Part 13

"It's cheese--very well done."

The two clerks concluded to attack their breakfast. They stuffed themselves with bread and cheese. But after a moment Bahuchet observed, with a sigh:

"Ah! what a pity that Mademoiselle Valentine de Mongarcin is married! She used to give me famous commissions! and she paid handsomely."

Léodgard, who up to this time had heard the lamentations of his two neighbors, but had paid no heed to them, suddenly became very attentive and did not lose a word of what followed; for Valentine's name had reached his ears, and nothing more was needed to arouse his curiosity.

"Oh, yes!" replied Plumard, making a wry face as he tasted the wine that had been brought them; "you used to receive well-filled purses in those days; and you used to treat me. I remember the commission about the white plume; I came near receiving a cudgelling."

"I would run the risk often now, to obtain the wherewithal to pay for a sumptuous repast."

"Why do you not go to the Hôtel de Mongarcin any more?"

"I do go there sometimes, as Maître Bourdinard, our employer, is still Madame de Ravenelle's solicitor and has charge of her affairs. But Mademoiselle Valentine doesn't live with her aunt since she married the Marquis de Santoval."

"The result being that you never see her."

"Faith! the other day the old aunt came within an ace of sending me to her niece to obtain her signature to a document concerning the sale of a piece of real estate; but some formalities had been omitted, and I had to carry the document back to the office, where they prepared another.--Sacrebleu! what beastly wine!"

"Messieurs," said Léodgard, turning to his neighbors, but without removing his hat, which partly concealed his face, "would you like to taste this? you may not think it bad."

And the count raised the bottle to fill the two clerks' goblets. They both made a gesture of surprise, which ended in the most gracious of smiles. They did not wait to be asked twice to hold their goblets.

"Really, my gentleman, we are deeply touched by your courtesy!" said Bahuchet, losing no time in emptying his goblet.

"Excellent! it is excellent!" cried Plumard, who would have been glad to salute his generous neighbor without uncovering his head, and who constantly put his hand to his cap, taking pains to reveal only half of his forehead.

"If you like it, you must fill again.--Holà! landlord, two more bottles!"

"Ah! my dear fellow," Plumard whispered in his comrade's ear, "what an agreeable gentleman! he has ordered two more bottles! we evidently have made a very favorable impression on him."

"Oh! there is something behind all this," Bahuchet replied, with a half-smile; "this young nobleman does not look to me like a fool, or a new arrival in Paris. If he treats us so generously, it means that he has need of us! But I snap my fingers at him! Let us accept his treat first, and let us not be bashful. It seems to me that I know this young dandy; and you, Plumard?"

"How do you expect me to recognize him? I can see only the end of his nose."

"Messieurs," said Léodgard, "would you not like to take something besides cheese with your wine?--Look you, I know what young men are; their purses are not always well filled."

"That is true!" said Plumard; "we will not play at pride with you, seigneur; we will admit frankly that we have but eleven sous; to be sure, we are clerks to Maître Bourdinard, solicitor, but he pays so little."

"In that case, allow me to offer you some breakfast."

"You invite us so graciously, that we cannot refuse."

"Landlord, bring us some ham, an omelet, cutlets--in short, the best of everything that you have!"

The tavern keeper stared in amazement at Léodgard and the two clerks; but the count had tossed a gold piece on the table, and such things were seen so rarely in that poor shop that the host took it up, gazed at it a long while, and rang it on the table to be sure that he was not mistaken.

Reassured at last with respect to the quality of the metal, he tossed his cap in the air and ran off to his kitchen, overturning all the tables that stood in his path.

The breakfast was soon brought. Léodgard ate something, so that his conduct might seem less extraordinary to his guests, whose glasses he was careful to fill frequently; and as they never refused, they were speedily in the best of humors. But Plumard did not carry his wine so well as his friend; he began to find difficulty in expressing himself, while Bahuchet was only a little giddy.

Léodgard leaned toward the latter and said to him in an undertone:

"If I should ask a service at your hands, and should offer to pay for it its weight in gold, should you be inclined to render it?"

"Altogether inclined, my gentleman; indeed, I am the one who would be greatly obliged. But move away a little, if you please; it is unnecessary that my comrade should hear you; when there is money to be earned, I prefer not to share it. To be sure, if he should hear now, he wouldn't understand. He is drunk! he doesn't know how to drink!"

The count pushed his seat away, and Bahuchet moved nearer to him. Plumard, his goblet having been filled once more, emptied it and began to talk to himself.

"Do you know the Marquis de Santoval's young wife?" asked Léodgard, taking pains to speak so that only Bahuchet could hear.

"Yes, seigneur, yes; but----"

"Your master attends to her aunt's business?"

"He does."

"You have a document to carry to Madame de Ravenelle's niece for her signature?"

"I say--you know that?"

"When you carry that document, you can take charge of a letter which I will give you for the marchioness; but you must hand that letter to no one but herself, and without allowing any other person to see you."

"Very good; I understand."

"Will you find a way to perform this commission?"

"Will I find a way! Never fear, I have done more difficult things."

"The husband must not suspect anything."

"He will know nothing about it."

"And you will try to get a reply. If she will not write one, remember exactly what she says to you."

"Word for word."

"Now, can you do all this to-day?"

"To-day? impossible! the document has to be copied; but to-morrow--to-morrow, I can go to the Hôtel de Santoval."

"To-morrow, then, at one o'clock in the afternoon, I will await you here, I will give you my letter, and you will return here and report to me the result of your mission.--See, take this money; I will give you as much more if you serve me adroitly and with discretion!"

"You will be content with me, my gentleman, for I am most desirous to serve you often.--Pardon, I think that I cannot be mistaken--you are the Comte de Marvejols?"

"Possibly--but try to forget it; I do not wish to be known here, or by your comrade."

"Never fear, monseigneur; I no longer know you."

"Until to-morrow, then!"

Léodgard left the wine shop. Bahuchet, with the keenest delight, counted the gold pieces which he held in his hand, but carefully concealed them from Plumard, who asked him why their new friend had gone away.

"Because he had business to attend to, had that most excellent gentleman! It seems to me that we too shall do well to leave the table. It is high time to return to the office."

"To the office? what! do you intend to work to-day?"

"Why not? Come, Plumard, off we go, my boy! The air will do you good."

And Bahuchet led his comrade from the shop; but when they were in the street, as Plumard stumbled at every step instead of going forward, Bahuchet deposited him on a stone bench, and hastened back alone to the solicitor's office.

The next day, Léodgard and the little clerk arrived at the wine shop at almost the same moment. The former handed Bahuchet the note for Valentine which he had prepared; and the clerk, who had had no breakfast, promised to perform his mission adroitly.

Valentine was alone in her bedroom, buried in meditation. Her brow was stern, and the young woman's thoughts were certainly not of a frivolous description. She did not hear her maid, who had just entered the room, until she said to her:

"A young clerk is here, and wishes to know if madame will receive him. He is sent by Madame de Ravenelle. I recognize him--it is the same young man to whom madame intrusted a white plume, before her marriage; it is Monsieur Bahuchet."

"Bahuchet!" cried Valentine, in whose mind that name evoked a thousand memories. "Is that little fellow here?"

"Yes, madame."

"Admit him at once."

The little Basochian was ushered into the room; he bent himself double as he entered, retaining, however, the mocking, self-sufficient air which was customary with him, and which was intensified at that moment by the importance of the commission with which he was charged.

"My aunt sends you to me, you say, monsieur?" said Valentine, gazing fixedly at the messenger. "What does she want? or rather, with what message are you intrusted?"

"Madame, it is a matter of a parcel of real estate--a house that belonged to a second cousin on your mother's side; the said cousin having deceased without issue, and the estate descending to her collateral heirs----"

"Enough, enough, monsieur, I beg you! I understand nothing about inheritances, and I do not care to have my brain confused with all these details, which I find horribly wearisome. Come to the point. What am I to sign? a power of attorney?--Come, tell me quickly!"

"I was coming to the point, madame. Yes, I have a document in my pocket, which you will be good enough to sign, perhaps; but not until you have first read it carefully, for one should never sign anything without reading it."

Bahuchet accompanied his words with such an expressive pantomime, that it was impossible for Valentine not to understand that the little clerk had another message for her, which he dared not deliver before a third person. Her face brightened at once, and she said to the girl:

"Miretta, keep a close watch, be on your guard; and if you hear Monsieur de Santoval coming, move a chair.--And now, Monsieur Bahuchet, explain yourself; no more grimaces. What have you to say to me?"

"Does madame wish that I--before her femme de chambre?"

"I have no secrets from her. Speak at once."

After casting a glance about the room, Bahuchet took from his pocket the letter he had concealed there.

"Madame, the document to be signed was only a pretext to gain access to you. But here is a note which a young and handsome cavalier bade me hand you in secret.--Please to read it; he is waiting for me close by, and hopes for an answer."

Valentine took the letter and read it at once. An expression of joy, of triumph, lighted up her face. The little clerk had respectfully walked away, and could not hear the words which the marchioness, after reading the note, muttered between her teeth:

"Aha! monsieur le comte! you ask for a rendezvous! You are very impatient, now! But you go too fast!"

She beckoned Bahuchet to her side.

"Where was this note given to you?"

"Near by--at a wine shop."

"Do you know the person who gave it to you?"

"No, madame; but it was easy to guess that he was a nobleman."

"And he is waiting for you now?"

"Yes, madame; at the same place where he gave me his letter. What reply shall I take to him?"

"None."

"What, madame! no letter, and no word?"

"You will simply tell him that I smiled when I read his letter, and that I placed it--here."

Valentine, as she spoke, slipped the letter into her bosom.

At that moment, Miretta hurriedly moved a chair.

"My husband is coming--let me have the paper--quickly!"

"Here it is, madame; also a quill and an inkhorn; we always have them about us.--Omit one of your baptismal names," he added, in an undertone; "that will give me a pretext for coming again, and I fancy that it may be necessary."

The Marquis de Santoval entered his wife's room and scrutinized the little clerk, who bowed to the floor. The marquis paused in the middle of the room, saying:

"I disturb you, madame; you have visitors."

"Not at all, monsieur. My aunt, Madame de Ravenelle, has sent her solicitor's clerk with this document for me to sign. It is nothing very interesting, as you see--the sale of an old house, I believe, is it not?"

Bahuchet hastened to reply in his shrill falsetto:

"Yes, madame, the sale of the estate described herein, situated on Rue de la Parcheminerie, which street takes its name from the guild of workmen who once lived there, as the custom formerly was; so that we have Rues de la Ferronnerie, de la Heaumerie, de la Coutellerie, and many others. But as Paris increased in size----"

"Very good, young man, very good," said the marquis; "madame has signed, I believe?"

"Yes, monsieur le marquis, that is true; and I have only to take my leave."

And the little clerk pocketed the deed, saluted, and left the room.

Monsieur de Santoval remained for some time talking with his wife. But when he had left her, he called his valet and said:

"Did you see a very small man, with his nose in the air, who went away from the house not long ago?"

"Yes, monsieur le marquis."

"If he comes again to speak with madame, follow him when he goes away; see where he goes, and ascertain whether he speaks to anybody on leaving here. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly, monsieur le marquis; and your orders shall be carried out."

"I rely upon it; for I am well aware of your zeal and intelligence."

XLIII

ANOTHER THRASHING

Léodgard was but partially satisfied with the result of his message. The marchioness had smiled, and had placed the letter over her heart. To be sure, that did not indicate that she was annoyed with him who had written it; but it advanced his love affair very little.

"And now you have no excuse for going again to the marchioness's, have you?" the count asked his messenger.

Whereupon the little clerk drew himself up, placed his hand proudly on his hip, and replied with a self-satisfied air:

"We always have one, monseigneur; we are never at a loss for expedients, God be praised! This time we told the lady to omit one of her names when she signed the deed. That will suffice to require us to return for the rectification of that error.--Ha! ha! that was not bad!--But if we had not that pretext, we would invent a thousand others."

"Very good! I see that you are a sharp-witted youth."

"I dare to flatter myself that I am, seigneur."

"Take this money, and come again to this same wine shop four days hence; I will then give you another letter for the marchioness."

"Agreed, monsieur le comte; and be sure that on that day I will arrange still another pretext for returning to the house."

Four days later, Bahuchet, having concealed beneath his doublet a second letter from Léodgard, and holding in his hand a large roll of paper covered with another roll of parchment, containing the deed of transfer which he expected would make many trips from the solicitor's office to the Hôtel de Santoval, presented himself again at the latter place and asked to speak with madame la marquise.

He was admitted without difficulty. This time Valentine was alone in her room. When she saw the little clerk come in, parchment in hand, she could not help smiling.

Bahuchet unrolled his parchment and said aloud:

"The last time that I had the honor to see madame la marquise, when she signed this document she omitted one of her baptismal names; that omission might, at some later time, give rise to discussion, to demands for birth certificates; it might even result in making void the conveyance which you wish to effect."

"Oh! it is quite possible, monsieur; I am very absent-minded."

Bahuchet, having walked to Valentine's side, produced the note which was in his doublet and handed it to her with the document. The young woman gave the preference to the love letter. She opened and read it, and found therein renewed protestations of an everlasting passion, and the same request for a rendezvous, at which the writer could express with his voice the love that he felt for her.

Having read the letter, Valentine hastily concealed it in her alms purse; then she said in an undertone to the young clerk, who questioned her with his eyes:

"You will say that I am too closely watched at this moment. He must wait."--Then she continued, speaking aloud: "Where shall I write the name that I forgot, monsieur? I know nothing about your documents."

"Here, madame, if you please; then make a flourish under the word inserted.--Omit one letter of the name," Bahuchet added, in an undertone; "that will furnish me with a reason for coming again."

Valentine did what the little clerk suggested; whereupon he once more rolled up the deed, carefully covered it with the parchment, and, bowing low to the marchioness, left the house without seeing the Marquis de Santoval.

He hastened to join Léodgard, to whom he repeated the verbal reply that had been given him. The count stamped his foot impatiently, muttering:

"Wait!--Ah! then she does not share my love! And not to condescend to write me a word! not to send me the slightest pledge, the veriest trifle!--Can you go to the Hôtel de Santoval again?" he said to the little clerk.

"Oh! yes, seigneur; I have arranged a little _plea in bar_--it is such a simple matter in our profession! And the next time I will find another."

"In that case, return in a fortnight; that is a long time! but since she will have it so--I will tell you then what you must do."

Bahuchet, having been handsomely paid once more, promised to be exact; and he returned to his office, oblivious of the fact that he had been followed on leaving the Hôtel de Santoval, and continued to be till he had entered the office door.

The fortnight having passed, Bahuchet met Léodgard again at their usual place of rendezvous.

"Go to the marchioness," said the count; "as my letters have obtained no reply, you will not carry one this time; but you will say to her that I entreat her to give you a word for me; add that, if she denies me this favor, I am capable of committing the most imprudent acts in order to see her.--Go--I will await your return; and I will double the usual sum if you bring me a note from the marchioness."

"By Plumard's scalp!" said Bahuchet to himself, as he walked toward the Hôtel de Santoval; "the lovely marchioness simply must write a few words! I will grovel at her feet to obtain them.--Vertuchoux! this is a right good trade! I am feathering my nest!--Let things go on like this for a few months, and I shall have enough to set up for myself!--I will keep a tavern adjoining the law courts; that is more amusing than pettifogging.--Here is my charmer's house; I have my deed, I am all armed--I will present myself boldly!"

Bahuchet knocked at the gate, which was opened to admit him, then suddenly closed behind him. He smiled affably to the concierge, saying:

"I have come to request the honor of speaking with Madame la Marquise de Santoval on business, from my employer's office."

And he was about to walk toward the vestibule leading to the main staircase, when four servants suddenly appeared, lifted him up, carried him to the carriage house, and there thrashed him mercilessly with cudgels and stirrup leathers, paying no heed to his shrieks and his entreaties.

The operation concluded, the valet de chambre, who had superintended it, began to search the little Basochian, and did not release him until he was certain that he bore no secret missive. Then he hustled him to the gate, which was reopened, and, with a few parting blows of the stirrup leathers, threw him into the street, saying:

"This is the way that you will be treated whenever you appear here."

"Oh! bigre! oh! my ribs! my loins! This is infamous--the villains! how they went at it! Hoo! I shall be hunchbacked. What an ambush! Catch me going there again, to their devilish hôtel! And I thought it a good business!--A pretty business, on my word! I must be pretty sturdy to be able to walk. Hoo! what a pity that it didn't occur to me to send Plumard to do my errand to-day!"

Groaning and limping, Bahuchet arrived at the wine shop. Instead of going in, he beckoned to Léodgard to join him, and said:

"Let us not stay near that house, monsieur le comte; it's not a safe place! Perhaps they have a treat in store for you like the one I've just received."

He then described the way he had been maltreated by the Marquis de Santoval's servants.

"And they searched you?" asked Léodgard, apparently little moved by his messenger's groans.

"Yes, seigneur, from top to bottom!"

"It is lucky that I gave you no letter to-day."

"Yes, seigneur; for I believe that in that case they would have killed me on the spot.--Hoo! I am bruised to a jelly! I shall have a serious illness!"

"Nonsense! a man should not be so delicate! Just for a few blows with a cudgel!"

"A few blows? No, thanks, seigneur! they rained on my body like hail! If you had been beaten like that----"

"I would have defended myself! I would have killed two or three of the miserable lackeys!"

"Oh, yes! that would have been the finishing touch. I should have got myself into a pretty pickle! to trot off to the Châtelet or the Bastille, and rot there!"

"Nonsense! hold your peace and take this gold, which will heal your wounds."

"Thanks, seigneur! I certainly do need to buy medicines, ointments to rub my body."

"And before long you will be in condition to return to the marchioness's house."

"Return to the Hôtel de Santoval? Merciful heaven!"

And, waiting to hear no more, Bahuchet ran off as fast as his bruised legs allowed, and soon vanished from the count's sight.

"The coward!" exclaimed Léodgard, as he watched the little clerk's flight; "he is afraid of the danger!--So this Marquis de Santoval has suspicions; he plays the spy, he posts his servants in ambush! But it will avail him nothing! If Valentine will second me, we will crush all the obstacles that he may place between us!"

Some time had passed without any new occurrence, when Miretta one day entered Maître Bourdinard's office, where Plumard was trying to detach the last remaining piece of his plaster; while Bahuchet regaled himself with a small ham and a bottle of superfine old wine, in which he indulged himself with the proceeds of his visits to the Hôtel de Santoval.

On recognizing the marchioness's young lady's-maid, Bahuchet turned pale and swallowed a mouthful the wrong way, dreading a new cudgelling.

But the girl smiled at him and motioned that she wished to speak with him in secret.

The little clerk regretfully quitted his ham and went out with Miretta, who said to him when they reached a solitary spot:

"Are you willing to undertake a commission?"

"If it is to go to the Hôtel de Santoval again, never! I have had enough of that!"

"No, it is not that, but to carry this note to him who sent you to my mistress."

"Oh! that is a different matter."

"Here, this is for you; will you do the errand?"

Bahuchet at once placed in his belt the purse she handed him; then he glanced at the note and said:

"But I see no address."

"What is the use? you know perfectly well for whom it is!"

"I beg pardon! I know perfectly well that it is for the young lord who employed me; but I do not know that young lord; I know neither his name nor his residence; I have never seen him, except in the cheap wine shop where he always waited for me."

"And you do not know that he is Comte Léodgard de Marvejols?"

"The young Comte de Marvejols!--Peste!"

"You lie, Monsieur Bahuchet; for you told us about Comte Léodgard long ago, and you knew him perfectly well then!"

"It is difficult to deceive you, my pretty brunette!" said Bahuchet, scratching his ear; "I said that I didn't know the lover, because he ordered me not to know him; but, between ourselves, I think we may speak more frankly. It is a bargain; I will take the letter to the count."

"Do you know where he lives?"