Sister Anne - Part 8
Library

Part 8

"For heaven's sake, monsieur le baron," said Menard, putting his nose in at the door, "don't let this go any further! These gentlemen certainly have no intention of----"

"Hallo! he's a baron!" exclaimed another of the peddlers; "I took him for a Swiss liniment-maker, with his silk handkerchief across his breast."

"Did you see their carriage?" said a third; "it's an old shack I wouldn't put my donkey in!"

"The wretches! to talk so about King Stanislas's berlin!" said Menard; but he made the remark in such a low tone that no one suspected that he had spoken.

"Once more, hold your peace!" said Dubourg, "or we'll teach you whom you have to deal with."

"Indeed!" said the peddlers, brandishing their cudgels; "perhaps we might teach you something more."

Frederic, who had been silent thus far, took a pair of pistols from his pocket, and, walking toward the table at which the four men were seated, he said calmly:

"Messieurs, whatever may be the t.i.tles we bear, we are men, and we are quite able to prove it; we are not accustomed to using clubs, but here is something that will make matters even between us. Everyone knows how to fire a pistol. Which of you would like to begin with me?"

"Yes," said Dubourg, producing in his turn a pair of pistols of heavier calibre; "and this is for the man who comes forward next."

At sight of the pistols, the peddlers changed color and dropped their cudgels; those who presume too far upon their strength to insult those whom they deem weaker than themselves, generally appear very cowardly and foolish when confronted by such arguments.

Goton shrieked when she saw the fire-arms; the innkeeper came limping into the room, and Monsieur Menard, proposing to retreat to the end of the pa.s.sage, where it was quite dark, collided with the hostess, who was coming to find out what was happening in the living-room.

The hostess, whose acquaintance we have not made as yet, was a woman of fifty, short of stature, and almost as broad as she was tall. Her corpulence had within a short time increased to such a degree that she could hardly walk from her desk to the kitchen; even so, she had to make a judicious and abundant use of flour to keep herself from chafing when she walked. This difficulty in moving made her very sedentary; she pa.s.sed almost all her time in an armchair which the village carpenter had made for her, of sufficient breadth to admit her enormous bulk. This mode of life naturally caused her embonpoint to make rapid progress from day to day. It was beginning to become disquieting, and the innkeeper, limping as he did, took a long time to walk around his spouse.

She had heard Goton's outcry and her husband's exclamations, and, suspecting that something extraordinary was taking place, she had left her broad armchair and waddled along the corridor leading to the living-room. As this corridor was narrow, her body closed it hermetically and rubbed against the part.i.tions on each side; so that it was impossible for anyone to pa.s.s through in the opposite direction, unless by jumping over her head or crawling between her legs.

It was this enormous ma.s.s with which Monsieur Menard collided when he attempted to leave the field of battle, all his youthful vigor being restored by the sight of the pistols. Despite the violence with which the tutor hurled himself against her, the hostess did not waver; solid as a rock, and upheld, too, by the walls of the corridor, the bulky dame contented herself with crying in a shrill falsetto:

"What's all this? who is it?"

Menard, still dazed by the shock, was determined none the less to force a pa.s.sage, and he returned toward the person he had struck, hoping that she had moved to one side or the other; he turned to the right and ran his nose against a breast which rivalled that of the Hottentot Venus; he stepped back and turned to the left, and collided with an arm that would have darkened a window.

"Mon Dieu! where am I?" exclaimed poor Menard, who had no idea of what he had come in contact with, and, still trying to go forward, lowered his head like a ram; while the hostess cried, louder than ever:

"Who is it? what's he trying to do? where does he want to go?"

Her shrieks attracted the attention of the travellers, peace having been restored in the living-room, since Frederic and Dubourg had exhibited their pistols; the four peddlers had become more amiable and had mumbled some apologies, with which the young men were content, having no desire for a quarrel with such adversaries. So general attention was now directed to the corridor.

"It's my wife's voice," said the innkeeper; "something very funny must have happened to make her leave her chair!"

He hurried out into the pa.s.sage with Goton, who carried a light; Dubourg and Frederic followed them, and they discovered the hostess, who was shrieking louder than ever, because the sound of approaching footsteps had increased Menard's terror; he had resolved to pa.s.s at any cost, and, being unable to force a pa.s.sage on either side, had dropped on his hands and knees and tried to crawl between the corpulent dame's legs. But she, determined that the unknown, whom she believed to be a thief, should not escape, could devise no better way of detaining him than to sit upon him; so that she was fairly astride Menard, when light was thrown on the scene.

Goton laughed uproariously, and the innkeeper was petrified with amazement. Frederic and Dubourg tried to discover the meaning of that amusing tableau.

"I can't stand it any longer," gasped Menard, in a dying voice.

"I've got him! he's caught!" exclaimed the hostess triumphantly.

The poor fellow was so effectively caught, that he would have been stifled if not rescued. But the innkeeper, jealous of his chaste better half, whom he regarded as the most beautiful creature to be found within a hundred leagues, instantly stooped and pulled Menard from under his wife's skirts, swearing roundly.

"You villain! sacrebleu! what was you doing under there? ten thousand eyes!"

"Oh! he didn't do any harm, I promise you, ducky!" said the hostess sweetly, to allay her husband's suspicions; while Menard, restored at last to the light of day, struggled to his feet, with wig awry and distorted features.

"Look ye, my friend," continued the innkeeper, "you didn't go in there, sacrebleu! to look for violets, did you?"

Menard looked from one to another, with a dazed expression; he had not fully recovered himself. Dubourg succeeded in adjusting matters to everybody's satisfaction; he divined why Menard was trying to get away, so he dispelled the host's suspicions, and rea.s.sured his wife concerning the quarrel in the living-room. Then he ordered Goton to show them to their bedrooms; which she did after the landlady had concluded to return to her armchair and thus uncork the pa.s.sage.

The best quarters that they could give our three friends consisted of two very dirty rooms, with the ceiling rafters exposed, which cats and spiders seemed in the habit of occupying in company with the guests of the house. In each room there was a wretched bed, partly surrounded by blue and white curtains resembling in design the common salad-bowl we see in the country. Both beds were more than five feet high.

"These are modest quarters," said Frederic, with a smile; "but in war time we must take what comes, and it's the same when we travel, eh, my dear Menard?"

"To be sure; a night is soon pa.s.sed, and these beds look comfortable."

"We shall need a ladder to climb into them."

"I see only two beds, monsieur le comte."

"Oh! don't worry about me," said Dubourg; "I shall not go to bed; I have letters to write and despatches to send; and I will finish the night in a chair."

"But I don't see any chairs, monsieur le baron."

"Never mind--a chair or a bench. When a man has slept in camp, he's not hard to please. But the supper is a long while coming; I'll take a look at the kitchen."

Dubourg went downstairs, and Frederic walked to a window which looked on the fields. The moon was shining on the village, where the most perfect quiet reigned. The young man mused upon the contrast between life in Paris and in that hamlet; he reflected that, at that moment, when the villagers had all retired, the fashionable inhabitants of the city were at the play or at social festivities, exhibiting their fine clothes and jewels, and seeking pleasure. But need one leave the city to find striking contrasts? In the house where people are dancing on the first floor, on the second there is mourning for the death of a husband or father; on the third, a young man is making a pa.s.sionate declaration of love to his sweetheart; on the fourth, a drunkard is beating his wife; on the fifth, a gambler is filling his pockets with gold preparatory to going out; and under the eaves, a poor girl pa.s.ses the night in toil to earn bread for her mother.

While Frederic abandoned himself to such reflections, Monsieur Menard inspected the beds, and was pained to find that what he had deemed at first sight so soft and comfortable was but a wretched mattress, and a straw bed itself nearly four feet thick.

"What an insane idea it is of these villagers to have such enormous straw beds!" said Menard, as he examined the sheets, which scratched his hand. "And I fancied that I was going to sink into a soft feather-bed!

These are terribly poor sheets! And yet, monsieur le baron says that one is well taken care of here! I shall go to bed in my drawers. G.o.d grant that the supper may make up for the rest!"

Dubourg had gone down to speak to his postilion, with whom he settled his account, ordering him to leave the place before dawn; for he had only three louis left of the twelve Frederic had lent him, and he was not anxious to keep a carriage that he could not pay for. That business adjusted, he prowled about Mademoiselle Goton, to whom he wished to say a few words. The servant was inclined to look favorably on Dubourg, because he had borne himself gallantly with the peddlers; for a courageous act pleases a country wench no less than a _pet.i.te-maitresse_; but Goton had to help her master in the kitchen, and then serve the four men in the living-room, who seemed disposed to pa.s.s the night drinking, and to postpone their departure till daybreak.

They laughingly toyed with the buxom servant, who had much ado to defend herself from the familiarities of those gentry; but Goton was accustomed to fighting with such clowns: she boxed the ears of one and kicked another; she pinched and scratched, and the fellows found her all the more seductive.

Being busily occupied thus in all directions, Goton could do no more than whisper a word of hope to Dubourg, giving him to understand that the peddlers would be gone at daybreak, her employers asleep, and herself more at liberty. This promise delighted our friend; he was talking with Goton at the foot of the staircase, and gave her a resounding kiss. The girl ran away; but, on looking up, Dubourg saw Menard, who had come out, with a candle in his hand, to ascertain whether they were likely to have any supper, and was decidedly amazed to see the Palatine of Rava embracing a dishwasher.

Dubourg, who was never disconcerted, went to meet him, saying:

"The Emperor Heliogabalus rewarded the cook who invented a new dish; I embrace the person who informs me that our supper is ready."

Menard asked nothing more; he went back to Frederic with Dubourg, and Goton laid the table in one of the rooms.

"Now to the table, and _vive la gaiete_!" said Dubourg, more at ease since he was certain that he would soon be rid of his carriage. Menard responded to the invitation by a gracious smile, and Frederic finally decided to leave the moon and turn his mind to earthly affairs.

"Let us taste the wine first of all," said Dubourg; "is it the best, my child?"

"Yes, monsieur; it's the best, for we haven't got any other."