"As if he went on foot! He's always in a carriage or on horseback; and he rides at full speed."

"And he can't come as far as this!" said Louise, with a profound sigh.

"And those lovely ladies who dance so well--he goes to see them, of course?"

"The ballet dancers! fie, fie! What about morals! We used those mountebanks just as we use the magnet to attract a lot of things; but afterward--_retro, Satanas_!"

"But I hope he still thinks of us!" said Nicole.

"The proof that he thinks of you, Dame Nicole, is that he has instructed me to hand you this; for he wants you to be happy and to have everything you need. And he's very generous, is my pupil. Here, take it; there's a thousand francs in it. That's a very pretty sum."

As he spoke, Monsieur Gerondif handed Nicole a bag of money. She took it, exclaiming:

"A thousand francs! Oh! that's too much, a thousand francs. It's a handsome present, but if I could have given him a kiss at the same time, I'd have enjoyed it much better."

Jacquinot, who had just waked up, looked at the bag of money and muttered sleepily:

"A thousand francs! How many casks does that make at six sous the litre?"

"And didn't he give you anything for me, monsieur?" inquired Louise. But in a moment she added hastily: "Oh! it's not a present, it's not money that I mean; but a kind word, a remembrance, a word to show me that he hasn't forgotten me. Pray try to remember, monsieur."

Monsieur Gerondif scratched his nose and replied:

"No, my sweet girl, the marquis gave me no message for you in particular, but he told me to wish you all the best of health."

Louise turned pale and averted her eyes. Whereupon the tutor went to her side and said in an undertone:

"Pray do not grieve, _mia cara bella_. Although the marquis forgets you, there is one who will never forget you, who will watch over your future, and will not allow you to vegetate in obscurity in this village.

Patience; you are still very young, although perfectly developed already. Let us wait a bit; Penelope waited a long while for the return of Ulysses, but he came at last and killed all her suitors. That man shot perfectly with the bow!"

Louise gazed at Monsieur Gerondif in surprise, as if to ask him what he meant; but he had turned to Nicole.

"Now, I must bid you adieu," he said.

"What, already, Monsieur Gerondif, without eating a mouthful, and without taking a drop to drink?"

"Have a gla.s.s of wine," said Jacquinot; "n.o.body ever refuses that."

"Pardon me, my dear Frimousset, but it's very easy to refuse it, when you are in the habit, as I am, of drinking fine wines; your _sour_ stuff would make me sick now."

"But why are you in such a hurry to go?"

"Excellent Nicole, I know that there are potted quail for dinner to-day,--Mademoiselle Turlurette told me so,--and it would be uncivil to myself not to take my share of them. Au revoir, virtuous country folk; Nicole, watch over this little pearl--_margarita_; I commend her to your care. And you, sweet Louise, do not give way to sorrow; you have a grand future before you a.s.suredly! _This oracle is more reliable than the oracle of Calchas._ I wish you all the best of health, and I fly to Villemonble to take the diligence."

As he spoke, Monsieur Gerondif bestowed an expansive smile upon each in turn; he added to the young girl's smile an exceedingly ardent glance, and took his leave, resuming his shiny hat and his glazed gloves.

"He tells me not to give way to sorrow," thought Louise, when he had gone; "and Cherubin gave him no message for me!"

XV

MONSIEUR POTERNE'S TRADE

Cherubin must inevitably appear ungrateful and fickle in his affection, for he seems to have forgotten very quickly good Nicole, who had reared him, and little Louise, his playmate, whom he said that he loved so dearly. But such ingrat.i.tude and inconstancy are too natural in man for us to be surprised at finding them in a mere boy. Cherubin had just entered his eighteenth year; he was surrounded by people whose only aim was to make life in Paris attractive to him, who were constantly occupied in affording him new pleasures, and who did not fail to make sport of him and rally him on account of the time he had pa.s.sed at his nurse's. Ridicule is a very potent weapon among the French; grown men fear and do everything to avoid it; could a child of seventeen be expected to set it at naught?

However, Cherubin was not so forgetful as one might suppose. He had often longed to go to see Nicole and Louise; but, in order to divert him from that design, they had, in the first place, carefully concealed from him the nurse's two visits to the house; then they had told him that Madame Frimousset had sent Louise away to a kinswoman in Bretagne, in order to help her to forget the grief caused by her young friend's departure.

The prospect of not finding Louise at Gagny had considerably cooled the young man's longing to revisit the village. But, as he was still desirous that his nurse should be happy, he had, as we have seen, despatched Monsieur Gerondif to her with money, begging him also to inquire about Louise, to ascertain whether she was likely to return to Gagny soon--in short, to satisfy himself concerning her future.

On returning from his visit to Nicole, Monsieur Gerondif did not fail to inform his young master that Louise was still in Bretagne, in the family of a respectable, well-to-do farmer, who treated her like his own daughter; and that she was very happy there.

Cherubin smiled faintly at the thought that his former playmate had entirely forgotten him so soon; he felt a pang of sadness and regret, and for a moment he thought of going to Bretagne, to reproach Louise for changing so and for ceasing to love him.

For we are like that at every age: we are quite ready to forget other people, but we are not willing that they should forget us; we are inconstant and unfaithful, but we hope that others will be constant and faithful to us; in short, we have no hesitation in deceiving, but we do not wish to be deceived.

Darena's arrival always brought animation to the hotel de Grandvilain; and, while seeking to divert Cherubin, he availed himself of the acquaintance to turn Monsieur Poterne's talents to account.

For instance, the ugly hanger-on brought the young marquis two saddle horses one morning, and, a.s.suring him that it was a magnificent opportunity, which he must not let slip, induced him to pay three thousand francs for a pair of nags that were worth five hundred at the very most.

At another time, it was a tilbury which Poterne had bought from a Russian prince; at another, some fine hunting dogs of a very rare breed; in short, Monsieur Poterne had reached the point where he dealt in everything; he never appeared at the house without offering Cherubin something at a bargain; he even brought canes, silk handkerchiefs, parrots and cats. The young man bought everything, and paid with the most absolute confidence. But Jasmin, who was beginning to consider that Monsieur Poterne's bargains were terribly extravagant, was in very ill humor whenever he saw him enter the house; and he tried to devise some means by which he could rid his master of his visits. Unfortunately the old servant had never had a brilliant imagination, and as he grew old that faculty had become more confined instead of developing.

Monfreville might have thwarted Darena's schemes and Poterne's little commercial ventures; but he had been obliged to go for some time to an estate that he owned in the neighborhood of Fontainebleau, where considerable repairs were necessary. When he left Paris, however, he urged his young friend to distrust Monsieur Poterne's services and obliging disposition; but Cherubin was too young not to be trustful; and moreover, Darena always seemed amazed at the good bargains which his steward found for the young marquis.

While Monfreville was absent, the mansion became crowded with horses, hunting-dogs, birds of all varieties, gothic vases, and objects said to be rare or curious, which Monsieur Poterne brought thither every day.

At last, Jasmin said to his young master, one morning:

"If this goes on, monsieur, your house will look like a bric-a-brac shop! You can't turn around here! This Monsieur Poterne induces you to buy too many things; these antique, rare vases look very ugly to me; the hunting dogs make a frightful noise, and when they are let go, they bite everybody's legs. And then the parrots shriek so, and you have five of them! That so-called Spanish cat he sold you has changed color, and is nothing but a common white cat now. And you have nineteen canes, my dear master; I have counted them. What do you mean to do with nineteen canes?

Monsieur le marquis, your father, had only one, and he never carried more at one time."

"Hush, Jasmin," Cherubin replied, laughing at his old servant's distress; "am I not rich? haven't I the means to gratify my whims?"

"Excuse me, my dear master, but you buy all these things because Monsieur Poterne tells you they're magnificent, great bargains, and a thousand other things to tempt you; why, you would never have taken it into your head to have ten dogs, nineteen canes, five parrots and a turtle, and to fill this house with old vases and strange looking jugs, which I call hideous, as I do the turtle, which frightens me."

"Because you don't know about such things. Monsieur Darena always congratulates me on my purchases; he thinks everything is very fine and not dear."

"Oh! as to Monsieur Darena," said Jasmin, shaking his head, "I don't call him economical! By the way, my dear master, has he ever repaid the money that you paid the tailor, the shirt-maker and the boot-maker for him?"

"No; but that isn't very important. He has probably forgotten it.

Besides, Jasmin, you told me then that it was very good form to lend money to one's friends, and that my father often did it."

"That is true, monsieur, but all the difference is that your father's friends paid back what they borrowed."

This conversation was interrupted by Poterne's arrival; he still wore his shabby box-coat, beneath which he carried something of considerable size, which he kept carefully out of sight. Jasmin made a very significant grimace at the appearance of the very person of whom he had been speaking. But Monsieur Poterne came forward with a most humble air, bowing to the ground, and trying to a.s.sume a pleasant expression.

"Ah! it's Monsieur Poterne!" said Cherubin, laughing at his old servant's pantomime. "I was just talking about you with Jasmin, who declares that my Spanish cat is turning white."