San-Cravate; or, The Messengers; Little Streams - Part 65
Library

Part 65

Paul was deeply moved and could hardly make out to say, in faltering tones:

"But this is too much, monsieur; I was paid beforehand--I do not want any more; I am so happy to have been useful to you."

Monsieur Vermoncey took the young man's hand, and, while pressing it affectionately, placed the money in it.

"Come, come! accept it as a favor to me; you will grieve me if you refuse. Take the money to your mother, so that she too may be happy to-day."

Paul lowered his eyes without replying, and Monsieur Vermoncey continued:

"By the way, my friend, where is your stand?"

"Rue du Helder, monsieur, at the corner of the boulevard. Monsieur your son knows me very well."

"Are you his regular messenger?"

"No, monsieur; but my comrade Sans-Cravate is; his stand is--not far from mine."

"That is true," said Albert; "and if I had found him this morning, I probably should have employed him to do my errand."

"Well," continued Monsieur Vermoncey, "hereafter I propose to employ no other messenger than you. What is your name?"

"Paul, monsieur."

"Very well, Paul, you understand, you are to be my messenger. You are not sorry, I trust, are you?"

"Far from it, monsieur; and I will do all that I can to deserve your confidence."

"I am sure of it, my friend; and now--au revoir!"

Paul bowed low and left the room, touched to the quick by the interest manifested by Monsieur Vermoncey, and with his heart filled with a strange joy, the cause of which he was at a loss to understand.

When Albert was alone with his father, he embraced him again.

"You were right," he cried, "perfectly right! when you told me that some love intrigues were very dangerous, that there were women who led us much further than we meant to go; and when you told me to distrust my friend Celestin, whose manner did not attract you. Yes, father; you judged him fairly. My friend Celestin is a traitor, who deceived me and tried to rob me of the woman I was trying to overcome; and as for her,--as false as and even more treacherous than Celestin, as she had not love for an excuse,--she pretended to love me, gave me the most alluring hopes, and secretly requested a Swedish count, who was paying court to her, to rid her of me as soon as possible."

"What infernal perfidy! Can it be that women treat you so--young as you are, and amiable, and made to please!"

"Yes, father. But not all of them, luckily."

"Who is this woman, pray, whose heart is so black?"

"An American; or, at least, a person who has lately come from America; for I believe that she is a native-born Frenchwoman; an alleged widow,--very beautiful, I must admit,--who calls herself Madame Baldimer."

"Baldimer; I have never heard that name before."

"She has been in Paris only a year, and frequents a certain--rather eccentric social circle, which is not that which you frequent. Well, I had the good luck to inflict only a trifling wound on the Swedish count, with whom she had the cleverness to involve me in a duel--a most excellent gentleman, who, like myself, has sworn to have no more to do with Madame Baldimer. I have told my friend Celestin what I think of him. And now, father, to enable me to forget entirely this affair and the woman who caused it, let me travel a few months; it will do me good; it will force me to break these Parisian habits and intimacies, which are not all beneficial, as I have had a chance to find out. I shall return a new man, refreshed and sensible. You will let me go, won't you?"

"Yes, my dear boy; although it is painful to me to be deprived of your presence, I am not selfish enough to object to a journey which cannot fail to do you good. To leave Paris for some time will certainly be beneficial to you; and it will be to your advantage to see a little of the world. But you won't be away too long, will you?"

"Two or three months at most."

"Where do you mean to go?"

"I have no idea; I would like to have an opportunity to start at once."

"Mon Dieu! if you care to see Normandie, my doctor came to see me last night, and offered to take me there with him, without expense, in a comfortable post chaise which one of his patients has sent him. He starts to-day, at three o'clock."

"To-day, at three o'clock. Parbleu! that suits me exactly. As well Normandie as any other place. At all events, when I have had enough of it, I can go somewhere else. Quickly, father! give me a line to your doctor, telling him that he will have a travelling companion; meanwhile, I will make what preparations are indispensable, put some money in my pocket--and off we go!"

"You still have some money, I trust?"

"Oh! yes, father; of course, I haven't spent the ten thousand francs you gave me a few days ago."

Albert bit his lips as he spoke; the memory of the cashmere shawl made him sigh; but he soon banished the thought, and went to make his preparations for departure, while Monsieur Vermoncey wrote to his doctor.

While all this was happening, Tobie Pigeonnier had not remained inactive. On leaving Albert, he returned to Paul's stand; but the messenger was not there.

"What good would it do if I should wait for him? I told him to carry Monsieur Vermoncey his son's letter at once. It's too late now for me to tell him not to carry it. I did it with the best intentions. Papa Vermoncey must have received the letter a long while ago; he must think that his son is dead now, and probably he is in terrible distress, scurrying about the suburbs to find some trace of his child; it's a calamity, and I am very sorry; but, after all, when he sees his Albert again, he'll find out that he isn't dead, and he'll be consoled. So I don't need to worry any more about that affair. I must give a little thought to my own concerns now. Albert has given me leave to say that I fought a duel with him and killed him; that is delicious; he is going to travel for some time, my lie won't be discovered right away, and, before it is, my love will be crowned with its greenest myrtle. O superb Plays!

thou shalt be mine! I quiver with joy at the thought. But before I call on her, I must go home and make a most careful toilet."

Tobie bent his steps toward his abode, but, before he arrived there, he recalled the fact that he had not breakfasted as he had hoped to do in the capacity of second in a duel; his stomach told him that he must satisfy its cravings before attending to anything else. He felt in his pocket, and exclaimed:

"_Fichtre!_ I have fifteen francs with me, my whole fortune at this moment. Suppose I treat myself to a _dejeuner a la fourchette_ of the right sort--why not? Albert is going to lend me five hundred francs--to redeem my olive; but, after all, I'm not obliged to go and redeem it to-day. The gentleman with white eyebrows, who is very rich, can afford to wait a few days more. Meanwhile, I'll go to see Aunt Abraham, with my five hundred francs in my pocket, and I'll take care to jingle them so she will think I'm doing a big business, and then perhaps she'll make up her mind to give me an interest in her business. I'll breakfast at the Cafe Anglais. I'm hungry enough to treat myself handsomely."

And the little dandy, swaggering as if he had his cane, and all puffed up with the good fortune that he antic.i.p.ated, entered the Cafe Anglais with his nose in the air, seated himself at a table, called the waiter in a loud voice, ordered oysters, kidneys, chicken _a la tartare_, and beaune premiere, with the a.s.sured air of a man who cares nothing for the expense and whose only thought is to breakfast bountifully. He was served promptly, he ate with zest, his appet.i.te was even keener after the oysters, and became more imperative than ever after the kidneys.

Tobie denied it nothing, until it was completely satisfied. Not until he had eaten for an hour and a half, almost without intermission, did he decide to stop. It was high time; his bill amounted to fourteen francs fifty centimes. He generously gave the waiter fifteen centimes, put the remaining seven sous in his pocket, and went to his lodgings, his brain excited by thoughts of love, and by the bottle of beaune he had consumed.

Tobie pa.s.sed his clothes in review--an operation which required much less time than he could have wished. After a careful examination of his three waistcoats, his two pairs of trousers, and his only coat, he put on those which he judged to be in the best condition; then he curled and crimped and anointed himself, and saturated himself with eau de cologne; as he had no other perfume, he drenched his handkerchief with essence of lemon used to remove stains; the result being that his concierge, when he pa.s.sed, mistook him for a bowl of Roman punch.

Thus arrayed and anointed, young Pigeonnier repaired to Madame Plays's abode.

"She accepted me for her chevalier," he said to himself; "I will go and tell her that she is fully avenged. She will be delighted with me, and she will reward my valor by the sweetest caresses. By the way, what did I kill Albert with? With a pistol? no, that is too commonplace. With a sword--I like that better; it's more after the style of the chevaliers of old; I split his head open--no, I pierced his breast with a sword-thrust. Ah! here is her house; I must not forget the directions she gave me: the little staircase at the right; I am to go up to the first floor, and say: 'I am Tobie,' and I shall be admitted at once.

But, mon Dieu! it just occurs to me; she told me to bring her a token of my victory; sapristi! I forgot all about that; what, in heaven's name, shall I take her for a token?"

Tobie walked back and forth in front of Madame Plays's house, scratching his head in his efforts to think what he could carry her in default of Albert's ears, which she herself had suggested. He searched his pockets, but could find only his handkerchief perfumed with lemon, and the seven sous remaining from his fifteen francs; there was nothing which could possibly be produced as a token of victory.

Tobie had almost determined to present himself without a token, when, as he looked about, he spied at some distance one of the enormous rolls, or _carrots_, which are commonly suspended over the doors of tobacco shops.

It arrested the young man's attention, and an idea entered his mind, which he caught on the wing and clung to. He walked rapidly to the tobacco shop, and arrived there still in possession of his idea, which he proceeded to put into execution.

The dealers in tobacco are almost all women, and Tobie said to the woman behind the counter:

"A cigar, madame, if you please."

"There they are, monsieur; take your choice."

"Oh! I want something better than those; I must have a very fine five-sou cigar; one can get a very fine cigar for five sous."

"Yes, monsieur; here are some; but if you want a still larger one, we make them for ten sous; they're magnificent--almost as big as carrots.