Part 22

Monsieur de Mardeille went to the window and raised the curtain. Georgette was in her usual place, and seemed to him even more seductive than ever. He feared that she might be offended with him; however, he could not resist the desire to open the window and seat himself at it; then he watched for a glance from her. It was not long before she raised her eyes in his direction; whereupon he made her a low bow, to which she replied by a most affable smile. He was enchanted, radiant; he passed an hour at the window; and Georgette looked at him and smiled several times.

"She isn't angry; she will receive me kindly--I saw that in her eyes," he said to himself. "Yes, I can call on her without fear. True; but if I don't follow out her suggestion, I shall not make any progress."

The day passed, and Monsieur de Mardeille had been unable to decide what course to pursue. He went to his desk several times, looked through his cashbox, counted the banknotes, gazed at them with a sigh, then restored them to their place. Love and avarice were fighting a battle to the death in his heart, and his long-standing habits were being subjected to a cruel shock.

The next day he was still wavering, hesitating, unable to decide upon any plan, when Frontin suddenly came to him and said:

"Do come and look out of the window, monsieur; Mamzelle Georgette is in the courtyard, pumping; if you could see how gracefully she pumps!"

"Yes, yes, let's see that!"

Our lover hastened to take his place at a window that overlooked the pump. Georgette was there, in the little petticoat that clung about her hips; and the exercise of pumping developed all her good points most happily. Did the girl suspect it? Probably, for she seemed to take pleasure in what is to most people tiresome labor.

Monsieur de Mardeille, having gazed for several minutes at the animated picture before him, hurried to his cashbox and took out a bundle of banknotes. His hesitation was at an end; he stuffed them hastily into a wallet, which he put in his pocket; then, making a rapid toilet, he left his room and betook himself to Georgette's apartment, saying to himself, like Cæsar as he passed the Rubicon: "_Alea jacta est!_"

The young shirtmaker had hardly time enough to leave the pump, reach her room, and resume her work, ere she saw Monsieur de Mardeille enter, eager, agitated, and throbbing with hope. He rushed toward Georgette, took a seat near her, and said:

"My dear little neighbor, I have come to ask your pardon----"

"My pardon! Why, I have no recollection that you have offended me, monsieur."

"Oh! yes, yes! The last time that I was here I said things to you that I shouldn't have said."

"If you did, monsieur, I have forgotten them."

"Ah! that is well done! how amiable of you! But I could not live away from you, charming Georgette; I was too unhappy!"

"Really?"

"It is so true, that to prove my love I have decided to submit to every sacrifice--which I never did before for any woman. But what would one not do to touch that bewitching petticoat, which always flies when I try to catch it! See, fascinating girl; take this wallet; it contains twelve thousand francs in banknotes! Will this put an end to your rigorous treatment of me?"

Georgette's cheeks flushed; a gleam of joy, of triumph, shone in her eyes; she took the portfolio, looked at it without opening it, and said in an uncertain voice:

"As you have done this, I must needs yield to you. But I ask you for a respite of one more day. I want to think of my family to-day, to recall my childish memories; but to-morrow, oh! to-morrow, you will no longer find me cruel!"

"I cannot refuse anything to her who promises me perfect bliss! So to-morrow you will not be wild and shy any more--you will let me touch that little villain of a skirt that puts my heart in a flutter?"

"Oh! I promise you that you shall touch it all you choose to-morrow, and that I shall not object!"

"Enough, enough, my divinity! I do not care to hear any more, and I leave you until to-morrow; for if I should stay with you, I would not answer for my self-restraint. Until to-morrow! We will breakfast together, and your windows will be closed, won't they?"

"They will be, you will see."

Monsieur de Mardeille took his leave; he was in raptures, and said to himself:

"She put me off till to-morrow. I have an idea that, before yielding to me, she wanted to know by count if there really was the amount I mentioned in the wallet. She's a cautious damsel; she won't allow herself to be caught very easily! But what difference does it make to me? She will find that I haven't deceived her; and this time she will keep her promise, I am sure."

An afternoon and evening are interminable when the next day is to witness the fulfilment of all one's hopes. Monsieur de Mardeille did what he could to kill the time: he called on some friends, dined at a restaurant, looked in at several theatres, went home very late, went to bed, and fell asleep at last, dreaming of Georgette.

The so ardently desired day broke at last. Our gallant awoke rather late, and rang for Frontin, who came in on tiptoe.

"What time is it, Frontin?"

"Nearly ten o'clock, monsieur."

"What! you let me sleep so late as this without waking me?"

"Wake monsieur! He did not tell me to, and I should never think of taking the liberty!"

"No matter! prepare everything for my toilet. You must curl my hair, and take pains with it; I want to be very handsome this morning."

"Oh! monsieur always is that!"

"Not bad, for a numskull!"

"I mean that when a man is rich he is always handsome."

"You are talking nonsense now. By the way, Frontin, look out of the dining-room window and tell me if my little neighbor Georgette is at her window."

Frontin obeyed; in a moment he returned and said:

"It's very extraordinary, monsieur; all the windows are closed in Mamzelle Georgette's rooms, and usually they're all wide open!"

"Closed!" repeated Monsieur de Mardeille, with a smile. "Oh! I remember; that's what I asked her to do, yesterday; that proves that she is expecting me. Stupid of me to sleep so late!--Come, Frontin, be quick about my hair."

The servant dressed his master's hair in haste. When he had put the finishing touches to it, Monsieur de Mardeille said to him:

"Now, go to the sideboard and get some madeira, bordeaux, and champagne, which you will carry to my little neighbor, and tell her that I am at your heels. I will be at her room in five minutes."

Frontin disappeared; but he returned before his master had finished dressing; he had two bottles under his arms and the third in his hand, and his face wore a more inane expression than usual.

"How is this, imbecile? Haven't you done yet what I told you? Why don't you carry those bottles to Georgette's?" shouted Monsieur de Mardeille.

"I beg your pardon, monsieur; I've been there, but I couldn't find anyone. That's why I've come back with my bottles."

"Couldn't find anyone! She has gone out to buy something, no doubt.--Couldn't you wait on her landing a minute?"

"That is what I thought of doing at first, monsieur; but it was just as well I didn't, for it seems that I should have wasted my time."

"Wasted your time? What do you mean? Come, come! explain yourself!"

"When I was coming back, monsieur, I met the concierge.--'Has Mamzelle Georgette gone out already?' I said. 'Do you know whether she'll be back soon?'--At that he began to laugh, and he said: 'Pardi! if you wait for her, you'll waste your time; she went away last night.'"

"Went away last night? Nonsense! you don't know what you're saying; you misunderstood! Went away! where did she go?"

"That's what I asked, monsieur. It seems that the girl has moved. She paid the concierge last night; she sent for an upholsterer, and sold him all her furniture; then she took a cab, and off she went without saying where she was going."

Monsieur de Mardeille turned green, red, and ash-colored in turn.

"A glass of water, Frontin! a glass of water!" he stammered, dropping on a chair. "I think I am going to faint."

The servant hastily gave his master a glass of water, saying:

"Was monsieur so very much in love with our little neighbor?"

At that, Monsieur de Mardeille threw the water in Frontin's face.

"Hold your tongue, you brute! I am robbed, that's what I am! Fetch the concierge; I must speak to him."

"He has something for you from Mamzelle Georgette, monsieur; for he said to me: 'Is your master awake? I've got something to give him in person from this young woman, who gave me the parcel before she went away.'"

"And you didn't tell me that, you idiot! Go, run, and tell him to come up instantly!"

"Hark! monsieur, someone's ringing; that must be him. I'll go and let him in."

The old beau was still wavering between hope and fear.

"This package--why, she must have returned me my banknotes," he thought. "She has probably reflected, and concluded to remain virtuous. If that's how it is, I must make the best of it."

The concierge entered his tenant's apartment, bringing a rather large parcel, carefully wrapped in paper; he carried it on his outstretched arms, as if he were delivering the keys of a city on a salver, and handed it to Monsieur de Mardeille, who looked at it, scrutinized it, and at once said to himself:

"I didn't give her enough banknotes to make so large a parcel as this!"

"This is what the young woman on the entresol told me to give you, monsieur, when she went away."

"Went away! But why did you let the girl go away? Did you give her notice to quit?"

"No, monsieur; but she paid in full and one quarter ahead, so I couldn't prevent her from going, especially as she seemed in a great hurry."

"And you didn't ask her where she was going?"

"I beg your pardon; she told me that she was going back to her province, but that she should come to Paris again in a week."

"And she didn't leave you her address?"

"No, monsieur; but she left me this little note for you."

"Give it to me! you should have begun with that! Leave me now.--You go, too, Frontin."

The concierge and the valet left the room together, agreeing that it was too bad that he had not opened the parcel in their presence.

"I should have liked to know what it was the little shirtmaker sent him," said the concierge.

"You had it in your hands; couldn't you feel what there was inside the paper?"

"Faith, no!"

"Was it hard?"

"No; it was soft."

"Then it's probably a cheese that she had sent to her from her province."

When he was alone, Monsieur de Mardeille lost no time in opening the parcel; it contained the little black petticoat that Georgette usually wore.

"Her petticoat! She sends me her petticoat!" cried Monsieur de Mardeille. "What bitter mockery!"

Then he unsealed the letter and read these words:

"I told you that to-day you would be able to hold and fondle my little petticoat at your leisure. You see that I keep my word; here it is. You will think very badly of me, will you not, monsieur? Before you condemn me, wait until you have seen me again, which will be as soon as I can possibly arrange it. Yes, have no fear; you shall hear from me."

Monsieur de Mardeille was speechless; the letter dropped from his hands.

XVIII

A BLASÉ YOUNG MAN

It was a fortnight after the events we have narrated.

In a very handsome apartment on Rue de la Chaussée-d'Antin, a young man attired in a superb robe de chambre was strolling listlessly from one room to another, smoking a cigarette.

This young man was the Vicomte de Sommerston. The descendant of a very wealthy Irish family, Edward de Sommerston was born in France and had never chosen to visit the home of his ancestors. He had come into possession of an income of eighty thousand francs at the age of twenty-one, and had immediately plunged into the life of pleasure, dissipation, and debauchery which ages men so rapidly.

He was tall, well built, handsome, and rich--this was twice more than enough to kill in ten years a man who was unable to resist his passions. The viscount was now twenty-nine; he was not dead yet, but he was not much better than that; he had not only used, but abused everything. The list of his mistresses was enormously long, especially as there were many of them whom he had known no more than a week, as he was an essentially fickle and capricious youth. The woman he adored to-day was an object of indifference to him to-morrow. Unluckily for him, he had never fallen in with any cruel charmers, his reputation as a rake and _mauvais sujet_ being, on the contrary, a powerful recommendation with the ladies to whom he addressed his homage.

Edward had run through the half of his fortune; he had enough remaining to enable him to live comfortably, if he had known how to make a wise use of it; but he did not know how to do anything, even to amuse himself: everything was a burden and a bore to him. He was no longer capable of loving; he had ruined his stomach by flooding it with champagne and malvoisie; he still gambled from time to time, but without enjoyment unless luck was exceedingly unfavorable to him; when he lost heavily, he experienced a sort of excitement which brought a little life to his pallid, wasted face.

A single passion retained its power over him: he still smoked. It was impossible to meet him without a cigarette in his mouth; and that was followed by another and another and another; wherever he might be, at home or elsewhere, he smoked continually; he could not do without it, he said. He owed that lamentable habit to the foolish good nature of those ladies who allowed him to smoke in their rooms, and sometimes smoked with him. What do you think about the fair sex smoking?

To no purpose had the doctors told the viscount:

"You make a mistake to smoke so much; it's injuring your health; you cough constantly, your lungs are weak, and you'll dry them up completely by smoking as you do; you'll go into a consumption."

These warnings, instead of being acted upon, had produced the opposite effect on the young man, who insisted that he knew better than the doctors.

"Bah!" he said to himself; "they tell me not to smoke. Well! I'll smoke more than ever, to let them see how much I think of their advice."

In fact, the number of cigarettes he smoked in a day reached such a fabulous figure, that his valet's sole occupation was to make them for his master.

From time to time, Edward had travelled, hoping to find new sensations amid new scenes. He had visited Switzerland, Spain, Italy, and England; but, unluckily, the man who can scatter gold along his path meets with no obstacles to his desires in any country; women are coquettish, men are selfish, innkeepers have an eye to the main chance, servants are flatterers, everywhere. In Spain, thanks to the national jealousy, the viscount had fought several duels; but as he handled both sword and pistol with skill, he was always victorious, which fact afforded him no pleasure at all.

Once, as he was travelling in Switzerland, and trying to climb some glacier, he fell over a precipice, and lay there nearly six hours before he was rescued by guides, by means of rope ladders. He was half frozen, but well content, and he remembered that day as one of the pleasantest during his travels.

He had returned to Paris, after a trip to Italy, only three weeks before we first meet him strolling about his apartments, smoking cigarettes, which he rarely finished, and followed at a distance by his valet, Lépinette, preparing others. Suddenly he halted in the middle of his salon, and asked:

"What time is it, Lépinette?"

"Nearly three o'clock, monsieur le vicomte."

"Really? Give me a cigarette."

"Here it is, monsieur."

"I will finish dressing.--What in the devil am I going to do to-day, Lépinette? Do you know?"

"I think that monsieur told three of his friends, Messieurs Florville, Dumarsey, and Lamberlong, to call for him to ride in the Bois."

"Ah, yes! you are right. Yes, those gentlemen were to call for me.--This one isn't well made; give me another."

"Here is one, monsieur."

"To ride in the Bois--always the same thing; it's horribly monotonous.--Lépinette, you must find something to amuse me."

"I should like nothing better; but monsieur le vicomte is so exacting! Things that would delight other gentlemen are indifferent to him, or displease him."

"That is true; I am hard to amuse. I resemble Louis XIV in that. I hoped to find something new when I came back to Paris.--This one draws badly; give me another."

"Here is one, monsieur."

"But no--nothing new or exciting!"

"There are some very pretty women in the quarter, monsieur."

"Bah! according to your taste, not mine!--But don't I hear horses in the courtyard?"

"Yes, monsieur; they are your friends, who have called for monsieur le vicomte, no doubt."

"Bigre! and I am not dressed! Never mind! they can wait.--Give me a cigarette."

XIX

THE VISCOUNT'S FRIENDS

The viscount's friends entered his salon in riding costume, hunting crop in hand.

The first was a tall youth of nearly six feet, and so slender and frail that he seemed in danger of breaking in two when he stooped; especially as he was always dressed in the latest style, and squeezed and pinched himself so that not the slightest crease could be detected in his clothes. Many ladies envied that young man his figure. His name was Florville, and his face was not unattractive.

The second was a young man of medium stature, whose hair was bright red, as were the rims of his eyes; which did not prevent him from esteeming himself a very good-looking fellow; he dared not turn his head, for fear of rumpling his collar or disarranging the knot of his cravat. He was an habitué of the Théàtre-Italien; he never missed a performance, insisted on posing as a great connoisseur in music, and declared that he could easily have reached high C, if his voice had been cultivated; but it had not been. This individual, so laughable by reason of his manners and his pretensions, was Monsieur Lamberlong.

The third of the viscount's visitors was a man of about thirty, remarkable neither for beauty nor ugliness, rather stout than thin, with a good-humored, smiling face, and all the manners of a high liver. His name was Dumarsey.

Florville and Dumarsey had enormous cigars in their mouths. The young man with the red hair did not smoke; by way of compensation, he had a little square glass over his right eye, and kept it in place almost all the time; his kind friends declared that he ought to wear one on the left eye as well, in order to conceal both his albino-like lids.

"Here we are! here we are, Edward!--The deuce! he's not ready!"

"I was sure he wouldn't be; I'd have bet on it."

"Well! what's your hurry, messieurs? In the first place, it's too early to go to the Bois. We have time enough. I will finish dressing.--Lépinette, give me a cigarette."

"Here is one, monsieur."

"Will you allow me to complete my toilet in your presence?"

"Go on, go on, take all the time you want!" said Dumarsey; "I have a good londres; that's enough for me."

"For my part," said Florville, "I am not satisfied with this so-called Havana."

"If you would like a cigar, Monsieur Lamberlong, you'll find a box on the console yonder. I smoke nothing but cigarettes myself, but I always keep a few cigars for my friends."

"Exceedingly obliged, dear viscount; but I don't care about smoking; there was a man at the Bouffes last night who smelt very strongly of tobacco; it made a number of ladies ill."

"As there is no performance at the Bouffes to-night, you have nothing to fear."

"Oh! but I am going to a concert to-night, at which Alboni is to sing."

"You stick to music, don't you?"

"It's my element."

"You know, Edward," laughed Dumarsey, "Lamberlong would have been able to reach high _C_, if his natural faculties had been cultivated. What a pity to have neglected them!"

"Is there any chance of catching the lost note, if we should take an express train?"

"You are pleased to jest, messieurs. None the less, it is true that a gentleman in the balcony at the Bouffes said to me not long ago: 'This is where you ought to be!'"

"In the balcony?"

"No; but at the Bouffes, with a salary of sixty thousand francs!"

"Had he heard your high _C_?"

"Yes; just as I left school."

"It can't be denied that there are some very fortunate mortals. There was a man who had heard Lamberlong's high _C!_ And we poor devils might pay fabulous prices, yes, hire the whole auditorium of the Bouffes, and not hear it! It's heartrending!"

The red-haired young man rose impatiently, and began to inspect the pictures that adorned the salon.

"What do you hear that's new, messieurs?" said Edward, tying his cravat.

"Oh! nothing piquant or interesting. There's been a great scarcity lately of scandalous intrigues in which we know the leading parties."

"Who is the woman most in vogue? Remember that I am just from Italy, messieurs, and that I am not at all posted as to what is going on in Paris."

"There are five or six in high favor; but you must have seen them, for you were at Saint-Phar the banker's great crush night before last."

"I saw nothing wonderful. If that's all you have to offer me, why----"

"There was a dazzling blonde at the Bouffes last night. She attracted every eye."

"Well! of course, you made inquiries about her, Lamberlong?"

"Yes; she's the wife of a rich Spaniard, who is taking her to Brazil."

"If he's taking her to Brazil, that's too far to follow her. But you must have had some romantic adventures in Italy, viscount? The women there are very revengeful, they say."

"No more so than in France! I saw two or three little stilettos glisten in the girdle or the garter, but I didn't feel the point of one."

"No great passions, then?"

"Nothing, nothing! it's maddening! Love is vanishing, messieurs."

"That isn't what says a young man who is always in the orchestra chairs at the Bouffes; he's in a fair way of dying of love for an actress; he won't say who she is."

"Oh! but one must be an habitué of the Bouffes to do that sort of thing!--A cigarette, Lépinette."

"Here is one, monsieur."

"How many do you smoke a day, Edward?"

"I don't know; I never counted them."

"I'll bet that it's two dozen!"

"I'll bet it's three!"

"Pardieu! all you have to do is to ask my valet; he can give you more accurate information than anyone else on that subject."

"Lépinette, how many cigarettes does your master smoke in a day--about?"

Lépinette reflected a moment, then replied:

"I have sometimes given monsieur le vicomte as many as sixty, messieurs; but it's never less than forty."

"Ha! ha! ha! that is magnificent! sixty cigarettes a day! You deserve a prize, Edward. We'll order a wreath of cigarettes for you!"

"Well, messieurs, what would you have? a man must do something; and when one has no other amusement----"

"Oh! viscount, you can't make us believe that you haven't some beauty to whom you are devoted."

"No, Florville, at this moment I love nobody. I am so utterly blasé on the subject of love! It is all over; my heart has lost the power of taking fire; the incendiary glances of my fair friends leave it as cold as ice. And then, when one knows women, one knows how much reliance may be placed on their oaths."

"Oh! there are exceptions," said Dumarsey. "I remember, Edward, when you had a pretty young girl for a mistress--I think you had abducted her, found her at a linen draper's. She came from Lorraine. She was almost a peasant, and you sophisticated her."

"Oh! yes, I remember! You mean Suzanne, don't you?"

"Suzanne, yes, that was what you called her. She seemed to be very fond of you."

"In other words, she loved me too much; it got to be insufferable. She was far too sentimental."

"What did you do with the girl?"