The deed is done! We managed everything without the slightest hitch. I write to you from Paris, from our house in the Rue de Varennes; it seems like years since I was last there, so many things have happened during the six months since I left it. All my surroundings belong to a life so different from my present one, that it requires an exertion of thought to identify myself and realise my position here.
My harem is established in the Rue de Monsieur—in the former "Parc aux Cerfs" of my uncle—a splendid mansion, the gardens of which reach to the Boulevard des Invalides. My uncle has absolutely the genius of an ancient Epicurean transferred by accident into our own century. To look at the street, with its cold and deserted aspect, one might imagine oneself in a corner of aristocratic Versailles. My mystery is safely hidden away there. Mohammed while at Paris is no longer an exiled Minister, but simply a rich Turk who has acquired a taste for European civilisation. His name is Omer-Rashid-Effendi, a name under which he has already passed here twice.
My houris are astonished with all they see, and their pleasure is indescribable. Of course my first care was to Europeanise their toilettes. In pursuance of my orders (for, as you may be sure, I do not appear in such matters) a fashionable dressmaker was sent for by Mohammed. What a business it was! The difficulty was to avoid making them, with their oriental styles and deportments, look stiff and awkward when confined for the first time in the garb of our civilised torture-house.
By a happy compromise between fashion and fancy, the cleverartistehas contrived for them costumes which are marvels of good taste and simplicity. Nothing could be more successful than this metamorphosis; theircoiffurescomplete the picture, and I can hardly recognise my almées under the bewitching little hats worn by our Parisian women. I assure you it is a transfiguration replete with surprises and unexpected charms. Attired like our women of fashion, their striking and original beauty, which was my admiration at El-Nouzha, impresses me in quite a novel manner, which I seem to understand better as I compare them by the side of our own women. Like young foreign ladies of distinction habited in the costumes of our civilisation, they seem to shed around them wherever they go a sort of exotic fragrance.
Everything, of course, had to be changed now that they are in Paris; they could no longer follow the routine of their former existence within the four walls of the harem. They were now at liberty to go out walking, and take little trips; but here at once appeared a most serious difficulty for them to overcome. How could they show themselves in the streets, the Champs Elysées, or the Bois, without their veils just like infidels? That was a serious question! It was impossible for them to make up their minds to such a shameful breach of Mussulman law; and, if I must admit it, I myself experienced a strange sort of revulsion at the thought of it. Yes, to this have I come! Nevertheless, on the other hand, it was quite out of the question for them to shew themselves out of doors enshrouded in their triple veils, attracting wherever they went the remarks of the idle crowd.
At last, after a great many hesitations, Zouhra, who is the bravest of them all, ventured to go out with me, buried in the recesses of a brougham, and protected by a very thick kind of mantilla, which after all was hardly any less impenetrable than ayashmak. Then they grew bolder, and impelled by curiosity, their coquetry getting the better of their bashful timidity, they took a drive one day in a landau to the Bois with Mohammed. I mounted on horseback and met them, without appearing to know them. Everything went off as well as could be.
The carriage which I had purchased is severely simple in style, as is suitable for a foreigner of distinction. In his European disguise Mohammed maintains that expression of serene dignity which so excellently suits his part of a father escorting his three daughters. There is, in short, nothing about the latter to excite attention. If a dark pair of eyes is sometimes distinguishable through the embroidered veils, the fashion, at any rate, permits the features to be sufficiently disguised to conceal the beauty of my sultanas from over-bold glances.
Of course poor Kondjé-Gul, still living away from the others, does not take part in these frolics; but we thus gain some hours of liberty. On the second day, while mywiveswere driving in the Bois, we took our opportunity of going out, like true lovers, arm in arm; it was most delightful!
We went on foot to the Boulevards. You may guess what raptures Kondjé-Gul was in each step we took. It was the first time she had been out with me alone, the first time she had felt herself free and released from the imprisonment of the harem. Many an inquisitive fellow, seeing us pass, and struck with her dignified manner, stopped of a sudden, and tried to distinguish her features through the veil. We quietly laughed at his disappointment.
When we arrived at the Rue de la Paix, we went into some of the well-known jewellers' shops. At the sight of so many marvels, you may guess how she was dazzled. She felt as if in a dream. We spoke in Turkish; and the puzzled shop-keepers gazed in astonishment upon this strange display of Asiatic charms, which they had evidently met with for the first time. All this amused us; and it is unnecessary to add that I quitted these haunts of temptation with a considerably lighter purse than when I entered them.
We have already had several of these little sprees, and nothing can be more fascinating than Kondjé-Gul's childish delight; everything is new to her. Transported, as if by magic, from her monotonous existence at El-Nouzha into the midst of these splendours, this free life, and this animated world, she feels like one walking in a dream; the whole atmosphere intoxicates her.
We form plans innumerable. In the first place we have decided that her position in regard to my wives shall be definitely fixed, and that she shall live henceforth separated from them in another part of the house, where she shall have private attendants. We shall thus be able to see each other without any constraint, and she will no longer be subjected to the sneers of my silly houris, who have been treating her apparent disgrace too brutally since our arrival at Paris. My proud Kondjé-Gul, in the consciousness of her ascendency over me, would be sure to make a scene with them some day.
Besides, as I have already told you, she furnishes me every day with a more and more engrossing subject of study. I should like you to understand what sweet and seductive labour this progressive initiation is; I am watching the development of a mind which I am myself forming. There is no subject in regard to her, not even her receptive intelligence, which fails to afford me innumerable surprises. Sometimes I discover original views and opinions of hers upon matters connected with our European civilisation, at the correctness of which I am absolutely amazed. Her progress is surprising, and she wishes to learn everything, knowing how much is required in order to become "civilised," as she calls it.
My uncle and my aunt are in Paris.
A month without any news, you say. And you talk sarcastically about my leisure, and rally me upon the subject of that famous system, which I used to boast was a simplification of life. If I might judge from your twaddle, you imagine me to be saddled with the very cares and worries from which I justly boasted that I was exempt. You picture me running backwards and forwards, and incessantly occupied with my four wives, so that I have not even time to write to you.
Absurd fancy: this is my real situation.
As soon as my four wives were settled down in their new home, they permitted me much more freedom than did the least burdensome of my former amours. No anxieties now, no jealousies, no fears for the future. They are not like some of those feminine taskmasters who take entire possession of you, forcing you to follow the adored object to the theatre, or take it to the ball, in order to have the pleasure of watching it flirting bare-shouldered with some intimate friend, who will perhaps be its next lover. No, in myrôleof sultan my amours are modestly hidden from profane eyes in the recesses of my harem, and there I am always welcome whenever I choose to come. I keep the key in my pocket. At any hour of the day or night I can go there in my quality of owner without having to leave my club, my friends, my work, or my amusements a moment earlier than I desire.
Such, then, is the "anxious existence" which you attribute to me. Find me a husband who can act in the same way.
Still, as might have been foreseen, great changes have taken place in the internal arrangements of my household, where it became necessary that the Turkish elements should be partially replaced by others more adapted to the exigencies of western civilization.
A memorable event has occurred.
Hadidjé, Nazli, and Zouhra went the other day to the opera. It is needless to say that I was there. I must admit that their nervousness was so extreme at making this bold experiment that, watching them from my own stall as they came in, I thought for a moment that they were going to run away again.
Already in their walks they were getting into training, and in regard to their veils exhibited a certain amount of coquetry; but now it became necessary to disregard the law of Mahomet entirely. They had never seen the inside of a theatre before, so you can imagine that when they found themselves in the box, with their unveiled faces exposed to the gaze of a multitude of infidel eyes, all the bold resolutions which they had made for this decisive effort were put to the rout. Strange as such Mohammedan bashfulness may seem to us, they felt, as they afterwards told me, that appearing there unveiled, was "just like exhibiting themselves naked."
However, as soon as this first impression was overcome, thanks chiefly to the exhortations of Mohammed, who was almost at his wits' ends to manage them, they succeeded in putting on sufficient assurance to dissemble their very sincere dread, so that at a distance it looked merely like excessive shyness. The lifting of the curtain for the first act of "Don Juan" fortunately changed the current of their emotions. During theentr'actetheir box became the object of attraction to the subscribers and the frequenters of first night's performances. Their indolent, oriental type of beauty, notwithstanding the partial disguise effected by their present costumes, could not fail to produce a sensation.
Who, it was asked, was this old gentleman with his three daughters of such surprising beauty? In the Jockey Club's box, where I went to hear the gossip, everyone was talking about them, as of some important political event; Mohammed was an American millionaire, according to some, a Russian prince, or a Rajah just arrived from India, according to others. When I smiled in a significant manner (as I began to do, on purpose), they immediately surmised that I fancied I knew more about the matter than the rest of them, thereupon they surrounded me, and pressed me with questions.
I had already come to the conclusion that it would be better to calm their minds, and thus avoid all inconvenient enquiries. I therefore gave them an account, which after all was not far from the truth, namely, that Omer-Rashid-Effendi was a rich Turk, "whose acquaintance I had the honour of making at Damascus, and who had come to stay at Paris with his family." I thus insured myself against any suspicion of mystery arising in connection with my visits to the house in the Rue de Monsieur, in the event of these coming to light by any chance.
Our relations, you will see, were thus defined once for all. This new life is nothing but a succession of delights to my almées; and I have really now attained the ideal in the way of harems, through the absence of that monotony which is the inevitable result of the system of rigid seclusion. Under the influence of our civilized surroundings, the ideas of my houris are undergoing a gradual transformation. They have French lady's maids, and their study of our refinements of fashion has opened out quite a new world of coquettish charms to them. My "little animals" have grown into women: this single word will convey to you the whole delicious significance of this story of mine, the secret of which you alone in the whole world possess.
As we had decided, Kondjé-Gul has been separated from her over-jealous companions. Hadidjé, Zouhra, and Nazli have taken this measure to be a confirmation of her disgrace, and knowing that she lives in a sequestered corner of the house, they fancy their triumph more assumed than ever. I can place implicit confidence in the discretion of my servants—who wait on us like mutes in a seraglio: consequently Kondjé-Gul and I are as free as possible. When I want to go out with her, I pay a short visit to my wives, and after a quarter of an hour's talk, leave them and go off in my carriage, in the recesses of which my darling reclines. Now you see what a simple device it is and how ingenious; still it involves a certain amount of constraint for me, and an isolation hard to endure for Kondjé-Gul. She reads and devours everything that I bring her in the way of books; but the days are long, and Mohammed, with his time taken up by the others, cannot accompany her out of doors. I therefore conceived the idea of taking her away from the harem altogether, and thus relieving her of the contemptuous insults which my other silly women still find opportunities of inflicting upon her. The difficulty was to procure a chaperon for her, some kind of suitable and reliable duenna whom I could leave with her in a separate establishment; this duenna has been found.
The other day Kondjé-Gul and I were talking together about a little house which I had discovered in the upper part of the Champs Elysées, and of an English governess, who seemed to me to possess the right qualifications for a pretended mother:
"If you like," said Kondjé-Gul, "I can tell you a much simpler arrangement."
"Well?" I replied.
"Instead of this governess whom I don't know, I would much rather have my mother. I should be so happy at seeing her again!"
"Your mother?" I exclaimed with surprise; "do you know where she is then?"
"Oh, yes! for I often write to her."
She then told me all her past history, which I had never before thought of asking her, believing that she had been left alone in the world. It afforded me a complete revelation of those Turkish customs which seem so strange to us. Kondjé-Gul's mother, as I have told you, was a Circassian, who came to Constantinople to enter the service of a cadine of the Sultan. Kondjé-Gul being a very pretty child, her mother had, in her ambitious fancy, anticipated from her beauty a brilliant career for her. In order to realise this expectation, she left her at twelve years old with a family who were instructed to bring her up better than she could have done herself, until Kondjé-Gul was old enough to be sought after as a cadine or a wife.
This hope on the part of her mother was accomplished, as you know, for the girl was purchased for a good round sum by Mohammed. Thus poor Kondjé-Gul fulfilled her destiny. Then she related to me how her mother, several years ago, had found a better situation for herself with a French consul at Smyrna, and had learnt French there.
Kondjé-Gul's idea was a happy one, and I was inclined to entertain it. I consented to her writing to Smyrna, and some days later she received an answer to the effect that in about a couple of months her mother would be able to join her providing the requisite means were sent her for this purpose. I have a house in view where they can live together. It is a little house belonging to Count de Téral, who is on his way back to Lisbon: one might really fancy he had got it ready on purpose for me.
What have you to say to this, you profound moralist?
Again you complain of my silence, in a letter written with the object of overwhelming me with abuse; and you mix up sarcasms (through which your childish curiosity is very transparent) with philosophical remarks which reveal the snobbishness of your nature. In fact, from the tone of your letters, one might imagine I was threatened by strange complications, and that you were hoping every morning to read the account of some catastrophe. For once in a way your longing for an important event will not be disappointed, for I have a weighty piece of news for you. As it belongs to the most strictly moral order of events, you may listen without any anxiety.
As you are aware, my aunt and uncle came to Paris a fortnight ago, and will stay here all the winter. The house in the Rue de Varennes has resumed its gay honours; we give receptions, dinners, and everything else that you are familiar with, but embellished this time by the presence of the charming Countess of Monteclaro, who supplies that lively element of family life which we rather missed formerly. My aunt has discovered here a young cousin of hers, Count Daniel Kiusko, a capital fellow, whom I have quite made friends with.
Having given you these details, I will now proceed with my story.
The other morning, after breakfast, as I was about to return to my room (for whatever you may believe, I am working hard just now), my uncle stopped me, and without any further preliminaries began:
"By the way, André, I expect Madame Saulnier and my god-daughter Anna Campbell, your betrothed, to dinner this, evening. I should not mind letting you make her acquaintance. If you happen to be curious to see her, don't make any engagements at the club, and come home punctually."
"Really!" exclaimed my aunt with a laugh, and without giving me time to answer: "from the way you put it, one might think you were talking of some doll that you intended to offer André for his birthday!"
"What the deuce do you mean by that, my dear?" asked the captain in his imperturbable way.
"I mean," said my aunt, "that this little acquaintance which you wish they should make with each other before you marry them, seems to me a very necessary preliminary."
"Pooh! They've still a good year before them! Besides, this little matter has nothing to do with romance." Then turning to me he continued; "Well, if that suits you for to-day, I have given you notice."
"Capital!" added my aunt. "Well, André! How does it suit you?"
"Why, aunt," I said, laughing in my turn at their little dispute; "I think my uncle may rely equally with you upon the pleasure it will give me."
"All right, that's settled!" continued my aunt in an inimitable tone of hilarity; "at seven o'clock punctually, my dear nephew, you will come and fall in love."
My uncle took no more notice of this last ironical shaft than of the rest, but occupied himself with selecting a cigar, remarking that what he had were too dry. My aunt availed herself of the opportunity of continuing her conversation with me.
"Between you and me," she said, "I may tell you that you are not much to be pitied, for she is a charming girl, and you would really lose a good deal by not making her acquaintance."
"I was only waiting for my uncle to decide the question."
"You must at any rate be grateful to him for letting you meetby chancebefore your wedding-day," she continued.
"Oh, dear! one might think I wanted to marry them at a minute's notice!" said my uncle at these words. "Just like a woman's exaggerations! Perhaps you would have liked me to have introduced her to him before my last voyage, when she was a lass of fourteen, thin, awkward, and gawkish, as you all are at that age."
"Thanks; why don't you say monkeys while you are about it?" replied my aunt with a curtsey.
But my uncle intended to make a speech of it, and continued:
"Who would have left in his mind the disagreeable recollection of a small, flat, angular creature, with arms like flutes, and hands and feet as long as that!"
"Poor little creature! I shudder at the thought of it! However, in your ineffable wisdom, you have fattened her up with mystery."
"Ta, ta, ta!" continued my uncle; "I have made a fine, healthy, solid young woman of her, who promises to make just the right sort of wife for André! And I maintain, in spite of your ideas on the subject, that I have done well to bring them up at a distance from each other, in order to preserve the freshness of their feelings, and avoid the necessity of that awkward and painful transformation of the affections which is so difficult for a couple who have grown up together and eaten their bread and butter together as brats in the nursery. To-day they will find each other just as they ought to before they become husband and wife. All the rest of the business must be left to them. If they like each other very much they will make a love-match, if not, amariage de raison, which is just as good."
My uncle having concluded thus, it only remained for me to signify my compliance with his wishes. As you may well understand, I awaited with impatience the hour for this first interview, and I was in the drawing-room that evening some time before myfiancée'sarrival. My aunt was in the heaven of delight, just like every woman looking forward to a romantic incident, and she did not fail to remark my eagerness. As to the captain, like a being superior to such sentimental trifles, he was quietly reading his paper. He was just commencing a political discussion when the servant opened the folding doors and announced:
"Madame Saulnier and Mademoiselle Campbell."
To tell the truth, I must admit that I felt somewhat nervous. A lady of about forty years old came in, accompanied by a young person in a regulation convent dress. I stood up, while my uncle went forward to meet hisgod-daughter, and kissed her affectionately on the forehead. Then he led me to her by the hand, in a dignified and ceremonious manner, and said without more ado:
"Anna, this is André! André, this is Anna! Kiss each other!"
This form of introduction, with its laconic precision, had at least the advantage that it left no uncertainty between us, and at once indicated to us our proper course of procedure. Too well trained to my uncle's habits, I did not hesitate a moment, but kissed my betrothed; after which I said, "How do you do?" which, of course, gave me a nice opportunity of looking at her.
Anna Campbell is at the present time just seventeen. She is neither short nor tall, thin nor stout—although the great blue ribbon which she wears over her neck, with a cross suspended from it, already sets off the plump outlines of her bosom. She is neither fair nor dark; her chin is round, her face oval, her nose, mouth, and forehead are all medium-sized, and she has rather pretty blue eyes. Generally speaking, she is more pleasant-looking than handsome, and her features on the whole suggest a very gentle disposition united with good health. My uncle took care to impress upon me that she will continue to develop, since her feet and hands are still large for her age, and promise a handsome completion of her growth.
In short, my lot is far from a disagreeable one—quite the contrary. As my uncle expresses it, "All the symptoms are good."
Our dinner was a very lively one. Anna Campbell, although rather subdued in my presence, did not show any embarrassment. Nothing seemed to be new to her; her manners and deportment, and everything about her, revealed the familiar assurance of a child of the family who had come to take a holiday there, and felt herself as much at home as I did. I perceived that she knew the house as well as if she had been brought up in it, and I learnt that during the time when I was at college she and Madame Saulnier had really lived there for three years.
The result of all this was that Anna Campbell exhibited a pleasant sort of familiarity with my aunt and uncle which I did not at all expect to see. Brought up away from each other, and without any previous acquaintance, we were now meeting for the first time at this common centre of our affections, which, unknown to us, had united us since our childhood. This was both original and sweet to think of.
Once, when my uncle asked for the pickles, Anna said:
"They are near André."
When the meal was over we left the dining-room. Following a Russian fashion which my aunt had introduced among us, when we entered the drawing-room, I pressed her hand to my lips, while she kissed me on the forehead. Anna did the same; then, without even appearing to think what she was doing, she quietly held up her two cheeks for me to kiss, and afterwards offered them to her godfather. She then ran to the piano, and sat down to it, while we were taking our coffee.
"Well, what do you think of her?" my uncle asked me.
"She is very nice," I replied.
"Yes, isn't she? Just the thing for you, my boy," he observed, as he stirred his cup, with the tranquillity of a pure conscience. "Go and talk with her," he continued; "you will find she is not stupid."
I went to sit down by Anna.
"Come, play the bass!" she said, moving aside to make room for me, as if we had often played in duet together before.
When the piece was finished, we talked about her convent, her friends, and the Mother Superior, Sainte Lucie, whom she was much attached to; and she spoke about everything in a confident tone of familiarity, which showed me that she had often talked of me, and had been used to think of me as an absent brother. The understanding is that, on account of her youth, our betrothal is to remain a family secret, which will only be made public when the right time arrives.
The evening concluded without any other special incident. At ten o'clock Anna went home to her convent. As she was putting her things on, she held out her hand to me, and said:
"Good-bye, André!"
"Good-bye, Anna!" I replied; and then my uncle took me away with him to the club, where he sat down to his party at whist.
While I am on the subject of my uncle, I must tell you about an adventure which he has just had. He isdead, as you are aware, for I have inherited his property. This privilege he will not give up,because the registration fees have been paid. The result of this peculiar situation is that he is under certain legal incapacities, which, without troubling him more seriously, do nevertheless cause him some annoyance. Three months ago at Férouzat, he had to renew his gun-license, which he had taken out seven years before; but as his decease had been formally entered at the prefecture, they would not accept this document, bearing the signature of a defunct person. As you may imagine, he did very well without it, and began to shoot as if nothing had happened!
The other morning, however, it chanced, as my uncle was passing our banker's, that he wanted to draw twenty thousand francs for his pocket-money. The cashier, who had known him years ago, was very much surprised to see him in the flesh, but represented to him that it was now quite impossible for him to open an account in his name, as he was legally dead and buried. My uncle, like a law-abiding man, admitted the justice of this observation, and I had to intervene in order to arrange the matter for him. He took no further notice of it; only as he never does anything by halves, he had his visiting cards printed with "The late Barbassou" on them; and this was the way he signed himself at our banker's, by which means he pretended that he conformed with all requirements.
"You see how simple the whole thing is," he said to me.
My amours with Kondjé-Gul have certainly taken a very remarkable turn. The other day I took her to Versailles for an educational and historical excursion; she is continuing her course of civilization, you know. After visiting the palace and the museum, we went into the park. She was in the best of spirits, still excited with the fresh air and freedom which she was enjoying like an escaped prisoner from the harem, and was asking me questions about everything with that charming simplicity of hers which delights me so much, when we arrived in front of Diana's Bath, where we found a group of three young women most brilliantly dressed, two of whom, as I saw at the first glance, were old acquaintances of mine, very well known in the gay world. Young Lord B—— accompanied them, and they all recognised me; but Lord B——, with the well-bred tact of a man of the world, seeing the company I was in, only nodded slightly to me. With like discretion, as is usual on such occasions, the women made no movement of recognition; yet they could not help—being struck no doubt with the remarkable beauty of my companion—evincing such evident curiosity, that Kondjé-Gul observed it. I, of course, passed without appearing to notice them. Kondjé-Gul and I then took a turn up the walk, while I expounded the mythology of the bath to her, and then we went out.
"Who are those ladies?" she asked me as soon as we were at a good distance from them; "they know you, I could see."
"Oh, yes," I replied in an indifferent tone, "I have met them several times."
"And the young man who was with them also looked at you as if he was one of your friends; why did not you speak to him?"
"For discretion's sake, because you were with me, and he was walking withthem."
"Ah! I understand," she said; "no doubt they are the women of his harem?"
"Just so," I answered quite coolly, "and, as I have often told you, according to our customs, the harem is always——"
I was trying to think of the right word, when she burst out laughing quite loud.
"What are you laughing at, you silly thing?" I asked.
"I am laughing at all those stories about your harems which you still make up for me just as you used to do for that idiot Hadidjé. I listen to them all, because,—whatever does it matter to me now that I love you! I prefer the happiness of remaining your slave to that of these women, who have no doubt been your mistresses, and whom you don't even condescend to notice when you meet them."
"What?" I exclaimed in astonishment; "have you got to know so much already, you little humbug, and have concealed it from me?"
"After all you have given me to read to form my mind according to your ideas, surely it was natural that I should some day discover the truth! I only waited for an opportunity of confirming my new knowledge," she continued with a smile. "There are still a lot of things in your country which I cannot understand. But you will teach me them now, won't you?" she added in a coaxing tone.
"Oh, you young flirt! It seems to me you know everything already!"
"Why, yes, I feel I know that, for all you may say, I am still no more than a curious toy in your eyes—a strange creature, like some rare bird that you are rather fond of, perhaps, for her pretty plumage."
"Ah! you're right upon the last point at any rate!" I replied with a laugh.
"Yes, sir!" she continued in a satisfied tone of pride, "I know that I am handsome!—Now don't laugh at me," she added with a charming reproachful look; "what I have to say is quite serious, for it comes from my heart. I was born for a different life, for different sentiments to yours, and I know that I possess none of those qualities which they say make the women of your country so attractive. Their ideas and associations are very different to mine, which you call the superstitions of a young barbarian, and which I want to forget in order to learn to understand you and to have no rivals."
"Are you quite sure that you would not lose by the change?"
"Thank you," said Kondjé-Gul; "that's what I call a compliment."
"The fact is," I replied, "the very thing I like about you is that you do not in any way resemble the women whom we have just met."
"Oh!" she said, with an indescribable gesture of pride, "it's notthosewomen I envy! But I see others whom I would like to resemble—in their manners and tone, of course. If you're a nice fellow, do you know what you will do for me?"
"What?"
"It's a dream, a scheme which I have been continually thinking over. You won't laugh at me, will you?"
"No. Let's hear your grand scheme."
"Well, then, if you would like to make me very happy, place me for a few months in one of those convents where your young ladies are educated. You would come and see me every day, so that I should not be too dull away from you."
"That's the queerest idea I have ever heard from you; fancy a Mahommedan girl at a convent!" I said, with a laugh.
I took a great deal of trouble in explaining to her what a foolish project this was; but the result of my attempts at demonstrating the serious obstacles which such ambitious aspirations would encounter, was that in the end I myself entered into her views. The experiment might indeed prove a most instructive one. With Kondjé-Gul's character, there was an extremely interesting psychological experiment before me. I had found her to be endowed with marvellous natural qualities. With her ardour and enthusiasm, what would be the effect upon her simple imagination of a sudden transition from the ideas of the harem to the subtle refinements of our own society?
Certainly, I was obliged to admit that such a trial was not without its dangers; but then, was not Kondjé-Gul already aware that the marital yoke which my houris still believed in was only imaginary? And was it not better, such being the case, for me to complete this work of regeneration, the fruits of which I should in the end reap for myself?
So I submitted to Kondjé-Gul's wishes, and as soon as we returned to Paris this important matter was settled.
The next day I began to look for the means of carrying it into execution, a search which was attended, however, with a good many difficulties.
My uncle is going to send for another of my aunts to come to Paris.
Well! what of that?—My uncle is a Mussulman, you know; and, being a man of principle, his duties are more onerous than yours, that's all!
My services were required to take a little house at Passy, where she is to live. I wonder whether it is my aunt Gretchen, my aunt Euphrosine, or my aunt Cora? He has not given me the slightest hint on this point.
While awaiting this addition to our family, Barbassou-Pasha pursues his eccentric career in a manner that beats description. This visit to Paris has brought out more than ever the quaint independence of his character. One is reminded of a man who stands on a bridge watching the river flow by, but now and then takes a header into it to cool himself. The other day at the club, he lost sixty-three thousand francs to me at baccarat, just for a little distraction. The evening after, he was entertaining at our house his late Lieutenant Rabassu, whom he always speaks of as "the cause of his death," and who has come here upon some business. He won eleven francs from him at piquet, playing for a franc the hundred points. For the moment I felt quite alarmed for the poor victim! But my mind was soon set at ease; for Rabassu, who is used to his captain's play, knows how to cheat as cleverly as his master. Their losses soon balanced each other.
Putting aside little dissipations of this kind, I should add that "the late Barbassou" is really very steady-going for a man of his temperament. He takes everything which comes in the routine of our fashionable life so naturally, that nobody would imagine he had spent several years at the hulks in Turkey.
My aunt Eudoxia, of whom he stands in wholesome awe, and who keeps him in check, forces him to cultivate the vanities of this world. He escorts her to balls and fêtes with all that ceremony with which you are familiar; and quitting the lofty regions of his own philosophical existence, without however permitting anything to disturb his self-possession, he goes forth into the gay and hurried throngs of Paris with as little concern as he would into any village street. In short, he is in exquisite form, and—but for the legal disabilities which deprive him of his rights of citizenship—you would find him still exactly what he was when you knew him five years ago.
However, the other day he received a little shock in connection with a very simple incident, which might have been perfectly anticipated.
We were in my aunt's box at the Opera. The pasha, seated by her side, was listening to a singer who was rather more buxom than elegant; and he appeared to be calculating what her nett weight would be, after making deduction for her queen's crown and robes of state. After a minute or so, he seemed to have solved this equation and lost all further interest in the problem, for he began to examine the audience. All of a sudden he shouted out, quite forgetting himself, in his Provençal brogue:
"Té!What's that I see?"
"Hush!" said my aunt, nudging him with her elbow, without turning round.
"But,bagasse!it's Mohammed!" he added, in a lower tone.
It was indeed Mohammed, who attracted some attention as he walked with my houris into their famous box.
"Well, you're right," replied my aunt. "I recognise his charming daughters."
You may be sure my uncle put up his glasses. When all my people were settled down in their box, he surveyed them carefully, interrupting his examination occasionally in order to take a furtive scowl at me. But my aunt's presence kept him quiet. His composure was perfect for that matter, except that he seemed extremely puzzled. There were only three of them—that evidently was not the right number for him. As for me, prudence dictated that I should get out of the way as quickly as possible, leaving him to make what observations he pleased.
As I was slipping away quietly to the back of the box, I heard my aunt saying:
"Are you going to speak to him?"
"No; we have had a quarrel!" he growled, looking again for me at his side.
But slam went the door, and I was out in the passage, whence I escaped to the back of the scenes and to the green-room. There he joined me during theentr'acte. But, as you are aware, "Turks do not discuss harem matters." All I could see clearly was that he was in a fury with me.
To turn, however, to other things, my perseverance on behalf of Kondjé-Gul is at last rewarded with complete success.
After I had spent a whole week in looking about, I found, in the Beaujou district, an institution for young ladies presided over by a Madame Montier, a kind woman of polished manners. She had suffered a reverse of fortune, which seems to have prepared her for the express purpose of civilizing my Kondjé-Gul. There are never more than three or four boarders in the house: at the present moment two American girls, daughters of a commodore who is on a mission to the King of Siam, are finishing their education there. Nothing could suit my purpose better.
When the time arrived, however, for putting my plan into execution, I must confess that I could not help feeling considerable embarrassment. I could certainly have introduced Kondjé-Gul as a young foreign lady, prematurely widowed, who was anxious to qualify herself for French society; but I soon found that this would create an unnecessary complication. Decidedly the better course would be for Mahommed to introduce her either as his ward or his daughter. Under any circumstances it was desirable that I should explain to her the necessity of extreme prudence.
At last, one evening, when I thought she was about to revert to this great object of her ambition, I started the subject myself.
"I am going to announce an important piece of news," I said to her; "I have found a convent for you where you can stay pending your mother's arrival."
"Really!" she exclaimed, kissing me. "Oh, my dear André, how kind you are!"
"Yes; but I must warn you. This realisation of your dream is only possible at the cost of sacrifices, which will perhaps be hard for you to make."
"What sacrifices? Tell me, quick!"
"First, assiduous work, and next, the sacrifice of your liberty; for during the whole time you remain at this establishment, you won't be able to leave the place."
"What does that matter?" she exclaimed, "provided I can see you every day!"
"But that's exactly what will be impossible."
"Why?" she asked, in her simplicity.
"Because, according to our customs, bachelors are never admitted into young ladies' schools," I replied, with a laugh.
"But as I belong to you," she continued, with an astonished look, "they will not be surprised at your coming; are not you my master?"
"This reason, my dear, although a convincing one for you, would constitute the greatest obstacle; for they must not be allowed on any account to suspect that you are my wife. Mohammed alone will introduce you either as his daughter or as a young lady under his charge, and, for conventional reasons, which you will understand later on, this period of study will be a period of separation for us."
I then let her know the whole truth about certain of our social conventionalities, concerning which she was still in ignorance. When she learned that our laws declared her free, and the equal of any Frenchwoman, and that I had no longer any rights over her, she looked inexpressibly pained.
"Good heavens!" she exclaimed, throwing herself into my arms, "what do you mean? Am I free, and my own mistress, and not yours for ever?"
"You are mine, because I love you," I said to her very quickly, seeing her agitation; "and so long as you do notwantto leave me—"
"Leave you! But what would become of me, then, without you?"
And her eyes filled with tears.
"What a foolish girl you are!" I replied, quite touched at her evident pain; "you are exaggerating the significance of my words: your liberty will make no difference in our relations."
"Why did you tell me this cruel truth, then? I was so happy in the belief that I was your slave, and in obeying and loving you at the same time."
"Still it was necessary for me to tell you, as you wish to learn our ideas and customs. Your ignorance was a source of danger, for even your questions might lead to the betrayal of relations which must remain a mystery for the rest of the world, and, above all, in the 'pension,' where you are about to live with companions."
I had some difficulty in consoling her for this terrible discovery that our laws do not recognise slavery. Nevertheless, her desire for further instruction remained very keen.
Finally, two days afterwards, Mademoiselle Kondjé-Gul entered Madame Montier's institution, having been presented by her guardian, the worthy Omer-Rashid-Effendi, who made all the necessary arrangements with the majestic dignity which he displays on every occasion.
Although I have kept myself carefully in the background in all this matter, I watch its progress just the same, and superintend everything. Every evening Kondjé-Gul writes to her guardian, and I get her letters at once: I can assure you they constitute quite an interesting romance. For a whole week Kondjé-Gul, who had been rather overawed at first and astonished at all her new surroundings, seemed to live like one dazed. She would not trust herself to speak, fearing to appear uncultivated; but she observed, and the results of her observations were most curious. After that I perceived that she was gradually trying her wings; for when she had been initiated a few days into her new life, she soon abandoned her reserve, and has by this time passed the first step in her emancipation. Her simplicity of character, and her quaint Oriental manners, have secured her some very cordial friendships; and nothing can be more charming than the accounts she gives me of her devotion for her friends, Maud and Suzannah Montague, who are the realisation of perfection in her eyes.
Of course Kondjé-Gul's educational programme, as fixed by me, is confined within very modest limits. It consists of music, history, and a slight and general acquaintance with literature. But above all she is expected to acquire that indispensable familiarity with our ideas, and those feminine graces and refinements which can only be learnt by contact with women and girls brought up in good society. A few months at Madame Montier's will be sufficient for this purpose, and the cultivation of her mind can be completed later on by private lessons.
My harem in the Faubourg St. Germain retains its Oriental aspect; it is a corner of the world described in the "Arabian Nights," where I indulge from time to time, in the midst of Paris, in the distractions of a vizier of Samarcand or Bagdad. There, when the shutters are closed, in mygynæceum(or women's apartment), illuminated by lamps which shed a soft lustre upon us, while the bluish-grey smoke from my narguilé perfumes the atmosphere, my houris lull me to sleep to the music of their taraboucks.
With all this I am not quite so satisfied, as I would have liked to describe myself, with certain incidents which have occurred in connection with my harem. Certainly, they are all the natural consequences of our life in Paris; for I don't suppose you imagine that I had not foreseen the psychological effect which entirely new ideas would unavoidably produce upon the profoundly ignorant minds of my houris. Besides, a progressive and judicious emancipation from their previous restraints formed part of my programme for them. But the introduction into the harem of certain high-class lady's-maids, indispensable for initiating my little animals into the subtle mysteries of Parisian toilets, has of necessity led to their making a number of discoveries, which have contributed in a remarkable degree to their civilization:—hardly, however, in those elements which I could have most desired. They have all of them got to know a great deal more than was necessary for them about those famous "customs of our harems in France," the principles of which I had endeavoured to teach them. Thus I even noticed the other day that I set Zouhra and Nazli laughing when I reminded them of some point of etiquette. Although they are still imbued with the good principles of their native education, it is evident they are being corrupted by the poison of Liberalism. This I am convinced of by certain airs of assurance which they have put on, by their coquetries, and by novel and unexpected caprices which they now display.
The "Rights of Woman" have clearly been divulged to them. They talk of walking out by themselves, of visiting the popular theatres and music-halls, and even Mabille, the illuminations of which struck their fancy very much the other night, as we were passing the Avenue Montaigne in the carriage, on our way back from the Bois. One little instance will illustrate the situation for you. Mohammed's rank and titles have ceased to impress them with any respect; and the day before yesterday Zouhra actually had the impudence to say "Chut!" to him.
This expression will clearly indicate to you an astonishing progress in the refinements of our language; but it will also, no doubt, afford you a text upon which to declaim in that cruelly sarcastic style which your Philistine genius revels in. I will, therefore, anticipate you by replying:
In the first place, that Mohammed does not understand French—a fact which considerably diminishes the gravity of Zouhra's disrespect;
In the second, that I never doubted but what their stay in Paris would open my houris' minds to new ideas;
And in the third, that neither did I doubt but what they would acquire, in consequence, more precise notions upon the extent of their rights.
Woman, like any other animal susceptible of education, possesses the most subtle faculties of imitation. Now if, her weak nature being overcome by those impulses towards mischief and malice with which she is peculiarly endowed, she is tempted to commit trivial derelictions of conduct—derelictions which, after all, are but faults of discernment—is there any reason why we should make such a fuss about it?
In the midst of the supremely refined existence which my sultanas lead, I seem to discover in these innocent little vagaries a frank simplicity of character, more nearly related to purity of conscience than are the accomplished manners of our most polished coquettes.
While on this subject I must reply to the sarcasms contained in your last letter.
Let me tell you first of all that I have never laid claim to the character of a superior being inaccessible to human vanities, as you are trying to make out. I am quite willing to admit with you that I, like any other man, am possessed by "the stupid satisfaction which every man experiences in watching the success of the woman he loves." It is quite possible that the effect produced by my odalisques upon the idle crowd (or as you term itla haute badauderie) of Paris, has suddenly invested them with new charms in my eyes. You say that the mystery with which they are enshrouded, and the silly conjectures which I hear people make about them as they pass by, have excited me and turned my head like that of a simpleton.
Well, I suppose you will hardly expect me to account for the human weakness which leads us to measure our own happiness by the degree of envy which it excites in others? Besides, what is the good of sifting my passion or testing my love in a crucible in order to estimate its value?
In the midst of my pagan indulgences, you ask me if I really love, in the usual sense of that word. This very reasonable question was at any rate worth asking, however simple it may seem. It is concerned with the great problem in psychology which I undertook to solve, namely, as to which predominates in love, the heart or the senses, and whether true love is possible when one loves four women at the same time?
It is clear that in the restricted limits of our ideas, and under the yoke of our customs and prejudices, we can only conceive of passion as concentrated upon a single object. Too far removed from our primitive origin and from the patriarchal age, and moulded by the influences of more refined customs, our minds have been stimulated to the contemplation of a certain recognized ideal. Still, as moralists and philosophers, we must admit that among Orientals there is, doubtless, another conception and another ideal of love, the character of which we cannot grasp. It is only by divesting ourselves of our moral clogs, or the restraints of our social conventionalities, that we can attain to the understanding of this lofty psychological problem. Indeed, no one has ever been able to say what love consists in. "Attraction of two hearts," say some, and "mutual exchange of fancies;" but these are nothing but words depending upon the particular instance in which they are employed.
The truth is that we are full of inconsistencies in all our definitions. From a purely sentimental point of view, we start by laying down, as an absolute axiom, that the human heart can only embrace one object of love, and that man can only fall truly in love once in his life. Yet if we abstract from love the distinct element which our senses contribute to it, it is seen to consist of nothing but a form of affection—an expansion of the soul analogous to friendship and to paternal or filial love, sentiments equally powerful, but which we recognize the duty of distributing between several objects.
Whence arises this strange contradiction?
Do not declare that it is a paradox, for our ideas on the subject proceed entirely from our education and from the influence of custom upon our minds. If we had been bred on the banks of the Ganges, of the Nile, or of the Hellespont, our school of æsthetics would have been different. The most romantic Turkish or Persian poet could not understand the vain subtleties of our emotions. Since his laws permit him several wives, it is his duty to love them all, and his heart rises to the occasion. Do you mean to tell me that his is a different love to ours? Upon what grounds? What do you know about it? Cannot you understand the charms of the obligation he is under to protect them all, in this equal distribution of his affections? It comes to this, in fact, that our ideas on the point are simply and always a question of latitude and of climate. We love like poor helpless creatures of circumstances.
It is these very psychological considerations which form the basis of the social argument which I intend to demonstrate in the important work which I am preparing for the Academy of Science, and which I introduce as follows:—
"Revered Mother,
"Among the learned and celebrated members of whom your illustrious Society so justly boasts, the most competent have already determined to their satisfaction the general principles which should regulate the study of biology. It would be the height of presumption on my part to set up my unworthy opinion against theirs, were it not for the fact that I can adduce, as a justification for doing so, certain data in my own possession which very few, probably, of these highly-respected authorities could have procured under such favourable conditions as I have been enabled to do. As the nephew of a Pasha I have, &c."
As you perceive, this modest preface is well calculated to soothe the delicate susceptibilities of the Institute.
The civilization of my Kondjé-Gul has become quite the most delightful subject of study for me. It presents a complete romance in itself, and the denial which I have imposed upon myself adds a certain charm to it. I must tell you that her stay with Madame Montier has gradually produced a number of unforeseen complications. Commodore Montague has returned; one of the consequences of which is that the intimacy between the Misses Maud and Suzannah Montague and the ward of worthy Omer-Rashid-Effendi, which has seemed to him a most desirable one, has been so much encouraged that they have become inseparable, and Kondjé-Gul has of course been invited by her young friends to entertainments given by their father—invitations which she has been unable to decline for fear, thereby, of arousing suspicions.
Discretion on my part, you will thus perceive, has become more than ever necessary, so long as Kondjé-Gul remains with Madame Montier. Our amorous relations are absolutely reduced to epistolary effusions, and to clandestine meetings, to bring about which we have recourse to all the stratagems employed by separated lovers. There is a certain piquancy in these adventures which affords us much delight—so true is it that the deprivation of a pleasure enhances its value. In the morning Kondjé-Gul takes riding-lessons in the Bois with Maud and Suzannah, who are accompanied by their father. I sometimes take a canter that way, in order to watch their party ride by. She looks charming in her riding-habit, and the Montague girls are really very pretty, especially Maud, who has a pert little playful expression which is very fascinating.
I forgot to tell you that Kondjé-Gul's mother, Murrah-Hanum, has arrived. She is a woman of forty-five, tall, with a distinguished bearing, and rather handsome still. Yet although she has been Europeanized by her residence at the French consul's at Smyrna, and speaks our language almost with fluency, she retains in her manners all the peculiarities of the Circassian and the Asiatic; she has an easy-going and indolent temperament, and in her large dark eyes you can read the stern resignation of the fatalist races. When she appeared before me, she lavished upon me, in Oriental fashion, the most ardent expressions of devotion. I assured her of my desire to secure to her a share in all the advantages which I wished to confer upon Kondjé-Gul. She expressed her gratitude with calmness and dignity, and swore to observe towards me the submissive obedience which she owed to her daughter's husband. In short, you can picture the interview for yourself; it was characterized by all the florid effusiveness of Mahommedan greetings.
I don't suppose you will be astonished at a curious encounter which has just taken place.
I must tell you that in my uncle's character while in Paris, Barbassou-Pasha, General in the Turkish cavalry, predominates over Captain Barbassou the sailor. He takes a ride every morning, and I of course accompany him. These are our occasions both for intimate talks and for discussing serious questions; and I beg you to understand that my uncle's notions upon the latter are by no means ordinary ones. He adorns such questions with quite original views—views which are certainly not the property of any other mortal known or likely to be known in this world below. He starts a subject for me, and I give him the cue as well as I can. I know of nothing more instructive than to follow his lines of argument—he has a separate one for each subject—upon different departments of private and political life, judged from his own standpoint. As a legislator I fancy he would commit radical mistakes; but as a philosopher, I doubt very much if a match could be found for him, for I don't think that his methods can be compared with those of any existing school of thought.
The other morning we went to the forest of Mendon; my uncle, as a lover of the picturesque, considers that the Bois de Boulogne, with its lake, looks as if it had been taken out of a box of German toys. We arrived at Villebon, a sort of farm situated in the middle of the forest, with a few fields attached to it. There is a restaurant there, which is much frequented on Sundays during the summer.
My uncle, enchanted with the place, wanted to stop and take his glass of madeira there. So, leaving our horses in charge of a stable-boy, we went into one of the rooms. At a table at the further end, quite a stylish-looking woman, who looked as if she were out with somebody on the spree, was sitting by herself, finishing a liqueur-ice, with her hat off and lying by her side. Her figure, as viewed from the back, was exquisite, with graceful and well-set shoulders, an elegantly poised neck with a lovely little dimple on the nape, crowned by a luxuriant chignon, from which emerged a profusion of rebellious tresses——.
"Waiter! Madeira, please!" shouted my uncle in his formidable bass voice.
At this unexpected explosion, the strange lady jumped up from her chair and looked suddenly round. But directly she saw the captain, she screamed out and fainted away all at once.
I must do my uncle the justice of admitting that when he noticed the remarkable effect he had produced, he exhibited a slight gesture of surprise; which, however, soon passed off. Without calling any help, in four strides he reached the lady's side, and supported her against the table, raising up her pretty head which had fallen back, and slapping her hands. Then, having satisfied himself that she had completely lost consciousness, he began without any more ado to unfasten her dress, tore open her collar, and, with admirable dexterity, unhooked the upper part of her stays—thereby revealing to our gaze two charming globes, imprisoned in lace.
This spectacle, I avow, might have made any other man pause in his zealous operations,—not so my uncle, however; he did not think twice about it, but with his usual unconcerned air proceeded to open out the fair one's stays, then took up the water-bottle, and emptied it with one dash into the hollow between her rounded charms.
A convulsive start, and another scream, indicated immediately the successful effect of this triumphant measure.
"There!" he said to me, "you see that's all that was needed."
Just at this moment the gentleman who belonged to the lady came in. It is hardly necessary to add that when he saw my uncle occupied upon a business so distinctly his own, the new-comer evinced some temper.
"Bon Dieu!" he shouted out as he rushed forward, "What's the meaning of this? What's the meaning of this?"
"Nothing serious!" answered the pasha. "Your lady has simply been in a swoon, nothing more; it's all over now!"
"But what have you been about, sir? What do you mean by throwing water like that, right upon people's bosoms—?"
"It was all to do you a service," replied this saviour, quite composedly.
The lady, for her part, looked as if she was going off in another fit, but my uncle, judging no doubt that he had fulfilled his part of the duties, and without troubling himself any further about the mingled alarms and stares of the people of the house who came up, made one of his ceremonious bows to the whole company, and took me away with him, saying,
"Come, let us drink our madeira."
So we went out.
Being accustomed to Barbassou-Pasha's ways, I was certainly not surprised at such a trifle as this. The waiter having served us, ten minutes had elapsed, and while we were discussing the irreparable loss of the Xerez and Douro vines, all of a sudden the door opened. It was the lady's cavalier, and he came in raging like a storm.
"Bagasse!" he exclaimed with a furious look, and his hair bristling up like a porcupine. "But you won't get off quite so easily as that, sir! Who ever heard of such a thing? Undressing a defenceless woman like that, and quite a stranger too!! Not to mention that you have spoilt her dress, which looks as if she had been under the pump!"
His words rolled on like a torrent, in the purest Provençal accent. This made my uncle smile, as if at some pleasant reminiscence; and putting on his most engaging expression, he asked the new-comer in a gentle tone of voice:
"What are you to this lady?"
"She is my sister-in-law, sir!" he replied in a fury, his voice swelling louder and louder: "She is my brother's wife, sir; and he's no fool, no more am I, sir!—--Twenty-one years of service, eleven campaigns, and sub-lieutenant of the Customs at Toulon, sir!—--So you shall just let me know how it was my sister-in-law fainted through your fault; and what you meant by taking the liberty of exposing her in a way that no decent man would be guilty of, not even with the consent of her family, nor if she were in mortal danger of her life, sir!"
"And where do you live?" continued my uncle, sipping his madeira, and still fixing upon the fair one's brother-in-law the same charming gaze.
"Hôtel des Bouches-du-Rhone, Rue Pagevin. I am escorting my sister-in-law, and I am responsible for her to her husband."
"My compliments to you, sir! She is a charming young person."
This magnificent composure of my uncle's so completely disconcerted the lieutenant of the Customs that he stopped short. But he had been carried on too far by his hot meridional temper not to launch out again very soon. He followed up with a perfect flood of abuse, interlarded with the most approved insults, with violent epithets and noisy oaths. My uncle listened to him quietly, stroking his chin, and contemplating him as if watching the performance of some surprising feat. The Toulonnais said that he considered this fainting fit of his sister-in-law's, and the very unceremonious proceedings which had followed it, equally suspicious and irregular.
"My brother's honour has been outraged," and so on, he observed.
But at last the good fellow was obliged to pause in order to take breath. Barbassou-Pasha took advantage of the opening.
"Pray what isyourname?" he asked, still smiling affably.
"My name, my good man," loftily replied the man of Toulon, "is Firmin Bonaffé, lieutenant in the Customs, seen twenty-one years of service and eleven campaigns. And if that is not enough for you——"
"Why, dear me! then this charming young person has married your brother, has she?"
"A week ago, sir, at Cadiz, where she lives! It was because he had to go back over the sea to Brazil that he confided her to my charge. And you must not imagine that I can let your outrageous behaviour to her pass without further notice, sir!"
"You are a man of spirit, sir, that I can see!" replied my uncle. He was gradually falling into his nativeassent, charmed, no doubt, by the soothing example of his adversary. "I can understand your feelings," he continued; "and for my part, my good fellow, I confess I should not have the slightest objection to taking a sabre and slicing off a piece of your person." (He uttered this latter word,individu, in French, with the Marseillais pronunciation,inndividu.) "Indeed," he continued quite placidly, "I should have no objection to throwing you through the window here, just as you are."
This, following upon his imperturbable coolness throughout, had, I can aver, a most aggravating effect. Being a little man and a braggart, Firmin Bonaffé felt the insult all the more hotly.
"Throw me through the window?Me!" he exclaimed, drawing himself up as if he wanted to touch the sky. "Try then! Just try!"
"By-and-by," said my uncle, pacifying him with a good-humoured gesture; "but for the present let us have a talk, my good fellow! Certainly I sympathise with your annoyance; for you must have perceived that I know this lady, and that she knows me. There has even been a littleliaisonbetween us——"
"Bagasse!You confess to it, then?"
"I confess to it!" responded the captain, in a conciliatory manner. "But, my dear fellow, a brother's horns, as the saying goes, need not trouble one so much as one's own. You will of course agree with me on that point."
"I agree with you there!" replied the Toulonnais, quite gravely, as if struck by a specious argument. "But it does not follow from that——"
"Stop a moment!" interrupted my uncle, who wished to pursue his argument. "I, whom you see here, have also had the honour of being made a cuckold, as they say in Molière. You are acquainted with Molière, I dare say?"
"I am; go on!" said the lieutenant, who had made up his mind to restrain himself while my uncle was developing his explanations.
"Very well! as you have read him, you ought to know that a misadventure like that is not such a great matter after all. A second or two and it is all over, just like having a tooth out. Besides, remember this, the tooth cannot be replaced, while in the case of a woman, one can find plenty to take her place."
"That's true!" returned Firmin Bonaffé, who opened his eyes wide, as if he wished to follow this chain of reasoning, which evidently astonished him by its perspicuity.
The issue began to be cleared.
"Then we have arrived at the same opinion," continued Barbassou Pasha. "All that remains is to come to an understanding."
"By no means! by no means! I repeat, my brother confided his wife to my charge. You have insulted her in public, and in the name of decency—"
"Oh, no!" interrupted my uncle; "you are exaggerating! In the first place, my nephew and I were the only persons present; therefore there was no very great harm done. Then you brought the people up by your shouting; consequently it is I who have cause to complain."
"Té!Are you trying to make a fool of me?" exclaimed the Toulonnais, bursting out upon us like a bomb with another explosion. "Do you suppose, then, that I am going down on my knees to thank you for having undressed Jean Bonaffé's wife?"
"Jean Bonaffé's wife? No, no, my good fellow!" briefly replied my uncle.
"Why 'No'?"
"Why, in the first place, because she is actually my own wife!"
"Yours?"
"As I have the pleasure of informing you. And consequently it is I who would be entitled not to be at all pleased by your intervention in the little domestic occurrence which took place just now."
The Toulonnais, for the moment, was struck dumb with astonishment.
"Then,bagasse!who are you?" he asked.
"The lateBarbassou, retired general, seen fifty years of service, and thirty-nine campaigns, and the husband of your sister-in-law, who is now a bigamist—rather an awkward mistake for a lady."
My uncle might have gone on speaking for the rest of the day, and had it all his own way. The unfortunate lieutenant stared at him, crushed and dumbfounded by this astounding revelation. All at once, and without waiting to hear any more, he turned on his heels, and beat a precipitate retreat by the door.
The late Barbassou indulged in a smile at this very intelligible discomfiture of his adversary. He had finished his madeira, and we went out to get our horses again.
Directly he had mounted into the saddle, he said to me, reverting to the subject of our interrupted conversation:
"Do you know, I think it's all up with the Madeira vines; but as to those of the Douro, with careful grafting, we might still pull them through!"
"I hope so, uncle!" I replied.
And, as a matter of fact, I think he is right. Perhaps we shall soon know.
Come, I must tell you about a new occurrence which is already influencing my romance in the most unexpected manner.
I don't suppose you have forgotten our Captain Picklock and the famous story of the camels which were recovered through his good offices. Well, the captain, having returned from Aden with the fever, and being at Paris on his way home, accepted the hospitality of Baron de Villeneuve, late consul at Pondicherry, whom you know. Two days ago we were invited to a farewell dinner, given in his honour. It was quite a love-feast: half a dozen friends, all of whom had been several times round the world, and had met each other in various latitudes. The ladies consisted of the amiable Baroness de Villeneuve, Mrs. Picklock, and my aunt. You may imagine what a number of old recollections they discussed during dinner. After the coffee we went into the drawing-room, where a card-table was being set out for whist, when my uncle said: