Chaudoreille, without appearing in the least disconcerted, listened to Touquet, shaking his hat meanwhile, and wringing his mantle; he smiled with a mischievous air as he listened to the barber's last words, and answered,--

"Your house! By jingo, you make a good deal of fuss about your house. We shall see presently whether you receive any suspicious persons."

"What do you mean by that?" cried Touquet, angrily.

"Hush! Don't make so much noise, I beg of you. Don't wake the cat up, she is asleep."

"Chaudoreille, I'm losing patience. Say what you want, or I'll be the death of you."

"Well, what the deuce! I came to do you a service, and it seems to me that that shouldn't make you angry. Listen now, but I beg of you don't lose your temper, for that will make me break the thread of my discourse."

The barber restrained himself as well as he could, and Chaudoreille, after pa.s.sing his cuff over the edge of his hat to give it a l.u.s.tre, commenced his story in a low voice,--

"I was going this morning to Saint-Germain's fair and found myself without money, something which very often happens with me. I had eaten nothing since yesterday."

"You have eaten and drunk since, I'll answer for it."

"Yes, certainly, thanks to my genius. I was making some rather sad reflections on the instability of my luck at piquet, the treacherous chances of lansquenet and the lack of solidity in gambling--"

"I should like to make you reflect at this minute on the strength of a good stick."

"Hush, don't interrupt me. I perceived at the fair two young men, youths, you know; some of those faces which seem to say, 'Who will come and do me?' those faces without mischief which are a veritable good fortune for men of parts. The poor little fellows were playing at skittles."

"Come to the point. You are abusing my patience."

"This all leads up to the matter which regards you. I approached the innocents and showed them a new stroke which they did not know, I'll answer for it. In short, we dined together, and I only took a pistole from them for the lesson, which was very reasonable, but if they had refused me I would have spitted them both like sparrows. Don't stamp your foot, I'm nearing the end. I was returning gayly, according to my habit, when I met a country woman in the street who seemed to me agreeable, although I saw little of her. Her carriage was free and unconstrained, she was big and strong; I was very much taken by her. I caught up to her and I said some charming things to her. Would you believe it? not a word in response; I repeated them, still no answer; I approached her and pinched her, and, my dear fellow, I received a most vigorous slap in the face."

"Well, hang it! she did well. Finish your chatter if you don't wish to receive a second."

"Stunned for an instant, I soon recovered my wits. I pursued the traitress. I saw her enter--where do you suppose?--your house."

"She came into my house? It is impossible; you are deceived."

"No, by all the devils! I know your dwelling well enough. She came in by the alleyway and shut the door immediately."

"What time was it then?"

"About seven o'clock. And I can answer for it that she didn't come out, for I haven't stirred from the front of the house."

"What, wretch, that woman has been so long in my house, and you only now come to tell me?"

"What do you expect? I didn't know what to do; between you and I, I thought the dame came to see you, but seeing that there was still a light in my scholar's room, I thought--"

"A light in Blanche's room?"

"Why, yes, by jingo! There's one there at this moment, from which I concluded--"

The barber hastily arose, lit a second lamp, took his sword and directed his steps towards the staircase at the back, saying to Chaudoreille,--

"Remain here and wait for me."

"Why, don't you want me to come with you?"

"Remain, here, I tell you, but if you have deceived me, tremble; your chastis.e.m.e.nt shall be proportioned to my anger."

"May the devil fly away with him," said Chaudoreille, ensconcing himself in a corner of the room. "I came to render him a service and he's going to flog me if he doesn't find the guilty person. That slap in the face may be followed by something still more cruel."

Touquet ran rapidly up the stairs to Blanche's room; he knocked, and ordered the young girl to open the door; we have seen the effect which these unexpected words produced on the young couple within the chamber.

Urbain remained motionless, his arms still embracing the young girl, who was only half dressed. In a second all the suspicions which the situation would give rise to, in the mind of the person who had discovered them, flashed across him. Blanche, still innocent and pure, though her virtue had been endangered, Blanche would be adjudged guilty, and he was the cause of it. How could he prevent it? All these thoughts, rapid as lightning, transpired during the time which elapsed before the barber knocked for the second time, and loudly reiterated in a threatening voice the order which he had given. Urbain glanced at the chimney, seeing only that way of escaping from sight. He was about to run to it when Blanche stopped him. She had already recovered from her first fright, and said to him, with a calmness which astonished him,--

"Where are you going?"

"To hide myself."

"No, no, it is unnecessary for you to hide. Why not tell the whole truth?"

"O Blanche, if anyone finds me with you--at night?"

"Well, what of it? We have done nothing wrong. It is much better to confess everything at once than to lie about it," and the lovely child ran to the door, drew the bolt and opened to the barber. The latter darted into the room. His first looks were bent on Urbain, who was standing by the hearth. Touquet only looked at him for a moment, for he had instantly recognized the young bachelor, and drawing his sword he rushed upon him, crying,--

"Scoundrel! You shall pay with your life for your temerity."

Urbain remained motionless, appearing to brave Touquet's fury, but seeing the homicidal weapon flash, Blanche cried out, and, quick as the barber, ran and placed herself before Urbain, whom she covered with her body; then, lifting her hands towards Touquet, she cried with an accent which came from her heart,--

"O monsieur, he has done nothing wrong."

The barber's weapon nearly grazed Blanche's bosom, but the young girl's accents were so touching, her sweet features wore an expression so n.o.ble, that the barber himself could not resist her. His anger seemed vanquished. He dropped his sword, and said in a less gloomy voice,--

"This man has outraged you, and you don't wish me to avenge you? You ask me to pardon him? Very well, I shall not strike."

"What?" said Blanche, surprised. "What, monsieur, is it because of me that you were about to hurt Urbain? Oh, you would have been very wrong.

You say he has outraged me; but, no, monsieur, I swear to you he has not. He has told me that he loves me very much, that he will love me all his life, but there is nothing outrageous in that, for when you knocked at the door I believe I was just going to tell him that I loved him also. You see that I am just as guilty as he is, and that it is necessary for you to punish both of us."

Blanche's words had an accent of truth which it was impossible to mistake. The barber glanced in astonishment at her and at Urbain, who saw that he then believed, despite appearances, that Blanche still retained her purity. However, the disorder which reigned in the apartment, the singular costume of the young girl and of Urbain, which was divided between that of the two s.e.xes, all appeared to confuse Touquet's ideas.

"Listen to us," said Blanche to him, "you shall know the whole truth.

Urbain, to be sure, is a little to blame, for he has come to see us every evening for nearly a fortnight, but he came as a young girl. At first I was angry with him also, but finally I have forgiven him. Urbain has such a sweet expression, and then, I already loved Ursule very much, and that made me love him also. He said that he wished to be my lover, my husband, that he could not live without me, and that it would depend upon you to make us happy forever. Ah, you will be good, will you not, my dear friend? You have already done much for me. Give me Urbain for my husband, and I promise you that I will never ask anything of you again."

The barber, while listening to Blanche, muttered to himself,--

"For nearly a fortnight he has been coming here every evening, it is by a great chance that I discovered him today, and yet I believed that I could easily guard a young girl and brave the enterprises of lovers."

"Monsieur," said Urbain, who up to that moment had kept silent, "I confess all the wrong I have done, and love alone must be my excuse; but I adored Blanche, whom I had seen through the panes of that window, and you would not permit any man to approach her. I tried once to begin an acquaintance with you, but the manner in which you received me left me no hope. I then consulted nothing but my love. Thanks to this disguise I deceived old Marguerite, who consented to introduce me here. I saw Blanche, and could I renounce the hope of possessing her? She was deceived as well as her nurse. Under the name of Ursule I had the good fortune to gain her confidence and, by some interesting stories, to amuse old Marguerite. I rejoiced in my happiness without daring to make myself known. Today, on account of the storm, the rain, which fell so violently, the advanced hour, she invited me to remain."

"Yes," said Blanche, with an angelic smile, "He was going to sleep with me. I myself begged him to do so."

The barber knit his brows and glanced angrily at the young man. Urbain instantly threw himself at his feet, crying,--