"She isn't thirsty!" said Chamoureau to himself; "I doubt if I could find another like her in the whole ball!"
And he became the more urgent:
"But do at least take a bonbon."
"You are very polite, monsieur; I don't like to keep refusing."
"I trust you will not."
"I will take a stick of candy."
And the black domino selected one of the smallest, which cost only three francs, thereby putting the finishing touch to Chamoureau's delight. He offered his arm to his conquest once more, saying:
"In that case, if you are free, charming stitcher, will you do me the honor to sup with me and a few of my friends, who will also have ladies with them—that is to say, I assume that they will."
"Yes, monsieur, certainly, and with pleasure."
"You are fascinating! I feel that I love you dearly already."
"And I, too; I shall be very glad to make your acquaintance."
"Do you mean it? Then my appearance is not disagreeable to you?"
"Ah! I should be very hard to suit, if I did not think you a very handsome man! Monsieur must be accustomed to attracting women!"
Chamoureau turned redder than his rouge; the corridor had become too narrow for him; he placed his cap more on one side, pulled up his boot-flaps, and seemed to be walking on a spring-board, ready to jump.
"I don't know whom those fellows will bring to the supper," he said to himself, "but I'll wager that their conquests won't hold a candle to mine! I have an idea that this slender creature resembles the Madonnas we see in the pictures of our greatest masters. However, I'll find out about that; she's a good-natured body, and Iam sure that she'll unmask as soon as I ask her to.—Let's go down to the ball-room," said our widower, taking his domino's hand; "we shall find my friends there; they are great jokers; they like the galop and are quite capable of dancing it.—Are you fond of dancing, my dear?"
"I am willing to do whatever anyone wishes, monsieur."
"That's very pleasant in company. In that case, if I ask you to remove this mask—that conceals your features, you will not refuse, will you?"
"Take off my mask! oh, no! I won't take off my mask here; I will at home."
"I presume that you don't keep it on at home; but what is there to prevent your taking it off a moment here, while we are walking in this corridor? You may put it right on again, if you please."
"But why do you want me to take it off?"
"I have just told you: because I long to look upon your features. That is a very natural desire—and since you have admitted that my face was not displeasing to you——"
"Oh! no, monsieur! far from it!"
"I am persuaded yours will be most pleasing to me."
"Oh! I am not very beautiful!"
"I will wager that you say that from modesty; at all events, it is not necessary to be very beautiful in order to please; there are some bright, saucy little faces that are far preferable to regular beauties."
"I have an odd face."
"Well! odd faces are included in what I have just said. Do take off that horrible mask!"
"Oh, no! I don't want to; I won't take it off till after supper, because I am a little less bashful when I have drunk a little pure wine."
"What! do you intend to eat supper with your mask on?"
"Why not?"
"It would bother you a good deal while eating."
"Oh, no! I can turn up the barb."
"Take off your mask, pretty stitcher! I am sure that you're lovely enough to paint, and you postpone it only to make your triumph all the greater."
"I won't take off my mask now; no, monsieur, I'm determined on that!"
"She's very obstinate about it!" said Chamoureau to himself, as he escorted his conquest to the ball-room; "it's simply to increase my desire, to inflame my imagination! Female cunning! I know what that is!"
At the moment that the Spaniard and the domino stepped into the space between the ball-room and the stage, a general galop began—one of those monster galops in which the torrent of dancers rushes and leaps and roars to the strains of music which would make mummies dance. Freluchon and Edmond soon whirled by Chamoureau, the first with his arm about a Marquise Pompadour, the second with his littledébardeur. The sight electrified our widower, who said to his domino:
"Suppose we venture? what do you say?"
"I ask nothing better."
With that, the lady threw her arm about her escort and they plunged into the infernal galop. Then they had no choice but to go with the crowd, the torrent; for woe betide the man who stops! He is instantly thrown down by those who come behind.
But the Spaniard's bosom swelled with a noble ardor; he was pushed and jostled, but he went on and on. The heat was extreme, however; and from time to time his domino murmured:
"I am stifling! suppose we stop a minute?"
"No, no; we must keep on!" Chamoureau replied; "don't be afraid; I'm holding you tight; you shan't fall."
But after they had danced for some time, the lady's hood fell back, disclosing a tight fitting black cap on top of which the tower of fair hair was mingled with locks of gray hair combed up from behind. A moment later the tower fell to pieces; then it was the mask's turn to fall—and our widower discovered that he held in his arms a woman of fifty, ugly as the mortal sin, with a thin, sallow, vulgar face that would have been disgusting even in a concierge.
Dumfounded, furious at what he saw, Chamoureau did not hesitate an instant; he dropped his partner, who rolled on the floor among the feet of the dancers; and he lost himself among the spectators.
"I am not surprised now that she proposed to sup in her mask!" he said to himself.
The pearl-gray domino had entered the enclosure reserved for the dancers, walking boldly through the crowd, well able to repay in kind those who pushed and jostled her, and paying no attention to the men who spoke to her and tried to detain her by the usual phrases, which such gentlemen do not vary enough.
"Where are you going, lovely domino?"
"Listen to me, my deserted beauty!"
"You are running after him—better come with me."
"If your face resembles your figure, you are the phœnix of dominos."
To all these pretty speeches, tall Thélénie replied only by a very expressive shake of the head. When a man attempted to detain her by taking her arm, she had no difficulty in releasing herself by a sudden movement, saying in a far from encouraging tone:
"I advise you to let me alone, for I assure you that you are wasting your time with me; and that would be a great pity, if you came to the ball with the purpose of making good use of it."
Thélénie's black eyes, full of fire, looked about on all sides for the littledébardeurwith whom she had seenEdmond Didier talking. She was certain of recognizing her, although there were many similar costumes at the ball; a woman guided by jealousy takes in at a glance the figure, the carriage, the foot, the hand and the slightest movements of the person she believes to be her rival.
In a corner of the ball-room, near the orchestra, the pearl-gray domino, convinced that she was not mistaken, halted in front of a little maskeddébardeurand said:
"I was looking for you."
"You were looking for me!"
"Yes, you."
"What for?"
"To speak to you, naturally."
"What can you have to say to me? I don't know you—at least, I don't think I know you. But perhaps you're that big Julie who goes to the Café du Cirque so often, near the Folies-Dramatiques, and who always wins at dominoes."
"I am not big Julie; I never go to the Café du Cirque, and I don't play dominoes. But you evidently go there, and I am not sorry to know it."
"I go where I please—what business is it of yours? What are you talking about? If you were looking for me just to say that, it wasn't worth putting yourself out, charming domino."
"I have something much more interesting to say to you; but first tell me this: what do you do? who are you? Not of much importance! I can see that by your manners and your language. No matter—I want toknow; are you a milliner, flower-maker, seamstress—or something much lower down? Come—answer me."
"Ha! ha! ha! this is too good, on my word! Madame questions me, and with a tone of authority!—one would think she was talking to a slave! By what right do you ask me all this?"
"By what right? Oh! I'll show you that I have a right. Listen: you are Monsieur Edmond Didier's mistress."
"Oho! so you know that, my tall beauty! Very good! I understand it all now; you're one of Edmond's old ones; a poor creature whom he abandoned for me! Ha! ha! and you've come here to make a jealous row!"
"Well, yes, I was Edmond's mistress, I still am; for, if he has had a caprice for you, it's not what can be called love!"
"Really! you believe that? you think that a man may not love me? Well! you are mistaken, my dear; on the contrary, he loves me dearly, he adores me; he told me so just now."
"Listen, girl, remember what I am going to say."
"If it's a song you are going to teach me, I'll remember it if I know the tune."
"Don't jest, for my words are most serious."
"I don't care if they are; I am never serious myself."
"I forbid you—do you understand?—I forbid you to go to Edmond's rooms again; and if you disobey me, beware! you have no idea to what length jealousy may drive me."
"If it could drive you home to bed now, what an excellent thing it would be!"
"You have heard me—and you will obey."
"Not much! This was a foolish step of yours, my dear; for I have quarrelled with Edmond and I didn't intend to see him again; just a minute ago he begged me to go to supper with him, and I refused; but now that you forbid me to—oh! that puts a different face on the matter; I will accept. I'll make it up with him, and we'll be like turtle-doves again."
"Beware! don't drive me to extremities, you little strumpet!"
"Oh! if I'm a little strumpet, you're a big one! Let me tell you that I snap my finger at you and your threats; and to prove it, there's Edmond now, looking everywhere for me, and I'm going with him."
Edmond Didier was, in fact, coming toward them; he was still looking for his littledébardeur. Mademoiselle Amélia ran to him and seized his arm, saying:
"I'm not angry any more, dear boy; I love you more than ever, and I'll go to supper with you. You're glad of that, aren't you?"
The young man, thunderstruck by the sudden change that had taken place in the grisette's humor, stared at her and tried to read in her eyes whether she really meant what she said.
But she continued:
"You're surprised that I am not sulky any longer? Well! who do you suppose you owe it to? I'll tellyou; it's that tall mouse-gray domino who's looking at us over there, and glaring at me as if she'd shoot me! She forbade me to go with you! That instantly made me want to do it."
Edmond looked at the masker the girl pointed out; it was a fact that in the eyes which were fixed upon his companion and himself there was a gleam which had in it something fascinating. Those eyes were easily recognizable, for, as Monsieur Beauregard had said, there were no others at the ball which could be compared with them.
Edmond divined therefore who the person was who glared at him so, and, in spite of himself, he was disturbed and embarrassed for a moment beneath Thélénie's burning glance.
"Oh!" he stammered, "that domino told you—forbade you to speak to me, did she?"
"Yes, she's one of your old ones, you must recognize her. Madame is jealous, but I don't care a fig! You're through with her, I hope. At all events, I'm not jealous—I'm no such fool! I prefer to dance. You are going to galop with me."
The pearl-gray domino, whose eyes were still fixed on the young couple, suddenly walked toward them, stopped beside Edmond and said in an undertone:
"So this is the creature for whom you abandon me! She doesn't do you credit!"
"Eh? what's she saying to you?" demanded Mademoiselle Amélia; "some nasty thing about me, I'll bet."
"No, no! nothing at all!" Edmond replied, as he watched Thélénie disappear in the crowd.
"I say yes; that tall giraffe spoke to you!"
"She called me a—monster!"
"Ah! how new that is!"
"Let us galop."
It was toward the end of this galop that Chamoureau had dropped his partner, who lost her mask, her hair and her cap, and had fled as far as possible, leaving the ball-room and rushing aimlessly into the foyer, so great was his fear of being pursued and overtaken by his new conquest.
When he reached the foyer, the unlucky Spaniard dropped upon a bench, saying to himself:
"I have too hard luck! I am pursued by cruel fate! What a face! great God! what a horrible face! I wouldn't have her for charwoman! Why, if I, a business agent, had such a woman in my house, she'd frighten all my clients! And such an old thing! all skin and bone! and a profile like an embroidery frame! When a woman has no more flesh than that, she must be very bold, to go to the Opéra ball, and try to make an acquaintance! I am not surprised that it hasn't happened to her for two years—she must have meant ten!—And I treated her to candy! It's very lucky that her mask fell off when it did! if it hadn't been for that, she'd have come to supper, she'd have unmasked afterward, the wretch! and God knows all the jokes the others would have made at my expense, especially Freluchon, who'sa connoisseur in pretty women; for he often used to say to me: 'Chamoureau, your wife's too handsome for one man, it's downright murder!'—He was dancing the galop just now with a handsome wench dressedà la Pompadour, and Edmond with adébardeur; they both have what they want, I'm the only one who has nothing, after paying for so many sticks of candy. But I am done; I have had my fill of intrigues, and if I weren't waiting for those fellows I'd go home. But I can't go without Freluchon, as my clothes are at his room. We are to meet here in the foyer, under the clock. It must be very late. I have had very little sport here, and I've lost my false nose."
And Chamoureau watched the promenaders with a woe-begone expression. He did not notice that a blue domino pointed him out to one of pearl-gray, whispering:
"That's the man; he came with them."
The pearl-gray domino, with whom we are well acquainted, but whom our widower did not know as yet, immediately seated herself beside him and motioned to the blue domino to go.
At first Chamoureau simply moved away a little, to make room for the person who had taken a seat by his side; then, allured by the perfume that emanated from his neighbor, he glanced furtively at her, saying to himself:
"Sapristi! this domino smells good; it's as if a bouquet had sat down here. I ought to have guessed that that other woman didn't amount to anything; she smeltof garlic, and when she got warm dancing—then it was much worse!"
Chamoureau's examination of the pearl-gray domino was wholly to her advantage; in addition to the perfume she exhaled, everything about her was refined, stylish and in good taste. But when Thélénie fastened her great black eyes on him, our widower was speechless with admiration, and in his confusion he could think of nothing better to do than to pull up his boots.
Thus far, Chamoureau had not addressed a word to his neighbor, although he was dying to do so; she, however, saved him the trouble by opening the conversation herself.
"Well, Monsieur Chamoureau, are you enjoying the ball?"
"What! how! madame knows me? I have the honor of being known to madame?" murmured our widower, utterly bewildered to hear the stylish domino call him by name.
"Yes, monsieur, I know you—not very well, I must admit; but well enough to tempt me to seat myself here so that I might talk with you."
"Oh! how flattered I am, madame! What! it was to talk with me that you came here to sit? that is extremely amiable on your part!"
"Oh, no! it is quite natural! Sometimes one passes the whole night here without meeting a person with whom one can talk freely; for, to speak frankly, the company is very much mixed at a masquerade."
"You don't know how fully I realize it, madame! for I myself, a moment ago, was misled by a—a—less than nobody! But you understand—when people are masked!"
"In spite of the mask, monsieur, there are always a thousand things which enable one to recognize the well-bred woman, and which betray all these grisettes, all these prostitutes who come here masked, to try to make dupes."
"That is perfectly true, madame; there are a thousand things that betray one's identity; and, as I sit beside you, madame, those things lead me to believe that I am talking with an extremelycomme il fautperson."
"Take care, Monsieur Chamoureau, you may be deceived again."
"Oh, no! this time I am sure of my ground!"
"You did not come to the ball alone, did you, monsieur?"
"No, madame, I came with two young men, friends of mine."
"Yes, Messieurs Freluchon and Edmond Didier."
"Ah! madame knows them also?"
"Very little; but I have a friend, a lady, who is very intimately acquainted with one of them."
"Yes, I understand; and it's with Freluchon, I suppose?"
"No, with Monsieur Edmond; and between ourselves, I think that my poor friend has bestowed her affections very ill."
"Yes, indeed, I should say so! If she relies on that young man's fidelity, she is completely taken in."
"He has to my mind every appearance of a ne'er-do-well, hasn't he, monsieur?"
"He's the worst ne'er-do-well in the world! one of those blades who make love to the first woman they see; who have three, four, five mistresses at the same time—I don't know how they manage it! I love the fair sex, there's no doubt of that, and I cultivate it assiduously, but I don't scatter myself about like that.Ne quid nimis!That Latin axiom is my motto. Forgive me for using a dead language, madame; it slipped from my tongue."
"I congratulate you, monsieur, for not behaving as Edmond does."
"Freluchon's no better! Indeed, I think perhaps he's worse! He's a thorough scapegrace, and, as he's rich, he can do more than others; but he's an intimate friend of mine, and I don't propose to speak ill of him, especially as my late wife had much esteem for him."
"Are you a widower, monsieur?"
"Alas! yes, madame; I have lost my Eléonore, my sweet better half! my faithful companion!"
Chamoureau was on the point of blowing his nose, but he checked himself, reflecting that it would be unwise to appear grief-stricken in that lady's company; and, laying aside his melancholy, he assumed a sprightly air.
"Does not madame dance?"
"Oh, no! monsieur, never at a masquerade. But what have you done with your two friends?"
"They are dancing, madame; they must be on the floor."
"Between ourselves, Monsieur Chamoureau, it isn't good form to dance here, unless one is disguised as you are; then anything is allowable; but those gentlemen are not."
"True; but they are not exactly dancing; the galop is the only thing they dance—the infernal galop."
"Oh, yes! I remember: I saw Monsieur Edmond pass just now with a woman dressed as adébardeur—his mistress, I suppose?"
"Yes, that's one of his mistresses; it must be little Amélia; he was looking for her."
"Who is this Amélia?"
"A young flower-maker: nineteen years old, with a piquant, roguish face, eyes full of fire and a lovely figure!"
"You seem to know her very well!"
"I! oh! I don't know her at all; I am simply repeating what Edmond told me about her a little while ago."
"Then you haven't seen this woman?"
"Not yet; but I shall see her before long, as we are all to sup together; Freluchon arranged it all at the costumer's."
"Ah! you are to sup together!"
Thélénie was silent for some moments, apparently lost in reflection. Meanwhile Chamoureau cudgelled his brain to think of something clever to say to her; havinghad no success, he confined himself to adjusting his cap and pulling up his boot-tops.
"Monsieur Chamoureau," said Thélénie at last, in her sweetest voice, "will you give me your arm for a little promenade—not here in the foyer, for there are too many people here."
"Will I, madame! why, I am only too happy that you should deign to take me for your escort."
And the Spaniard, springing to his feet, offered his arm to the pearl-gray domino, who took it with that lack of formality which a mask sanctions.
Before leaving the foyer, Chamoureau, as proud as Lucifer to have on his arm a stylish woman who left an odor of violets and patchouli as she passed, said to himself:
"Faith, I don't care what happens! I propose to risk another stick of candy!"
Whereupon he led the lady toward a buffet and urged her to take something; but Thélénie dragged him away, saying:
"I am obliged to you, monsieur, but I never take anything here; besides, I think that carrying about sticks of candy is very bad form.—Come, I long to be out of this foyer."
Thélénie had just noticed the tall Beauregard, who was gazing at her with an air of surprise, and with a mocking smile which seemed to say:
"What! you, elegance personified, on the arm of this Spaniard who looks like a genuine buffoon!"
Chamoureau, who had a most exalted opinion of his new acquaintance since she had told him that she never took anything at a ball, walked with her into the corridor, where the domino guided him toward the staircase, saying:
"Let us go up, there are too many people here."
"With pleasure; let us go up."
When they reached the second floor the domino continued to ascend, saying:
"Let us go up farther."
Nor did she stop at the third, but said to her escort:
"Let us keep on."
And Chamoureau made no objection.
"Does she mean to take me up to the small boxes in the dome?" he said to himself. "Have I inspired her with a frenzied passion? But I believe the small boxes aren't open on ball nights. No matter, let her take me where she will; she's a beautiful woman, her figure is enchanting, her hand small, her language distinguished. God grant that I may not find behind her mask any resemblance to that horrible shoe-stitcher! Gad! I am distrustful now!"
The gray domino stopped in the passage leading to the amphitheatre and said to her escort:
"Excuse me, monsieur, for making you come up so high, but I was anxious that we should be alone for what I have to say to you."
"I would have followed you up in a balloon, madame, if you had asked me."
"Oh! you go much too fast perhaps, monsieur, for, after all, you do not know me."
"But I desire most ardently to make your acquaintance."
"Well, monsieur, I shall surprise you, no doubt, but I will not deny that I too should be very glad to know you better, and that it was with that end in view that I took my place by your side just now in the foyer."
"Is it possible that I am so fortunate as to be distinguished by you—so fortunate that a fond hope may be permitted to take root in my heart?"
"Oh! don't go so fast, monsieur; do you think that none but sensual liaisons may exist between two persons of different sexes?"
"I don't say just that; but I have reached the age when love is as necessary to men as the bottle to a child; I say the bottle as I might say the nurse! Madame, should I be too presumptuous if I asked to see your face?"
"It was for the express purpose of showing you my features that I brought you here, monsieur. I am very glad to have you know what sort of person you have to do with."
As she spoke, Thélénie removed her mask and Chamoureau uttered an exclamation, this time of admiration.
Indeed, the first sight of her face might well arouse that sentiment. All her features were beautiful and clean cut; her teeth were beyond reproach, her hair as black as the crow's wing, and her eyes, whose brilliancywe have already noted, were unusually large, fringed by long black lashes, and surmounted by perfectly arched eyebrows. Perhaps that face would have lost a little of its brilliancy in the daylight; there were circles round the eyes and the complexion was a little sallow; but in the gaslight these slight blemishes vanished and left only lovely features and a countenance instinct with animation.
Chamoureau was fairly dazzled.
"Oh! madame!" he stammered; "on my word—I did not expect—I mean—yes, I did expect to see a pretty face—but yours passes all understanding—you are a goddess! I am compelled to admit that Eléonore was only small beer beside you."
This unique compliment brought a faint smile to the lovely brunette's lips.
"Now that you have seen me, monsieur," she rejoined, "do you still desire to make my acquaintance?"
"Do I desire it, entrancing creature! Ah! it is more than a desire now, it is a craving! it is more than a craving, it is——"
"Well, monsieur, I give you permission to call on me, I will receive your visits—but only on one condition."
"I agree beforehand to all conceivable conditions."
"There is only one, monsieur; but you must swear to abide by it; if you should fail, my door would be closed to you instantly."
"That fact should assure you of my obedience, madame; pray tell me what the condition is."
"First of all, monsieur, I must tell you my name: I am Madame de Sainte-Suzanne."
"De Sainte-Suzanne—what a charming name! You must be descended from that Suzanne whom two rakes tried to catch a glimpse of as she left her bath."
"My condition is, monsieur, that you will tell nobody—nobody, you understand—that you know me and that you call on me."
"Agreed,belle dame; although certainly one may well be proud to know you, although one is entitled to be vain of your acquaintance, from the instant that you forbid me to speak, I will not lisp a word."
"Do not forget that promise, monsieur, especially when you are with your friends Messieurs Edmond Didier and Freluchon."
"Oh! I'll be very careful, I know that they are terribly garrulous, especially Freluchon."
"And if my name should happen to be mentioned in your presence, if I should be the subject of conversation, you will listen and keep silent."
"If you wish, I will not even listen."
"I beg your pardon, monsieur, you will listen and remember everything that is said; for I am inquisitive and am anxious to know what people think of me."
"In that case, never fear; I'll open both my ears so wide that I won't lose a word."
"Now, monsieur, I must leave you. See, this is my address;—you may return to your friends and sup with them."
As she spoke, Thélénie handed Chamoureau a card, then hurriedly replaced her mask.
"What is this, fascinating woman! are you going to leave me?" said the Spaniard, tucking the card under his doublet. "I hoped—I dared to think that you would allow me to escort you to your home."
"No, monsieur, it's impossible; I have friends here, and I must join them again. The day after to-morrow, between two o'clock and five, I give you permission to call. Now, adieu; I forbid you to follow me."
And Thélénie ran rapidly downstairs.
"All the same," said Chamoureau, pulling up his boot-tops, "I have made a fine conquest!"
Thélénie found Mademoiselle Héloïse in the balcony box; she motioned to her to come with her.
"Do you mean to say we are going already?" asked the little black domino.
"Already! why, it's very late. See, the dancers have plenty of room now, which means that the ball is nearing its end."
"Have you spoken to Monsieur Edmond?"
"No, no, it's of no use; I leave him with his mistress—a flower-maker, my dear; really, it makes me blush to think that I was jealous of such a creature."
"But there are some very pretty flower-makers!"
"What of that? she's a grisette, all the same, and that sort of an affair won't keep Edmond in chains for long. I say again that I regret having lowered myself by speaking to that girl. However, I have just made the acquaintance of a person who will keep me advised concerning my faithless lover's intrigues."
"It's that tall man dressed as a Spaniard, I suppose, that that woman came to tell you about?"
"Exactly; an idiot who thinks he's made a conquest of me.—Come this way, we'll get down more quickly."
As the two women started downstairs, the tall man who had talked with Thélénie in her box, happened to be directly in front of her. He stopped her, saying:
"How is this? you have left your hidalgo? Oh! my dear, you were very foolish to leave him, for you won't find his like at this ball."
"And I am not looking for him, you see, as I am going away."
"Without Edmond Didier?"
"Without Edmond Didier!"
"Whom you leave behind in the company of an extremely pretty littledébardeur."
"I am absolutely indifferent to that, as you see!"
"Oh! you conceal your thoughts; it certainly was for some purpose that you consented to pass your armthrough that fellow's,—that man had the appearance of a mustard sign."
"That doesn't concern you; adieu!"
"You are in a great hurry."
"I don't see that we have anything more to say to each other."
"Nothing more to say to each other! You always forget that we have, on the contrary, a very serious subject to discuss. But I will come to see you."
"Very well, I am horribly tired. Adieu!"
"You run away as if you had seen Paul Duronceray here."
The name of Duronceray caused the fair Thélénie a painful shock; despite the mask that covered her face it was easy to detect the perturbation which that name aroused in her mind.
She soon succeeded in recovering herself, however, and rejoined in a harsh voice:
"You are mistaken, Beauregard, I run away from nobody; and if Monsieur Duronceray were here, I should not be the one to run away—but you!"
"I! oh, no! for now he ought to thank me, instead of bearing me a grudge."
"Very well! hunt him up then!"
And the pearl-gray domino disappeared with her companion.
Monsieur Beauregard stood for some moments lost in thought; then he shrugged his shoulders and returned to the foyer, saying to himself:
"The fact remains that I have no one to sup with; it is time to be thinking about that."
Chamoureau, having discreetly allowed a few minutes to elapse, that he might not appear to be following the pearl-gray domino, who had forbidden him to do so, decided at last to descend from the amphitheatre passage. Now that he had an intrigue fairly started with a lady as elegant as she was lovely, the widower had none but contemptuous glances for all the women who passed him. He puffed himself out in his ruff, held his head erect with much dignity, squared his shoulders under his cloak, and no longer took the trouble to pull up his boot-tops. He was a man who hadarrived; in other words, a man who had what he wanted and who no longer needed to put himself out in order to gain his ends.
Meanwhile he desired to find his intimate friend Freluchon and young Edmond, because he began to feel an inclination to sup.
In the corridor on the first floor a domino stopped him, and Chamoureau shuddered as he recognized the shoe-stitcher's false light hair.
"Ah! I have found you again at last, my dear monsieur!" cried the scrawny creature. "I am so glad! I have been looking for you ever since that unlucky galop, when I fell; you let go with your left arm, I was a little dizzy, and—patatras! And I lost my cap, too, and had hard work finding it; I bruised myself somewhere when I fell, but it won't amount to anything."
"But why were you looking for me, madame?" rejoined the Spaniard, wrapping himself in his cloak, with a savage glare. "I was not looking for you."
"Why, as it's pretty late, I was thinking about supper, as you asked me to take supper with your friends."
"I think I see myself taking you to supper! You had a stick of candy from me, and that's all you will get; for it's not decent to deceive everybody as you do. At your age, and with a face like yours—to try to make a conquest! Go and hide yourself!"
"Let me tell you that you're an impudent wretch, monsieur, and that a man don't talk like that to a woman. When a man has such spindleshanks as yours, he shouldn't put on so many airs. Did anyone ever hear of such a thing! This blockhead flinging a miserable stick of candy in my face! You might stuff it into your nose, your sweetmeat; it would go in. I'll show you what I think of it!"
And the domino hurled her stick of candy at Chamoureau's legs and angrily turned her back on him.
While the widower gazed in stupefaction at the shattered fragments of the bonbon, Freluchon took his arm.
"What the deuce are you doing here," he said, "in rapt contemplation before these broken bits of candy?"
"Faith! I was thinking, as I looked at them, what a pity it is to waste good stuff like that."
"Pshaw! let's go to supper; that will be better fun than staying here. We are just going; we are all downstairs, and I left my Marquise Pompadour to come insearch of you; I should say that that was rather kind on my part, eh?"
"Parbleu! you couldn't leave me here and go off without me, when my clothes are at your rooms."
"Come, come; we are going to have supper at Vachette's."
"Why not at the Maison d'Or? it's nearer. You see I never thought to bring a cloak or an overcoat to wear over my disguise. You have a carriage, I trust?"
"A carriage, when there are eight of us! We will run; the weather's fine and that will warm us up."
Edmond was in the vestibule with his littledébardeuron his arm; two young men, friends of Freluchon and himself, each accompanied by an unmasked domino, and the little woman dressed as a Louis XV marchioness completed the party. The merry band walked away, shoutingoh!andéh!as the custom is during the Carnival, each with his chosen companion on his arm; our widower alone had no one, which fact did not prevent his shouting louder than the others, for he said to himself:
"If I haven't a woman on my arm at this moment, I flatter myself that the one I have captivated is worth more alone than all four of their supper companions."
They arrived at Vachette's, where Freluchon, being a man of forethought, had engaged a private room beforehand. The table was laid; the ladies removed their hoods, caps, gloves, everything that would interfere with their eating; and they all whispered and laughed as they glanced at the Spaniard.
"Who on earth is this tall scarecrow without a lady?" they asked Freluchon; "is he a provincial on his first visit to Paris?"
"No, mesdames," Freluchon replied, "he's a widower who has sworn to remain faithful to his defunct spouse; he's a male Artemis; he is Orpheus, who has lost his Eurydice and is constantly looking for her. If you wish, I will make him weep in a moment."
"No, no, thanks! we prefer to laugh. But why does he wear a disguise if he's so grief-stricken?"
"To disguise his grief; he is persuaded that he has no right to divert himself except in that costume."
"Mesdames, don't you think Freluchon is stuffing us?"
"To table! to table!"
"See, there are ten places, and only nine of us," observed one of the young men.
"True," replied Freluchon, "I ordered supper for ten because I thought that Chamoureau would bring a lady."
"That's so!" cried Edmond; "I hadn't noticed. How's this, my dear Chamoureau, didn't you make a little acquaintance at the ball? What does this mean? how, then, did you pass the time?"
Chamoureau drank a glass of chablis and replied with a triumphant smile:
"I beg pardon, messieurs, I beg pardon! if I haven't brought a lady to supper, that doesn't prove by any means that I am not so highly favored as you are by—by Cupid!"
"The deuce! do you mean it, Chamoureau?" cried Freluchon; "you've been favored by Cupid! Come, tell us about it! When I found you in the foyer, looking, as if stupefied, at the remains of a stick of candy, I supposed that your presents had been repulsed with loss."
"Oh! not by any means! on the contrary my candy was not once repulsed; in fact, I have given away a great deal of it during the night!"
"Really! then you have had a number of intrigues."
"I have had nothing else all night long; I left one woman to take another, and vice versa!"
"What a Lovelace!"
"How is it, monsieur," said the little Pompadour, "that after making so many conquests at the ball, you haven't brought a single one to supper? That is not very gallant for a hidalgo!"
"Pardon me, pretty marchioness," rejoined Chamoureau, after tossing off another glass of chablis, with which he constantly watered his oysters, "my first conquests were worth little more than a stick of candy. Frankly, I found that they were not what I was looking for, so I dropped them, as Henri Monnier says in hisFamille Improvisée. But the last—oh! the last——"
"She dropped you, I suppose," said Freluchon.
"No indeed!Diantre!let us not joke about her! it's a very serious affair with her. Ah! Dieu!"
"Ha! ha! what a touching sigh!"
"Well, monsieur, why didn't you bring that one to supper—the one who is responsible for that groan?"
"I promise you that I would have asked nothing better; indeed, I invited her, but she refused—she couldn't come."
"Perhaps she was afraid of compromising herself?"
"I don't say that; and yet I can understand that in her position——"
"Ah! she's a woman with a position! Is she on the stage?"
"Well, hardly! no, no! she's a very great lady."
"About five feet six?"
"I am not joking; she's a lady of the very best society."
"Ha! ha! you rascal of a Chamoureau! I believe you are laughing at us."
"Or that she laughed at him!"
"I assure you that she did not laugh at me! In the first place, she unmasked, and I saw the most captivating face. These ladies are very pretty most assuredly, but my superb brunette would throw them all into the shade!"
"I say, Spaniard, do you know that you make us tired with your brunette!"
"If she wouldn't come to supper with you," said little Amélia, "that proves right away that she was intending to take supper with someone else, doesn't it, mesdames?"
"Yes, yes; Amélia is right."
"Oh! you are mistaken, mesdames; it isn't at all as you imagine."
"Well, Chamoureau, where do you expect to see your wonderful conquest again? has she given you an assignation?"
"She has done more, my dear fellow: she has given me her address, with permission to call on her—at her hôtel!"
"So she has a hôtel—furnished probably."
"And when he goes to ask for his charmer, the concierge will say: 'It's on such a floor, monsieur, such a number; the numbers are on the doors'—Ha! ha!"
"Laugh away! laugh all you please! 'He laughs best who laughs last!'"
"The moment you begin on proverbs, I haul down my flag. But where does your conquest live? Perhaps I know her house."
"Freluchon, ask me for my fortune, ask me for my life——"
"You wouldn't give 'em to me, I know; go on."
"I would give them to you rather than tell you the name and abode of my fascinating brunette!"
"Oho! is it as bad as that?"
"I have sworn to be discreet, and I shall keep my oath! If I hadn't promised, it would be a different matter."
"Inasmuch as you have sworn—you will tell us the whole thing at dessert!"
"Never!—better a thousand times to be a widower!"
"Bravo! that's not bad! I'll remember it!"
"You are making me talk nonsense, Freluchon; but in Carnival time——"
"Join me, mesdames and messieurs; I drink to Chamoureau's mysterious conquest!"
"Good! here's her health!"
"For my part, I won't drink it," said the marchioness; "don't you do it, mesdames; he had the face to say that she was prettier than we are!"
"Forgive him, mesdames; passion makes him blind."
"I am rather inclined to think that he's drunk."
Chamoureau did not stint himself while the young men were talking and laughing with their companions, but addressed himself constantly to the decanters within his reach, saying to himself:
"Ah! these strumpets won't drink to my conquest! All right! I'll drink to her myself, in madeira and champagne! To your health, seductive, enrapturing Sainte-Suzanne! You are as far above these lights-o'-love as the oak is above the weed! You could crush them by a single glance; your eyes shine like real diamonds, whereas all these creatures are simply white topazes—To your health again, divine woman! I drain my glass to you."
By dint of drinking of healths and draining his glass, Chamoureau fuddled himself completely; then his head grew heavy, his eyes closed, and he fell asleep.
Our sleeper was awakened by a succession of light taps on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and looked about him. He was still in the small room where he had supped, surrounded by the remains of the feast; but all his table companions had disappeared, and he saw nobody but the waiter who had roused him.
"Hallo! what's the meaning of this?" murmured Chamoureau, rubbing his eyes. "Where are my friends—those gentlemen—and their ladies?"
"They all went away just a minute ago, monsieur."
"What! they went away without me, without waking me!"
"Yes, monsieur, they did it on purpose. I was going to wake you, but Monsieur Freluchon said: 'No, don't wake him till we're gone; that will teach him to go to sleep in our company!'"
"Oh! how stupid! some silly nonsense, some wretched joke all the time! Why, bless my soul! it's broad daylight!"
"Parbleu! long ago, monsieur! it's nearly eight o'clock."
"Sapristi! and I have to go to Freluchon's to change my clothes! However, there are plenty of cabs, luckily. Is there anything for me to pay, waiter?"
"No, monsieur, it's all paid."
"Good!—To think that I haven't an overcoat to hide this costume! Freluchon is to blame for that; 'you won't be cold,' he said.—It isn't the cold I'm afraid of, but the street urchins.—Call a cab, waiter; have it come as near the door as possible."
"Bless me! monsieur, they ain't allowed to come on the sidewalk."
"Well, then, right in front of the door."
Chamoureau covered himself with his cloak as well as he could; he pulled his cap over his eyes, drew hischin inside his ruff, pulled up his boot-tops, and when the waiter announced that the cab was waiting below, rushed down the stairway and across the sidewalk so recklessly that he nearly overturned a woman carrying a tray of bread.
The woman shouted after Chamoureau, who had knocked off three loaves, calling him: "Beast, brute, dirty scum!" But he let her shout, for he was already out of sight inside the cab; he gave Freluchon's address and the cab drove away followed by the hoots of the urchins who had gathered to see a masker, and by the shrieks of the woman with the tray on her head, who was obliged to pick up her loaves.
They soon reached the house on Rue Saint-Georges in which Freluchon lived. Chamoureau leaped out of his cab under the porte cochère, and hastily paid the cabman and dismissed him; because, in his everyday clothes, he could easily walk home.
That transaction completed, the widower said to the concierge:
"I am going up to Freluchon's room."
"What for?" demanded the concierge, eyeing the Spaniard from head to foot.
"What for? why, don't you know me? I am Chamoureau, Freluchon's best friend."
"Yes, I recognize monsieur now, in spite of his masquerade."
"I am going up to my friend's room to get my clothes—unless Freluchon left them with you."
"Monsieur Freluchon left nothing with me, and it ain't worth while for you to go up, as there's no one there. Monsieur Freluchon didn't come home to sleep."
"What's that you say, concierge? it's impossible."
"It's the truth, monsieur."
"Then you have my clothes here?"
"No, monsieur. Last night, if you remember, Monsieur Freluchon came in with a boy who had a bundle—your clothes, no doubt."
"Well, yes; what then?"
"The boy was going to leave the bundle here, but Monsieur Freluchon had to go upstairs to get some money, so he took the bundle up, saying: 'Chamoureau would rather dress in my room than in yours.'"
"Very good; then my clothes are upstairs. Let's go and look for them; if Freluchon isn't there, you must have his key."
"That's just what I haven't got; sometimes he leaves it with me, but he generally takes it with him; and he didn't leave it last night."
"By Jove! this is too much! my clothes are in his room, he knows it, he has his key in his pocket, and he doesn't come home to sleep! What is going to become of me in my Spanish costume? It's an outrage to have to go home dressed like this!"
"Monsieur can take a cab."
"I know that well enough; it wasn't worth while to send the other one away. But I've got to get out of the cab; and I live on Carré Saint-Martin, where there arealways lots of people passing. If my house had a porte cochère, I would have the cab drive under it; but no—it's a house-door; and my concierge and all the neighbors will see me come home in this state! Sapristi! this is an infernal trick for Freluchon to play on me.—But I have an idea. Concierge, suppose you lend me some of your clothes?"
"Oh! they wouldn't fit, monsieur; I am short and thin, and monsieur is tall and stout."
"That's so; I'm a fine man, and you are not. Well, I must swallow the absinthe. Concierge, be kind enough to step out and find me a cab."
"But I am all alone, you see, monsieur; my wife has gone out to work and I can't leave my post."
"I will look out for your post—never fear."
"But that isn't the same thing; you don't know the tenants."
"That's of no consequence. Go; my reputation is at stake. Here's forty sous for your trouble; I pay well, you see."
"All right, I'll go; I hope I'll find one on the stand."
"A cab I must have, dead or alive! do you hear?"
The concierge decided, albeit regretfully, to desert his post, and Chamoureau stepped inside.
"Luckily the porte cochère is open," he said, "I shall not have to pull the string!"
Chamoureau concealed himself in the farthest corner of the concierge's room, in an old armchair that might have served the purpose of a couch. He placed himself with his back to the window through which visitors addressed the functionary whom he represented, and, in order that he might be observed less easily, he removed his plumed cap and replaced it with an old cap that he found on a table.
So long as people simply passed and repassed the lodge, the false concierge did not put himself out; he did not turn his head, but contented himself with cursing Freluchon, who had put him in that embarrassing position.
But soon someone opened the window, a man's head appeared, and a loud voice inquired:
"Is Monsieur Delaroche in?"
Chamoureau did not stir and did not say a word. The voice repeated, louder than before:
"Is Monsieur Delaroche in?"
The same immobility and the same silence on Chamoureau's part. Whereupon the voice assumed a formidable intonation, capable of breaking all the panes of the window.
"Sacrebleu! are you deaf? are you still asleep? This is the third time I've asked if Monsieur Delaroche was in, and you don't answer! What kind of a damned concierge is this!—Wait a bit, till I come into your lodge; I'll shake you and teach you to sleep at this time of day!"
Chamoureau, who was not at all anxious that that gentleman should enter the lodge and shake him, decided to answer without turning:
"He's in! yes, yes, he's in!"
"Why didn't you say so then, you old fool?"
"He's in! he's in!"
The loud-voiced individual went upstairs, and our widower hurled himself in his chair once more, muttering:
"After all, I was a great fool not to answer. Probably no one has gone out so early as this, and I don't risk anything by saying they're in; and then, even if they should be out, what do I care?"
Soon various other persons appeared at the window.
"Is Madame Duponceau visible?"
"Yes, yes, she's there."
"Is Monsieur Bretonneau in?"
"He's there, he's there."
"Is there anybody at Mademoiselle Crémailly's?"
"She's there, she's there."
"Then she's back from the country?"
"She's there!"
"In the country, or here?"
"She's there, she's there!"
"Sapristi! tell me what you mean, concierge: is Mademoiselle Crémailly still in the country, or has she come back to Paris?"
"She's there, she's there!"
"Very well, then I'll go up. Still on the fourth?"
"She's there!"
"Heavens! what a donkey that concierge is! one would say he was a parrot—repeating the same thing over and over again."
"I'm beginning to get infernally tired of this!" said Chamoureau to himself; "altogether too many people come to this house. The deuce! now it's raining great guns! and my cab doesn't come! Can it be that there wasn't one on the square? that's usually the way when it rains hard. O Freluchon! you shall pay me for this! The rascal probably went home with his Pompadour!"
Soon a lady's maid appeared at the window.
"Madame's paper, please, Monsieur Mignon," she said. "I am a little late—not that madame's hair is dressed yet, but I must have time to read the paper before she does, as usual; especially as there's a most intensely excitingfeuilletonjust now. It's too splendid for anything, I tell you: four killed already, and one that they're getting ready to poison! and a woman who always has a dagger hidden in her belt! and a château where there are subterranean vaults with instruments of torture, and the author describes the way of using them! There's an interesting executioner and there's corpses and tortured people on every page! Oh! such a lovelynovel! Now that's what I call literature, and I know what I'm talking about; I don't read all this mawkish stuff, not me! I want a crime, a murder, in every chapter; then I say: 'there's an author who has a wonderful talent and who has studied murders to some purpose.'—But look here! I believe you're not listening to me! And where's my paper? God bless my soul! he's still asleep! Well, I'll come in and get it myself."
The young servant entered the room, looked over several papers that lay on the table, and took her own, saying:
"You must have been kept up late last night, old Mignon? I'll bet it was because Madame Duponceau went to the ball. There's a woman who's up to snuff; she tells her old beau that she has a sick headache or one of her nervous attacks, and means to go to bed at nine o'clock; so she dismisses him with an: 'I'm going to dream of you, my loulou!' and he's no sooner out of sight than she skips off to the ball with another man. But still it's the custom, it's done everywhere, as the song says: