Part 9

"Well, niece, you shall marry the young count, if that meets your views!"

"Oh! there's time for that! for my father surely would not desire to force my inclination, if he were alive."

"I cannot say what your father would have done if he had lived; but I know very well that I have no desire to torment you."

"You are so good, aunt!"

"Why, yes, I am tolerably good!"

"And do you know this young Comte de Marvejols?"

"I have seen him two or three times in company."

"What is he like, aunt?"

"A very good-looking young man; very well built, and with a decidedly rakish air. But young men sometimes assume those airs in society, in order to give themselves an appearance of aplomb and self-assurance; very often they mean nothing at all!"

"Well, if this Monsieur Léodgard desires to become my husband, I suppose that he will come to pay court to me first."

"Why, that is to be presumed. However, you will see his father, Monsieur le Marquis de Marvejols, at my receptions before long; he is a man very highly considered, in very good odor at court, but of a rather severe humor."

"What does that matter to me? it is not the father who wishes to marry me!"

"That is true."

"And if this Monsieur Léodgard shared his father's wishes, it seems to me, aunt, that he would manifest more eagerness to see me; for it is nearly two months since I left the convent, and he has not called here as yet."

"That is true, niece; but perhaps the young man is travelling."

Madame de Ravenelle's invariably placid and equable temperament sometimes irritated Valentine, whose blood was ardent and boiling; but she dissembled her impatience, for she could not be angry with her aunt, who always agreed with her.

About a month after this conversation, Valentine had attended a large party given by the Duchesse de Longueville, and had met Léodgard there. The young count had presented his respects to Madame de Ravenelle and her niece, but with the cold and formal manner of a man who had the greatest disinclination to marriage and did not desire to gratify his parents' wishes.

On her side, Valentine de Mongarcin, piqued by the young man's lack of zeal in cultivating her acquaintance, had received his compliments with an air of indifference, almost of disdain, which deprived her face of all the fascination it sometimes had.

We have seen that the result of the meeting had been to confirm Léodgard in his repugnance to that alliance.

As for Valentine, she had not said a single word on the subject of Léodgard, and Madame de Ravenelle had thought it advisable to imitate her silence.

One evening, after receiving a visit from one of her friends, or rather acquaintances, at the convent, Valentine said to her aunt:

"Mademoiselle de Vertmonteil spoke to me this morning of a girl whom her sister has seen at Milan. This girl wishes to find a place in Paris. She is said to be clever at millinery work and dressmaking; in fact, Mademoiselle de Vertmonteil recommended her to me. My maid is a fool, who does not know how to dress my hair, and I am tempted to discharge her and take this Italian in her place. What do you think about it, aunt?"

Madame de Ravenelle, who had listened as to something that was utterly indifferent to her, replied:

"You will do well to do whatever is most agreeable to you, my dear."

It was a fortnight after this conversation that Miretta appeared at the Hôtel de Mongarcin, escorted by Cédrille, and still greatly excited by the risks she had run in front of Master Hugonnet's house.

Valentine was impatiently awaiting the arrival of the girl of whom she had heard such marvellous things. She was in an immense salon, where her aunt persisted in having a fire, although the weather was no longer cold, when the young traveller was announced. Valentine uttered a joyful exclamation and said:

"Bring her to speak to me; I wish to see her at once!--Will you allow her to come to this salon, aunt?"

"It is entirely indifferent to me, niece. However, if any visitor should come, I presume that this girl will know that it is her duty to withdraw."

Miretta soon made her appearance before the two ladies; she walked into the salon with an assured step; there was embarrassment, but neither awkwardness nor stupidity in her bearing. The reverence that she made was not without a certain charm. Add to this the beauty of her face, her fresh complexion, her youth, and her piquant costume, and you will understand Valentine's exclamation:

"Ah! why, the child is very pretty!--Come nearer, come nearer! Your name is Miretta?"

"Yes, mademoiselle, Miretta Dartaize. Here is the letter of recommendation with which I have been favored, for mademoiselle."

"Very well; but it is unnecessary--I have seen the sister of the person who gave you the letter.--You are a Milanese?"

"No, mademoiselle; I was born at Pau, in Béarn; but I have lived at Milan, or in the suburbs, ever since I was a child."

"And your relations?"

"I lost them when I was very young, all except an old female cousin, who still lives at Pau, and whose son, who is very fond of me, was kind enough to undertake to bring me to Paris."

"Where is this youth?"

"In the courtyard, mademoiselle."

"How did you make the journey?"

"On Bourriquet's back, both of us. Bourriquet is Cédrille's horse; he's a good beast and carried us finely; but we made short days, so as not to tire him."

"And your travelling companion--does he too hope to find a place in Paris?"

"Oh! no, mademoiselle; Cédrille came with me only as a favor to me; and he is going right back to his province, after he has rested a little in Paris."

"This Cédrille, who is your cousin, is your betrothed too, perhaps?" said Madame de Ravenelle, carelessly turning her head toward the girl. But she replied:

"Oh, no! Cédrille is not my betrothed, madame; he loves me very dearly though, and he has asked me if I would be his wife; but I refused him, refused him flatly, telling him that I should never have anything but a sisterly affection for him. Cédrille made the best of it and is content with that."

"Why did you refuse to marry your cousin? Was it because he has nothing, and can't do anything?"

"I beg pardon, madame, Cédrille has quite enough to live comfortably; he's a worthy, honest man--a hard worker, who knows more about agriculture and plowing than anybody in our neighborhood."

"And in spite of all that, you would not consent to be his wife?" continued the old lady, fixing her eyes on Miretta, who looked down and blushed as she faltered:

"No, madame."

"You had some reason for refusing him, doubtless?"

"Mon Dieu! a single one, madame; but it seems to me that it should be sufficient in such a matter: I have no love for him, and I do not care to marry without love."

"Ah! very well answered!" cried Valentine, smiling at the girl; "certainly that reason is quite sufficient! As if a woman ought to marry a man she does not love! that would be equivalent to deliberately choosing to be unhappy all her life!"

"Such things have been seen, however, niece! And a woman is not always unhappy on that account; it often turns out just the other way."

"Well, aunt, I consider that Miretta has done well not to marry her cousin, as she has no love for him."

"Perhaps you will not always talk so, my dear!"

"Miretta," continued Valentine, turning to the girl, "I take you into my service, that is settled; and I will give you---- How much should I give her, aunt?"

"Whatever you please, niece."

"Very well! two hundred livres a year.--Is that enough, Miretta? does that satisfy you?"

"Oh! that is a great deal, mademoiselle! I probably am not worth so much as that, and I shall always be satisfied with whatever you give me; I do not care for money!"

"You don't care for money, you don't care to marry," murmured Madame de Ravenelle, shaking her head; "nor do you care for your province, since you leave it--Pray, little one, to what do you aspire?"

Miretta was silent a moment, then replied:

"I aspire to be in the service of honorable persons, and to show myself deserving of their kindness."

"Well said!" exclaimed Valentine; "that is an answer that does you honor.--Oh! you will be happy with me, I trust. In the first place, all the dresses I have ceased to wear will belong to you, and I am very fond of changing often. But you must serve me promptly, you must always be at hand when I ring for you, and never step foot outside of the house unless I send you to do some errand."

The girl raised her head quickly and cried:

"What, mademoiselle! never go out of this house? Why, in that case, I shall be a prisoner! I shall not be able to take a free step! Oh, no! no! I did not come to Paris to be deprived of my liberty; I will serve you faithfully, mademoiselle, I will be submissive to your lightest word, I will work day and night if you desire; but I wish to be able, when I feel the need of it, to fly away as freely as the birds of our fields! I shall return to my cage far happier, when I know that the door is not closed upon me!"

"Well, well, hothead!" said Valentine, with a smile; "never fear; you will not be a prisoner! I will not prevent your flying away sometimes.--Ah! how her eyes sparkle when she hears me say that! She has a little will of her own, I see. So much the better! I do not like people who are incapable of having a will!"

"But," interposed Madame de Ravenelle, "as you have just arrived in Paris, where you know no one; and as your cousin is going away--whom will you go to see when you go out? or will it be simply to take a walk?"

"Pardon me, madame, but there is already one person whom I wish to see, to thank her for the service she rendered my cousin and myself just now. Ah! madame does not know that we barely escaped a very great danger this morning--before we reached this house."

"A danger! Pray tell us about it, little one."

"Come here," said Valentine, "and sit on this stool, for your journey on horseback must have tired you. There! that is right; and now tell us what happened to you this morning."

Miretta gave them an exact account of what had taken place on Rue Saint-Jacques; she omitted no detail, nor did she add anything. The truth was sufficiently interesting to engross the attention of those who listened to her. Madame de Ravenelle could not help taking an interest in it, and Valentine was much excited--so much so that she exclaimed:

"Why, it was shameful behavior on the part of those gentlemen! To try to compel people who are passing to stop and act as their playthings! Did you hear the names of those who insulted you?"

"I heard several, mademoiselle, but I remember only two: the gentleman who took up our defence and fought for us, after offering to be my knight--in jest, doubtless--his name was Passedix."

"Passedix!--Do you know any gentleman of that name, aunt?"

"No, no one! He must be some _chevalier d'industrie!_"

"Then the man who was so fierce against us, and whose terrible sword beat down all obstacles--him they called the Sire de Jarnonville. Oh! that man had a terrifying look!"

"The Sire de Jarnonville!" repeated Madame de Ravenelle. "That is a very old name--a noble family; but it is a long while since the descendant of the Jarnonvilles ceased to appear in society--that is to say, in the society frequented by self-respecting persons."

"And you did not hear any one of those young nobles called Léodgard de Marvejols?"

"No, mademoiselle, I am quite sure that I did not hear that name."

"What are you worrying about now, niece?"

"I am not worrying at all, aunt; but as it was a gathering of scapegraces, it seemed to me quite natural that Monsieur Léodgard should be there.--Miretta, I understand your gratitude for the brave girl who--I do not quite know how--rescued you from your dangerous position. You will do well to go to thank her, for ingratitude is the vice of base minds, and it always indicates the presence of other vices. Go to the reception room and ask for Béatrix; she will take you to the room that has been prepared for you; it is not far from mine, and you can hear my bell there.--But, by the way, this Cédrille, your cousin--what have you done with him?"

"Mon Dieu! mademoiselle, he stayed below, in the courtyard, with his horse; I will go and bid him adieu, and he will go away."

"But surely the boy does not mean to start for Béarn at once? He is probably curious to see a little of Paris, is he not?"

"Yes, mademoiselle, but he will find an inn for himself and Bourriquet. Oh! Cédrille is not hard to please; he is capable of sleeping in a stable, with his horse."

"I do not see why your cousin should go elsewhere in search of lodgings; we have enough unoccupied rooms upstairs, and stables sufficiently extensive to make it unnecessary for him and his horse to go to an inn.--This youth may remain here a few days, aunt, may he not? There is room in the servants' quarters; he may eat with our people, when it suits his pleasure to stay in the house."

"I have no objection, niece; arrange everything as you choose."

"Oh! madame and mademoiselle are too kind; and Cédrille will come himself to thank them."

"It is not worth while!" said the old lady; "I excuse him from all thanks."

"Go, Miretta," said Valentine, "go tell your cousin that we will accommodate him with my servants; then find Béatrix, who will install you."

Miretta made several reverences and left the salon.

"That girl pleases me," said Valentine, after watching her leave the room. "Do not you agree with me, madame, that there is something original about her--a sort of firmness, and an indefinable naïveté, which is charming?"

"Yes, yes!" replied Madame de Ravenelle, slowly shaking her head; "but I believe that there is something in the girl's heart that she has not told us."

"What can it be, aunt?"

"I have no desire to fatigue my brain trying to guess!"

"Well, I will try, aunt; it will amuse me instead of fatiguing me."

"As you please, niece."

Miretta ran quickly down into the courtyard, and found Cédrille there, doing sentry duty beside his horse. The poor fellow stood close to Bourriquet's side, having given him the last wisps of hay from the bundle attached to his crupper.

The young Béarnais peasant was gazing with respectful admiration at the sculptures and decorations which embellished the mansion; nothing so magnificent had met his eye since he had left his fields; for, on entering Paris, he had been too much occupied in breaking out a path and guiding his horse through the crowd to have any leisure to look about him.

Cédrille smiled sadly when he saw the girl coming toward him.

"Ah! I was waiting to see you before going away, Miretta," he said; "and I am going to say adieu at once, for I wouldn't dare to come to this splendid palace and ask for you; I feel all dazed here; I don't dare to walk, for fear of making a noise!"

"And yet, my dear Cédrille, here is where you are to live, as long as you stay in Paris. They are going to give you a room in this house; my new mistress will have it so. She has a noble and generous manner, and this that she is doing for you to-day, cousin, makes me love her already."

"Ah, ah! is it possible? What do you say, cousin--I am to be lodged here--I?--Why, it's a palace!"

"No; it's a private mansion."

"Ah! but wait a minute! What about my horse--this poor Bourriquet? I don't want to leave him, you know."

"You will not have to leave him; Bourriquet will be put in the stable, and you may be sure that the horses are well taken care of there."

"Do you mean it? Bourriquet will be fed? and what about me?"

"You will be, too, when you happen to be here at the hour when the household of these ladies dines."

"If this is the way one is treated in Paris, I begin to believe that you may be happy here, cousin; but, in that case, I must go and thank the masters of the house for offering to take me in."

"No, no; that is not necessary; there are no masters here, only mistresses: Mademoiselle Valentine de Mongarcin, in whose service I am now, and her aunt--an old lady, who does whatever her niece wishes; I saw that at once."

"Oh! you are shrewd, you are, Miretta! So I needn't go and thank those ladies?"

"They excuse you. In Paris, you see, everyone is expected to keep in his own place.--But that reminds me that there is someone whom I must thank; but she is not a great lady, and I am sure that she will be very glad to see me."

"Who is it?"

"That fine girl who stationed herself in front of us and defended us, when we were being insulted. What! have you forgotten already?"

"Oh, no! no! I know whom you mean; and I remember that those young gentlemen called out to her: 'Stand away from there, Ambroisine; that's no place for you!'"

"Yes, you are right: her name is Ambroisine. But I must go now to find a lady who is to show me my room and tell me what I have to do. You are free, Cédrille; you can go out and see Paris--walk about, amuse yourself, do whatever you choose."

"But it isn't the same with you, cousin; you're at other people's orders now; but you would have it, you preferred to come to Paris and go into service, rather than be your cousin's wife. And yet, you know that you would always have been the mistress of the house, and that I would have been your servant!"

"Enough, Cédrille, enough! I thought that it was agreed that you would not go back to that subject. I told you once for all that I could not be your wife."

"Yes, that's true; but you didn't tell me why you couldn't be."

"Because it doesn't suit me, apparently; it seems to me that my wish should be sufficient."

"Oh! of course, if it is because you don't love me. It's true enough that we can't compel a woman to love us!"

"I love you like a friend, like a brother, Cédrille."

"Well, I'd have been content to be your husband on those terms; and then, nobody knows, love might have come afterward!--But here you are looking cross at me, and drawing your eyebrows together.--It's all over, cousin; I will keep my word and never speak of the subject again."

"Good! otherwise, I would save you the trouble of saying adieu to me.--By the way, Cédrille, if you would, you might take me to Rue Saint-Jacques this evening. I will come out, if I can, at nightfall."

"I should like to, cousin; I will wait for you in the street."

At that moment a middle-aged woman came to Miretta and told her to follow her.

While the girl, with an _au revoir_ to her companion, returned to the house, a servant wearing a handsome livery with heavy gold lace approached the Béarnais peasant and courteously invited him to come to the servants' quarters and refresh himself.

Cédrille returned with interest all the servant's salutations, and followed him, crying:

"Jarni! that isn't to be refused, monsieur! I shall be glad to take something, and I would even eat a bit, with your permission."

"You shall have whatever you may wish," replied the valet, with a smile.

"Well, well!" said Cédrille to himself; "this reconciles me to Paris and makes me forget this morning's battle."

XIII

THE _LOUP DE MER_ WINE SHOP

Cédrille found a large company in the offices: footmen, coachmen, lackeys, scullions, and household servants vied with one another in being kind to the new-comer, who had been commended to them by their young mistress and was not there as a competitor for her favor; for they knew that the peasant was to return to his province as soon as he should have recovered from the fatigues of his journey. That was an additional reason why they should give him a cordial welcome.

They made the Béarnais relate his adventures; the battle in the street amused the servants immensely. They drank to Cédrille's courage and his cousin Miretta's; they drank to their mistresses, and to the peasant's safe return to his hearth and home.

By dint of drinking toasts in excellent wines, such as he had never tasted before, Cédrille felt considerably bewildered; and when he left the table and the house, to take a little walk about Paris, it was all the Béarnais could do to walk straight. He had not walked a hundred yards from the house, opening his eyes to their utmost extent and stopping constantly to straighten out his legs, when he felt an arm slip through his and heard a voice say to him:

"Sandioux! a happy meeting! I did not expect it, but I rejoice. I will say more: it causes me extreme pleasure, on my honor!--Why, my dear friend, you gaze at me with a surprised air, as if you did not recognize me! Can it be that you have forgotten a gallant knight who defended you sturdily this morning at a moment when your danger was most threatening?"

Cédrille, after straining his eyes and examining the long, lean, yellow man who had seized his arm, cried at last:

"Ah! why, yes, to be sure--your long face--that's so--I have seen it before; and this morning, when all those fine sparks tried to make me dismount, it was you who came and took our part--with your long sword, as long as a turnspit!"

"Ah! this is very fortunate; you recognize me at last, do you, my fine fellow?--If my sword is long, I trust that that didn't prevent my handling it rather prettily against your assailants this morning."

"Certainly not, monsieur le chevalier. Oh! you wasn't afraid!"

"Afraid! I! I never could understand how there could be such a thing as a coward!"

"Yes, yes! now I remember it all. What a pity that that tall black chevalier knocked your sword out of your hand at the first blow!"

"Sandis! my dear fellow, I will tell you why. Lean on me; you will walk more firmly."

"Faith! I'd be glad to.--I don't know what's the matter with me to-night; or, rather, yes--I do know; they made me drink so much at that house, and such good wine, that it made me a little dizzy; but it will pass off.--What were you saying?"

"I was saying that I would explain what made Roland slip out of my hand."

"Jarni! it was the blow the other man--the black one--hit it. He strikes hard, that fellow does!"

"No, no! cadédis! that wasn't it!--He might have struck ten times as hard, and I would never have let go Roland, that fiercer assaults than that have not lowered! But just fancy, my boy---- Lean on me, don't be afraid; I am firm on my legs.--Just fancy, my worthy Béarnais, that someone had played me the despicable trick of twisting a strip of pork around Roland's hilt! So you see, it was just when I brandished it most vigorously that it slipped from my hand!"

"Well, well! pardi! that was a curious idea; to twist pork round a sword! But didn't you notice it when you drew your sword from the sheath?"

"What do you expect?--in the heat of battle, when it is a question of saving a lovely girl and an excellent youth, one does not amuse one's self examining one's sword hilt.--However, it's all over, we were victors, and, thanks to my assistance, you were able to continue your journey. I trust that you reached the safe harbor for which you were bound?"

"Yes, seigneur chevalier. Mon Dieu! my cousin is already settled in the Hôtel de Mongarcin."

"Ah! that charming little brunette whom you had _en croupe_ is your cousin?"

"To be sure! my mother and I, we are the only relations she has."

"Well! I congratulate you; you have a charming cousin; and, in fact, now that I look at you--yes, there is a resemblance, at the corners of the mouth."

"You are the first person who ever thought that I resembled Miretta.--Ah! jarni! there's holes here. If it hadn't been for you, monsieur le chevalier, I believe I should have fallen full length in the street."

"You must have turned your foot."

"Yes; and then, my head is in the same fix."

"Hold fast to me; don't be afraid to lean on me. I am made of iron, of steel."

"For my part, I feel as if my legs were made of cotton; it's because I've had so much to drink. Oh! what famous wines! How polite those liveried servants are! they kept filling my glass for me.--Ha! hold me up!"