Part 23

Having listened to Auguste's rendition of a nocturne, he informed his cousin that he sang divinely and that he would be delighted to do something for him. When he said this, the cousin expected very humble acknowledgments from Auguste; but our friend was not the man to bend the knee in order to obtain favors from anyone. The man who is conscious of his own worth never stoops to humble himself before his fellowmen, and to lavish obsequious flattery on those whose merit consists solely in their rank and wealth--very slender merit indeed in the eyes of those whose deserts are genuine, but very great in the eyes of the multitude, who prostrate themselves before fine clothes, decorations and the glitter of gold pieces, and would dance under a monkey's window if the monkey would toss money to them. _Numerus stultorum est infinitus._

Auguste, who was not of the right temperament to dance for a monkey, did not lavish compliments on the cousin with the air of beseeching his patronage; and the cousin, who was accustomed to be lauded and fawned upon by the poor devils who desired his countenance, was amazed that the young gentleman who had been commended to his attention, did not fulfil his devoirs by paying homage to him. So that he began to consider that Dalville was not such a good singer after all; and to put the finishing touch to his disgust, Auguste, who had bet on him when he took his seat at the écarté table, presumed to criticise his style of play and to try to prove to him that he lost a game by his stupidity. The cousin was exasperated, and he left his cousin's house, declaring that the young man whom she had taken under her protection was incapable of filling the most trivial office in the service of the government.

"Well!" said Auguste to Madame Valmont, at the end of the evening, "when may I call upon the minister's secretary?"

"Really, I don't know what to say. My cousin did not seem very well disposed when he went away. But what a strange man you are! Instead of trying to make a favorable impression on him, you expressed an opinion contrary to his several times, you said nothing agreeable to him, and you annoyed him at the card table."

"Oh, yes, madame, I understand: I am not worthy of an office because I did not cringe and crawl, and because I presumed to demonstrate to that gentleman that he did wrong to play his second queen."

"I don't say that, my dear Auguste. However, it was a mere spasm of ill-temper; I will see my cousin again and speak to him, and I still have hopes."

"No, madame, don't take any more trouble. I am touched by your interest in me, but I would rather be unemployed than pose as the humble servant of idiocy and self-conceit."

Auguste went home, raging against the vanity, arrogance and pettiness of mankind. Bertrand, who was impatiently awaiting his return, called out as soon as he appeared:

"Well! what about that government office, monsieur?"

"My friend," said Auguste, squeezing Bertrand's hand, "we will eat black bread, we will drink water, but I will not be the lackey of men whom I despise; I will not burn incense to insolent pride and stupidity! I will not debase myself before my fellowmen!"

"No, ten thousand squadrons! You mustn't do that, lieutenant. I see the place has gone to the devil, eh?"

"I must needs do homage to a fellow who assumed the most patronizing airs; agree with everything he said, even when it lacked common sense; and even say that he played well when, by his own stupid play, he caused me to lose thirty francs that I had bet!"

"Thirty francs at one crack! That was rather a big stake, lieutenant."

"What would you have? I was determined to test my luck."

"But black bread and water make a wretched meal."

"I still have some hope. Eugène is going to speak to his uncle, and perhaps I shall have better luck in that direction."

Several weeks passed, and Auguste finally met his friend, who said to him:

"I have spoken to my uncle; you can go to see him--I believe that he has a vacant place."

The next morning Auguste called upon the gentleman referred to. He entered the office and in due time reached the sanctum of Eugene's uncle, who was seated at his desk writing, and, without looking up, motioned to Auguste to wait.

Auguste, receiving no invitation to be seated, began by taking a chair and stretched out his legs, already looking with disfavor upon the gentleman who was not courteous enough to offer him a seat.

Five minutes passed and still the banker wrote on. Auguste, losing patience, said at last:

"Monsieur, I came here to apply for employment; Eugène must have told you----"

"One moment--I will be at your service directly, monsieur; I am very busy."

Five minutes more passed, and Auguste said to himself:

"The devil! I chose my time very badly. Is the man going to write like this for an hour? His business must be very important!"

But, after five minutes more, another person entered the office and went up to the gentleman who was writing.

"Good-morning, my dear fellow," he said. "Ah! you are engaged? Very well! I'll come again."

The gentleman at once laid aside his pen, rose, and detained the new arrival, saying:

"Why, is it you, my friend? Don't go, deuce take it! No one ever sees you now! I dined yesterday with someone who talked to me about you. Well, have you sold that cargo of Martinique coffee, the price of which I predicted would fall?"

The newcomer was about to reply when Auguste, rising, walked between him and the banker, and having put on his hat, said to the latter:

"Monsieur, you have kept me waiting for half an hour, unable to give me a minute, and you have the impertinence to enter into conversation in my presence with this gentleman who has just arrived! I have only this much to say to you--that you're a knave and a rascal! If you can find time to answer that, here's my address, and I shall expect to hear from you."

With that Auguste stalked from the room, leaving the _busy_ gentleman utterly bewildered by the compliment paid to him, and unable to find a word to say in reply.

Again Bertrand was awaiting his master's return; but when Auguste appeared, the other divined the result of his quest. The young man's eyes shone with anger.

"Black bread and water, eh, monsieur?" asked Bertrand.

"Yes, my friend, yes. Ah! these men! Upon my word, I have good grounds for becoming a misanthrope. I have never known the world so well as since I lost my money. Parvenus who think that they may presume to go any length because they are millionaires! Men of intellect who think of nobody but themselves, and who, provided that they are coddled and amused, show the most absolute indifference to everything else! People with the most polished manners who cheat you out of your money! Conceited asses who want to be flattered, fools who flatter them, parasites who suck your blood, swindlers who ruin you, and men who turn their backs on you when you're unlucky! Those are what I see now. And they are just what have always been seen, so 'tis said. Men are the same everywhere; they were no different before the Flood, and the study of history is simply the study of the passions which have ruled the actions of the human race for ages."

"In all this, my lieutenant, you forget the women, who----"

"Ah! let us say no ill of them, my friend, they are a hundred times better than we. Do we not find enjoyment even with those whom we deceive? That is one pleasant memory, at all events, of which misfortune cannot deprive us."

"That reminds me, monsieur, that Mademoiselle Virginie came to see you to-day."

"Poor Virginie! she doesn't know as yet of the change in my fortunes. Well! what did she say, Bertrand?"

"She said, first of all, that it wouldn't be well for an asthmatic subject to come up so high; then she asked me whether you had come up so many flights so that you could go down in a parachute; but when I told her how you had been swindled, why, I must do her the justice to say that she seemed deeply moved; she shed some tears and asked me for a glass of kirsch to pull her together. She's coming to breakfast with you some morning."

"I shall be very glad to see her; she, at all events, won't avoid me when she meets me."

"And those good people at Montfermeil--pretty Denise--do you think, monsieur, that they wouldn't be glad to see you again?"

"I am afraid that the cold welcome I gave Denise when she came to Paris----"

"She won't remember, monsieur, when she finds out that you're unfortunate. And that child you're so fond of--that you think is such a fine little fellow--why not go to see him?"

"Why? You seem to forget, Bertrand, that I can no longer do anything for him! I promised to educate him, to take charge of his future--and all my plans are destroyed!"

"But I should say, monsieur, that you have already done a great deal for the little fellow; instead of coming to Paris, he will remain in the village, and he won't be any worse off for that."

Auguste could not make up his mind to appear in the guise of a ruined man to the good people who had seen him scattering gold in profusion; a false shame deterred him from going again to the village, and he who had just been declaiming against the passions of men showed that he was not himself exempt from pride and vanity.

Auguste left Bertrand and went out in search of distraction and to dispel the black mood to which his reflections gave birth. Bertrand, left alone, reflected that all hopes of employment had vanished, and said to himself:

"What are we going to do when we haven't anything left, which won't be long? Shall I let him live on black bread and water? Sacrebleu! no, that shall never be! I am not capable of filling a clerk's place--besides, he wouldn't want me to leave him--but can't I work without his suspecting it?"

Bertrand thought a few moments, scratched his head, then exclaimed joyfully: "Why the devil didn't I think of it sooner?" Then he went slowly downstairs and hunted up his friend Schtrack.

"You make breeches, old fellow, don't you?" said Bertrand to the concierge; "in fact, you're a tailor----"

"Ja."

"Do you always have plenty of work?"

"Ja, I haf more than I can do."

"That's because you don't often work. Are you willing to give me some?"

"Preeches?"

"Whatever you choose, so long as I have work to do. I shall make a mess of it at first, but you can show me and I'll do better soon. You see, I'm anxious to work, I'm no more of a fool than you are, and it seems to me that I can do whatever you do. So you'll give me some work, will you?"

"Sacretié! Monsieur Pertrand, do you mean it?"

"Why, yes; I want to do something; I am tired of sitting all day with my arms folded; so I'll fold my legs, that will be a change. Is it agreed?"

"Ja, Monsieur Pertrand."

"That's good; but not a word of this before my master, or I'll begin my apprenticeship by sewing up your tongue."

"I won't say ein wort."

That same evening, as soon as Dalville had gone out, Bertrand went down to the concierge's quarters, and, seating himself in a small room behind the lodge, went to work with great zeal. At first the ex-corporal had much ado to use a needle, and he frequently thrust it into his finger; but when Schtrack said: "You've hurt yourself, mein friend!" Bertrand rejoined: "Don't you suppose a bayonet hurt more than that?"

Bertrand passed a large part of the day at work and sometimes he worked very late. By dint of application, he began to make himself useful; he earned very little, but he hoped to become more skilful in time.

Auguste had no suspicion of anything; he was rarely at home and never inquired what Bertrand was doing. But, when he looked at his faithful companion, he noticed that his eyes were very red and that he had a tired look.

"You're not sick, are you, my friend?" he asked.

"I, monsieur--I was never so well."

"You have a tired look, and your eyes seem weak."

"Oh! that's because I read a great deal at night."

"I didn't know that you were so fond of reading."

"That depends on the book, monsieur; I'm reading the life of the great Turenne."

"You must know it by heart."

"I never get tired of it, monsieur."

Auguste asked no more questions. Some time after, one night when he could not sleep because, with all his philosophy, his reflections were beginning to be less cheerful, Auguste got out of bed and determined to try reading himself. He went to Bertrand's room to get a light, and was amazed to find that his companion was absent. Bertrand's bed was not disturbed, so that he had not retired; and yet it was late when Auguste came home, and Bertrand was apparently waiting for him to come in before going to bed.

That midnight absence disturbed Auguste. He had no idea that his faithful follower would go about to wine-shops with Schtrack, in their present condition, and as he wished to find out at what time Bertrand left the house, he went downstairs, having decided to rouse Schtrack if necessary; he was determined to learn what had become of Bertrand.

It was three o'clock in the morning and everybody in the house was asleep, but Auguste saw a light in the concierge's lodge; the door was ajar and the light came from the room at the rear. Auguste went in and discovered Bertrand seated on a table beside the sleeping Schtrack, working resolutely on a piece of cloth in which his tired eyes could hardly follow the threads which were his guide.

At sight of his master, Bertrand stopped, crestfallen. Auguste was so moved that he stood for some moments unable to speak. At last he cried:

"What! you, working, Bertrand? Have you turned tailor?"

"Why not, monsieur? I handled a musket a long while, and now I am handling a needle; they say that an honest man honors whatever he touches."

"And you pass your nights working! you are ruining your eyesight in order to work a little more!"

"This is a mere chance, monsieur; there was a piece of work to be done in a hurry to-night, and I thought--But it's the first time, I swear!"

"Oh! don't try to deceive me any more! It's for me that you sit up all night and deprive yourself of rest. It's to spin out our funds a little longer that you are ruining your health. And I--I pass my days in idleness; I squander in an hour or two what you work like a dog as many nights to earn."

"No, monsieur, no, I work because I like it, because it amuses me; and if I should try to be less of a burden to you, would there be any harm in that? Haven't you been doing everything for me for a long time? and do you propose to forbid your old comrade to do something for you?"

Auguste could not reply, but he opened his arms to Bertrand and pressed him to his heart; then he forced his faithful servant to go upstairs with him and go to bed.

The next day, at daybreak, Auguste sent for an upholsterer.

"What idea have you got in your head now, monsieur?" queried Bertrand.

"I mean to sell our furniture, turn everything we own into cash, and then leave Paris and seek in some other land a means of turning to account such talents as I have. You will go with me, won't you, Bertrand?"

"Anywhere, monsieur, anywhere you choose. But why this sudden decision? Couldn't you do it without leaving Paris?"

"No, my friend; in this city, where I have lived the life of a man of wealth, it would be hard for me, I know, to turn my trifling talents to account. Forgive this last exhibition of weakness."

"Before we resort to this step, is there no longer any hope of your finding employment?"

"Hope is the very thing that is using up what little means I have left. Besides, here in Paris I am not able to resist my taste for dissipation. Perhaps I shall be wiser in some other country. So we must make our preparations to start. If this experiment isn't successful at all events it's proper to make it."

"But, lieutenant----"

"No objections, Bertrand. Your conduct suggested mine, and my mind is made up. We leave Paris to-morrow."

Bertrand saw that it was indeed useless for him to try to combat his master's plan; he realized too that it was the only course that remained for them to take, for he could not long support his master with the twenty sous that he earned by tailoring. So that he set about making preparations for departure.

Auguste, who liked to carry out his plans promptly when he had determined upon them, effected a sale of his furniture during the day, and the proceeds, added to what cash he had left, made about six thousand francs.

"I should like to know," he said to Bertrand, "if, with this amount of money, we can't go to the ends of the world in search of fortune?"

"It is certain, lieutenant, that there are a great many people who began with much less."

When everything was ready, Auguste, who proposed to go first to Italy, engaged seats in the Lyon diligence. Bertrand went to say good-bye to Schtrack.

"Farewell, old fellow," he said; "we're going round the world; if I come back, I'll have another drink with you."

"Sacretié! Good-bye, Monsieur Pertrand."

XX

POOR DENISE

Auguste and Bertrand had been gone several hours, and Schtrack was standing in the doorway trying to catch another glimpse of them, when a young village maiden, carrying a large bag of money in one hand, rushed into the courtyard and asked for Monsieur Dalville.

"Monsieur Dalville?" repeated Schtrack, taking his pipe from his mouth; "he isn't here any more, mamzelle."

"Not here! What do you mean, monsieur? This is certainly where he lived. I came here once before. You remember the time, don't you--when you wouldn't let me go upstairs?"

"Ah, ja! You had a little poy mit you then."

"Yes, monsieur. But where does Monsieur Dalville live now? Do you know, monsieur? It is absolutely necessary that I should see him and speak to him! Oh! if I only could have got this money sooner--what I owe him! But tell me, monsieur,--must I go somewhere else?"

"My little mamzelle, I don't think you will find Monsieur Dalville very easy."

"Why not, monsieur? I am ready to go anywhere--no matter where."

"I tell you it's too late. How do you expect to find the address of a man who's going round the world?"

"What's that?--Monsieur Auguste----"

"He started off this very day mit my friend Pertrand."

"Gone!"

"Ach ja! He got ruined here, so he's going to try to make a fortune somewhere else."

"He has gone away! You don't know where he is?"

"Yes, I do--don't I tell you he's gone round the world?"

"Oh! how unlucky! I have come too late!"

With that Denise lost consciousness and fell; but Schtrack caught her in his arms, and after laying his pipe on the post, carried her into the house. He took her into his lodge. When she swooned, the girl dropped the bag that she carried; it burst, and the five-franc pieces rolled about the courtyard. Schtrack, sorely embarrassed because he happened to be alone for the moment, ran from Denise to the money and from the money to his pipe, crying:

"Sacretié! this girl has to go and faint just when my wife ain't in! Well, well! my pipe's gone out, and the money's rolling all about! Sacretié!"

Luckily for the old German and for Denise, another lady entered the house at this juncture. It was Mademoiselle Virginie, who had come to invite herself to breakfast with Auguste, and who, when she saw the five-franc pieces scattered about the courtyard, exclaimed in surprise:

"Mon Dieu! what magnificence! They throw money out o'window here! I seem to have come just in time."

"Don't touch! don't touch!" cried Schtrack from his lodge; "it belongs to this girl who won't open her eyes."

"Well, old Dutchman, am I touching your money? What an uncivil old villain it is! What do you take me for, Monsieur Helvetian?--What girl can he be talking about?"

And as she spoke, Virginie walked toward the lodge, and she uttered a cry of surprise when she saw the young girl from Montfermeil, whom Schtrack was drenching with vinegar.

"It's Denise! it's my poor Denise!" she said, pushing Schtrack aside and taking charge of the young woman.

"Poor Denise! She ain't so poor, for I tell you that bag of crowns is hers," said Schtrack, returning to the courtyard to recover his pipe and pick up the money.

Virginie's efforts were soon successful in restoring Denise to consciousness. When she opened her eyes they rested on Virginie, and she exclaimed, sobbing bitterly:

"Oh! he has gone away, madame!"

"Who, pray, my dear love?"

"Monsieur Auguste."

"Auguste gone away! nonsense! he'll come back, of course, won't he?"

"Oh, no, madame! I shall never see him again. He's gone a long way."

"I say, Dutchman, is it true that Auguste has left Paris?"

"Ja! ja! he's gone round the world with Pertrand."

"Round the world! Great God! And I came to ask him to invite me to breakfast! Come, my little Denise, don't cry like that!--Poor child! she makes me feel sad.--So you loved Auguste, did you, my dear child?"

"Oh, yes, madame!"

"There! I knew it! she loved him! I suspected as much.--And he swore that he loved you too, of course; for these villains of men, they swear to that as if they were just saying good-morning."

"No, madame, Auguste didn't love me, I'm very sure of that!"

"Then it's very kind of you to weep for him."

"Oh! I can't help it."

"I know well enough that love is stronger than we are. I know all about that! I have been through it. There are men that one can't help persisting in loving.--And you came to Paris to see him?"

"Yes, madame, and to give him this money. When you came to see me three weeks ago, you told us that Monsieur Auguste was ruined. I didn't know anything about it before."

"Yes, yes, I remember; and I played ghost; and if it hadn't been for your dog nipping the calf of my leg, I'd have had the whole village in the air."

"Last summer Monsieur Auguste gave me a thousand crowns for little Coco; but he was rich then; to-day, as he isn't rich any more, it seemed to me that I ought to give back that money. We had used it for building a cottage and laying out a garden; but I made my aunt understand that we mustn't tell Monsieur Auguste that we had used the money at all. My aunt's kindhearted too. Besides, it was no more than our duty. As I succeeded in getting the last of the money yesterday, I started to bring it to him right away. I came alone so as not to be delayed, and after all I got here too late! He has gone, and he isn't coming back again!"

Denise began to cry again, while Schtrack returned with the money and handed it to her, saying:

"There ain't a single one missing; count 'em, mamzelle."

"Alas! what shall I do with it now? This money was for him," said Denise.

"You had better take it home again, my child; a person can never have too much of it," Virginie replied, while Schtrack, still holding the bag, repeated:

"Count 'em, mamzelle, if you blease."

"Don't you see that she don't want to count it, you pig-headed old fool?" said Virginie. "We all know that the Dutchman is honest."

"Never mind, count just the same, mamzelle, if you blease."

Virginie decided to count the money, because Schtrack would not otherwise have left them in peace. Meanwhile Denise said to the concierge:

"Did Monsieur Auguste look very sad when he went away, monsieur?"

"Sad? no, mamzelle, he was fery glad to go, judging from what he said."

"I'll bet he's gone to pick up a legacy," said Virginie, "and that's why he went off so sudden. Didn't he tell you so, Dutchman?"

"No, he haf not said anything of a legacy, but he sold[F] all his furniture."

[F] Schtrack is supposed to pronounce the word _vendu_--sold--like _fendu_--split or broken;--hence the misunderstanding.

"What's that? He smashed all his furniture? Had he gone mad, then?"

"I tell you he sold everything, to get money."

"Oh! sold his furniture! Why don't you say what you mean--with your Zurich French!"

"You see how badly off he must have been," said Denise, "to sell everything he had!"