Part 25

"If you don't want it, leave it."

"Never mind; I'll take it. A Pole may like gray hats at all seasons. Now, Madame Louchard, I must have either an overcoat or a frock-coat."

"I have nothing but a green sack-coat of Louchard's, which I also intend for my godson."

"A sack-coat! that's risky, because it shows the trousers! But, no matter! give it to me."

"You'll be responsible for it?"

"I'll be responsible for everything."

Cherami returned to his room with the clothes; at half-past nine, the water-carriers appeared. The Auvergnat wore a long blue overcoat that reached to his heels, a collar that came to the bottom of his ears, and a three-cornered hat. He was a perfect type of a laundryman going out to dinner. The Piedmontese was still in his jacket; but he had on a white striped waistcoat and olive-green trousers. Cherami bade him put on the green coat, which was too short in front and showed half of the waistcoat. By way of compensation, the late Louchard evidently had an enormous head, for the gray hat came down so far that it almost concealed the young water-carrier's eyes. These preparations completed, Cherami, having examined his two seconds, exclaimed:

"What in the devil will they take you for? However, damn the odds!--You, Piedmontese, will bow whenever anyone speaks to you, but you must not say a word in reply."

"Never fear! what would I say to them, anyway?"

"Very good! You are Monsieur de Chamousky, a Polish nobleman."

"No; for I was born in Piedmont."

"Hold your tongue; I make you a Pole!--You, Michel, are a wealthy land-holder from Auvergne; at all events, you will be rightfully entitled to your accent."

"Yes, yes, I have some land at home, and all planted with chestnuts."

"The gentlemen who are coming will tell you what weapons the count proposes to fight with, also the time and place; to whatever they propose, you will reply: 'Very well, we agree.'--Do you understand?"

"Pardi! that ain't very hard: 'Very well; that hits us!'"

"I didn't say: 'That hits us,' but: 'We agree.'"

"Bah! it amounts to the same thing."

"No, no! Sacrebleu! it doesn't amount to the same thing! Don't you go making mistakes; no foolishness! Ah! mon Dieu! I hear a carriage stopping in front of the house; two gentlemen are getting out--they are the ones. Attention! I leave the door unlocked, so that they can open it themselves. I go into this little dark closet for a moment; I want them to think that I have more than this one room. Now: a serious face, heads up, and be cool!"

Cherami disappeared. The two water-carriers stared at each other in speechless amazement to see themselves so finely arrayed. Soon there was a knock at the door; then, as no one answered, the door was opened, and Monsieur de la Beriniere's two seconds entered the room.

One was a man of some fifty years, tall and thin, with a decidedly unamiable manner, a rigid bearing, and a severely simple costume. The other, who was at least fifteen years younger, with a pleasant face, and dressed in the height of fashion, had all the manners of a modern Don Juan. He entered the room first, and, having glanced about, exclaimed:

"This isn't the place; it can't be; the woman directed us wrong."

"But there are some people here," said the other; "we had better inquire.--Monsieur Cherami, if you please?" he continued, addressing the Auvergnat, who stood in the centre of the room.

The water-carrier buried his chin in his cravat, and answered, without hesitation:

"Very well; we agree."

The old gentleman turned to his companion, who said:

"He did not understand you."--Whereupon he, in his turn, addressed the Auvergnat: "We desire to know, monsieur, if this is where Monsieur Cherami lives."

Again Michel replied in his deep voice:

"Very well; we agree."

At that, the young man burst out laughing.

"Gad!" he exclaimed; "this is evidently a joke, a wager! What do you think about it, Monsieur de Maugrille?"

"I think that we did not come here to joke, and if I knew that there was any purpose to make fools of us----"

Cherami, who was listening, and saw that his seconds were in a fair way to wreck the whole business, hastily left the closet, and saluted the new-comers with much courtesy, saying:

"Pardon, messieurs, a thousand pardons! I crave a little indulgence for my seconds,--most respectable persons, by the way,--one of whom, being a Pole, recently arrived in France, is not able as yet to express his thoughts in our language. As for the other, Monsieur de Saint-Michel, a wealthy land-holder in the outskirts of Clermont, in Auvergne--he is not yet at home in all the details of affairs of this sort. However, messieurs, as I have determined in advance to agree to what Monsieur de la Beriniere may suggest, it seems to me that your mission is very much simplified, and that the affair will settle itself; my seconds are here only as a matter of form."

"Ordinarily, monsieur, the details of a meeting are not arranged with the adversary himself, but with his seconds."

"I know it, monsieur. Pardieu! you cannot teach me how affairs are managed in duels; this isn't the first time I have fought."

"In that case, monsieur," queried the younger man, with a smile, "why did you select seconds who apparently have no understanding of what is going on?"

"Because I found no others at hand, in all probability," retorted Cherami, biting his lips wrathfully. "Come, messieurs, let us come to terms. Is it such a difficult matter, pray, to tell us where, when, and how the count proposes to fight?"

"I beg your pardon, monsieur," observed Monsieur de Maugrille; "but, as I, for my part, insist that everything shall be done in accordance with the established etiquette of duels, I will tell your seconds, and no one else."

"Tell my concierge, if you choose; it makes confounded little difference to me, after all."

"What does that tone mean, monsieur?"

"It means that you make me very weary with all your nonsense; and if you're not satisfied with the tone I adopt, why, I'll give you satisfaction as soon as I have done with the count; or before, if you choose."

"Monsieur!"

The discussion was on the verge of ending in a quarrel, when the Auvergnat, seeing that things seemed to be approaching a crisis, shouted in stentorian tones:

"Very well, _fouchtra!_ very well! We agree, I say!"

This outburst was delivered in such unique fashion by the water-carrier, that the younger of the count's seconds roared with laughter again, and Cherami himself could not keep a sober face. He turned his back and put his handkerchief to his mouth. The old gentleman alone retained an air of displeasure; but his young companion said to him earnestly:

"Come, Monsieur de Maugrille, let us not have trouble over an affair which really seems to me quite simple.--Monsieur de la Beriniere selects swords; he wishes to fight to-morrow, about nine o'clock, in Vincennes Forest; we will meet at the entrance to the forest, near Porte Saint-Mande, on the highroad. Those are our conditions, messieurs; are they satisfactory to you?"

Then or never was the time for the water-carrier to repeat the phrase he had been taught; but, just as it frequently happens on the stage, that, when an actor has begun his lines too soon, he is silent when he ought to speak, so did the Auvergnat look stolidly at the others and utter never a word.

Cherami, who was gazing at him impatiently, at last walked up behind him and struck him in the side, crying:

"Well, Monsieur de Saint-Michel, have you suddenly lost your voice?"

"Ah! bless my soul! what was I thinking about?--Very well, very well! We agree to everything," said the water-carrier.

Thereupon the young man took his companion's arm and led him from the room, laughing still, and saying in his ear:

"I think that we may retire, now that everything is settled."

Cherami saluted them, and escorted them to the door.

"Be sure, monsieur," he said, "that we shall be on hand promptly at the rendezvous; we shall not keep you waiting. By the way! it will be very kind of you to bring swords for both, for I broke mine recently and have not yet replaced it."

"Very good, monsieur; we will do so."

The younger man bowed with much affability; his older associate bent his head almost imperceptibly, retaining his ill-humored expression; then they left the house and returned to their carriage.

LIV

TWO!

"Sapristi!" cried Cherami, when the count's witnesses had gone; "I thought that we weren't going to get out of that hole; they had difficulty in swallowing my seconds, and I don't wonder."

"Ain't you satisfied with us?" inquired the water-carrier; "I should say that I said just what you told me to."

"That is to say, you said it when you shouldn't have, and held your tongue when you should have answered."

"I didn't say a single word," observed the Piedmontese.

"It's lucky you didn't! That would have been the last straw! Well, that's all for to-day; you may go back to your cask; but be here to-morrow at half-past seven sharp, dressed just the same; don't forget it!"

"For five francs more apiece?"

"Of course, as that's what we agreed."

"We won't fail."

The next day, the two water-carriers appeared at seven o'clock, each in his costume of the preceding day: the Piedmontese in the late Louchard's green sack-coat and gray hat, which he was obliged to push up from his face every minute, so that he could see where he was going. Cherami dressed in haste; he paid particular attention to his toilet, which presented a striking contrast to that of his two seconds; then he requested his landlady to send for a cab. Madame Louchard was much disturbed when she recognized the coat and hat of her deceased husband on the water-carrier.

"Why have you rigged that fellow up like that?" she asked her tenant. "He'll just ruin my husband's things. I wouldn't have lent 'em to you, if I'd known you wanted 'em for him. Are you going to a wedding so early in the morning?"

"Widow Louchard, I will be responsible for your chattels--don't bother us! Your man's cast-off clothes are more fortunate than they deserve, to be present at such a festivity.--Get in, messieurs."

Cherami pushed the water-carrier and his man into the cab, and shouted to the driver to take them to Porte Saint-Mande; then, taking a seat beside his seconds, he said to them:

"Listen carefully to my instructions for this morning, and, ten thousand cigars! try not to make any mistakes; I am going to fight with a third gentleman, whom you didn't see yesterday."

"Ah! you ought to fight with your fists; that's our way; we're good hands at it; eh, Piedmontese?"

"Yes, just let me get a crack at 'em! I'd like that better than to stand and say nothing, like a stuffed goose!"

"Nevertheless, you must make up your mind to that, my boy. I didn't bring you with me to fight, but to be my seconds. I am to fight with a sword. You will simply measure the two swords, to make sure that they're of the same length."

"What with? I didn't bring a rule."

"You measure two swords by putting them side by side. It's simple enough."

"And must I say again: 'Very well; we agree'?"

"No, there's no need of it. You must say: 'Everything is ready, let them proceed.' If I am wounded, you will bring me back to this cab, which will wait for us, and take me home. If it's the other who is wounded,--and it will be,--you will help his seconds to take him to his carriage. Do you understand?"

"That's all right."

They arrived at Porte Saint-Mande, where they alighted from the cab and walked into the woods. It was a cold, dull morning; it was not nine o'clock, and they met nobody.

"We are ahead of time," said Cherami, "but I prefer to be. Above all things, my boys, be very polite to the men we are waiting for: take your hats off and bow, and don't put them on again till after they do."

"What if they don't put 'em on at all?"

"Never fear--they will. Now, we have nothing to do but walk back and forth and wait."

"Why don't we go and take a glass of wine at the nearest inn, while we wait?"

"_Dame!_" said the apprentice; "I'm with you for a glass of wine!"

"But I am not with you, not by any means, messieurs. After the fight, you shall drink as much as you please, but not before."

"We might treat the others to a glass when they come; that's polite, you know!"

"The gentlemen who are coming don't drink at wine-shops!--No fool's tricks, sacrebleu! or you'll compromise me! But, see! that carriage coming along the road yonder is probably bringing our adversaries. It's a private carriage--the count's, no doubt. Yes, those are they. Attention, my seconds! Well, well, what in the devil are you doing? Taking off your hats before the gentlemen have left their carriage!"

"You told us to be polite."

"I didn't tell you to bow to the horses."

The count and his seconds alighted and came toward Cherami. The grotesque aspect of the latter's attendants seemed greatly to amuse Monsieur de la Beriniere, who could not take his eyes from the two water-carriers. They, at a sign from Cherami, hastily removed their hats when the new-comers were close at hand. But the Piedmontese, in his eagerness to uncover, forgot that his hat was too large for him, and struck Monsieur de Maugrille in the nose with it, that gentleman happening to be directly in front of him.

The old gentleman made an angry gesture. But the tall youth, as he picked up his hat, cried:

"Excuse me! I didn't do it a-purpose! it slipped out of my hand."

The count glanced at his seconds. They looked at Cherami. And he, hardly able to resist the temptation to plant his foot in the apprentice's posterior, struggled to restrain himself, as he said:

"Monsieur is a Pole; he speaks French very badly! indeed, he fairly murders it."

"So we observe," rejoined the count, with a smile. "But it's none too warm here, and I am anxious to have done with this affair. It seems to me that we shall be very well placed behind this low wall."

"I agree with you, monsieur le comte."

They walked a short distance, and halted behind a wall which would serve to conceal the combatants from any chance passers-by. While the principals removed their coats, the younger of the count's seconds handed to the water-carrier two swords which he carried out of sight under his overcoat. The Auvergnat measured them so long that Cherami went to him and took one out of his hands.

"They're all right!" he exclaimed; "they're exactly alike! I will take this one, unless monsieur le comte prefers it."

But Monsieur de la Beriniere at once took the other, while his older second grumbled:

"In God's name, who are these two idiots of seconds who know absolutely nothing as to what they are doing?"

Cherami at once stood on guard, saying:

"At your service, monsieur le comte, whenever you choose."

"I am here, monsieur."

Monsieur de la Beriniere had been a very good fencer in his youth, but years had impaired his agility and strength. It was easy to see that Cherami was sparing his adversary, to whom he observed, as he parried his thrusts:

"Well done, monsieur le comte! very pretty work, indeed! You must have been a fine fencer formerly."

But these compliments, instead of flattering the count, stung and irritated him, because he saw that his opponent was playing with him; and he suddenly cried:

"What the devil! in God's name, monsieur, attack! you confine yourself to parrying! Do you think you're fighting with a novice?"

"Is that your wish, monsieur le comte? Solely to comply then----"

And Cherami, suddenly striking down his adversary's sword, plunged his own into the count's right side.

Monsieur de la Beriniere staggered a moment, then fell.

"_Fouchtra!_ he's got his reckoning!" cried the Auvergnat, while the count's witnesses ran forward to help him and carry him off the field. But, at a sign from Cherami, the tall Piedmontese lifted the wounded man in his arms as if he were a child, and carried him to the elegant equipage, in which a surgeon was waiting, who had come with the gentlemen, but whom they had not thought it necessary to take with them to the field of battle.

"There's one job done!" said the young water-carrier.

The count's seconds could hardly keep up with him. In the end, they seated themselves by the wounded man's side in the carriage, which drove away at a walk.

"The wound can't be dangerous," said Cherami to his seconds, when they were alone; "it's in among the ribs. He will be laid up a fortnight or three weeks, unless I touched some vital part. Ah! they forgot to take away their sword. I will carry it back myself, and that will give me an opportunity to inquire for the count."

"Ah! _fouchtra!_ you're a smart one! how you run on!"

"Now it's all over, ain't we going to have a glass of wine at the nearest wine-shop, to refresh us?"

"My boys, here's a hundred sous for each of you. Go and refresh yourselves all you choose; I am going to take the cab and go home. Do you prefer to ride back?"

"No, no! Riding makes us sick; eh, Piedmontese?"

"Yes, yes, I prefer to walk."

"But don't forget, my boys, to bring that coat and gray hat back to Madame Louchard."

"Don't you be afraid; we're just going to have a little fun with our hundred sous."

"Have all the fun you can, my boys. Good-day!"

"Say, Monsieur Cherami, you're satisfied with us, ain't you? We did what you wanted us to."

"Yes, my friends, I am very well satisfied.--But God preserve me from ever having you as seconds again!" added Cherami, as he drove away.

LV

CHERAMI CHANGES HIS TACTICS

On the day after the duel, Cherami, concealing under his coat the sword which had been loaned to him the day before, betook himself to the count's abode and asked the concierge how his master was. The concierge replied, with a profound sigh:

"Would you believe, monsieur, that, in spite of his years--for although monsieur le comte dresses like a young man, it's easy to see that he isn't one; his valet tells me he's past sixty--well, in spite of his years, he fought a duel yesterday."

"A man fights a duel when the occasion arises; there's no prescribed term for that."

"No, monsieur; no, a man doesn't fight--and with swords, above all--when his wrist is no longer firm; and it seems that Monsieur de la Beriniere's opponent was a great, tall rascal--a professional--one of those fellows who pass their time fighting. A fine profession!"

Cherami pushed the sword still farther under his coat, stared at the concierge as if he would swallow him, and said in a sharp tone:

"Your reflections tire me; I am going up to the count's apartments."

"But, monsieur, you can't go up; monsieur le comte is very badly wounded, so it seems. He is forbidden to read or talk."

"I don't mean to speak to him, but to his valet, who isn't so much of an ass as you, I trust."

And Cherami rapidly ascended the stairs, opened the door of the reception-room by turning the knob, and found there the valet, who knew him. He handed him the sword, saying:

"Here, my friend, is a sword which your master loaned to the person with whom he fought yesterday, and which that person requested me to return to him, and at the same time to inquire as to his condition. Is the count's wound dangerous?"

"No, monsieur. The surgeon said that it wasn't mortal, and that monsieur would recover."

"Ah! so much the better! I am very glad to hear that."

"But it may take a long time; he'll have to be very careful. Monsieur has lost a great deal of blood; he is very weak, and, between ourselves, he's no longer young."

"Between ourselves, and between all the rest of the world, too."

"He is forbidden to speak or to receive visits to-day."

"And I have no intention of asking to be admitted; I simply wanted to know how he was; he will get well, that's the main point. What does it matter whether it's a long recovery or not? The count is rich; he can coddle himself in bed as long as it's necessary."

"True, monsieur; but, still, this wound comes at a very bad time; for--I can safely tell you; it's no longer a secret--my master's on the point of being married."

"Married!"

"Yes, it's a fact; and to a young lady, a very pretty one."

"Well, my boy, to marry, at your master's age, is much more dangerous than a sword-thrust--especially when the bride is young and pretty--aggravating circumstances!"

"Ha! ha! I fancy monsieur is right."

"Good-morning! I will call again to inquire."

"And now," said Cherami to himself, "if I knew where Gustave is, I would tell him that his rival is on his back. I think I will go to his house to inquire. He has separate apartments; and, at a pinch, if the concierge can't tell me anything, I will brave once more the uncle's winning countenance."

Gustave's concierge knew that he was not in Paris, but he knew no more than that. Cherami decided to make his way once more into the banker's private office; he was always sure to find him at his desk in the morning.

Monsieur Grandcourt frowned when he recognized his visitor. But Cherami was even more carefully dressed than on the occasion of his last visit. With the thousand francs he had received from Gustave, and by virtue of his newly-adopted system of economy, Beau Arthur had reached the point where he was no longer an ex-beau, and had almost recovered his former air of distinction.

He saluted the banker with the ease of manner which was natural to him, but to which his dress imparted additional charm. Monsieur Grandcourt replied with a cool nod. As he did not leave his armchair, Cherami took a seat and began by making himself comfortable. The two men looked at each other for several minutes without speaking: the banker retaining his scowling expression, Cherami smiling as if he were at the Theatre du Palais-Royal, listening to Arnal.

"How are you this morning, my dear Monsieur Grandcourt?" began Cherami, lolling back in his chair.

"Very well, I thank you, monsieur. Is it to inquire for my health that you come to my office to-day?"

"Oh! if I should say _yes_, you wouldn't believe me."

"True. But I remember that my nephew told me that you wished to find employment. You appear, however, monsieur, to be more fortunately placed than you were when I first saw you?"

"It is a fact, monsieur, that my condition has improved somewhat. But that does not interfere with my seeking a--suitable place. I am beginning to tire of doing nothing. I am really desirous to have something to occupy my time."

"That desire comes a little late!"

"You know the proverb: better late than never. And then, after all, I am only forty-eight; I am not an old man. You are fully as old as that, and yet you work!"

"But I have always worked, monsieur; it's a habit with me, a necessity. I didn't have to make a study of it--a study which is often repellent when one begins it late in life."

"Have you any place to offer me, monsieur?"

"No, I have not."

"Well, then, why do you ask me all these questions? I do not imagine that it is your purpose to make sport of me."

"Is it yours to pick a quarrel with me?"

"No, no! sapristi! I am not picking a quarrel with you--Gustave's uncle, and he my best friend! Oh! if you weren't his uncle, I don't say that--but you are his uncle.--Let us come to the point; I came to ask you where your nephew is at this moment."

"My nephew is travelling: he is in one place to-day, in another to-morrow."

"Oh! I see that we are going to have the same old song over again! You will not give me his address?--But if I want to write to him, to tell him something which will give him great pleasure, which will make him happy?"

"Tell me, and I'll write it to him."

"That isn't the same thing. But, no matter, I will tell you. You know, I suppose, that his _passion_, whom he thought he was surely going to marry this time, has thrown him over again, in favor of a very rich old count?"

"I know all that, monsieur."