-doing, all +the consequences of which he failed to realize. I am rich; I will take +it upon myself to look after your sister's future, and that of your +whole family; your father, in his old age, shall have everything to make +life pleasant, and——"</p> + +<p>"What's that? what's that?" exclaimed Sans-Cravate, stepping back and +looking Monsieur Vermoncey squarely in the eye. "What are you coming at +with all your talk about money? It isn't money that we ask, but the +honor that your son has taken away from us and must give back. In a +word, monsieur, for I don't go to a place by thirty-six roads, I have +come here to demand your consent to Monsieur Albert's marriage to my +sister."</p> + +<p>"My son marry your sister!" rejoined Monsieur Vermoncey, with a slight +upward movement of the shoulders. "Nonsense, my friend; surely, you +can't think of such a<a name="vol_4_page_078" id="vol_4_page_078"></a> thing; such a marriage is impossible! There are +distinctions, conventions, in society, which we are bound to respect. In +fact, my son cannot ally himself to a—messenger!"</p> + +<p>"Then why could he dishonor my sister?" cried Sans-Cravate, in a loud +voice and with an angry glance at his interlocutor.</p> + +<p>"Hush, my friend, not so loud, for heaven's sake!" rejoined Monsieur +Vermoncey, astonished by the tone the messenger had assumed. But +Sans-Cravate paid no heed; he was no longer the timid creature who +trembled when he entered the presence of the man of the world and could +not speak to him without stammering; now he was a brother demanding +justice for his sister, and firmly resolved to obtain it.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur," he said, "I am no boaster; I haven't come here to fling +words in the air without any result; I have come to tell you what is +going to happen. Either monsieur your son will marry my sister, you +understand—either he'll marry her, or I'll kill him—unless he kills +me. But as I believe there is such a thing as divine justice, and I am +the injured party, I can afford to think that I shall kill him."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey dropped into a chair.</p> + +<p>"Kill my son!" he cried; "my Albert! the only child left to me—the only +tie that binds me to life! Do you mean to kill me too?"</p> + +<p>"Then consent to his marriage to my sister, monsieur, and don't think +you'll have any reason to blush for the connection. There's nothing +dishonorable, monsieur, in being connected with honest folk who never +injured anyone. The dishonorable thing is to carry trouble and despair +into a family, to seduce a girl, and to abandon her<a name="vol_4_page_079" id="vol_4_page_079"></a> when she may be +carrying within her a token of her weakness; and if that should be so, +monsieur, what would become of the child? He wouldn't have any +father—he——"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey sprang to his feet, ran to Sans-Cravate, and grasped +his hand, saying:</p> + +<p>"You are right, my friend, and I must give way. Yes, I consent to my +son's marrying your sister."</p> + +<p>"Can it be possible?" cried Sans-Cravate, jumping for joy; "you +consent—you are willing? I am not deceiving myself?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my friend, I consent; you have my word; but you must leave your +present business; I will find you some more suitable employment."</p> + +<p>"Oh! whatever you choose, monsieur; mon Dieu! I'll go back to the old +home, I'll take care of the barnyard, I'll never go out of the house, if +you say so."</p> + +<p>"Never fear, my friend; I will arrange matters so that we shall all be +satisfied. Go and get your sister, and bring her back with you; I will +receive her as my daughter, and I desire that the marriage ceremony be +performed at the earliest possible moment."</p> + +<p>"Oh! this is too much good fortune! I knew that you were a good man. I +will love you as I do my own father; and my poor sister, my Liline, how +happy she will be! Why, it's enough to make one crazy with joy!"</p> + +<p>And Sans-Cravate danced about the room, overturning furniture, laughing +and singing. Monsieur Vermoncey was obliged to quiet him, and to remind +him that his sister was expecting him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! you are right," was the reply; "my sister's waiting for me, +and I don't hurry and tell her! What a<a name="vol_4_page_080" id="vol_4_page_080"></a> fool I am! And that poor +Monsieur Albert, who is with her, no doubt! I'll go right away and tell +them how kind you are; and I'll bring them back to your arms. Oh! it +won't take me long, I promise you."</p> + +<p>A minute later, Sans-Cravate was in the street, and he ran without +stopping to the house where he had left his sister. He was drenched with +perspiration when he arrived. He entered the house and was already on +the stairs, when the concierge called him.</p> + +<p>"Well, comrade, where are you going so fast?"</p> + +<p>"Parbleu! to see my sister. The pretty little lady who moved in to-day +is my sister."</p> + +<p>"I don't know anything about that, but you won't find her."</p> + +<p>"What! has she gone out—alone?"</p> + +<p>"No—with the young gentleman who brought her here; he came back just +after you went away."</p> + +<p>"Well! they'll be back soon, no doubt. Do you know which way they went?"</p> + +<p>"No; and I don't think they'll be back for a long while. The gentleman +sent for a cab, and put in the satchel of clothes they brought here this +morning. Then he gave me the keys to the apartment, and said: 'Just air +the rooms a little, now and then.'—And with that, he put the little +lady in the cab, got in beside her, and good-day. It's my opinion +they've left Paris."</p> + +<p>"Gone! they have gone!" ejaculated Sans-Cravate. "Great God! Monsieur +Albert probably thought that his father wouldn't forgive him; he was +afraid he'd have to part with Liline. Oh! what a misfortune! But they'll +write, I hope. Didn't my sister leave any word for me?"</p> + +<p>"Not a word; but I saw she was crying when she got into the cab."<a name="vol_4_page_081" id="vol_4_page_081"></a></p> + +<p>"She was crying—poor girl! and they'd have been so happy, if they had +only waited for me!"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate was in despair; but as he could learn nothing more from the +concierge, he returned to Monsieur Vermoncey and told him of the abrupt +departure of the lovers.</p> + +<p>Albert's father was greatly distressed by the news, and he at once sent +to his son's apartment to ascertain whether he had left a letter for +him. The servant brought back a short note, which had evidently been +written in great haste and contained these words only:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Excuse my absence, father; I am compelled to go away again, and +this time without saying good-bye to you. But don't be anxious; you +will hear from me often, and I hope to see you again before long."</p></div> + +<p>"And he don't say where he's going!" murmured Sans-Cravate. "What a +pity! you could have written to him at once that he could come back, +that everything was forgiven."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he will tell me where he is, in his first letter," suggested +Monsieur Vermoncey; "then I will write to him, or else we will both go +and join them."</p> + +<p>"Ah! yes, yes, we will do that, that's a fine idea; but till then I must +be patient. Will you allow me, monsieur, to come often to ask whether +you have heard from your son?"</p> + +<p>"Whenever you choose, my friend; you are no longer a stranger to me. +Here, Étienne, take this purse, and give up your trade; from this moment +you do not need to earn money."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate declined the money that was offered him, and replied, in a +melancholy tone:<a name="vol_4_page_082" id="vol_4_page_082"></a></p> + +<p>"No, monsieur, not yet; my sister ain't your son's wife as yet; until +then, let me stay as I am."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey's persistent entreaties could not shake his +determination.</p> + +<p>"Let's hope they will come back," he said, as he went away, "or that we +shall soon find out where they are."</p> + +<p>He returned to his stand, lost in thought, with no desire to laugh or +dance, and saying to himself:</p> + +<p>"Was it because he learned that Liline had found her brother that +Monsieur Albert carried her off so quick?"</p> + +<h2><a name="XXVII" id="XXVII"></a>XXVII<br /><br /> +<small>LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP</small></h2> + +<p>When Paul lay on the ground, unconscious, after he had been wounded on +the head and arm by his fall, Bastringuette had hastened to the spot; +and seeing Sans-Cravate walk rapidly away, she had partly divined the +cause of the younger man's deplorable condition.</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! mon Dieu!" cried the girl; "they have been fighting—or, +rather, Sans-Cravate insisted on fighting this poor boy, who ain't +strong enough to stand up to him. And it must have been jealousy that +made Sans-Cravate do it—because he saw me talking to Paul. I'm the +cause of his hard luck—or my beastly coquetry, my foolish idea of +changing lovers, when I was well off. But that's how it always is in +love; when you're well off, it bores you, and you want to change; when +you're badly off, you stay as you are."<a name="vol_4_page_083" id="vol_4_page_083"></a></p> + +<p>While she talked thus to herself, Bastringuette did what she could for +the young messenger. The people who had collected talked about carrying +him to the nearest hospital, but Bastringuette cried out at the word:</p> + +<p>"I guess not much! You don't catch me letting this poor boy go to the +hospital while I have a decent place to take him to! He must have rooms +somewhere himself; but as he can't talk just now, he can't tell us where +they are. Anyway, it will be more convenient for me to nurse him and +make herb tea for him in my room; for these boys never have a kettle fit +to boil water in."</p> + +<p>So the flower girl sent for a cab; they lifted the wounded man into it, +after she had bandaged his head and arm as well as she could; then she +gave her address—Rue des Martyrs, near the barrier—and when they +arrived there, Paul was taken up to her room, with the assistance of the +cabman and the concierge, and placed on her bed.</p> + +<p>As may be imagined, Bastringuette's domicile was not luxurious. Her +apartment consisted of a bedroom and closet, on the fifth floor, under +the eaves. She called it the sparrows' entresol.</p> + +<p>The furniture was very modest: a wooden cot-bed, a cherry commode, six +cane-seated chairs,—or rather six chairs that needed to be reseated,—a +small table, a mirror, a foot-warmer, and a stove. So much for the +bedroom. As to the closet, it contained a row of pegs, on which nothing +was ever hung. But the aspect of the bedroom was not unpleasant and did +not indicate downright poverty, thanks to the spotless cleanliness that +prevailed.</p> + +<p>The bed was surrounded with calico curtains, always very white; there +were also two little curtains of the<a name="vol_4_page_084" id="vol_4_page_084"></a> same material at the window, +taking the place of one large one. On the commode, on the little table, +and on the window sill, there were almost always flowers, some in pots, +some in blue carafes. Flowers were Bastringuette's one luxury, and more +than once she had breakfasted on a crust of bread in order to have +flowers during the winter, when she did not sell them.</p> + +<p>After placing Paul on the bed, Bastringuette went to one of her +neighbors and asked her to go for a doctor. The tall girl was popular in +the house, because she was light-hearted and clever; and they loved to +hear her talk, and repeat in her homely language all the flattering +speeches made to her by the men who bought flowers of her.</p> + +<p>When they learned that the flower girl had a wounded man in her room, +the neighbors all wanted to help: one went for a doctor, another for a +druggist; this one had a remedy of her own preparation, that one an +infallible ointment; so that when Paul opened his eyes he found himself +surrounded by women of all ages, all talking at once, and all anxious to +cure him, offering ointment, herb tea, plasters, and blisters, each with +at least three phials in her hand. Luckily for the wounded man, the +doctor came and restored peace among the women, who were disputing with +one another as to whose remedy should be preferred. The doctor began by +throwing all the phials out of the window, then turned his would-be +confrères out of the room; and having examined the patient, found that +the wound on the head was severe but not dangerous, that he had sprained +his arm when he fell, and that what he most needed were rest and good +nursing.</p> + +<p>Paul looked about the room in amazement. When the doctor had gone, +Bastringuette said:<a name="vol_4_page_085" id="vol_4_page_085"></a></p> + +<p>"Now, try to be calm and quiet; let me take care of you, and don't talk! +the doctor says you mustn't. You're in my room; that vexes you, perhaps, +but, <i>dame!</i> I didn't know your address, and I wouldn't let you be taken +to the hospital. It don't put me out a bit, don't you be afraid; I'm my +own mistress, and I snap my fingers at what folks say! I know well +enough that there's some people always ready to see something wrong in +whatever anyone does, and who'll think you're my lover. I don't care for +that. There was a time when I'd have liked right well to have you, I +don't deny it; I had fallen in love with you; you made my head queer, +like a sunstroke. And that was when I turned my back on poor +Sans-Cravate! I made a great success of that. You told me right out that +you loved somebody else—and then—there was what I heard, what I found +out about you. I saw plain enough, then, that you was too far above +me—by the way you acted. Hush! don't speak, the doctor says you +mustn't. You don't like what I say, so I'm done, it's dead; I won't +mention it again. When chance let me into your secret, you made me swear +to keep quiet about it; but that's no reason why I can't tell you, +between ourselves, that it's a noble thing you're doing, and you ought +to have the prize of virtue, the prize of—— Well, you're moving your +lips, so I'll shut up. Now, go to sleep, or try to go to sleep; and when +you wake up, perhaps you'll have a pleasant surprise—no one knows!"</p> + +<p>"You are too good," murmured Paul, in a weak voice; "but I am in your +way here; you ought to have let me——"</p> + +<p>"Hold your tongue this minute! I ought to have let you be taken to the +hospital, eh? That would have<a name="vol_4_page_086" id="vol_4_page_086"></a> been a sweet thing to do! when I was the +cause of it all—yes, it was my nonsense! If I hadn't made eyes at +you—in fact, if I hadn't tried to catch you, would Sans-Cravate have +hit you? Now, he hates me, and he's quite right; but he's all wrong to +fight you, because it ain't your fault. Come, go to sleep; the doctor +said you must sleep; and I tell you again that you ain't in my way; I've +got another bed in the closet, and I'll sleep on that. I'm going out to +get the medicines the doctor ordered; I shan't be gone long."</p> + +<p>Bastringuette left the room; and Paul closed his eyes, praying heaven to +deal kindly with him, because his existence was still necessary.</p> + +<p>Toward evening, after several hours of restless slumber, he opened his +eyes; two faces were leaning over him, waiting for the moment of his +awakening. Paul uttered a cry of surprise when he recognized Elina.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's Mamzelle Elina," said Bastringuette; "it's your sweetheart. I +went and waited for her at her dressmaker's door, so's to tell her what +had happened to you, and I had an idea she'd come back with me. That's +why I said perhaps you'd have a pleasant waking-up."</p> + +<p>Paul held out his hand to the little dressmaker, who gazed at him with +eyes full of love and tears as she said:</p> + +<p>"Oh, my friend! you are wounded! what a misfortune! But still I'm very +happy that Bastringuette came and told me. She told me how it occurred, +too. A horrid drunken man pushed you and knocked you down; she happened +to be passing and saw you lying on the ground, unconscious, and had you +brought here to her room. She's a dear, good girl, and she loves you +almost as much as I do. I should have been so anxious, so unhappy, when +I didn't see you! I should have thought again<a name="vol_4_page_087" id="vol_4_page_087"></a> that you had stopped +loving me. But now I'll come and see you every day; yes, monsieur, every +day; in the morning when I go to my work, and at night before I go home +to my aunt's.—What is it, monsieur? don't you want me to?"</p> + +<p>"If your aunt should find it out," Paul murmured, "she would scold you, +and I don't want to expose you to——"</p> + +<p>"What an extraordinary man!" cried Bastringuette; "he's willing to be +loved, but he don't want anybody to do anything for him. Bless my soul! +mademoiselle will get up a little earlier and go home a little +later—what a hardship! She'll tire herself, perhaps, to get here a +little sooner; but she'll see you, and that'll do you good and her too."</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, my dear," said Elina, "let me spend every minute I am at +liberty with you; let me help Bastringuette; I shall be so happy when I +see you getting better every day! and the first time you go out, you +will lean on her and me. Oh! you shall see how I can take care of you, +too; I look like a light-headed little thing, but I won't be that any +more; I mean that you shall be satisfied with me."</p> + +<p>The young invalid felt the tears roll down his cheeks when he saw how +fond they were of him; and he was so moved to find himself the object of +such sweet and loving attentions, that he could not speak; but he looked +from one to the other of the girls who stood beside his bed, and his +eyes probably told them all that was taking place in his heart, for +Bastringuette exclaimed, with her customary bluntness:</p> + +<p>"Oh, well! if we're going to be sentimental, and all three of us cry, we +shall make a pretty mess of it; it'll<a name="vol_4_page_088" id="vol_4_page_088"></a> give him the fever, and he won't +get well. The doctor said he mustn't be excited, and we've done nothing +else!"</p> + +<p>Elina sat down beside the bed, took one of the injured man's hands in +hers, and said to him in a low, very low tone:</p> + +<p>"Does it do you any harm to see how much I love you? More's the pity if +it does; I'll tell you every day. And if my aunt should find out that I +come to see you, why, I'll say: 'Paul is going to be my husband, aunt; +and a woman has a right to nurse her husband.'"</p> + +<p>While the little dressmaker said to her lover all that her heart +prompted her to say, Bastringuette went to one of her neighbors and +borrowed a wretched mattress, which she carried into her closet; then +she threw some old clothes on it, and said to herself:</p> + +<p>"I shall sleep well enough there; anyway, a nurse can't sleep much."</p> + +<p>Elina, having to return to her aunt, left them with regret, saying:</p> + +<p>"Until to-morrow!"</p> + +<p>Then, after administering to her patient a draught prescribed by the +doctor, Bastringuette lay down on the mattress on the floor of the +closet.</p> + +<p>"I'll be on hand if you make the least movement," she said to Paul.</p> + +<p>Early the next morning, Elina was at the flower girl's, bringing some +sugar and a small jar of preserve.</p> + +<p>"It's my right to help take care of him," she said to Bastringuette. "My +aunt gives me so much a day for my food, and I can afford to pinch +myself a little for my poor Paul."</p> + +<p>That seemed natural enough to Bastringuette, for she would have done as +much.<a name="vol_4_page_089" id="vol_4_page_089"></a></p> + +<p>If the certainty of being loved had been sufficient to restore the young +messenger's health, Paul would have been cured in a very short time. But +such was not the case; unluckily, the patient's mind was constantly +occupied by other thoughts. He was worried and alarmed by his helpless +plight, and the wound on his head, instead of cicatrizing, became more +serious, because it was complicated by a sharp attack of fever.</p> + +<p>The two girls redoubled their zealous attentions to the patient; +Bastringuette passed part of the night with him; Elina sometimes arrived +before daybreak, and often remained very late in the evening, having +succeeded in making her aunt believe that she worked late at Madame +Dumanchon's. Both of them deprived themselves of the most essential +necessities of life, so that the sick man need lack nothing; but neither +of them complained nor would have consented to surrender the place she +occupied.</p> + +<p>One evening, after a day during which the fever had not left him for an +instant, Paul looked about and saw that Bastringuette was alone in the +room. She had gone into a corner, so that the invalid might not see her +eat the piece of dry bread of which her evening meal consisted. Paul +called her, and she hastened to his side after thrusting her bread into +her pocket.</p> + +<p>"What day is it?" he asked, fixing his eyes, bright with fever, on +Bastringuette's.</p> + +<p>"What day? This is Tuesday."</p> + +<p>"No, not that; what day of the month?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! it's the twenty-fourth."</p> + +<p>"The twenty-fourth! Why, how long have I been sick?"</p> + +<p>"It was the fifth you got so used up! I remember it very well; it was a +Thursday."<a name="vol_4_page_090" id="vol_4_page_090"></a></p> + +<p>"The fifth; so I've been here nineteen days?"</p> + +<p>"Well, what if it was fifty? I can understand that it bores you to be +sick, but ain't you well taken care of here? Don't Mamzelle Elina and I +do all that's necessary, all the doctor says?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! yes, my good Bastringuette—indeed you do too much! But to-morrow's +the twenty-fifth. Great God! It can't be postponed. That thought, +Bastringuette, is what gives me the fever and keeps me from getting +well."</p> + +<p>"What thought? Come, speak out, tell me what you want me to do. I'll do +it right away."</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, yes! you will do it, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Do you want me to swear?"</p> + +<p>"No. Listen: that old lady, at whose rooms you met me, on Vieille Rue du +Temple——"</p> + +<p>"Madame Desroches?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I absolutely must send her some money."</p> + +<p>"Money! Mon Dieu! as if——"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I am well aware that you haven't any, my poor girl! I know that you +and Elina deprive yourselves of everything in order to take care of me."</p> + +<p>"No, no—nonsense! The druggist gives me the medicines for nothing."</p> + +<p>"Listen. To-morrow morning, early, you must go to my room—the key is in +the pocket of my jacket. It's on Rue du Faubourg-Saint-Honoré, No. 10. +Go up to the fifth floor, the door on the left. There you will find +sixty francs in the table drawer."</p> + +<p>"Ah! what luck!"</p> + +<p>"Wait a moment: you are to take that money, also a frock-coat, a pair of +black trousers, and a black waistcoat, which you will find in a small +wardrobe. They are all in good condition, almost new, I wear them so +seldom.<a name="vol_4_page_091" id="vol_4_page_091"></a> However, if you think they are not enough, take all the linen +you can find—four shirts, some sheets——"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! what am I to do with all those things?"</p> + +<p>"Take them to the Mont-de-Piété, and get forty francs on them, which you +will put with the sixty; for to-morrow,—yes, to-morrow, the +twenty-fifth,—you must carry a hundred francs to Madame Desroches. You +must do it, do you hear?"</p> + +<p>"Noble young man! What! you mean to go on doing without everything, +to——"</p> + +<p>"Hush, Bastringuette! you must carry that sum to-morrow to the widow of +my benefactor. If that isn't done, I feel that I shall never get well."</p> + +<p>"Oh! in that case, I'll go. Never you fear! I'll do everything you've +told me, and she shall have the money to-morrow. But suppose your +concierge won't let me carry the things away?"</p> + +<p>"There isn't any concierge."</p> + +<p>"In that case, it will soon be fixed up."</p> + +<p>"Good! I thank you, Bastringuette. And you won't mention this to Elina?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! dear me, no! as long as you don't want her to know your good +deeds."</p> + +<p>"I am simply doing my duty. If only heaven will permit me to finish what +I have undertaken! I was so happy to think that, in a few months +more—— However, you'll go to-morrow, won't you, Bastringuette?—By the +way, one word more: Madame Desroches will ask you, no doubt, why I +haven't been to see her for so long a time, and why I have sent you with +the money. You must tell her that I sent you because I had to leave +Paris, to go on a short journey for the house in which I am employed. +Don't forget that."<a name="vol_4_page_092" id="vol_4_page_092"></a></p> + +<p>"No, I won't forget anything."</p> + +<p>Paul slept more quietly, thinking that the person whose self-constituted +protector he was would not have to suffer by reason of the misfortune +that had befallen him. That night his sleep refreshed him, and when he +woke he saw Elina's pretty face leaning over him, and, in the +background, Bastringuette, whose eyes seemed to express a wish to speak +to him.</p> + +<p>"Oh! what joy!" cried Elina; "you have slept till much later to-day. +It's almost eleven o'clock. Luckily, I had a dress to deliver, so I was +able to come back."</p> + +<p>"And I feel much better," said Paul.</p> + +<p>Bastringuette seized the opportunity, when she was giving the invalid +his draught, to whisper in his ear:</p> + +<p>"Your errand is done. She has the hundred francs."</p> + +<p>Paul could not reply, but his look expressed his satisfaction. From that +day the fever abated, and the young man soon became convalescent.</p> + +<h2><a name="XXVIII" id="XXVIII"></a>XXVIII<br /><br /> +<small>THE INEVITABLE HAPPENS</small></h2> + +<p>It was only a few days since Albert had returned to Paris, and he had +hardly had time to see his closest friends, when he disappeared again, +and no one knew the reason of his abrupt departure.</p> + +<p>When the jovial Mouillot chanced to meet Balivan or Dupétrain or +Célestin, it rarely happened that they did not discuss the conduct of +young Vermoncey.</p> + +<p>"What sort of a life is he leading now?" said Mouillot; "he goes off, +and is gone nearly three months; then he<a name="vol_4_page_093" id="vol_4_page_093"></a> comes back, we see him two or +three times, and off he goes again without a word, just at the beginning +of winter, when all sorts of amusements have centred in the capital."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Célestin, who had not given out that he had had a definitive +rupture with Albert, contented himself with some such reply as this:</p> + +<p>"As I have been entirely unable to understand Albert's moods of late, I +have seen very much less of him. He's a queer fish: one of those people +who fly into a passion without any idea what it's all about; and I +bother my head very little as to what he does or what becomes of him!"</p> + +<p>"For my part," said Balivan, "I am very fond of the fellow. He's +heedless and light-headed, but I am sure that he's as straight as a +string, and he's most obliging. He's a mighty bright fellow, too; and if +he'd like, I'd be glad to take a trip to Italy with him."</p> + +<p>"If Monsieur Albert had chosen," said Monsieur Dupétrain, "he would have +made a first-class subject for magnetism; he had just the right look in +his eyes to put himself in communication with a somnambulist."</p> + +<p>"How about the fair lady that you were paying court to not long ago?" +said Monsieur Célestin, in a sarcastic tone; "have you magnetized her?"</p> + +<p>"Madame Baldimer? No; I tried, but I couldn't make it work; she's a +woman who is absolutely free from nervousness."</p> + +<p>They asked one another about Tobie Pigeonnier also, who was still +undiscoverable.</p> + +<p>"Gad!" said Mouillot; "I wouldn't give five sous for that olive stone +that poor Monsieur Varinet persists in carrying about in his purse."</p> + +<p>Madame Plays was not disturbed about Albert, but she was fully +determined to be revenged on little Tobie, who<a name="vol_4_page_094" id="vol_4_page_094"></a> had hoodwinked her so +completely with his alleged duel and was responsible for her having +exhaled an odor of tobacco for two months. Every morning, she sent for a +carriage, entered it with her husband, and took him to a shooting +gallery, thence to a fencing school; and there the submissive husband +was compelled to practise an hour with the pistol, and another hour with +the sword; and his wife constantly scolded him because he could never +succeed in hitting the target or in learning to parry a thrust.</p> + +<p>Poor Monsieur Plays would return home tired to death.</p> + +<p>"My dear love," he would say to his wife, "I assure you that I prefer to +learn whist; I understand it much better than I do fencing."</p> + +<p>"Whether you understand it or not," the fair Herminie would reply, +"you've got to fight with that little Tobie, who isn't likely to be very +formidable. Remember, monsieur, that you are to challenge him, wherever +you meet him!"</p> + +<p>And Monsieur Plays would bend his head with an air of resignation; and +when he was on the street, or driving, if he saw a man who resembled +Tobie, he would hasten away in the opposite direction.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, two months had passed since Sans-Cravate had found his +sister, only to lose her again at once. During that time the messenger +had called frequently at Monsieur Vermoncey's, to ask if he had heard +from his son, and if he knew where he had taken his sister. But Albert +had written only two letters to his father; they were very short, and +did not mention the girl he had abducted. One was dated in Alsace, and +the other in Switzerland; he simply said that he was travelling, and +gave no address.<a name="vol_4_page_095" id="vol_4_page_095"></a></p> + +<p>As time passed, Sans-Cravate's hopes grew fainter and fainter; often, +after questioning Monsieur Vermoncey, he would shake his head sadly, and +mutter:</p> + +<p>"This looks bad! I tell you, monsieur, I'm very much afraid Monsieur +Albert don't intend to do what's right. I don't like this keeping my +sister away from me and preventing her from writing—for if he didn't +forbid her to do it, I'm sure she'd have let me know where she is before +this. And then, his not making any attempt to get you to forgive him for +what he's done! I'm only a poor devil, without any education, but it +don't seem to me that all that looks like a purpose to keep his +promises."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey strove to reassure him, saying:</p> + +<p>"You can always rely on my word!"</p> + +<p>And the messenger would return to his stand, reflecting thus:</p> + +<p>"The father's an honorable man, that's sure; he'll never go back on what +he says; but what good does it do me to have the father's word, if the +son don't keep his?"</p> + +<p>Since he had seen his sister, since he had conceived the hope that she +would be received into the Vermoncey family, Sans-Cravate had entirely +changed his ways: he no longer drank too much; he had ceased to frequent +wine shops; he was neither quarrelsome nor noisy as before; lastly, he +had ceased to consort with Jean Ficelle, and all that worthy's +insistence was powerless to induce him to leave his place or neglect his +work.</p> + +<p>Once only he had met Paul, who was then convalescent, and was crawling +painfully along, on Bastringuette's arm; for it was the middle of the +day, when Elina could not be with her lover.</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate felt that he quivered all over, and that his hand trembled, +when he saw his former comrade's<a name="vol_4_page_096" id="vol_4_page_096"></a> pale, emaciated face. If Paul had been +alone, it is probable that Sans-Cravate would have thrown his arms about +him and begged him to forgive the injury he had done him; but the +presence of Bastringuette reawakened all the pangs of jealousy in his +heart, and he walked quickly away, cursing anew his former friend and +his former mistress.</p> + +<p>But, whether because he was still too weak to work, or because he +preferred not to encounter the man who had nearly killed him, Paul did +not return to his former stand.</p> + +<p>The cold was sharp, the snow fell in large flakes, and the people on the +streets and the boulevard walked quickly and did not often stop. +Sans-Cravate was in his place, seated on his <i>crochets</i>; on his head was +a broad-brimmed woollen hat, which protected him from the snow; but, +despite the severity of the weather, his neck was bare, as on the +warmest day in summer.</p> + +<p>"I say, well-named!" cried Jean Ficelle, as he drew near, blowing on his +fingers; "do you propose to stay here just to let the snow fall on your +nose? This is no weather for customers to take the trouble to come after +us. Let's go and get under cover in a wine shop."</p> + +<p>"No, I'm done with wine shops," replied Sans-Cravate, shortly.</p> + +<p>"Oho! so it's all up with you, is it? You're not a man at all; you've +forgotten how to laugh or drink or play cards. Good-day! you're lost to +society."</p> + +<p>Jean Ficelle walked away. Sans-Cravate had not been alone on the corner +three minutes, when, in spite of the bad weather, a young woman in a +coquettish little cap and silk apron, and struggling with a large +umbrella to shelter her from the snow, walked up to the messenger and +said to him:<a name="vol_4_page_097" id="vol_4_page_097"></a></p> + +<p>"Are you Monsieur Sans-Cravate?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, mamzelle."</p> + +<p>"My mistress would like to speak to you right away."</p> + +<p>"Your mistress! Oh! I guess I know you; aren't you with a lady who lives +in Rue Neuve-Vivienne?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, with Madame Baldimer."</p> + +<p>"That's the name."</p> + +<p>"Will you come?"</p> + +<p>"Right away, mamzelle."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate followed the lady's-maid, and as he walked along he +remembered that he had often carried letters for Albert to the lady in +question; he presumed that she had been the mistress of his sister's +seducer, and he wondered what she could have to say to him. The thought +disturbed and worried him, and he had a feeling of something like terror +as he entered the house, which he recognized perfectly.</p> + +<p>Mademoiselle Rosa showed the messenger into her mistress's apartment, +instead of leaving him, as usual, in the anteroom; in the small salon, +she pointed to a chair and said:</p> + +<p>"Sit down and wait; madame will come directly."</p> + +<p>When the maid had left him, Sans-Cravate looked about in surprise; he +was exceedingly curious to know what this lady, who made him wait in a +salon, could possibly have to say to him. Soon a door opened, and Madame +Baldimer appeared.</p> + +<p>She was handsomely dressed, as always, but her face was paler than +usual, and her mind seemed to be absorbed by unpleasant thoughts. Having +made sure that all the doors were closed, she walked toward +Sans-Cravate, and, motioning to him to remain seated, took a chair and +placed it in front of him.<a name="vol_4_page_098" id="vol_4_page_098"></a></p> + +<p>The messenger was confounded; he hardly dared to raise his eyes to the +beautiful woman's face, but waited for her to explain herself. She +speedily broke the silence.</p> + +<p>"You are Sans-Cravate?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, madame."</p> + +<p>"But that name is only a sobriquet which your comrades have given you; +your true name is Étienne Renaud, and you are of Auvergne?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, madame."</p> + +<p>"You have a sister, of whom a lady at Clermont took charge, and that +sister, who is now seventeen years old and very pretty, a young man from +Paris fell in love with; he seduced her, ran away with her——"</p> + +<p>"What, madame!—you know?"</p> + +<p>"I know everything; I know all about Albert's conduct. Keep your seat, +and listen to me. For a long time past, led by motives which you cannot +understand, I have had Albert's every movement watched. I knew of his +return to Paris a little more than two months ago; and of your sister's +residence on Rue de Grenelle-Saint-Germain, and of her removal. Lastly, +I know of your interview on Rue Grange-aux-Belles."</p> + +<p>"But who can have told you—unless it was my sister—or Monsieur +Albert?"</p> + +<p>"Neither the one nor the other! Mon Dieu! you are a messenger, and yet +you do not know that by the free use of money one can be informed of +every act of a person whom one chooses to have watched! Now, listen to +me: you flattered yourself that Albert would keep the promise he made +your sister, that he would repair the wrong he had done her, by marrying +her. He will do nothing of the sort. Albert is like most young men, +inconstant and unfaithful. Possession very soon<a name="vol_4_page_099" id="vol_4_page_099"></a> extinguishes his love. +He was very much in love with your sister when he abducted her, but now +he would cry out at the idea of being faithful to her; as for marrying +her, he never dreamed of it; and since he has learned that Adeline is +the sister of a messenger, he can't understand how anyone else can dream +of such a marriage."</p> + +<p>"The coward! the sneak!"</p> + +<p>"And now, what do you suppose he has done, after travelling with your +sister for two months, regretting his liberty and the pleasures of Paris +every day, and cursing his folly?"</p> + +<p>"Finish, madame, finish!"</p> + +<p>"He has hired a little cottage at Lagny for the poor girl, and, after +giving her a sum of money and promising to return, he has left her +there, fully determined never to see her again."</p> + +<p>"Great God! the villain! Ah! if that was true!"</p> + +<p>"It is all true, and it rests only with you to be with your sister in a +very short time. Here is her address at Lagny, on this paper; if you +need money, take this purse. Take it; I am not offering you alms, but +assisting you to avenge your sister, because your revenge is mine as +well; because, if you have an outrage to wipe out, I have a crime, an +infamous crime, to punish, and I have sworn a solemn oath to attain my +object."</p> + +<p>"I shall attain mine too, but I don't need money for that, madame," +replied Sans-Cravate, pushing away the purse.</p> + +<p>"At all events, you will not refuse these pistols; I fancy that they may +be necessary to you."</p> + +<p>As she spoke, Madame Baldimer took from her belt a magnificent pair of +pistols and offered them to the messenger, fastening her eyes upon him, +already aflame with the hope of vengeance.<a name="vol_4_page_100" id="vol_4_page_100"></a></p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate pounced upon the weapons, crying:</p> + +<p>"Ah! yes, madame; yes, these are what I want most of all! But where is +he? where is he hiding? you must know that too. Oh! I mustn't let him +escape me now!"</p> + +<p>"Never fear; trust to me to bring you together. At this moment he is +prowling about the outskirts of Paris; but he is likely to return at any +time, for he is terribly bored to have to stay away. Wait until he is in +Paris; I will let you know of his arrival. But go at once to your +sister. Remember that she is alone, abandoned, and that she dares not +appeal to you now."</p> + +<p>"Ah! you are right, madame; poor Liline! I will go to her at once, and +bring her back with me; this time she shan't leave me, I promise you."</p> + +<p>"I anticipated your answer. Take this paper; at this address you will +find a man with a carriage. I have engaged him for you, and he will take +you to Lagny and bring you back with your sister."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, madame, thanks a thousand times! I am off. My little Liline, +who believed so fully in his promises! But you will surely let me know, +madame, as soon as he's in Paris?"</p> + +<p>"You cannot doubt it."</p> + +<p>"If I'm not at my stand, I live on Rue Saint-Lazare, corner of Rue +Saint-Georges."</p> + +<p>"I know where you live; and I tell you again that, as soon as Albert is +in Paris, I will send you word."</p> + +<p>"I count on it, madame; now, I will hurry off and get my sister; after +that, I will find a way to avenge her."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate put the pistols in his pocket; Madame Baldimer handed him +the address, and he ran at full speed to the place indicated, where he +found a carriage waiting; he jumped in, and shouted to the driver:<a name="vol_4_page_101" id="vol_4_page_101"></a></p> + +<p>"To Lagny! you have been notified, engaged for me. Go at full speed, +kill your horses; I am going after my poor sister, and then I'm going to +kill the blackguard who seduced her, unless he consents to marry her."</p> + +<p>The driver seemed indifferent to all this; but as he had been well paid, +he drove rapidly and hardly stopped on the road; so that Sans-Cravate +arrived at Lagny in a very short time.</p> + +<p>He glanced at the address Madame Baldimer had given him, and inquired of +a village woman, who directed him to "The Poplars," which was the name +of the cottage he sought. He pointed out an inn and said to the driver:</p> + +<p>"Go there and feed your horses; but do it at once and take what you want +yourself in a hurry, for I shall return soon with my sister, and you +must take us back to Paris on the run."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate followed the directions he had received, and soon +discovered a pretty little cottage surrounded by tall poplar trees, +whose topmost branches waved back and forth over the roof. It had the +aspect of a bourgeois residence; the shutters were painted green, there +was a pretty gate, and flowering plants were in profusion on all sides.</p> + +<p>"He was bound to give her a pretty cage, the villain!" thought +Sans-Cravate, as he drew near to the house, "hoping that she would like +it and keep quiet. Ah! he forgot that she had a brother, and that that +brother is Sans-Cravate!"</p> + +<p>The messenger rang at the gate, and a peasant girl answered the bell.</p> + +<p>"Where is my sister? take me to my sister!" cried Sans-Cravate, pushing +the girl roughly before him. She stared at him with a terrified +expression; she thought that she had<a name="vol_4_page_102" id="vol_4_page_102"></a> to do with a robber, and she was +on the point of shrieking and calling for help. But Adeline had already +appeared in the doorway, for, whenever the bell rang, she flattered +herself that Albert had returned; she ran forward when she saw that it +was a man; then fell into Sans-Cravate's arms, murmuring in a voice +stifled by joy and tears:</p> + +<p>"It is my brother! Oh! he will not abandon me!"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate gazed at his sister, whose pale, thin face had undergone so +great a change in two months that he would have hesitated before +recognizing her.</p> + +<p>Adeline led him into a room on the ground floor, and there, gazing at +him anew, with her eyes full of tears, she said:</p> + +<p>"You are angry with me, of course; the last time I saw you, you made me +promise to wait for you, and, in spite of that, I went away. But he came +back—and when he learned that I had found you, and that you had gone to +beg his father to forgive us, he cried out that that was ridiculous, +that his father would be furious, that he would separate us or prevent +him from seeing me, and that there was nothing for us to do but leave +Paris at once; I believed him—he urged me so hard—and I went with him. +We travelled a long time; I kept imploring him to write to you to find +out if you had been successful with his father, but he told me we must +wait. At last, about a week ago, he brought me here, to this house, told +me that I should have everything I desired, left me a lot of money, and +went away, saying that he would return soon; so I am always expecting +him, and when you rang I thought it was he."</p> + +<p>"Poor sister!" said Sans-Cravate, gazing mournfully at the girl, who +tried to banish the traces of her tears with a smile; "you will wait for +him in vain; he won't<a name="vol_4_page_103" id="vol_4_page_103"></a> come back, the dastard! he has abandoned you, +because he don't mean to repair his crime."</p> + +<p>"O my God! can it be possible that Albert doesn't love me? It can't be +true!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! you had guessed it already, I am sure; your pale face, the terrible +change in your features since our last meeting, your eyes all red from +crying. Oh! you've been unhappy, you've been grieving a long +time—that's easy to see."</p> + +<p>"Well! yes, brother; I admit that I have noticed for some time that +Albert was not so pleasant and loving with me; in fact, he no longer +seemed happy, but I thought he was afraid of his father's anger."</p> + +<p>"His father! why, he has consented to your marriage."</p> + +<p>"Can that be true? what happiness!"</p> + +<p>"No, no, my poor Liline, don't be happy too soon! for it is your seducer +himself who refuses to wipe out his crime and make you his wife."</p> + +<p>"He refuses—Albert! Oh! no, my dear brother, that is impossible; at all +events, when he knows—and I haven't dared to tell him that yet—I hoped +to make him very happy when he came back, with such a pleasant +surprise—ah! brother, when he knows that I am going to be a mother, do +you think he will refuse to give a name to his child?"</p> + +<p>As she spoke, Adeline hid her face on her brother's shoulder, and he +held her for a moment in his arms.</p> + +<p>"A mother!" he murmured; "you, a mother! Ah! yes, he must be +hard-hearted indeed to abandon you if that is so; and yet—the young men +of these days care as little about leaving a poor girl in trouble as +they do about changing a coat. Never mind; I'll see this gentleman, I'll +speak to him, and, sacrebleu! if he has any<a name="vol_4_page_104" id="vol_4_page_104"></a> decent feelings left, I'll +rake 'em up from the bottom of his heart. But meanwhile you must go with +me; we must start this very minute."</p> + +<p>"I must leave here—but suppose Albert should come back?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you be alarmed! he'll be in Paris before long, and Paris is where +I'm going to take you. Remember that you must trust me, believe what I +say, and obey me. You know perfectly well that I won't deceive you; you +know that your happiness and the honor of our family are what I care +most about."</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, I do know it, brother."</p> + +<p>"Then do what I tell you. Make haste and get together what things belong +to you. But leave all the money and jewels that man has given you; for +we'll show him that he's mistaken if he thinks he can pay for your +dishonor with them. If he deserts you, you will stay with me; I have +strong arms, and I'm no longer the sot and loafer I used to be. No, no; +I've had troubles of my own, you see; and trouble is like lead—it makes +your head heavy. I'll tell you about it some day; meanwhile, I'll work +to support you—and your child—and what I give you won't make you +blush, at any rate. Go and do what I say, and be quick; there's a +carriage waiting for us."</p> + +<p>Adeline made no reply, but hastened to do her brother's bidding; she +very soon got her things together and made a package of them, which +Sans-Cravate took under one arm; he supported his sister with the other +and said to the peasant, who stared at them with a stupefied expression:</p> + +<p>"If the gentleman comes back and asks for the young lady he brought +here, tell him that she went away with her brother—her brother, do you +hear? As for her<a name="vol_4_page_105" id="vol_4_page_105"></a> money and jewelry, he'll find them upstairs;—for you +haven't taken any of 'em, have you, Liline?"</p> + +<p>"No, brother," replied the girl, putting her hand to her breast; +"nothing, except this little souvenir, with some of his hair in it."</p> + +<p>As she spoke, she showed him a small glass locket, set in gold, in which +there was a lock of hair. But Sans-Cravate put out his hand to take it, +crying:</p> + +<p>"No, no; keep nothing that came from him! What do you want of this +souvenir?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! brother, let me keep it, I beg you!" faltered the girl, falling on +her knees; "for if he casts me off, it will be the only thing I shall +have to give my child; he will have nothing else that belongs to his +father!"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate raised his sister, and turned his head aside so that she +might not see the tears which he wiped away with his sleeve.</p> + +<p>"All right! keep it," he said; "but let us go," and he led his sister +away.</p> + +<p>They soon reached the place where the carriage awaited them. +Sans-Cravate helped his sister in, took his place beside her, and said +to the driver:</p> + +<p>"Now for Paris, corner of Rue Saint-Lazare and Rue Saint-Georges; a +magnificent house, between a fruiterer and a grocer. If you go fast, +I'll pay for a good big drink for you."</p> + +<p>It was dark, and the journey was melancholy enough; for the brother and +sister, both of whom were suffering the same torments, did not choose to +talk about them, each for fear of increasing the other's unhappiness.</p> + +<p>They arrived at last; Sans-Cravate kept his promise to the driver, and +would have given him money too; but he declined it, for he was paid in +advance. He drove away<a name="vol_4_page_106" id="vol_4_page_106"></a> with his carriage, and the messenger, taking his +sister's hand, said to her:</p> + +<p>"Follow me, and we'll climb up to my diggings. Look you: don't expect to +find anything very fine, and you'll be less surprised."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate's lodging would have made an excellent pendant for +Bastringuette's: it was under the eaves, like hers, and consisted of a +bedroom and a closet; there was just the same amount of furniture, not a +piece more; yet there was a vast difference between them, and they had +not the same aspect at all: Sans-Cravate's quarters were as dirty and +disordered as the flower girl's were clean and neat.</p> + +<p>Having procured a light, the messenger said to his sister, who was +looking sadly about:</p> + +<p>"<i>Dame!</i> this is pretty bad, eh? you don't find any nice furniture here, +like what your seducer gave you. But you're in your brother's room, and +you can give your address without blushing."</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! dear brother," replied the girl, seizing the messenger's +hand, "you are mistaken if you think that I regret the luxurious life I +have been leading. What do I care whether my furniture is walnut or +mahogany? I never placed any value on that. Ah! the most beautiful +apartment is the one to which one brings a joyful heart!"</p> + +<p>"You are right, Liline. When the heart is satisfied, everything seems +beautiful! But, still, it didn't use to be so bad here—because it was +neat and clean and well dusted; there was a person who undertook to take +care of my room, but—that person don't come any more, and since then I +haven't had the heart to look after it—so it ain't surprising that it +looks the way it does!"<a name="vol_4_page_107" id="vol_4_page_107"></a></p> + +<p>"Well! I'll take that person's place, my dear, and you will see that I +too know something about keeping house."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate kissed his sister and installed her in his room; he gave +her his bed, reserving for himself the closet, where he meant to throw a +few bundles of straw on the floor; he was not hard to suit, and, so long +as his sister could sleep tranquilly, he would be comfortable anywhere.</p> + +<p>After a night which seemed very long to them both, because grief and +anxiety banished sleep from their eyelids, Sans-Cravate left his closet +on tiptoe and listened: his sister had fallen into a doze. He walked +softly, in order not to rouse her, and placed on the table beside the +bed all the money he possessed.</p> + +<p>"There's enough for a little while," he thought; "our expenses won't be +very large. I've put a few pieces away, thank God! since I've stopped +going to the wine shop, and with Jean Ficelle; I'm mighty proud to have +'em to give her to-day. I'm beginning to think that it ain't the +drinking men that have the most fun, but that the pleasures that work +affords a man are the best and last the longest."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate went to his usual place, where he sat down and waited.</p> + +<p>"She promised to send me word," he said to himself, "as soon as he's +back in Paris, and I'm sure she'll keep her word; for that woman looks +to me like a hussy who has thought a long while about what she intended +to do, and who won't falter on the road."</p> + +<p>The day passed, and brought no change in the situation of the messenger +and his sister. After sawing a cord of wood and doing several errands, +Sans-Cravate returned to his sister and gave her the money he had +earned.<a name="vol_4_page_108" id="vol_4_page_108"></a></p> + +<p>"Here," he said, "this is what I'll do every day, and you must look +after the food."</p> + +<p>"And Albert?" queried the girl, sadly.</p> + +<p>"No news. Patience. We must wait."</p> + +<p>"But his father—why haven't you been to see him?"</p> + +<p>"I have no business with the father now, but with the son; the father +ain't the one who's got to marry you! He's given his consent, that's all +we can ask of him; he can't force the young man."</p> + +<p>"Force him! Oh! I don't want him to be forced, if he no longer loves me; +he would be unhappy after he married me."</p> + +<p>"Don't you worry, and don't you bother your head any more about it. It's +my business now."</p> + +<p>Liline wept and held her peace. Sans-Cravate let her weep, because his +own experience taught him that there are griefs which admit of no +consolation.</p> + +<p>The next day, Sans-Cravate had been at his stand less than an hour when +he saw Madame Baldimer's maid coming toward him. His heart gave a leap +under his waistcoat, because he felt that he was about to learn +something of importance.</p> + +<p>Rosa went up to him and handed him a folded paper.</p> + +<p>"My mistress told me to give you this," she said.</p> + +<p>"Thanks, mamzelle," replied Sans-Cravate, taking the paper with a +trembling hand.</p> + +<p>The maid walked away, while the messenger unfolded the paper and read +these words:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"He arrived last night; he is at home."</p></div> + +<p>"At last!" exclaimed Sans-Cravate, crumpling the paper in his fingers; +then he sprang to his feet, folded<a name="vol_4_page_109" id="vol_4_page_109"></a> his <i>crochets</i>, and strode away +toward Albert's residence. He was intensely excited, although he exerted +himself to the utmost to control his emotion. He felt that his sister's +future was about to be decided, and it was for her that he trembled.</p> + +<p>Under the porte cochère he stopped, uncertain whether he ought not to +call first upon Monsieur Vermoncey. But he reflected that, if Albert's +father were warned of his intention, he would have his son watched and +would prevent him from giving him satisfaction; and the result of his +reflections was that he ought now to deal with Albert alone.</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate went rapidly up to the young man's apartment. He rang, and +a new servant opened the door.</p> + +<p>"I wish to speak to Monsieur Albert," said Sans-Cravate.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Albert is not in," replied the servant, in an almost insolent +tone.</p> + +<p>"He must be, for me."</p> + +<p>"But my master returned from travelling last night. He is tired, and +cannot receive anyone."</p> + +<p>"He will receive me, for I must speak to him. Go and tell him that +Sans-Cravate is here, and that I won't leave the house without seeing +him. He must know that we have got to have an interview, and it's better +to have it now. Go, my boy. I know that there's two entrances, but I've +got my eye on the courtyard; and if your master should try to skip, I'll +jump through the window and land on his shoulders; that would interfere +with his running."</p> + +<p>The servant stared at Sans-Cravate in amazement, but went and told his +master. He returned in a very short<a name="vol_4_page_110" id="vol_4_page_110"></a> time, beckoned to Sans-Cravate to +follow him, and ushered him into Albert's bedroom.</p> + +<p>Young Vermoncey had just risen; he was dressed in a robe de chambre, and +was lying back carelessly in a capacious easy-chair. His face was +slightly pale when Sans-Cravate entered the room; but he seemed +perfectly placid, and said, with an unembarrassed manner, and with +something very like a smile:</p> + +<p>"Is it you, Sans-Cravate? I expected a call from you. Come and sit down, +and let us have a talk."</p> + +<p>Surprised at this reception, which aroused the most cheering hopes in +his heart, Sans-Cravate seated himself on the edge of the chair that the +young man indicated, and stammered:</p> + +<p>"Yes—yes, Monsieur Albert, it's me. You certainly had good reason to +think I would come; for, you see, this thing's got to be settled! And I +love my sister, my poor Liline, so dearly! But I hope that you still +love her, too?"</p> + +<p>Albert threw himself back in his chair and held his feet to the fire, as +he replied:</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear Sans-Cravate; your sister is fascinating—and as gentle +and sweet as an angel. I loved her dearly, and I still love her. So I +mean her to be happy—that is my most earnest desire."</p> + +<p>"Oh! then it's all right, monsieur!" cried the messenger, joyfully; "you +mean to make my sister happy—that is to say, you will keep the promise +you made to her when you took her away from Auvergne. Ah! you make me +very happy, too, and you are an excellent young man."</p> + +<p>"When I say that I want to see your sister happy, Sans-Cravate," +rejoined Albert, balancing himself in his<a name="vol_4_page_111" id="vol_4_page_111"></a> chair, "I mean that, to atone +for my thoughtlessness, I propose to assure her comfort, her future. If +I made promises, they were mere words, such as all young men say to +pretty girls, which do not bind one to anything."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate pushed his chair away; he turned pale, but fastened his +eyes on Albert, and exclaimed, without a trace of his former hesitation:</p> + +<p>"We have got to a point where we don't agree, but, <i>sacrédié!</i> we must +settle on something. Monsieur Albert, didn't you seduce my sister, a +simple, innocent maid, who had no idea of love? Will you deny that you +abused her innocence, and that you induced her to leave her home and her +patroness, only by swearing that you would marry her?"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! I won't deny anything! I have told you already that I admit +all that. But, once more, every young man takes fifty such oaths; so +much the worse for those who believe them!"</p> + +<p>"Then you don't intend to marry my sister?"</p> + +<p>Albert threw himself back in his chair again and began to laugh.</p> + +<p>"Marry your sister!" he exclaimed. "Nonsense, Sans-Cravate! Why, you +can't think of such a thing! Would such a marriage be well-assorted? +Come, be reasonable; you are an excellent fellow—I have no doubt of +that; but what would people say if I should make you my brother-in-law? +They would say that I'd gone crazy!"</p> + +<p>"Take care, monsieur!" said Sans-Cravate, struggling to control his +anger. "Don't throw insults in my face. Messenger as I am, I'm a better +man than you are at this moment!"</p> + +<p>"But, for God's sake, Sans-Cravate, listen to me! Is it possible for a +young man to marry all the women he<a name="vol_4_page_112" id="vol_4_page_112"></a> makes love to? Since when have your +morals been so severe? Haven't you been in the habit of carrying my love +letters for me? haven't you been in the secret of all my intrigues? You +knew that I had three or four mistresses at once, and, far from blaming +me, you were the first to laugh about it."</p> + +<p>"True—you are right, monsieur. I did your dirty work for you. I was +wrong—and there was someone who told me so at the time. And yet, that +same someone deceived me."</p> + +<p>"I tell you again, Sans-Cravate, that I am sorry I ever spoke to your +sister, who was an innocent, virtuous girl. But still we must have mercy +on all sinners. Once more, I will settle a handsome allowance on her, +and——"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate rose and stamped on the floor, crying:</p> + +<p>"Ten thousand devils! Don't talk about money! You fine gentlemen think +you have done everything, when you have undone the strings of your +purse. I tell you that marriage, and nothing else, can undo the wrong +you have done. Your father felt it, for he gave his consent to the +marriage. So you see, monsieur, there's nothing to prevent it."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Albert, with some irritation, "I know that you have seen my +father and extorted his consent; furthermore, I will not deny that, when +I came home last night, after embracing me, he told me of the promise he +had given you; but I told him what my intentions were, and swore that +nothing would induce me to change them."</p> + +<p>"Nothing!" muttered Sans-Cravate; "nothing! Not even if I should tell +you that you are a father—that my sister is carrying a child—that she +implores you to give it its father's name? and that is the truth!"<a name="vol_4_page_113" id="vol_4_page_113"></a></p> + +<p>Albert lowered his eyes; he was deeply moved, and tried in vain to +conceal his emotion. Sans-Cravate walked toward him.</p> + +<p>"Well! will you cast off that innocent creature?"</p> + +<p>Albert was silent for some moments. At last he replied, in a low voice:</p> + +<p>"I will provide for the child as well as the mother. But I cannot—it is +impossible for me to marry Adeline, for such a marriage would cover me +with ridicule."</p> + +<p>"That is your last word, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sans-Cravate."</p> + +<p>The messenger took from his pocket the pistols Madame Baldimer had given +him, and called Albert's attention to them.</p> + +<p>"Then this is my last word," he said. "I am ready when you are."</p> + +<p>The young man seemed more surprised than alarmed.</p> + +<p>"What's this? do you want to fight me, Sans-Cravate?" he said, glancing +at the weapons.</p> + +<p>"That surprises you, does it? You thought that I would allow myself to +be dishonored and say nothing; that I would be satisfied with your +excuses? No, no, I must have something more than that. Come, I am +waiting for you, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry, Sans-Cravate, that I cannot give you the satisfaction you +ask; but it is out of the question. A young man in my position doesn't +fight duels with a messenger!"</p> + +<p>"Then a man of your position is content to be a coward and a blackguard. +Then he prefers to be struck and beaten and strangled; and that's what +I'll do to you, if you refuse to fight me."</p> + +<p>As he spoke, Sans-Cravate, beside himself with rage, sprang at Albert, +seized him by the collar, shook him<a name="vol_4_page_114" id="vol_4_page_114"></a> violently, and struck him across +the face with the butt of one of his pistols. The young man turned +purple, and shouted:</p> + +<p>"I will fight you, monsieur; yes, you are right; we must fight."</p> + +<p>"Ah! that's very lucky!" said the messenger, relaxing his grasp. "Shall +it be right away? I'm in a hurry, you see!"</p> + +<p>"One always has some arrangements to make before fighting, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"I haven't got any."</p> + +<p>"I will be ready in two hours. It isn't nine o'clock yet; at eleven, at +the latest, be——"</p> + +<p>"Behind Romainville Forest, on the slope from Pantin; there are some +quarries near there, and we shan't be disturbed."</p> + +<p>"Very good; I will be there. Shall you have a second?"</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"True; between us, seconds are unnecessary. I shall come in a carriage, +with my servant only."</p> + +<p>"As you choose. I will go and wait for you, monsieur, and I hope you +won't let me take cold."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate left the house and started at once for the rendezvous. He +walked less quickly now, knowing that he had plenty of time before him. +Moreover, he was less excited; the certainty that his vengeance was near +at hand appeased his anger. He reflected profoundly. At the moment one +is about to risk his life he remembers the persons whom it would be most +painful to him to leave forever; and, in spite of himself, Sans-Cravate +found that Bastringuette's face often forced its way in among his +recollections.<a name="vol_4_page_115" id="vol_4_page_115"></a></p> + +<p>It was hardly half-past ten when the messenger reached the spot agreed +upon. He sat on the ground and waited. He was on the slope of +Romainville Forest; at his feet were plaster kilns and a brick kiln; in +front of him was the village of Pantin; but the road in that direction, +bordered with high hedges enclosing gardens, was silent and deserted. To +the right were the low hills upon which stands the fortress that +commands the whole plain; and in the hollow at the left, four rows of +poplar trees, forming a rectangle, seemed to indicate a private estate +or a promenade: it was the Pantin cemetery.</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate let his eyes wander in all directions, but frequently +turned them toward Pantin, for that was the only direction from which a +carriage could reach the rendezvous; so he presumed that Albert would +come that way. He took his pistols from his pocket, made sure that they +were properly loaded, and heaved a profound sigh.</p> + +<p>The weather was fine, but cold. The trees were without leaves, and few +people passed through the wood; now and then, a peasant went down the +hill toward Pantin, a quarryman appeared at the door of his hut, or a +soldier on the fortifications; but none of them paid any attention to +the messenger.</p> + +<p>But as he looked about, Sans-Cravate saw a woman come out of the wood +and walk slowly down toward the cemetery. She was a long distance from +him, but he could tell by her dress and her bearing that she was not a +peasant. A large hat, over which a veil was thrown, made it impossible +to distinguish her features; and still Sans-Cravate said to himself as +he looked after her:</p> + +<p>"It seems to me that I know that woman."<a name="vol_4_page_116" id="vol_4_page_116"></a></p> + +<p>While he was trying to think who it could be, he heard the sound of +carriage wheels in the direction of Pantin; and in a moment a cab +appeared on the village street, and stopped as near as possible to the +foot of the hill leading to the wood.</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate paid no further attention to the woman; he hurried down the +slope and soon found himself face to face with Albert, who had left his +carriage.</p> + +<p>The young man greeted the messenger with a friendly nod, in which there +was no trace of resentment or anger, and said, pointing to the cemetery:</p> + +<p>"Let us go there; nobody but the men working in the brick kiln can see +us, and they will not think of interfering with us; on the contrary, +they will be grateful to us for affording them such an entertaining +spectacle."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate made no reply, but went with Albert; the servant walked +behind, carrying a case of pistols.</p> + +<p>When they reached the road that skirted the cemetery, Albert said:</p> + +<p>"I see no reason why we should go any farther.—Give me my pistols, +Joseph."</p> + +<p>The servant opened the case and, trembling like a leaf, handed the +pistols to his master. Meanwhile, the messenger, who had taken his from +his pocket, offered them to his adversary, saying:</p> + +<p>"Would you prefer to take one of these and give me one of yours? It +shall be as you choose."</p> + +<p>Albert glanced at Sans-Cravate's weapons, and exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"The devil! you have some very handsome pistols there, Sans-Cravate! +It's a strange thing, but the more I examine them, the more certain I +feel that I know them, that I have seen them somewhere."<a name="vol_4_page_117" id="vol_4_page_117"></a></p> + +<p>"It's quite possible, monsieur, for I got them from an acquaintance of +yours. It was Madame Baldimer who gave them to me."</p> + +<p>"Baldimer!" ejaculated Albert. "Ah! yes, it was in her hands that I saw +them. I can remember her saying to me laughingly, more than once: 'I +mean to kill you with these pistols.'—It seems that she did not say it +in jest. Clearly that woman has a bitter grudge against me.—Keep your +own weapons, and I will keep mine, and let us take our places."</p> + +<p>Albert walked away some fifteen paces, then asked:</p> + +<p>"Is this satisfactory to you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur," Sans-Cravate replied, in a trembling voice.</p> + +<p>"Pull yourself together, my poor Sans-Cravate; you seem agitated."</p> + +<p>"It's true, monsieur, I am trembling; though you may be sure that it +ain't with fear. I've never fought with anything but fists, you see. A +man gets hurt that way, but not killed. At all events, I never tried to +fight unfair. And when I think that with this little steel tube I may +kill you—— Look you, monsieur—if you would—it rests with you——"</p> + +<p>"Enough! enough, Sans-Cravate! let's not continue our conversation of +this morning. You are the insulted party—fire first."</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur; I won't begin."</p> + +<p>"It's your right."</p> + +<p>"I insulted you this morning, by shaking you; it's your place to begin."</p> + +<p>"Listen: my servant will clap his hands three times, and at the third we +will fire together."</p> + +<p>"That's all right."<a name="vol_4_page_118" id="vol_4_page_118"></a></p> + +<p>Albert told his servant what he was to do. He clapped his hands, turning +his head so that he could not see the combatants. At the third signal, +Sans-Cravate fired; there was no second report, but Albert fell in the +road.</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate ran to the young man, who had received the bullet in his +side and was bleeding freely. He threw himself on his knees, weeping; +but Albert held out his hand to him and tried to smile.</p> + +<p>"You have done your duty—don't be cut up. If I die, you will see that I +haven't forgotten your sister."</p> + +<p>"Oh! you won't die, I hope. This wound may not be fatal——"</p> + +<p>"Take me to the carriage, and tell them to take me back to my father."</p> + +<p>Albert had no strength to say more; he lost consciousness. Sans-Cravate +raised him from the ground, and two plasterers, attracted by the report +of the pistol, helped him to carry the wounded man to the carriage. +Sans-Cravate tried to stop the flow of blood by tying his handkerchief +over the wound. Joseph entered the carriage, and seated himself so that +he could support his master. Sans-Cravate thought of going with them, +but he felt that he lacked courage to take Albert back to his father, so +he allowed the carriage to drive away without him.</p> + +<p>Two hours had passed since the duel, and Sans-Cravate was still +wandering about the fields, uncertain what to do, and praying fervently +that Albert would not die of his wound. At last, he decided to return to +Paris. But when he reached the city, he dared not go to his sister; for +he feared that when she saw him she would divine what had happened, and +he did not wish to confess that he had fought with her seducer, until he +had some definite<a name="vol_4_page_119" id="vol_4_page_119"></a> information as to the wounded man's condition. To go +to his usual stand and remain there quietly would have been impossible +to him, so he wandered through the streets at random.</p> + +<p>When it began to grow dark, Sans-Cravate could restrain his impatience +no longer; he felt that he must know in what condition Albert was, so he +bent his steps toward his house.</p> + +<p>"The doctors must have given their opinions of his wound before now," he +thought; "I'll ask someone, and I won't go back to my sister till I am +satisfied about his condition."</p> + +<p>Having determined upon this course, Sans-Cravate was soon in front of +Monsieur Vermoncey's house on Rue Caumartin. The porte cochère was still +open; he went in, and stopped at the concierge's lodge, but found nobody +there; whereupon he decided to go upstairs and question the servants. +When he came to the door of Albert's apartment, it was not closed, and +he saw several lights in the anteroom; but he saw no person, although +the other doors were open; that solitude and confusion froze his heart, +for in it all there was a something silent and depressing which seemed +to denote the presence of death.</p> + +<p>The messenger did not know what to do, but he realized that he must +decide upon something. He entered the apartment, but walked very softly +and carefully, as if he were afraid of waking someone. He passed through +the room adjoining the anteroom, and was about to enter another room, +the door of which was open, when he heard a sound as of sobbing. He put +his head forward and saw Monsieur Vermoncey sitting in a chair, with his +face buried in his hands, and apparently in the throes of utter +despair.<a name="vol_4_page_120" id="vol_4_page_120"></a></p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate had no strength either to go forward or to retreat; his +legs gave way under him, he sank on a couch, and sat there, completely +overwhelmed; for he divined only too readily the cause of that wretched +father's grief.</p> + +<p>At that moment another door leading into the room where Monsieur +Vermoncey was, on the opposite side from Sans-Cravate, was suddenly +thrown open, and a woman appeared. The messenger recognized the figure +and the hat that had attracted his attention just before the duel. The +woman walked up to Monsieur Vermoncey, with a haughty air, threw aside +her hat and veil, and asked:</p> + +<p>"Do you recognize me, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate was petrified when he saw that it was Madame Baldimer. +Monsieur Vermoncey raised his eyes, which were filled with tears, and +seemed terror-stricken when they fell upon the person who stood before +him.</p> + +<p>"You are the woman, madame, who swore to accomplish my son's ruin, and +you have come doubtless to gloat over my despair; for my poor Albert is +dead! he breathed his last in my arms, only a moment after he was +brought home. But what had that unhappy boy done to you that you should +be so bent upon his destruction?"</p> + +<p>"He, monsieur—he had done nothing. Indeed, I could have loved him well, +if he had not been your son; but by depriving you of this last child, +the remaining fruit of your marriage, I have avenged my sister—my poor +Marie!"</p> + +<p>"Marie!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur; Marie Delbart, the young seamstress whom you seduced +before your marriage. She had a sister, ten years younger than herself, +whom a distant relative had taken with him to America."</p> + +<p>"Yes—I think I remember."<a name="vol_4_page_121" id="vol_4_page_121"></a></p> + +<p>"Marie must sometimes have spoken to you of that young sister, who loved +her as a daughter loves her mother, and who wept bitterly when she was +forced to leave her. Well, monsieur, before she died, Marie wrote me a +letter in which she told me the story of her misfortunes, begging me, if +I ever returned to France, to do my utmost to find her child and avenge +her on her unworthy seducer. That letter was not delivered to me until I +had attained my majority; that was in accordance with Marie's wish; but +I was then married to a wealthy planter, Monsieur Baldimer, who was much +older than I, but had raised me to a position I had never dared to hope +for. I should have liked to return to France at once, to carry out my +sister's wishes, but my husband was unwilling to take the journey, and I +had to wait. About fifteen months ago, Monsieur Baldimer died; I turned +all my property into cash and returned to France, my native land, having +taken an oath to fulfil Marie's last wishes. But to find her child was +almost impossible. She had remembered, however, the name of the midwife +who attended her when she became a mother, and who must have aided you +to carry out your shameful determination to send your son to the +Foundling Hospital. By dint of careful searching, I succeeded some time +ago in finding that woman, who is now very old."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey gazed at Madame Baldimer with an anxious expression, +and faltered:</p> + +<p>"You have found her! Ah! I have sought her in vain! Well, madame—go +on—that unfortunate child?——"</p> + +<p>"She remembered all the details of the affair. My sister was then living +at Saint-Cloud. When she carried the child away, ostensibly to a nurse, +but really in accordance with your orders, to Paris, to be brought up<a name="vol_4_page_122" id="vol_4_page_122"></a> +with all those unhappy creatures who have no family, that woman, +thinking that there ought to be some way of recognizing the child, if +you should ever want to see him again, burned a little cross on his left +forearm, and wrote on a slip of paper: 'His name is Paul de +Saint-Cloud.'"</p> + +<p>At those words, Sans-Cravate started in surprise and muttered:</p> + +<p>"Great God! is it possible?"</p> + +<p>But his movement and his exclamation were not heard, and Madame Baldimer +continued:</p> + +<p>"Armed with this information, I went to the asylum. After many +inquiries, I found out that the child who bore that name had been taken +away, ten years before, by a respectable tradesman, who had adopted him. +But the tradesman's name was half effaced, and it was impossible for me +to learn anything more definite.—As for you, monsieur, it was easy +enough for me to learn all about you. I learned that, after having a +numerous family, you had lost your wife and three of your children, and +that you had only one son left, on whom all your love was lavished; and +I said to myself that divine justice, which had already taken away three +of your children, ought not to leave you this last one, since you had +cast off the one my poor sister gave you. You see, monsieur, I was +justified in relying upon divine justice."</p> + +<p>"Enough! enough, madame!" murmured Monsieur Vermoncey, covering his face +with his hands. "Ah! I am severely punished for a fault of my youth. My +Albert is no more. I am alone in the world, for I shall never succeed in +finding the child that Marie gave me, whom I would be only too happy now +to call my son! Ah! there is nothing left for me but to die, too."<a name="vol_4_page_123" id="vol_4_page_123"></a></p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey's voice grew fainter, and as he finished speaking he +succumbed to his grief and swooned. Madame Baldimer pulled the bellrope +and called for help; several servants hurried to the spot, and passed +Sans-Cravate on their way to their master.</p> + +<p>The messenger took advantage of the confusion to leave the room where he +was; and he went forth from the apartment and the house without +attracting attention. He walked slowly homeward; but as he was about to +enter his sister's presence, he stopped, for he realized that what he +had to tell her would deal her a cruel blow. He knew that he could +conceal the fact of Albert's death from her for some time, but sooner or +later she must be told, and Sans-Cravate reflected that it was never +well to postpone the news of a disaster; for then one always has before +one the prospect of a distressing scene to come; whereas, when once the +tears are shed, one can at least hope that time will dry them.</p> + +<p>Adeline was anxious about her brother, whom she had not seen since the +morning. When she heard him come in, she uttered a little cry of joy, +and would have run into his arms; but when she saw his pale, distressed +face, she paused and began to tremble, for she saw tears in his eyes as +well.</p> + +<p>"What has happened, in heaven's name?" she asked. "Have you seen Albert? +does he still refuse to see me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," murmured her brother, looking at the floor. "He cast you off, he +spoke contemptuously of you—and I have punished him for it."</p> + +<p>"O mon Dieu! what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"That you have no one but me to support you now; but I will never fail +you."<a name="vol_4_page_124" id="vol_4_page_124"></a></p> + +<p>Adeline was completely crushed; sobs choked her utterance; but at last +the tears came in torrents.</p> + +<p>"That is right," said her brother; "cry, my poor Liline, shed tears for +the fate of that young man who had more courage than honorable feeling; +and for me too, for I was compelled to punish him, and I shall always +have that terrible sight before my eyes. But remember that you are a +mother, and that you must live for your child."</p> + +<p>Despite his profound sorrow over Albert's death, Sans-Cravate's mind +constantly recurred to what he had learned concerning Paul, his former +comrade.</p> + +<p>"He's the man," he thought; "there's no doubt of it—he's Monsieur +Vermoncey's son, and it rests with me to give him the name and rank and +fortune that belong to him. But he deceived me shamefully; he took +Bastringuette away from me—the woman I loved—yes, and love still! He's +with her now, for I met him leaning on the faithless hussy's arm; and if +I helped him to a fortune, he'd enjoy it with her! No, no! <i>sacrédié!</i> +that shan't be. I ain't virtuous enough to return good for evil, and +I'll keep my secret!"<a name="vol_4_page_125" id="vol_4_page_125"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="XXIX" id="XXIX"></a>XXIX<br /><br /> +<small>A REPUTATION</small></h2> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey, wholly absorbed by his grief, lived in strict +retirement and saw no one; but, as he did not wish it known that his son +had been killed by a messenger,—for the knowledge might have led to a +disclosure of the duel, and would have reflected little credit on his +son's memory,—Monsieur Vermoncey, knowing that Albert's servant was the +only witness of that fatal event, had given Joseph a considerable sum +and sent him back to his province, after causing him to spread the +report through the neighborhood, and among his confrères, that his young +master had fought with one of his friends, after a quarrel of which he +did not know the subject. And no one had doubted the truth of the story, +because it was much more probable than that Albert had fought a duel +with a messenger.</p> + +<p>Nearly a month had passed since the events that resulted in Albert's +death, when a short, stout young man, dressed with ostentatious +elegance, alighted from a cabriolet one morning in front of Monsieur +Vermoncey's residence, and, having inserted his monocle in his eye to +make sure that he had made no mistake, entered the house and called out +to the concierge:</p> + +<p>"I am going up to see my friend Monsieur Albert Vermoncey; I believe he +has returned from his trip to Normandie, and I have a thousand things to +say to him."<a name="vol_4_page_126" id="vol_4_page_126"></a></p> + +<p>The concierge ran after Tobie Pigeonnier,—for it was he, transformed +into a showy and self-confident <i>lion</i>,—and stopped him at the foot of +the stairs, saying:</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! monsieur, don't go so fast; it's no use. Don't you know what +has happened?"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Poor Monsieur Albert is dead."</p> + +<p>"Dead! Great God!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur; he was killed in a duel."</p> + +<p>"Killed in a duel?"</p> + +<p>Tobie looked at the concierge with a doubtful expression, and tried to +read in the man's eyes whether he was making fun of him.</p> + +<p>"Look you, concierge," he continued; "are you quite sure of what you +say? Once before, there was a report that Albert had been killed in a +duel, and I know that was a lie."</p> + +<p>"Alas! monsieur, I am only too sure."</p> + +<p>"How long has he been dead?"</p> + +<p>"A month, the day after to-morrow, monsieur. I remember that fatal day +perfectly well; they brought the poor fellow home in a cab, with a +bullet in his side; I went for the doctor; and when he tried to take out +the bullet, the wounded man shut his eyes—and it was all over."</p> + +<p>"Albert had returned to Paris, then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur; he came back first after he'd been gone quite a long +while, but he only stayed about a week and then went off again. When he +fought this duel, he'd only come home the night before."</p> + +<p>"Whom did he fight with? what was it about?"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! monsieur, nobody knows; the poor young man died so soon; he +wasn't able to say anything; he didn't take anybody with him for a +second but Joseph,<a name="vol_4_page_127" id="vol_4_page_127"></a> his servant, who told us that his master fought a +duel with pistols near Pantin, with a young man he, Joseph, didn't know, +and who didn't have any second. You see, he hadn't been in Monsieur +Albert's service long. As to the cause of the quarrel, he didn't know +anything about it. I remember seeing a messenger go up to Monsieur +Albert's rooms that day; I suppose he came to bring the challenge. +That's all I know."</p> + +<p>"It's all very obscure. Where is this Joseph? I should like to talk with +him."</p> + +<p>"He's gone back to his province. As Monsieur Albert was dead, Monsieur +Vermoncey didn't keep him. Ah! that poor man—he's terribly broken up; +he don't go out, nor see anyone. But, if you'd like to try to see him, +monsieur——"</p> + +<p>"No, no, it's not necessary; I have no desire to disturb his +grief.—Well, as poor Albert is dead, there's nothing for me to do but +go away."</p> + +<p>Tobie Pigeonnier returned to his cabriolet, reflecting profoundly on +what he had learned. He alighted on Boulevard des Italiens, and stalked +proudly into Tortoni's, where he found Mouillot and Balivan, the two +loyal habitués.</p> + +<p>The young men exclaimed in surprise when they saw Tobie smilingly draw +near, take a seat at their table, and order chocolate, rolls and butter, +with the air of a man who is not afraid to spend his money.</p> + +<p>"Oh, heaven! oh, heaven! can I believe my eyes?" sang Mouillot; "'tis +he! 'tis he in very truth! he has not gone to Russia or the Marquesas, +as we supposed!"</p> + +<p>"And he is dressed like several milords," observed Balivan.</p> + +<p>"And he has come to withdraw his olive from circulation."<a name="vol_4_page_128" id="vol_4_page_128"></a></p> + +<p>"Yes, messieurs," rejoined Tobie; "I am rich—very rich; my aunt is +dead—that respectable lady of whom I have often spoken to you, and with +whom I expected to go into partnership. She is dead, and I am her heir; +she left me a magnificent business."</p> + +<p>"In what line?"</p> + +<p>"In all lines. I may go on with the business; I have not decided yet. As +for that unlucky olive, it isn't my fault that I haven't redeemed it +sooner; I don't know Monsieur Varinet's address."</p> + +<p>"You ought to have asked us."</p> + +<p>"I never meet you anywhere."</p> + +<p>"Bah! what a flimsy excuse! we are at this café every morning. But, +never mind; if you are anxious to pay Varinet, he is to join us here +soon."</p> + +<p>"Oh! then I'll wait for him."</p> + +<p>"And do you know that poor Albert——"</p> + +<p>"Is dead; yes, I know it."</p> + +<p>"Killed in a duel—and no one knows by whom! Isn't it a most +extraordinary thing?"</p> + +<p>Tobie pursed his lips, frowned, and gazed at the ceiling, murmuring:</p> + +<p>"Ah! things happen sometimes in the world that one can't talk about; but +people always end by discovering the truth! You surely can understand +that the man who killed Albert is not likely to go about boasting of it, +because he is probably much affected himself."</p> + +<p>And Tobie took out his handkerchief and blew his nose several times, +trying to make them think that he was weeping.</p> + +<p>Mouillot and Balivan stared at each other in amazement; and the former +muttered, under his breath:</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! it isn't possible!"<a name="vol_4_page_129" id="vol_4_page_129"></a></p> + +<p>Tobie was only at his fifth roll, when Monsieur Varinet arrived with +Dupétrain. The first bowed very coolly to Pigeonnier, but that gentleman +made haste to say to him:</p> + +<p>"I owe you no end of apologies, monsieur, for remaining in your debt so +long; but chance seemed to have determined to keep us apart; however, as +I have found you at last, I will, with your permission, settle my +account with you."</p> + +<p>Varinet lost no time in taking out his purse, overjoyed to be rid of the +olive stone, which he produced and handed to Tobie, saying:</p> + +<p>"Here is your fetich, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"I don't recognize it," said Tobie, scrutinizing the olive.</p> + +<p>"You have left it in my hands so long, monsieur," retorted the young man +with the white eyelashes, with some asperity, "that it has had ample +time to change. If you had redeemed it the next day, as the custom is +with gambling debts, it wouldn't have shrunk to its present size."</p> + +<p>Tobie had nothing to say; he took out his wallet, and opened it in such +a way that they could all see a number of banknotes, one of which he +handed to Varinet, saying:</p> + +<p>"One more or less doesn't make much show when you have plenty."</p> + +<p>"That wallet of yours would put Célestin to rights just now," said +Mouillot.</p> + +<p>"Why so?"</p> + +<p>"Because he's in prison for debt—yes, been there two months."</p> + +<p>"No, really? in prison for debt! poor Célestin! I'll go and see him; and +I'll see that he's released."</p> + +<p>Having said this with a swagger of importance, Tobie bade his friends +adieu and left the café; but he had not walked thirty yards on the +boulevard, when he was<a name="vol_4_page_130" id="vol_4_page_130"></a> overtaken by Monsieur Dupétrain, who passed his +arm through his, saying:</p> + +<p>"My dear Monsieur Pigeonnier, I have something very important to tell +you—a warning—in fact, something that it is well you should know, so +that you may be on your guard."</p> + +<p>"What does this mean?" cried Tobie, taking alarm at once; "does anyone +think of robbing me? Somebody has found out that I have come into my +aunt's property, and means to rob me, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"It isn't that at all; in the first place, it's hardly probable that +anyone who meant to rob you would have taken me into his confidence."</p> + +<p>"No, that is true; but you tell me to be on my guard."</p> + +<p>"You see, I take an interest in you, Monsieur Pigeonnier, for you +believe in magnetism, and I remember that, the last time we dined +together, I was going to tell you a very interesting anecdote concerning +the extraordinary effects of somnambulism; it was this: A lady, whose +husband was travelling, desired to know whether——"</p> + +<p>Tobie abruptly dropped Monsieur Dupétrain's arm, and exclaimed +impatiently:</p> + +<p>"Was it because you proposed to tell me that, that you warned me to be +on my guard?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I beg your pardon—I didn't tell you, did I? This is what it is: I +met Monsieur Plays not long ago, at an evening party; you know Monsieur +Plays, Madame Plays's husband?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Tobie replied, with a fatuous air, "an excellent sort of man; but +I know his wife much better. Well! what did our dear Plays say to you?"</p> + +<p>"Our dear Plays—as it pleases you to call him so—asked me, in the +course of conversation, if I knew you;<a name="vol_4_page_131" id="vol_4_page_131"></a> and, on my replying in the +affirmative, urged me, if I should happen to see you, to beg you to +avoid him, inasmuch as his wife has ordered him to kill you, because, it +seems, you insulted and deceived her shamefully; that is all Plays chose +to tell me."</p> + +<p>Tobie roared with laughter.</p> + +<p>"Gad! that is charming! delicious! Ah! she employs her husband to kill +me, now! I can guess why. Poor husband! luckily, he is good enough to +warn me. I thank you for your warning, my dear Monsieur Dupétrain, but I +assure you that Monsieur Plays doesn't worry me at all; he's no +duellist, and, besides, I shall only have to say a single word to him +to—— Alas! I would to God I had no duel to reproach myself for!"</p> + +<p>Again Tobie drew his handkerchief, as if deeply moved.</p> + +<p>"I am delighted that this affair doesn't worry you," rejoined Dupétrain; +"in that case, we can return to that anecdote that I didn't have time to +finish: A young lady, whose husband——"</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, Monsieur Dupétrain, but I have an important appointment; I +will listen to it some other time, by your leave."</p> + +<p>Two days after this conversation, Tobie, who had become a constant +attendant at balls, receptions, concerts, and the theatre, since he had +inherited his Aunt Abraham's property, found himself face to face with +Monsieur Plays and his wife in the foyer of the Opéra.</p> + +<p>Madame Plays stopped, cast a withering glance at Tobie, and nudged her +husband.</p> + +<p>"There he is," she said.</p> + +<p>"Who?" queried Monsieur Plays.</p> + +<p>"The insolent wretch who amused himself at my expense, and whom you must +punish!"<a name="vol_4_page_132" id="vol_4_page_132"></a></p> + +<p>Monsieur Plays turned pale as death, and clung to his wife's arm, +muttering:</p> + +<p>"My corns hurt me terribly! the weather will change to-morrow; it's a +sure sign of rain!"</p> + +<p>"I'm not talking about your corns, monsieur; there's the young man who +was responsible for my carrying a cigar in my bosom two months, and I +must have satisfaction, monsieur. I will sit here on this bench, and I +shan't lose sight of you. Go and challenge Monsieur Pigeonnier; if you +don't, never hope to enter my boudoir again! you understand, monsieur; +now, go!"</p> + +<p>The superb Herminie seated herself at one end of the foyer, sustaining +with much self-possession the glances bestowed upon her by the men who +were walking back and forth there during the entr'acte. As for Monsieur +Plays, who was compelled to go and pick a quarrel with a fellow +creature—he would have preferred, at that moment, to be at Algiers, or +on the railroad.</p> + +<p>Tobie had recognized the happy couple; and he continued to stroll about +the foyer, looking at himself in the mirrors, and trying to keep his +monocle in his eye. Suddenly a timid voice addressed him; he turned, and +saw Monsieur Plays, whose manner was anything but provocative, and who +saluted him very courteously, saying:</p> + +<p>"Have I the honor of speaking to Monsieur Tobie Pigeonnier?"</p> + +<p>"Why, it's Monsieur Plays! Delighted to meet you! How's your health, +Monsieur Plays?"</p> + +<p>"Very good, thanks; but I am suffering a good deal with my corns. My +boots hurt me. Have you any?"</p> + +<p>"Boots?"</p> + +<p>"No, corns."<a name="vol_4_page_133" id="vol_4_page_133"></a></p> + +<p>"That species of discomfort is entirely unknown to me."</p> + +<p>"Ah! you are very lucky!"</p> + +<p>At this point, Monsieur Plays turned, and saw his wife looking daggers +at him; he remembered what she demanded of him, and continued in an +undertone:</p> + +<p>"My dear Monsieur Pigeonnier, I must tell you that my wife has sent me +to you, because she thinks you—you made sport of her when you told her +that you had killed Monsieur Albert Vermoncey in a duel. Women take +offence at trifles, you know; and Herminie is very sensitive. You gave +her a cigar, too. In short, she's furious with you. So far as I am +concerned, I am sure that you had no intention to be disrespectful to +her, but she insists that I shall demand satisfaction. It's perfect +nonsense; we must arrange it somehow——"</p> + +<p>Tobie assumed a most solemn air, and interrupted Monsieur Plays.</p> + +<p>"Your excellent wife is right, perfectly right, and I am not surprised +that she has told you to kill me. Indeed, I agree with her."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Plays shifted from one leg to the other, and looked uneasily at +the little man, faltering:</p> + +<p>"What! you—you want—to fight?"</p> + +<p>"Hush, and listen to me! I tell you again that I should deserve all her +anger and yours, if I had acted as she thinks. But it is not so; and now +she is only too thoroughly revenged on poor Albert! In our first affair, +I thought I had killed him, but I was mistaken. Later, I had my revenge. +When I learned of Albert's return to Paris, a month ago, I instantly +sent him a challenge by a messenger, and he accepted it. Ah! he was a +man of the nicest honor. We fought with pistols, near Pantin. I wounded +Albert in the side, and he breathed his last<a name="vol_4_page_134" id="vol_4_page_134"></a> the same day. Tell me, +monsieur, if your good wife has any reason now to complain of me, when I +have fought twice for her, when to avenge her I have killed one of my +most intimate friends?"</p> + +<p>"You are a brave fellow!" said Monsieur Plays, shaking Tobie's hand; "I +never doubted it. So poor Albert is really dead this time?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, unfortunately; for I will confess to you that it grieves me +deeply."</p> + +<p>"I believe it, oh! I believe it. Adieu, Monsieur Pigeonnier! It is my +turn now to apologize to you."</p> + +<p>"Your obedient servant, Monsieur Plays!"</p> + +<p>Tobie sauntered away, and Herminie's spouse returned to his better half +and repeated all that the young man had just told him. Madame Plays +listened impatiently, then exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"It isn't true. He has made a fool of you again. Albert isn't dead."</p> + +<p>"But, my dear love, he seemed to be deeply moved, and then he gave me +all those details."</p> + +<p>"Lies! However, we will soon know the truth; and woe to you, monsieur, +if you have allowed yourself to be hoodwinked! Come! Come!"</p> + +<p>"Where, madame?"</p> + +<p>"To Monsieur Vermoncey's house. Oh! I won't be deceived this time."</p> + +<p>Herminie seized her husband's arm, dragged him away from the Opéra, made +him take a cab with her, and soon arrived at the house in which Albert +formerly lived. There she questioned the concierge and learned that +young Vermoncey had, in fact, been killed in a duel a month before; and +all the details of the melancholy event that were given her agreed +perfectly with what Tobie had said.<a name="vol_4_page_135" id="vol_4_page_135"></a></p> + +<p>Thereupon Madame Plays made a great outcry, sobbed, wept, tore her +handkerchief, had an attack of hysteria, writhed on the floor of the +concierge's lodge, and called Tobie a monster and an assassin.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Plays succeeded, not without difficulty, in taking his wife +home, and all the way she kept asking him if he knew what she had done +with the piece of a cigar that had belonged to Albert; she declared that +she would give a thousand francs to anybody who would find it for her.</p> + +<p>During the next few days, Madame Plays told everybody she saw that it +was Monsieur Tobie Pigeonnier who had killed young Albert Vermoncey in a +duel; and as nobody contradicted the story, and as he who was reported +to be the victor was the first to confirm it, it soon came to be +regarded as authentic; and in society little Tobie was looked upon as a +duellist whom it was not prudent to provoke.</p> + +<h2><a name="XXX" id="XXX"></a>XXX<br /><br /> +<small>AN OLD LADY</small></h2> + +<p>Adeline was still as melancholy as ever, but she had ceased to weep, +before her brother at all events, for she realized that it added to his +sorrow and regret that, for her sake, he had been obliged to do +something which filled his heart with remorse, even while he told +himself that he could not have acted differently.</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate worked with the greatest zeal and courage; he was not the +same man as before. Since his duel<a name="vol_4_page_136" id="vol_4_page_136"></a> he had become as gentle as a child, +and, far from seeking a quarrel with anyone, he was always the first to +try to compose the disputes that arose in his presence. Instead of +getting tipsy, as he used frequently to do, he avoided the temptation to +drink, never entered a wine shop, and ate all his meals with his sister, +to whom he carried faithfully each day all the money he had earned.</p> + +<p>In accordance with her brother's advice, Adeline had written to her +father, confessing her fault and telling him frankly the whole story of +her conduct, as well as the events that had resulted from it. She had +not long to wait for a reply; old Père Renaud wrote his daughter that he +forgave her, and that his arms would always be open to her whenever she +chose to come back to him.</p> + +<p>"When your child is born," said Sans-Cravate, "and you are strong enough +to stand the journey, we will go back to the province; I will settle +down there, too; I won't leave you any more, for a strong man with +plenty of courage can work anywhere, and I've had quite enough of Paris! +When you no longer have a friend or a woman you care for in a place, you +leave it without regret."</p> + +<p>A few days after Albert's death, a messenger from Monsieur Vermoncey +came to the humble apartment occupied by the brother and sister. He +brought a letter addressed to Adeline, which contained these words:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="nind">"M<small>ADEMOISELLE</small>:</p> + +<p>"My unfortunate son did not forget you before he died; as he was +going out to fight, he wrote a few lines leaving you the unexpended +portion of the property he inherited from his mother, and +recommending you to my<a name="vol_4_page_137" id="vol_4_page_137"></a> generosity. It is my purpose to carry out +my poor son's last wishes. He had less than twelve hundred francs a +year remaining; but from this day I settle an income of six +thousand francs upon you, as a charge upon my own estate; the first +year's will be paid to you at any time.</p> + +<p class="r">"V<small>ERMONCEY.</small>"</p></div> + +<p>After reading the letter, Adeline handed it to Sans-Cravate, who read it +in his turn, then looked his sister in the eye. They understood each +other without a word, and Adeline immediately wrote to Albert's father +the following reply:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"I am grateful for your kindness, monsieur, but I do not desire nor +can I accept anything from you. What I desired was Albert's love, +and his name for my child. Heaven has denied me these, and the +money you offer me now would seem to be the price of my dishonor."</p></div> + +<p>Adeline gave the letter to her brother to read.</p> + +<p>"Well done!" he cried; "sacrebleu! I couldn't have done it better +myself."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey's messenger went away with the letter, and since then +they had heard nothing more from him.</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate did his utmost to cheer his sister, to bring an occasional +smile to her lips; but his task was the more difficult because he +himself was oppressed by a burden of grief which he could not succeed in +dislodging.</p> + +<p>At night, when he went home to Adeline, and sat down with her, intending +to divert her by describing some incidents that he had witnessed during +the day, his thoughts<a name="vol_4_page_138" id="vol_4_page_138"></a> would go back to the past; after he had said a +few words, he would fall into a profound reverie, and seem to forget +that his sister was by his side.</p> + +<p>One evening, when he had been for a long time lost in thought, Adeline +went to him, laid her hand gently on his shoulder, and said:</p> + +<p>"You too have troubles, my dear, besides those I have caused you. I +remember what you said to me, coming from Lagny: 'I have troubles of my +own, and I'll tell you about them some day.'—Has not that day come? I +can't promise to comfort you, but I shall understand your suffering, and +it is something to have a friend who understands what we feel."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate gazed sadly at his sister, kissed her on the forehead, ran +his hands through his hair, and said:</p> + +<p>"<i>Sacrédié!</i> you are right. I will tell you the story. It's a very +simple story, however, and won't take long.—I loved a woman, and my +love was returned, at least I thought so. At all events, Bastringuette +was mine, as you were Monsieur Albert's—except that I did not seduce +her; because, you see, in Paris, a girl knows well enough what she's +doing when she gives her heart away; you may please her, but you don't +seduce her. Bastringuette was a good girl, a little free in her manners, +and a little bold in her talk; but I loved her as she was, and she—she +loved me as I was, and yet I must admit that I didn't live the kind of +life then that I do now. I gambled and drank and got drunk, and fought +for a word, for nothing at all; and I spent in one day all I'd earn in a +week; but she forgave my foolishness, and she took care of my room, and +my linen—and all without a trace of selfishness, for sometimes she had +to give me money for my dinner, although she had none too much for +herself; she<a name="vol_4_page_139" id="vol_4_page_139"></a> was a <i>marchande des quatre saisons</i>, and didn't always +earn in a week as much as I'd spend in one evening with Jean Ficelle and +other tipplers."</p> + +<p>"Poor girl!" said Adeline; "she loved you dearly!"</p> + +<p>"You think so! and I thought so too. But you'll see in a minute that I +was mistaken. I had a friend too, a comrade, younger than me; his name +was Paul, he was a messenger, like me, and his stand was alongside of +mine. This Paul had such a sweet, gentle way with him—and such +manners—something that attracted you right away. And with it all, a +hard worker—never loafed, never got drunk, and never gave me anything +but good advice. So I looked on him as my brother; I'd have fought for +him or jumped into the fire for him! Well, Bastringuette left me, to go +with Paul; and he, swearing all the time that he never saw her, that he +loved another woman, made assignations with Bastringuette—met her in a +different quarter, where they didn't think they'd be seen."</p> + +<p>"Are you quite sure of that, brother?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! if anyone had told me, I wouldn't have believed it! but I saw +'em—saw 'em with my own eyes! and then I couldn't doubt it any longer. +I intended at first to be content with despising 'em, but one day—I had +been off with Jean Ficelle, and I was a little light-headed—I saw Paul +on a street corner with my faithless wench. Gad! I couldn't hold myself +back; I insisted on fighting; I jumped at him, and he didn't defend +himself——"</p> + +<p>"O mon Dieu! did you kill him?"</p> + +<p>"No, no; he was only wounded, and that by a mere chance: he fell on a +paving stone. But he's been well a long while. Luckily, I never see him +now; he's taken another stand, near Rue Taitbout, I think."<a name="vol_4_page_140" id="vol_4_page_140"></a></p> + +<p>"But if you should see him, my dear, you wouldn't fight with him again, +I hope; once is quite enough—ah! sometimes it's too much."</p> + +<p>Adeline put her handkerchief to her eyes, and Sans-Cravate replied:</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no! I'm done with him! I shall never speak to him again. But +heaven has—oh! it's a very strange thing!"</p> + +<p>"What is, my dear brother?"</p> + +<p>"Just imagine that, by the merest chance, I discovered, not long ago, a +secret which would give this Paul a name, a father, and a great fortune, +if he knew it; for he's a foundling, who don't know anything about his +family; and it's only me that knows it; I should only have to say a word +to make him happy and rich and distinguished."</p> + +<p>"Well, brother?"</p> + +<p>"Well! I won't say it!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! that is very wrong, my dear, to deprive anyone of his rightful +fortune, and, what is much worse, of his father's caresses! Look you, +brother; I am sure that in the bottom of your heart this troubles you, +because you feel that you are doing wrong!"</p> + +<p>"That may be; but that don't prevent me from keeping my secret. He'd +give Bastringuette hats and shawls and jewelry; he'd take her about in a +carriage, and they'd play the swell at restaurants, and she'd be all the +more pleased that she threw me over for him. No, sacrebleu! no! I won't +have that!"</p> + +<p>"But, brother——"</p> + +<p>"That's enough; don't say anything more about it, don't ever mention it +again! you can't change my determination, and you would simply make me +furious with myself and them and everybody else, that's all!"<a name="vol_4_page_141" id="vol_4_page_141"></a></p> + +<p>More than three weeks had passed since this conversation, and had +brought about no change in the condition of the brother and sister, +when, on a fine winter's morning, Sans-Cravate—who was alone at his +stand, Jean Ficelle having failed to appear there for more than a +week—saw an elderly woman coming toward him, looking from side to side +as if she were not perfectly sure where she wanted to go.</p> + +<p>She was a small, thin, pale-faced woman, somewhat over sixty, evidently +in feeble health. Her dress was very simple and modest, but of bourgeois +cut; it did not denote poverty, but pointed to an economical habit not +far removed therefrom. Despite that, she carried herself with +distinction; and the amiability of her expression and manner imparted to +her person that general aspect of gentility which is apparent beneath +the humblest garments, and which the most fashionable and gorgeous +costume cannot give to those who have not received it from nature or by +education.</p> + +<p>This lady, having at last decided to address Sans-Cravate, walked up to +him and said:</p> + +<p>"I wonder if you could tell me, monsieur? You see, I am not quite +sure—I don't quite know how to explain it to you."</p> + +<p>"Are you looking for somebody, or for some address in this quarter, +madame? I have had my stand here for a long time, and I can probably +tell you what you want to know."</p> + +<p>"It isn't an address, but a certain person whom I would like to obtain +some information about; in fact, to find out something that interests me +very deeply. First of all, monsieur, tell me this: are you the only +messenger on this street?"<a name="vol_4_page_142" id="vol_4_page_142"></a></p> + +<p>"No, madame; there's Jean Ficelle—but he don't happen to be here now; +in fact, he hasn't been to work for several days; I suppose he's +tippling somewhere."</p> + +<p>"What sort of looking man is this Jean Ficelle?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! he ain't handsome—a little, short, thin man, near thirty years +old."</p> + +<p>"He's not the man I want. The one I am looking for is only twenty-three, +and looks less than that; you would hardly think he was twenty; he has a +graceful figure and a fine face, and his voice is as sweet as his eyes."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate frowned slightly as he replied:</p> + +<p>"Ah! you are talking about a man named Paul."</p> + +<p>"Paul!" cried the old woman; "that's the name. Do you know him?"</p> + +<p>"I should say so! as he used to stand here alongside of me. It ain't so +very long since he went somewhere else to stand."</p> + +<p>"He is a messenger! it is all true, then! poor boy! he did it for me, I +am sure of it!"</p> + +<p>Tears prevented the old lady from going on. Sans-Cravate was obliged to +support her until her emotion had subsided. At last, having recovered +herself to some extent, she grasped Sans-Cravate's hand and said:</p> + +<p>"Thanks, monsieur, thanks. If you knew what a fine fellow you had for +your comrade, if you knew what a noble heart he has, and of all he has +done for me! But I must tell you, monsieur, for I want everybody to know +it; such noble conduct deserves to be known, if for nothing else than to +lead others to imitate it.—My name is Desroches; my husband was a +tradesman, deservedly esteemed as well for his kindly nature as for his +strict probity in business. One day—we were well off, then—my husband, +happening to see the procession of the poor<a name="vol_4_page_143" id="vol_4_page_143"></a> children who had been +abandoned by their families, was deeply touched and interested by the +face of one of them; it was young Paul, who was then ten years old at +most. We had no children; our happiness was perfect but for that fact; +my husband offered to take charge of that child, and his offer was +readily accepted."</p> + +<p>"I knew all this, madame," said Sans-Cravate; "Paul has told me how he +was taken into Monsieur Desroches's family, and became his clerk; and +then how your husband was crushed by misfortunes and bankruptcies, and +died—of grief, perhaps, because he was obliged to break his +engagements."</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur; yes, that is all true, still it isn't all; but it's all +you know, I am sure; for Paul would not have told you of his noble +conduct."</p> + +<p>"No; I have told you all I know."</p> + +<p>"Well, monsieur, Paul, who was eighteen and a half when I lost my +husband, said to me then: 'Don't be distressed, my dear mother; not only +will I take care of you, but I propose that my benefactor's memory shall +be respected; I propose to pay all that he owed, and by working hard I +can do it.'—And, sure enough, the poor boy called my husband's +creditors together, and promised to pay them if they would give him +time. They were so moved by his self-sacrificing spirit, that they told +him to arrange his own terms. The debts amounted to only eight thousand +francs. Paul asked for five years in which to pay the whole; then he +told me not to worry about myself, that he would provide for all my +needs—and he left me, to seek employment. I didn't see him for several +days; at last he came and told me that he was employed in a business +house in Faubourg Saint-Honoré, and that he was obliged to live near by, +but that he would come<a name="vol_4_page_144" id="vol_4_page_144"></a> to see me at least twice a week, and would keep +his agreement with my husband's creditors. And from that time on, +monsieur, every three months he paid the amount he had promised, and +brought me the receipts. 'Take these, my dear mother,' he would say; 'I +am as happy as can be, because through me my benefactor's name is +respected;'—and I, monsieur, never had a suspicion that the poor boy +hadn't found any employment, but had become a messenger in order to +fulfil his engagements; and that he worked without rest, and took no +pleasure at all, so that he could put aside for me, for my husband's +honor, all the money he earned!"</p> + +<p>Again Madame Desroches could not hold back her tears; she drew her +handkerchief, and paused a moment to wipe her eyes.</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate, for his part, tried in vain to avoid being moved; despite +his grimaces, despite the churlish manner which he struggled to +maintain, and although he twisted his mouth and bit his lips, two great +tears escaped from his eyes, while he muttered between his teeth:</p> + +<p>"By all that's good! It was well done of him, all the same! that's what +I call honor! And to think that a man will get ugly and lose a friend, +just for a wink of a woman's eye, for an infernal petticoat and what's +underneath it! Bah! what a fool! Well, I can't stand it, I must let the +cat out of the bag!—How did you find out that Paul was a messenger?" he +asked aloud, after pretending to blow his nose in order to wipe his eyes +unobserved.</p> + +<p>"In this way, monsieur. Four or five months ago, I was sick, and Paul +stayed with me and nursed me; he did not go to work at all. 'Don't you +worry,' he'd say; 'there's another clerk, who has promised to take my +place<a name="vol_4_page_145" id="vol_4_page_145"></a> and do my work.'—I must tell you, monsieur, that I live on +Vieille Rue du Temple, near Rue Barbette——"</p> + +<p>"Near Rue Barbette!" cried Sans-Cravate; "a very high house, with a +passageway, and a grocery on the street floor?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur; that's the house."</p> + +<p>"Go on, madame, go on."</p> + +<p>"Well! one morning, when I had been getting better for some days, Paul, +who had gone back to his office,—at least, so he told me,—came to make +sure that I was still improving. He had been with me a little while, +when a tall girl came in with some fruit I had ordered of my regular +fruit dealer, on Rue Barbette.—But what's the matter, monsieur? you +seem agitated."</p> + +<p>"It's nothing, madame; I'll tell you in a minute. Go on, please, and +finish your story."</p> + +<p>"This tall girl gave a cry of surprise when she saw Paul; I saw that she +knew him and that she was astonished to find him dressed so well. I +noticed that Paul whispered a few words to her, but I found out nothing +then. But when Bastringuette—that was the girl's name—came again to +bring something from the fruit woman, who is her cousin, she cried out: +'Ah! madame, that's a mighty fine fellow, that Monsieur Paul!' And—but +why are you weeping, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"Go on—pray go on, madame."</p> + +<p>"Well, monsieur, some little time ago, Paul ceased to come as usual; I +was anxious and worried, when Bastringuette appeared and brought me the +money Paul was to pay that day to one of the creditors; she told me that +he had been obliged to take a short journey, and would come to see me +when he returned. To cut the story short, monsieur, time passed and Paul +did not come, but<a name="vol_4_page_146" id="vol_4_page_146"></a> Bastringuette continued to bring me money from him. I +questioned her; she was embarrassed and confused in her answers, and I +thought that I understood that Paul no longer owned his good clothes, +and that he would not come to see me in his jacket for fear I should +discover his occupation. I caught the word <i>messenger</i>, and several +times she mentioned the name of this street——"</p> + +<p>"Enough, enough, madame!—Ah! Paul! my poor Paul! So it is true, after +all! You never deceived me; it wasn't to see Bastringuette that you went +to that house!"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"What do I mean: that I am a beggarly brute—a cur! that I struck Paul +and wounded him, because I thought he was living with my mistress, when +he was thinking of nobody but you and of his benefactor's good name! +Damnation! but I will make up for it all; I will make him as happy as he +deserves to be."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! let us go and find him first; I long to embrace him—if only he'll +forgive me. Come, my good woman, come along; if you can't run, I'll +carry you; but let's make haste, for I can't hold in any longer!"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate seized Madame Desroches's arm and dragged her away. To keep +pace with the messenger, who said that it was in his power to make her +adopted son happy, the old lady seemed to have recovered the strength +and agility of youth.</p> + +<p>They reached Paul's new stand, and found him seated on a stone bench, +lost in thought. Sans-Cravate dropped Madame Desroches's arm, ran to +Paul, threw his arms about him, and kissed him again and again, shedding +tears, and saying in a broken voice:<a name="vol_4_page_147" id="vol_4_page_147"></a></p> + +<p>"Do you forgive me—my poor Paul? I know all—I was in the wrong, and I +struck you. If you don't forgive me, I'll jump into the water! Take care +of my sister."</p> + +<p>Paul was utterly at a loss to understand what had happened, until he saw +Madame Desroches and divined that his conduct was known. The old lady +likewise embraced the young man, weeping freely. Thereupon the +passers-by and idlers began to gather about them, wondering what that +young messenger had done to be embraced thus effusively; and +Sans-Cravate took Madame Desroches's arm and Paul's, and led them away.</p> + +<p>"Come away," he said; "I have something important to tell you; and all +these people, who probably think that we're going to show them some +tricks, are beginning to make me mad."</p> + +<p>These three persons, who were so overjoyed to be together, soon reached +Sans-Cravate's humble lodging, where poor Liline, taken by surprise by +that visit, strove to do the honors of her bedroom as best she could. He +presented Paul to her, saying:</p> + +<p>"This is the man I was jealous of, sister; I have found out to-day that +he never deceived me. So you can imagine how happy I shall be to put him +in the way of recovering his father, his name, and his fortune!"</p> + +<p>Paul stared at Sans-Cravate with an exclamation of surprise; he feared +that he had not heard aright. Madame Desroches begged the messenger to +explain himself. He asked nothing better, and, in order to make his +story clearer, he began by telling of the relations of Albert with his +sister, his visit to Monsieur Vermoncey, his duel with Adeline's +seducer, and, lastly, what he had heard Madame Baldimer say to the elder +Vermoncey—the<a name="vol_4_page_148" id="vol_4_page_148"></a> names, the cross on the forearm, and all the +corroborative circumstances.</p> + +<p>"But my heart seems to have divined the truth," said Paul, joyfully; +"and Monsieur Vermoncey himself—he showed so much friendship and +interest."</p> + +<p>"Does he know you?" asked Sans-Cravate.</p> + +<p>Paul gave the particulars of his visit to Monsieur Vermoncey; whereupon +Sans-Cravate clapped his hands, jumped up and down, swore, wept, and +shouted:</p> + +<p>"Let us go, my friends, let us go at once to Monsieur Vermoncey; he has +suffered and groaned long enough; we must hurry up and give him a son to +comfort him a little for the loss of his other children. Madame +Desroches must come with us; it will be better for her to be there, to +confirm what I say.—You stay here, sister, and wait for me. I shall +soon be back, and with good news, I am sure."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate whispered to his sister, who smiled and promised to obey; +then he ran out to fetch a cab, into which he put Madame Desroches and +Paul, got in after them, and ordered the driver to take them to Monsieur +Vermoncey's house.</p> + +<p>"You must let me speak first," he said to them on the way; "the sight of +me will be painful to him at the outset, but afterward, I trust, he +won't be sorry that he's seen me again."</p> + +<p>When they reached the house, Sans-Cravate took the servant by storm, and +compelled him to usher him into his master's study.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey started back in surprise; his eyes assumed an +expression of hopeless melancholy when he saw Sans-Cravate, but he +motioned to him to come forward.<a name="vol_4_page_149" id="vol_4_page_149"></a></p> + +<p>"Your sister has reflected on my offer, no doubt," he said. "I am still +prepared to abide by it, for I should be very glad to repair my son's +wrong-doing."</p> + +<p>"Let us say nothing about that, monsieur," replied Sans-Cravate; "if +your son did wrong, heaven has attended to the expiation, and +that—event made me as wretched as it did you. But I have come to-day to +make you happy, and it is the least I can do after causing you so much +sorrow."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey stared at the messenger in amazement, but +Sans-Cravate went on:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, chance made me acquainted with the whole story of a misstep +of your younger days, for which that Madame Baldimer was so bent on +punishing you. Well! the child you had at that time by a poor girl named +Marie Delbart, that—abandoned child I have found, and I have brought +him back to you!"</p> + +<p>"Is it possible?" faltered Monsieur Vermoncey, rising and going to +Sans-Cravate's side. "Oh! monsieur, is this true? are you quite sure of +what you say?"</p> + +<p>"Sacrebleu! yes, I am sure of my facts, sure of what I say!"</p> + +<p>"You are aware of his existence—where is he?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! he ain't far away!"</p> + +<p>And Sans-Cravate opened the door behind him, took Paul by the hand, and +pushed him into his father's arms.</p> + +<p>"I robbed you of one son," he said, "but I give you back another. That +goes a little way toward reconciling me to myself."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey strained Paul to his heart, then gazed affectionately +into his face, crying:</p> + +<p>"I am not mistaken—it is the same young man who aroused such a deep +interest in my heart. Yes, yes, he<a name="vol_4_page_150" id="vol_4_page_150"></a> is my son, my heart divined it long +ago; and the more I look at him, the more clearly I recognize the +unhappy Marie's features in his."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but we want you to be certain of the fact," said Sans-Cravate. +"Here is Madame Desroches, the widow of the excellent man who took Paul +away from—where he was; she will tell you what paper he had about him +when they—and then you will see the cross on his left arm. You'll find +that it's all just as that beautiful lady—who is so vindictive—told +you the other day; and you'll find out, too, that you not only have +recovered your son, but that he's the finest fellow on earth; and if +they gave the cross to everyone that deserves it, it would have been +shining on his breast long ago."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey needed no further proofs to convince him that Paul +was his son; however, he listened with profound interest to good Madame +Desroches, who did not fail to tell of the young messenger's noble +conduct toward herself.</p> + +<p>When the old lady had finished, Monsieur Vermoncey took his son's hand +and gazed proudly at him. But in a moment he said, in a faltering tone:</p> + +<p>"My dear son, you will not be so proud of your father as he is of you; +you have every right to reproach him for his desertion of you. But I was +very young, I was poor, I did not know what it is to be a father—and I +have blamed myself so bitterly for that sin!"</p> + +<p>Paul threw himself into his father's arms, begging him to say no more, +and Sans-Cravate added:</p> + +<p>"You must forget the past, and think of nothing but your present +happiness."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Paul, pressing his former comrade's hand. "But since I am +taking Albert's place here, your sister<a name="vol_4_page_151" id="vol_4_page_151"></a> must accept now what he and my +father have done for her.—Am I not carrying out your wishes in this, +father?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my son," was the reply; "indeed, from this time forth I shall +approve whatever you do."</p> + +<p>"Shake!" said Sans-Cravate to Paul; "I will accept anything from you; if +you should offer me a million, I'd take it—I must make up for my +infernal stupidity with regard to you. But my sister's waiting for +us—and—and——"</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate whispered the name of Elina. Paul instantly asked his +father's permission to leave him a moment; and Monsieur Vermoncey gave +it, on the condition that he would bring Adeline to him, whom he desired +to embrace, and that Madame Desroches would remain and talk with him at +greater length about his son. The old lady asked nothing better.</p> + +<p>In a very few minutes, Sans-Cravate and Paul were with Adeline, who, in +accordance with her brother's suggestion, had gone to see little Elina +and had told her of the great change in Paul's position. When the two +friends arrived, they found the little dressmaker weeping bitterly, +because she was persuaded that her lover, now that he had become rich, +would no longer think of marrying her.</p> + +<p>Paul hastened to console Elina, and Sans-Cravate said:</p> + +<p>"You must strike while the iron's hot, and present your sweetheart to +your father right away; at this moment, he can't refuse you +anything—later, nobody knows."</p> + +<p>Paul approved this suggestion; but Elina was afraid to go to Monsieur +Vermoncey's; she trembled at the thought, and refused; it required all +her lover's eloquence, all the entreaties of Adeline and her brother, +to<a name="vol_4_page_152" id="vol_4_page_152"></a> induce her to accompany them. They succeeded at last in allaying her +terror, and ere long the two girls stood before Monsieur Vermoncey.</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate presented his sister, whose sad, sweet face and lovely eyes +brimming with tears aroused Monsieur Vermoncey's most affectionate +interest; he embraced her and called her his daughter. Then he fixed his +eyes on little Elina, who was trying to hide behind a curtain, and said, +with a smile:</p> + +<p>"But who is this other young lady?"</p> + +<p>Paul stepped forward, blushing, and told his father of his love for +Elina; he dwelt upon the delicacy of the girl, who loved him when he had +nothing and offered to give him her little fortune; then he told of the +care she had lavished on him during his illness.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Vermoncey went behind the curtains and led her forth, as red as +a cherry, into the middle of the room; he kissed her on the forehead, +and said to her:</p> + +<p>"You desired to make my son happy when he had nothing; now that he is +rich, it is only fair that he should do as much for you."</p> + +<p>"Ah! that is what I call talking!" cried Sans-Cravate. "Look you, +monsieur, do you know what this comes to? why, that you've recovered all +your children to-day!"</p> + +<p>On returning home with his sister, Sans-Cravate was very gay and happy; +but he glanced constantly from side to side, as if he hoped to meet +someone. Adeline noticed it and smiled to herself, but said nothing. +Early in the evening, someone knocked softly at the door of their room.</p> + +<p>"Hark! who can have come to see us?" said Sans-Cravate, looking at his +sister; "I don't know of any visitor we expect."<a name="vol_4_page_153" id="vol_4_page_153"></a></p> + +<p>Adeline made no reply, but went to open the door, and Bastringuette +stood before them.</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate was so agitated that he could not speak; his first impulse +was to throw his arms about the tall girl's neck; but he checked +himself, because he reflected that the fact that Paul was not her lover +did not prove that she was not attached to somebody else.</p> + +<p>Bastringuette remained standing in front of him; she glanced coyly at +him, and finally, as if she divined his thoughts, she held out her hand, +saying:</p> + +<p>"I was a flirt—you were ugly—but I love you still, and after this you +needn't be afraid, because, you see, a woman's like a saucepan: when it +has once been on the fire, it's better than a new one."</p> + +<p>Sans-Cravate threw his arms about her.</p> + +<p>"To make sure you don't change again, I'll marry you!" he said.</p> + +<p>"That ain't always the safest way," rejoined Bastringuette, with a +smile; "but as I've been a little free before marriage, I promise you I +won't be afterward."</p> + +<p>"And I'll take you to Auvergne, to live with my father; how does that +strike you?"</p> + +<p>"To Auvergne—I should say so! I'm so fond of chestnuts."</p> + +<p>A few weeks later, Paul led pretty Elina to the altar; she had ceased to +be a dressmaker at the same time that her lover had ceased to be a +messenger. And good Madame Desroches consented to live with the young +couple, who treated her as their mother.</p> + +<p>As for Madame Baldimer, she had left Paris for America immediately after +Albert's death.</p> + +<p>Albert's friends continue to stroll on the boulevards, cigar in mouth. +Mouillot is still a high liver, Balivan as<a name="vol_4_page_154" id="vol_4_page_154"></a> distraught as ever, and +Dupétrain still insists on putting people to sleep. Monsieur Varinet no +longer lends five hundred francs on an olive, because he is afraid of +having to keep it too long in his purse, and Monsieur Célestin de +Valnoir, having obtained his release from Sainte-Pélagie, bends his +energies to piling up other debts.</p> + +<p>Madame Plays continues to disregard her husband's rights; but she cannot +endure the sight of Tobie; she holds him in horror, because she believes +that he killed Albert. Young Pigeonnier consoles himself for the rigor +of the superb Herminie with Aunt Abraham's fortune and his reputation +for valor.</p> + +<p>On the day before his departure for Auvergne with his sister and +Bastringuette, Sans-Cravate saw two men in the street, handcuffed +together, on their way to the Préfecture, escorted by gendarmes. He +recognized Laboussole and Jean Ficelle. The latter seemed a little +abashed to be seen with such an escort; but Monsieur Laboussole kept up +a continual outcry of:</p> + +<p>"It's a mistake of the gendarmes; they take us for somebody else! That +trick's been played on me seven or eight times before!"</p> + +<p>"That's how I should have ended, perhaps," thought Sans-Cravate, as he +looked after them, "if I'd listened to that ne'er-do-well's advice! for +there's no mistake about it, when a man keeps going on sprees, and never +works, he seldom comes to a good end."<a name="vol_4_page_155" id="vol_4_page_155"></a></p> + +<hr /> + +<h1><a name="LITTLE_STREAMS" id="LITTLE_STREAMS"></a>LITTLE STREAMS</h1> + +<p><a name="vol_4_page_156" id="vol_4_page_156"></a></p> + +<p><a name="vol_4_page_157" id="vol_4_page_157"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="I-ls" id="I-ls"></a>I<br /><br /> +<small>FOUR AT THE RENDEZVOUS</small></h2> + +<p>It was just five o'clock in the afternoon, when a fashionably dressed +young man, of comely aspect, and possessed of an attractive countenance, +although his large blue eyes sometimes expressed a decided penchant for +raillery, entered the café which stands, or stood, at the corner of +Faubourg Poissonnière and the boulevard, on the right as you turn into +the latter.</p> + +<p>The young man looked into the first room, then into the others in +succession, and at last said to himself:</p> + +<p>"No one! not a single one of them has come! Probably not a single one of +them will come! Five years is quite long enough to forget an +appointment. However, I remembered it. I am sure that they are not all +dead, for I met Dodichet within two months, and I saw Dubotté at the +theatre less than a week ago. Lucien is the only one I haven't heard of +for some time. Well, I'll wait a while. Everyone is entitled to the +fifteen minutes' grace."</p> + +<p>And the young man, whose name was Adhémar Monbrun, seated himself at a +table, took up a newspaper, ordered a <i>petit verre</i> of chartreuse, and +read a review of the play which had had a successful first performance +the night before, but which the newspaper critic abused because the +author was not a friend of his. Which fact,<a name="vol_4_page_158" id="vol_4_page_158"></a> luckily, was not likely to +prevent the play from making its way and achieving a long run, because +the public was beginning to take at their true value the articles of +those aristarchs of the press, who took for their motto, generally +speaking: "No one shall be allowed to have any cleverness except +ourselves and our friends."</p> + +<p>Adhémar had not been reading the paper two minutes, when a man, who had +just entered the café, walked straight to the table at which he was +seated, and tapped him on the shoulder, saying:</p> + +<p>"Well, my boy, here I am, too; as prompt as the sun in pleasant weather. +I didn't forget our appointment, you see. Good-afternoon, Adhémar, I am +delighted to see you once more! You're well, I trust? So am I, as you +see. Everybody says that I have a prosperous face. Indeed, sometimes it +irritates me to hear it, because I have noticed that prosperity often +has a stupid look. But I hope that mine isn't so bad as that!"</p> + +<p>This second individual was a man of about thirty years, who looked fully +as old as he was, because he was a little inclined to corpulency; rather +below than above medium height, with a full, high-colored face, always +wreathed in smiles, a forest of light hair which curled naturally, +china-blue eyes, as round as a cat's, and large mutton-chop +whiskers—such was Philémon Dubotté, who considered himself a very +good-looking fellow, and paid court to all the ladies except his own +wife, whom he neglected shamefully, but who, on the contrary, adored +him, and was always lavishing caresses on him. But the ladies are often +like that: the colder you are with them, the more ardent they are with +you; perhaps I shall be told that it is because they want to warm you.</p> + +<p>Adhémar shook hands with the new-comer.<a name="vol_4_page_159" id="vol_4_page_159"></a></p> + +<p>"How are you, Philémon! come and sit down. Yes, you have a look of +robust health which does one good to see!"</p> + +<p>"I haven't the look of it only, I beg you to believe. I'm as rugged as +Porte Saint-Denis. By the way, is Porte Saint-Denis still standing?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, to be sure!"</p> + +<p>"I didn't know; so many things are being demolished in these days! Well, +then, I repeat: I'm as rugged as Porte Saint-Denis."</p> + +<p>"I see that you remembered."</p> + +<p>"Why in the devil shouldn't I?"</p> + +<p>"In five years one forgets so many things, my friend!"</p> + +<p>"In love, that may be; but not in friendship."</p> + +<p>"Men forget in friendship, as well as in love. Memory is a rare thing in +this world, especially memory of the heart."</p> + +<p>"Ah! there you are! the same as ever—no confidence in anything or +anybody!"</p> + +<p>"Is it my fault, my dear fellow, if my confidence has always been +betrayed? Time destroys all our illusions, and in the last five years I +have lost an infernal lot of them."</p> + +<p>"Well, I haven't lost anything at all. I still adore the fair sex, +which, I venture to say, repays my adoration with interest—too +earnestly, in fact. For I have a wife—you don't know my wife, I +believe? I'll introduce you to her; my dear fellow, she adores me, she +idolizes me! It's a genuine passion. When she goes half a day without +seeing me, she's as good as dead: she doesn't eat, she pines and +languishes, sometimes she weeps even. When I come home, I have to scold +her. 'Éléonore,' I say—her name's Éléonore—'why, Nonore, what does<a name="vol_4_page_160" id="vol_4_page_160"></a> +this mean? What! can't I stay out a little late with friends, without +finding you in tears when I come home?' And she throws her arms round my +neck, and says: 'I thought you'd fallen off the top of an omnibus! I beg +you, my love, don't ride in the three-sou seats. Go inside, Philémon, I +implore you; ride inside; you'll make me so much happier!'—That's the +kind of a woman my wife is, and I assure you it's an infernal bore to be +loved like that!"</p> + +<p>"You complain because the bride is too fair, but it won't always be so."</p> + +<p>"I trust not—poor Nonore! If she knew how unworthy I am of such +adoration—for I am a double-dyed villain: I can't see a pretty face +without ogling it. Ah! I see Lucien yonder. Well, well! I really believe +we shall have the whole party."</p> + +<p>The individual who was approaching the table at which the two friends +were seated was a young man of twenty-six, tall and slight, and +extremely thin; his face was pale, but his features were rather fine; +the expression of the eyes was very sweet, and his manners as well as +his speech were calculated to inspire interest. His dress was extremely +neat, but did not denote affluence; his black frock-coat, buttoned to +the chin, had evidently been brushed frequently, and you would hardly +have dared to detain him by grasping one of its skirts, lest it should +remain in your hand. His black cravat showed only a tiny bit of collar, +and his hat seemed to have been scrubbed with water; but his gray +trousers were spotlessly clean; and his shoes, albeit not of patent +leather, were carefully polished. The young man's name was Lucien +Grischard.</p> + +<p>As soon as he caught sight of him, Adhémar rose and extended his hand, +crying out:<a name="vol_4_page_161" id="vol_4_page_161"></a></p> + +<p>"How are you, Lucien, dear old Lucien! how glad I am to see you! for +it's a long while—nearly two years—since I laid eyes on you."</p> + +<p>"That is true, Monsieur Adhémar, and I am very glad to see you, too. I +have been waiting impatiently for this day, which was to bring us +together."</p> + +<p>"Why on earth do you call me <i>monsieur</i>, and not Adhémar, as you used +to? Am I not still your old boarding-school comrade?"</p> + +<p>"Forgive me! but that was so long ago, and for the last five years you +have had nothing but success in literary and dramatic work; you have +become a celebrity! while I have remained in obscurity."</p> + +<p>"My dear Lucien, if celebrity is to result in separating us from our +friends, we ought to shrink from it instead of longing for it. I fancy +that mine hasn't yet acquired such dimensions as to make me a subject of +envy."</p> + +<p>"Oh! pray don't think that I ever had a suspicion of that sentiment when +I heard of your triumphs. On the contrary, I was always overjoyed, and +said to myself: 'He, at least, is making his way!'"</p> + +<p>While this third member of the party was talking with Adhémar, the +sandy-haired Philémon scrutinized him with unremitting attention, and +the aspect of the threadbare coat and the cleaned hat did not seem to +add great zest to his friendship; however, he too shook hands with +Lucien, and said to him in an almost patronizing tone:</p> + +<p>"Good-afternoon, Lucien! how are you, my boy? Sapristi! you haven't put +on much flesh since I saw you last!"</p> + +<p>"I can't say the same for you, Philémon, for you are almost the shape of +a barrel."<a name="vol_4_page_162" id="vol_4_page_162"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh! a barrel; that's putting it a little strong; but, after all, I +would rather resemble a barrel than the barrel of a gun."</p> + +<p>Instead of losing his temper at this comparison, Lucien laughed +heartily, while Adhémar interposed with:</p> + +<p>"Well, well, messieurs, how's this? old schoolfellows meeting after five +years, and making unkind remarks to each other! is that the way to meet +after a lustrum has passed over our heads, and have you become so +sensitive that you lose your tempers over a jest?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I am not angry in the least," replied Lucien; "far from it; +Philémon's remark made me laugh, as you see."</p> + +<p>"For my part," said Dubotté, "I confess that I can't endure being +compared to a barrel; any sobriquet you please, except that. But I don't +bear Lucien any ill will. Come, sit down here with us, my dear fellow, +and take something."</p> + +<p>"Thanks; but we're not all here yet: someone is missing—Dodichet."</p> + +<p>"Oh! we can't count on him. Was Dodichet ever a man of his word? Why, he +doesn't know what it is to keep a promise! He's a good fellow enough, +but an erratic, rattle-brained creature, who always has a thousand +schemes on hand, but never carries out one of them, and never remembers +one day what he said the day before."</p> + +<p>"The devil! you judge him rather harshly, Philémon!"</p> + +<p>"I am simply telling the truth. However, I've seen very little of him +for five years; he may have mended his ways."</p> + +<p>"No," said Adhémar; "Dodichet is just the same; I have happened to meet +him several times, and I have<a name="vol_4_page_163" id="vol_4_page_163"></a> been sorry to see that our old friend has +not grown any more sensible. He was in a position to succeed, for he's +not a fool, and he inherited some money from his parents; but he thinks +of nothing but enjoying life, of making <i>bonnes blagues</i>, as he +expresses it; and they don't always succeed; some of them have cost him +dear. I believe that he is almost ruined now; and, unfortunately, he +hasn't yet decided upon any profession."</p> + +<p>"Poor Dodichet!" said Lucien; "he must be very unhappy, then."</p> + +<p>"He, unhappy! oh! he'll never be that. He laughs at everything, +everything is <i>couleur de rose</i> with him; and he is convinced that he +will have a fine house, horses and carriages, and a hundred thousand +francs a year, some day. He has a very happy disposition."</p> + +<p>"Why, here he is, on my word!" cried Philémon; "yes, it's really he—he +has remembered our appointment. Well, he has a better memory than I +supposed."</p> + +<p>Another person had, in fact, entered the café. It was a man of +twenty-six or twenty-seven years, of medium height, well set up, with +dark brown hair, a slightly flushed face, sharp eyes, turned-up nose, +and a huge mouth—everything, in short, which denotes a jovial +companion. His costume was a little eccentric: his trousers were +unconscionably full in the legs and very tight at the hips; his +waistcoat was of Scotch plaid with enormous squares, and his coat was so +short that it barely covered half of his posterior. On his head was a +gray hat of an indescribable shape, but remotely resembling a snail's +shell. Lastly, he carried in his hand a light cane with an ivory head, +which head he was forever stuffing into his mouth or his nose, and at +times he scratched his ear with it. Such was Monsieur Fanfan Dodichet, +who, on entering<a name="vol_4_page_164" id="vol_4_page_164"></a> the café, swung his cane in such a way as to strike a +newspaper out of the hands of an old habitué of the place, who was +reading it as he sipped his glass of beer.</p> + +<p>The old gentleman looked up and cast an angry glance at the person who +had torn his newspaper into strips; and Dodichet, instead of apologizing +for his awkwardness, laughed in his face, and remarked:</p> + +<p>"They'll bring you the <i>Tintamarre</i>; it's much more entertaining. I am +sure that you were bored by what you were reading; I saw that when I +came in, and I said to myself: 'There's a man who longs to change his +paper; I'll give him an opportunity.'"</p> + +<p>Without waiting for a reply, Dodichet examined all the occupied tables; +and discovering at last the persons he sought, shouted, as if he were in +his own house:</p> + +<p>"Ah! there they are! those are they! O happy fate!"</p> + +<p>Then he began to sing:</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"'Les montagnards, les montagnards,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .6em;">Les montagnards sont réunis!'"</span></td></tr> +</table> + +<p>"For heaven's sake, hold your tongue, Dodichet!" said Dubotté, affecting +not to see the hand which the new-comer held out to him; "you will +compromise us. The idea of singing like that in a café! What do you look +like, anyway? These people will be giving you a sou!"</p> + +<p>"Well! if everybody here gives me a sou, that will make a very tidy +little sum; but our handsome blond is always afraid of compromising +himself! He is truly superb, this Dubotté!—Do you know, Dubotté, you +make me think of the sun, on my word! I can't look at you without +squinting. But aren't we all here? Good-evening, messieurs! I haven't +forgotten our appointment of five<a name="vol_4_page_165" id="vol_4_page_165"></a> years ago, you see. That surprises +you, doesn't it? well, it surprises me too, on my honor! Ah! there's +Lucien, dear old Lucien, whom I haven't seen, I believe, since our +agreement.—Give us your hand, Lucien—</p> + +<p class="c">"'Cette main, cette main si jolie!'"</p> + +<p>"Good God! is he going to sing again? I'm going away, then."</p> + +<p>"No, Phœbus, don't be alarmed, I won't sing any more—not to please +you, but because I want to talk with Adhémar and Lucien.—Ah! +Adhémar—there's a friend that is a friend; you can always find him when +you want him. But Dubotté! his scent tells him when anyone's going to +ask a favor of him, and he runs away like a stag. I said, like a stag; +the simile is a little <i>risquée</i> perhaps, as our friend is married; but, +never mind! I have said it, and I won't take it back."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I'm not offended, Dodichet. When a man has a wife like mine, he is +above such jests."</p> + +<p>"You're content with your wife, eh? so much the better, I'm glad of +it.—But I say, messieurs, is that all you're going to take? For my +part, the weather makes me thirsty."</p> + +<p>"Very well! order some beer."</p> + +<p>"Beer! oh, no! that's too vulgar; punch, rather."</p> + +<p>"Who ever heard of drinking punch just before dinner?"</p> + +<p>"Why not? all hours are alike to good fellows!—Punch, waiter! rum +punch—and see that it's good; say it's for a connoisseur.—Won't you +have a glass of punch, too, my dear Lucien? it warms you up and makes +you lively!"</p> + +<p>"No, thanks; I won't take anything; I don't need anything."<a name="vol_4_page_166" id="vol_4_page_166"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, you do; pardieu! you'll take some punch with us; just remember +that it is I who invite you!"</p> + +<p>"But I'll answer for it that it won't be he who will pay," said Adhémar, +in an undertone.</p> + +<p>However, when the punch was brought, they all concluded to partake. +Dodichet immediately poured out a second glass for himself, humming:</p> + +<p class="c">"'J'en veux goûter encore, pour en être certain.'"</p> + +<p>But Adhémar silenced him by saying:</p> + +<p>"Messieurs, we four, born at Troyes——"</p> + +<p>"The home of hashed veal," said Dodichet.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Dodichet, you are not going to keep interrupting Adhémar, are you?"</p> + +<p>"Not I; I simply desired to confirm his statement that we were all born +at Troyes.—Go on, Adhémar."</p> + +<p>"Five years ago, we four happened to meet in this same café. I was then +twenty-four years old, and I had been in Paris for some time; but +Philémon Dubotté and Lucien had just arrived, and Dodichet had run +through the inheritance of only one of his uncles. We were old +schoolfellows. Do you know what we said when we met here?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly. Each one of us declared: 'I intend to succeed; to make a +name and station for myself; and I ask only five years to do it in.'"</p> + +<p>"Exactly; and we agreed then to meet again here at the end of five +years, in order to find out whether we had succeeded and had reached our +respective goals."</p> + +<p>"Very good."</p> + +<p>"Now, let each of us in turn tell where he stands, and whether he has +arrived at the goal which he had in view.—Begin, Philémon."<a name="vol_4_page_167" id="vol_4_page_167"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! it's Dubotté's place to begin, because he's the dean in years. +Go on, fascinating blond."</p> + +<p>"Dean in years! I'm not so sure of that."</p> + +<p>"Pshaw! between ourselves, there's no use in prevaricating; we all knew +one another's ages at school."</p> + +<p>"True; but we're not at school now."</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! that's good, that is; it ought to be framed. Dubotté, you are +well over thirty-one."</p> + +<p>"Not very much; only three months."</p> + +<p>"That makes you thirty-one and a quarter."</p> + +<p>"You're at least twenty-eight yourself, Dodichet."</p> + +<p>"I don't conceal my age: I am twenty-seven and a half, Adhémar +twenty-nine, and Lucien twenty-six; he's the youngest of the lot. So +far, so good. I move that Phœbus proceed."</p> + +<p>"All right.—Messieurs, I have no reason to complain of destiny. Having +obtained a position in the Interior Department, where my assiduity, my +zeal, and my fine handwriting procured me rapid promotion, I soon +married; I found a very attractive young lady, who had a good-sized +dowry; I was introduced to her; she liked me and declared that she would +be happy to marry a man employed in the Interior Department. Our +nuptials were celebrated. I have every reason to congratulate myself: my +wife adores me, she sees only through my eyes. My emoluments are +respectable; I am able to live pleasantly; so that I might fairly say +that I have arrived, that my position is assured; but no, messieurs, I +have not yet reached the height to which I aspire. For I am ambitious: I +want to be a sub-prefect, or at least the head of a bureau; but I hope +to arrive before long. <i>Dixi.</i>"</p> + +<p>"Heard and noted. Now it is Adhémar's turn."<a name="vol_4_page_168" id="vol_4_page_168"></a></p> + +<p>"I will be brief, messieurs: I was determined to write; I wrote novels, +I wrote for the stage; my plays have had more success than I dared hope; +in that respect, fortune has constantly favored me, and I earn a good +deal of money. But I have been less fortunate in love; I have loved +women ardently; and when they told me that they loved me alone, I +believed it until I had proof to the contrary; but I have had that proof +so often that I am completely disillusioned. Thereupon I set about +studying the sex; I discovered that all women are coquettes, and +consequently that there is no dependence to be placed on their fidelity; +that made me a misanthrope, or rather a misogynist, for some time; but +then I said to myself that I must take the world as it is, and content +myself with forming liaisons with women which have no other end than +mere sensual pleasure. However, I am sure that I was born to love truly, +and that it would have made me perfectly happy to be loved truly in +return. That is where I stand: I have succeeded, so far as vanity and +wealth are concerned, but I have not succeeded according to the longing +of my heart; and, in my opinion, a man has not arrived when he is not +happy."</p> + +<p>"Very good!" cried Dodichet; "now it's my turn. I am very different from +Adhémar, messieurs, in that I am very happy; for I pass my life enjoying +myself. However, I must agree that I have not as yet a well-defined +position; I have followed so many trades that you might call me an +all-around man. I have had places, in the government service and +elsewhere; but I have kept none of them—I don't know why; yes, I ought +to say, I do know why. Impelled by my irresistible tendency to jest, I +was forever trying to invent some amusing trick to play. When I was a +clerk in a fancy goods shop, I succeeded<a name="vol_4_page_169" id="vol_4_page_169"></a> in mixing up all the different +things, putting on one shelf what should have been put on another, so +that, when customers came, nothing was ever in its place; my employers +shouted and swore, and I roared with laughter. As clerk in one of the +government bureaux, I had for chief a gentleman who never sat down +except on one of those round leather cushions which facilitate +respiration. One day, I abstracted that well-padded cushion, and +substituted for it one that contained nothing but air; when my chief +sank luxuriously into his easy-chair, the cushion burst and flattened +out, with a very compromising explosion. This trifling peccadillo caused +me to lose that place; there are people whose minds—I should say, whose +behinds—are so ill-fashioned! I must confess that, during these various +adventures, instead of earning money, I spent all my inheritances little +by little. But I still have some wealthy kinsmen; I am going to reform; +I have found my real vocation: the stage. Yes, messieurs; I am destined +to shine some day on the stage. I have not yet reached that point, it is +true; but you will see me there; and I propose that you come to this +café, a year hence, to congratulate me on my talent and my triumphs."</p> + +<p>"So be it," said Adhémar; "and now it is Lucien's turn to speak."</p> + +<p>"I begin, messieurs, by telling you frankly that I have not succeeded at +all; and yet I have not been enjoying myself—I have worked, worked +hard, I have tried several branches of business in a small way, but I +have not been successful; often, too, I have been deceived, <i>worked</i>, as +they say, by persons who were supposed to be my partners, but who +pocketed all the profits. But still I have not lost courage; I have just +invented a new kind of pin for ladies' use; something tells me that it +will be popular.<a name="vol_4_page_170" id="vol_4_page_170"></a> I must tell you, too, that I am in love, and that the +father of the woman I love will not give his daughter to any man who is +not well settled in life."</p> + +<p>"What's that! you are in love, my poor Lucien, really in love?" said +Adhémar. "Ah! that is what prevents you from succeeding! I pray you, do +not take that sentiment seriously, or you will be its victim in the end; +it will make you sad and unhappy, and then you will be laughed at."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, Adhémar; but I don't agree with you. On the +contrary, my love, far from making me unhappy, is my only comfort, my +only hope; it supports me in adversity; for the woman I love loves me, +and a word, a smile, from her makes me forget a whole week of gloom."</p> + +<p>"The rascal is loved, you see," said Philémon; "he has won the girl's +heart to her father's beard; I know what that is, myself!"</p> + +<p>"Shall I kidnap your charmer for you, Lucien? shall I think up some +trick to play on her daddy? Don't distress yourself—I am on hand!"</p> + +<p>"No, Dodichet, I thank you; she is not one of the kind who allow +themselves to be kidnapped. She is virtuous and well brought up. She +will never give herself to anyone but her husband; and if she were +different, I should not love her."</p> + +<p>"Very good. But who is this barbarous father who refuses to approve his +daughter's choice?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! he is a miser, a curmudgeon, a man who has no regard for anything +but money. You will understand, from that, that he will not give his +daughter any dowry; on the contrary, he would be more likely to demand +one from his son-in-law."<a name="vol_4_page_171" id="vol_4_page_171"></a></p> + +<p>"What does the old skinflint do?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, so he says; but, between ourselves, I think that he lends +money at usurious rates. He is rich, but he is always complaining of the +hard times; unluckily for him, he married a second time—a woman much +younger than himself, who is supposed to have brought him some money; he +wouldn't have married her otherwise. But she likes to enjoy herself, to +receive company now and then; and that drives Monsieur Mirotaine to +despair, for he wants to avoid any expense that can possibly be +avoided."</p> + +<p>"Mirotaine, did you say, Lucien? Why, I know him; Mirotaine, formerly a +bailiff, who lives now on Rue Saint-Louis, in the Marais?"</p> + +<p>"That's the very man. So you know him, do you, Philémon? Well, is my +portrait of him overdrawn?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed, not at all; he's an old hunks of the first order. He asked +me to come to his evenings, but I learned that for refreshments, in +summer, he gave cocoa."</p> + +<p>"Delightful! And in winter?"</p> + +<p>"In winter, it's much worse—hot cocoa. As you can imagine, that didn't +attract me; so I have never been."</p> + +<p>"Cold cocoa and hot cocoa!" cried Dodichet; "it's hard to believe that. +Does the fellow deal in licorice root?"</p> + +<p>"It's a pity, for his second wife isn't half bad; I would willingly have +flirted a little with her; but I didn't feel that I had the courage to +defy the cocoa!"</p> + +<p>"And his daughter Juliette—isn't she charming?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know her; I have never seen her."</p> + +<p>"Her stepmother is determined to marry her. As she is a good deal of a +flirt, I think that she's jealous of her stepdaughter's beauty; she is +looking everywhere for a husband for her; I heard that she had gone so +far as to<a name="vol_4_page_172" id="vol_4_page_172"></a> apply to a second-hand clothes woman, who arranges +marriages."</p> + +<p>"I say! I say! What's that! Do second-hand clothes women make matches?"</p> + +<p>"A great many, my dear Dodichet, a great many! The business pays well, +as you can imagine; they stipulate that they are to furnish the presents +that the groom always gives the bride. If the groom has no money to pay +for them, they offer to advance it, being certain of getting their pay +out of the bride's dowry."</p> + +<p>"Do you know, that's a shrewd game! I have a mind to go into the +matchmaking business myself. Do you know the name of this hymeneal +procuress?"</p> + +<p>"Madame Putiphar."</p> + +<p>"The devil! the name is promising. I must see her and tell her to find +me a millionairess, and I'll share the dowry with her.—All the same, +he's a miserable old crow, is your Monsieur Miroton<a name="FNanchor_P_16" id="FNanchor_P_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_P_16" class="fnanchor">[P]</a>—Mirotaine. He +must smell of onions. I really must play some good practical joke on +him."</p> + +<p>"I beg you, Dodichet, do nothing of the sort; you would simply get +Juliette into trouble, and that wouldn't help my business any."</p> + +<p>"Your business! Do you really flatter yourself, Lucien, that your pins +will enable you to marry the young woman?"</p> + +<p>"If I make money, yes; but it will take a long time, and meanwhile +Madame Putiphar will find some man who, fascinated by Juliette's +attractions, will agree to marry her without a dowry."</p> + +<p>"Poor Lucien! Give me your address; I'll come and see your pins, and try +to give them a puff."<a name="vol_4_page_173" id="vol_4_page_173"></a></p> + +<p>"I live very modestly, on the sixth floor, on Quai Jemmapes, facing the +bridge, at the corner of Faubourg du Temple."</p> + +<p>"Well, messieurs, I see that we are about to part without being able to +say, any one of us, that we have reached the goal for which we set out."</p> + +<p>"I ask a reprieve for one year, messieurs. In a year, I shall have made +a name for myself on the stage. I shall have succeeded——"</p> + +<p>"And I," said Lucien, "may have been successful in my new undertaking; +in a year's time, perhaps, I shall have started a little business of my +own."</p> + +<p>"I shall be chief of a bureau or sub-prefect."</p> + +<p>"Very good, messieurs," said Adhémar; "the reprieve for a year is +granted; as for myself, I don't imagine that it will change my position +at all."</p> + +<p>Philémon Dubotté rose and left the table, saying:</p> + +<p>"You are very pleasant companions, messieurs; but my wife expects me to +dinner, and if I should be late again I should find her weeping in her +soup. Au revoir, and may destiny be propitious to you!"</p> + +<p>And the handsome blond departed.</p> + +<p>"He goes off without paying," said Dodichet; "our friend doesn't stand +on ceremony."</p> + +<p>"He probably forgot it," said Lucien; "but we three will pay."</p> + +<p>"Sapristi! I find that I forgot to bring my purse!" said Dodichet, +feeling in his pockets.</p> + +<p>Adhémar smiled and made haste to pay the waiter, saying:</p> + +<p>"Allow me to be your host, messieurs; it will give me great pleasure. I +believe you know my address, my dear Lucien; do come to see me +sometimes."<a name="vol_4_page_174" id="vol_4_page_174"></a></p> + +<p>"Thanks, my dear Adhémar; I shall not forget your invitation.—Adieu, +Dodichet!"</p> + +<p>Lucien Grischard also took his leave.</p> + +<p>"He is proud," said Adhémar, as he and Dodichet left the café together. +"He doesn't come to see me, because he is poor and doesn't choose that +anyone shall help him."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, he's wrong. I am not like that, thank you," rejoined +Dodichet; "a man shouldn't be proud with his friends. And so, Adhémar, +d'ye see, I don't hesitate to say to you: I have left my purse at home; +pray lend me a hundred sous. I will pay you the next time I see you."</p> + +<p>"My dear Dodichet, I like above all things to oblige my friends, but you +abuse your privilege. I have lent you many hundred-sou pieces, which you +are always going to repay—but you never do."</p> + +<p>"Very good! listen: lend me ten francs, and I'll pay back a hundred sous +right away."</p> + +<p>Adhémar could not help laughing, and, on the strength of the jest, lent +Dodichet a hundred sous.<a name="vol_4_page_175" id="vol_4_page_175"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="II-ls" id="II-ls"></a>II<br /><br /> +<small>A BURNING DRESS</small></h2> + +<p>Let us leave Philémon Dubotté to return to his wife, casting languishing +glances at all the passably pretty women he meets on his way; let us +leave Lucien Grischard to muse upon possible methods of earning money +without departing from the pathway of honor; and Fanfan Dodichet to +cudgel his brains to invent a practical joke to play on Monsieur +Mirotaine, who regaled his company with cocoa; and let us follow +Adhémar, who had no schemes in his head except that of a comedy of which +he was just planning the dénouement.</p> + +<p>Our author followed the boulevard; he walked rather slowly, paying no +attention to the passers-by; but suddenly he stopped short, or rather +turned and flew toward a lady a few yards away, whose dress had taken +fire as she walked over a burning match which one of those gentlemen who +have the noble habit of smoking while they walk had thrown away, after +lighting his cigar or his pipe, without even taking the trouble to step +on it and extinguish it. If our friends would do so much, they would at +least relieve women from the risk of such dangerous accidents; but what +does a smoker care if a dress does burn, and its wearer too? He has his +smoke, and the rest is all right. In very truth, we have good reason to +exclaim: <i>O tempora! O mores!</i></p> + +<p>The lady's dress was of some thin material; the flame rose quickly to +her waist, and she had not discovered that she was on fire; but when she +was suddenly conscious<a name="vol_4_page_176" id="vol_4_page_176"></a> of being seized by two strong arms, which +arrested and stifled the flames at the risk of burning themselves, the +lady uttered a shriek, and demanded of the man in whose embrace she was +by what right he presumed to take her in his arms. Adhémar replied by +pointing to her dress, one side of which was badly burned.</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! monsieur, I understand now," she exclaimed. "Pray forgive me! +Was I really on fire?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, madame; you must have walked over a lighted match; I happened, +luckily, to be within a few steps; and although I do not always see what +is taking place beside me, I did see the flame just as it was beginning +to make rather rapid progress; and I hastened to your assistance without +stopping to ask your permission; I thought that you would not take it +ill of me."</p> + +<p>"Ah! monsieur, I am so grateful to you! But you have burned yourself!"</p> + +<p>"Only a little, on the left hand. It's a mere trifle."</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the idlers and other inquisitive folk, who always come up +when the danger is over, began to collect around the lady and Adhémar.</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"What has happened?"</p> + +<p>"A lady burned——"</p> + +<p>"Throw water on her!"</p> + +<p>"It's all out. Her dress is baked a little, that's all."</p> + +<p>"She can buy another."</p> + +<p>"What about the gentleman who is so close to her?"</p> + +<p>"It was probably he who burned her—with his cigar."</p> + +<p>"Then he ought to be arrested and taken to the police station."</p> + +<p>"Why, no; he's the one who extinguished the lady; and got a pretty burn +on his left wrist into the bargain."<a name="vol_4_page_177" id="vol_4_page_177"></a></p> + +<p>"The deuce! if he plays the fiddle, that will bother him."</p> + +<p>The hero and heroine of the adventure hastened to force their way +through the crowd and to go into a pharmacy, which, luckily, was only a +few steps away.</p> + +<p>The lady sat down, and asked for a glass of orange water, to restore her +strength after the shock she had received. Adhémar showed the druggist +his burned wrist, which was first bathed in cold water, then covered +with something guaranteed to heal the burn in a short time. But he had +to submit to have his arm bandaged and to carry it in a sling for a +while, for the wound was of considerable size.</p> + +<p>While all this was being done, our two friends had time to look at each +other, and—which was natural enough—tried to make out each other's +individuality. The person who had nearly been burned to death was about +twenty-five years of age, tall and slender and well built; her face, +which usually wore a grave expression, became very attractive when she +smiled; her black eyes were beautiful and very expressive, and the +eyebrows which surmounted them were thin, but perfectly arched. Her hair +was black, her Niobe-like nose but slightly prominent. Taken all in all, +she was a very comely person; she was stylishly dressed, and her manners +denoted high social position.</p> + +<p>Adhémar discovered all this while his arm was being dressed. On her +side, the lady had scrutinized the man who had rendered her such a +signal service, and we know that the scrutiny could not be unfavorable +to him.</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! monsieur, I am terribly distressed. You are really badly +burned," she said, while Adhémar's wrist was being bandaged.<a name="vol_4_page_178" id="vol_4_page_178"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh! no, madame; it will very soon be all right."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the druggist, "very soon; but you will probably carry the +mark of this burn to your dying day."</p> + +<p>"Well, it will be an honorable scar!—Pray consider, madame, that you +might have been seriously burned; what does this amount to, compared +with the danger by which you were threatened?"</p> + +<p>She made no direct reply, but looked down at her dress and cried:</p> + +<p>"It is impossible for me to go out in this condition; the whole skirt of +my dress is burned. Is there no way of getting a cab?"</p> + +<p>"Surely, madame," the druggist replied; "I will send for one for you."</p> + +<p>"I shall be greatly obliged to you, monsieur."</p> + +<p>Adhémar, the bandaging being completed, seemed to hesitate as to what he +should do; but at last he bowed, and said to his companion:</p> + +<p>"As you have no further need of my services, madame, I will take my +leave of you."</p> + +<p>The lady blushed slightly, but she detained Adhémar, saying with some +hesitation:</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, monsieur, for keeping you longer; but I should be very glad +to know the name of the gentleman who risked his—who was badly burned +in my service?—Mon Dieu! I am too presumptuous—I beg your pardon."</p> + +<p>"There is nothing presumptuous in your request, madame; on the contrary, +it is most flattering to me."</p> + +<p>And, as he spoke, Adhémar took his card from his pocket and handed it to +her. She took it, looked at it eagerly, and her face assumed an +expression of satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"I know you already by name and reputation," she said, looking up at +Adhémar with a smile; "I have had<a name="vol_4_page_179" id="vol_4_page_179"></a> the pleasure of seeing most of your +plays, and I congratulate myself upon this opportunity of telling the +author how many pleasant moments I owe to his talent."</p> + +<p>Adhémar could not control a feeling of pride, which showed itself on his +face. What dramatic author, poet, or novelist would be entirely +insensible to such praise, especially when it is uttered with a charming +smile by an intelligent mouth? From the mouth of a fool a compliment +sometimes has a foolish sound, and sometimes produces an absurd effect.</p> + +<p>"I am very fortunate, madame," Adhémar replied, "if my works have +afforded you any diversion; your praise almost makes me vain of my +success. Do you like the theatre, madame?"</p> + +<p>"Very much, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"And you go often?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, as often as a woman can go who is all alone in the world and +must always find some friend who is willing to go with her; for a lady +cannot go to the theatre alone; it is neither amusing nor proper."</p> + +<p>"Ah! madame is—madame has no——"</p> + +<p>"I am a widow, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"That is what I meant to say, madame. Forgive me—I am the presumptuous +one—but I should be very happy to know——"</p> + +<p>"For whom you have risked your life and burned yourself, and whether the +person was worth the trouble?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! madame, pray believe that that is not what I was about to say. In +the first place, it seems to me that every person who is in danger +deserves to be assisted, whatever her appearance or her rank. But with +you, madame, I could not be otherwise than flattered to have<a name="vol_4_page_180" id="vol_4_page_180"></a> had this +adventure. I see that my question was indiscreet, and I withdraw it."</p> + +<p>"And I, monsieur, on the contrary, am determined that you shall know +whom you rescued so unselfishly; I like to believe that you will not +regret your action."</p> + +<p>"It is enough to see you and talk with you, madame, to form a most +favorable opinion of you, and——"</p> + +<p>"Oh! you know that it is not safe to trust to appearances, monsieur. +They are very deceitful, especially in Paris. Take this—take it, I beg +you!"</p> + +<p>As she was speaking, she had taken from a dainty little reticule the +card which she offered to Adhémar; he took it at last, and put it in his +pocket without glancing at it.</p> + +<p>The messenger returned and informed the lady that her carriage was +waiting. She thanked him, and was about to go, after bowing to Adhémar, +when he offered her his hand, saying:</p> + +<p>"Will you not allow me to escort you to your carriage, madame?"</p> + +<p>"With great pleasure, monsieur."</p> + +<p>They went out of the druggist's shop together, the lady having passed +her arm through her escort's, because the sight of a gentleman leading a +lady by the hand, on the boulevard, in broad daylight, would have caused +all the loiterers to stop and stare; less than that is enough to attract +the attention and arouse the curiosity of the Parisian, who is +excessively prone to loiter, and seizes on the wing every possible +opportunity to kill time.</p> + +<p>They soon reached the carriage, which the lady entered; then she said to +Adhémar:</p> + +<p>"It may be that your injured arm will pain you if you walk, monsieur. +Will you not allow me to take you home, or wherever you wish to go?"<a name="vol_4_page_181" id="vol_4_page_181"></a></p> + +<p>"You are a thousand times too kind, madame; but I do not desire to cause +you so much trouble, and I assure you that my hand doesn't pain me at +all."</p> + +<p>She did not insist, but pursed her lips as one does when one is annoyed. +Then she bowed low to Adhémar, and said to the cabman:</p> + +<p>"No. 40, Rue de Paradis-Poissonnière."</p> + +<p>The cabman closed the door, mounted his box, and drove away; and +Adhémar, standing on the same spot, looked after it, muttering:</p> + +<p>"Why on earth did I refuse to let her drive me home? What a fool a man +is, sometimes! You long for a thing—for it would have given me great +pleasure to spend a longer time with her—and you refuse it! Why? I +haven't any good reason to give myself, even. But, yes, I have one! She +is good-looking, I feel certain that she would attract me, that I should +speedily fall in love with her; and I do not propose to fall in love +again! But does that purpose involve a resolution not to form an +agreeable intimacy? And then, what right have I to assume that this lady +would have listened to me?—Let us see what her name is. As for her +address, I remember that; she told the cabman loud enough."</p> + +<p>He took the card from his pocket and read:</p> + +<p>"Nathalie Dermont—nothing more; and there's no <i>widow</i> on the card. Why +is that omitted? But still, if her husband has been dead some time, +she's not bound to go on styling herself <i>widow</i>. She's an exceedingly +attractive woman! A pretty face and figure, and nothing stupid about +her! Ah! that is the principal thing to guard against; for a stupid +woman is deadly! However, I haven't wasted my day, at all events."<a name="vol_4_page_182" id="vol_4_page_182"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="III-ls" id="III-ls"></a>III<br /><br /> +<small>A DEALER IN SECOND-HAND CLOTHES</small></h2> + +<p>Dodichet had as his mistress for the moment—or, rather, as his +companion in pleasure, for, as he had money only occasionally and by +chance, he rarely indulged in the luxury of a mistress—he had, we will +say, for an intimate acquaintance a young woman who danced in the ballet +at one of the smaller theatres, and who was always ready to accept an +invitation to dinner or supper, when he was sufficiently in funds to +allow him to extend such an invitation.</p> + +<p>Dodichet betook himself to the abode of this stage artist, whose name +was Boulotte, and who lived on the fifth floor of a house on Faubourg du +Temple. Mademoiselle Boulotte, who was in the act of compounding a new +kind of mineral rouge, with bricks pounded up in flour, uttered a cry of +joy when Dodichet appeared.</p> + +<p>"Have you come to take me to dine at the restaurant?" she said. "My +word! but it comes just at the right time; I've had nothing but a +sausage to-day, and that's too light."</p> + +<p>"No, Boulotte; no, dear angel of my dreams,—when they are golden,—I +have not come to invite you to dinner; because the tide is low, and I +don't propose to take such a woman as you to any cheap place."</p> + +<p>"Oh! that wouldn't make any difference to me! there are cheap places +where they give you very good stewed rabbit. But still, if you haven't +any money, I'll give you<a name="vol_4_page_183" id="vol_4_page_183"></a> half of my black radish and fried potatoes, +which I'm just going out to buy."</p> + +<p>"You are a dear, good child; you share with a friend all that you +possess. That isn't very much, to be sure; but it's all the more +creditable of you to give away half of it. Thanks, my dear love, but I +cannot accept the feast you offer me. I am on the lookout for a certain +person; I saw him two days ago, but at sight of me he ran like a thief; +I couldn't catch him, but I shall sooner or later!"</p> + +<p>"Is it somebody who owes you money?"</p> + +<p>"No; he doesn't owe me any, but he'll give me some, all the same. Oh! +I'll worm it out of him, and without remorse too, as he's very rich. +Then, I'll give you a regular Belshazzar, with truffles and champagne!"</p> + +<p>"Why will this man give you money?"</p> + +<p>"Because I know his secret."</p> + +<p>"What sort of a secret?"</p> + +<p>"If I should tell you, it wouldn't be a secret any longer."</p> + +<p>"So you think I am very leaky, do you?"</p> + +<p>"My dear little Boulotte, when I know a secret, which may be the goose +with the golden eggs to me, I should be a great fool if I gave it away. +But let's drop the subject; that wasn't what I came here for. Boulotte, +you must do me a favor."</p> + +<p>"One, two, three! go on, don't hesitate; for I'm quite sure you don't +want to borrow money of me."</p> + +<p>"What do you take me for? You probably know some of the women who sell +second-hand clothes and such things, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know several of 'em; but they have pretty poor stuff. Do you +want to buy me a shawl?"<a name="vol_4_page_184" id="vol_4_page_184"></a></p> + +<p>"Nonsense! do you know one named Madame Putiphar?"</p> + +<p>"Madame Putiphar? No, I don't know her; do you want to make her +acquaintance?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I counted on you to find her for me."</p> + +<p>"Oh! that's easy enough! I'll ask Sara and Clara and Cora—they know so +many of those women. In two days I shall be able to give you all the +information you want concerning this honest tradeswoman."</p> + +<p>"Very well. To assist you in your investigations, you can say that she +arranges marriages."</p> + +<p>"That's very definite! they all do."</p> + +<p>"Really! I fancy that they disarrange a good many too. No matter—do my +errand; I leave you to your radish and your fried potatoes; don't eat +too much. You will see me again in three days; and if I have found my +man, we will have, not stewed rabbit, but a salmi of truffled partridges +together."</p> + +<p>Three days later, Dodichet called again on Mademoiselle Boulotte, and +found her still at work on her mineral rouge, for which she hoped to +obtain a patent. Dodichet was radiant; he waltzed into the room, and +began by taking the <i>figurante</i> in his arms and whirling her about +without giving her time to put down her brick and her hammer, despite +her cries:</p> + +<p>"Let go, I say! or, at any rate, let me put down my brick!"</p> + +<p>"Do you know the waltz from <i>L'Auberge des Adrets</i>, Boulotte—the one +Frédérick used to dance so well in his picturesque costume as Robert +Macaire? I can dance that waltz just a little."</p> + +<p>"Let me put down my brick. Pshaw! there it goes, and it's all smashed!"<a name="vol_4_page_185" id="vol_4_page_185"></a></p> + +<p>"Well! as long as you were going to smash it with a hammer anyway, you +have so much less to do."</p> + +<p>"That's different. I shall lose half of it on the floor! What in the +world's the matter with you to-day that makes you so gay?"</p> + +<p>"Parbleu! I have found my man—my Sicilian."</p> + +<p>"Ah! the man with a secret?"</p> + +<p>"Just so."</p> + +<p>"And he's a Sicilian?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a Sicilian from Pontoise. Ah! what a fool I am! what did I say +that for? Don't repeat that, Boulotte, I beg you. If you ever see me +anywhere with a man you don't know, don't let the word Pontoise escape +you—or everything's over between us!"</p> + +<p>"What silly nonsense is this you are giving me? You act like a crazy +man!"</p> + +<p>"Let's drop that. Have you done my errand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur; I have done your errand. I was sure that Rosa, who knows +all the second-hand clothes women in Paris, would know her; she sold her +not long ago a steel comb, which she owed to the munificence of an +Englishman, with two teeth broken——"</p> + +<p>"The Englishman?"</p> + +<p>"No, the comb!"</p> + +<p>"Very good. Rosa's one of your companions at the theatre, isn't she? a +brunette with yellow eyes, and complexion to match?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but never mind about her; you promised me a salmi of partridges if +you found your man with the secret—you see—I didn't say, your man from +Pontoise."</p> + +<p>"Hush! imprudent girl! I was coming to the salmi in a minute, when I +spoke about Rosa. Our feast will take place at her room—day after +to-morrow, at noon, to<a name="vol_4_page_186" id="vol_4_page_186"></a> give her time to tell Putiphar to come there +that day about one; I shall be there, you understand, and I shall have +told you and Rosa what to say to her so that my plan may succeed."</p> + +<p>"Are you going to play a joke on someone?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure."</p> + +<p>"Never fear, then! we'll tell her all the foolish stuff you want."</p> + +<p>"I have never doubted it. It's understood, then—day after to-morrow, at +twelve o'clock, at Rosa's.—Does she still live on Rue de Lancry?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I promise you a breakfast of swallows' nests, like the Chinese."</p> + +<p>"No, no, I don't want that! The idea of eating birds' nests! what a +horror!"</p> + +<p>"Then we will transform them into charlotte russe."</p> + +<p>"All right! Order the breakfast at Lecomte's, corner of Rue de Lancry +and the boulevard; that's a nice restaurant."</p> + +<p>"Never you fear; I know the good places."</p> + +<p>Mademoiselle Rosa, Boulotte's fellow <i>figurante</i>, occupied a small +fourth-floor apartment on Rue de Lancry, very daintily furnished; for, +although she had yellow eyes and complexion, she always had richer +protectors than several of her companions who were far prettier than +she. Why was that? I decline to tell you.</p> + +<p>On the appointed day, about half-past twelve, Dodichet was seated at the +table, between Boulotte and Rosa, in the tiny dining-room of the +latter's apartment. The table was covered with dishes, upon which they +had already made savage attacks, and with bottles embellished with +divers seals and containing wines of different colors.<a name="vol_4_page_187" id="vol_4_page_187"></a></p> + +<p>They were in very high spirits, laughing while they ate, and drinking +while they laughed.</p> + +<p>"Mesdemoiselles," said Dodichet, uncorking a bottle of champagne, "I +have told you the joke—the jest—the trick, in fact, which I want to +play. You have promised to help me."</p> + +<p>"We promise again."</p> + +<p>"I swear it by my lover's hair!" said Rosa.</p> + +<p>"Oho! but I believe your lover's bald, isn't he?—However, never +mind—you know what you're to say to Madame Putiphar when she comes?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! we know our rôles; you'll be content with us."</p> + +<p>"But the woman doesn't come! suppose she should go back on us?"</p> + +<p>"No danger! I told her I wanted a brooch."</p> + +<p>"For your kitchen?"<a name="FNanchor_Q_17" id="FNanchor_Q_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_Q_17" class="fnanchor">[Q]</a></p> + +<p>"Why, no; to wear at my neck. Hark—someone is ringing—I'll bet that's +she!"</p> + +<p>And, in a moment, the maid came in and said to Rosa:</p> + +<p>"Madame Putiphar is here."</p> + +<p>"Well, show her in; she won't keep us from eating."</p> + +<p>Almost on the instant there appeared a short but enormously stout woman, +apparently somewhat between forty and fifty years of age; who had been, +perhaps, in her prime, a piquant brunette, but was now simply a brunette +without the piquancy, or rather a black; for her hair, whose thick +plaits almost covered her cheeks, was of such a glossy ebon blackness +that, at first sight, taken with her face, which was flushed and pimply, +it made her head look as if it had been varnished. She was well supplied +with clothes, too well supplied, in fact, for she wore two shawls,—a +large one, with a smaller one over<a name="vol_4_page_188" id="vol_4_page_188"></a> it,—a high collarette, with a +cravat twisted round it; a cap, and over it a bonnet decorated with a +lot of frippery; in addition, she carried a flat box under her arm, +which led Dodichet to observe:</p> + +<p>"This woman evidently carries a large part of her stock in trade about +with her."</p> + +<p>"Good-day, Putiphar!"</p> + +<p>"Hail, Madame Putiphar!"</p> + +<p>"Sit down, Putiphar. When I wrote you to come, I didn't know that +Monsieur Dodichet, a commission merchant in sugar, would treat Boulotte +and me to this impromptu feast of champagne and truffles mixed, this +morning.—But that doesn't make any difference; for you're in no hurry, +I take it?"</p> + +<p>The corpulent dame replied by repeated courtesies, accompanied by loving +glances at the table, mumbling:</p> + +<p>"Oh! mesdames, don't let me disturb you at all! It smells good here, and +I'm in no hurry; I'll watch you eat."</p> + +<p>"Won't you take a glass of champagne with us, madame?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! monsieur is very polite——"</p> + +<p>"Accept, Putiphar, accept; nobody ever refuses a glass of champagne!"</p> + +<p>"I am tempted——"</p> + +<p>"With a biscuit in it, eh?"</p> + +<p>"I should prefer, if it's all the same to you, the chicken wing I see on +that dish."</p> + +<p>"That's all right. Draw up to the table.—Manette, a plate for Madame +Putiphar.—Will you have some pâté de foie gras too?"</p> + +<p>"You tempt me—but, really, I am ashamed of myself. Monsieur will think +I'm a great glutton."<a name="vol_4_page_189" id="vol_4_page_189"></a></p> + +<p>"That's not a failing, madame; it's a good quality."</p> + +<p>Madame Putiphar took her place at the table, stuffed herself with +chicken, pâté, and truffles, partook freely of claret, madeira, and +champagne, and never paused for breath until the dessert was being +brought on. Then she wiped her mouth, saying:</p> + +<p>"A very pretty little feast; monsieur knows how to treat the ladies."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Dodichet's very polite," said Boulotte; "he's eaten up a lot of +money with women."</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! mesdames, what is the good of money, if not to give you +pleasure?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! what a sweet sentiment! Monsieur deserves to be embalmed."</p> + +<p>"What's that! embalmed?"</p> + +<p>"I meant to say, turned into a statuette."</p> + +<p>"Unfortunately, you've become very rare lately, Dodichet," said Rosa; +"we hardly ever see you."</p> + +<p>"It isn't my fault! I am not my own master since my intimate friend +Count Miflorès came to Paris."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! that Sicilian, who's so rich!"</p> + +<p>"He doesn't know the amount of his fortune."</p> + +<p>"Is he a relation of yours?"</p> + +<p>"No; but I rendered him an important service in Sicily; he was on the +point of falling into a volcano; did you know there were volcanoes in +Sicily?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, mountains that spit fire; I saw one in a play, at La Gaieté."</p> + +<p>"My Sicilian, who is very inquisitive and very brave, had ascended Mount +Ætna, and was looking into the mouth of the crater; suddenly he dropped +his cane, and it fell into the fiery gulf. Count Miflorès thought a +great deal of that cane, which he had inherited from his mother;<a name="vol_4_page_190" id="vol_4_page_190"></a> he was +going down into the crater to try to recover it, which would have been +to go to certain destruction! Luckily, I was there—with my dog, a +magnificent Newfoundland. I pointed to the hole, and to the cane, of +which we could see one end, and said: 'Go, seek! go, seek!'—My dog +understood me; he rushed down into the crater, and soon returned with +the cane between his teeth and laid it at my feet. I gave it to the +count, who was overjoyed, and who swore everlasting friendship to me +from that day."</p> + +<p>"Ah! the brave count! no, I mean the brave dog! You ought to have given +him a good dinner when you got home!"</p> + +<p>"Alas! the poor beast never got home; after a minute or two, he fell +dead at my feet; he was roasted, the heat of the crater had cooked him!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! what an idea! And still he brought back the cane, roasted as he +was?"</p> + +<p>"His devotion sustained him.—But it seems to me, mesdames, that it is +high time to attack this nougat and water it with a little alicante."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; let's attack it and water it!—Take some nougat, Putiphar."</p> + +<p>"You tempt me. I would make a fool of myself for this alicante!"</p> + +<p>"What has your Sicilian come to Paris for?"</p> + +<p>"In the first place, to see this wonderful city, which everybody aspires +to know, and which no one ever wants to leave when he has once tasted +its joys. Secondly, the devil of a fellow has a curious whimsey in his +head: he wants to marry."</p> + +<p>"You call that a whimsey, monsieur? why, it's a most prevalent idea."<a name="vol_4_page_191" id="vol_4_page_191"></a></p> + +<p>"Look here, you'd better not talk against marriage before Putiphar, +Dodichet; she'll never forgive you."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I'll forgive monsieur for anything—he treats the ladies so +handsomely; but I would like to convert him."</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! madame, although I am not thinking of marriage for myself, I +assure you that I have no wish to disgust others with it; and the proof +is that I'm looking for a wife for my rich Sicilian."</p> + +<p>"A wife? You're looking for a wife for him, monsieur? Oh! in that +case—I beg your pardon, a sip of alicante, if you please—I may have +what you want."</p> + +<p>"Faith! madame, if you can find me somebody suited to my friend, you +would give me great pleasure; for I haven't much time to give to it. I +have more orders for sugar than I can handle; I am obliged to neglect my +business, and I don't like it."</p> + +<p>"I must ask you one important question first of all, monsieur: is your +count rich?"</p> + +<p>"I think I have already told you that he doesn't know the amount of his +fortune."</p> + +<p>"Then I suppose he wants his wife to be rich, too?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all; he cares nothing at all for money; he has enough for two."</p> + +<p>"Really! he won't ask for any dowry?"</p> + +<p>"A dowry! why, if the woman's father should be so ill-advised as to +mention such a thing, he would be quite capable of knocking him down! He +would consider it an insult."</p> + +<p>"Phew! what a noble-minded man!—A little more alicante, please."</p> + +<p>"And some chartreuse?"</p> + +<p>"In a minute, Monsieur Godichet."</p> + +<p>"Dodichet."<a name="vol_4_page_192" id="vol_4_page_192"></a></p> + +<p>"That don't make any difference. For heaven's sake, what does your count +want in his wife?"</p> + +<p>"This: in the first place, he wants her to be young."</p> + +<p>"That goes without saying."</p> + +<p>"Good figure, pretty——"</p> + +<p>"Those are mere trifles."</p> + +<p>"And—she must be really unmarried; do you understand?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly. I have what he wants, monsieur; I have it, and everybody +can't say as much!"</p> + +<p>"Are you sure? will you guarantee it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur; as I'm an honest woman!—A young lady, brought up in the +best way by strict parents, who never goes out alone——"</p> + +<p>"This seems to me to fit the case to perfection.—By the way, there's +one other condition: my Sicilian is particular that she shall be a +Parisian; he insists on that; he thinks that no women but the Parisians +can wear hoopskirts gracefully."</p> + +<p>"My young lady is a Parisian, monsieur; born, I believe, on Rue du +Pont-aux-Choux, the very centre of Paris."</p> + +<p>"The centre of the Marais, you mean, Putiphar."</p> + +<p>"That's all the same."</p> + +<p>"Yes; Miflorès doesn't insist that his future wife must have been born +in the Chaussée d'Antin, especially as he never heard of it. Is the +family respectable? We are particular about that, you see. A Sicilian +count wouldn't want to ally himself with a dealer in rabbit skins—you +can understand that."</p> + +<p>"Oh! it's a most respectable family, monsieur. Monsieur Mirotaine, the +father, is an ex-bailiff."</p> + +<p>"You are quite sure?"<a name="vol_4_page_193" id="vol_4_page_193"></a></p> + +<p>"Positive, monsieur. He don't do anything now—he lives on his income. +Juliette's mother—mademoiselle's name is Juliette—is dead; Monsieur +Mirotaine is married again, to a woman much younger than he is; from +which you can conclude that the stepmother is in a hurry to marry off +her stepdaughter."</p> + +<p>"Very good! things seem to run as smoothly as if they were on wheels."</p> + +<p>"Now, will you allow me to take my turn and ask you a few questions, +monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"I should say so! all the questions you please, Madame Joseph—I should +say, Madame Putiphar! Have some chartreuse—to drink with these +damsels!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, let's take a drink!—Do you like chartreuse, Putiphar?"</p> + +<p>"If it's green, I'm afraid of it; it's too strong."</p> + +<p>"This is yellow, and that other green."</p> + +<p>"In that case, I'll let you tempt me. My word! but Monsieur Godichet can +brag of knowing how to do things in good shape!"</p> + +<p>Madame Putiphar sipped the yellow chartreuse, but it did not make her +forget the great stroke of business of which she had caught a glimpse.</p> + +<p>"Will you be good enough to tell me your count's age first of all, +monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"Thirty-six; he looks forty, but it's his own doing."</p> + +<p>"The age is all right; how about his physique?"</p> + +<p>"That corresponds with his age: a fine figure, noble carriage, fresh as +a rose; his nose is a little large, but he will fix that all right by +blowing it!"</p> + +<p>"Faith! monsieur, everything seems to harmonize on both sides. Allow me +to mention your friend to the Mirotaine family to-day; and as soon as he +chooses to call——"<a name="vol_4_page_194" id="vol_4_page_194"></a></p> + +<p>"One moment, my dear woman; we can't go so fast as that with Miflorès. +He's a peculiar fellow; he is timid and, furthermore, extremely +sensitive."</p> + +<p>"Do you want Monsieur Mirotaine to call on him?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed! that would spoil everything."</p> + +<p>"What are we to do, then? Look you, I believe I'll risk a little green +chartreuse; we must get accustomed to everything."</p> + +<p>"You are quite right. I drink to the fair sex, of which you are a part, +Madame Putiphar."</p> + +<p>"I have always hoped so, monsieur. Here's to yours! Hum! this is strong, +and very penetrating! Well, monsieur, how are we to go to work to +arrange a match between your count and my young and innocent Juliette?"</p> + +<p>"Listen to me carefully: I'll set you the pace. In the first place, +Miflorès will never consent to present himself right away in any family, +as a marrying man; he wishes to study, to examine the young lady at his +ease—to know her, in short—and I shall be very careful not to tell him +that she knows that it is his intention to marry her; moreover, as my +friend is very timid, he always insists on my going with him. I will +invent some pretext for calling on your Mirotaines; I will tell the +count that I am negotiating an important transaction with the papa, and +that I need a guarantor. Then he will be perfectly willing to go with +me."</p> + +<p>"All that is simple enough, monsieur; I will tell Monsieur Mirotaine +that you have a great deal of influence over his prospective +son-in-law."</p> + +<p>"And you will tell no falsehood, I beg you to believe. By the way, +there's another matter: my friend is in the habit of dining wherever he +goes; it's a noble habit, contracted in Sicily. If he isn't asked to +dinner, he has the<a name="vol_4_page_195" id="vol_4_page_195"></a> worst possible opinion of the people to whose house +I have taken him. Moreover, he's a great gourmand; an excellent dinner, +with plenty of good wine and dainty dishes, will dispose him favorably."</p> + +<p>"The deuce! that makes the thing rather harder, monsieur; for I must +tell you that Monsieur Mirotaine is a little close in the matter of +spending money—a little miserly, I may as well say it. He never gives a +dinner party. If, by any chance, he does invite anyone, it's always on +condition that he brings his own dishes."</p> + +<p>"I can assure you that we won't bring anything at all! If that's the +case, there's nothing to be done!"</p> + +<p>"It seems to me," said Rosa, "that a man can well afford to put out a +little money for once, to catch a rich noble for a son-in-law, who takes +his daughter without a sou."</p> + +<p>"I should think so!" cried Boulotte; "such a husband as that is a +treasure!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear loves, you are right. We won't give it up, Monsieur +Godichet; I'll just speak to the stepmother; she'll back me up, for +she'll be delighted to be allied to a count. She will make her husband +listen to reason, and he'll give the dinner."</p> + +<p>"All right!"</p> + +<p>"And if Monsieur Godichet cared to go and see Monsieur Mirotaine in the +meantime?"</p> + +<p>"There's no sort of need of it; I won't go till the day we're invited to +dinner, and if it wasn't for the sake of obliging my friend I wouldn't +go at all; but a man must sacrifice himself for his friends."</p> + +<p>"I must leave you, mesdames; I can't go about this business too soon."</p> + +<p>"Go, Putiphar, go; it's worth your while."<a name="vol_4_page_196" id="vol_4_page_196"></a></p> + +<p>"As soon as I've had a day fixed for the dinner, I'll write to you, +Monsieur Godichet."</p> + +<p>"Dodichet, I tell you!"</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon—Dodichet. By the way, your address, if you please?"</p> + +<p>"I live at the Grand Hôtel; but I'm never to be found there; it's so +grand! Come and give these young ladies your message, and they'll send +it to me at once."</p> + +<p>"Agreed. It may take two or three days, perhaps, to bring Monsieur +Mirotaine to the point of giving a dinner party; but we'll succeed. Au +revoir, Monsieur—Dodichet!—I got it right that time, eh? By the way, +if the marriage comes off, as I hope, I stipulate that I am to furnish +the trousseau and all the presents the bridegroom gives his bride."</p> + +<p>"You shall furnish everything, Madame Putiphar, everything; even the +husband's suspenders, if he wears any that day."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Monsieur Dodichet, you're a very agreeable man!"</p> + +<p>"Have another little glass of the green before you go?"</p> + +<p>"You tempt me.—Mademoiselle Rosa, we'll talk about that brooch some +other day."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, Putiphar; there's no hurry."</p> + +<p>Whereupon the wardrobe dealer, whose complexion had changed to purple as +a result of all that she had drunk, executed a graceful courtesy, none +the less, and withdrew.<a name="vol_4_page_197" id="vol_4_page_197"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="IV-ls" id="IV-ls"></a>IV<br /><br /> +<small>TWO FRIENDS</small></h2> + +<p>Mademoiselle Juliette, Monsieur Mirotaine's daughter, was nearly +nineteen years of age, but was such a gentle and timid young woman that +one would readily have mistaken her for a schoolgirl of twelve. She +trembled before her father, who always treated her harshly; and ever +since she had had a stepmother, her life had been passed in doing the +will of one or the other. Let us hasten to say, however, that Madame +Mirotaine II was no tyrant; indeed, she was not unkind at heart; but she +was anxious to get rid of her stepdaughter, because she herself was +inclined to be coquettish, and Juliette was exceedingly pretty. Although +her timidity made her seem like a child, physically speaking she was a +lovely girl of nineteen, with a graceful figure, clear white skin, and +brown hair; her mouth was beautiful, her teeth small and even, her +almond-shaped eyes were charming in the softness of their expression; +but she kept them almost always on the ground, at least before her +parents; I like to think that she raised them sometimes when she was +talking with Lucien.</p> + +<p>Juliette was very easily moved; that could be divined from her eyes and +the tones of her voice; she had listened at first with pleasure, then +with love, to the declarations of young Lucien, who had long been in the +habit of calling at Monsieur Mirotaine's, whose commissions and errands +he was always ready to undertake. But he<a name="vol_4_page_198" id="vol_4_page_198"></a> was not welcomed there so +cordially since he had dared to ask Monsieur Mirotaine for his +daughter's hand.</p> + +<p>"My daughter has no dowry," the father had replied; "you haven't a sou, +nor any place, nor any trade; so you can't marry her. Earn some money, +work up a flourishing business, and I'll give you my daughter."</p> + +<p>"Then, monsieur, promise to keep her for me till I have succeeded."</p> + +<p>"No, indeed; that might be altogether too long. I shall marry Juliette +as soon as I have found a good match for her; meanwhile I am perfectly +willing that you should come to my house and do my errands when I have +any, but on condition that you are never to be alone with my daughter, +and that you never mention the subject of love to her."</p> + +<p>Lucien promised; indeed, he had to promise, in order to be allowed to +continue his visits to the house; but, as will be seen, the lovers were +in a very melancholy plight, and they could hardly find a minute to +exchange a word of love in secret.</p> + +<p>Luckily for Juliette, she had a friend upon whose bosom she could pour +out her heart, to whom she told all her troubles and her hopes—in +short, everything that took place in her heart and in her mind.</p> + +<p>She was a boarding-school friend, but was six years older than Juliette; +they were in perfect accord, however, in their views, their feelings, +and their sentiments. The friend had married immediately upon leaving +school; she had not been able to obtain permission for Juliette, who was +then only fourteen, to come to her wedding; but Juliette's father had +consented to her receiving her friend's visits. Knowing that she was +rich, Monsieur Mirotaine thought that she could not be an undesirable +acquaintance for his daughter.<a name="vol_4_page_199" id="vol_4_page_199"></a></p> + +<p>It is needless to say that when Juliette fell in love with Lucien her +passion was confided to her tender-hearted friend, as well as the +disappointments of the lovers, their hopes, and their plans for the +future. Meanwhile, the friend had lost her husband; but as she had not +married for love, it is probable that she shed very few tears on her +young friend's breast.</p> + +<p>It was two o'clock in the afternoon; Juliette was alone in her chamber +and even more melancholy than usual; we shall soon know the reason. She +had at least the satisfaction of having a chamber to herself, where she +could weep at her ease; a narrow corridor led to it from the +reception-room, so that to reach it one was not obliged to pass the +whole suite. Hence, the girl might, in an emergency, have received a +secret visit from Lucien; he might have slipped into her room from the +dining-room. But Juliette would not allow it; she felt that it would be +wrong to receive a young man secretly in her bedroom; she did not wish +to expose herself to her stepmother's remonstrances and her father's +anger. But Juliette was unhappy; she sighed, and sometimes wept a large +part of the day.</p> + +<p>It was with a cry of joy, therefore, and a feeling of the utmost +satisfaction that she saw that friend enter her room, to whom alone she +could pour out her heart.</p> + +<p>"Ah! Nathalie, at last!" said Juliette, running to meet the young widow, +who began by kissing her. "What a long time since you came to see me! +fie, madame! it is wicked of you to neglect me so, when I have no other +friend, no other consolation, but you! Come, sit down here with me this +minute. Oh! how happy it makes me to see you!"<a name="vol_4_page_200" id="vol_4_page_200"></a></p> + +<p>"Don't scold me, my dear Juliette; the reason that I haven't been to see +you for some time is that I haven't been very well."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear! that was all that was wanting—that you should be sick! You +ought to have written to me; I would have shown father your letter, and +he couldn't have refused to let me go to see you and nurse you."</p> + +<p>"It wasn't worth while; it's all over now, as you see."</p> + +<p>"Why, no—no, you are a little pale."</p> + +<p>"I always am. But you have a pair of red eyes; what does that mean? You +have been crying; is there anything new? doesn't Lucien love you any +more?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! poor boy—I see in his eyes that he still loves me; he can't +tell me so except with his eyes, but I can understand what they say."</p> + +<p>"What is the matter, then?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! mon Dieu! the matter is that they are still bent on marrying me, +especially my stepmother, who wants to get rid of me; and this time it +seems that they have found a husband for me. It's that infernal +second-hand dealer, Madame Putiphar, who has planned it all. She +promised my stepmother to bear me in mind. And now they say she's found +a superb match for me: a Neapolitan or Sicilian count—or some kind of +an Italian nobleman, immensely rich, who doesn't want a dowry!—do you +hear? no dowry! That is what captivates father."</p> + +<p>"Have you seen this count?"</p> + +<p>"No, not yet, thank God! but it appears that I am to see him soon; we're +to give a dinner for him and one of his friends, who always accompanies +him."</p> + +<p>"Your father is going to give a dinner party? it isn't possible!"<a name="vol_4_page_201" id="vol_4_page_201"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh! he didn't want to; but it seems that this count is in the habit of +dining in every house he goes to—he and his friend; my stepmother +Aldegonde brought my father to the point. 'You must give this dinner,' +she said, 'and let it be a handsome one; a rich and noble son-in-law is +well worth going to some little expense.'—Father swore, but he +yielded—and the day is fixed: the day after to-morrow, my prospective +husband is to dine with us. And that is why I am crying! why I am so +unhappy! And I saw in Lucien's eyes that he knew all about it; Aldegonde +probably told him, just to be nasty."</p> + +<p>"Come, come, my poor Juliette, don't get so excited; this marriage +hasn't come off yet. You are very pretty, but perhaps your style of +beauty won't please this Italian."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I'll make faces at him."</p> + +<p>"A thousand things may happen to prevent it. Has your father made any +inquiries about the man?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think so; he relies on Madame Putiphar's word, and she praises +him in the highest terms, as well as his friend, who's a commission +merchant in something or other."</p> + +<p>"A commission merchant in marriages, I should say! However, I prefer to +believe that your father wouldn't marry you to a man without knowing +something about him. And, do you know, there's one thing in all this +that seems so perfectly absurd to me—that is, the idea of this rich +nobleman absolutely insisting on being invited out to dinner—he and his +friend! That has every appearance of a joke, do you know!"</p> + +<p>"That is so. You are right! It doesn't seem altogether natural."</p> + +<p>"I don't know why, but I suspect some sort of a scheme in all this. +There are so many schemers in<a name="vol_4_page_202" id="vol_4_page_202"></a> Paris! Look you, my dear, this marriage +isn't made yet, and something tells me that it never will be."</p> + +<p>"Bless you, my dear Nathalie! you renew my hopes, you bring back joy to +my heart! Ah! how good it was of you to come!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and you have no idea that you came very near never seeing me +again; that I have been in great danger."</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! how you frighten me! what has happened, in heaven's name?"</p> + +<p>"My dress caught fire, my love; it was all ablaze, and I never suspected +it!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! heaven!"</p> + +<p>"Don't be alarmed; the danger must have passed, as I am here."</p> + +<p>"Was it long ago?"</p> + +<p>"Not more than a week.—I was walking on the boulevard; it seems that my +dress came in contact with a lighted match, which our gentlemanly +friends are in the habit of strewing along their path, presumably to +gratify themselves by roasting us alive! My dress was on fire, and I had +no idea of it, when suddenly I felt two strong arms surround me—yes, +hug me; I started to cry out, I thought that it was an insult—my dear, +my life had been saved! A young man, at the risk of burning himself to +death, had sacrificed himself in order to extinguish the fire, and he +did it very adroitly, but at the cost of quite a bad burn on his wrist."</p> + +<p>"Oh! the poor fellow! I wish I could thank him. Was he a workingman?"</p> + +<p>"No; a very elegant young man—and very good-looking. We were surrounded +in a moment; you know how inquisitive everybody is in Paris. Luckily, +there was a druggist's shop within a few steps, and we took refuge<a name="vol_4_page_203" id="vol_4_page_203"></a> +there; and while my rescuer's arm was being dressed, we talked a little. +You can understand that I was anxious to know who it was to whom I was +so deeply indebted; I asked him his name, and he gave me his card; he +was Monsieur Adhémar Monbrun—a dramatist who writes delightful plays. +You don't know him, poor darling, for they never take you to the +theatre!"</p> + +<p>"No, but I know the name through Lucien. This Adhémar Monbrun is a +friend of his; he has often spoken to me about him, and he speaks very +highly of him."</p> + +<p>"Really? Monsieur Lucien knows him, and speaks very highly of him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; he says that he is a very generous man, always ready to help his +friends. Indeed, he has said to me more than once: 'If I wanted money, I +am very sure that Adhémar would lend me some; but, in my opinion, a man +ought not to borrow when he doesn't know how he can repay the +loan.'—But finish your story."</p> + +<p>"Oh! it's almost finished.—When he gave me his card, I thought it best +to give him mine; for I didn't want him to think he had rescued a +lorette, or a bitch—as they call prostitutes now. Then I sent for a +cab, for I couldn't walk home with my dress all burned. The cab came, +and Monsieur Adhémar escorted me to it; I offered to drive him home, for +he had to carry his arm in a sling. That was natural enough, wasn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Surely. Poor fellow! is he badly burned?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, on the wrist; it will not be serious; but he will probably retain +the mark. He declined my offer, and left me."</p> + +<p>"Ah! and was that all?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"It's a pity!"<a name="vol_4_page_204" id="vol_4_page_204"></a></p> + +<p>"What a child you are! Oh! there was something else, though."</p> + +<p>"What was it? what was it? I had a shrewd idea that it wasn't finished."</p> + +<p>"I thought that it would be discourteous of me, knowing his address, not +to send to inquire how his burn was getting along; for, you see, it was +for me, it was in assisting me, that he was injured."</p> + +<p>"Why, of course; and it was your duty to inquire."</p> + +<p>"Still, I hesitated a long while."</p> + +<p>"Why so?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! because—I don't know—I was afraid it would seem as if I wanted to +force that young man to think about me."</p> + +<p>"Really? was that the reason?"</p> + +<p>"Dear me! how spiteful you are this morning!—At last, I concluded to do +it; and three days ago I sent my servant to inquire about the burn. She +saw him, and he told her that it was almost well, that he thanked me +very much for the interest I was good enough to take in him, and that he +should have the honor of coming himself to thank me."</p> + +<p>"Oho! so he has been to see you, has he?"</p> + +<p>"No; that was three days ago, and he hasn't been yet. He probably said +it to be polite; he won't come."</p> + +<p>"I'll bet that he will."</p> + +<p>"He may come or not, as he pleases; after all, it makes no difference to +me."</p> + +<p>"Oh! what a lie!"</p> + +<p>"Juliette!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's a lie; it does make a difference to you! Tell me, Nathalie, +am I not to be your confidante, as you are mine? You have often said to +me: 'I made a<a name="vol_4_page_205" id="vol_4_page_205"></a> marriage of reason; I have never known what it is to +love; but it must be a very pleasant thing. I am bored sometimes when I +am alone; if I loved somebody, it seems to me that I should never be +bored.'"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have said all that to you; what then?"</p> + +<p>"Well—let me look into your eyes. Come, I'll bet that you are never +bored now."</p> + +<p>"What an idea, Juliette! You will have it that I am in love with a man +whom I hardly know, who has never spoken to me but once, and who has no +desire to see me again—as you see!"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! I don't say that you love him; but I think that he attracted +you—that you might have fallen in love with him."</p> + +<p>"Well, yes! yes, my dear friend; yes, he did attract me; yes—— I don't +know whether it is gratitude for the great service he rendered me, +or—— Oh! I won't conceal anything from you! Ever since that day, I +don't know what has been the matter with me: I have been nervous and +sad; everything irritates me; I keep wanting to cry; I think of him all +the time; I tell myself that I am a fool, that I lack common sense. But +I am not bored any more—no, no, I am never bored now!"</p> + +<p>And Nathalie threw her arms about her friend; her heart had longed for a +vent, and it was relieved as of a burden. Then she continued:</p> + +<p>"And Lucien knows him? Oh! how I would like to see Lucien! I would ask +him a thousand questions. But you say he speaks highly of him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, very.—By the way, I remember——"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"No, I won't tell you that."<a name="vol_4_page_206" id="vol_4_page_206"></a></p> + +<p>"Is it something concerning Monsieur Adhémar? I insist upon your telling +me, and telling me instantly!"</p> + +<p>"Well, Lucien said: 'It's a pity that Adhémar will never believe that +anyone loves him; it is true that he has been deceived so often by his +mistresses that it may well have made him distrustful; but he carries it +too far now; he has sworn never to love any woman again.'"</p> + +<p>"That's a drunken man's oath, my dear love," said Nathalie, with a +smile; "and that young man isn't old enough to keep it."</p> + +<p>"But tell me, my dear, is there anything new? Have you had no news?"</p> + +<p>"Of whom?"</p> + +<p>"You know to whom I refer."</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, I understand; but, really, my adventure with Monsieur Adhémar +has made me entirely forget the person you speak of. No, thank heaven, I +haven't seen him again!"</p> + +<p>"I am so glad! when I think of him, do you know, I am always afraid for +you."</p> + +<p>"What a child you are!"</p> + +<p>At that moment, Madame Mirotaine II entered the room.</p> + +<p>"Your father's asking for you, Juliette," she said.—"Ah! your servant, +madame! excuse me for disturbing you."</p> + +<p>"Not at all, madame; I was just going when you came in; in any event, I +would not keep Juliette from obeying her father's summons.—Au revoir, +dear girl!"</p> + +<p>As Nathalie kissed her, Juliette whispered in her ear:</p> + +<p>"Come to see me after the famous dinner; I will tell you the result."<a name="vol_4_page_207" id="vol_4_page_207"></a></p> + +<p>"Very well; and I will tell you if—I have seen him again."</p> + +<p>"Madame, I have the honor to salute you."</p> + +<p>"Present my compliments to Monsieur Mirotaine, if you please!"</p> + +<p>"I will not fail, madame."</p> + +<h2><a name="V-ls" id="V-ls"></a>V<br /><br /> +<small>SMALL DISHES IN LARGE ONES</small></h2> + +<p>The day of the famous dinner party had arrived, and everything was in +confusion at Monsieur Mirotaine's, where the entertainment of strangers +was a most extraordinary thing. From ten o'clock in the morning, the +master of the house had been parading his apartments, going constantly +from the dining-room to the kitchen and back, and heaving profound sighs +at sight of the preparations for the repast. Seeing Goth, his young +maid-servant, take something from the sideboard, he stopped her, saying:</p> + +<p>"What's that you're taking?"</p> + +<p>"Pepper, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"To put in the sauce piquante I am making."</p> + +<p>"What's the use of a sauce piquante?"</p> + +<p>"Why, it's to eat with your joint, monsieur,—your rib of beef. A fillet +would have been tenderer, but monsieur wouldn't have that."</p> + +<p>"Why not ortolans, and have done with it? You people have sworn to ruin +me to-day! Mon Dieu! such<a name="vol_4_page_208" id="vol_4_page_208"></a> profusion, such waste! Leave the pepper +there—you don't need it."</p> + +<p>At this point, Madame Mirotaine appeared on the scene.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with you, my dear?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur won't let me have the pepper," said Goth; "but I must have +some for my sauces."</p> + +<p>"What are you thinking about, my dear? Don't you want anything to be +good?"</p> + +<p>"I want—I want you to stop throwing my money out of the window. Every +minute this girl has to have something new—salt or pepper. It's enough +to break a man's heart!"</p> + +<p>"Well, monsieur, I'd like to know why I don't have a supply of such +things in my kitchen, like the cooks do in all decent houses?—And, +madame, I must have some pickles too, and some capers for the white +sauce for the fish."</p> + +<p>"We must send out for some."</p> + +<p>"Not by any means; it's all unnecessary. What's the good of capers? You +have plenty of mustard here."</p> + +<p>"But, monsieur, you don't put mustard in a white sauce."</p> + +<p>"Make it red, then."</p> + +<p>"My dear, if you don't let us have what we need for dinner, everything +will be horrid; and then you will certainly have spent money uselessly, +instead of doing yourself credit."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Mirotaine took an old bandanna handkerchief from his pocket and +wiped his eyes, muttering:</p> + +<p>"You make me do crazy things, Aldegonde!—What are you going to have for +dinner, anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"In the first place, we have a julienne soup."</p> + +<p>"What does <i>julienne</i> mean?"</p> + +<p>"Vegetables cut fine."<a name="vol_4_page_209" id="vol_4_page_209"></a></p> + +<p>"Oho! vegetables at the very beginning! What next?"</p> + +<p>"There will be butter and radishes on the table."</p> + +<p>"That makes two courses."</p> + +<p>"No, those are hors-d'œuvre; they don't count."</p> + +<p>"<i>Don't count</i> is good! they have to be paid for, all the same!"</p> + +<p>"The next course to the soup is always fish."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure that you couldn't possibly have the soup without it?"</p> + +<p>"It's customary. We have a pike; salmon would have been better, but as +the very smallest ones are worth from fifteen to twenty francs——"</p> + +<p>"What an outrage! And to think that there are people who eat salmon!"</p> + +<p>"So I had a pike instead, and for that we must have a caper sauce."</p> + +<p>"Why can't it be eaten without sauce?"</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't be good.—Flanking the fish we shall have cutlets with peas +and a <i>tourte aux boulettes</i>."</p> + +<p>"The twenty-four-sou kind, I trust?"</p> + +<p>"For eleven people! the idea! The two-franc size, and that will be very +scant!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope that that's all."</p> + +<p>"I should think not! that's only the first course. Now we come to the +second."</p> + +<p>"Great God!"</p> + +<p>"For your joint, you have ribs of beef; then, for vegetables, on one +side string beans, on the other spinach."</p> + +<p>"Why need you have more vegetables? You have served them already with +your julienne, you told me, so you don't want them again."</p> + +<p>"Julienne is a soup, not a meat course. Then——"</p> + +<p>"What! is there something more?"<a name="vol_4_page_210" id="vol_4_page_210"></a></p> + +<p>"Macaroni; and as it is always necessary to have sweets——"</p> + +<p>"Take my head at once!"</p> + +<p>"No, my dear; that wouldn't be good. We shall have a <i>crême à la +vanille</i>. You must give me some sugar; I haven't any left."</p> + +<p>"Nor I, either!"</p> + +<p>"Well, there's plenty at the grocer's."</p> + +<p>"No, I still have a few pieces of candied sugar."</p> + +<p>"Give them to Goth.—For dessert, such fruit as is in season."</p> + +<p>"Prunes?"</p> + +<p>"This is summer time, and you don't give your guests dried fruit. Then +cheese——"</p> + +<p>"Marolles—that's the best."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! your marolles smells up the whole room. Roquefort, and +biscuit."</p> + +<p>"Enough! enough! you may as well kill me!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! you forgot the salad, madame."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Mirotaine, in a rage, aimed a kick at Goth, shouting:</p> + +<p>"There's salad for you! That will teach you to ask for something else!"</p> + +<p>Goth began to cry, and demanded her wages. Madame Mirotaine succeeded in +pacifying her, and sent her off to her kitchen; then she berated her +husband for giving way so to his temper, and told him that she would +leave him if he interfered again in the details of housekeeping. +Monsieur Mirotaine, who set great store by his wife for the very reason +that she led him by the nose, begged her pardon and added, with a sigh:</p> + +<p>"It's this dinner that irritates me, and makes a brute of me!"<a name="vol_4_page_211" id="vol_4_page_211"></a></p> + +<p>"Just remember that you are going to get rid of your daughter—to marry +her to a millionaire Italian count, Count Miflorès, who will give us +some superb presents, I am sure, when he gives her her wedding gift."</p> + +<p>"You think that he'll give us something?"</p> + +<p>"Madame Putiphar feels sure of it."</p> + +<p>"Then it's all right!"</p> + +<p>"It is well worth a dinner.—By the way, monsieur, have you thought +about the wine?"</p> + +<p>"The wine! why, I have some in the cellar."</p> + +<p>"Yes, our regular table wine, which is very bad."</p> + +<p>"The more water you put in it, the better it is."</p> + +<p>"But we must have claret with the second course, and champagne at +dessert; everybody does."</p> + +<p>"That's it: everybody does! Luckily, I know a man who makes champagne at +one franc twenty-five the bottle."</p> + +<p>"It must be perfectly awful stuff!"</p> + +<p>"He assured me that it was delicious and foamed like beer."</p> + +<p>"As for claret, somebody sent you a basket of twenty-five bottles, +either in payment of a debt, or as a present; but I know that it's +excellent."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but I am keeping it for some time when I may be sick."</p> + +<p>"You will give me two bottles of it, monsieur; you must."</p> + +<p>"Two bottles! isn't one enough?"</p> + +<p>"No; we shall be eleven at table."</p> + +<p>"As many as that?"</p> + +<p>"When you entertain strangers, you don't give them just a family dinner; +that's too informal. I have invited all the Brid'oisons; we have dined +there several times, and this<a name="vol_4_page_212" id="vol_4_page_212"></a> was a good opportunity to return their +courtesy; besides, you have business relations with Monsieur +Brid'oison."</p> + +<p>"Oh! he finds me a borrower now and then. Will they bring their son?"</p> + +<p>"Of course; they are mad over him, as you know. Naturally, we shall have +Madame Putiphar; it is she who is arranging the match; and then, she +knows the count's intimate friend, a very jovial young man, so it seems. +Then I have invited your sister, Madame Trichon; she's an excellent +woman."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and a widow, without any children, whose heir I should be, if she +should happen to die. But she's very hearty—she eats a lot!"</p> + +<p>"To offset her, I have invited Monsieur Callé; he's a very distinguished +young man, and he eats almost nothing."</p> + +<p>"Do you really mean it? But what is the explanation of your inviting +him?"</p> + +<p>Aldegonde bit her lips for a second, trying to think of a reply. At last +she found one:</p> + +<p>"He is a very good musician; he sings well, and plays the flageolet. In +the evening it will be pleasant to have a little music."</p> + +<p>"Does the young man accompany himself on the flageolet when he sings?"</p> + +<p>"No, but he can play for the dancing; I have invited several more people +to come in in the evening; and if they want to dance——"</p> + +<p>"Whom have you invited?"</p> + +<p>"The Boulard ladies, your friend Dubotté and his wife——"</p> + +<p>"Oh! he never comes!"</p> + +<p>"He said that he would try to come this time. Then the brothers Bridoux. +There'll be quite a lot of us.<a name="vol_4_page_213" id="vol_4_page_213"></a> But we shall have to pass round +refreshments during the evening."</p> + +<p>"Very well; you can give them cocoa."</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur, no! Cocoa does well enough when we have nobody but your +sister and Monsieur Callé, who is very abstemious; but for this Italian +count we must have something else."</p> + +<p>"Well, lemonade, then. Squeeze a lemon in two or three quarts of water; +it's very refreshing."</p> + +<p>"That's my affair, monsieur; I will think it over, and find a way to +provide what is right. You will dress, monsieur, I trust?"</p> + +<p>"Ain't I all right as I am?"</p> + +<p>"No, certainly not; your linen is soiled, and your waistcoat all covered +with spots. You must put on a black coat."</p> + +<p>"I don't own such a thing."</p> + +<p>"You don't own a black coat?"</p> + +<p>"What's the use, when I never wear one? But I have a black overcoat that +I've only had five years; it's the same as new."</p> + +<p>"Well, monsieur, dress as well as you can. I have told your daughter to +beautify herself, too; she must make a favorable impression on this +Monsieur Miflorès!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! young girls are always coquettish enough."</p> + +<p>"As for myself, I shall try to make myself presentable and to do you +credit. I must now see how things are going in the kitchen."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Mirotaine, being left alone, heaved a prodigious sigh; then, +after reflecting for some time, he went hastily down into his cellar +with a pitcher full of water; he took several bottles of wine and drew +the corks, then filled some empty bottles with two parts of wine, and +one<a name="vol_4_page_214" id="vol_4_page_214"></a> of water from his pitcher. Having thus manipulated four bottles, he +took them upstairs, chuckling over what he had done. Then he took two +bottles of the Château-Léoville which had been given him, and was about +to doctor them in the same way; but he heard footsteps; it was Aldegonde +returning; she took possession of the two bottles which she saw on the +table, and the generous wine escaped the baptism which awaited it.</p> + +<p>While Monsieur Mirotaine was making up his mind to dress, and madame was +devoting all her attention to her toilet, Juliette, who had been dressed +for a long time, and who would gladly have disfigured herself in order +to create an unfavorable impression on this guest in search of a wife, +but who was as pretty as ever, because, even when a woman wants to make +herself look ugly, she always dresses so that she does not look +so—Juliette was busy setting the table, the cook having too much to do +about her saucepans to find time to lay the cloth. The girl sighed as +she arranged the plates, and said to herself:</p> + +<p>"If this dinner were to celebrate my engagement to Lucien, what a +difference it would make! how happy I should be! But they haven't even +invited poor Lucien; and yet, only last night, father sent him from the +Barrière du Trône to Passy, and didn't even pay for a seat on top of an +omnibus!"</p> + +<p>Madame Mirotaine came to look at the table; she held in her hand divers +small slips of paper, on which the names of the guests were written.</p> + +<p>"We must arrange these carefully," said Aldegonde.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do with those slips of paper, madame?"</p> + +<p>"They are to show each person the seat he or she is to take at table."<a name="vol_4_page_215" id="vol_4_page_215"></a></p> + +<p>"Why, can't they sit wherever they choose?"</p> + +<p>"No; it is good form to put each guest's name at his place beforehand; +that makes it more convenient about taking seats."</p> + +<p>"Then I beg you, madame, not to put me beside this stranger, this +Italian count."</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, Juliette, you must sit beside him. As he is coming +here for the purpose of meeting you, he must be able to talk with you."</p> + +<p>"You know that I never talk, madame; put him beside you, he will be much +better pleased."</p> + +<p>"But, Juliette, I am not the one whom this gentleman wants to marry."</p> + +<p>"That's a great pity!"</p> + +<p>"What a child it is! The best I can do is to place the count between us, +at my left; at my right, I shall put the man who deals in sugar, who is +very agreeable, so Madame Putiphar assures me. Whom shall I put next to +him? It's very embarrassing! It's a regular science to arrange your +company right."</p> + +<p>"Put Monsieur Brid'oison there."</p> + +<p>"No, we must have a lady next to a man; the sexes should be mingled as +much as possible. Ah! Madame Putiphar; this gentleman knows her, and he +will be very glad to talk with her. And then—great heavens! what a +puzzle! Ah! Monsieur Callé—that will do; Monsieur Callé, then Madame +Brid'oison, Monsieur Mirotaine, Madame Trichon, and Monsieur Brid'oison. +There! it's all done."</p> + +<p>"But that makes only ten, and there are eleven plates. You have +forgotten to write a slip for one guest."</p> + +<p>"Pshaw! whom have I forgotten?"</p> + +<p>"Artaban—young Brid'oison."<a name="vol_4_page_216" id="vol_4_page_216"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh! to be sure; he's not a pleasant neighbor, that urchin; his father +makes him do gymnastic exercises, and he's always thrashing about to +show his limberness and strength; he keeps kicking you if you're near +him."</p> + +<p>"Put him next to me; I don't care."</p> + +<p>"No; we'll put him between his father and Madame Trichon; they will make +him keep quiet. Now, it's arranged as well as possible. I must run and +finish dressing; for it's after four o'clock. And you, Juliette?"</p> + +<p>"I am all ready, madame."</p> + +<p>"But your hair is done very badly; and not an ornament in it—not a +flower!"</p> + +<p>"What's the use?"</p> + +<p>"What do you say? what's the use? when it's a matter of marrying a +millionaire count!"</p> + +<p>"You know perfectly well that I love Lucien."</p> + +<p>"Oh! bless my soul! love your Lucien all you please, but marry the +count; that's all we ask of you."</p> + +<p>Aldegonde returned to her room to finish dressing; and Juliette to hers, +still cursing the second-hand clothes woman; while Monsieur Mirotaine, +who had completed his toilet, appeared in the dining-room and walked +around the table, carefully scrutinizing everything that was on it.</p> + +<p>"What an array! what a feast! what fuss and feathers! Three glasses at +each plate!—why three glasses? Are they supposed to drink three times +at once? Ah! these are champagne glasses! How lucky I was to find some +champagne for one franc twenty-five! What are all these things? +radishes, butter, little onions! What profusion!"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Mirotaine began to count the pickles:</p> + +<p>"Nine, ten, twelve pickles! and they're big ones, too! That's much too +many."</p> + +<p>He took away four and put them in his pocket.<a name="vol_4_page_217" id="vol_4_page_217"></a></p> + +<p>"That leaves quite enough. Now for the onions! there are too many of +them too."</p> + +<p>He took a handful of pickled onions, which he also stuffed into his coat +pocket. Then it was the radishes' turn; as there were a great many of +them in the dish, he took out two large handfuls, which went to join the +onions and pickles. The only thing left for him to reckon with was the +butter; he stopped in front of it and reflected as to how much he could +safely put aside; but at that moment the bell rang, and Monsieur +Mirotaine had barely time to lick his fingers, with which he had seized +the butter.</p> + +<h2><a name="VI-ls" id="VI-ls"></a>VI<br /><br /> +<small>YOUNG ARTABAN'S GYMNASTICS</small></h2> + +<p>The Brid'oison family arrived first of the guests. Monsieur Brid'oison: +a tall, gaunt man, with the face of a fox, somewhat softened in outline +by frequent use of the juice of the grape; but still austere in manner +when he was sober. Madame: a tall, yellow-skinned woman, with a face +like an axe, red-eyed, and addicted to long, corkscrew curls which hung +down to her shoulders. And, lastly, their son Artaban, eight years of +age, with curly hair, a flat nose, a long, pointed chin, hands always +black with dirt, and an impudent manner; he constantly walked with his +head near the ground and his legs in the air, and made his father's +bosom swell with pride by so doing.</p> + +<p>"Here we are!" said Monsieur Brid'oison; "we have come early, but I +don't like to keep people waiting; there<a name="vol_4_page_218" id="vol_4_page_218"></a> are those who claim that it's +good form, but I call it the worst kind of form. How are you, Mirotaine! +where are the ladies?"</p> + +<p>"Still at their toilet, I presume; women are never done, you know, when +they set out to dress."</p> + +<p>"Oh! for my part, it don't take me long," said Madame Brid'oison; "five +minutes is enough for me."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I started my wife right. 'Égilde,' I said to her, 'if you are not +dressed in five minutes, I warn you that I won't wait; I'll start +without you.'—I tell you, I'm a martinet for being on time!"</p> + +<p>"That made me awfully unhappy at first. One day, we were going to dine +out; Brid'oison called up to me: 'I'm all ready' and I hadn't put on my +garters! I went without 'em, but it bothered me all the time."</p> + +<p>"Here's my son Artaban, who's as good a gymnast as Auriol already.—Walk +on your head, Artaban, to show what you can do."</p> + +<p>The little fellow instantly put his hands on the floor, with his head +down and his legs in the air, and made the circuit of the salon in that +fashion; but when he put his feet down, he struck the legs of a small +table on which the coffee cups had been set out; the shock knocked two +of them to the floor, and they were broken. Monsieur Mirotaine made a +great outcry:</p> + +<p>"The devil take you with your gymnastics! There's two cups smashed! What +sort of a crazy idea is it—to make a child walk on his head; and in a +salon, too!"</p> + +<p>"Bless my soul! don't lose your temper over two cups; and see, here's +one of them that has only the handle broken."</p> + +<p>"It takes away all its value, none the less."</p> + +<p>"I'll give you two others."<a name="vol_4_page_219" id="vol_4_page_219"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! people say that, but no one ever replaces anything. Do you +propose sending your son to the circus, that you make him do such tricks +as that?"</p> + +<p>"No; I am going to make a lawyer of him."</p> + +<p>"Do you expect him to try cases, walking on his hands?"</p> + +<p>"My dear friend, gymnastics is always a good thing, in every station of +life. A lawyer may have occasion to show how a thief went to work to +climb into a window; he'll make a poor fist at it if he doesn't know +anything about gymnastics."</p> + +<p>The ladies appeared in the salon, accompanied by Madame Trichon.</p> + +<p>"What has happened?" inquired Aldegonde; "I heard my husband shouting."</p> + +<p>"Nothing, dear madame, a trifle!"</p> + +<p>"He calls two handsome cups nothing, which his son broke while he was +walking on his head."</p> + +<p>"Does your son walk on his head? Dear me! I should have liked to see +that."</p> + +<p>"He can do it again."</p> + +<p>"No, no, I don't want him to do it again—he'll smash all the china +we've got!"</p> + +<p>"Very well; something else, then—to show you how strong the lad is +already.—Artaban, hold out a chair at arm's length.—That won't +endanger your cups, Mirotaine.—Come, Artaban, pick out a chair."</p> + +<p>The boy took one of the salon chairs, and, although he did not actually +hold it at arm's length, kept it in the air for some time; and then, as +he felt tired, instead of putting it down on the floor, he suddenly +threw it over his shoulder, so that the legs struck Madame Trichon, who +was standing behind him, in the face.<a name="vol_4_page_220" id="vol_4_page_220"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh! I am wounded!" she cried, putting her hand to her face; "my nose is +broken!"</p> + +<p>"No, no, madame; it's nothing at all!" said Monsieur Brid'oison; "your +nose is still in place; just a little scratch, that's all!"</p> + +<p>"Water! cold water, I entreat you! so that I can bathe my face."</p> + +<p>"Your son's gymnastics is very pretty, indeed; I congratulate you!" said +Monsieur Mirotaine; "but I hope that he won't give us any more of it!"</p> + +<p>"It was because you were in his way; if it hadn't been for that, he'd +have put the chair down in front of him. Never mind, he's going to be a +fine, strong man; I'm very glad I named him Artaban; he'll have a right +to be proud."</p> + +<p>Madame Putiphar was the next to arrive, then Monsieur Callé. The latter +was a young man of twenty-five, who resembled the heads that hair +dressers put in their windows; he was combed and perfumed like a waiter; +his chestnut hair was divided by a parting that started from the nape of +the neck. He was an exceedingly stupid youth in appearance, and his +language accorded perfectly with the expression of his face, which +always wore a surprised look; he never entered a salon except sidewise, +and never knew what to do with his hat.</p> + +<p>This young man glanced furtively at Aldegonde and turned crimson as he +shook hands with her husband. Madame hastened to put him at his ease by +relieving him of his hat. Monsieur Callé bowed to everyone, including +little Artaban, who acknowledged his courtesy by executing a handspring. +As for Madame Putiphar—she made herself quite at home at the +Mirotaines', and, after making a courtesy, she lost no time in asking:<a name="vol_4_page_221" id="vol_4_page_221"></a></p> + +<p>"Haven't they come yet?"</p> + +<p>"No, not yet."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's only half-past five, and I said that you didn't dine till +six; they're not late."</p> + +<p>"Do you expect other guests?" Monsieur Brid'oison asked the host.</p> + +<p>"Yes, two gentlemen—whom I don't know."</p> + +<p>"What! you ask people to dinner whom you don't know?"</p> + +<p>"They come on some—family business."</p> + +<p>"And, you see, I know the gentlemen," interposed Madame Putiphar, "and I +answer for them. First, there's Monsieur Dodichet, a commission merchant +in sugar, a delightful young man, of the best tone, and as gallant as +any knight; and his intimate friend, Count Miflorès, an Italian, rich as +an English lord, who is looking for a young lady to marry—without any +dowry."</p> + +<p>"Ah! very good; I see—we understand.—You understand, Égilde, don't +you?"</p> + +<p>Madame Brid'oison was intent on fastening back one of the corkscrew +curls, which persisted in trying to get into her mouth; so she contented +herself with an affirmative smile. The dealer in wardrobes added, in an +undertone, taking care to move away from Juliette:</p> + +<p>"We mustn't act as if we knew the count's intentions, for he wouldn't +like it. He thinks that we don't know them, and that he is invited +solely because he's Monsieur Dodichet's friend; in that way, you see, he +can talk with Juliette and not be embarrassed."</p> + +<p>"Very well; still, you did well to warn us. I wouldn't mind a drop of +absinthe while we're waiting for dinner—in some water; that opens up +the appetite."<a name="vol_4_page_222" id="vol_4_page_222"></a></p> + +<p>"My dear friend, if you want to drink absinthe, you may go down to the +café at the corner of the street; don't hesitate."</p> + +<p>"Why? haven't you any here?"</p> + +<p>"What! absinthe?—a rank poison!"</p> + +<p>"Poison when you take it pure; but with plenty of water——"</p> + +<p>"There's no doubt but what it's the fashion nowadays," said Madame +Putiphar.</p> + +<p>"And the count may ask for it, you think?" queried Aldegonde.</p> + +<p>"He or his friend Dodichet."</p> + +<p>"Then we must send out for some."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Mirotaine stamped the floor angrily, as he cried:</p> + +<p>"Plague take Brid'oison with his absinthe! Why need he have asked for +it? I refuse to buy any! If these gentlemen ask for it, you must say +that we've just broken the bottle.—Do you drink absinthe, Monsieur +Callé?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! no, indeed! never, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Good! that proves that you have a good stomach, which does not need any +stimulants to help digestion."</p> + +<p>"All right! everyone to his own opinion! When Artaban's twelve years +old, I shall have him drink absinthe before his gymnastics."</p> + +<p>"That will cap the climax!"<a name="vol_4_page_223" id="vol_4_page_223"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="VII-ls" id="VII-ls"></a>VII<br /><br /> +<small>A MIXED DINNER PARTY</small></h2> + +<p>At five minutes to six, the bell rang loudly.</p> + +<p>"Here they are!" said Madame Putiphar.</p> + +<p>Thereupon each one of the company assumed an air worthy of the occasion. +Aldegonde's face took on an amiable expression, Monsieur Mirotaine did +his best to smile, Madame Trichon wiped her nose, and the others looked +exceedingly curious. Juliette alone did not put herself out; she was +depressed; she had hoped that they would not come.</p> + +<p>Goth announced: "Monsieur le Comte Mimiflorès and Monsieur Beaubrochet." +Maid-servants almost always have the knack of murdering the names that +are given them. Dodichet entered the room as jauntily as if it were a +tavern, leading his intimate friend by the hand. The friend in question +was a man of about thirty-five, of medium height, rather stout than +thin, who strove to conceal his utter nullity and stupidity beneath an +imposing manner; he had one of those faces which tell absolutely +nothing; but he tried so hard to impart some expression to his eyes that +he almost made them haggard. His dress was irreproachable, even stylish; +but he wore his clothes awkwardly, and carried himself in a way to make +people think that he was uncomfortable in them.</p> + +<p>Dodichet saluted on all sides, almost laughing outright; he took +Monsieur Mirotaine's hand, shook it violently before that worthy had had +time to respond to his salutation, and hastened to say in a loud tone:<a name="vol_4_page_224" id="vol_4_page_224"></a></p> + +<p>"Delighted to make your acquaintance, Monsieur Mirotaine; I have long +desired an opportunity, and when it presented itself I grasped it. We +shall do some business together, Monsieur Miroton—I beg pardon, +Mirotaine—and I am a sharp customer and never meddle with anything that +isn't sure."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur—I certainly——"</p> + +<p>"Allow me to introduce my intimate friend, Count Miflorès, a wealthy +Italian, who would stand behind me if necessary.—He is anxious to +marry, you know," continued Dodichet, in an undertone, "and doesn't want +any dowry."</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur; I was told——"</p> + +<p>"Sh! enough! you mustn't seem to know.—Come, Miflorès, and let me +present you to these ladies. You are bashful, I know, but that shouldn't +keep you from offering the fair sex all the homage that is due them."</p> + +<p>Dodichet's assurance, his loquacity and his fine phrases, had the effect +that they usually have upon people with little or no wit; everybody +considered him delightful, and especially Juliette, to whom he +whispered, as he introduced Miflorès:</p> + +<p>"Don't be alarmed; he won't marry you. I am a friend of Lucien!"</p> + +<p>Juliette could not restrain a faint cry of delight.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" Aldegonde inquired.</p> + +<p>"Nothing!" Dodichet replied; "my foot involuntarily struck +mademoiselle's.—I didn't hurt you, I trust?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! monsieur, you didn't hurt me."</p> + +<p>"Then all is for the best, as Voltaire says in <i>Candide</i>. But is it in +<i>Candide</i>? Faith! I am not sure; I have read so much in my life that I +am all mixed up; I confuse my authors. Somebody asked me lately who +wrote<a name="vol_4_page_225" id="vol_4_page_225"></a> <i>Le Mariage de Figaro</i>, and I said Monsieur d'Ennery. I was +wrong."</p> + +<p>"My friend Brid'oison here bears the name of one of the characters in +that play," said Monsieur Mirotaine.</p> + +<p>"Ah! monsieur's name is Brid'oison? A fine name! a pretty name! which +recalls a very—intellectual character."</p> + +<p>"I try to be worthy of my name," said Monsieur Brid'oison, with dignity.</p> + +<p>"You are quite capable of it, monsieur. Do you stutter?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed."</p> + +<p>"That's a pity; but it may come in time."</p> + +<p>"And this is my son Artaban, who is already very strong in gymnastics."</p> + +<p>"Is that so? Well, I am not surprised; the little fellow has Hercules +written all over his face."</p> + +<p>"Do you think so?"</p> + +<p>And Monsieur Brid'oison, pleased beyond words, patted his son on the +cheek and said to him:</p> + +<p>"Do you hear? you resemble Hercules!"</p> + +<p>"In what way, papa?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, but in some way."</p> + +<p>The supposititious marrying man stood perfectly stiff in the middle of +the salon, at a loss what attitude to assume, but scratching his nose +very often to keep himself in countenance. He had not said a word as +yet, but had contented himself with bowing.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur le comte doesn't say anything," whispered Madame Putiphar to +Dodichet. "Why on earth doesn't he open his mouth?"</p> + +<p>"Never you fear; he'll open it at dinner time."</p> + +<p>"He seems very proud."</p> + +<p>"That will pass away at the table."<a name="vol_4_page_226" id="vol_4_page_226"></a></p> + +<p>"Ask him what he thinks of Juliette."</p> + +<p>"Fascinating! he told me when he came in."</p> + +<p>"How did he know which was she?"</p> + +<p>"What a question! she's the only girl here; all the other women have +worn breeches—have seen fire, I mean."</p> + +<p>Goth announced dinner, whereupon Monsieur Miflorès exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Good enough!"</p> + +<p>"It would seem that the count is hungry!" muttered Monsieur Mirotaine.</p> + +<p>"I agree with him perfectly," said Monsieur Brid'oison.</p> + +<p>Dodichet nudged his friend, to signify that he must offer his arm to the +hostess. Meanwhile, he offered his own to Juliette, and on the way to +the dining-room found time to say a few words in her ear which caused +her face to glow with happiness.</p> + +<p>They took their seats. Madame Trichon grumbled and made a wry face when +she found herself beside little Artaban. Monsieur Brid'oison, offended +because she dreaded his son's proximity, insisted that her seat should +be changed; but Aldegonde objected, and Madame Trichon held her peace. +The soup was served. While it was being passed to her guests, Aldegonde +happened to glance at the dishes of hors-d'œuvre, and called to her +servant:</p> + +<p>"Goth, didn't you put on the table all the pickles and pickled onions I +gave you?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, madame, every one."</p> + +<p>"Well, I certainly had many more than that; it's very strange!"</p> + +<p>"Does madame think I ate any of 'em? Madame knows very well that I never +take anything—especially as everything's kept locked up in this house!"</p> + +<p>"Enough! enough!"<a name="vol_4_page_227" id="vol_4_page_227"></a></p> + +<p>"This soup is delicious!" cried young Callé, who had his programme by +heart, and knew that he must find everything excellent.</p> + +<p>"And the radishes too!" muttered Aldegonde; "my servant has certainly +been helping herself!"</p> + +<p>"We must all live," said Dodichet. "May I ask you to drink a glass of +wine with me?"</p> + +<p>After drinking, Dodichet made a wry face.</p> + +<p>"Excellent burgundy!" cried Callé.</p> + +<p>"But terribly weak!" rejoined Dodichet. "However, perhaps this bottle +wasn't well corked."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Miflorès ate and drank, and still did not say a word. Meanwhile +Juliette, whose fears were all done away with by Dodichet's confidential +communication, spoke to her neighbor occasionally, as she offered him +something. The soi-disant count contented himself with bowing as he took +what she offered, but did not speak.</p> + +<p>"Your friend is very silent," Aldegonde observed to Dodichet; "he hasn't +a word to say to my stepdaughter, although she seems to be very amiable +to him—which is a great surprise to me, I must confess."</p> + +<p>"She probably finds monsieur le comte to her liking," said Madame +Putiphar; "he's a very fine-looking man, and no mistake."</p> + +<p>"I venture to hope that he will talk at dessert."</p> + +<p>Dodichet leaned back and struck his friend on the shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Well, Miflorès," he said, "haven't you anything to say to your +neighbors? they're surprised at your silence."</p> + +<p>"I don't like to talk when I'm eating," replied the person addressed, +whose mouth was, in fact, full.</p> + +<p>"Oh! what exquisite fish!" cried Callé, who had just been served with +pike.<a name="vol_4_page_228" id="vol_4_page_228"></a></p> + +<p>"It's a pity it has so many bones," said Dodichet.</p> + +<p>At that moment, Madame Brid'oison began to cough as if she were +strangling.</p> + +<p>"Well! well! my wife has swallowed a bone!" said Brid'oison.</p> + +<p>But Égilde informed him by signs that it was not that which made her +cough, but one of her corkscrew curls which had got into her mouth.</p> + +<p>"Oh! in that case, I've no sympathy for you. What an absurd idea it is +for women to wear their hair so long!"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Mirotaine passed his time offering everybody water. Monsieur +Callé was the only man who accepted it, the result being that the host +looked kindly upon him. Young Artaban, who had been very quiet thus far, +began to toss his knife and fork in the air, to the great displeasure of +Madame Trichon, who said to him:</p> + +<p>"That's not the way to behave in company, my boy; at the table you +should sit very still, and not play with the knives and forks."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Brid'oison, who admired his son's skill, answered for him:</p> + +<p>"Artaban isn't playing, madame; he is juggling at this moment like the +East Indians; they call it juggling. They have balls which they toss in +the air with great dexterity; having no balls, Artaban uses his knife +and fork; it's harder, and more dangerous. But don't be alarmed; Artaban +is too skilful to hurt himself."</p> + +<p>"That may be, but he'll hurt me! he'll throw his fork in my face, and +the chair was quite enough for me!"</p> + +<p>"But, madame, I will answer for my son. He's as light-fingered as a +monkey!"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Brid'oison had hardly finished the sentence, when the fork, +badly aimed by Artaban, struck Madame<a name="vol_4_page_229" id="vol_4_page_229"></a> Trichon on the chin, just on a +level with her teeth. She gave a loud shriek and sprang to her feet in a +rage.</p> + +<p>"It's outrageous! it's shameful!" she cried; "he has sworn to disfigure +me! I insist on sitting at a small table; I will not sit by this little +blackguard any longer!"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Brid'oison turned scarlet when he heard his son called a +blackguard; he mumbled something between his teeth, which, luckily, was +drowned by the crash of several plates which the maid dropped, thereby +driving Monsieur Mirotaine to despair. Meanwhile, at a sign from +Aldegonde, Monsieur Callé had risen and changed seats with Madame +Trichon. Thereupon peace was restored, albeit Monsieur Brid'oison +continued to mutter:</p> + +<p>"Blackguard! call my son Artaban a blackguard! If that woman was a man, +she'd have had to give me satisfaction for that!"</p> + +<p>The two bottles of Château-Léoville were brought, and Dodichet, having +tasted it, exclaimed with the liveliest satisfaction:</p> + +<p>"Good! this can fairly be called wine; and it's delicious, too! an +intoxicating bouquet!"</p> + +<p>"Will you have some water in it?" said Monsieur Mirotaine, offering him +a carafe.</p> + +<p>"Water in such wine as this? why, it would be downright profanation! I +most earnestly hope that no one will think of spoiling it with +water.—Miflorès, my dear count, just taste this wine! It will make you +eloquent."</p> + +<p>"If it does make him eloquent, it will surprise me greatly," said +Monsieur Brid'oison to Callé, who was ogling Aldegonde, who was +scrutinizing Miflorès, who was gazing in admiration at his brimming +glass.</p> + +<p>"How they do eat and drink!" thought Monsieur Mirotaine, stifling a +sigh; "but I don't see that this<a name="vol_4_page_230" id="vol_4_page_230"></a> supposed marrying man tries to get +acquainted with my daughter. To make up for it, the commission merchant +in sugar is very loquacious; he impresses me more or less as a +<i>blagueur</i>. Mon Dieu! suppose that my dinner is thrown away!"</p> + +<p>Dodichet kept the claret in circulation, but was always careful to help +himself first. Monsieur Miflorès succeeded at last in saying:</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's a very good wine."</p> + +<p>Callé outdid all the rest by exclaiming:</p> + +<p>"This wine is perfect nectar!"</p> + +<p>The two bottles were soon emptied.</p> + +<p>"Give us some more, Monsieur Mirotaine," said Dodichet; "you see how we +honor it."</p> + +<p>"I haven't any more," Mirotaine replied, "those were my last two +bottles."</p> + +<p>"Oh! what a pity!"</p> + +<p>"But you will have some champagne in a moment."</p> + +<p>"If it's as good in its way as the claret, it will be ambrosia."</p> + +<p>The champagne arrived with a <i>crême à la vanille</i>, which Goth proudly +placed on the table.</p> + +<p>"Ah! now for the sweets!" cried Dodichet.</p> + +<p>"It's a <i>crême à la vanille</i>," said Aldegonde.</p> + +<p>Whereupon Miflorès spoke for the second time.</p> + +<p>"So much the better!" he cried.</p> + +<p>"He has spoken!" said Madame Putiphar.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but not to Juliette."</p> + +<p>"That will come with the champagne, no doubt."</p> + +<p>Aldegonde served everybody with cream, and everybody made haste to taste +it; but, in a moment, exclamations rose on all sides:</p> + +<p>"Bah! what on earth is this?"<a name="vol_4_page_231" id="vol_4_page_231"></a></p> + +<p>"What an extraordinary taste!"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! how nasty it is!"</p> + +<p>"In the first place, it isn't sweetened at all!"</p> + +<p>"If that was all! But the taste and the smell! I know that taste, but I +can't remember what it is."</p> + +<p>Aldegonde summoned the cook, who appeared at once.</p> + +<p>"What did you put in your cream, Goth? it has a most peculiar taste."</p> + +<p>"I put in what I always do, madame: milk, whites of eggs, a little of +vanilla—I didn't have much of that to put in, my word!"</p> + +<p>"And sugar?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, the candied sugar monsieur gave me wrapped up in paper; I put it +all in."</p> + +<p>"Ah! I know what it smells of!" cried Dodichet; "it's camphor; your +cream is flavored with camphor!"</p> + +<p>"What does this mean, Monsieur Mirotaine?" said Aldegonde, looking +sternly at her husband; "was it camphor you gave Goth, instead of +sugar?"</p> + +<p>"If it was, I must have taken the wrong package," said Mirotaine, +slightly embarrassed. "As a matter of fact, I have several packages of +camphor in my desk—and I must have mixed them with the sugar."</p> + +<p>"There is no further doubt, monsieur, that it was camphor you gave the +servant."</p> + +<p>"Luckily, we know that it isn't injurious," said Dodichet. "Come on! +let's open the champagne; that will help us to forget the camphor."</p> + +<p>One and all eagerly held out their glasses; the champagne foamed—but +only for a moment; and when everybody had tasted it, there was a +profound silence; a silence that was most unpleasant, under such +circumstances, and<a name="vol_4_page_232" id="vol_4_page_232"></a> was equivalent to a general "Sh!" as on the stage. +At last, Dodichet, who was always outspoken, exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Sapristi! this champagne isn't as good as your claret! The man who sold +this to you, Monsieur Mirotaine, sold you too."</p> + +<p>"What do you say? Sold me! Why, it's Cliquot, Cliquot <i>crémant</i>."</p> + +<p>"That stuff, <i>crémant!</i> as much as I'm a bishop! I'll get you to give me +your dealer's address, so that I may avoid him."</p> + +<p>The champagne having proved a flat failure, and Aldegonde having no +other wine to offer, the dessert came to grief; and they soon left the +table, to take their coffee in the salon.</p> + +<h2><a name="VIII-ls" id="VIII-ls"></a>VIII<br /><br /> +<small>DRAMATIC SCENES</small></h2> + +<p>The guests were not in that vivacious frame of mind which generally +signalizes the end of a dinner. To be sure, they had not had much to +warm them up; the vin ordinaire was watered, the champagne resembled +vinegar; the claret alone had made a success, but two bottles were a +very small allowance for eleven people, especially when one of them +appropriated half of it.</p> + +<p>Madame Trichon was still brooding over the blow from a fork on her chin, +and from a chair on her head. Monsieur Brid'oison was sulking because +his son had been called a blackguard; his wife continued to swallow her +hair; Madame Putiphar and Aldegonde were disturbed by the Italian +count's silence with Juliette; the last-named<a name="vol_4_page_233" id="vol_4_page_233"></a> alone was in a charming +mood, and was ably seconded by Dodichet, who, from time to time, hid his +face in order to laugh at Miflorès.</p> + +<p>The coffee had just been brought, and Aldegonde was filling the cups, +when Monsieur Brid'oison offered Monsieur Mirotaine his snuffbox, +saying:</p> + +<p>"Try this, and tell me what you think of it."</p> + +<p>"Why, you know perfectly well that I don't take snuff."</p> + +<p>"This brand is well worth departing from your habit."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Mirotaine took a pinch and stuffed it into his nose, with a +sign of approbation. But the pungent powder soon produced its inevitable +effect upon one who was unaccustomed to its use: Monsieur Mirotaine +sneezed twice in rapid succession, and the second time the effect was of +such a nature that he was obliged to resort to his handkerchief in hot +haste, in order to wipe his nose. So he thrust his hand hurriedly into +his pocket, and pulled out his handkerchief so quickly that with it he +sent pickles, radishes, and onions flying about the room.</p> + +<p>Everybody was dumfounded; they gazed in amazement at the hors-d'œuvre +strewn about the floor and on the furniture. Madame Trichon alone +uttered a cry of pain; the poor woman had no luck; she had received an +onion in the eye, and, as it was pickled, it caused the delicate spot it +had struck to smart vigorously.</p> + +<p>"How is this, monsieur? is it possible that you put some of the +hors-d'œuvre in your pocket?" said Aldegonde. "And to think that I +suspected poor Goth! Fie, monsieur, for shame! that is unpardonable!"</p> + +<p>Instead of asking his wife's forgiveness, Monsieur Mirotaine was on his +hands and knees, picking up the delicacies he had unwittingly taken from +his pocket. As for Madame Trichon, she went off to weep by herself in<a name="vol_4_page_234" id="vol_4_page_234"></a> a +corner, declaring that there was a conspiracy to disfigure her.</p> + +<p>While they were taking their coffee, Dodichet said to his friend:</p> + +<p>"Come, Miflorès, for heaven's sake talk a little! try to make yourself +agreeable to the ladies. You act like an oyster, my dear fellow."</p> + +<p>"I didn't ask you to bring me here; it was you who insisted on my +coming, saying that it would inspire confidence in the master of the +house, with whom you hoped to do a big business."</p> + +<p>"That is true, perfectly true; that is why I passed you off for an +Italian count."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I don't care about that."</p> + +<p>"Lying a little more or less doesn't matter; and you are lying by +calling yourself Miflorès, when your real name is Seringat; a pretty +name, by the way, which reminds one of a canary [<i>serin</i>], a flower +[<i>syringa</i>], and a syringe [<i>seringue</i>]. Miflorès isn't your name."</p> + +<p>"It was my mother's, so I have a right to take it."</p> + +<p>"At all events, you don't want these people to know your real name, and +what happened to you, do you?"</p> + +<p>"No, no! never! I would rather—I—don't know what."</p> + +<p>"Well, I know the whole story."</p> + +<p>"But you promised to keep it secret, my good, kind friend."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but on condition that you'll be obliging, that you'll do +everything for me that I ask you to do."</p> + +<p>"That's agreed. Do you want more money? Tell me."</p> + +<p>"Not now; but try to be amiable, amusing, polite, while you are here; +that's all I ask of you at present."</p> + +<p>"I will try right away."<a name="vol_4_page_235" id="vol_4_page_235"></a></p> + +<p>Whereupon my gentleman went to the hostess, took her hand, and kissed it +several times.</p> + +<p>"What does that mean; does he expect to marry my wife?" thought Monsieur +Mirotaine.</p> + +<p>But Aldegonde did not find that pantomime unpleasant; she smiled at +Miflorès, thinking that he was about to ask for her stepdaughter's hand; +but he simply bowed and said:</p> + +<p>"There's another pickle under that chair."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Callé hastened to pick it up and carry it to Mirotaine, who put +it in his pocket, saying to Monsieur Callé:</p> + +<p>"You don't let things lie round; you'll make your way."</p> + +<p>Dodichet tried hard to enliven the company, and to that end resorted +frequently to the decanter containing brandy, the only liqueur that was +offered the guests; he helped himself to several glasses, and even went +so far as to offer some to the others. Monsieur Mirotaine witnessed this +procedure with impatience.</p> + +<p>"That fellow makes too free with my brandy," he muttered; "that's the +third time he's gone back to it; he pours it out as if he were in his +own house! Very bad manners, I call it! I must try to take the decanter +away without my wife's seeing me."</p> + +<p>The arrival of several of the guests invited for the evening enabled +Monsieur Mirotaine to carry out his plan.</p> + +<p>Goth announced "Mesdames Boulard," and three middle-aged women appeared, +dressed with much coquetry, with little caps that hardly covered the +tops of their heads, from beneath which escaped <i>chignons</i> resembling +muffs. Their hoopskirts were so vast that the upper part of their bodies +seemed to be poised on<a name="vol_4_page_236" id="vol_4_page_236"></a> balloons; the door of the salon was scarcely +wide enough to allow them to pass through.</p> + +<p>At sight of this trio, who promised to occupy so much space in the +salon, Dodichet said to Brid'oison:</p> + +<p>"Your young Artaban ought to perform some of his gymnastics on those +balloons, to flatten them out a little."</p> + +<p>"You are right. The fact is that women are getting to be ridiculous! +before long, one woman alone will fill a whole room! Just look at my +wife—what a difference! I have forbidden her to wear hoops; so that she +can go anywhere; she's a regular knitting needle."</p> + +<p>After the Boulards came the brothers Bridoux. They did not assume to +fill much space. They were blowing their noses when they came in, they +continued to hold their noses when they bowed; and when they decided to +release their hold, exhibited faces of that inane, expressionless type +which we see everywhere, and with which we are not tempted to enter into +conversation.</p> + +<p>One of the Bridoux concealed himself behind the balloon of one of the +Boulards. The other exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Why, I don't see Mirotaine; where in the world is our dear Mirotaine?"</p> + +<p>Dear Mirotaine had gone to put his decanter of brandy in a safe place. +Meanwhile, Madame Putiphar took Dodichet aside and said to him:</p> + +<p>"Well, monsieur, how's our business coming on? How does monsieur le +comte like our Juliette? he hasn't said a single pleasant word to her. +What does it mean? don't she take his fancy? We must know what to +expect, you see."</p> + +<p>"Don't you be alarmed, Madame de la Toilette; my friend is delighted +with your young lady; he finds her full of intellect and altogether to +his taste."<a name="vol_4_page_237" id="vol_4_page_237"></a></p> + +<p>"How can he judge her intellect? he hasn't opened his mouth to her!"</p> + +<p>"No; but he has heard her talk, which amounts to the same thing. Indeed, +she passed him a dish several times and said: 'Will you have some of +this, monsieur?'—And the way she said those simple words enabled him to +detect her merit."</p> + +<p>"Well, when will your count make his proposal?"</p> + +<p>"To-morrow, probably; you can understand that he isn't likely to do it +to-night, before all these people."</p> + +<p>"Then I can tell Monsieur Mirotaine that, and begin to look after the +wedding presents?"</p> + +<p>"You must look after them at the earliest possible moment, and see that +they are worthy of a sultan."</p> + +<p>The Putiphar woman walked away, delighted, and was on the point of +repeating this conversation to Aldegonde, when Monsieur Dubotté and his +wife were announced.</p> + +<p>Madame Éléonore Dubotté was a short, plump woman of twenty-five, +fair-haired and white-skinned, with a round, fresh face, and exceedingly +tender blue eyes, which were fixed upon her husband almost all the time. +You will remember that he complained of being loved too well by his +wife.</p> + +<p>Dubotté went to pay his respects to Aldegonde, having with much +difficulty induced his wife to release his arm. Then he shook hands with +Mirotaine, who had reappeared without his decanter, and who seemed much +flattered because Dubotté had at last accepted an invitation to his +house.</p> + +<p>But, at sight of Dubotté, Dodichet had made a most amusing grimace.</p> + +<p>"The deuce!" he murmured; "here's a contretemps I didn't expect. But, +damn the odds! Phœbus has a very<a name="vol_4_page_238" id="vol_4_page_238"></a> nice little wife; I must pay my +court to her. Let's get over the recognition."</p> + +<p>He went straight up to Dubotté, who was already making eyes at +Aldegonde, and cried:</p> + +<p>"Halloo! Dubotté, my dear old friend! By Jove! what a pleasant surprise! +How are you, Dubotté? is this your good wife you have brought with you? +Pray present me to her, my dear friend, so that I may congratulate her +on her husband."</p> + +<p>Philémon Dubotté uttered an exclamation of surprise when he recognized +Dodichet, who had already seized his hand and was shaking it violently.</p> + +<p>"By what chance are you here?" he asked.—"How did you ever come to know +this scamp of a Dodichet, my dear Mirotaine?"</p> + +<p>"What's that? Scamp? I advise you to talk, my fair-haired Phœbus! If +your wife wasn't here, I could tell some fine tales about you!"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Mirotaine glanced from one to the other of the two friends with +a disturbed expression, and seemed to be waiting for Dubotté to explain +himself more definitely concerning the so-called commission merchant in +sugar, whose free and easy manners were not at all agreeable to him. But +Philémon suddenly spied between two hoopskirts the gentleman who had +been introduced as a wealthy Italian count. He rushed up to him, crying:</p> + +<p>"Well, well! I seem to be in a land of old acquaintances! Here's +Monsieur Seringat the druggist, too, whom I had the pleasure of seeing +at Pontoise a year ago.—Good-evening, Monsieur Seringat! how is your +charming wife?"</p> + +<p>When he heard himself called by his real name, Seringat turned pale, +then purple; he put his hand to his<a name="vol_4_page_239" id="vol_4_page_239"></a> head with a despairing gesture, and +said in a faltering voice:</p> + +<p>"No, that isn't true. I am Miflorès; I don't want to be anything but +Miflorès! Let me alone; I don't know you!"</p> + +<p>With that, he pushed aside the two balloons that encompassed him, as +well as all the people who happened to be in his path, hurried from the +salon, seized the first hat he saw in the reception-room, and +disappeared, leaving the whole party speechless with surprise, except +Dodichet, who dropped into a chair and laughed heartily at the effect of +that recognition.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Mirotaine was the first who recovered the use of his tongue.</p> + +<p>"What does this mean?" he cried. "What! this man who was introduced to +me as a wealthy Italian count, who was looking for a young lady without +a dowry to marry, is a druggist from Pontoise, and married already? Why, +then, I have been made a fool of! There has been an attempt to cheat +me!—Answer, monsieur the commission merchant in sugar, and you, Madame +Putiphar, who undertake to arrange marriages! What have you to say?"</p> + +<p>The wardrobe dealer was sorely confused; she pointed to Dodichet, +muttering:</p> + +<p>"Why, it was monsieur who told me that he had a friend—who was very +rich—who wanted a wife.—Come, monsieur, didn't you tell me that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did," Dodichet replied; "I told you so because I thought so. +That rascal of a Miflorès deceived me too, and I am in despair.—But, +after all, Monsieur Mirotaine, I don't see that there's any occasion for +you to fly into such a rage. This mistake has afforded you an +opportunity to<a name="vol_4_page_240" id="vol_4_page_240"></a> give your friends a dinner party; you certainly can't be +sorry for that. And as for myself, it has given me the pleasure of +making your acquaintance, which I hope to cultivate. I will bring you +some specimens of sugar and molasses, first quality. Meanwhile, I must +run after this Miflorès, who has deceived me shamefully. He will have my +life, or I his; but I prefer to have his.—Mesdames, I lay my homage at +your feet!"</p> + +<p>And Dodichet disappeared almost as abruptly as Seringat.</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose that he will really fight with that pretended count?" +Monsieur Mirotaine asked Dubotté.</p> + +<p>"He, fight with the other one! It's easy to see that you don't know +Dodichet! He's a <i>blagueur</i> of the first order, and all this is only a +practical joke that he undertook to play on you."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Mirotaine fell into a chair, utterly overwhelmed.</p> + +<p>"A dinner of eleven covers!" he murmured. "Oh! my fine claret!"</p> + +<p>"And your pretended count has carried off my hat!" shouted Monsieur +Brid'oison, prowling around the dining-room.</p> + +<p>"Cheer up, my dear," said his wife; "the one he has left behind is much +newer than yours!"<a name="vol_4_page_241" id="vol_4_page_241"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="IX-ls" id="IX-ls"></a>IX<br /><br /> +<small>HOW IT BEGAN</small></h2> + +<p>Madame Dermont occupied a pretty little apartment on Rue de +Paradis-Poissonnière; she had only one servant, but that was enough for +a woman who lived alone, received little company, and was happier in her +own home than at the most fashionable social assemblages. She had about +eight thousand francs a year; that would have been very little for one +who desired to follow all the fashions and to live a life of luxury and +dissipation; it was quite sufficient for one who, like her, did not seek +to cut a figure in the world, and who loved to think.</p> + +<p>Nathalie was in her salon, seated at her piano and looking at the music. +But her fingers were motionless on the keys; it is probable, therefore, +that the young woman was thinking of something different from what was +before her. It was two hours after her visit to her young friend +Juliette.</p> + +<p>She was roused from her reverie by the bell. The sound made her start; +and yet, she no longer expected anyone—at least, she no longer expected +the person of whom she was thinking.</p> + +<p>The servant announced Monsieur Adhémar Monbrun. At that name, Nathalie +trembled and the blood rose to her cheeks; she struggled to conceal her +emotion, cast a glance at her dress, and told the maid to admit the +visitor.</p> + +<p>Adhémar entered with the ease of manner which is due to familiarity with +good society, and is the especial attribute of men of letters and +artists.<a name="vol_4_page_242" id="vol_4_page_242"></a></p> + +<p>"I have come rather tardily, madame," he said, "to thank you for your +kindness in sending to inquire about the trifling burn on my hand. You +must have considered me very discourteous for not coming at once to +offer you my acknowledgments, did you not, madame?"</p> + +<p>"Why, no, monsieur; not at all. You had burned yourself in my cause; +surely, the least I could do was to inquire concerning the condition of +your burn; it was my duty; whereas there was no sort of obligation on +you, monsieur, to put yourself out and waste your time by calling upon +me."</p> + +<p>"Oh! madame, allow me to believe that you do not think so ill of me as +to deem it possible that it could put me out to come to see you. I +should be a very unfortunate mortal if it were not a pleasure to me. But +my reason for not coming was——"</p> + +<p>"Well, monsieur, it was——?"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! madame, I don't know just how to say it. I am +embarrassed——"</p> + +<p>"You, monsieur, embarrassed with a lady! Oh! I can't believe it—unless, +indeed, you have something very disagreeable to say to her; in that +case, I can imagine that it comes hard to you."</p> + +<p>"Ah! it seems to me that one could never willingly be disagreeable to +you—and yet——"</p> + +<p>"Well! you haven't told me yet why you didn't come before."</p> + +<p>"Well, madame, it was because I thought that when a man had the good +fortune to be received by you, he must inevitably feel a desire to come +often—yes, very often—and that that might offend you."</p> + +<p>Nathalie lowered her eyes, and murmured:</p> + +<p>"Really? was that why you didn't come?"<a name="vol_4_page_243" id="vol_4_page_243"></a></p> + +<p>"Yes. You know, madame, there is a proverb that warns us against playing +with fire; and, to me, you are the fire at this moment."</p> + +<p>"You have already proved to my satisfaction that you are not afraid of +it. Do all women cause you such terror? Frankly, monsieur, I do not +believe it!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, madame! there are some with whom one cannot encounter anything +more dangerous than an <i>ignis fatuus</i>—and that is not to be feared."</p> + +<p>"A truce to jesting, Monsieur Adhémar; I want to see your wrist, and +satisfy myself that it is really well."</p> + +<p>Adhémar pulled up his sleeve and showed her the wrist that had been +burned. The better to examine it, Nathalie must needs take the hand +which was held out, and draw it toward her; and that hand, when she +touched it, presumed to press hers very tenderly, thereby causing keen +emotion to the young woman, who faltered:</p> + +<p>"It is cured, but you have a great scar there. Mon Dieu! shall you +always have it?"</p> + +<p>"I hope so!"</p> + +<p>"What do you say? you hope so? Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because it will remind me of the day when I had the good fortune to be +of some little service to you."</p> + +<p>"Some little service! Why do you say a little, when it is quite possible +that you saved my life?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! if you really do owe me anything, it depends only on you to pay the +debt."</p> + +<p>"How, pray?"</p> + +<p>"You cannot guess, madame?"</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur; I am not good at guessing."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I beg your pardon—but you should be better able than any other to +divine the thoughts that come from the heart."<a name="vol_4_page_244" id="vol_4_page_244"></a></p> + +<p>"Why I, more than another?"</p> + +<p>"Because there is a something in your eyes which indicates their +perspicacity."</p> + +<p>"If my eyes have such a peculiar expression, I shall not dare to raise +them again."</p> + +<p>"Oh! do not deprive me of the pleasure of looking at them; that would be +a punishment."</p> + +<p>"Come, come, monsieur, don't talk to me in this way; you are in the +habit of making pretty speeches to all women, no matter how little they +may deserve them; but, as a general rule, they are accustomed to your +language, to your flatteries, and they laugh at them because they know +that they must not take too seriously the gallant speeches of a man to +whom love is only a pleasant pastime. But I am not one of those women, +monsieur! I go into society very little, and the life that artists lead +is entirely unfamiliar to me. You will agree, will you not, that if I +should take what you have said to me as being said in earnest, if I +should place any reliance on your words, I should make a great mistake +and should very soon have reason to repent?"</p> + +<p>Adhémar was silent for a few moments; but he looked at Nathalie, and his +expression was almost sad. At last he said, with a sigh:</p> + +<p>"Ah! madame, if I had the good fortune to be loved, I should be too +happy! But, no; women are all inconstant, they never love truly; they +want to be adored, but they reserve the right to love us only in +accordance with their caprice."</p> + +<p>Nathalie could not restrain a smile, as she replied:</p> + +<p>"You have a very singular way of paying court to one of them!"<a name="vol_4_page_245" id="vol_4_page_245"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh! I beg your pardon, madame, I beg your pardon; I didn't mean that to +apply to you!"</p> + +<p>"But you were speaking of women in general?"</p> + +<p>"True; but, of course, there are exceptions."</p> + +<p>"Have you never met any of the exceptions?"</p> + +<p>"No, I have not had that good fortune."</p> + +<p>"And that is what has given you such a bad opinion of all women?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I am wrong, no doubt; for, after all, the fact that no one has ever +loved me doesn't prove that they may not have loved others."</p> + +<p>"Do you say that no one has ever loved you, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"Never really, madame."</p> + +<p>"Are you quite sure of that?"</p> + +<p>"Only too sure, alas!"</p> + +<p>"But, monsieur, have you, who think that no one has ever really loved +you, have you yourself ever loved in that way?"</p> + +<p>Adhémar did not reply for some seconds, then murmured:</p> + +<p>"Why, I think so——"</p> + +<p>"Ah! you are not perfectly sure!"</p> + +<p>"When one is inclined to love passionately, madame, if he sees that his +passion is not reciprocated, don't you think that that should suffice to +lessen his ardor?"</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur, I do not think so; I think that when one is really in +love, it is not so easy to banish from one's heart the object of one's +love. In short, it is my opinion that love is not to be reasoned with, +and that when you come to the point where you begin to reason you have +ceased to love. But, upon my word, this is a strange conversation; one +would think that we had to write an<a name="vol_4_page_246" id="vol_4_page_246"></a> essay on the proper way to +love.—Have you produced a new play or written a new novel since I saw +you?"</p> + +<p>"No, madame, no; I have done nothing."</p> + +<p>"You have been lazy, eh? Fie! that's very bad!"</p> + +<p>"No, I haven't been lazy; but I have been preoccupied—which is by no +means the same thing, and is a much greater hindrance to work."</p> + +<p>"You know Monsieur Lucien Grischard, do you not, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"I do, madame; but how did you know?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! in the most natural way; this Monsieur Lucien knows—indeed, I may +say that he is courting a young lady who is my most intimate friend, +Mademoiselle Juliette Mirotaine."</p> + +<p>"Yes, he is very much in love with her, and would like to marry her; he +has told me that."</p> + +<p>"And Juliette has no secrets from me; she is very fond of this Lucien, +whom her father refuses to allow her to marry. She has told me all her +sorrows."</p> + +<p>"Very good; but I don't quite see where I come in."</p> + +<p>Nathalie blushed, hesitated, and finally replied:</p> + +<p>"If my friend tells me everything that interests her, do you not think, +monsieur, that I should do as much? That accident of mine—which, but +for you, might have been so disastrous to me—I told her about that, and +naturally I told her the name of the person who had—burned himself in +his efforts to put out the fire. When she heard your name, which is so +well known, she cried: 'That gentleman is a friend of Lucien!'—And that +is how I knew that you know him. Is that explanation satisfactory, +monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! madame, it is a thousand times too kind of you to give it to me; my +reason for asking was to find out whether you had remembered me."<a name="vol_4_page_247" id="vol_4_page_247"></a></p> + +<p>"It would have been very ungrateful on my part to forget you so soon."</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! madame, a very clever man has said: 'Ingratitude is +independence of the heart!'—That is rather sad, but it is more or less +true."</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur; ingratitude simply proves that one has no heart."</p> + +<p>The conversation was prolonged to a great length between those two, who +understood each other so well even when they were silent. But Adhémar +was afraid of presuming too far, as it was his first visit; so he took +his leave of Madame Dermont at last, saying:</p> + +<p>"Will you allow me to come to see you again?"</p> + +<p>Nathalie accorded him that permission with such a pleasant smile that it +was impossible to doubt the pleasure it afforded her to give it.</p> + +<p>As he left the pretty widow's presence, Adhémar said to himself:</p> + +<p>"That is a most charming woman; I feel that I should soon love her +dearly. Perhaps it would be wiser for me not to see her again; for, if I +yield to the temptation to love her in good earnest, she will do like +the rest, she will deceive me and make me unhappy. But I am arguing as +if she were already my mistress! What right have I to think that she +will love me, that she will yield to me? But something tells me that she +will. Well, after all, why should I be afraid to be happy when the +opportunity offers? 'We must love!' said Jean-Jacques; 'we must love!' +said Voltaire.—That is the only subject, I fancy, on which those two +famous men agreed. So we must not repulse love when it tries to steal +into our hearts; and even though it should cause us more pain than +pleasure, that is better than not to love at all."<a name="vol_4_page_248" id="vol_4_page_248"></a></p> + +<p>Madame Dermont did not say all that to herself, but she yielded to the +impulse of her heart, which disposed her to love Adhémar; his +personality attracted her, and even before she knew him she loved him +for what he had written. Now that she knew him, it gave her pleasure to +hear him talk; a secret sympathy drew her toward him, and, despite his +low opinion of women, she did not try to combat the love which was +taking possession of her heart; she hoped to compel him in the end to do +justice to her sex; for, as she was not fickle in her tastes, she could +not understand how all women could be frivolous and inconstant.</p> + +<p>It caused her great joy, therefore, to hear Adhémar ask permission to +call upon her again; and if she was unable to conceal the pleasure that +request afforded her, it was because she was not a coquette and did not +attempt to hide her real feelings beneath a feigned indifference.</p> + +<h2><a name="X-ls" id="X-ls"></a>X<br /><br /> +<small>THE DUBOTTÉ HOUSEHOLD</small></h2> + +<p>It is time for us to turn our attention to that husband whom his wife +adored—a state of affairs which is sometimes seen, but which is of +uncommon occurrence none the less. And instead of manifesting his +gratitude for that conjugal adoration, and for the loving caresses which +his wife lavished upon him, by graceful little attentions and amiable +behavior, the husband in question seemed, on the contrary, fatigued, +annoyed, bored, by madame's caresses; indeed, he sometimes evaded them +on the most<a name="vol_4_page_249" id="vol_4_page_249"></a> frivolous pretexts. For men are made that way; and if their +wives deceived them, they would fall in love with them again. Poor, weak +mortals! who complain when you possess, and complain even more loudly +when you have ceased to possess! You are never content, and it is so +with everything! As for myself, ever since I was born, I have constantly +heard men complain of their plight in love, in politics, and in +business; I have always found people discontented; and, at all periods +of time, and under all governments, I have heard merchants and tradesmen +say: "Everything is at a standstill; there's nothing doing; business is +wretched!" and other complaints of the same sort, which do not prevent +business from going on as usual—some making their fortunes, others +becoming insolvent, as in all times.</p> + +<p>After the hurried exit of the false Italian count and the commission +merchant in sugar, the remainder of Monsieur Mirotaine's guests were, as +may be imagined, in a state of much confusion and excitement; those who +had been present at the dinner, and were aware of its object, looked at +one another without speaking; but those who had come for only the +evening plied the host and his wife with innumerable questions; while +they as persistently questioned Dubotté, who had laid bare the fraud.</p> + +<p>"But are you quite sure, my dear Dubotté," said Mirotaine, "that this +pretended Count Miflorès is really one Seringat?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly sure; Seringat, apothecary at Pontoise. I passed nearly two +months in that city, where I went to receive a legacy.—You remember, +Nonore?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I should say so! I was unhappy enough while you were away; I did +nothing but cry!"<a name="vol_4_page_250" id="vol_4_page_250"></a></p> + +<p>"You cry far too much when I am away, my dear love; you must cure +yourself of that habit, or it will make your eyes as red as a +rabbit's.—As I was saying, during my stay at Pontoise I met Monsieur +Seringat in society several times."</p> + +<p>"And he is married?"</p> + +<p>"Very well married; to a very pretty woman, who, I am sure, does not +amuse herself weeping when her husband is away. I had the pleasure of +dancing with her at a party given by the notary of the town."</p> + +<p>"Ah! you bad man! you danced when I wasn't there!"</p> + +<p>"My dear love, if when a man is married he is debarred from tripping the +light fantastic except with his wife, it would be enough to disgust men +with marriage forever! You absolutely refuse to realize that although a +man has a wife he is none the less bound to be always polite and +agreeable to other women. I have told you that a hundred times!"</p> + +<p>"And what about his wife?"</p> + +<p>"Parbleu! his wife has the same rights! And, above all things, she ought +not to do as you do—keep herself in her husband's pocket all the time. +Why, it's beastly form; it's as vulgar as the devil! You really must +cure yourself of that; I don't want you to be vulgar."</p> + +<p>"But," continued Monsieur Mirotaine, "I cannot see what motive this +Monsieur Seringat can have had to present himself in a respectable +house, under a name which doesn't belong to him, and as a man who +desires to marry?"</p> + +<p>"He told you that he desired to marry?"</p> + +<p>"He didn't breathe a word of it," said Aldegonde, "and he didn't make a +single effort to talk with Juliette."<a name="vol_4_page_251" id="vol_4_page_251"></a></p> + +<p>"Then why do you say that he wants to marry; for, unless his wife is +dead—and that seems to me most improbable, as she was young, and as +fresh as a rose——"</p> + +<p>"You noticed that, Philémon?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! my dear love, don't comment in this way on every word I say, I beg +you! I have noticed many other women since."</p> + +<p>"Ah! you villain! And what about me?"</p> + +<p>"You! why, you are my wife, and that ought to satisfy you; it seems to +me that that's something to say!—To cut it short, my dear Mirotaine, I +tell you again, this whole business is probably a joke invented by my +friend Dodichet, who passes his time looking about for somebody to make +a fool of. And so, although he's an old schoolmate of mine, I have never +asked him to my house; not that I am afraid of his nonsense; I have a +wife, thank God! with whom I can sleep with both eyes shut!"</p> + +<p>"And that is just what you do, my dear; you always sleep when you're +with me."</p> + +<p>"Hush, Nonore! These domestic details are never talked about in +company."</p> + +<p>"Why not, my dear?"</p> + +<p>"Why, because——"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Mirotaine was as savage as a bulldog because he had given a +dinner party to no purpose. Aldegonde was annoyed at being deceived by +her dealer in wardrobes, who had gone away in dire confusion at having +made a mess of it. The rest of the company soon followed Madame +Putiphar's example; the three balloons withdrew, constantly colliding +with one another; Monsieur Brid'oison, in the hat which had been left in +place of his; Artaban, climbing on his father's shoulders;<a name="vol_4_page_252" id="vol_4_page_252"></a> Madame +Trichon, rubbing the eye which had received the pickled onion; and young +Callé, looking longingly at Aldegonde, who did not look at him because +she was angry. Juliette alone was happy, but she dared not show it.</p> + +<p>Lastly, Dubotté and his wife took leave of the host and hostess.</p> + +<p>"This party has been a failure," said Philémon to young Callé, who put +on his gloves as he went downstairs. "It's only ten o'clock—what in the +deuce can we do now?"</p> + +<p>"Seven minutes past ten!" said the young spark, looking at his watch; "I +agree with the Treasury."</p> + +<p>"Never mind; a fellow can't go home to bed at seven minutes after ten; +for my part, I hate to go to bed early."</p> + +<p>"True—it's bad form."</p> + +<p>"But you always want me to go to bed early, my dear."</p> + +<p>"Yes—because it's very healthy for women; they need more sleep than we +do.—Which way are you going, Monsieur Callé?"</p> + +<p>"Rue de la Tour d'Auvergne, No. 8, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! and we live on Rue Bleue, within a few steps. By the way, +Monsieur Callé, are you related to a Callé of Lyon, wholesale dealer in +silks?"</p> + +<p>"He's my cousin, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Pardieu! he's one of my best friends. When we were bachelors, he used +to come to Paris often; we've had many a spree together!"</p> + +<p>"What, my dear! did you ever go on sprees?"</p> + +<p>"I was speaking to Monsieur Callé, Nonore; it doesn't concern you.—So +you are Édouard Callé's cousin?"</p> + +<p>"I have that honor."</p> + +<p>"Sapristi! what a bore it is to go home at ten o'clock!"<a name="vol_4_page_253" id="vol_4_page_253"></a></p> + +<p>"If you want to take me anywhere, my dear, I am all ready."</p> + +<p>"Why, no, madame, no; I don't care to take you anywhere to-night. It's +too late to go to the theatre—so there's nowhere to go but a café, and +men don't take their wives to a café; it's very bad form. Besides, women +don't enjoy it, and they're terribly in the way."</p> + +<p>"But you go there a great deal!"</p> + +<p>"I go to my club—a most excellent club, where one can always have a +game of cards; and I confess that I am strongly inclined to go there and +play a game of whist."</p> + +<p>"Well! take me to your club."</p> + +<p>"Upon my word! as if women were ever admitted! Women at a club! Why, we +couldn't hear ourselves talk! I feel just like going there to-night, but +it's in an entirely different direction from my house. It just occurs to +me that as Monsieur Callé lives in our quarter, it would not +inconvenience him very much to leave you at our door; in that way, I +could go to my club."</p> + +<p>"I am entirely at your service, monsieur, and it will give me great +pleasure to escort madame."</p> + +<p>"What! you are going to leave me, Philémon? you are going to send me +home with monsieur, whom I hardly know?"</p> + +<p>"Why, bless my soul, Nonore! I don't see that monsieur has a very +terrifying aspect. Besides, he is a friend of Mirotaine, and the cousin +of a man with whom I am very intimate; so he isn't a stranger to me."</p> + +<p>"I don't care for that; you know very well that I am not in the habit of +taking any man's arm but yours."</p> + +<p>"Exactly; and it's a most absurd idea, of which you must cure +yourself."<a name="vol_4_page_254" id="vol_4_page_254"></a></p> + +<p>With that, the fair-haired beau took his wife's arm from within his own +and turned it over to the young man, who was modestly waiting.</p> + +<p>"My dear Monsieur Callé," he said, "I intrust my wife to you, and my +mind is entirely at ease; I am convinced that you won't lose her."</p> + +<p>"Oh! no, monsieur; I will not leave madame until she is safely inside +her door."</p> + +<p>"Thanks.—Au revoir, Nonore! go right to bed; I shan't be late."</p> + +<p>"Philémon! Philémon! you are going away without kissing me!"</p> + +<p>But Philémon was already at some distance; delighted to be rid of his +wife, he had fairly taken to his heels. The loving Éléonore heaved a +profound sigh, and decided at last to take the arm which young Callé +offered her. They walked away, the little woman still sighing, her +escort cudgelling his brain to think of something to say to console her.</p> + +<p>"If madame thinks that we are walking too fast," he faltered at last, +"we can walk more slowly."</p> + +<p>"Oh! this is all right, monsieur."</p> + +<p>And they walked on in silence. In a moment, the little woman, who was +rather fond of talking, opened the conversation.</p> + +<p>"You are not married, are you, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"No, madame; I am a bachelor."</p> + +<p>"When you are married, shall you send your wife home under the escort of +some acquaintance?"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! madame, I must confess that I don't know what I shall do."</p> + +<p>"Shall you be displeased if your wife always wants to go out with you?"<a name="vol_4_page_255" id="vol_4_page_255"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh! I think not, madame."</p> + +<p>"Will it annoy you, if she comes to you often for a kiss?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! certainly not; far from it! especially if—especially if she—no, +it wouldn't annoy me."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Callé had tried to pay a compliment to the lady on his arm, but +it would not come out.</p> + +<p>"Well," continued Éléonore, "my husband often pushes me away when I take +a fancy to kiss him."</p> + +<p>"He does it in joke, of course?"</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur; sometimes he even scolds me; he declares that my manners +are vulgar; that only workingmen's wives kiss their husbands like that. +Is that true?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I can't tell you, madame."</p> + +<p>"If it is, I am sorry my husband isn't a workingman; because then I +could kiss him when I wanted to, and he wouldn't think I was +ridiculous."</p> + +<p>Callé made no reply, but he thought:</p> + +<p>"It seems that this lady is very fond of kissing. If I were her husband, +I wouldn't object. She isn't such a beautiful woman as Madame Mirotaine, +but her manner is gentler—and then, she seems to be very caressing."</p> + +<p>In due time they arrived at Dubotté's abode. Éléonore thanked her +escort, who bowed respectfully and tried again to make some +complimentary remark, but with no better success, although his efforts +were rewarded by a courtesy.</p> + +<p>"That gentleman is very polite," said Madame Dubotté to herself, as she +entered the house; "but he doesn't talk enough."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Dubotté, who returned home very late that night, because he had +been elsewhere than to his club,<a name="vol_4_page_256" id="vol_4_page_256"></a> did his utmost to get into bed without +waking his wife; a manœuvre which he often executed, and in which he +was very skilful. The next morning, while he was dressing, he said to +madame:</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear love, were you content with your escort? You got home +without accident, I fancy?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, he's a very nice young man; he brought me to the door."</p> + +<p>"Pardieu! did you suppose he would drop you half-way? You asked him to +come to see us, I hope?"</p> + +<p>"No, I didn't; why should I ask him?"</p> + +<p>"You should have done so; it would have been no more than polite. Do you +know, I like that little Callé; I should be very glad to have him visit +us. He's a young man to whom one can safely intrust his wife."</p> + +<p>"Why, my dear, do you expect to send me about with another man often?"</p> + +<p>"I don't say that; but there are unforeseen circumstances. For instance: +we have tickets to the theatre; I often have them, you know, through my +connection with the actors. Well, I can't go; or, at least, I can't go +till very late; then what do I do? I ask Callé to escort you to the +theatre, and I join you there when I have finished my business; do you +see?"</p> + +<p>"What! you would let me go to the theatre with another man? O Philémon!"</p> + +<p>"But if I come and join you there, it's precisely the same thing as if I +went with you! That sort of thing is done every day."</p> + +<p>"Well, I simply shouldn't enjoy it without you."</p> + +<p>"Don't you understand that I would come, too—later?"</p> + +<p>"That isn't the same thing."<a name="vol_4_page_257" id="vol_4_page_257"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh! how far behind the times you are, my dear love! Luckily, I know +that young man's address; he told us what it was: No. 8, Rue de la Tour +d'Auvergne."</p> + +<p>"And you mean to go to see him?"</p> + +<p>"His cousin was my intimate friend, and he can tell me something about +him. Stay! I have an idea: I'll invite him to dinner; the fellow's all +right socially, so that we can afford to receive him; he isn't like that +scamp Dodichet—there's a man I will never invite! That was a neat trick +he played on Mirotaine. But why is this Seringat, this Pontoise +druggist, in Paris under an assumed name? What can he have done with his +wife? If I had time, I'd go to Pontoise and find out."</p> + +<p>"You'd take me with you, wouldn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! there you are again! how amusing that would be! To stuff my wife in +my pocket for a little trip of twenty-four hours, and double, yes, +treble the expense! That would be downright idiocy. But, don't worry; I +haven't the time to go to Pontoise."</p> + +<h2><a name="XI-ls" id="XI-ls"></a>XI<br /><br /> +<small>DUBOTTÉ ATTEMPTS TO TRAIN HIS WIFE</small></h2> + +<p>A few days later, Dubotté said to his wife:</p> + +<p>"My dear love, we shall have two people to dinner to-morrow; tell the +cook to be careful with the dinner, and, above all things, don't forget +the sweets; I don't enjoy my dinner, you know, unless I have sweets."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you have a very sweet tooth."</p> + +<p>"Every man who loves women must love sweet things."<a name="vol_4_page_258" id="vol_4_page_258"></a></p> + +<p>"Ah! you love them too well, you bad boy!"</p> + +<p>"Sweet things?"</p> + +<p>"No, women! If you loved only your own wife, it would be all right."</p> + +<p>"My dear love, I might retort: I love <i>crême au chocolat</i>! But if you +should always give me that for dinner, I might get tired of it."</p> + +<p>"What does that mean? that you care no more for me than you do for a +<i>crême au chocolat</i>?"</p> + +<p>"That was a little joke. Think about your dinner for to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Whom have you asked? My two dear friends, Madame Lambert and her +sister, I am sure."</p> + +<p>"No, I haven't asked your friends. Madame Lambert takes snuff, and I +consider it a detestable habit in a woman. Let her smoke, if she wants +to; I can stand that; there are some very pretty women who smoke, +nowadays. But to carry a snuff-box! horror! When she takes out her +handkerchief, you would think you were in a porter's lodge. With her +sister it's something else: whenever you look at her, she throws her +head to one side and shakes it and blinks her eyes."</p> + +<p>"That isn't her fault; it's a nervous trouble."</p> + +<p>"I don't say it is her fault, but I don't dare to look at people who +have that sort of trouble; I am always afraid that I shall do just what +they do. I have asked two gentlemen to dinner; that will be livelier, +not so strait-laced; we can laugh and enjoy ourselves. There'll be +Bruneau, one of my fellow clerks in the department——"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I don't like your friend Bruneau; he's good for nothing but to +smoke and drink beer, and doesn't enjoy himself anywhere except in +cafés. As soon as dinner's over, he'll want to go to the café, of +course. So polite<a name="vol_4_page_259" id="vol_4_page_259"></a> to me! If he would only go alone, I wouldn't care a +rap; but he always takes you with him!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! no, not always; only once in a while, to play a four-handed game of +dominoes; he's very strong at it."</p> + +<p>"And who's the other?"</p> + +<p>"The other—can't you guess? It's the young man who was obliging enough +to escort you home the other evening—Monsieur Callé."</p> + +<p>"Have you been to his house?"</p> + +<p>"I was on my way there when I met him. He told me all about his cousin, +and we had quite a long talk; he seems a very pleasant fellow."</p> + +<p>"That's funny, for he hardly spoke a word to me."</p> + +<p>"He looks as if he was very bashful. However, I asked him to come to +dinner to-morrow, and he seemed much flattered by the invitation."</p> + +<p>"What's the sense of having him to dinner?"</p> + +<p>"My dear love, we must have a little company, deuce take it! we can't +live like bears!"</p> + +<p>"You never ask <i>my</i> friends!"</p> + +<p>"If there were any pretty women among them, I'd invite them fast enough, +never fear! but they vie with one another in ugliness."</p> + +<p>"That does not prevent their being agreeable!"</p> + +<p>"For my part, I find them mortally tiresome."</p> + +<p>Young Callé, who was deeply touched by Dubotté's invitation, did not +fail to appear promptly, after taking the most minute pains with his +costume; for his bashfulness did not prevent his being a good deal of a +dandy. Éléonore greeted her quondam cavalier graciously enough, although +he could not succeed in uttering the compliment he tried to address to +her; the little woman felt more at ease with a bashful young man, and +she<a name="vol_4_page_260" id="vol_4_page_260"></a> liked him much better than Monsieur Bruneau, the frequenter of +cafés.</p> + +<p>The latter was a man of forty years, neither handsome nor ugly, but +always carelessly dressed. There was always a certain disorder in his +costume, although his clothes themselves were as fine as other men's. +But, generally speaking, it is the way clothes are worn that makes all +the difference, and we see men very well dressed who never look so, +while others, even in the simplest costume, seem to be dressed with the +greatest elegance. Monsieur Bruneau never wore gloves, he had a sort of +dirty aspect, and smelt of tobacco a mile away. He passed all the time +he was not employed at the department in playing dominoes and drinking +beer or absinthe. To his mind, women were of less importance than the +double-blank. But Dubotté was much attached to Bruneau, because when he +desired to keep an appointment with one of the fair sex he had only to +make a sign to his friend, who never failed to say:</p> + +<p>"Just come to the café for a few moments; those domino fiends are +waiting for us; we'll play the best two games in three, then you can +come back to your wife."</p> + +<p>Dubotté would assent, promise Éléonore to return very soon, and pass the +whole evening away from her. It was small wonder, therefore, that such +friends were not at all welcome to madame, and that she preferred to +them a young man who was so bashful that he stumbled over a compliment.</p> + +<p>Dubotté received Callé as if he had known him for years; he shook hands +with him effusively; a little more, and he would have embraced him. +Dinner was served, and, in the midst of the conversation, Dubotté +exclaimed:<a name="vol_4_page_261" id="vol_4_page_261"></a></p> + +<p>"Pardieu! I know now why Dodichet played that joke on poor Mirotaine; it +has just come back to me. One of our mutual friends, a poor fellow named +Lucien, is in love with Mademoiselle Mirotaine.—Did you know that, +Monsieur Callé?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur; I have heard Madame Mirotaine say so; but as the young +man has nothing, they refuse to give him Mademoiselle Juliette."</p> + +<p>"Exactly; Lucien told us about it not long ago; he was afraid that some +rich man would marry the girl, who has no dowry, but who is very +pretty.—Don't you think she's pretty, Nonore?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! to those who like brunettes."</p> + +<p>"And I remember that Dodichet said to Lucien: 'Don't you want me to help +along your love affair by playing some good practical joke on your old +skinflint of a Mirotaine?'—He called him an old skinflint, because he's +very close-fisted, very miserly; you must have noticed that?"</p> + +<p>"I have never paid any attention to that, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Well, he didn't miss fire."</p> + +<p>"Oh! but that was a very scurvy trick for him to play—to get himself +and his friend invited to dinner!"</p> + +<p>"And by Mirotaine! For my part, I think it was very clever! Dodichet is +really much cleverer than I supposed."</p> + +<p>"What does he do?"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! nothing at all. He has run through all his property, making +sport of everybody all the while! But what will it bring him to? +Starvation!—for, in this world, we all have to do something in order to +succeed—to make a good position for ourselves;—eh, Bruneau?"</p> + +<p>"How's that? what?"<a name="vol_4_page_262" id="vol_4_page_262"></a></p> + +<p>"Pshaw! he never attends to the conversation!"</p> + +<p>"Give me something to drink; I like that better."</p> + +<p>"I was saying that everyone has his goal here on earth; I know what mine +is, and I shall get there!—You must have a goal, too, Monsieur +Callé—you, too, want to arrive, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Arrive where, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"I have no idea. What is your business?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't any, monsieur; I don't do anything. I have ten thousand +francs a year."</p> + +<p>"That makes a difference—you have arrived!"</p> + +<p>"I," said Monsieur Bruneau, "am one of the strongest domino players in +Paris; and that was the point I wanted to arrive at.—Do you play +dominoes, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur; I don't know how to play anything but bézique."</p> + +<p>"Ah! do you play bézique?" cried Dubotté. "That's my wife's favorite +game; she adores bézique.—Isn't that so, Nonore? aren't you very fond +of the game?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear, I like to play with you."</p> + +<p>"True; but you'd enjoy it much more to play with somebody else; for when +you and I play, whether the stakes are two sous or ten, we never pay; +how exciting that is! With anybody else, you stake your money in +earnest, and defend it, which is always much more interesting."</p> + +<p>After dinner, Dubotté immediately prepared a card table and said to +Callé:</p> + +<p>"You and my wife must play a game of bézique; she plays very well."</p> + +<p>"With pleasure, monsieur; I will do whatever you wish."</p> + +<p>"It would be much better for you to play with monsieur, my dear; you +play much better than I."<a name="vol_4_page_263" id="vol_4_page_263"></a></p> + +<p>"Not by any means! I tell you that you know the game perfectly."</p> + +<p>"But what will you do while we play?"</p> + +<p>"I will look over you, or talk with Bruneau; don't worry about me."</p> + +<p>The little woman concluded to take the cards, solely to obey her +husband, for she had a shrewd suspicion that he would not stay long to +watch the game. Young Callé, who was ready to do whatever was wanted, +seated himself opposite Éléonore, and said:</p> + +<p>"How much does madame wish to play for?"</p> + +<p>"I don't care at all."</p> + +<p>"With how many packs?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know."</p> + +<p>"How much shall we play for?"</p> + +<p>"Whatever you choose."</p> + +<p>"Come, come, my dear love, don't be such a fool! Sapristi! you play with +four packs, ten sous the game of two thousand; we make the five hundred +and the fifteen hundred with treble bézique—that's how we always +play.—Is that satisfactory to you, Callé?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! anything suits me, monsieur."</p> + +<p>The game began. Dubotté stood by the table at first, watching the game, +and exclaiming from time to time:</p> + +<p>"Bravo, Nonore, bravo! you play superbly; you will certainly win.—I +think my wife will beat you, Callé!"</p> + +<p>"I trust so, monsieur."</p> + +<p>When the game was well under way, Dubotté made a sign to Bruneau, who +said:</p> + +<p>"I promised Durand to meet him at the café this evening; I must go."</p> + +<p>"Ah! will Durand be at the café? I have a matter of business to talk +over with him."<a name="vol_4_page_264" id="vol_4_page_264"></a></p> + +<p>"Very well; come down there for a moment with me."</p> + +<p>"I think I will, as it's only a step. I'll just go and say two words to +him."</p> + +<p>Seeing Dubotté take his hat, his wife cried:</p> + +<p>"What, Philémon! are you going out?"</p> + +<p>"For ten minutes only; I will come right back."</p> + +<p>"And monsieur here?"</p> + +<p>"Pardieu! I don't stand on ceremony with Monsieur Callé. He will +certainly excuse me if I go out for a moment."</p> + +<p>"Oh! as long as you choose, monsieur; don't mind me."</p> + +<p>"Besides, you're playing cards with him. Play on! play on! make double +bézique! I am coming right back."</p> + +<p>"But, Philémon——"</p> + +<p>"I shall be here in ten minutes."</p> + +<p>And the fair-haired beau vanished with his confederate, Bruneau. Nonore +sighed, but continued to play. She vanquished her opponent, who lost +every game. Did he do it as a matter of courtesy, or was luck constantly +on the young woman's side? She kept saying to him:</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! monsieur, it must vex you to lose all the time!"</p> + +<p>"No, madame; far from it."</p> + +<p>"When you have had enough, we will stop."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I never have enough, when I have the pleasure—when I am playing +with—a person——Four aces, madame."</p> + +<p>"Mark them, monsieur."</p> + +<p>Midnight found Callé still at bézique with Madame Dubotté, who had won +four francs, but was beginning to yawn. When the clock struck twelve, +she said:</p> + +<p>"You see, monsieur; this is what my husband means by ten minutes!"<a name="vol_4_page_265" id="vol_4_page_265"></a></p> + +<p>"He must have been detained, madame, or his watch has stopped."</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur; but it's always this way when he goes out alone, and it +makes me very unhappy! It is midnight, monsieur, and I must not impose +upon your good nature any longer. We have played enough. My husband is +far from polite, I must say! He asks you to dinner, and then goes +out——"</p> + +<p>"Oh! madame—I assure you that—I much prefer—I did not +care—especially as——"</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Monsieur Callé!"</p> + +<p>"Madame, I have the honor to salute you!"</p> + +<p>And the young man took his leave without finishing his compliment.</p> + +<h2><a name="XII-ls" id="XII-ls"></a>XII<br /><br /> +<small>EXPEL THE NATURAL INSTINCTS, AND THEY RETURN AT THE GALLOP</small></h2> + +<p>A month had passed since Adhémar paid his first visit to Madame Dermont. +In the week following their conversation, he had called every other day, +and since then had not let a single day pass without seeing her. What +had happened between them that their intimacy had become so close? It +seems to me that you should be able to guess.</p> + +<p>Nathalie had made an instant conquest of Adhémar's heart; she was the +woman whom he was seeking, whom he desired to meet, whom he ardently +longed to have for his mistress, and, above all, by whom he aspired to +be<a name="vol_4_page_266" id="vol_4_page_266"></a> loved; she possessed all that he wished to find in a sweetheart; and +still he had tried for some time—not for long—to struggle against the +inclination of his heart; for the more strongly he felt that he really +loved Nathalie, the stronger was his foreboding that he should be +unhappy if he could not succeed in inspiring something more than a mere +passing sentiment in return for a sincere passion.</p> + +<p>Nathalie, on the other hand, had not tried to combat the sentiments +which Adhémar aroused in her heart. Being a widow, and absolute mistress +of her acts, why should she have spurned the love which she read in his +eyes, and which he expressed so well? A coquettish woman would, perhaps, +have postponed the moment of surrender; a woman who is really in love +offers only a weak resistance, for she shares the happiness she gives.</p> + +<p>Adhémar often asked Nathalie now:</p> + +<p>"Is it really true that you love me?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! my dear, how can you ask me that? What fresh proof do you want me +to give you of my love?"</p> + +<p>"Forgive me! that isn't what I meant. I only feared—for I am not +agreeable every day—I dreaded that—that you might cease to love me."</p> + +<p>"How ill you judge me! Do you take me for one of those women to whom +love is a mere whim and never a real sentiment?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, I don't think so; I was wrong; I am often unjust."</p> + +<p>"You are afraid that I shall not always find you agreeable?—what +nonsense! When you are with me, I am happy, and that is enough for me. +Be thoughtful, abstracted—serious even! I see you and am with you; I +ask nothing more. I say to myself: 'He is thinking<a name="vol_4_page_267" id="vol_4_page_267"></a> about his work, +about some new plot, perhaps. I mustn't disturb him. In a moment, he +will come back to me; he will see that I am by his side.'"</p> + +<p>"Ah! Nathalie! I love you so dearly! Do you know, it seems to me +sometimes that I love you too much!"</p> + +<p>"One never loves too much, my dear, when he inspires as much love as he +gives. Believe me, you do not go ahead of me!"</p> + +<p>And, on leaving her, Adhémar said to himself:</p> + +<p>"Yes, she really loves me; for, if she doesn't, why should she pretend +to? What motive has she to deceive me? She certainly is not guided by +any selfish interest, for she refuses to receive the slightest present +from me; she told me in the most positive terms that she would be +seriously angry with me if I gave her anything but flowers!—'I have the +wherewithal to satisfy all my tastes and fancies,' she said; 'I want +nothing from you but love; the best gift from you would offend me, for I +should say to myself that you thought it was necessary to make me love +you!'—I had no choice but to obey her.—Upon my word, I believe I have +found a woman who will not deceive me! it's a miracle!"</p> + +<p>In return for her affection, Madame Dermont demanded from her lover +nothing but entire confidence; she would not admit the possibility of +his being jealous, and often said to him:</p> + +<p>"To suspect the woman you love is an insult to her; as you are perfectly +sure that I love you, you should never dream for an instant that I am +deceiving you."</p> + +<p>Adhémar thought that Nathalie was perfectly right; but jealousy is a +sentiment that does not come and go at the word of command; some people +are born jealous, just as some are born quarrelsome, petulant, or +cowardly.<a name="vol_4_page_268" id="vol_4_page_268"></a> Education may teach us to disguise our failings, but it does +not eradicate them.</p> + +<p>One morning, calling at Madame Dermont's a little earlier than usual, +Adhémar found her with a clouded brow; and although she received him +with her accustomed cordiality, it seemed to him that she was distraught +and that her smile was not so frank and open as usual. He fixed his eyes +on hers and asked:</p> + +<p>"Has anything gone wrong with you this morning?"</p> + +<p>"With me, my dear? Why, no! nothing, I assure you."</p> + +<p>"You seem preoccupied, however; is nothing troubling you?"</p> + +<p>"What do you suppose can be troubling me?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, I trust! But I ask you the question."</p> + +<p>"My dear, so long as you love me, nothing will ever trouble me."</p> + +<p>"So much the better; in that case, nothing ever will. I was thinking +that, as we are not always together—that is to say, in my absence you +might have had visitors."</p> + +<p>"You are mistaken, my dear; for me, you are never absent; you are +constantly in my thoughts."</p> + +<p>Adhémar put his mistress's hand to his lips. But in a few minutes his +brow darkened anew; he drew a long breath, then exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"This is very strange!"</p> + +<p>"What is, my dear?"</p> + +<p>"It smells of tobacco smoke here."</p> + +<p>"Do you think so? I don't smell anything."</p> + +<p>"Oh! that's because you don't choose to. It smells of tobacco, and of +poor tobacco, too! I should think that someone had been smoking a pipe +here."</p> + +<p>Madame Dermont turned her head away as she replied:<a name="vol_4_page_269" id="vol_4_page_269"></a></p> + +<p>"It may have been the water carrier who brought the smell here."</p> + +<p>"The water carrier? I didn't suppose that he came into your bedroom, and +your kitchen is some distance away. That was not a happy reply."</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! my dear, what do you mean by that? Not a happy reply! Do you +mean to say that you attach any importance to such a trifle?"</p> + +<p>"A trifle! You know, madame, the proverb says that there's no smoke +without some fire; and, in like manner, there's no smell of tobacco +smoke without a smoker. I came too early to-day, probably!"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by that, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"I mean—it's easy enough to understand! You have had some visitor who +was smoking. The devil! a man must be on very familiar terms with a lady +to smoke in her bedroom! Who has been here to see you so early?"</p> + +<p>Nathalie paced the floor impatiently, murmuring:</p> + +<p>"What a lot of questions about a smell that may have come from the +neighbor's!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! you have no neighbor on this side."</p> + +<p>"So this is your confidence in me, Adhémar?—'I shall never be jealous,' +you said."</p> + +<p>"Women are the most astonishing creatures! When you ask them a question, +they answer with another, which is a very clever way of not answering at +all. Will you tell me who has been here this morning, who has had the +presumption to smoke a pipe in your apartment, or, at all events, to +poison the air with the smell of a pipe?"</p> + +<p>"No one, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Very well, madame; I came too early to-day; that will teach me a lesson +for another time."<a name="vol_4_page_270" id="vol_4_page_270"></a></p> + +<p>And Adhémar seized his hat and rushed from the room; while Nathalie, +having at first started to detain him, overcame the impulse to do so.</p> + +<p>"She has certainly had a visitor who smoked," said Adhémar to himself, +as he went away, "but she won't admit it. I don't claim that she +shouldn't receive anyone at all; but if that was an innocent visit, she +wouldn't have denied it. So she evidently has mysteries—secrets from +me. Therefore, she deceives me; she's no better than the rest. Ah, me! I +ought to have expected it! It's all over; I will never go to her house +again!"</p> + +<p>All day long, the jealous wretch kept repeating those words: "I will +never go to her house again!" And he rushed hither and thither, to cafés +and theatres and parties; did all that he could to divert his thoughts, +and did not succeed. The next day he was very much depressed, and said +to himself as he went out:</p> + +<p>"I will not go to see her, that is sure! What a shame! I loved her so +dearly—more than I have ever before loved a woman! That makes her +treachery the more outrageous. Ah! I was very wise to make up my mind +that I would never care for any woman again."</p> + +<p>Musing thus as he walked, Adhémar arrived in front of the house where +Madame Dermont lived.</p> + +<p>"So much for habit!" he thought. "I came here without knowing it. But I +won't go in. Still, I may as well walk in this neighborhood as anywhere. +I'll look at her windows; that will give me something to think about."</p> + +<p>For two hours he walked up and down in front of the house, gazing at +Nathalie's windows, walking rapidly away when he fancied that he saw +someone through the glass, and sighing when he saw no one. Suddenly he<a name="vol_4_page_271" id="vol_4_page_271"></a> +felt a hand on his shoulder; it was one of his colleagues, who said to +him:</p> + +<p>"What on earth are you doing here, Adhémar? Are you on the lookout for a +scene or a dénouement?"</p> + +<p>"Faith! yes; I was thinking over a new subject."</p> + +<p>"Come with me; you can tell me your plan as we walk."</p> + +<p>"I'll go with you gladly; but I won't tell you anything, because you +would want to be in the play."</p> + +<p>"Well! I would do my share."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, I know you! you hang around, you make absurd remarks, you abuse +your confrères, you find fault with everything that others do, and never +produce anything yourself. That's the way you do your share!"</p> + +<p>"You are very polite this morning! I am in several plays, nevertheless, +which have had some success."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am well aware that you are; but that doesn't prove that you had +anything to do with them. We know how it's worked on the stage nowadays, +all the scheming and jobbing that go on there!"</p> + +<p>"You are in a savage mood to-day! Do you know that I should be justified +in demanding satisfaction for what you have said?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I'm at your service. Do you want to fight? I ask nothing better."</p> + +<p>"And I haven't the slightest desire to do it! You're in a bad temper, +and I am not. You're looking for a quarrel, and I am looking for sport. +Adieu!"</p> + +<p>"He is right," Adhémar reflected, when he was alone again. "I am ugly, +because she has made me unhappy. It's always the women who make us what +we are!"</p> + +<p>The next day, after long hesitation, Adhémar surrendered; he could not +resist his ardent longing to see her whom he had tried in vain to +forget.<a name="vol_4_page_272" id="vol_4_page_272"></a></p> + +<p>"The idea," he thought, "of losing my temper, of quarrelling over a +smell of tobacco smoke, which may have come from the neighbor's after +all! Pshaw! there's no sense in that!"</p> + +<p>He flew rather than ran to Madame Dermont's, and did not give the +servant time to warn her mistress, but rushed into her room. Nathalie +was alone, but her eyes were red and tears were still standing in them. +Adhémar threw himself at her feet, seized her hands, and covered them +with kisses.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me! forgive me! I have made you unhappy. In pity's name, +forgive me!"</p> + +<p>"Three days without coming to see me! Ah! my friend, is this your love +for me?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, yes, I adore you, and that is why I am so jealous."</p> + +<p>"I forbade you to be jealous, and you promised. Have you ceased to +believe in my love?"</p> + +<p>"I am a guilty wretch—I am, indeed—since I have made you shed tears."</p> + +<p>"I thought it was all over, that you would never come again."</p> + +<p>"As if that would be possible! As if I could exist without you! But let +us forget this storm; you forgive me, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course. But, I beg you, my dear, don't give way to these +transports of jealousy. Suspicion wounds the most loving heart."</p> + +<p>"It is all over. I am cured."</p> + +<p>Peace was concluded, and once more the most perfect harmony reigned +between those two, who were so well suited to each other. A fortnight +had passed since the reconciliation, when the ill-fated odor of tobacco +was<a name="vol_4_page_273" id="vol_4_page_273"></a> once more perceptible in Madame Dermont's apartments when her lover +came to see her during the day. Adhémar said nothing. He even determined +not to show that he noticed the smell. He tried to be as amiable and +lively as usual; but, in spite of his efforts, he was distraught and +often replied at random to what Nathalie said to him. She too, probably +suspecting the cause of his preoccupation, was decidedly embarrassed.</p> + +<p>Adhémar prolonged his visit, however, and had been with his mistress a +considerable time, when, as he glanced aimlessly about the room, he +spied something on the floor, close against the long window curtains, +which partially covered it. That object, which was of peculiar shape, +aroused our author's curiosity, and, seizing a moment when Nathalie was +arranging some flowers, he walked quickly across the room and picked up +what he had seen. He examined it at close quarters and was stupefied to +see that it was a pipe case.</p> + +<p>"You can't tell me now that you do not receive visits from a smoker!" +cried Adhémar, well-nigh speechless with rage.</p> + +<p>"What is it now, my friend?" replied Nathalie, leaving her flowers.</p> + +<p>"What is it! Mon Dieu! madame, the veriest trifle. See! this is what I +just picked up, over by your window, where you hoped, no doubt, that it +was well hidden."</p> + +<p>"What is it, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you know what it is, madame?"</p> + +<p>"No, I give you my word that I haven't an idea."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's a pipe case—a filthy pipe case, which smells pestiferous. +The pipe isn't inside; probably the person to whom it belongs was +smoking when he went away."<a name="vol_4_page_274" id="vol_4_page_274"></a></p> + +<p>Nathalie blushed and frowned slightly, but said nothing. Adhémar's wrath +waxed hotter; he scrutinized the case anew, then handed it to the young +woman.</p> + +<p>"Here, madame—pray take it; you can return it to the man who owns it. +Ah! so I was not mistaken the other day in thinking that you had +received a visitor who smoked?"</p> + +<p>"Well, monsieur, suppose it were true? All men smoke, nowadays."</p> + +<p>"All men? Aha! so you admit now that you have received a man—and in +your bedroom! Who is he? where did he come from? what did he come here +for? How long has he been coming here? Answer me, madame!"</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur, no; I will not answer when I am questioned as you +question me!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! that's an excellent scheme, I see! When you women can't think +up a lie on the spur of the moment, you fall back on your dignity. That +does very well with simpletons, but I hoped that you wouldn't treat me +as one of them. I had too much self-esteem!"</p> + +<p>"Adhémar, this is a very brutal way to talk to me! Is this how you keep +your promises?"</p> + +<p>"Madame, a man is never jealous without some reason. I was right before; +I have the proof of it to-day. You must have intrigues, since you +conceal from me the visits you receive. And when a woman has intrigues, +when she receives men in secret—why, everybody knows what that means!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! monsieur——"</p> + +<p>"You deceive me just as all the others have! I ought to have expected +it. And yet, I thought that I had had better fortune this time. Ah! +these women! But<a name="vol_4_page_275" id="vol_4_page_275"></a> it is all over now, all over! I will never be their +dupe again!"</p> + +<p>And Adhémar dashed the pipe case, which he still held, on the floor, and +rushed from the room, frantic with rage, without looking at Nathalie.</p> + +<h2><a name="XIII-ls" id="XIII-ls"></a>XIII<br /><br /> +<small>A YOUNG MAN WHO DID NOT SMOKE</small></h2> + +<p>You will remember that after the famous dinner given by Mirotaine, at +which Dubotté had recognized in the soi-disant Italian count an +apothecary of Pontoise, the latter had instantly left the company; and +that, very shortly thereafter, Dodichet had done the same, declaring his +purpose to challenge Miflorès, who had deceived him by holding himself +out as a bachelor. But he had no sooner left the Mirotaine abode than, +instead of pursuing Seringat, whom he was certain of finding at home the +next day, Dodichet betook himself to the address given by Lucien, to +whom he was anxious to relate all that he had done in the interest of +his love affair.</p> + +<p>Having arrived on Quai Jemmapes, by way of Pont du Faubourg du Temple, +Dodichet said to himself:</p> + +<p>"I wonder which corner it is—the right or the left? I forgot to ask him +that. I'll go to both. On the left, I was told, used to stand the famous +Vendanges de Bourgogne—a restaurant which was noted for its sheep's +feet, and used to be a great place for weddings and banquets. <i>Sic +transit gloria mundi.</i> On the right, there used to be nothing but +swamps, I believe. I'll begin at the left.<a name="vol_4_page_276" id="vol_4_page_276"></a> I can't be too sure of +finding Lucien at home. A bachelor doesn't stay in his room in the +evening; indeed, he often goes out during the day, and sometimes sleeps +out. Never mind; perhaps they can tell me what café he usually goes to +for his cigar; for he must smoke somewhere."</p> + +<p>In the first house at which Dodichet asked for Lucien Grischard, the +reply was:</p> + +<p>"This is the place, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Ah! is it, indeed? Excellent! Where am I likely to find him in the +evening?"</p> + +<p>"Why, in his room, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"What! does he stay at home in the evening? doesn't he ever go out?"</p> + +<p>"Very rarely, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Then he is in now?"</p> + +<p>"Go up to the sixth floor—the door at the left; you'll find him in."</p> + +<p>"What a strange mortal!" thought Dodichet, as he climbed up the stairs; +"to stay at home in the evening! To be sure, if he received visits from +ladies! But that is not probable."</p> + +<p>When he reached the sixth floor, Dodichet tapped on the left-hand door, +and a voice called out:</p> + +<p>"Come in; the door is unlocked."</p> + +<p>Dodichet turned the knob, and found himself in a tiny room with a very +sloping roof. A bed without curtains, a large table used as a desk, two +chairs and a mirror, were substantially all the furniture the room +contained; and yet it seemed well furnished, because shelves were nailed +to the wall on all sides, containing, instead of books, small pasteboard +boxes, all of uniform size. There were many of them on the table too, +but those were empty; and at that moment Lucien was seated at the table, +engaged in<a name="vol_4_page_277" id="vol_4_page_277"></a> filling the boxes with long black pins, of which he had an +enormous quantity before him. By way of robe de chambre, he wore a long +flannel jacket, patched in several places, and on his head was a sort of +cap which had lost its visor. The room was but dimly lighted by a small +lamp; however, Lucien recognized his visitor at once.</p> + +<p>"Halloo, Dodichet!" he cried. "To what chance do I owe the pleasure of +seeing you at my quarters? I assure you that I wasn't expecting you!"</p> + +<p>"I am sure of that. But I am very fond of going where I am not expected. +Is this where you live?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my friend."</p> + +<p>"And there's only this one room; is this all?"</p> + +<p>"Absolutely all. It's quite enough for a single man."</p> + +<p>"Quite enough! You're not hard to suit. Where am I to sit down, pray?"</p> + +<p>"Where you please."</p> + +<p>"Where I please? But I don't see any chair."</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, I have two. Wait a moment; the other one is covered with my +clothes; I used it as a commode; I'll clear it for you."</p> + +<p>Lucien removed his clothes from the chair to the bed, then returned to +his occupation, saying to his visitor:</p> + +<p>"Now, sit down and tell me what brings you here. I must go on working, +because I am in a hurry."</p> + +<p>"Oh! don't mind me! It's infernally cramped here, all the same! What the +devil are you doing there?"</p> + +<p>"As you see, I am putting these pins in boxes. I have to arrange them +carefully and see that there's the same number in every box."</p> + +<p>"How does this business of yours come on?"</p> + +<p>"Not so badly; it rather looks as if it were going to take. I tell you, +my fortune would be made, if I had<a name="vol_4_page_278" id="vol_4_page_278"></a> been able to discover, as Rozière of +Romainville did, all that can be done with Panama!"</p> + +<p>"With Panama! why, they make straw hats with it, I thought."</p> + +<p>"But Rozière made soap with it that cleanses perfectly, and many other +things too."</p> + +<p>Having seated himself, Dodichet said:</p> + +<p>"First of all, before I tell you what brings me here, just lend me your +<i>bouffarde</i>, will you; I want to have a puff."</p> + +<p>"My <i>bouffarde</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; or your pipe, if you like that better."</p> + +<p>"But I haven't any pipe."</p> + +<p>"No pipe? you surprise me! It's less expensive than cigars. Well, then, +give me a cigar—as dry a one as you can."</p> + +<p>"I haven't any cigars either."</p> + +<p>"The devil! I seem to have caught you at low tide. In that case, pass me +your tobacco pouch and I'll make a cigarette."</p> + +<p>"I am distressed, my dear Dodichet, to be obliged to refuse you again; +but I haven't a particle of tobacco here."</p> + +<p>"No tobacco! you haven't any tobacco! That is a good one! Do you smoke +straw, then? For, of course, you must smoke something?"</p> + +<p>"Why so? as a matter of fact, I don't smoke at all. I have neither the +time nor the inclination; and, frankly, I don't see the necessity."</p> + +<p>"You don't smoke—at your age! You poor devil! you must be horribly +bored!"</p> + +<p>"That's where you are mistaken; I am never bored, for I am always at +work. Why do so many men smoke?<a name="vol_4_page_279" id="vol_4_page_279"></a> Because they have nothing to do, and +don't know how to employ their time, which seems to them murderously +long; so they smoke and imagine that they're doing something, that they +are busy. That is a wretched occupation which serves only to encourage +indolence!"</p> + +<p>"I say, Lucien, do you know that you tire me with your moral reflections +about smokers?"</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear friend, you shouldn't call me a poor devil because I +don't smoke; I just answered you, that's all; I will add that I should +apply the same term to those young men who smoke all the time, who +always have a pipe or cigar in their mouths. In the first place, they +smell detestable; secondly, they ruin their lungs; and, lastly, they +spend a great deal of money; it doesn't seem much, because it's only a +little at a time; but the smallest sum, when you keep putting it out +every minute or two, amounts to a good round sum at the end of a year. +To workingmen especially, this habit of smoking is disastrous, and it +has impoverished more than one family."</p> + +<p>"Do you expect with your sermons to cure smokers of smoking? If you do, +you're devilishly mistaken!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I have no idea of curing anybody. I simply tell you my +opinion—opinions are free."</p> + +<p>"But you see, Lucien, when you have once acquired the habit of smoking, +that's the end of it; you can't give it up."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, my dear friend, but a man can break himself of any +habit; all you need is a firm will; if you could make me believe +otherwise, it would amount to convincing me that all men are maniacs, +machines, automata which are obliged to do the same things over and over +again; and that would make me grieve for mankind! I haven't mentioned +all the fires and accidents<a name="vol_4_page_280" id="vol_4_page_280"></a> caused by the carelessness of smokers. Why, +Mademoiselle Juliette Mirotaine has a friend who had her dress all +burned on the boulevard by a match which someone had thrown on the +sidewalk without taking the trouble to step on it."</p> + +<p>"I always step on mine!—But let's drop the subject. You're sure that +you haven't so much as a pinch of tobacco in your pouch?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't a pouch even. What the devil should I do with one?"</p> + +<p>"He has no pouch! you hear him, great God, and you don't blast +him!—Well, when I leave you, I am going to see some ladies—ladies, do +you hear?—and I am very sure that they'll have some tobacco for me."</p> + +<p>"That is possible, as there are some ladies who smoke nowadays."</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear friend. Oh! you needn't shrug your shoulders! The fair sex +is for tobacco."</p> + +<p>"There are ladies and ladies!"</p> + +<p>"Well, let's drop it.—I will be brief: my dear friend, I have just done +you a very great service."</p> + +<p>"You have! how so?"</p> + +<p>"I have just come from Monsieur Mirotaine's, where I dined."</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! you make me shudder!"</p> + +<p>"Nay, rather rejoice! I had seen the wardrobe dealer, and told her that +I had a very rich count who wanted to marry and who would not ask for +any dowry."</p> + +<p>"I asked you not to play any wretched practical joke."</p> + +<p>"True; but I didn't listen to you, and it's well I didn't; for +everything went off as if it was on wheels."</p> + +<p>"Whom did you present as the man who wanted a wife?"<a name="vol_4_page_281" id="vol_4_page_281"></a></p> + +<p>"Someone who can't refuse me anything, who plays whatever part I assign +to him, because I know a certain secret. Ha! ha! ha! Poor +Miflorès-Seringat! or Seringat-Miflorès!—There's a pigeon whom +Providence placed in my hand most opportunely!"</p> + +<p>"Go on! what happened at Monsieur Mirotaine's?"</p> + +<p>"We had a fairly good dinner, except for the vin ordinaire, which was +only too plentiful, the champagne, which tasted like Rogé's purgative +lemonade, and the <i>crême à la vanille</i>, which was sweetened with +camphor. My false count didn't say a word, but confined himself to +eating; as I had said, however, that he wanted a chance to study the +young lady before he proposed, everything went well; but, after dinner, +while we were in the salon, picking up radishes and pickles which +Mirotaine had in reserve in his pocket, lo and behold! Dubotté arrived +with his wife—a pretty little blonde, on my word!—Would you believe +that Dubotté recognized my pseudo-count, and said to him: 'How are you, +Seringat? how's your good wife?'—You can imagine the sensation!—Papa +Mirotaine was furious, the wardrobe woman confused, the guests stared at +one another in amazement,—and my soi-disant marrying man took his legs +in his hand, after consigning to the devil the man who had asked him +about his wife. In the midst of all that confusion, I had great +difficulty in keeping from roaring with laughter.—Monsieur Mirotaine +questioned me; he undertook to be wrathful, but I mounted a higher horse +than he; I declared that Miflorès had fooled and deceived me, and that I +was going to demand satisfaction from him. I came away, and here I +am!—Well, what do you say to that?"</p> + +<p>"I say that you did wrong to play this farce, and I am afraid that it +will do me more harm than good."<a name="vol_4_page_282" id="vol_4_page_282"></a></p> + +<p>"Why, no, it won't; the old miser, disgusted with the idea of +prospective husbands he doesn't know, will refuse to receive any more of +them, and will consent to give you his daughter."</p> + +<p>"I have no hope that things will turn out so."</p> + +<p>"You're an ungrateful wretch!—Try to oblige your friends, and this is +the reward you get! And he can't even give me a bit of tobacco!"</p> + +<p>"You intended to be useful to me, my dear Dodichet, and I thank you for +it; but, I say again, I am not at all at ease as to the results of your +ill-timed jest."</p> + +<p>"If you smoked, you wouldn't be so timid! Adieu, virtuous man, prudent +man, indefatigable worker! Adieu, O most extraordinary man—who doesn't +smoke! You are not of your epoch!"</p> + +<p>"That may be! but I am perfectly sure that a time will come when +Frenchmen will have become courteous and refined once more, and will be +unable to understand how their ancestors could have smoked so much!"</p> + +<p>"Adieu! I fly now in quest of my treasurer; I must see him, for the +waters are low, and I want to buy a gorgeous costume for my début in the +rôle of Joconde."</p> + +<p>"At the Opéra-Comique?"</p> + +<p>"No; at Quimper-Corentin."</p> + +<p>Lucien returned to his boxes of pins, reflecting upon all that Dodichet +had told him.</p> + +<p>"As a matter of prudence," he thought, "I shall do well to wait a few +days before appearing at Monsieur Mirotaine's; he must be very angry at +having been made a dupe; I will give his anger time to subside; I will +wait until he has partly forgotten to-day's occurrences, so that he +cannot guess that I know anything about them."<a name="vol_4_page_283" id="vol_4_page_283"></a></p> + +<p>But during the week that passed before Lucien went to Mirotaine's, +Dubotté had entertained young Callé at dinner, and, as we have seen, had +told his guest why Dodichet had conceived the idea of bringing forward a +husband for Mademoiselle Juliette; that it was in the hope of serving +his friend Lucien's interests. Young Callé, who was a great gossip, like +most people who have nothing to do, did not fail to repeat to Aldegonde +all that he had learned at Dubotté's, and the stepmother repeated it to +her husband; whereupon the latter made a scene with his daughter.</p> + +<p>"You were in collusion with those wretches," he cried, "those +blackguards who cheated me out of a dinner! it was your Lucien who urged +them to play that joke on me, of which the assize court would take +cognizance! When I see him, I'll tell him what I think of him."</p> + +<p>It was of no use for Juliette to protest, to swear that she knew nothing +about it, and that Lucien was incapable of devising the malicious scheme +which they had presumed to carry out—Monsieur Mirotaine was convinced +of the contrary; and when, two days later, poor Lucien appeared before +his love's father, humble and smiling, and inquired for his health, +Monsieur Mirotaine flew into a rage and pushed him toward the door, +crying:</p> + +<p>"My health! You have the insolence to come to inquire for my health, +after making a fool of me to such a point that it made me ill! You are +very bold to show your face before me again!"</p> + +<p>"Why, monsieur," stammered Lucien, in dire dismay, "what have I done +that you should treat me like this?"</p> + +<p>"What have you done? He pretends not to know! But you can't fool me, +monsieur!—Think of the dinner I was forced to give—a dinner of eleven +covers! three<a name="vol_4_page_284" id="vol_4_page_284"></a> courses! and my old claret! And that Italian count—who +was only an apothecary—whom Dodichet introduced as a millionaire in +search of a wife—when he already had one at Pontoise! And the coffee +and liqueurs! Your friend Dodichet helped himself to cognac three times! +Can you deny that he's your friend, and that he invented that abominable +farce in the hope of helping on your love for my daughter?"</p> + +<p>"If Dodichet did that to do me a service, I swear to you on my honor, +monsieur, that it was done against my will; that I expressly forbade him +to attempt the slightest liberty with you!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! tell that to the marines, monsieur! you admit that this Dodichet is +a friend of yours, and that's enough to justify me in forbidding you to +set your foot inside my doors again."</p> + +<p>"But my intentions are absolutely pure, monsieur; as you know, my +pin-making enterprise opens very well; I hope to be able to extend it +very materially."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes! you'll have your excellent friends praise it and brag about +it! But I will not be your dupe any more. Go! and don't think of showing +yourself here again; you won't be admitted!"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Mirotaine pushed the young man into the porch, and closed the +door violently upon him. Whereupon Lucien walked slowly away, murmuring:</p> + +<p>"I shan't see Juliette again; I cannot even exchange a word or two with +her any more. Ah! Dodichet! what a pitiable service you have done me!"<a name="vol_4_page_285" id="vol_4_page_285"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="XIV-ls" id="XIV-ls"></a>XIV<br /><br /> +<small>DODICHET, TENOR</small></h2> + +<p>On leaving Lucien, Dodichet first of all purchased some tobacco, then +called at Mademoiselle Boulotte's, where Rosa had agreed to be; for +those damsels were informed of the scene which was to be played at +Monsieur Mirotaine's, and, as they were very curious to know how it had +gone off, Dodichet had promised to call and tell them about it the same +night.</p> + +<p>The two <i>figurantes</i> were smoking, and drinking grog; and Boulotte's +room, although much larger than Lucien's, was so filled with smoke that +one could hardly see across it. Which fact did not prevent Dodichet from +exclaiming in admiration at the picture before his eyes:</p> + +<p>"Bravo! bravi! This brings me back to life! I have just left a man who +is not a man—he doesn't smoke! But here, on the contrary, I find women +who are equal to any trooper; this sets me up again!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! here's Dodichet! Good-evening, Dodichet!"</p> + +<p>"Good-evening, my young fairies of the wings! have you any cigarette +papers?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! what a question! We would as soon be without bread!"</p> + +<p>"True! my question was unnecessary. Your education is complete. Give me +a few. What are you drinking there?"</p> + +<p>"Grog at three-six——"<a name="vol_4_page_286" id="vol_4_page_286"></a></p> + +<p>"I will take several glasses. Be good enough to mix me one, Rosa, while +Boulotte, who has the knack of rolling cigarettes, rolls eight or ten +for me. Ah! mesdemoiselles, I am thirsty for a smoke!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't see that you've anything to do but open your mouth; +there's no lack of smoke here."</p> + +<p>"You do not understand me, my gay young Andalusian; I mean that I am +athirst to smoke, myself, and I have just been calling on a man who +never smokes!"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! where was that bird raised?"</p> + +<p>"He never goes out, he stays at home all the time; he is in love, he +thinks of his charmer—that takes the place of a pipe."</p> + +<p>"Has his charmer been well seasoned?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't ask him."</p> + +<p>"Well! tell us about the scene with the would-be husband at Monsieur +Mirotaine's, the marriage <i>à la</i> Putiphar."</p> + +<p>"Everything went off perfectly; but in the evening, a friend of mine, +Phœbus Dubotté—I call him Phœbus because he's fair-haired and +conceited—Phœbus arrived with his wife. It happens that he knows the +individual whom I had introduced as an Italian count."</p> + +<p>"The man who lends you money because you know a secret that concerns +him, and in whose presence we mustn't mention Pontoise?"</p> + +<p>"The same; Boulotte, you have a memory like a creditor. But Phœbus +mentioned Pontoise, and called my friend Miflorès by his true name. You +can guess the effect produced by that recognition!—Pass me a +cigarette.—The Mirotaines are furious, Putiphar would like an +opportunity to horsewhip me. My false count<a name="vol_4_page_287" id="vol_4_page_287"></a> ran away, and I took my +leave, declaring that I proposed to run my sword through him somewhere. +The dénouement of our comedy was hurried a little; but it had to come to +an end some time, and I was beginning to be rather tired of the +Mirotaine circle. Still, there were some excellent types there. A +certain Monsieur Brid'oison, who looked on in admiration while his son +performed gymnastic feats on everybody's shoulders; his wife ate her +hair, and a sister of the host wept all the while because a pickled +onion hit her in the eye."</p> + +<p>"And the dinner—was that good?"</p> + +<p>"A miser's dinner. Wretched wines! no truffles! a <i>crême au camphre!</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>Au camphre?</i>"</p> + +<p>"With camphor instead of sugar; I don't advise you to try it; it isn't a +satisfactory substitute. However, we did the trick; and I have just been +to see Lucien, to tell him how I have helped on his love affair."</p> + +<p>"Did he thank you?"</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, he scolded me, and preached me a sermon on +tobacco!—Pass me a cigarette.—Now, I must find my Miflorès, for I need +money. I have seen a dramatic correspondent, and he tells me that I am +wanted at Quimper-Corentin, where they require a tenor <i>jeune premier</i>. +I am young; I have an attractive countenance and a good enough voice! I +can reach high <i>G!</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>G!</i> but that isn't <i>C!</i>"</p> + +<p>"I am perfectly well aware, Mademoiselle Rosa, that <i>G</i> is not <i>C</i>, or +rather <i>do</i>, to speak more elegantly; but a chest <i>G</i> is very neat, all +the same; and, besides, if the audience isn't satisfied, I'll say: +<i>zut!</i> [you be hanged!] and they will be."<a name="vol_4_page_288" id="vol_4_page_288"></a></p> + +<p>"In what rôle are you going to make your first appearance?"</p> + +<p>"In <i>Joconde</i>. I sing: <i>J'ai longtemps parcouru le monde!</i> as if I'd +never done anything else."</p> + +<p>"So they play comic opera at Quimper-Corentin, do they?"</p> + +<p>"Why, my dear Rosa, where have you been? Don't you know that since the +theatres were enfranchised they play all kinds everywhere? I have seen +<i>Tartuffe</i> in a barn, and <i>La Bataille de Pultava</i> in a bedroom; the +Russians hid behind a night commode, and the Swedes carried a chamber +vessel with the bayonet. So there is nothing strange in their playing +comic opera at Quimper. There's only one thing that makes me hesitate: +the correspondent warned me that the manager doesn't furnish the +costumes; and as I don't want to play Joconde in a frock-coat or an +overcoat, I must buy a costume. I want it to be dazzling, gorgeous! +That's why I need money, and I must find Miflorès."</p> + +<p>"But I thought you were expecting a legacy from an old aunt?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I still have that legacy in prospect; and that's the last! But the +old aunt persists in living. That's why I must see Miflorès."</p> + +<p>"But by what spell do you succeed in making that man lend you money so +often?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! that is my secret!"</p> + +<p>"But you'll tell us your secret, Dodichet, won't you? You'll confide it +to us?"</p> + +<p>"I will tell it to you, mesdemoiselles, when I no longer need to borrow +money of Miflorès; when I have inherited from my aunt."</p> + +<p>"Oh! do tell us your secret, dear old Dodichet! We'll be very +close-mouthed."<a name="vol_4_page_289" id="vol_4_page_289"></a></p> + +<p>"I do not doubt your discretion, mesdemoiselles! That's why I won't tell +you anything more."</p> + +<p>Dodichet drank three grogs, smoked five cigarettes, then went home, +humming:</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"'Mais on revient toujours</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .6em;">A ses premières amours!'"</span></td></tr> +</table> + +<p>The next morning, quite early, Dodichet went to the hotel where the +mysterious apothecary lived. He found him packing his trunks and +preparing to move.</p> + +<p>"What does this mean?" cried Dodichet; "why these preparations for going +away?"</p> + +<p>"Because I am leaving this house."</p> + +<p>"Why, pray?"</p> + +<p>"Because I'm afraid I shall be found here. There's your friend, that +stout man, who presumed to call me Seringat last night before a whole +roomful! I am very angry, monsieur! It was a mean trick that you played +on me, to take me to a house where I might meet a man who knew me at +Pontoise! I don't propose to lend you money so that you can treat me in +such a way as that!"</p> + +<p>"Allow me to observe, my dear friend, that at this moment you are +talking like a goose! And I will prove to you in a few words that you +have no common sense. I borrow money of you—which I will return, by the +way, when I inherit from my aunt, you may be sure."</p> + +<p>"Very well; I don't care about that; I'm in no hurry."</p> + +<p>"Now, my reason for having recourse to your purse of late is that I am +rather short, that I need your help. You lend me money, not to oblige +me, I know that perfectly well, but because you're afraid that I will +divulge what you are so anxious to conceal."<a name="vol_4_page_290" id="vol_4_page_290"></a></p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur; that's the only reason—it's not from friendship at +all."</p> + +<p>"Thanks; I appreciate that token of affection! But if I brought you face +to face with someone who had known you at Pontoise, that is to say, who +might disclose—what concerns you, why, it would be all over; you +wouldn't lend me any more money, because everything would be known!—So +you see that it is altogether against my interest that anyone should +recognize you. This Dubotté came to Mirotaine's—a most miraculous +thing; for he had always refused to go there, because they give their +guests cocoa for refreshments—he said so himself in my presence. So it +was simply an unlucky chance that he came there last night. Moreover, I +had no idea that Dubotté had ever known you at Pontoise; but luckily it +was before your—your event; he knows nothing about that."</p> + +<p>"My word! if he'd mentioned that, I should have done some crazy thing!"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you'd have done; but you see that I could not have +anticipated that meeting. Come, my little Seringat, you're not angry +with me any more, are you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! don't call me Seringat—I don't want to be Seringat again!"</p> + +<p>"To be sure—you are Miflorès. All right! My dear friend, I shall be +obliged to resort to your purse once more. I am going to make my début +at the Quimper-Corentin theatre, in <i>Joconde</i>, nothing less! And I must +have a costume for the rôle, a rich and elegant costume; Joconde is +Count Robert's friend, you know?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't know that play."<a name="vol_4_page_291" id="vol_4_page_291"></a></p> + +<p>"I will reply in the words of Monsieur Prudhomme, in <i>La Famille +Improvisée</i>: 'You would be wrong if you could.'—How much do I owe you +now?"</p> + +<p>"Two thousand francs, which I have lent you at four different times."</p> + +<p>"That's right—five hundred francs each time; well, lend me a thousand +at once to-day. Then I shall owe you three thousand. But my old aunt +can't last much longer; and then, too, I am going to make a great +success on the stage, and tenors are paid fabulous prices now! I can +easily pay you three thousand francs, when I am earning fifty thousand a +year."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Seringat took his wallet from his pocket and took from it a +thousand-franc note, which he handed to Dodichet, saying:</p> + +<p>"This is for keeping my secret!"</p> + +<p>"Thanks, my dear friend; you have unpleasant moments, but some very +agreeable quarter-hours. Will you come to Quimper to see my début?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't want to leave Paris; one can lose one's self better here, +in the crowd. I have discovered a small hotel, at the rear of a +courtyard, at the farther end of Rue Saint-Jacques, and I am going to +take refuge there."</p> + +<p>"Very good; but as it is essential that I should always be able to find +you, if only to repay what I owe you, I think I will accompany you to +your small hotel at the rear of a courtyard—for it must be rather hard +to find, courtyards ordinarily being behind the hotel. Then I will bid +you farewell, and start for Bretagne to gather laurels and yellow-boys."</p> + +<p>A cab was waiting at the door; the luggage was placed on top, Dodichet +took his place inside, with Seringat, and did not leave him until he had +seen him established in an<a name="vol_4_page_292" id="vol_4_page_292"></a> old house on Rue Saint-Jacques, which +resembled a hotel about as much as Suresnes wine resembles Chambertin.</p> + +<p>Dodichet's first care was to lay in a stock of tobacco, pipes, cigars, +and cigarette papers. After that, he turned his attention to his costume +for the rôle of Joconde. He spent three hundred francs, but he had a +gorgeous costume, which was almost new. On returning home, he tried it +on, and deemed himself so handsome in it that he sent his concierge to +tell Boulotte to come to see him as Joconde.</p> + +<p>Mademoiselle Boulotte came, and uttered an admiring exclamation at sight +of Dodichet in tight, white silk pantaloons, slashed with violet velvet, +a tunic of velvet of the same color, a lace ruff, a velvet cap +surmounted by a fine white feather, a gilt belt, and yellow turn-over +top-boots. She insisted that he should go in that guise and take a glass +of beer with her; but he dared not take the risk of going to a café, +because it was not Carnival time. The best he could do was to send out +for a dinner to the nearest restaurant, and dine with his young friend +in his new costume.</p> + +<p>Mademoiselle Boulotte was enchanted, and fancied that she was dining +with a foreign nobleman. They ate and laughed, and drank freely. +Dodichet sang snatches of his part between the courses; his voice had a +fair range, but it had been made hoarse by the excessive use of tobacco.</p> + +<p>"My dear boy," said Boulotte, "you mustn't smoke on the day of your +début; no, nor on the day before, either."</p> + +<p>"Pshaw! pshaw! I'm a little hoarse this evening; but if you swallow the +yolk of an egg raw, your voice becomes clear again, as if by magic. +Meanwhile, let's drink and smoke! I don't act to-morrow."<a name="vol_4_page_293" id="vol_4_page_293"></a></p> + +<p>They smoked and drank so much that Joconde ended by rolling on the floor +in his fine costume, which he found spotted and rumpled and torn the +next morning. He was obliged to buy another pair of silk trousers; then +he lost no time in taking the train for Bretagne, without trying on his +costume again.</p> + +<p>Arrived at Quimper-Corentin, Dodichet started off at once to find the +manager of the theatre. As he had a large supply of self-assurance and +cheek, he assumed the airs of one of the most talented performers of the +age, and the manager was taken in by his manner of the man accustomed to +winning triumphs. To make himself thoroughly agreeable to the manager +and to his future comrades, Dodichet invited them all to dine at the +best hotel in the town. At the table, he announced that they must not +spare the claret or the champagne. The local artists were not accustomed +to such treatment, and the manager himself, amazed to see a tenor who +was apparently wallowing in gold, was persuaded that he had placed his +hand on an Elleviou or a Tamberlick.</p> + +<p>That same evening, the posters announced the early début of a young +tenor who had already appeared with great success at the leading +theatres of Russia, Germany, and Italy. As a measure of precaution, +Dodichet did not include France. As his name was not very pleasant to +the ear, and seemed better fitted to a comic actor than a real virtuoso, +he caused himself to be announced as Signor Rouladini, which name seemed +to promise an Italian artist.</p> + +<p>"How many rehearsals do you want?" the manager asked his new recruit; +who replied, with the assurance which never deserted him:</p> + +<p>"One will be enough. I know the piece by heart, and at a pinch I could +play all the parts."<a name="vol_4_page_294" id="vol_4_page_294"></a></p> + +<p>But, at the rehearsal, il Signor Rouladini, who claimed to know the play +by heart, did not know even his own lines, and repeatedly turned to the +prompter.</p> + +<p>"I have forgotten it a little, because I knew it too well," he said. +"But to-morrow, before the audience, I shan't miss a word."</p> + +<p>"You are still very hoarse," said the manager; "would you prefer to have +your début postponed a day or two?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed! for my voice will be just the same later; but on the day of +my début, I will swallow the yolks of two or three eggs raw, and my +voice will be clear and sweet. Don't you worry at all!"</p> + +<p>The manager did not seem to be altogether reassured, but all the artists +to whom Dodichet had given a dinner declared that he must have a very +sweet voice when he was not hoarse. The leading lady advised him not to +smoke till after his début. But Dodichet laughed in her face, and +offered to bet that he would smoke on the stage while she was singing; +the manager formally forbade his débutant to make that experiment, and +warned him that the audiences in that town were not very patient.</p> + +<p>"That's because you don't know how to take them," was the reply; "I defy +them to show a bad temper with me!"</p> + +<p>The day of the début arrived. In the morning there was another +rehearsal. Dodichet knew his part no better, and constantly appealed to +the prompter, an obstinate old supernumerary, who insisted that the +débutant was deaf. The voice was somewhat improved, thanks to the yolks +of eggs; but on leaving the rehearsal, Dodichet, in order to tighten up +his nerves, drank punch and treated all his comrades except the +prompter, with whom he was<a name="vol_4_page_295" id="vol_4_page_295"></a> angry; and therein he made a capital +mistake: an actor should take as much pains to stand well with his +prompter as a tenant with his concierge.</p> + +<p>At dinner, Dodichet thought it best to get slightly tipsy, so that he +would not be frightened when he faced the audience. Then he smoked, +coughed, spat, and tried his voice: the punch had entirely destroyed the +effect of the eggs, and his voice was almost inaudible. He sent out for +eggs, and ate several more raw while he was dressing, so that he was +horribly sick at his stomach when he went on the stage.</p> + +<p>The sight of the crowded theatre greatly disturbed the débutant; he did +not know where he was, and spying in a proscenium box a man with whom he +had played dominoes the night before, he bowed and took off his cap to +him. Luckily, the audience took the salute for itself. The actor who was +on the stage with Dodichet motioned to him that it was his turn to +speak, but he had not the faintest idea what he was to say; so he turned +to the prompter and said in an undertone:</p> + +<p>"My cue! my cue!"</p> + +<p>"I just gave it to you," retorted the prompter, with the utmost +coolness.</p> + +<p>The audience began to murmur. The actor who was playing Count Robert +came to his comrade's assistance once more; he skipped part of the scene +to the prelude to Joconde's famous air: <i>J'ai longtemps parcouru le +monde</i>. Thereupon there was profound silence in the hall; for everybody +was curious to hear the voice of the individual who acted so wretchedly, +and they were beginning to say to one another:</p> + +<p>"That's your Italian singer all over! The dialogue is nothing to him, +and the music everything."<a name="vol_4_page_296" id="vol_4_page_296"></a></p> + +<p>But on that occasion the music proved to be much worse than the +dialogue. The combination of eggs, punch, wine, and tobacco had given +the débutant such a peculiar voice that, when he attempted to sing, he +emitted a sort of unearthly sound which reminded one of a tea kettle, a +duck, and a serpent all at once.</p> + +<p>The pit roared with laughter at first. But Dodichet coughed, spat, and +tried to smile at the audience, saying:</p> + +<p>"This is nothing! it's a cat [hoarseness]!"</p> + +<p>Then he began again:</p> + +<p class="c">"'J'ai longtemps parcouru le monde!'"</p> + +<p>"Go and do it again!" cried a voice from the pit.</p> + +<p>Dodichet began to cough again, then spat at the prompter, who stuck his +head out of his box, and shouted:</p> + +<p>"Look out what you're doing!"</p> + +<p>Once more the débutant began his air:</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"'J'ai longtemps parcouru le monde;</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .6em;">Et l'on m'a vu, et l'on m'a vu!——'"<a name="FNanchor_R_18" id="FNanchor_R_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_R_18" class="fnanchor">[R]</a></span></td></tr> +</table> + +<p>A storm of hisses arose; this time the audience thought that he meant to +mock at them, and on all sides there were shouts of:</p> + +<p>"Down with him! put him out!"</p> + +<p>Dodichet tried to go on:</p> + +<p class="c">"'Et l'on m'a vu, et l'on m'a vu!'"</p> + +<p>"We've seen quite enough of you!" cried the pit in chorus. "Off you +go!"<a name="vol_4_page_297" id="vol_4_page_297"></a></p> + +<p>Dodichet pretended not to hear, and insisted on continuing his air; but +the audience made a terrible uproar, and some young men in the pit threw +raw potatoes and copper sous at the débutant.</p> + +<p>"Ah! this is the way you treat me, is it?" he cried; "well, you're a +pack of brazen-faced hounds!"</p> + +<p>And with that, he turned his back on the audience, made a most +contemptuous gesture, and rushed into the wings. But the gesture he had +indulged in and the words he had uttered excited the wrath of the +spectators to the highest pitch; they jumped down among the musicians, +climbed upon the stage, and scoured it in all directions.</p> + +<p>"We'll teach the fellow to show such disrespect to the public," they +said; "it's a hiding, not hisses, that Signor Rouladini needs."</p> + +<p>And the prompter in his hole rubbed his hands in glee.</p> + +<p>The manager tried in vain to pacify the audience; they would not listen +to him. But Dodichet's comrades, seeing that the matter was becoming +serious, hustled him out of the theatre by a side door, with a +policeman's cloak over his shoulders and a fireman's helmet on his head.</p> + +<p>"Leave the town at once," they said to him. "Don't go back to your +hotel, for you won't be safe there. Hurry to the station, and skip! the +Bretons don't understand a joke; they might do you a serious injury."</p> + +<p>Bewildered by what had happened to him, Dodichet found himself in the +street with no clear idea how he had got there. Luckily for him, he +invariably carried his purse in his belt, so that he would always be +able to take something. He soon decided what course to take. Wrapping +himself in the cloak they had thrown over his shoulders, and fixing the +fireman's helmet firmly on his head, he made for the railway station.<a name="vol_4_page_298" id="vol_4_page_298"></a></p> + +<p>"The provinces are not enlightened enough to appreciate me," he said to +himself; "I will return to Paris. I have two hundred francs in my purse +still, and with that I can await events."</p> + +<p>He jumped into a carriage in which there were three women. His strange +costume frightened them, and they started to change carriages; but +Dodichet reassured them by saying that he had just left a fancy-dress +ball, and that he had retained his disguise on a wager. But, at the +first stop, he purchased other clothes, not daring to return to Paris as +Joconde, a policeman, and a fireman all in one.</p> + +<p>This change of costume was expensive, and when he arrived in Paris +Dodichet had but one hundred francs left of the thousand Seringat had +lent him. But, on the very day of his return, he received a letter from +Troyes in an envelope with a black border.</p> + +<p>"My poor aunt is dead!" he said to himself; "faith! I'll not play the +hypocrite so far as to weep for her. Her money arrives in the nick of +time. I will pay Seringat, I will buy a cashmere shawl for Boulotte, and +I will weave days of gold, truffles, and champagne; for the dear aunt +was rich. She must have left me more than a hundred thousand francs!"</p> + +<p>Dodichet broke the seal; the letter did, in fact, announce the death of +his aunt, who had left her whole fortune to a third or fourth cousin, as +she did not choose that it should go to her scapegrace of a nephew, who +had made such a wretched use of the money his other relations had left +him.</p> + +<p>Dodichet did not expect to be disinherited; he angrily crumpled the +notary's letter which told him the news; and for the first time his +reflections were not rose-colored.<a name="vol_4_page_299" id="vol_4_page_299"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="XV-ls" id="XV-ls"></a>XV<br /><br /> +<small>A RASCALLY BROTHER-IN-LAW</small></h2> + +<p>After his quarrel with Nathalie, Adhémar sought distraction and pleasure +to no purpose; go where he would, he found neither. When one loves +truly, it is a very painful thing to cease to see her whose presence had +a never-failing charm; one tries in vain to put a brave face upon it, +and to tell one's self that a lost love is readily replaced by another; +in reality, we cannot tear a beloved image from our hearts so easily; we +are conscious of an aching void, a brooding melancholy which follows us +everywhere; and we prefer the memories of the past for which we sigh to +all the pleasures that the present has to offer us.</p> + +<p>Adhémar was unhappy, and dissatisfied with himself; and yet he strove to +convince himself that he was justified in breaking off that intimacy +which had so much charm for him.</p> + +<p>"I loved her," he would say to himself; "I loved her sincerely, but she +did not love me, for she deceived me. That pipe case did not belong to +any woman. So that she received visits from men without telling me! and +when one's mistress once has mysteries of that sort in her life, +everyone knows what it means. And that smell of tobacco, which I had +noticed before! That smoker must have come often to see her! Ah! +Nathalie, Nathalie! you who were the woman I had dreamed of—to be loved +by whom would have made me so happy! But, no,<a name="vol_4_page_300" id="vol_4_page_300"></a> women cannot be faithful; +why should she have acted differently from the others?"</p> + +<p>On a certain day, when the young author was walking along the street in +gloomy mood, thinking such thoughts as these, he suddenly found himself +face to face with Lucien, who, also, was sighing dolorously.</p> + +<p>"Ah! Lucien!"</p> + +<p>"Adhémar!"</p> + +<p>"Where are you going, my dear Lucien?"</p> + +<p>"I am going—upon my word! I don't know where I am going. I am walking +about at random—I am so unhappy! so desperate!"</p> + +<p>"Really? Come, tell me your troubles, my poor Lucien. I am none too +cheerful myself, by the way. So we will share our sorrows; that always +helps a little. Hasn't your invention, your little business enterprise, +succeeded?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, it is going on very well, and that is just the reason I am in +such despair."</p> + +<p>"I don't understand you."</p> + +<p>"As my business seemed to be prospering, I thought I might hope that +Juliette's hand would be given to me at last. But, instead of that, +Monsieur Mirotaine has turned me out of his house and forbidden me ever +to go there again, all because Dodichet conceived the unfortunate idea +of helping along my suit by introducing to the Mirotaines a pretended +millionaire Italian count, who was to propose for Juliette; they got +themselves invited to dinner, and Monsieur Mirotaine went to some +expense to entertain them. Then Dubotté arrived and laid bare the fraud. +Monsieur Mirotaine saw that they had made a fool of him, and he is +convinced that I was in the plot with Dodichet; hence his anger against +me, and the prohibition to go to his house again!"<a name="vol_4_page_301" id="vol_4_page_301"></a></p> + +<p>"What a devil of a fellow that Dodichet is! I remember perfectly that +you definitely forbade him to play one of his wretched jokes on this +Mirotaine."</p> + +<p>"He meant to do me a service, so I can't be angry with him. And yet, he +is the cause of my being turned out of the house."</p> + +<p>"That old miser's anger will cool down, if you succeed in your +undertakings. His daughter will make him listen to reason."</p> + +<p>"But meanwhile I can't see her, or have any understanding with her. When +I was admitted to her father's house, we found ways of exchanging a word +or two in secret. But now that I can never see her, how am I to let her +know anything about me? Why, to be unable to see, even for a single +minute, the woman one loves, is the cruelest kind of torture, Adhémar, I +tell you!"</p> + +<p>"To whom are you saying that?"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say that you can't see the woman you love?"</p> + +<p>"In other words, the woman I loved did not love me! or she deceived me, +which amounts to the same thing. So I ceased to see her; and yet, I know +perfectly well that I love her still."</p> + +<p>"Are you quite sure that she deceived you?"</p> + +<p>"Quite sure; as sure as a man can be when he sees that a woman has +secrets from him. Tell me, Lucien, suppose you should learn that your +Juliette received visits, of which she never breathed a word to you; +wouldn't you think that she had some intrigue on hand? I assume, of +course, that she is living in her own apartment and is mistress of her +actions."</p> + +<p>"If Juliette was her own mistress and lived in the most modest little +room imaginable, it would be of no use for<a name="vol_4_page_302" id="vol_4_page_302"></a> anyone to say to me: 'She +receives other men than you;' I would not suspect her for an instant!"</p> + +<p>"Sapristi! what confidence! And suppose you had proof that she received +men secretly?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I should consider that she must have some reason for concealing +those visits from me; for she certainly has none for telling me, for +swearing to me that she loves me, if she doesn't love me. When I enter +the room where she is, doesn't she always receive me with the sweetest +smile? can I not read in her eyes all the pleasure that my presence +affords her? Ah! not until she ceased to be the same to me, should I +have the slightest fear that she no longer loved me!"</p> + +<p>"You have a happy disposition, and no mistake! You are not jealous, are +you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! not at all!"</p> + +<p>"Tell me, do you know Madame Dermont? She is a friend of Mademoiselle +Juliette, I believe?"</p> + +<p>"Madame Dermont? Yes; I met her several times at Juliette's before +Monsieur Mirotaine had forbidden me to talk with his daughter. She's a +most attractive woman. Juliette has no better friend. They tell each +other their joys and their sorrows, and neither of them has any secrets +from the other. She knows that Juliette loves me; and if she could do +anything to help us, she would ask nothing better. But she hasn't the +power, poor woman! She has had a heap of trouble of her own."</p> + +<p>"Who? Nathalie?—I mean Madame Dermont. What trouble? She never +mentioned it to me."</p> + +<p>"Do you know her, then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a little. I go to her house sometimes. But this trouble of hers? +Tell me about it, I beg you, dear old Lucien!"<a name="vol_4_page_303" id="vol_4_page_303"></a></p> + +<p>"I heard about it from Juliette, to whom, as I just told you, Madame +Dermont confides all her sorrows."</p> + +<p>"But these troubles of hers? these troubles? for God's sake, come to the +point!"</p> + +<p>Lucien looked at Adhémar with a smile, as he replied:</p> + +<p>"How deeply interested you seem to be in anything that concerns that +young woman! Can it be, by any chance——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I love her, I adore her, I am mad over her! And these +troubles?—in pity's name, my friend, tell me all you know!"</p> + +<p>"Madame Dermont, as you know, is a widow; but her husband had a +brother,—a sad scamp, by the way,—who would never do anything but +drink, gamble, smoke, and haunt low resorts. When Monsieur Dermont died, +Alexandre—that was the brother's name—Alexandre was frantic with rage +when he found that he was not his heir, but that the whole +fortune—rather a modest one, by the way—which his brother had left +went to the widow. He called on his sister-in-law, made an unpleasant +scene, and went so far as to threaten her; but she has a clear head and +a strong character, and she turned him out of the house. Thereupon, +Alexandre saw that he had gone to work in the wrong way, and that he +would not obtain anything from Madame Dermont by threats; so he called +on her again, and that time he did not play the swashbuckler, but wept +and whined over his sad plight. The young widow did not turn him out +again, but gave him five hundred francs and advised him to enlist; that +was the only profession in which he could hope to make anything of +himself. Alexandre promised to follow that advice; but, after a few +months, he came back to his sister-in-law and told her he was dying of +hunger, that<a name="vol_4_page_304" id="vol_4_page_304"></a> he had eaten nothing since the day before; and he smelt +horribly of brandy and tobacco!"</p> + +<p>"And tobacco? He smoked, did he? Ah! now I understand. Poor woman! But +why didn't she tell me all this?"</p> + +<p>"Why? Because it is a painful thing to say that a man who is closely +allied to you, who bears your name,—for Alexandre's name is +Dermont,—in fact, you don't like to confess that such a ne'er-do-well, +such a blackguard, is your brother, or that he has, at all events, the +right to call you his sister."</p> + +<p>"And the wretch has come again to torment Nathalie, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! yes; she doesn't know how to get rid of him! And yet, it is +very hard to continue giving money away when it serves only to encourage +vice and debauchery."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I'll rid her of her miserable brother-in-law! Dear Nathalie! But +why didn't she confide in me? No matter! I am a wretch; I am unworthy to +be loved by such a sweet, dear woman!—Lucien, give me your hand. Ah! my +friend, if you knew how much good you have done me! You have brought me +back to life, to happiness, to love—that is to say, to her! Adieu, +Lucien, adieu! I hasten—I fly to beg for forgiveness. She will grant +it, won't she? she will grant it?"</p> + +<p>Without waiting for a reply, Adhémar walked hurriedly away in the +direction of Madame Dermont's; but when he drew near, and could see the +house in which she lived, he slackened his pace; he began to wonder how +she, whom he had left so cavalierly in consequence of his unjust +suspicions, would receive him. And when he reached the door, he stopped; +he dared not go in, but<a name="vol_4_page_305" id="vol_4_page_305"></a> cudgelled his brain to find some pretext, some +excuse, for calling.</p> + +<p>He had been standing for some minutes, irresolute, before the porte +cochère, when he was abruptly pushed aside by a person who said to him +in a hoarse voice as he entered the house:</p> + +<p>"Stand aside there! Don't you see that you're blocking up the door?"</p> + +<p>The speaker was a man of about thirty, very carelessly dressed, whose +hat was dented in several places; his face was prematurely old and +bloated, his manner was vulgar and impertinent, he was saturated with +tobacco, and seemed to be slightly tipsy.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going, monsieur?" the concierge called to him as he +passed through the porte cochère and started for the staircase, while +Adhémar, who was on the point of calling him to account for the +discourteous way in which he had pushed him aside, waited to hear his +reply.</p> + +<p>"Where am I going? Sacrebleu! you know well enough; this ain't the first +time I've been here! I'm going up to my sister's—Madame Dermont."</p> + +<p>"Madame Dermont is out, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"You always say the same thing; and you know that I go up, all the +same."</p> + +<p>"I have been expressly forbidden to let you go up, monsieur, and this +time you shan't go!"</p> + +<p>"I shan't go up! is that all, old dormouse? Just think of that! Madame +Dermont won't receive me! But I am Alexandre Dermont, her husband's +brother, and she has no right to close her door to me; and I'm going up, +all the same, and you can go hang, concierge! And my sister-in-law will +have to receive me, because—because——"<a name="vol_4_page_306" id="vol_4_page_306"></a></p> + +<p>Monsieur Alexandre did not finish his sentence, because someone stood +before him, barring his passage, and forced him back, looking him +steadily in the eye.</p> + +<p>"Well, well!" he muttered; "what does this fellow want?—Let me pass, I +say!"</p> + +<p>"I want you—yes, you, Monsieur Alexandre Dermont."</p> + +<p>"I don't know you—let me go upstairs!"</p> + +<p>"You shall not go upstairs, you shall not go to your sister-in-law's, +who is perfectly justified in refusing to admit a miserable wretch, a +scoundrel of your stamp!"</p> + +<p>"What! what do you say? What business is it of yours?"</p> + +<p>"I say that you're a low-lived hound, that you call on Madame Dermont +for no other purpose than to worm money out of her, which you spend in +orgies and debauchery! And you are not ashamed to be guilty of such +conduct! Do you think that Madame Dermont's modest fortune will serve to +gratify your passions forever? No, monsieur; don't count upon it. I +forbid you—do you hear?—I forbid you to show your face at your +sister-in-law's again!"</p> + +<p>"By what right, I should like to know?"</p> + +<p>"By the right that every decent man has to protect a woman who is abused +and threatened and robbed!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! you make me tired! I propose to go up."</p> + +<p>And Monsieur Alexandre, turning half around, tried to reach the +stairway. But Adhémar overtook him, seized him by the throat, and held +him against the wall, saying:</p> + +<p>"If you make another attempt to go up those stairs, I'll smash your head +against this wall!"</p> + +<p>"You're choking me, monsieur!"</p> + +<p>"Did you hear me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but let me go!"<a name="vol_4_page_307" id="vol_4_page_307"></a></p> + +<p>"Will you swear never to come to Madame Dermont's again?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I swear; but you are murdering me! I left a pipe case at my +sister's; I came to get it."</p> + +<p>"You didn't come on any such paltry errand as that; you came to ask that +lady for more money, dastard that you are!"</p> + +<p>"You insult me, monsieur!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! you feel that you are insulted, do you? Very well! if you have the +least bit of pluck, come with me, and I'll give you satisfaction. +There's a gunsmith's close by; we can go there and get pistols, and take +a cab. Come!"</p> + +<p>"I, fight! I think I see myself! no, thanks! Let me go; I've had enough! +I swear I won't come here again."</p> + +<p>"Go, then; but if you fail to keep that oath, I swear that I won't fail +to shoot you!"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Alexandre did not stay to listen to any more; he ran away as if +he feared pursuit. Thereupon the concierge, who had armed himself with +his broom to support Adhémar if necessary, exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Ah! monsieur, how lucky it is that you happened to be here to drive +that miserable scamp away! He wouldn't listen to me—but you! Why, you +gave him such a shaking that I warrant he'll never come again. You have +done Madame Dermont a very great service, I promise you!"</p> + +<p>"Has she really gone out?"</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur, no; she hardly ever goes out lately; but those were my +orders for that rascal. You can go up, of course; she'll be glad to see +you."</p> + +<p>Adhémar went upstairs, but paused at Nathalie's door; he was intensely +excited.<a name="vol_4_page_308" id="vol_4_page_308"></a></p> + +<p>"She hardly ever goes out, so the concierge said," he thought. "Has she +been sick? Am I the cause of it? Oh! this infernal jealousy! How will +she receive me? No matter! I will see her, and die at her feet if she +doesn't forgive me."</p> + +<p>He rang with a trembling hand; the maid opened the door, and uttered a +cry of joy when she saw who it was. Servants almost always divine their +mistress's secret thoughts, and this one was very sure that Adhémar's +return would bring back joy and happiness to the house, which had been +very gloomy since he had ceased to come.</p> + +<p>"Ask Madame Dermont if she will see me," said Adhémar.</p> + +<p>The servant, with a beaming face, hurried away to her mistress, and +returned almost immediately to say that he might go in. Adhémar did not +wait for the words to be repeated. He found Nathalie holding her +embroidery frame in her hand, but not working. A glance sufficed to show +him that she was pale and changed, and that her features wore an +expression of profound melancholy. Adhémar could contain himself no +longer; he rushed forward and threw himself at Nathalie's feet; he +seized her hands and pressed them in his own, crying:</p> + +<p>"Mercy! forgive me! if you could only know how I have reproached myself! +but I will not offend again, I swear! I am cured. Oh! I have been so +unhappy ever since I saw you last!"</p> + +<p>"And what about me, monsieur? Do you think that I have not been unhappy? +Why didn't you come back sooner? What prevented you?"</p> + +<p>"Because—I didn't know—— Look you, Nathalie—I will not lie to +you—to-day I met Lucien, and I<a name="vol_4_page_309" id="vol_4_page_309"></a> learned from him that you had a +brother-in-law who smoked——"</p> + +<p>"And then you understood that I had no other intrigue. Bad boy! if you +hadn't left me so abruptly, I would have told you the whole story; but +when jealousy takes possession of you, it is impossible to make you +listen to reason."</p> + +<p>"Hereafter, my confidence in you will be absolute. You love me—you +forgive me once more, do you not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but this is the last time; for such scenes are too painful to me."</p> + +<p>At that moment they heard the servant laughing uproariously. Nathalie +rang for her and asked her the reason of that outburst of merriment.</p> + +<p>"Oh! madame, hasn't monsieur told you what he did to your scamp of a +brother-in-law? The concierge just told me. Monsieur took him by the +throat and turned him out of the house, and promised to cut him in +pieces if he ever dared to come to see you again!"</p> + +<p>"Is this true, Adhémar?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; did I do wrong?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! far from it; you have done me a very great service. It seems that I +am destined to be saved by you from all sorts of dangers! You see, +monsieur, that you did wrong to desert me!"</p> + +<p>Adhémar's only reply was to cover with kisses the hand she abandoned to +him; and the maid returned exultantly to the kitchen, crying:</p> + +<p>"What joy! The man with the quid of tobacco won't come here again!"<a name="vol_4_page_310" id="vol_4_page_310"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="XVI-ls" id="XVI-ls"></a>XVI<br /><br /> +<small>A BAIGNOIRE</small></h2> + +<p>After the evening when young Callé played bézique until midnight with +Madame Dubotté, the clinging Éléonore said to her husband:</p> + +<p>"Do you know, monsieur, that it was very wrong of you to leave me to +pass the evening alone with a young man? and that it shows the greatest +indifference on your part toward your wife? for, if I didn't love you as +I do, I might revenge myself for your neglect. You expose me to the risk +of receiving declarations of love!"</p> + +<p>"My dear love, you don't look at things from the right standpoint," +Philémon replied, caressing his mutton-chop whiskers, which threatened +to encroach upon his cheeks. "Tell me, did Callé make a declaration?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!"</p> + +<p>"You see! Deuce take it! I know with whom I leave you: that young man is +as virtuous as Voltaire's <i>Candide</i>. Do you know <i>Candide</i>?"</p> + +<p>"No, my dear."</p> + +<p>"I'll get it for you; for you're a little behindhand in literary +matters, and I propose to train you in every way. I don't choose to have +people say of my wife that she's a ninny. I won't have that, do you +hear? and you must govern yourself accordingly."</p> + +<p>"I will try, my dear."</p> + +<p>"To return to Callé: he is more or less of a simpleton. He doesn't dare +to look a woman in the face; indeed, he hardly dares to speak to one. So +you see that I can<a name="vol_4_page_311" id="vol_4_page_311"></a> safely leave you with him. If he should ever become +any woman's lover, she would have to make the first overtures!"</p> + +<p>"Do you think so, my dear?"</p> + +<p>"I am sure of it; he would never dare to declare himself, unless he got +a little help. And so, my dear love, as I know your virtue and your +affection for me, I am entirely easy in my mind. I would intrust you to +Callé, my dear, as I would to a keeper of the seraglio. Do you know what +a keeper of the seraglio is, in Turkey?"</p> + +<p>"No, my dear."</p> + +<p>"Well, he's a eunuch."</p> + +<p>"What in the world is a eunuch?"</p> + +<p>"Why, don't you know that? I'll tell you some night—when it rains. +Evidently, I have a great many things to teach you."</p> + +<p>A few days later, Philémon said to his wife one morning:</p> + +<p>"My dear love, I am going to make you very happy!—I know how much you +like the theatre, especially the Gymnase; well, I have taken a box for +you there, for to-night."</p> + +<p>"Oh! what fun! at the Gymnase! and a box! How lovely of you, dear! Tell +me what time we must start, so that I can be ready and not make you +impatient."</p> + +<p>"Oh! the play doesn't begin till half-past seven—be ready at +quarter-past, that will be early enough; he won't call for you before +then."</p> + +<p>"What did you say? call for me? Am I not to go with you?"</p> + +<p>"No; I will join you later; I have to go to an evening party given by my +chief. I can't miss that, you understand. When a man wants promotion, he +must always stand well with those above him."<a name="vol_4_page_312" id="vol_4_page_312"></a></p> + +<p>"But, in that case, as you knew you were going somewhere else, you +shouldn't have got a box for this evening."</p> + +<p>"Why not, pray? If I am enjoying myself in one place, is it any more +than fair that you should enjoy yourself, too?"</p> + +<p>"But you used always to take me with you to your chief's parties."</p> + +<p>"Yes, to the dancing parties and the musicales. But this is to be +a—serious party; we shall talk politics and discuss the best method of +dealing with the maturing obligations of a new Oriental railway; and you +can see for yourself that women would be bored to death to sit and +listen to all that. That's why there are to be no women."</p> + +<p>"With whom do you propose to send me to the play, then?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! don't worry about that; I have sent word to Callé! I saw him +yesterday, and asked him if he would like to take you to the theatre +to-night. He jumped for joy; he adores the theatre."</p> + +<p>"But you impose on that young man's good nature."</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, I make him very happy! The poor fellow, who has never +been able to have a mistress of a decent sort, is delighted to be your +escort.—'People will think I've made a conquest of her,' he'll say to +himself."</p> + +<p>"And you are willing people should think that I am that young man's +mistress?"</p> + +<p>"Why, no, indeed! no one will believe it! What I say is, that he will +imagine that people believe it. I have to dot all my <i>i</i>'s to make you +understand!"</p> + +<p>"There's one thing that I understand very well, monsieur; and that is, +that nowadays you do your utmost<a name="vol_4_page_313" id="vol_4_page_313"></a> to avoid taking me anywhere with you. +Although you think me a great fool, I beg you to believe that I can see +that perfectly well."</p> + +<p>"Oh! that's just like a woman! taking everything hind side before! A +fellow does all he can to be agreeable—buys a box at the theatre, for a +charming play, and says to himself: 'I can't take her to a—political +gathering, but I don't want her to sit mooning all alone in her chimney +corner.'—And instead of being thanked for what he has done, he is +overwhelmed with reproaches, and has to listen to the most absurd +reflections! Don't you be alarmed: it will be very hot when I buy +another box for you!"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Dubotté left the house in a very ill humor. Madame said nothing +more, but she probably thought a good deal. When evening came, she made +her toilet and took infinite pains with it. Young Callé arrived with +great promptness at the appointed time. He was in full dress, and +becurled and perfumed as if he were going to a wedding.</p> + +<p>"Here's your box," said Philémon, as he handed him the ticket; "I will +join you later, if it's possible for me to get away from my chief's +party early enough. Try to make my wife enjoy herself; that isn't very +easy, for she's not always in good humor. If you succeed in making her +amiable, you'll perform a miracle."</p> + +<p>Young Callé bowed and set off with Éléonore, who was becoming accustomed +to accept his arm. Her escort suggested taking a cab, but she refused, +as the Gymnase was not far away. On the way, Callé began a number of +sentences concerning the pleasure it afforded him to be with such a +charming person; when he could go no further, Éléonore came to his +assistance by saying:<a name="vol_4_page_314" id="vol_4_page_314"></a> "You are very good!"—and the sentence remained +unfinished.</p> + +<p>When they reached the theatre, Callé looked at the ticket and said:</p> + +<p>"It's a baignoire."</p> + +<p>"A baignoire? I don't know what that is; is it very high?"</p> + +<p>"No, on the contrary, it's low; on a level with the pit."</p> + +<p>When the box door was opened, Éléonore hesitated about going in.</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! how dark it is in there!" she exclaimed. "Is this our box?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure, madame," replied the box opener; "and it's almost opposite +the stage, as you see."</p> + +<p>"Dear me! what a strange place! Yes, we do have a good view of the +stage, that is true; but we can't be seen—it is hardly worth while to +take pains with one's dress. However, perhaps I shall get used to it. Do +you like these boxes, Monsieur Callé?"</p> + +<p>"So far as I am concerned, madame, I am always satisfied when—I have +the—the privilege——"</p> + +<p>"You are very good!"</p> + +<p>Éléonore took her seat at the front of the box, and Callé modestly +seated himself behind her. When she had looked for a moment into the +auditorium, of which she could see only a very small part, she turned +toward her escort, who returned her glance, sighed, and said nothing.</p> + +<p>"You can't see anything from where you are, Monsieur Callé, can you? Sit +here in front, beside me."</p> + +<p>"You are very kind, madame, but I am all right here; if I sat in front, +I—I should crowd you."</p> + +<p>"Not at all."</p> + +<p>"I can see the stage very well."<a name="vol_4_page_315" id="vol_4_page_315"></a></p> + +<p>"But you can't see the audience at all."</p> + +<p>"I don't care for that; what I do see is much more agreeable to me—to +look at—and when—when one is near—near madame—then one has no wish +to—one does not look elsewhere for—one——"</p> + +<p>"You are very good!"</p> + +<p>The play began, and they listened intently; there was much talk of love +in it. Éléonore seemed deeply interested in it; the young man continued +to sigh. After the first act he went out, and returned in a moment with +bonbons and <i>fruits glacés</i>, which he offered to Madame Dubotté. She +accepted them with a sweet smile. It was an excellent chance to tell her +escort that he was very good; but she contented herself with handing him +a quarter of an orange, then proceeded to stuff herself with the +sweetmeats. As a general rule, women are very fond of bonbons; a man +ought always to have his pockets full when he wishes to make himself +agreeable to them. You may vary the menu, however, by adding truffles +stewed in champagne; then your success will be even more complete.</p> + +<p>The second play began. Now and then, in order to obtain a better view, +the young man leaned forward from behind Éléonore. At such times his +head brushed against the pretty blonde's shoulders; those shoulders were +very white and her chest well developed. Her dress was cut low, and +while looking at the shoulders one could see the base of those charming +globes which, to my mind, excel in value all balloons, past, present, +and to come, even Nadar's <i>Giant</i>. With them, to be sure, you cannot +float through the air; but I opine that what we find on earth is worth +much more than anything we can find aloft. Young Callé, therefore, was +not so much of a fool as he<a name="vol_4_page_316" id="vol_4_page_316"></a> seemed, when he sat behind Éléonore. She, +upon turning suddenly, collided with the head of her escort, who was not +looking at the stage at that moment; and their two faces were so near to +each other that the ends of their noses touched. A man accustomed to +intrigues would have seized the opportunity to kiss the young woman, but +Callé hastily drew back, stammering apologies which no one demanded of +him; for Éléonore, when she found those eyes absorbed by contemplation +of her charms, had been on the point of saying:</p> + +<p>"You are very good!"</p> + +<p>The second play had quite as much to say of love as the first. After the +first act, finding that her companion continued to sigh without daring +to speak, Éléonore remembered that her husband had told her that he +needed to be encouraged, and that without encouragement he would never +venture to talk with a lady; so she began the conversation.</p> + +<p>"I have noticed one thing, Monsieur Callé."</p> + +<p>"What is that, madame?"</p> + +<p>"That there's a lot about love in all plays."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is true; you are right; they bring it in everywhere."</p> + +<p>"Why is it, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"Why, madame, it is, apparently, because the authors don't know how to +talk about anything else."</p> + +<p>"Do you think so? I have heard people say that the stage was simply a +copy of what happens in real life. But in real life people don't talk +about love all the time, do they, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! madame, they don't always talk about it—although often—one +would like to talk about it—but one doesn't dare."<a name="vol_4_page_317" id="vol_4_page_317"></a></p> + +<p>"Oho! so it's because one doesn't dare. That is a great mistake! It +seems to me that it's more interesting, more entertaining, than any +other subject."</p> + +<p>Young Callé had a declaration on the tip of his tongue. But the second +act began, and he said nothing more. During the act, Éléonore dropped +her opera glass on the floor. Callé instantly stepped forward to pick it +up; but, in order to do it, he had to go to the front of the box and +stoop until he was almost on his knees, for it was very dark, and he had +to feel about on the floor. Instead of the opera glass, he seized +Éléonore's foot and pressed it tenderly.</p> + +<p>"Why, that is not my opera glass that you have, Monsieur Callé; it's my +foot," said the pretty blonde, laughing.</p> + +<p>"Are you sure, madame?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, I can feel. But where are you looking, Monsieur Callé? my +glass isn't there; I can feel it with my foot."</p> + +<p>Callé decided at last, albeit with regret, to take his head from under +the seat; he had the opera glass, and presented it to the young lady +with a trembling hand. She was deeply moved, so much so that, in trying +to take it, she dropped it again. That time it fell in her lap, however; +so Callé resumed his seat; but after that, when Éléonore turned to speak +to him, she sometimes leaned upon him, perhaps unconsciously; ladies +often venture upon trifling familiarities like that, which give great +hopes to him with whom they indulge in them. The young man was as red as +a cherry, and his eyes were always somewhere else than on the stage.</p> + +<p>The act came to an end, and Madame Dubotté, turning to her escort, asked +him what he thought of the play.<a name="vol_4_page_318" id="vol_4_page_318"></a></p> + +<p>"I don't know, madame," he faltered; "I didn't hear a word of it."</p> + +<p>"What! didn't you listen?"</p> + +<p>"I beg pardon—I listened, but I didn't hear. I was so distraught by—— +Did your opera glass fall again, madame?"</p> + +<p>"Why, no—it's here in my lap."</p> + +<p>"Oh! that's a pity!"</p> + +<p>"Why so? would you like it to be on the floor again?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, because I might have the pleasure of looking for it. And +then—and then——"</p> + +<p>According to his custom, the young man failed to finish the sentence; +but he heaved such a prodigious sigh that Madame Dubotté asked him with +concern:</p> + +<p>"Are you ill, Monsieur Callé?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! no, madame; far from it!"</p> + +<p>"Why do you sigh so deeply, then?"</p> + +<p>"That is my way of being happy."</p> + +<p>"Ah! that's curious. So you are very happy, are you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, madame; I always am—when I am with you!"</p> + +<p>He actually finished his sentence that time. Éléonore thanked him with a +sweet smile; and during the last act she leaned much more frequently on +the young man, whose knees served to transform her seat into an +armchair.</p> + +<p>The performance came to an end. They walked home slowly, very slowly; +they did not seem in any haste to arrive. Éléonore talked about the +play; the young man answered <i>yes</i> and <i>no</i> at random, but he pressed +very tenderly the arm that was passed through his, and the caress seemed +in no wise to offend her to whom it was addressed.<a name="vol_4_page_319" id="vol_4_page_319"></a></p> + +<p>On reaching home, Madame Dubotté invited her young escort to come soon +to play bézique with her, while her husband went about without her +according to his custom. Callé promised to take advantage of her +invitation.</p> + +<p>And so, during the following week, Monsieur Callé went almost every +evening to play bézique with fair-haired Éléonore; and she was no longer +out of temper when her husband went out without her. Indeed, she +sometimes said to him:</p> + +<p>"My dear, if you have any business on hand, don't put yourself out for +me; Monsieur Callé will come and stay with me. He is very strong at +bézique, and never has enough of it; he is indefatigable!"</p> + +<p>Dubotté was enchanted.</p> + +<p>"At last I have trained my wife!" he cried; "she is just what I wanted +her to be! She isn't on my back all the time now; she leaves me entirely +at liberty. That is what I wanted to bring about; I had hard work, but I +have succeeded. She goes to the theatre with Callé now, without showing +any temper, even when I don't go after her."</p> + +<p>The young woman did more than that: when her husband promised to secure +a box for her, she always said:</p> + +<p>"Try to get a baignoire, my dear!"<a name="vol_4_page_320" id="vol_4_page_320"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="XVII-ls" id="XVII-ls"></a>XVII<br /><br /> +<small>INCORRIGIBLE</small></h2> + +<p>Adhémar went to see Nathalie every day; during the day, he gave her all +the time which his literary labors left at his disposal, and passed all +his evenings with her. He often discussed with her his ideas, his plans +for new plays; and sometimes read a scene to her, or a chapter of a new +novel. He consulted her and profited by her advice. If Molière consulted +his maid-servant, is it not much more natural to consult one's mistress? +There is this difference, however: Laforest, Molière's servant, was +proud and happy to be consulted by her master; whereas, out of twenty +mistresses, there will be nineteen who will not listen to you when you +talk literature to them, who will yawn when you read them a page that +you have just written, or who will interrupt you at the most interesting +point to say:</p> + +<p>"What color do you prefer for a dress, my dear, green or blue? I myself +think that blue is more becoming to me—what do you say?"</p> + +<p>Thereupon you see that your efforts as a reader who desires to move his +audience are thrown away; you put your manuscript in your pocket, and +make up your mind never to talk with your fair one about anything but +dresses and fashions, as she takes no interest in anything else. But +there are exceptions; there are women who are willing to listen when you +do not talk to them about themselves, and who are able to talk about +something<a name="vol_4_page_321" id="vol_4_page_321"></a> besides styles and love. Nathalie was one of these +exceptions; that is why Adhémar was so happy in her company; that is why +they suited each other so well.</p> + +<p>So it was that the most perfect harmony reigned between the lovers, +when, on arriving at Madame Dermont's one morning much earlier than +usual, Adhémar was informed by the servant that her mistress was not at +home.</p> + +<p>"What! she has gone out before noon? To do some shopping, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, monsieur; but madame will certainly return very soon, for +whenever she goes out in the morning like this, she always comes home +before noon."</p> + +<p>"Whenever she goes out like this!" muttered Adhémar, his heart beginning +already to sink. "So Madame Dermont often goes out in the morning?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Dame!</i> monsieur, I can't say just how often; but she has been out +several times lately."</p> + +<p>Adhémar did not pursue his questioning any further. He threw himself +into an armchair, thinking:</p> + +<p>"I will wait for her; of course, she will tell me where she has been."</p> + +<p>And he tried to banish the evil thoughts which were already besieging +his mind. Less than five minutes had passed, when Nathalie appeared. She +seemed a little surprised to find Adhémar there; but she went to him +with outstretched hand, and said, smiling as usual:</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, my dear!"</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, madame!"</p> + +<p>"Oho! what does that <i>madame</i> mean? Since when have I been <i>madame</i> to +you? Is it because you didn't find me when you came, that you would call +me <i>madame</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Why, no—it was simply for a change."</p> + +<p>"I don't like the change, myself! What's the matter?"<a name="vol_4_page_322" id="vol_4_page_322"></a></p> + +<p>"Nothing. Have you been to walk?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—that is to say, I have been to pay a visit."</p> + +<p>"Oh! a visit. Would it be presumptuous in me to ask you to whom you pay +visits—so early?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, a little presumptuous, perhaps. However, as I see that you +are frowning, and that you probably suspect me of treachery already——"</p> + +<p>"Oh! upon my word!"</p> + +<p>"No, you are incapable of it, aren't you?—Well, monsieur, I have been +to see my poor friend Juliette. Are you satisfied?"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! I asked you—just for something to say."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I understand—and to find out where I had been."</p> + +<p>"Did you see your friend Juliette?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure!"</p> + +<p>"And you have been to see her often of late?"</p> + +<p>"Why not? if I can comfort her or gratify her by listening to her +confidences. If you were unhappy, wouldn't you be very glad to have a +true friend come to see you and try to console you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! when I am unhappy, I keep it to myself, and don't go and tell other +people about it."</p> + +<p>"Women are not like men, my dear; when they have troubles—love +troubles, especially—they love to pour out their hearts on a friend's +breast."</p> + +<p>"Yes, women are very fond of having secrets between themselves, of being +mysterious with us."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear! there you go again, with your evil thoughts! Is it because I +have been to see Juliette that you are so cross?"</p> + +<p>"Cross? I am not cross!"</p> + +<p>"As if I didn't know you! as if I couldn't read in your eyes! You +promised me absolute confidence."<a name="vol_4_page_323" id="vol_4_page_323"></a></p> + +<p>"It seems to me that I am proving my confidence in you at this moment."</p> + +<p>"By making wry faces because you didn't find me when you came this +morning! Come, my friend, let us reason a little; you should be logical: +if I don't love you, what reason have I for pretending to, for feigning +sentiments which I do not feel—for deceiving you, in a word? +Come—answer me!"</p> + +<p>Instead of answering, Adhémar rose and paced the floor, sat down at the +piano, ran his fingers over the keys, began waltzes, polkas, and +mazurkas; then ran to Nathalie and kissed her, saying:</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, dear girl; I slept badly last night; I have a little +headache; that is why you found me so sulky."</p> + +<p>Nathalie pretended to believe him, and harmony was reëstablished, in +appearance at least; for in the bottom of his heart Adhémar was +tormented by doubt; he thought of those frequent goings-out in the +morning, ostensibly to see Juliette, and said to himself:</p> + +<p>"She used not to go out so often—or, if she did, she told me herself +when she intended to go."</p> + +<p>Several days passed; Adhémar constantly changed the hour of his visits; +but Madame Dermont was always at home, and he began to feel a little +more at ease. But, impelled by that jealousy which in him was the +inevitable concomitant of genuine love, it happened more than once that, +after he had left Nathalie, he prowled about the street a long while, or +stood under a neighboring porte cochère, to see if she did not go out; +but he had his trouble for his pains, to his great contentment.</p> + +<p>One morning, about nine o'clock, it occurred to him to go and walk +through the street where Madame Dermont lived.<a name="vol_4_page_324" id="vol_4_page_324"></a></p> + +<p>"I won't go up to her rooms," he said to himself, "for she's not an +early riser, and I might disturb her in her sleep; but I may see her +servant come out, and I can give her the bouquet I am going to buy for +her mistress. Nathalie will find it by her side when she wakes, and +she'll surmise from whom it comes."</p> + +<p>He dressed hurriedly, and bought a lovely bouquet on Passage Verdeau. +Then he walked to Rue de Paradis-Poissonnière, to Madame Dermont's +house, looked up at the windows, where all the curtains were still +drawn, and strolled along the street, after looking at his watch: it was +half-past nine. That was too early for a call on Nathalie, but he hoped +that the servant would come out.</p> + +<p>Ten minutes passed, and Madame Dermont's servant did not appear. Adhémar +was tired of pacing the street with his flowers in his hand, and had +almost concluded to go up, thinking that he could ring very softly, to +avoid waking her, when he saw a cab coming rapidly toward him. It +slackened its pace as it approached Madame Dermont's house. Adhémar, +without pausing to weigh his reasons for so doing, stepped aside; +something told him that he was interested in that cab, and he determined +to see who alighted from it.</p> + +<p>It stopped in front of Nathalie's door; a young woman alighted, paid the +driver, and hurried into the house. But Adhémar had recognized her; he +could not be mistaken; he had seen her features, he had recognized her +dress, and the hat she wore when she went out in the morning: it was +she, it was Nathalie! For an instant Adhémar thought of running after +her and shouting:</p> + +<p>"Where have you been?"</p> + +<p>But he reflected that she might lie to him again; and a better plan +occurred to him. The cab was still there,<a name="vol_4_page_325" id="vol_4_page_325"></a> the driver preparing to +return to his box. Adhémar opened the door, jumped in, and, taking ten +francs from his pocket, placed them in the cabman's hand as he asked him +where he wished to go.</p> + +<p>The man was amazed at sight of the ten francs which his new passenger +gave him even before hiring him.</p> + +<p>"Oh! it's to be a long trip, eh? You want to go into the country, I take +it, bourgeois?"</p> + +<p>"The ten francs are to pay you for answering my questions briefly: a +lady has just got out of your cab?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, bourgeois; a pretty little lady—good style. I know what I'm +talking about."</p> + +<p>"Where did you take her from?"</p> + +<p>"Where did I take her from? why, from here, bourgeois, about an hour and +a quarter ago; it wasn't quite a half, but the little woman pays +generous, without haggling."</p> + +<p>"She took you by the hour, then, when she started?"</p> + +<p>"Just so."</p> + +<p>"Where did you go with her? Now, don't lie to me!"</p> + +<p>"You pay too well for me to lie to you! Besides, there's no mystery +about it; I took her to the Jardin des Plantes."</p> + +<p>"To the Jardin des Plantes?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, bourgeois; in front of the gate, on the water side. She got out +there and told me to wait, and then she went into the garden."</p> + +<p>"Alone?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, alone when she went in; but when she came out, after a +quarter of an hour or more, she wasn't alone then."</p> + +<p>"Who was with her?"</p> + +<p>"A gentleman—a young man."<a name="vol_4_page_326" id="vol_4_page_326"></a></p> + +<p>"A young man? What was he like—his dress—his features?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! excuse me! but you don't suppose I took his photograph, do you? He +was dressed, like everybody else, in a frock-coat. I thought he was +rather a good-looking fellow. That's all I can tell you."</p> + +<p>"And this man—this gentleman—this frock-coat—he came out with the +lady, you say? Did she have his arm?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! as to that, I can't say; I was on my box, and I didn't see them +till they were close to my cab, and the young man helped the lady in."</p> + +<p>"And got in with her?"</p> + +<p>"No, no; he didn't get in—he said good-bye."</p> + +<p>"How did he say it? Did he embrace her?—did he kiss her hand?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! bless your heart! I was straightening out my reins, and I didn't +see them embrace. The lady called out to me: 'Take me back to where you +brought me from!'—The young man shut the door and went off—but, yes, I +remember now that he said to her, as he went away: 'Thank you, thank you +a thousand times for coming!'—Now, where'll you go, bourgeois?"</p> + +<p>"To the Jardin des Plantes, to the same spot where that lady got out."</p> + +<p>Adhémar's brain was on fire, his heart beat violently; he pressed his +hands against his brow, saying to himself:</p> + +<p>"It is absolutely certain now—she too deceives me—and she dared to +tell me that she loved me! Ah! we don't deceive those whom we love! It +is all over—yes, all over, this time! I won't see her again, for she +would tell me another lie; she would invent some fable to make me +believe that she is innocent! And perhaps I should<a name="vol_4_page_327" id="vol_4_page_327"></a> be idiot enough to +believe her. But, no, I do not propose to be her dupe again; I will see +her no more. But that man with whom she makes assignations so early in +the day—ah! if I could find out who he is, I would kill him! And yet, +he is not the guilty one, for he loves her. But not as I loved her—oh, +no!"</p> + +<p>As he glanced about, Adhémar saw a handkerchief at his feet; he picked +it up, examined it, and recognized Nathalie's monogram, which he had +seen her embroidering with her own hands.</p> + +<p>"She was so engrossed that she forgot it!" he muttered, twisting the +handkerchief in his clenched hands. "A moment ago, she was here, on this +seat, and she was thinking of another man!"</p> + +<p>He could no longer control his grief; he sobbed bitterly, and the tears +rushed from his eyes; but he felt a sort of pleasure in wiping them away +with the handkerchief which belonged to her.</p> + +<p>The cab stopped and the driver opened the door, saying:</p> + +<p>"This is the very place where the little lady got out, bourgeois, and +where I waited for her. There's the Jardin des Plantes."</p> + +<p>Adhémar, absorbed by his reflections and memories, had no idea where he +was or whither he was going. The cabman's words recalled him to himself. +He jumped out of the cab and said to the man:</p> + +<p>"You must come with me."</p> + +<p>"Where to, bourgeois?"</p> + +<p>"Into the Jardin des Plantes."</p> + +<p>"Carriages ain't admitted; it's against the rules."</p> + +<p>"I didn't say anything about your cab; I want only you. We will walk +through the garden, and I want you to look closely at every man you see; +and if you recognize<a name="vol_4_page_328" id="vol_4_page_328"></a> the young man who escorted that lady back to your +cab, you must point him out to me instantly."</p> + +<p>The cabman began to laugh.</p> + +<p>"My word! that's a good one, that is! You want me to go with you afoot, +eh? And what will become of my cab and my horses in the meantime?"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! they won't fly away. Go and stand your cab over yonder where +those others are."</p> + +<p>"I can't do that, bourgeois; our orders is not to lose sight of our +horses; I should be punished—discharged, perhaps."</p> + +<p>Adhémar took ten more francs from his pocket and put them in the +cabman's hand.</p> + +<p>"Just a few times round the garden; while you're away, one of your +comrades will look after your horses."</p> + +<p>Money always produces its due effect; the cabman wavered, and at last +replied:</p> + +<p>"I'll go and ask Jérôme, who's over there, I believe, if he'll have an +eye on my horses, and I'll share the ten francs with him—eh, +bourgeois?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes,—here, give him this five-franc piece; off with you!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! Jérôme's a good fellow! he'll do it for me."</p> + +<p>The driver ran to the cab stand, told his comrade what was wanted, and +showed him the last five-franc piece he had received.</p> + +<p>"We two will drink it up directly," he added.</p> + +<p>Jérôme agreed; the cabman pocketed the hundred sous, and returned to +Adhémar.</p> + +<p>"It's all fixed," he said; "Jérôme will have an eye on my beasts."</p> + +<p>"Come with me, then."</p> + +<p>They entered the garden, the cab driver walking beside Adhémar, who said +to him:<a name="vol_4_page_329" id="vol_4_page_329"></a></p> + +<p>"Look carefully at all the men—the young men, I mean—and as soon as +you see the one who was with that lady, say: 'There he is!'"</p> + +<p>"All right, bourgeois; or, say I cough to warn you?"</p> + +<p>"Very well."</p> + +<p>There were few people in the garden. Adhémar walked rapidly, and his +companion could hardly keep up with him.</p> + +<p>"Sapristi!" he cried; "you travel faster than my horses!"</p> + +<p>A young man passed them, and the cabman began to cough.</p> + +<p>"Well!" exclaimed Adhémar, stopping abruptly.</p> + +<p>"That's not the man, bourgeois."</p> + +<p>"What in the devil did you cough for, then?"</p> + +<p>"To let you know that he wasn't the one."</p> + +<p>"You are not to cough unless you recognize him."</p> + +<p>"Oh! all right! I understand!"</p> + +<p>They went on again. They met a number of men, but the cabman made no +sign; he simply said from time to time:</p> + +<p>"If Jérôme should get a fare, who'd look after my cab?—By the way, +monsieur," he said at last; "there's one thing perhaps I ought to tell +you."</p> + +<p>"What's that?"</p> + +<p>"If the man you're looking for should pass us, I wouldn't know him. You +see, I hardly looked at him, only just caught a glimpse of him, and I +don't even know whether he was dark or light!"</p> + +<p>Adhémar stamped impatiently, and, realizing that his search would +necessarily be fruitless, decided to leave the garden. The cabman was +overjoyed to find Jérôme still on the square.</p> + +<p>"Where shall I take monsieur now?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Nowhere—thanks! I don't need you any longer."<a name="vol_4_page_330" id="vol_4_page_330"></a></p> + +<p>In his then frame of mind, Adhémar preferred walking to riding; he +craved air and exercise. He walked very rapidly, often without looking +to see where he was going. However, he reached home in time, and had no +sooner entered his study than he ran to his desk and seized his pen.</p> + +<p>"I will write to her," he said to himself; "I cannot wait to tell her +that I know of her treachery—and then everything will be at an end +between us. I will try to forget her."</p> + +<p>With a hand that trembled with excitement, although his thoughts caused +it to move swiftly across the paper, he wrote Nathalie the following +letter:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="nind">"M<small>ADAME</small>:</p> + +<p>"You will deceive me no more! this time I have seen—seen with my +own eyes—that you devote to another the hours that I am not with +you. And you told me that I was wrong to be jealous! Ah! your +treachery is shameful! Why not have told me frankly that you no +longer loved me? But women are never willing to be frank! It is a +part of their nature to deceive. I knew it, and I should not have +believed you. Adieu, madame, and this time it is really forever!"</p></div> + +<p>Having signed and sealed this missive, Adhémar sent for a messenger and +told him to carry it to the person to whom it was addressed, and to come +away at once, without waiting for an answer.</p> + +<p>Then, throwing himself into a chair, and resting his head on his hand, +he abandoned himself to his thoughts, murmuring:</p> + +<p>"Oh! if I could only forget her!"<a name="vol_4_page_331" id="vol_4_page_331"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="XVIII-ls" id="XVIII-ls"></a>XVIII<br /><br /> +<small>MONSIEUR SERINGAT'S SECRET</small></h2> + +<p>Dodichet, disinherited by his aunt, and with only a hundred francs that +he could call his own, should have looked about for some occupation +which would afford him a livelihood; but, instead of that, he bought +more tobacco and cigars, went into a café and drank a glass of beer, +then took a cab and was driven to the so-called hotel on Rue +Saint-Jacques, where he had left Monsieur Seringat. He said to himself +on the road:</p> + +<p>"I must have recourse to that idiot again; it's a great pity, because I +owe him a thousand crowns already, and I have no prospect of any legacy +hereafter with which to pay him; but still, nobody knows, perhaps the +public won't treat me as harshly everywhere as it did at +Quimper-Corentin; my voice will come back; I'll take to a diet of yolks +of eggs—and mulled eggs. Meanwhile, Seringat may as well lend me +another thousand crowns. He's rich; if he wasn't, I wouldn't ask him for +a sou, especially as he couldn't give it to me. But he told me himself, +in the course of conversation, that he had twelve thousand francs a +year. The idiot! he could be so happy with that! And to think that he's +in hiding, that he's afraid someone will recognize him—and all because +his wife—— Upon my word, it's incredible! I am perfectly sure that he +hasn't his like in Paris!"</p> + +<p>When he arrived at the old house, Dodichet dismissed the cab; he crossed +the courtyard, and on the ground floor found the landlady, who was also +concierge, and<a name="vol_4_page_332" id="vol_4_page_332"></a> who supplied her guests with food; she filled a number +of positions, in order to increase her profits. At that moment she was +preparing snails <i>à la provençale</i>: first she took them out of the +shell, which she filled with a stuffing strongly seasoned with garlic, +then replaced the creature, and let the whole simmer over a slow fire.</p> + +<p>"Gad! that smells good!" observed Dodichet; "you're cooking snails, are +you, madame?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur; and I venture to flatter myself that they'll be +delicious."</p> + +<p>"I am not mad over that animal; it seems to me that when he's cooked he +becomes exactly like india rubber; but these have a seductive odor."</p> + +<p>"They are <i>à la provençale</i>. If monsieur would like a portion, they're +only six sous each; that ain't dear."</p> + +<p>"Faith! no; and one must come to the upper end of Rue Saint-Jacques to +get any sort of a dish all cooked at that price. Put one portion aside +for me. I'll eat it when I come down from my friend Miflorès. For I +suppose he's in, isn't he? and I'll go up."</p> + +<p>The landlady-concierge dropped a snail which she was just preparing, +looked at Dodichet with a tragic expression, and exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Stop, monsieur! don't go up! it's no use; you wont find Monsieur +Miflorès."</p> + +<p>"Has he gone out? Well, then I'll wait for him and eat my snails now; he +won't be out long, I fancy?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I beg your pardon, monsieur; I can assure you that he'll never come +back."</p> + +<p>"What do you say? he'll never come back? Has he moved again, then? What +does this mean?"</p> + +<p>"Why, don't you know what has happened, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"Parbleu! madame, if I did know, I wouldn't ask you."<a name="vol_4_page_333" id="vol_4_page_333"></a></p> + +<p>"Well, then, monsieur, I'll tell you everything, just as it happened. +But first let me pick up this snail which slipped out of my hand."</p> + +<p>"To be sure; shall you cook it with the others?"</p> + +<p>"Fire purifies everything, monsieur.—It was like this: just a fortnight +ago, a middle-aged man, very well dressed and with a very jovial air, +came into my house, followed by a porter with his luggage. He asked me +for a good room, and said he expected to spend ten or twelve days in +Paris; that he had come here to enjoy himself; and he told me his name, +Jacques Ronflard. Very good; I put him in a room on the first floor, +looking on this courtyard; he went out soon, and didn't come in till +very late. The next morning, monsieur, your friend Miflorès went out as +usual to take a short walk before breakfast. He'd no sooner gone than my +new tenant, Monsieur Ronflard, comes downstairs and says:</p> + +<p>"'Pardieu! you've got an acquaintance of mine here; I just saw him +through the window, and I recognized him right off. I'm very glad to +find him in the same hotel; he's a good friend of mine, is Seringat, and +he comes from Pontoise.'</p> + +<p>"I looks at him, and I says:</p> + +<p>"'But you're mistaken, monsieur; I haven't got any Seringat in my +house.'</p> + +<p>"'Excuse me, madame, but I saw him go out of this house this very +minute.'</p> + +<p>"'The man you saw go out of this house is named Miflorès, and not +Seringat, and he never told me that he came from Pontoise.'</p> + +<p>"'Apparently, madame, he's concluded to change his name; but I am +perfectly sure that the person who just went out is named Seringat, +formerly a druggist at<a name="vol_4_page_334" id="vol_4_page_334"></a> Pontoise. Parbleu! I know him well; I've often +bought insect powder of him to kill fleas. Poor Seringat! he's had a +hard time. His wife—you see what I mean? The whole town knew about it; +somebody even went so far as to write a song about him. Stay! I remember +one verse. It goes to the tune of the <i>Carillon de Dunkerque</i>.'—And +with that, he begins to sing:</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"'Ce pauvre Seringat!</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .6em;">Il a fait tant d'éclat,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .6em;">Que tout Pontoise a su</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .6em;">Qu'il était, ma foi, cornu!'</span></td></tr> +</table> + +<p>"Then he goes back to his room, saying:</p> + +<p>"'To prove that it's him, you'll see me throw myself into his arms when +he comes back. Be kind enough to let me know.'</p> + +<p>"So he goes back to his room; and I don't deny that I didn't care much +whether the other man was the hero of the song or not. In about a +quarter of an hour, Monsieur Miflorès came back. As soon as I saw him, I +runs and says to him:</p> + +<p>"'Is it true, monsieur, that your name's Seringat, and that you came +from Pontoise? There's a man in the house who says he recognized you. He +even knows a song about you. He asked me to let him know as soon as you +came in.'</p> + +<p>"At that, I saw the poor man change color; he rolled his eyes around and +clenched his fists, and he says to me:</p> + +<p>"'Madame, I forbid you to let that man know. Make up my bill; I am going +up to get my baggage and leave the house instantly.'</p> + +<p>"It was no use for me to promise not to say anything to the other one; +he wouldn't listen to me. He went up<a name="vol_4_page_335" id="vol_4_page_335"></a> to his room, packed his valise, +came down again, paid me my money, and went off. But Monsieur Ronflard +had seen him through the window. So he comes running down again.</p> + +<p>"'What!' he says; 'has he gone? didn't he wait for me? Oh! but I'll +catch him!'</p> + +<p>"And with that, he ran out to try to overtake his friend. He saw him in +front of him, but the other turned and, seeing that he was being +followed, began to run as if the devil was after him. Monsieur Ronflard +was obstinate; he ran after him, and it seems that he kept calling to +him:</p> + +<p>"'Stop, don't run like that, Seringat! it's Ronflard; don't you know +me?'</p> + +<p>"The man from Pontoise ran all the faster. Somebody who saw them +scurrying through the streets told me he thought they were running for +the firemen. To cut it short, Monsieur Miflorès came to the river; he +went down to the shore, saw a boatman pulling down stream, and motioned +to him to take him aboard. The man rowed to the bank and laid a plank +for him to come aboard. At that moment, Monsieur Ronflard came up and +began to sing at the top of his lungs:</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"'Ce pauvre Seringat!</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .6em;">Il a fait tant d'éclat,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .6em;">Que tout Pontoise a su</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .6em;">Qu'il était, ma foi, cornu!'</span></td></tr> +</table> + +<p>"Poor Monsieur Miflorès no sooner heard that song than he rushed onto +the plank; but he made a misstep and fell into the water. The current +dragged him away—it seems that he couldn't swim. And when they +succeeded in fishing him up, he was dead!"<a name="vol_4_page_336" id="vol_4_page_336"></a></p> + +<p>"Dead! Can it be that he is dead? Poor Seringat!—for that really was +his true name.—Well! there's no doubt that your Monsieur Ronflard did a +good stroke of business then!"</p> + +<p>"Why, monsieur, he seemed to be terribly distressed; he had the jaundice +on account of it, and he only left Paris yesterday.—'I must go and tell +Madame Seringat she's a widow,' he says to me, when he went away; 'I +feel sure that it won't make her feel so badly as I do.'"</p> + +<p>Dodichet did not recover for several minutes from the shock he had +received. Then he sat down at a table and said:</p> + +<p>"Be kind enough to give me my plate of snails, madame, with some bread +and wine; for, after all, if I don't eat them, that won't bring poor +Seringat to life. That's why I prefer to eat them."</p> + +<p>The landlady hastened to serve Dodichet, and remained with him to talk, +that being her greatest enjoyment. Dodichet heaved a faint sigh from +time to time, but he did not waste a mouthful.</p> + +<p>"Does monsieur find my snails to his taste?"</p> + +<p>"They're very good, madame, and perfectly cooked. You almost make me +like the dish, and I am forgetting the loss I have suffered.—Poor +Seringat!"</p> + +<p>"Is monsieur a great loser by his death?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed! I have lost—all that I had in prospect."</p> + +<p>"Did he owe you money?"</p> + +<p>"No, not exactly. But it amounted to the same thing."</p> + +<p>"You will fall back on your friend's wife—his widow, I mean—won't +you?"</p> + +<p>"No; I have no claim on her. There is nothing left for me but to +dedicate one last sigh to the deceased, and think of something +else.—How much do I owe you, madame?"<a name="vol_4_page_337" id="vol_4_page_337"></a></p> + +<p>"Sixteen sous in all, monsieur, for the snails and wine and bread."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's not dear, on my honor! When I want to treat my mistress, +I'll bring her here; especially as I see no prospect of a dinner at +Brébant's."</p> + +<p>Dodichet paid his bill and left the old hotel of which he had formerly +held such a low opinion, but which he was now very glad to know, looking +upon it as a possible resource in adversity. He bent his steps toward +Boulotte's abode. As the wine he had taken with his snails had not gone +to his head, he reflected on his position. The two blows which he had +received in rapid succession annihilated all his hopes, and made even +his present very precarious. However, he would not allow himself to be +cast down; his heedless nature kept him from worrying about the future. +Such natures are much to be envied, so some people declare. They never +borrow trouble, and everything is rose-colored in their eyes!—I am not +of that opinion; heedlessness means disorder, and disorder means ruin; +and that is the fate of such happy-go-lucky natures.</p> + +<p>When Dodichet arrived at the young ballet dancer's, she was not, as +usual, making mineral rouge with bricks, but was engaged in drawing a +dainty little network of veins on her temples, with indigo. At sight of +her lover, she threw aside her brush and ran to embrace him.</p> + +<p>"Here you are! How glad I am! Tell me all about your début and your +triumph. I am sure you had wreaths thrown to you, and made plenty of +conquests! You were so handsome as Joconde! How many recalls did you +have?"</p> + +<p>"They recalled me, that's true enough," Dodichet replied, dropping into +a chair, "but I didn't choose to go<a name="vol_4_page_338" id="vol_4_page_338"></a> back; because they wanted to play a +low trick on me. I had just time to escape, in a policeman's cloak and a +fireman's helmet."</p> + +<p>"What sort of a tale is this? What new practical joke have you been +playing?"</p> + +<p>"Well, it was a very poor one; the audience at Quimper-Corentin had the +cheek to hiss, to send me to the devil; and I turned round and showed +them my other face. At that, there were shouts and yelling and a great +hullabaloo; and, as I have just told you, I had hardly time to get +away."</p> + +<p>"Is it possible? And what's become of your pretty costume?"</p> + +<p>"I sold it, on my way back, to get a pair of trousers and a coat."</p> + +<p>"So your début—you've got to begin again, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks, no! I have no desire to try it again in the same line. My voice +won't come back."</p> + +<p>"Oh! you smoke too much! I told you so! Luckily, your aunt's dead; a +friend of yours told me."</p> + +<p>"Yes, my aunt's dead, that's true; but she disinherited me!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! my poor boy! what a grind! But, thank heaven! you still have your +gold mine—the man who can't refuse you when you ask him for money—the +man with the mystery!"</p> + +<p>"My dear girl, the man with the mystery has followed my aunt's example; +that is, he hasn't disinherited me, but he's dead."</p> + +<p>"Oh! mon Dieu! Did someone mention Pontoise to him?"</p> + +<p>"Better than that: someone sang him a song that was written about him at +Pontoise, in which they poked fun<a name="vol_4_page_339" id="vol_4_page_339"></a> at him about his accident; for I can +tell you now what it was that that jackass was so afraid people would +find out. Sieur Seringat had a very pretty wife, whom he believed to be +a regular Lucretia. The fellow had the bad habit of making sport of +deceived husbands, of laughing at their expense, and saying that no such +misfortune would ever happen to him. But, lo and behold! one day, at an +outdoor fête, our Seringat saw a veiled lady in the distance, just at +dusk, slip into an isolated summer house, where, not long after, she was +joined by a young officer. Feeling sure that the lady he had seen was +the wife of one of the leading men of the town, Seringat got together +several young men, confided his discovery to them, and guided them to +the pavilion, which was not lighted, but which they entered, carrying +torches, on the pretext of illuminating it. Whom did they find there? +Whom but Madame Seringat, in criminal conversation with the young +officer! Who was sheepish and shamefaced then? Who but Seringat; for all +the husbands in Pontoise revenged themselves on him, and that same +evening his misadventure was known all over the town. Seringat, in his +rage and vexation at becoming one of that class at which he had always +laughed, left Pontoise the next day, swearing never to return. He took +the name of Miflorès, and anybody who knew him could get anything out of +him by threatening to disclose his name and his adventure. In fact, he +was drowned not long ago, because a man from Pontoise chased him, +calling him by his real name, and singing a couplet in which he was +ridiculed about his accident. In his haste to escape, Seringat, who was +trying to get aboard a boat, made a misstep, fell into the river, and +was drowned.—Now you know, my dear girl, how I made him lend me money. +He had so much self-esteem, and was so vexed<a name="vol_4_page_340" id="vol_4_page_340"></a> at wearing a pair of +horns, that you had only to threaten to tell about it, to obtain all you +wanted."</p> + +<p>"Well, he was a Gribouille, on my word! to throw himself into the water +for fear someone would know he had taken a fancy to <i>the yellow</i>! If all +the husbands that happens to should run into the river, the fish would +get a good fright!—And what are you going to do now, my poor Dodichet?"</p> + +<p>"I am going to make a cigarette."</p> + +<p>"That won't keep you alive."</p> + +<p>"True; but to-morrow I shall go to see the theatrical agent. I'll tell +him that I've changed my line, that I play the legitimate drama now, the +leading rôles, Frédérick Lemaître's and Mélingue's and Dumaine's. He'll +soon find me an engagement in some large town; for I don't propose to +play in holes in the ground any more. I want a chance now to display my +talents on a vast stage!"</p> + +<p>"You're sure you have talents, are you?"</p> + +<p>"Pardieu! everyone has; the only thing is to find them. A famous thinker +has said: 'How many people have come into the world and left it without +unpacking all their merchandise!'"</p> + +<p>"What does that mean?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you understand? You grieve me! That means that many people are +born with talents and faculties which events, fatality or poverty, do +not permit them to develop, to make manifest. Now, do you see, something +tells me that I have dramatic genius in my stomach!"</p> + +<p>"Dear me! And do you mean to force it out?"</p> + +<p>"I mean to find my real vocation. Meanwhile, would you like me to treat +you to snails? I know a place where they cook them in a way to make you +lick your fingers."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, I prefer something else!"<a name="vol_4_page_341" id="vol_4_page_341"></a></p> + +<p>"After all, I still have a little money in my pocket, and I'll take you +to Bonvalet's. Come, O Boulotte! On the way, I will purchase a number of +dramas, and this evening I will learn the leading rôles by heart."</p> + +<p>"I think I see you!" said Boulotte, putting on her jaunty little hat; +"this evening you will smoke!"</p> + +<h2><a name="XIX-ls" id="XIX-ls"></a>XIX<br /><br /> +<small>THE END OF THE YEAR</small></h2> + +<p>After forming the resolution never to see Madame Dermont again, Adhémar, +unable to resist successfully his intense longing to meet her, to catch +a glimpse of her, even at a distance, suddenly determined to go to +England. He gave himself hardly time enough to pack a valise, took +plenty of money, and hurried to the railway, which took him to Boulogne, +whence he soon crossed the straits. He thought that he could escape from +his memories by leaving his country, and went at once to London. He +passed six weeks there, which seemed to him six years, did his utmost to +fall in love with an Englishwoman, and, failing miserably, returned at +last to Paris.</p> + +<p>"I believe it will be easier for me to fall in love with a Parisian," he +thought; "at all events, it's all over, so far as Nathalie is concerned; +I never think of her now, and she probably spends her time with the +young man that she met at the Jardin des Plantes. After this, the sight +of her will not make the slightest impression on me, and my heart would +beat no faster if I should meet her face to face. I no longer love +her!"<a name="vol_4_page_342" id="vol_4_page_342"></a></p> + +<p>However, his first act, on reaching Paris, was to go and gaze at the +windows of her whom he declared that he no longer loved. He walked up +and down in front of her house for a long time, scrutinized everybody +who went in or out, and returned home at last, saying to himself that +that was simply the remains of an old habit, and that it would soon wear +out.</p> + +<p>For a week he continued his daily promenades on Rue de +Paradis-Poissonnière. On the eighth day, as he was going in the same +direction, he remembered that it was just a year since he and his three +friends had met at the café at the corner of the boulevard and Faubourg +Poissonnière, and that they had all agreed to meet at the same place at +the end of a year. So he changed his direction and went to the café, +being curious to see whether his friends had remembered the appointment, +and at the same time ready to seize any opportunity to obtain even +momentary relief from his one haunting thought.</p> + +<p>On entering the café, Adhémar spied Philémon Dubotté taking his ease +with a glass of punch and a newspaper.</p> + +<p>"Bravo!" cried Philémon, as they shook hands; "here are two men of their +word! two men with a memory! I never doubted you, my dear fellow. How +are you? You look a little pale. Didn't the air of London agree with +you? I understand you have been in England?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; the London air isn't very clear. It is composed in great part of +smoke and fog; but it's not unhealthy, I believe, as the neighborhood of +the sea drives away the noxious vapors."</p> + +<p>"Did you make a lot of conquests over there? But of course you did."<a name="vol_4_page_343" id="vol_4_page_343"></a></p> + +<p>"On the contrary, I kept clear of all intrigues."</p> + +<p>"You astound me! I mean to go to England for the express purpose of +finding out how the English women make love."</p> + +<p>"Be careful! they take it more seriously than our French women do."</p> + +<p>"Meanwhile, my dear Adhémar, you see before you the happiest man in +Paris. I have arrived, my dear fellow, in every sense of the word. I am +chief of a bureau—the position which was the one object of my ambition; +and in my family relations I have nothing left to desire. My wife used +to be perfectly killing with her affection; she would have liked to be +hanging on my arm all the time; I have cured her of that nonsense, and +now she lets me go out without her whenever I choose; sometimes, indeed, +she is the first to suggest it. There's a young man who comes to the +house to play cards with her, and who takes her to the theatre and to +drive. I had great difficulty in accustoming her to it; but now the +thing goes all alone, and she leaves me as much liberty as I can +possibly desire. Well, Adhémar, what do you say? haven't I steered my +ship pretty well? Why don't you congratulate me?"</p> + +<p>Adhémar, who had smiled in rather an equivocal way while the handsome +blond boasted of his good fortune, made haste to reply:</p> + +<p>"You have reached your goal, my dear Dubotté, and, as you are satisfied, +there is nothing for me to do but congratulate you."</p> + +<p>"Gad! I should be hard to suit if I wasn't satisfied. And you must be, +too, my dear fellow, for your success is uninterrupted, and you earn a +lot of money."</p> + +<p>"Happiness doesn't always depend on money alone."<a name="vol_4_page_344" id="vol_4_page_344"></a></p> + +<p>"What about the other two fellows? have you any news of them?"</p> + +<p>"No; I have been away from Paris, you know."</p> + +<p>"Between ourselves, I am afraid poor Dodichet has turned out badly. He +amused himself by perpetrating practical jokes that were much too +dangerous, sometimes. I found him one day at poor old Mirotaine's, where +he had brought a supposititious marrying man. I recognized the latter as +a druggist from Pontoise, with a wife of his own. The result was +confusion, disillusionment, revolution! That was a very poor joke."</p> + +<p>"I heard about that. Yes, Dodichet wastes his whole life inventing such +monkey tricks, which raise a laugh for the moment, but never have a +beneficial result for the man who perpetrates them."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry, for Dodichet is a good fellow at bottom."</p> + +<p>"A good fellow! We think we have said everything, when we remark, in +speaking of a man: 'He's a good fellow.'—For my part, I consider that +that epithet is almost always applied to a person with whom it is +advisable to avoid any intimate connection, for the good fellow is +constantly doing idiotic things: he squanders his money like a fool, +and, when it's all gone, thinks it the most natural thing in the world +to borrow and never pay. He owes his tailor, his shoemaker, everybody he +deals with. He never has a sou in his pocket; but if you ask him to join +a party of any sort, he always accepts, and you have to pay for him. +Sometimes he will even invite you to dine at one of the best restaurants +in Paris; he will entertain you magnificently, sparing neither truffles +nor champagne; but when it comes to paying the bill, which may amount to +forty francs, he will find only fifty sous in his purse and ask you to +advance the rest.<a name="vol_4_page_345" id="vol_4_page_345"></a> He will make an intimate friend of anybody he happens +to meet, and sometimes finds himself playing billiards with sharpers, +because he is so trustful that he calls people whose names he doesn't +know his friends. He never keeps a promise; he constantly feeds on +chimerical illusions, and flatters himself that he is going to win a +million of money, when he hasn't a sou in his pocket. That's the kind of +person a 'good fellow' is: frankly, I prefer a bad one."</p> + +<p>As Adhémar finished, an individual, very shabbily dressed, his body +encased in an old, greenish frock-coat, buttoned to the chin, with not a +particle of linen in sight, with a shocking round hat, almost brimless, +on his head, and patched and muddy old boots on his feet, entered the +café with a very pronounced limp, and halted in front of the two +friends.</p> + +<p>"Well, well!" he cried, "don't you know me? Here I am, faithful to our +appointment of last year."</p> + +<p>"Dodichet!" cried Dubotté and Adhémar in one breath.</p> + +<p>"Yes, messieurs; Dodichet himself: slightly the worse for wear, and +exceedingly hard up, as you see; but still ready to laugh when occasion +offers!"</p> + +<p>"But you are limping, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! yes, I am limping, and it's for life too; I shall always +limp—it's the result of a fool's trick, an experiment, which I will +tell you about directly. But make room for me at your table."</p> + +<p>"With pleasure; will you have some grog, or beer?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks; if it's all the same to you, I prefer a beefsteak."</p> + +<p>"Waiter, a beefsteak for monsieur."</p> + +<p>"With an endless supply of potatoes."</p> + +<p>The beefsteak was brought; Dodichet consumed it, together with two +loaves of bread and three carafes of<a name="vol_4_page_346" id="vol_4_page_346"></a> water; it was evident that the +poor fellow needed recruiting. His two old friends respected his +appetite, and asked no questions until he had finished.</p> + +<p>"Messieurs," said Dodichet, "having been disinherited by my aunt, and +that old fool of a Seringat having fallen into the water while running +away from one of his friends who sang a song to him based on his +conjugal misadventure, I had no choice but to decide upon some definite +course of action. I told you a year ago that the stage was my vocation. +I still think so; but I must confess that I was not wildly applauded as +a tenor—I smoked a little too much on the day of my début; to cut it +short, I was not fortunate at Quimper-Corentin. On my return to Paris, +the dramatic agent, to whom I made known my desire to play Frédérick +Lemaître's parts, told me to go at once to Carpentras, where the leading +man had burst a blood vessel while chasing someone who owed him three +francs fifty. So I went to Carpentras; I introduced myself to the +manager with that self-assurance to which I am subject. He welcomed me +joyfully, and said to me: 'We want to give an extra performance +to-morrow, for the benefit of wet-nurses with no children to nurse; I +mean to give <i>Trente Ans, ou la Vie d'un Joueur</i>, and, to end the show, +I have a young man from Pithiviers, who's as good at hair-raising leaps +as Léotard. Can you play Frédérick's part in <i>Trente Ans</i>?'—'I'll play +it for you right away, if you want,' said I, with a laugh. 'Don't be +alarmed; I have it at my finger tips.'—That wasn't quite true; but, as +I had seen the play very often, I thought to myself: 'I know the +entrances and exits; that's the main thing; when the lines escape me, +I'll try pantomime, or else I'll think up something that will suit the +situation.'—The manager was overjoyed; he announced his extra<a name="vol_4_page_347" id="vol_4_page_347"></a> +performance, as well as my début, and that of a second Léotard. The +critical moment arrived; the theatre was full, and the receipts +fabulously large for that place. They began <i>Trente Ans</i>, and I didn't +know a single line of the rôle of Georges.—Well! I played it like an +angel! The townspeople, as they didn't know the play, had no suspicion +that I was substituting my own words for the author's; my fellow actors +opened their eyes; but when they got confused, I pushed them so hard +that they had to speak. In a word, the play came to an end amid +tremendous applause; I was recalled, and acclaimed to the skies. The +manager embraced me and told me that I was engaged. At that moment, a +letter was handed him; it was from his acrobat, who told him that his +father had summoned him to Pithiviers to help prepare an unusually large +order of pies, and that he was going at once. My manager was in despair. +He had promised a performance on the trapèze, and the audience expected +it; if he failed to give it, they would have the right to demand their +money back, and he wouldn't have given it back for anything under +heaven. Seeing the manager's embarrassment, I asked him to show me what +the acrobat was supposed to do. He was to run at full speed, jump +through a hoop covered with paper, and come out on the other side high +enough in the air to seize a rope which hung down a little beyond the +hoop. 'Is that all?' I asked, with a scornful laugh; 'why, that's a mere +<i>pons asinorum</i>! I do much more than that when I toy with gymnastics. Be +calm; give me the tights, and I'll show you some jumping that will be +quite equal to that of your Pithiviers tumbler!'—The manager leaped on +my neck, informed me that he doubled my salary,—which did not +compromise him much, as he had not as yet offered me<a name="vol_4_page_348" id="vol_4_page_348"></a> anything,—then +went and told the orchestra to play the Tartar March while I was +dressing; after that, he would have an announcement to make to the +audience. He went to the front of the stage, bowed, and announced that +his acrobat had accidentally sprained a ligament, and that the artist +who had just played the part of Georges would take his place. Everybody +praised me to the skies. 'What a man!' they said; 'he takes Frédérick's +rôles and Léotard's at the same time!'—Meanwhile, I was doing my utmost +to get into the acrobat's flesh-colored tights. I had great difficulty, +for they were terribly scant for my rotund form; however, I got into +them at last. The three blows were struck; the orchestra played the +triumphal march from <i>La Muette</i> for me; I appeared, and was greeted +with uproarious applause. To show my elasticity, I executed three +handsprings before the audience; at the third, I tore my tights +horribly, and showed them something besides my elasticity. However, that +did not deter me; and the audience, thinking that I had another costume +under my tights, and that I was making a lightning change in full view, +applauded all the louder. That encouraged me, excited me! I ran onto the +springboard, and jumped through the paper hoop; but, meaning to seize +the rope as I came down, I jumped too high, and seized nothing but one +of the wings, which came tumbling to the stage with me, and the fall +dislocated my knee; that put an end to the performance.</p> + +<p>"I must do the manager justice; I had hurt myself in order to oblige +him, and he had my injury attended to; the surgeon went about it so +skilfully that I shall limp all my life. Thus the theatrical career was +closed to me, for you can't play Buridan or Kean with a limp. By way of +compensation, the manager offered me the post of<a name="vol_4_page_349" id="vol_4_page_349"></a> prompter. I accepted. +'Prompting isn't acting,' I thought. 'But as I can't act any more, I may +as well prompt! it's a theatrical post; and although the audience +doesn't see you, still you're a useful member of the cast, for you +sometimes play all the parts.'—So I became prompter to the troupe; I +was not discontented, for, after my accident, they gave a performance +for my benefit, which was quite a success. I had passed more than a +month in that position, when—I may as well confess it—my fatal passion +for practical jokes attacked me with more violence than ever. We had a +young fellow for the lovers' parts, who claimed that he had never made a +mistake in his lines. One evening, when I was in rather a merry mood, +our lover was on the stage with a princess with whom the plot required +him to run away; and when she said to him, weeping bitterly: 'What are +you going to do with me?' he looked at me and motioned to me to help +him; so I whispered: 'Oh! how you tire me!'—and the poor devil made +that reply to the princess. You can imagine the effect that produced; +the audience laughed and yelled, and shouted <i>encore!</i> and the actress +who took the princess's part boxed her lover's ears, with a: 'Let that +teach you not to say such things to me on the stage.'</p> + +<p>"The <i>jeune premier</i> succeeded, not without difficulty, in justifying +himself; it was discovered that I was the only culprit, and the result +was my dismissal. I returned to Paris, where I am reduced to the +necessity of prompting in what used to be the suburbs.—That's my story, +and this is what I have come to!"</p> + +<p>"Pardieu! my poor Dodichet," said Dubotté, "it would seem as if this +ought to have cured you, at last, of your mania for practical jokes."<a name="vol_4_page_350" id="vol_4_page_350"></a></p> + +<p>"What would you have, noble Phœbus? that seems to have been my real +vocation. But here comes our fourth man. Bless my soul! he must have +arrived; for he has a most radiant expression, and there's a great +change in his dress as well as in his face."</p> + +<p>In truth, Lucien Grischard, who had just entered the café, was no longer +the poverty-stricken youth, in a threadbare coat, with traces of grief +and privation on his pinched features. To-day, his eyes were bright, and +the expression of his face announced the contentment of his mind; his +costume, while not dandified, denoted that its owner was in comfortable +circumstances; lastly, his face wore a cordial smile, as he shook hands +with the three persons whom he joined, and who had already noted with +pleasure the happy change that had taken place in him.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, messieurs, good-morning!" he said, with a joyous +intonation in his voice. "I am the last to come, but you will forgive me +when you know what has detained me."</p> + +<p>"How are you, Lucien? This much we see already, with the greatest +pleasure—that your position has changed for the better; for you seem +perfectly content; we can read that in your face."</p> + +<p>"And why should I not be, messieurs! I am going to marry the woman I +love. In a week, Juliette will be my wife. Monsieur Mirotaine has +consented at last to call me his son-in-law. My dearest wish is +fulfilled."</p> + +<p>"How did you succeed in gaining your end? Tell us about it."</p> + +<p>"By hard work and perseverance; my pins were a success, and I was making +money; I invented something else, so that I made still more, and I +succeeded in extending my business. But how was I to let Monsieur<a name="vol_4_page_351" id="vol_4_page_351"></a> +Mirotaine know that, when he had forbidden me to go to his house? That +was the difficulty; it was absolutely necessary that I should see +Juliette, in order to tell her all that I was doing; it was necessary to +have a definite understanding with her, and to give her precise details +concerning my position and prospects, so that she could say to her +father: 'You can go to this place and that place, and there you will +learn where Lucien stands.'—Luckily, Juliette has a friend, who came to +our assistance. This friend obtained permission quite often to take +Juliette out with her, sometimes to bathe, sometimes to go shopping; +but, as a matter of fact, the two ladies would meet me at the Jardin des +Plantes; there I could arrange with Juliette what she was to say to her +father about my position."</p> + +<p>"At the Jardin des Plantes!" interposed Adhémar; "you say those ladies +used to meet you there?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure. And one day, when I had some very good news to tell +Juliette,—I wanted to tell her that I had succeeded in a new business +undertaking,—as she was not very well, her friend, Madame Dermont, was +kind enough to come alone to our usual place of meeting. I told her that +I had succeeded, and she lost no time in going to tell Juliette the good +news; and it was then that Monsieur Mirotaine, convinced at last that we +were not imposing on him and that I really was able to earn money, +opened his house to me again, and consented to give me his daughter's +hand."</p> + +<p>Dubotté and Dodichet congratulated Lucien. But Adhémar did not say a +word to him; for what he had just heard had produced such a revolution +in his whole being, that he was like one turned to stone, and had not +the strength to speak.<a name="vol_4_page_352" id="vol_4_page_352"></a></p> + +<p>"Well!" said Dubotté, rising and taking his hat; "it is a satisfaction +to me to know that we have all arrived at the goal we had in view. Poor +Dodichet alone has steadily fallen lower and lower. Though, after all, +it's his own fault! He shouldn't have prompted a lover to say: 'Oh! how +you tire me!'—But, no matter; you know my address, Dodichet, don't you? +And when you are—cleaned out, come and dine with me; I always have a +cover laid for an old friend who is in hard luck. Excuse me for leaving +you, messieurs; but I must go and make sure that Callé can take my wife +to the theatre to-night."</p> + +<p>Dubotté having departed, Dodichet prepared to follow his example.</p> + +<p>"No, indeed I wont go and dine with him!" he said. "If I should ever be +too hard up, I wouldn't apply to him. There are some people whose +benefactions are too heavy a load to carry. Au revoir, messieurs! I have +eleven acts to prompt to-night, and I must go to my post—or my +hole—it's the same thing. I sometimes am tempted to take a syringe with +me and prompt with that. That would be a good joke. I think I'll wait +till they play <i>Porceaugnac</i>."</p> + +<p>"I don't ask you to dinner, Dodichet," said Lucien, "but I shall never +forget that you tried to help me. If you ever find yourself without +employment, come to see me; I shall always be able to find you something +at which you can earn your living."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, my boy; a little tobacco with it, and it will be all right."</p> + +<p>"My purse is at your service, Dodichet," said Adhémar.</p> + +<p>"I know it; I know you, my friend! But I am going to try to take care of +myself. Besides, I am very fond<a name="vol_4_page_353" id="vol_4_page_353"></a> of snails now, and they're cheap. I +have a mind to raise them in my hole; that will give me something to do +in the entr'actes. Au revoir, my children!"</p> + +<p>When he and Adhémar were left alone, Lucien said:</p> + +<p>"You haven't congratulated me on my good fortune, on my approaching +marriage. You have a very unhappy look; and yet I know you too well not +to be sure that you are glad for my happiness."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Lucien; yes, I am, indeed! But if you knew what it has cost me! So +it was you whom Madame Dermont went to the Jardin des Plantes to meet?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure. Juliette wasn't able to come that day."</p> + +<p>"Did Nathalie come in a cab?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, she left the cab at the gate; I took her back to it and put her +in, after thanking her for her kindness in coming."</p> + +<p>"Oh! my friend, if you had only told me this sooner! I should not have +suspected a woman whom I adored."</p> + +<p>"I couldn't tell you any sooner, as you had gone to England. I couldn't +go there after you! So you are at odds with Madame Dermont again, are +you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. My infernal jealousy! I wrote her a letter—which was utterly +without sense! I see it now."</p> + +<p>"Have courage! she will forgive you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! it's all over; she can't forgive me again; indeed, I feel that +I don't deserve to be forgiven."</p> + +<p>"Adieu, my dear Adhémar! excuse me for leaving you so soon. But Juliette +is waiting for me, and we have so many preparations to make for our +marriage."</p> + +<p>"Go, my friend, go! Because I am unhappy, I have no wish to delay the +happiness of other people."<a name="vol_4_page_354" id="vol_4_page_354"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="XX-ls" id="XX-ls"></a>XX<br /><br /> +<small>THE LITTLE STREAMS</small></h2> + +<p>Adhémar returned home alone. What he had learned, while it proved to him +that he had wrongfully suspected Madame Dermont's loyalty, caused him +more pleasure than pain, none the less; he was grieved, he was in +despair, because he had broken his repeated promises and had had no +confidence in Nathalie's love; but he was happy, very happy, to know +that she had not deceived him, and to be able to say to himself: "She +did love me!" So that, even in his grief, there was a something that +made his heart beat joyously, and that allayed in some degree the +bitterness of his regrets.</p> + +<p>On reaching home, Adhémar attempted to work. But it is very difficult to +write novels or plays when the heart is full, when a single thought +forces itself constantly on the mind. As he reflected on what his three +friends and himself had done during the past year, he thought:</p> + +<p>"Proverbs are always right: little streams make great rivers; for the +little streams act with equal effect for our good or our ruin. Philémon +Dubotté had a wife who adored him, who would have liked to be always on +his arm; instead of congratulating himself because he had found a +phœnix, he was always on the lookout for opportunities to go about +without his wife; he ridiculed her affection; he left her evening after +evening alone with a young man, who was infinitely more agreeable to her +than her husband was. All these ill-advised acts were<a name="vol_4_page_355" id="vol_4_page_355"></a> the little +streams which were certain to bring about the result which husbands +ought, by every means, to try to avoid.</p> + +<p>"Lucien Grischard was without means; but he had the most useful, the +most reliable of all the elements of fortune: courage, perseverance, +love of work. By dint of patience and privation, he succeeded in +starting a small business, in making himself known, and in winning +esteem by his probity; little by little, he has extended his connections +and increased his business, and, insignificant as it was at first, he +has made it lucrative. All these little streams have carried him on to +his goal—to happiness. He has well earned it!</p> + +<p>"Dodichet had everything that might make a man happy: sufficient means, +health, and high spirits. But an unfortunate mania, an incessant +inclination to make sport of others, to play practical jokes on his +friends and acquaintances, led him into a path where he began by +spending all that he possessed, and ended by living at the expense of +other people. He was so incapable of behaving decently in any sort of +position that he actually found a way to lose his place as prompter at a +provincial theatre; and now he is reduced to poverty, as the result of +all these follies piled one upon another, which some day will carry him +off to the great river. For these <i>blagueurs</i> who are so agreeable in +society often end in that way.</p> + +<p>"As for myself—ah, me! if I am unhappy now, I have only myself to blame +for it. After many unimportant liaisons, I met such a woman as I had +dreamed of, and I had the good fortune to be loved by her; at last I +knew that true, genuine love, which is so sweet to the heart; that love +which leaves so far behind all those mad<a name="vol_4_page_356" id="vol_4_page_356"></a> passions of a moment in which +our youth is drowned. I was happy, ah! yes, very happy! But my infernal +jealousy gave me no rest. Having been deceived a hundred times by women +who did not know the meaning of love, I could not persuade myself that a +woman was really faithful to me. My suspicions were unjust; that was +proved to me several times, and yet it did not prevent me from +conceiving new ones. These insults, so often repeated, have lost me +Nathalie's heart. She has forgiven me many times, but I cannot hope that +she will forgive me again, after that letter, in which, in my frenzy, I +did not hesitate to tell her that her treachery was shameful, when her +only purpose was to ensure Juliette's and Lucien's happiness! And I went +off, without seeing her, without even asking her to explain her conduct! +Oh! ghastly effects of jealousy! I had promised so solemnly to mend my +ways; and, instead of that, I kept repeating my offence! Oh! I did not +deserve to be loved sincerely!"</p> + +<p>And Adhémar, whose arm was resting on his desk, laid his burning head on +his hand; and would perhaps have remained a long while in that position, +had he not felt the touch of a little hand upon his shoulder, while a +well-known voice said to him:</p> + +<p>"And yet, she loves you still, monsieur!"</p> + +<p>The words echoed in the depths of the poor fellow's heart. He raised his +head: Nathalie was beside him, smiling at him and looking into his face +as lovingly as ever.</p> + +<p>He uttered a cry, and stammered:</p> + +<p>"Is it possible? Can it be that you forgive me again?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my friend, I must. Look—at that scar—the burn on your wrist—— +You see that I must forgive you always!"<a name="vol_4_page_357" id="vol_4_page_357"></a></p> + +<p>"Great God! I am afraid that my happiness is a dream."</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur. Lucien came just now and told me how sad and unhappy you +were. I thought that you were punished enough, so I came. Did I do +wrong?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! how good you are! Really I do not deserve to be loved like this!"</p> + +<p>"Are you going to begin again?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! this time, Nathalie, I swear——"</p> + +<p>"Don't swear! Believe me, oaths amount to nothing. It ought not to be +necessary to promise, in order to do what is right."</p> + +<p> +<br /> +</p> + +<p>And now, readers, do you wish to know what has become of the small +number of persons who have played a part in this simple study of +contemporary manners?</p> + +<p>First, Dubotté has continued to be perfectly content; his wife is no +longer constantly clinging to his arm, but lets him go out alone as much +as he pleases. Sometimes, indeed, she refuses to go with him; she has +taken a great fancy to the game of bézique, and young Callé is always +ready to come and play with her.</p> + +<p>Lucien Grischard, on becoming Juliette's husband, did not cease to love +his wife and hard work; consequently, his business is flourishing, and +his married life is one long honeymoon.</p> + +<p>Dodichet, having conceived the droll idea of smoking in his prompter's +hole, set the stage on fire and was found roasted, as a result of his +last practical joke.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Mirotaine, being unable at last to find anybody who cared to +come to his evening parties in winter, where hot cocoa was served to the +company, concluded to provide no other refreshment than that caused by +opening the windows; but when he is invited to breakfast<a name="vol_4_page_358" id="vol_4_page_358"></a> or dine at a +restaurant, he never fails to empty the salt cellars and pepper boxes +into little paper bags which he carries in his pocket.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Brid'oison still goes into ecstasies over his son's skill and +agility in gymnastics. Little Artaban never enters a salon without +making a handspring, and his papa is confident that that fashion will +soon be adopted by the fair sex.</p> + +<p>Madame Putiphar, the dealer in second-hand clothes, still arranges +marriages, in the interest, not of the young ladies concerned, but of +the second-hand cashmere shawls which she slips among the wedding gifts.</p> + +<p>Mademoiselle Boulotte is still trying to make mineral rouge with—no +matter what!</p> + +<p>We all have our inclinations, our <i>little streams</i>, which bear us on, +some toward good, some toward evil. We must try to avoid the latter, and +follow those whose water is pure and whose banks are bright with +flowers: they are the ones that lead to good.<a name="vol_4_page_359" id="vol_4_page_359"></a></p> + +<div class="footnotes"><p class="cb">FOOTNOTES:</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> <i>Ficelle</i>, literally, "packthread": vulgarly, a "trick," or +a "trickster."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> <i>Pochetées</i>—that is, mellowed in the pocket.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_3" id="Footnote_C_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_3"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> <i>Mistigri</i>, <i>misti</i>, or <i>misty</i>: in the game of bouillotte, +the knave of clubs.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_4" id="Footnote_D_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_4"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> <i>Cateau</i>, an abbreviation of Catherine, used among the +common people; vulgarly, a girl of slovenly habits and loose life.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_E_5" id="Footnote_E_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_5"><span class="label">[E]</span></a> There is, or was, a game called <i>brelan</i>; but the term was +sometimes applied, in bouillotte, to a hand consisting of two aces and a +king, when the other king of the same color was turned.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_F_6" id="Footnote_F_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_F_6"><span class="label">[F]</span></a> Substantially a repetition, in thieves' slang, of the +clause beginning: "when the secretary——"</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_G_7" id="Footnote_G_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_G_7"><span class="label">[G]</span></a> As there were but twelve arrondissements in Paris, this +expression was used to denote an illicit connection.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_H_8" id="Footnote_H_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_H_8"><span class="label">[H]</span></a> <i>Atelier</i>—usually, an artist's studio; also, workroom.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_I_9" id="Footnote_I_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_I_9"><span class="label">[I]</span></a> A particular kind of roll.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_J_10" id="Footnote_J_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_J_10"><span class="label">[J]</span></a> The word <i>marron</i>, in the original, has a significance here +that cannot be well rendered in English. It means, variously: an +interloper, a runaway, an unlicensed broker.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_K_11" id="Footnote_K_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_K_11"><span class="label">[K]</span></a> <i>Cerf</i>, stag (in argot, cuckold); <i>cerf-volant</i>, kite (in +argot, thief).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_L_12" id="Footnote_L_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_L_12"><span class="label">[L]</span></a> A female supernumerary in a ballet.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_M_13" id="Footnote_M_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_M_13"><span class="label">[M]</span></a> Street walkers.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_N_14" id="Footnote_N_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_N_14"><span class="label">[N]</span></a> Much obliged.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_O_15" id="Footnote_O_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_O_15"><span class="label">[O]</span></a> Literally, "lioness."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_P_16" id="Footnote_P_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_P_16"><span class="label">[P]</span></a> <i>Miroton</i> is a dish in which onions are freely used.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_Q_17" id="Footnote_Q_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_Q_17"><span class="label">[Q]</span></a> The same French word—<i>broche</i>—means "brooch" and "spit."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_R_18" id="Footnote_R_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_R_18"><span class="label">[R]</span></a> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">Long have I travelled the wide world o'er,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">And you have seen me, and you have seen me.</span></td></tr> +</table> + +</div> + +</div> +<hr class="full" /> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of San-Cravate; or, The Messengers; +Little Streams, by Charles Paul de Kock + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SANS-CRAVATE *** + +***** This file should be named 38001-h.htm or 38001-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/0/0/38001/ + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images available at The Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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