Virginie and her friend went to their chamber and to bed, and soon fell
asleep, one nursing her bites, the other lisping that the tall young man
had many of Théodore's attributes. Mère Fourcy and Coco went to sleep
also. Denise alone could obtain no rest; she thought constantly of
Auguste, of the change in his fortunes, and of what she could do for him
to prove her friendship. But she no longer felt any inclination to ask
the advice of the ladies from Paris, because all the foolish antics in
which she had seen them indulge had somewhat lessened her esteem for
them. She felt that she must be guided by her heart alone; she was sure
that it would never give her any advice for which she would need to
blush.
The next morning, after breakfast, the ladies, being already sadly bored
in the country, where they desired at first to pass a fortnight, bade
Mère Fourcy and Denise adieu and took their places in the Paris coach.
"Ah! my dear," said Virginie, "how I long to be in Paris! it seems to me
that it's six months since I saw Rue Montmartre and the Ambigu-Comique."
"What do you think of me, who haven't theen Théodore for twenty-four
hourth!"
"Say what you will, there's no place but Paris for fun and dress and the
theatre and punch!"
"Ah! if I had to live in the country, I thould die there!"
XIX
A MAN IN A THOUSAND
After his visit to the old man on the fifth floor, Auguste had made a
vow to be prudent and to profit by the lesson which the unfortunate
Dorfeuil had unconsciously given him. But an old proverb says: "Drive
away the natural, and it returns at a gallop;" and Auguste's nature
still impelled him to do foolish things. Moreover, being unable
thenceforth, by reason of an instinctive delicacy for which he cannot be
blamed, to seek diversion at his window, he was driven to seek it
elsewhere. From his more prosperous days Auguste had retained the habit
of playing the grand seigneur, of reckoning the cost of nothing, of
following only his first impulse. He was as generous to the unfortunate
as to his mistresses: to confer pleasure on others is such a gratifying
habit that it is very hard to abandon it. There are people, however, who
have never known that gratification.
Upon examining his cash-box, Bertrand had discovered the enormous
deficit consequent upon Auguste's visit to the old man. Unable to
understand how his master could have spent so much money in so short a
time, Bertrand concluded that they had been robbed, and made an infernal
row. He proposed to go down and cudgel Schtrack and his wife, to teach
them to allow thieves to enter the house; but Auguste detained him,
saying:
"Don't get excited, my dear fellow, we haven't been robbed."
"Why, monsieur, we had about ten thousand francs left three days ago;
now I can find only seven--and you say we haven't been robbed!"
"No, Bertrand; it was I who took the money."
"Oh! excuse me, lieutenant; if you have got it, that's different."
"I don't say that I have it; I tell you that I had a use for it."
"A thousand crowns in three days! you're doing well, lieutenant. I don't
quite see why we came up to the fifth floor, for you didn't spend any
more on the first."
"I met an old friend, Bertrand,--he was in destitution."
"We may very well be there, too, and it won't be long either, if we go
on at this rate. Excuse me, lieutenant, I know how generous you are, I
know your kind heart; but still you must remember that you haven't
twenty thousand francs a year any more; and when you can't have anything
but a piece of beef for dinner, it don't seem to me that it's the time
to give other people partridges."
"Don't be angry, Bertrand; I am going to be prudent--yes, miserly."
"Miserly! nonsense, lieutenant! you'll never have that fault! In fact, I
don't believe it would help us now."
"I am not without prospects; I am promised a place in a government
office."
"Really?"
"With a salary of six thousand francs."
"Impossible!"
"Quite possible, on the contrary; but you see everything in dark
colors."
"It is you who see everything in rose color, monsieur."
"If that place should fail me, it is probable that I shall go into a
banking-house, as bookkeeper."
"Did you ever keep books, monsieur?"
"No; but what difference does that make? Do you suppose that one has to
study for a place like that, as one would study mechanics? With a neat
handwriting, familiarity with rates of exchange and mathematics, and a
little intelligence, you can fill any sort of clerkship. I know that
there are people who study two or three years to learn how to copy a
letter, and others who consider themselves Archimedeses, Newtons or
Galileos, because they pass their lives doing sums."
"It seems to me, monsieur, that when a man has a place, he ought to
work."
"Very well, I will work, Bertrand; that won't trouble me any. I have
done nothing, because I had nothing to do; but the moment I have
employment, you will see how ardently I will go at my work. Ah! I wish I
were there now!"
"So do I, monsieur; in the first place, because you would be earning
money, and in the second place, because, when a man is busy, he does
fewer foolish things. Who is it who is going to get these places for
you?"
"For the first one, a lovely woman, who has a cousin who's very intimate
with the minister's secretary. Oh! I tell you, Bertrand, these
women--they're the only ones to obtain things; and, say what you will,
their acquaintance isn't always a burden; when they take a person under
their protection, they go about it with such zeal, such ardor, that they
can't fail."
"And the other place, lieutenant--is it a woman who is going to obtain
that for you, too?"
"No, it's a young man, with whom I have dined quite often--an excellent
fellow, and most obliging. His uncle is partner in a bank; he has
promised to speak to him about me, and the first vacant place will be
given me."
"That would come in very handily, monsieur."
"But you must see that, in order to make yourself agreeable to those
whose support you require, there is always more or less money to be
spent: with the charming young woman, it's theatre parties and little
presents; with the young man, luncheons and dinners to be given him; for
it isn't fashionable to help people unless you believe them to be in
comfortable circumstances."
"I understand: one must be ruined altogether before one has any
resources."
"That is called sowing that you may reap."
"You've been sowing a good long time, monsieur."
"I tell you that within a fortnight I shall have employment."
"When that day comes I'll go for a walk with Schtrack."
"Give me some money, Bertrand."
"Money, monsieur?"
"Yes, Eugène is going to dine with me to-day; he's the young man whose
uncle is a banker. To-night I am going to call on the charmer whose
cousin is to say a good word for me. There will be cards, no doubt, and
if I have the look of being hard up and of being afraid to lose a few
francs, people won't condescend to look at me."
"Ah, yes, I understand; you want money, so that you can sow."
"Yes, my friend."
After filling his purse, Auguste went to meet the friend with whom he
had an appointment, and whom he was to entertain at dinner, together
with several others who might possibly be useful to him. Dalville took
his guests to one of the very best restaurants; he would have felt
ashamed to dine at a place where they would have been as comfortable
and as well served at less expense, but which was not so highly
considered in fashionable society. During dinner they thought of nothing
but laughing and joking, and Auguste was very careful not to mention his
desire for employment; that would have seemed to indicate that he was in
straitened circumstances, which would produce an ill effect. Not until
the dessert, while they were drinking their champagne, did Eugène say to
Auguste:
"Are you still wanting something to do?"
"Why, yes; I am tired to death of idleness; I am sick of a life of
pleasure."
"That's a good idea; work--it will be a little change for you, and it
helps to reform wayward youth. My uncle will think so. I'll speak to him
about you when I see him."
Auguste dared not say that he would like to have him make a point of
seeing his uncle. The young men, having had an excellent dinner, left
Auguste, making all sorts of proffers of service, and renewing their
assurances of devotion; and he betook himself to the lovely woman who
had promised to assist him and who was to have mentioned him to her
cousin.
Ladies are beyond question better advocates than men; it certainly is
easier for them to succeed, for they obtain with a smile what has been
denied again and again to obscure merit, to shamefaced poverty. This
fact does credit to our gallantry at least, if not to our justice, and
it is in human nature to submit to be seduced by beauty.
Madame Valmont was greatly interested in Auguste, who accompanied her
excellently on the piano, and sang nocturnes in her salon with excellent
taste. She had kept her word by inviting her cousin that evening, in
order to introduce Auguste to him. The cousin was a man of fashion, who
was received in the best society; addicted to making promises freely and
forgetting on the morrow what he had promised the night before; but
desirous of playing the patron even when he did not patronize, and
deeming himself a mortal of superior mould before whom everyone should
bow.
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."