"True! my question was unnecessary. Your education is complete. Give me a few. What are you drinking there?"

"Grog at three-six----"

"I will take several gla.s.ses. Be good enough to mix me one, Rosa, while Boulotte, who has the knack of rolling cigarettes, rolls eight or ten for me. Ah! mesdemoiselles, I am thirsty for a smoke!"

"Well, I don't see that you've anything to do but open your mouth; there's no lack of smoke here."

"You do not understand me, my gay young Andalusian; I mean that I am athirst to smoke, myself, and I have just been calling on a man who never smokes!"

"Mon Dieu! where was that bird raised?"

"He never goes out, he stays at home all the time; he is in love, he thinks of his charmer--that takes the place of a pipe."

"Has his charmer been well seasoned?"

"I didn't ask him."

"Well! tell us about the scene with the would-be husband at Monsieur Mirotaine's, the marriage _a la_ Putiphar."

"Everything went off perfectly; but in the evening, a friend of mine, Phbus Dubotte--I call him Phbus because he's fair-haired and conceited--Phbus arrived with his wife. It happens that he knows the individual whom I had introduced as an Italian count."

"The man who lends you money because you know a secret that concerns him, and in whose presence we mustn't mention Pontoise?"

"The same; Boulotte, you have a memory like a creditor. But Phbus mentioned Pontoise, and called my friend Miflores by his true name. You can guess the effect produced by that recognition!--Pa.s.s me a cigarette.--The Mirotaines are furious, Putiphar would like an opportunity to horsewhip me. My false count ran away, and I took my leave, declaring that I proposed to run my sword through him somewhere.

The denouement of our comedy was hurried a little; but it had to come to an end some time, and I was beginning to be rather tired of the Mirotaine circle. Still, there were some excellent types there. A certain Monsieur Brid'oison, who looked on in admiration while his son performed gymnastic feats on everybody's shoulders; his wife ate her hair, and a sister of the host wept all the while because a pickled onion hit her in the eye."

"And the dinner--was that good?"

"A miser's dinner. Wretched wines! no truffles! a _creme au camphre!_"

"_Au camphre?_"

"With camphor instead of sugar; I don't advise you to try it; it isn't a satisfactory subst.i.tute. However, we did the trick; and I have just been to see Lucien, to tell him how I have helped on his love affair."

"Did he thank you?"

"On the contrary, he scolded me, and preached me a sermon on tobacco!--Pa.s.s me a cigarette.--Now, I must find my Miflores, for I need money. I have seen a dramatic correspondent, and he tells me that I am wanted at Quimper-Corentin, where they require a tenor _jeune premier_.

I am young; I have an attractive countenance and a good enough voice! I can reach high _G!_"

"_G!_ but that isn't _C!_"

"I am perfectly well aware, Mademoiselle Rosa, that _G_ is not _C_, or rather _do_, to speak more elegantly; but a chest _G_ is very neat, all the same; and, besides, if the audience isn't satisfied, I'll say: _zut!_ [you be hanged!] and they will be."

"In what role are you going to make your first appearance?"

"In _Joconde_. I sing: _J'ai longtemps parcouru le monde!_ as if I'd never done anything else."

"So they play comic opera at Quimper-Corentin, do they?"

"Why, my dear Rosa, where have you been? Don't you know that since the theatres were enfranchised they play all kinds everywhere? I have seen _Tartuffe_ in a barn, and _La Bataille de Pultava_ in a bedroom; the Russians hid behind a night commode, and the Swedes carried a chamber vessel with the bayonet. So there is nothing strange in their playing comic opera at Quimper. There's only one thing that makes me hesitate: the correspondent warned me that the manager doesn't furnish the costumes; and as I don't want to play Joconde in a frock-coat or an overcoat, I must buy a costume. I want it to be dazzling, gorgeous!

That's why I need money, and I must find Miflores."

"But I thought you were expecting a legacy from an old aunt?"

"Yes, I still have that legacy in prospect; and that's the last! But the old aunt persists in living. That's why I must see Miflores."

"But by what spell do you succeed in making that man lend you money so often?"

"Ah! that is my secret!"

"But you'll tell us your secret, Dodichet, won't you? You'll confide it to us?"

"I will tell it to you, mesdemoiselles, when I no longer need to borrow money of Miflores; when I have inherited from my aunt."

"Oh! do tell us your secret, dear old Dodichet! We'll be very close-mouthed."

"I do not doubt your discretion, mesdemoiselles! That's why I won't tell you anything more."

Dodichet drank three grogs, smoked five cigarettes, then went home, humming:

"'Mais on revient toujours A ses premieres amours!'"

The next morning, quite early, Dodichet went to the hotel where the mysterious apothecary lived. He found him packing his trunks and preparing to move.

"What does this mean?" cried Dodichet; "why these preparations for going away?"

"Because I am leaving this house."

"Why, pray?"

"Because I'm afraid I shall be found here. There's your friend, that stout man, who presumed to call me Seringat last night before a whole roomful! I am very angry, monsieur! It was a mean trick that you played on me, to take me to a house where I might meet a man who knew me at Pontoise! I don't propose to lend you money so that you can treat me in such a way as that!"

"Allow me to observe, my dear friend, that at this moment you are talking like a goose! And I will prove to you in a few words that you have no common sense. I borrow money of you--which I will return, by the way, when I inherit from my aunt, you may be sure."

"Very well; I don't care about that; I'm in no hurry."

"Now, my reason for having recourse to your purse of late is that I am rather short, that I need your help. You lend me money, not to oblige me, I know that perfectly well, but because you're afraid that I will divulge what you are so anxious to conceal."

"Yes, monsieur; that's the only reason--it's not from friendship at all."

"Thanks; I appreciate that token of affection! But if I brought you face to face with someone who had known you at Pontoise, that is to say, who might disclose--what concerns you, why, it would be all over; you wouldn't lend me any more money, because everything would be known!--So you see that it is altogether against my interest that anyone should recognize you. This Dubotte came to Mirotaine's--a most miraculous thing; for he had always refused to go there, because they give their guests cocoa for refreshments--he said so himself in my presence. So it was simply an unlucky chance that he came there last night. Moreover, I had no idea that Dubotte had ever known you at Pontoise; but luckily it was before your--your event; he knows nothing about that."

"My word! if he'd mentioned that, I should have done some crazy thing!"

"I don't know what you'd have done; but you see that I could not have antic.i.p.ated that meeting. Come, my little Seringat, you're not angry with me any more, are you?"

"Oh! don't call me Seringat--I don't want to be Seringat again!"