Part 11

"Bezique!--You think she's bored? But you may be mistaken--he's a very good-looking fellow, is Monsieur de Raincy.--Four aces!"

"Ah! upon my word! If he's a good-looking fellow--with that stupid, idiotic, conceited air!"

"He has a good figure.--Double bezique!"

"Sapristi! you never fail to get that.--And that pronunciation of his--do you think that's pretty, too?"

"Not in singing, at all events.--Take your card, if you please, monsieur le comte!"

"Ah! to be sure.--I was not paying attention. Whose play is it?"

"Mine.--I have the honor of winning again. I have triple bezique--fifteen hundred!"

"Is it possible?"

"Look for yourself."

"Well! I am not sorry it's over. I am not at all in the mood for cards to-night."

XXIV

MARRIAGE PROPOSALS

Monsieur de la Beriniere left the table and went to talk with Adolphine; she, no less indifferent to the gallant speeches of the old count than to young Anatole's compliments, was equally amiable to both; for neither of them diverted her thoughts for a moment, and it is easy to be amiable when the heart is not involved.

The party broke up at last; but, before taking their leave, the count and Monsieur de Raincy in turn exchanged a few words in undertones with Monsieur Gerbault; which proceeding aroused Monsieur Batonnin's curiosity to such an extent, that he went in the direction of the kitchen instead of toward the street-door.

"It's your turn to be absent-minded, I see," observed Monsieur Clairval, satirically.

"Oh! not at all; I made a mistake in the door; that may happen to anybody. Perhaps you thought that I had something to whisper to Monsieur Gerbault, like those two ahead of us?"

"Ah! so they whispered to our friend Gerbault, did they? I confess that I didn't notice it, and, furthermore, that it's a matter of indifference to me."

"And to me, too, of course; although I have an idea that I can guess what they had to say to Mademoiselle Adolphine's father."

"Ah! you have an idea? The deuce! do you possess the art of divination, then?"

"One needn't be a sorcerer to divine certain things.--Do you want me to tell you my conjectures?"

"No, I thank you, Monsieur Batonnin, keep them to yourself; I don't appreciate conjectures; I like official facts only. Good-night!"

"That means that he is vexed because he hasn't guessed it," said Batonnin to himself, as they separated. "For my part, I would bet--six francs to twenty--that young De Raincy and old De la Beriniere are in love with the charming Adolphine; and I would also bet--twenty francs to thirty--that the girl doesn't care for either of them. So much the better for me! I have all the more chance. Let us wait, let us let the mutton boil, as the common saying goes. That's an old proverb; and I am like Sancho, I love proverbs."

Adolphine also had noticed her father's brief _aside_ with the count and with De Raincy. When all the guests had gone, she went to him, and said with a smile:

"So those gentlemen have secrets with you, have they, father? for Monsieur de la Beriniere, and then Monsieur Anatole, whispered to you in a corner."

"Faith! my dear girl, as yet I have no more idea than you what they have to say to me; but each of them asked me for an appointment to-morrow, having a very important matter to discuss with me. I said to Monsieur de Raincy: 'I shall expect you at eleven o'clock;' and to Monsieur de la Beriniere: 'You will find me at home at one;' so I suppose that, at three or four o'clock to-morrow, I shall be able to gratify your curiosity, and to tell you what those gentlemen have confided to me---- Unless it concerns serious matters, which one doesn't tell to little girls; but I fancy not."

"You fancy not?--Do you mean that you suspect what it is, father?"

"Why--bless my soul!--but, after all, as they will tell me to-morrow, it's useless to indulge in conjectures. Ah! there's something which interests me much more than that."

"What is it, father?"

"The duel that Batonnin told us about. I pretended, before him, not to put any faith in what he said; but, if all that he told us is true, why, your sister's husband didn't hurt himself by falling on the stairs--and it must have been Gustave with whom he fought."

"Oh, no, father, no; I give you my word that it wasn't Gustave."

"Aha! so you know the truth, do you? and you never told me anything about it?"

"Fanny and her husband didn't want it to become known, and she made me promise not to mention it to you."

"But tell me whom Auguste did fight with?"

"With a man who was drunk, and who didn't know what he was saying--that's the whole of it. And Auguste didn't attach the slightest importance to it."

"Very good! I hope he didn't; but I am convinced, none the less, that Gustave was mixed up in it in some way, and I repeat what I have said to you before: that young man must never come here again!--Good-night, my dear!"

"Good-night, father!"

Adolphine retired to her own room; the two appointments with her father, solicited by two men who had persecuted her with their attentions during the evening, caused her a vague feeling of uneasiness; a secret presentiment told her that she would be the subject of the interviews to be held on the morrow, and she was impatient to know whether her fears were justified.

The next day, Adolphine did not leave her room, in order to avoid meeting the two gentlemen who had appointments with her father. At precisely eleven o'clock she heard the bell, and honest Madeleine came and said to her:

"It's the tall young man who sang with you last night, mamzelle; he asked for monsieur your father, and he's with him now."

"Very well, Madeleine; if he should happen to ask for me, you must tell him that I have a headache and cannot leave my room."

"I understand, mamzelle."

"And come and tell me when he has gone."

"Yes, mamzelle."

Adolphine counted the minutes; but Anatole had not gone when the clock struck twelve. She lost her patience; she said to herself:

"What can that man have to say to father, that takes such a long time? For a young man, he's very talkative. If he doesn't go soon, he'll meet the count. But, after all, it makes no difference to me."

At last, about half-past twelve, Monsieur de Raincy took his leave. Madeleine came to inform her young mistress, and she was on the point of going to her father, when the bell rang again.

It was Monsieur de la Beriniere. He had come ahead of time, but he was at once ushered into Monsieur Gerbault's study. Madeleine informed Adolphine of his arrival, and received the same orders as before, in case the count should ask permission to pay his respects to her mistress.

This second interview was much shorter; Monsieur de la Beriniere went away before one o'clock. Thereupon, Monsieur Gerbault went up to his daughter's room, with a gratified air, and rubbing his hands--a sign of satisfaction common to all nations. Why? No one has ever been able to find out.

"Well, father?" murmured Adolphine, in a voice which betrayed some slight emotion; "did both of them come?"

"Yes, my dear girl. Oh! they were very prompt; indeed the count was a little ahead of time; that's easily understood: the oldest are always in the greatest hurry."

"And what did they say to you? must you keep it secret?"

"No, indeed; since you were the sole subject of both interviews."

"I?"

"Yes; and, frankly, I had some suspicion.--And you?"

"I--why---- Oh! I beg you, my dear father, tell me at once what they wanted to say to you?"

"Well, my dear, the same motive brought them both; they both came to ask me for your hand."

"My hand?"

"In the first place, young De Raincy said: 'I love mademoiselle your daughter, she is an excellent musician, I adore music, we will sing together all day; I have no profession, but I have fifteen thousand francs a year in government securities, and with that one can live comfortably when one isn't ambitious; and music is a pleasure which necessitates very small expense. It has seemed to me that Mademoiselle Adolphine does not care for balls and great parties, like her sister; so I may hope that she will be happy with me. You will give her a _dot_ of twenty thousand francs; I know it, and it's enough for me; I don't ask for any more.'--So much for number one.--Monsieur de la Beriniere was more eager, more impetuous, in his suit. 'I adore Mademoiselle Adolphine,' he said, 'I am mad over her; her delightful voice has turned my head, and I renounce my liberty for her. Indeed, I believe I am destined to enter your family, for I will not conceal from you that I was deeply in love with your other daughter; but Monleard was quicker than I, and stole her away from me.--So, this time I declare myself promptly, because I don't propose that your younger daughter shall escape me as her sister did; unless, of course, she will have none of me; but I venture to hope the contrary; I am no longer in my first youth, but my heart is as easily touched as it was at twenty. In short, I offer your daughter thirty thousand francs a year, and the title of countess--which always flatters a young woman's ear; I lay these at her feet, with the most ardent love. Be good enough to communicate my offer to her, and I will come to-morrow for your answer.'"

"Oh! mon Dieu! And what answer did you make to all that, father?"

"My dear child, the only answer that a father should make to honorable men, of good standing in society, who ask him for his daughter's hand: 'Your offer flatters me, does me honor, and, for my part, I will interpose no obstacle to the fulfilment of your wishes; but, as marriage is an act which has a decisive influence upon the happiness of one's whole life, I have determined to allow my daughters absolute freedom in the matter of choosing a husband, and never to enforce my wishes in opposition to theirs.'"

"Oh! my dear, good father! how good it is of you, not to force your children to marry!"

"Now, my dear love, it is for you to choose. These two offers are equally advantageous. Monsieur de la Beriniere makes you a countess, with thirty thousand francs a year--that is very attractive. To be sure, he is sixty years old, which lessens the attraction. Monsieur Anatole de Raincy is not a count; but he is of a very old family; he has only fifteen thousand francs a year, but he is only twenty-seven, and that's a valuable asset. Now, you are fully posted as to these two aspirants to your hand. Reflect and choose."

"Oh! the reflecting is all done, father! I want neither of them."

"What! you refuse?"

"I refuse them both."

"But you are unreasonable, my child!--Either of the two marriages would be honorable; it would be hard to find a better match in respect to fortune; indeed, I am afraid that you'll never do so well."

"You know, don't you, father, that I care nothing about money?"

"My dear girl, it isn't well, perhaps, to love money as your sister loves it; but it isn't well to despise it, either. It is a great help to happiness. Come, between ourselves, why do you refuse both of these two offers? The count, I can understand; he's too old for you; but Monsieur Anatole is young, not a bad-looking fellow----"

"I refuse them, father, because I want to love my husband, and I shall never love Monsieur de la Beriniere or Monsieur de Raincy."

"So you are quite determined, are you?"

"Absolutely. You can tell them that I don't want to marry now. A well-bred man understands that that's a polite way of refusing."

"Very good, since you have made up your mind. Gad! you're not much like your sister! You see, she is rich, and happy! always at some festivity, always enjoying herself!"

"I don't envy her happiness; I should not be happy in the life she leads."

"Well, let's say no more about it."

Monsieur Gerbault left his daughter; but she could read in his eyes that he was not pleased that she had refused the two eligible husbands who had offered themselves. As for Adolphine, she said to herself:

"I cannot marry either of those men, for I love someone else. The man I love will never marry me,--I know that,--for he never thinks of me! But I choose to have the right to think of him always."

XXV

GUSTAVE'S UNCLE

After his duel with Auguste Monleard, Cherami returned to his lodgings, whistling a polka. He found his hostess where he had left her, standing in her doorway.

Madame Louchard was very inquisitive; it had stirred her curiosity to the highest pitch to see her tenant go away with the young exquisite who owned a cabriolet; and when the former returned alone, she cried:

"Well! what have you done with him?"

"With whom? with what?"

"Why, with that elegant gentleman who went away with you on foot,--a strange thing to do when he has a cabriolet at his command. You might just as well have got into it, both of you, as it followed you."

"It wasn't worth while to ride; we only went a little way."

"Oho! where did you go?"

"To that vacant lot over yonder, by the theatre."

"What in the world did you go there for? Does your friend think of buying the lot?"

"Not at all. We went there to fight. It's a very convenient place for that."

"To fight? Is it possible!"

"As I have the honor to tell you."

"With your fists?"

"Madame Louchard, you always imagine that you are talking to the clowns who are your usual associates. Understand, pray, that a man like me doesn't fight with his fists! I sometimes send the toe of my boot into the fleshy part of an upstart who bores me--but when it's a question of a duel, that's another affair."

"What did you fight with, then?"

"With swords."

"You didn't have any."

"That gentleman had a whole arsenal in his carriage."

"Mon Dieu! And which of you was killed?"

"Why, your question is rather beside the mark. Do I look like a dead man?"

"Ah! that's so. It was the other man, then? Poor young man!"

"Don't be alarmed; he isn't dead, and he won't die. A simple wound--and I warned him, too; I said: 'You strike down too much!'--He fences rather well, but he isn't in my class yet."

"You villain! always in trouble--fighting duels. But what if he had killed you, eh?"

"In that case, superb Louchard, I should not, at this moment, have the pleasure of gazing upon your strongly-marked features."

"And the cause of your duel?"

"A trifle--a mere nothing--a jest. But that young man's coming prevented me from breakfasting, and I feel the need of attending to that important function. I go to my room to get my pretty cane with the agate head, and I fly to the Vefour of the Quarter. But, no; there isn't one here, and, as I wish to breakfast very well indeed, I will go as far as Passoir's."

"Anyone can see that you're in funds."

"Indeed, it is true, divine hostess."

"And you don't leave me a little on account."

"We will talk of that later."

Cherami took his new cane, placed his new hat on the side of his head, and with his pockets lined with the money he had won at ecarte the night before, left the house, saying:

"I have my cue!"

According to his custom, Cherami spent his gold pieces freely. But it seemed that that money had brought him luck. Being a great lover of the game of billiards, he did not fail, after dinner, to go and play pool at a cafe where he knew that there was always a game in progress in the evening; and for some days fortune favored him so persistently, that all the frequenters of the cafe frowned when he appeared, muttering:

"Here comes the pool-shark!"

But one evening the luck turned; Cherami left the cafe with empty pockets.

"Palsambleu!" he said to himself; "here I am reduced to extremities again!--For I shall not receive my quarterly income for a fortnight, and that stingy Bernardin wouldn't pay me a single day in advance. But why wouldn't this be a good time to pay a little visit to our young friend Gustave, in whose behalf I fought a duel, and who has not even come to thank me? By the way, I think I didn't give him my address, and, on the other hand, he didn't give me his. But he lives with his Uncle Grandcourt; he's a banker, or a merchant, no matter which; I ought to find his address in the _Almanack du Commerce._ To-morrow I will obtain it, and I will go and bid friend Gustave good-day. And if he is still in the depths, I'll dine with him again. He will tell me his woes, and I will order the dinner. And at dessert he certainly will lend me a hundred francs to carry me to my next quarterly payment--that will be easy to manage. Indeed, I am convinced that dear Gustave is surprised at my non-appearance, and that he is looking for me everywhere.--But, to make up for my neglect, I'll not leave him for a fortnight."

The next day, Cherami found Monsieur Grandcourt's address, and lost no time in betaking himself thither. Having arrived at a handsome house in Faubourg Montmartre, he tapped on the concierge's window with his pretty cane.

"Monsieur Grandcourt, the banker?"

"His offices are on the ground floor, at the rear, right-hand door."

"Very good. Shall I find Monsieur Gustave Darlemont in the office?"

"Monsieur Gustave?"

"Yes, the banker's nephew, who is employed by his uncle."

"Faith! monsieur, I don't know; there are several clerks; I don't know their names."

"You don't seem very well posted, that's a fact. All right; I'll go to the office, and it's to be hoped that someone will be able to answer me there."

Cherami walked to the rear of the building, and entered a room where an elderly clerk, half reclining on a ledger, was adding columns of figures.

"Will you kindly tell me where I can find my friend Gustave?"

The clerk made no reply, but continued to mutter:

"Forty-five, fifty-two, four, six, sixty."

"Is this old fossil afflicted with deafness, I wonder?" said Cherami to himself.--"I ask you, monsieur," he added aloud, "to direct me to the desk--the office--the chamber of my friend Gustave; don't you hear me?"

"Eight and eight are sixteen--and sixteen, thirty-two."

"Sacrebleu! we've known for a long while that eight and eight are sixteen! Is it such nonsense as that that keeps you from answering me?"

As he spoke, Cherami seized the old clerk's collar and shook him roughly. He turned upon his assailant in a rage, exclaiming:

"I am adding my balances, monsieur; and when I am adding, no one has any right to disturb me--do you hear?"

"Well, well! you are another pretty specimen, you are! They ought to frame you and hang you up in the water-closet!"

"Monsieur! What do you mean?"

"There, there, my old mummy; let's not lose our temper. Where is Monsieur Grandcourt's nephew?"

"As if I knew, monsieur! I keep accounts, and nothing else, and I can't talk. You have put me out; I must begin all over again!"

"Very well, you shall begin again; nothing trains the youthful mind like addition. But you must answer my question first."

"Monsieur Grandcourt's private office is at the end of this passage, monsieur. Go and tell him what you want, and leave me to my accounts."

"All right! Do you know, I believe that excessive adding has hindered you sadly in your growth."

Cherami followed the passage, and, upon turning the knob of a door at the end, found himself in the banker's office. Monsieur Grandcourt was writing at his desk; being accustomed to the frequent coming and going of his clerks, he went on writing without looking up.

Cherami closed the door, examined Monsieur Grandcourt for a moment, and said to himself:

"That's our uncle--I recognize him. I never saw him but once, but that's enough. Besides, he has one of those peppery faces which have a certain _chic_."

He walked to the desk and removed his hat, saying:

"Good-morning, dear uncle! You are at work, I see. Bigre! it seems that dig's the word in your shop; for I found outside here an old pensioner so buried in his figures that I couldn't see the end of his nose.--Well, how does it go?--Don't you know me? I am Arthur Cherami."

Monsieur Grandcourt raised his head, and stared in utter amazement at the individual before him.

"Might I know, monsieur," he rejoined, "what you want, what brings you here? for I probably didn't understand what you said."

"Ah! you didn't understand, eh? Are you adding figures, too? That occupation seems to deaden the intellect. But, never mind about that! So you don't recognize me, dear uncle?"

"No, monsieur, no; and I confess that I fail to understand this title of _uncle_ which you persist in giving me."

"That is a title of affection, because I am a friend of your nephew--dear Gustave--who was so desperate on the day that his faithless Fanny married another. And on that same day, I dined with him at Deffieux's. He was absolutely determined to speak to the lovely bride, when you fell into our private room like a bombshell, and dragged the poor fellow away."

"Ah! very good, monsieur! now I understand, and I recognize you. Yes, it was you who were at the restaurant with my nephew--and you attempted to interfere with my taking him away."

"_Dame!_ he was so anxious to see his Fanny! I have always protected love affairs."

"And do you realize, monsieur, all that might have resulted from an interview between Gustave and that young woman?"

"Why, no more, I fancy, than did actually happen--a duel, that's all!"

"What do you mean, monsieur? My nephew fought no duel; that I know; I didn't leave him until the very moment of his departure."

"Well, I don't say that it was he who fought; it was I; but it amounts to the same thing."

"What! you fought a duel--you?"

"Just a little, nephew--I mean, uncle. Indeed, I administered to the young husband a very neat sword-thrust in the arm. However, he's a stout fellow; but he holds himself back too much in fencing; that's very dangerous."

"You fought with Monsieur Monleard?"

"Why, yes! what of it? You open your eyes like porte cocheres! One would say that it was a most extraordinary thing!"

"But, monsieur, it's a horrible thing for you to have done! You have compromised that young woman, you have compromised my nephew, you have----"

"Sacrebleu! do you know that you make me tired! Where the devil did I get an uncle like this, who doesn't appreciate the services I have rendered his nephew?"

"A little less noise, monsieur, if you please!"

"Ah! you don't like that! Very good! but, no! You are Gustave's uncle; I cannot fight with you; it would grieve him. After all, my business isn't with you; and if that old baked apple out yonder had told me where I could find your nephew, you wouldn't have had a call from me. Tell me at once, and I'll make my bow."

"You want to see Gustave?"

"That was my only reason for coming here."

"My nephew is not now in France, monsieur; he is in Spain."

"In Spain? Do you mean it? it isn't a sell?"

Monsieur Grandcourt made a gesture of impatience, whereupon Cherami continued:

"Don't you like the word? You surprise me! It is adopted now in the best society. It's like _balance._ You say: 'I have _balance_ So-and-so,' which means: 'I have sent him about his business.' We have enriched the French language with a lot of such locutions, more or less picturesque. Ah! the Latin tongue is much more forcible, much more complete. You can say things in Latin that you'd never dare to say in French. Look you, for example, Plautus, in his comedies,--in _Casina_, I believe,--makes an amorous old man say, when he thinks of his mistress:

"'Jam, Hercle, amplexari, jam osculari gestio!'

Ah! they were great jokers, those Latin and Greek authors! Write comedies now like those of Aristophanes--you'd have a warm reception! They are beginning already to find Moliere too free! We are becoming very refined, very severe, in the matter of language! Does that mean that we are growing more virtuous? Frankly, I don't think it. Habits, customs, and manners change; but passions, vices, absurdities, are always the same!"

The banker's brow lost some of its wrinkles as he listened to Cherami. He scrutinized him more carefully, and said: