He fell into a chair, s.n.a.t.c.hed off his cap, unbuckled his cloak, and shook his feet to rid himself of his top-boots, and as they were far too large, he sent one in the face of the countryman who had been waiting so long for him, and whom, in his hurried home-coming, he had not noticed.

The little thickset man, who was staring at Chamoureau with wide-open eyes, like a fisherman who thinks that he sees something at the end of his line, seemed far from pleased at receiving the Louis XIII boot in his face, and cried out:

"Well, look here, you--Carnival--do you take my face for a boot-jack?

What sort of an animal is this, anyway?"

Thereupon the business agent, perceiving that there was a man seated in one corner of the room, made him a low bow.

"I beg pardon, monsieur, a thousand pardons; I didn't see you.--Madame Monin, my slippers, at once. What does monsieur wish?"

"What I wish is to speak to the master of the house, the business man--because I have business--and it ain't a small matter either--to put in his hands."

"I, monsieur, am the master of the house, Chamoureau,--at your service.

We will step into my office, when I have my slippers and dressing gown.--Come, Madame Monin."

"I'm looking for 'em, monsieur, but I don't know where you've hid 'em; I can't put my hand on 'em."

"What's that! is that the truth? you're the business agent?" said the countryman, scrutinizing Chamoureau from head to foot.

"To be sure, monsieur, I am the man."

"Are you always dressed like this--with spangles all over you, and such a funny-looking cravat?"

"No, monsieur, this is a disguise which I a.s.sumed, contrary to my custom; it must not be regarded as establishing a precedent."

"Ah! so you spent the night at the masquerade, and then you went round drinking at wine-shops--raising the devil, as your servant said just now!"

"You are mistaken, monsieur; a man may go to the ball by chance--there's no law against it--but that is no reason why he should visit wine-shops and raise the devil afterward."

"Well then, as your fandangoes end at daylight, what have you been doing since then that makes you come home so late, if you haven't been the rounds of the wine-shops?"

"It seems to me that these are rather unusual questions, monsieur."

"d.a.m.nation! monsieur, let me tell you that what I've seen sets one to thinking. Do you suppose I'm going to put my business in your hands, and give a power of attorney to collect a plump little sum of money to a man what dresses like this and shows himself in the streets in such a dress at this time of day--goes on sprees in short, at an age when he ought to behave himself! _Nenni_, nenni! this sort of thing don't give me confidence in you. I'll go and look for a business agent who ain't up to such tricks!"

And the countryman rose and prepared to leave the room.

Chamoureau, who was very uncomfortable because he had taken off his boots and had not received his slippers, none the less ran after the client who was about to escape him, and seized his arm, saying:

"For heaven's sake, monsieur, don't judge by appearances; I am not a frequenter of b.a.l.l.s. Besides, here in Paris a man may amuse himself a little and still attend to his business; indeed, it often happens that you meet at a ball or at the theatre the very persons you want to see.--Madame Monin! sapristi! my slippers!"

"Tell me, then, where you hid them, monsieur."

"Look under my bed.--Entrust your business to me, monsieur, and rest a.s.sured that I will look after it with all the zeal that I always display in behalf of my clients, who, I venture to say, have never had occasion thus far to do anything but congratulate themselves on having placed their interests in my hands."

"_Ouiche!_ that's all very fine talk! but I believe what I see.--They told me that Monsieur Chamoureau was a widower, but that he still cried for his wife."

"That's the truth, monsieur, the exact truth.--O Eleonore! why are you not here to defend your husband!"

"They ain't under the bed, I just looked there."

"Look in my somno.--Yes, monsieur, I mourn for my wife! If she were alive, she'd have found my slippers before this!"

"When a man mourns for his dead wife, he don't go masquerading round the streets in broad daylight! No, no! I don't trust you!"

At that moment they heard loud talking on the stairs. The door, which was not locked, was thrown open with violence, and the professor of bookkeeping rushed into the room, shouting at the top of his voice:

"What have I learned? Great G.o.d! He has worn a disguise, attended public b.a.l.l.s, and carried disregard of propriety so far as to appear in broad daylight and in his own neighborhood, dressed in a costume to which it is impossible to give a name.--Yes! it is not a falsehood, a fable, a false rumor; here he is, still in that absurd costume! and he, a man who keeps a business office, abandons himself to such libertinage--and without his shoes!--What a shocking disguise!"

"Ah! good-morning, Monsieur Beaubichon, I am at your service in one moment.--Come, Madame Monin, will you give me my slippers or not?"

"They ain't in your somno either, monsieur."

"You are at my service, monsieur!" rejoined the professor, puffing like an ox; "but I, monsieur, I am not at your service! I no longer propose that you shall dispose of my destiny and my future.--Upon my word!--I have come to tell you, monsieur, that I withdraw my confidence from you and that you shall find no wife for me--for me, Aime-Desire-Jules Beaubichon; the idea of my taking a wife on the guaranty of a pseudo Spaniard! of a man who so far forgets his manhood as to deck himself in tinsel that gives him the aspect of a mountebank!"

"I do the same, monsieur," said the countryman; "I withdraw my confidence from him; to be sure, I hadn't given it to him, but I withdraw it all the same. I was going to give him my power of attorney.

But nay, nay, Lisette! he won't have a chance to throw my money away at b.a.l.l.s!"

"He was employed to find me a spouse, monsieur; but where would he go to find one? to _Valentino_, or the _Salle-Barthelemy?_ For me, who desire good morals and virginity before all things! He would arrange a marriage for me with one of those little women whom all Paris knows, a _girl of marble_, monsieur; when I say _marble_, I use a theatrical form of expression--do you understand?"

"Faith, no!"

"I am not surprised."

While these two gentlemen indulged in their recriminations and reflections, far from flattering to the business agent, the latter, finding that his slippers did not come, and being averse to standing on the floor in his stockings, decided to get down on his hands so that he might more easily look under the furniture and find that indispensable portion of his costume. His position, as he crawled around his room on all fours, was ill adapted to restore the confidence of the persons whom the sight of his disguise had so exasperated. Monsieur Beaubichon therefore wrathfully jammed his hat over his eyes, crying:

"Observe, monsieur, observe the results of dissipation! A man who should be as serious as the law itself, is obliged to crawl around his room on all fours, in search of objects which should be at his hand!--I go, and never in my life will I set foot inside this office! Keep your marriageable women, monsieur, or marry them to your clients--this professor of bookkeeping will not endorse them. Good-day!"

"I follow your lead, monsieur; I'll keep my power of attorney and try to find a business agent who won't fling yellow boots in my face.

Good-day!"

"Go to the devil! and leave me in peace! for I'm sick of you both!"

retorted Chamoureau; and, weary of his unsuccessful search, he sat on the floor in the middle of the room. But at that moment the servant returned with a victorious air, holding the slippers in her hand.

"They were in the sideboard, monsieur," she cried; "you must have been very absent-minded to put 'em there."

X

AGATHE AND HONORINE

Chamoureau thrust his feet into his slippers, then ran to his office, which was also his bedroom, and made haste to divest himself of his Spanish costume, saying to himself:

"That infernal disguise has cost me dear! it has already caused me to lose two clients, and I shall have to grease my concierge's paw to keep from telling all over the neighborhood that I came home this morning in Carnival costume after pa.s.sing the night away from the house!--And then he'll promise not to talk, and he'll tell everybody! Anyway, all the neighbors saw me--the fruitwoman and the grocer.--Ah! this will be a very bad thing for my business.--That was a vile trick for you to play on me, Freluchon! Still, it is possible that he didn't do it purposely.

In his Pompadour's company, he probably forgot that he had his key in his pocket. Now I have got to send all this stuff back to the costumer; another messenger to pay! Gad! I spent a lot of money last night!"