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!"
"That don't prove anything, my dear girl; in the first place, as he was
leaving Paris, he didn't need any furniture; and then there are people
who prefer to live in furnished lodgings. For my part, I've sold my
furniture four or five times, and yet I stay in Paris; you see that
every day.--But after all, in which direction has the fellow gone?
Didn't he tell you, monsieur le concierge?"
"Yes; he's gone round the world."
"The deuce! that's a definite address! Think of writing: 'To Monsieur
So-and-So, going round the world!'--And he's taken Bertrand with him,
has he?"
"Yes, I'm fery sorry for it, because Pertrand was just beginning to work
fery gut."
"Bertrand, work? at what, pray?"
"At making preeches, bantaloons; it was me who taught him."
"My dear man, I think you must be dreaming now. Bertrand, the old
soldier, Auguste's faithful servant, make breeches?"
"Like a horse."
"You're crazy!"
"No, no, I ain't; Pertrand, he did work. He passed every night working,
and my wife told me he did it to help his master, who was throwing away
all his money."
Virginie was speechless, but Denise exclaimed:
"I understand only too well. Dear old Bertrand! I knew he was a fine
fellow! He worked to help Auguste, who didn't know anything about it,
probably."
"Oh, no! he was going to sew up my tongue if I said a word."
"Well, madame, if Monsieur Auguste hadn't been without means, would
Bertrand have worked at tailoring--worked all night?"
"Faith, my dear girl, I don't understand it at all. The last time I saw
Auguste he treated me to punch, and yet he must have moved up to the
fifth floor even then. To be sure, he had such a kind heart, he was so
generous!--Well, well! there she is crying again! My dear Denise, you'll
make your eyes as red as a rabbit's; and that won't bring Auguste back.
Poor child! how she loves him! Those ne'er-do-wells must have some kind
of magic power, to inspire such passions. Don't get excited,
Denise--he'll come back, he hasn't gone away forever. You'll see him
again, I'm sure of it; and when he knows how much you love him, I
propose that he shall love you and cherish you; I'll tell him what grief
and torture he has caused you; I'll tell him how good, how gentle and
sweet you are. Come, don't cry any more. Kiss me, Denise; Auguste will
love you, for you well deserve it."
Virginie was deeply moved; Denise's suffering had melted her; for the
first time in a very long while, genuine tears fell from her eyes as she
threw her arms about the village girl.
Nothing pacifies the wretched so quickly as to find that someone else
shares their distress. Denise listened to Virginie's entreaties; she
exerted herself to summon her courage; she wiped her eyes, rose, and
said with a long-drawn sigh:
"I'll go back to the village then."
"Yes, my dear girl, that's the wisest thing you can do."
"But suppose he should come back, madame?"
"Well, I'll let you know, I'll come and tell you; I promise to do my
utmost to learn something about him."
"Ah! how good you are, madame!"
"Why, no--the trouble is that you're a slip of a girl who ought to be
kept under glass."
"Monsieur le concierge," said Denise, "if you hear anything about
Monsieur Auguste, don't forget to ask where he is, and find out where a
person can write to him."
"Ja, mamzelle."
"Don't you be afraid, little Denise: I'll come often and ask Dutchy if
he knows anything. He's a good fellow, though he does smoke all the
time, is Monsieur--What's your name?"
"Schtrack."
"Schtrack! Oh! what a name! Schtrack! I believe that that means
blackguardism in German. Never mind--au revoir, Monsieur Schtrack. Come,
my love, I'll walk to the diligence office with you."
Denise left Auguste's late abode, and, with her arm through Virginie's,
returned to the diligence office, carrying the bag of money which she
had no choice but to take back to the village. Virginie offered to take
the trip with her, but the girl declined her offer with thanks, and,
after urging her to try to find out something concerning the man whom
she had hoped to find in Paris, she entered the stage and rode sadly
back to Montfermeil, saying to herself:
"Alas! I am not lucky in my trips to Paris."
XXI
THE TRAVELLERS' FIRST ADVENTURE
Auguste and Bertrand had taken the Lyon diligence. The young man was
inside, and his companion on the box,--in order to enjoy the fresh air,
so he told Auguste, but in reality as an economical measure.
It was the first time that Auguste had ever found himself in a public
conveyance; accustomed as he was to drive in a light cabriolet, drawn by
spirited horses, and to follow naught save his own desires and stop
whereever he chose, it was not without a feeling of disgust that he
found himself compelled to travel with people whom he did not know, to
be pushed by this one, elbowed by that one, and forced to listen to
conversations which had no interest for him.
At his left was a stout party of some fifty years, with a cotton cap on
his head, surmounted by a red handkerchief, and over it all a
helmet-shaped cap trimmed with fur, with vizors before and behind. At
his right was an old woman, whose face luckily was concealed beneath a
shabby black satin bonnet, over which was thrown a green veil that no
one was tempted to raise.
The vehicle had barely started when the man on Auguste's left began to
perform like neighbor Mauflard, and the lady on the right followed his
example. But in his sleep the stout gentleman dug his elbow into
Auguste's ribs, and the old lady dropped her head on his shoulder.
Finding his hands full with repelling the elbow of the one and avoiding
the other's head, he said to himself: "It's great fun to travel by
diligence! Oh! my pretty cabriolet, which Bébelle drew so swiftly
through the dust, where art thou? Alas! if I had been more prudent, I
should still possess thee; for if I had not begun to anticipate my
income, I should not have encroached on my capital; if I had not done
that, I should not have dreamed of disturbing my funds, which were
safely invested; and I should have found that twenty thousand francs
absolutely assured was better than thirty thousand due solely to
speculation.--Pray remove your head, madame, if you please.--In that
case, I shouldn't have put my property in the hands of that knave of a
Destival, who consequently would not have run away with it; and then I
should still be as rich as ever. I should have been able to do good with
my money; and I would have gone to Montfermeil again and kept my promise
to that pretty boy; I would not have made love to Denise, as she loves
some man in the village who is probably married to her before now; but
I would have seen her married, and would have reminded her in jest of
that fall from her donkey in the woods; perhaps--Oh! for heaven's sake,
monsieur, keep your arms still--you are breaking my ribs!"
Auguste's opposite neighbors were two gentlemen and a lady. The latter,
who sat between the two men, was directly opposite Auguste; but as she
wore a very large hood, and as she kept her head lowered, he could not
see her face.
"Probably she isn't pretty," said our traveller to himself, "or she
would have raised her head before this."
The lady's dress was very simple--a travelling costume. The two men
beside her were travelling salesmen, one in wines, the other in linens;
they had begun a conversation which seemed likely not to end before they
reached Lyon.
Auguste was dazed by their constant chattering about casks, _veltes_,
_jouys_, Rouen silks, good years and failures; and, disgusted by the
proximity of the sleepers, he was regretting that he was not with
Bertrand, and longing for the first halt, when the lady in the hood
moved her foot and touched Auguste's. A "pardon, monsieur" was instantly
pronounced in a very pleasant voice. This incident roused Auguste from
his despondency, inspiring the wish to see the face of his vis-à-vis;
and as his legs were in close proximity to hers, he moved them slightly
and said a few words as to the lack of space in diligences;--an excuse
for beginning a conversation. The lady replied with a "Yes, monsieur,"
but did not raise her head; whereupon our young man's curiosity became
all the keener. She did not seem disposed to talk, but she did move her
knees, which touched those of her vis-à-vis. Auguste was conscious of a
desire to press one of those knees between his own, but was deterred by
this thought: "Suppose she should prove to be ugly! How I should regret
having made her acquaintance!"
Notwithstanding, the young man ventured to press one knee gently; she
did not withdraw it, but she did not raise her head; and Auguste,
secretly enjoying the knee-play, said to himself: "Perhaps it's as well
that I can't see her features, for I can at all events imagine that she
is charming, adorable. With that idea in my mind, the mere rustling of
her dress causes me a pleasant sensation, and it helps me to forget the
tedium of the journey. Ah! madame, if you are ugly, do not look up, I
pray, for you would thereby put an end to a too delicious illusion."
As they descended a hill, a violent jolt nearly overturned the
diligence. The stout man and the old lady woke with a jump. At the same
moment the hooded lady uttered a shriek of alarm and raised her head.
Auguste saw a pretty face of twenty to twenty-five years, fresh and
blooming, regular features, expressive eyes--in short, a charming
ensemble which delighted him and caused him to press more tenderly the
knee that was between his.
But she had already dropped her head again. The scare was at an end, the
commercial travellers resumed their conversation, Auguste's neighbors
closed their eyes once more, and he, enraptured by what he had seen,
moved constantly nearer to his vis-à-vis, who allowed him to place his
feet on hers.
"She is lovely," thought Auguste, "but her actions are very strange. If
she allows me to press her knees like this, it must be that she likes
it, or that she doesn't dare to take offence. In the first case, she is
a woman who is not inclined to avoid adventures; in the second case, she
is an innocent young thing, who has never travelled by diligence
before. I will satisfy myself that the second conjecture is the true
one; we should always look at the best side."
The diligence stopped at Corbeil. The two salesmen hastily left the
vehicle; the stout man extricated himself from his corner with
difficulty; the old woman of the green veil dropped into the arms of the
man who held the door open, and Auguste, having alighted, offered his
hand to the young lady in the hood. But she replied with a faint sigh:
"Thanks, monsieur, I am not going to get out."
"She isn't going to get out!" repeated Auguste to himself, as he stood
by the door. "Poor thing! she isn't coming to the inn to dine, which
ordinarily indicates obligatory economy."
"Coming to dinner, lieutenant?" inquired Bertrand, who had climbed down
from his seat on the box, and was awaiting Auguste at the inn door.
"Yes, yes, here I am."
"Have you left anything in the diligence?"
"No, but I would have liked----"
"Do you hear that? they say that the passengers must hurry."
Bertrand came forward to see what was keeping his master by the
diligence; he spied the young lady and muttered:
"Morbleu! another! I might have known that there was a petticoat at the
bottom of it! Remember, lieutenant--we left Paris in order to be good,
to reform."
"You are right, my friend," said Auguste; and he turned regretfully away
from the vehicle and followed Bertrand to the inn.
The travellers' dinner was soon at an end; urged on by the driver, they
all returned to their places, the old lady carrying her dessert.
Auguste gazed with renewed interest at the young woman, who probably had
dined on a modest loaf, and he placed his knees against hers once more
with greater respect than before, because the idea of misfortunes puts
thoughts of pleasure to silence.
The old woman requested Auguste to break some nuts which she had brought
from the table, the stout man offered him snuff, the commercial
travellers entered into conversation with him, everyone trying to become
better acquainted with his fellow-passengers. The little lady in the
hood alone held her peace. But darkness began to fall. Auguste longed
for it; his neighbors dozed, the salesmen did likewise, and he moved his
knees forward, trying by that means to establish an understanding with
his vis-à-vis, and saying to himself:
"If she is unfortunate, I must try to comfort her. Moreover, I squeezed
her knees this morning, and should I act as if I thought her less
attractive just because she hasn't the means to dine at inns? That would
be worthy of Monsieur de la Thomassinière."
As he did not wish to give his vis-à-vis such an opinion of him, the
young man tenderly pressed the limb which she abandoned to him, and
ventured to take a hand, which she did not withdraw. Night does not
always bring gloomy thoughts, and Auguste looked forward to obtaining a
kiss from the little lady, who seemed of so yielding a humor. But his
two neighbors embarrassed him; at the slightest motion on his part
toward leaning forward, the old lady and the stout man fell across his
back, and he could not return to his place until he had thrust them back
into their corners. The two salesmen, too, in their slumber, leaned
against the young woman who separated them, and their heads frequently
came in contact with her hood.
"Riding in a diligence is not all pleasure," said Auguste in an
undertone.
"Oh, no! it isn't all pleasure, monsieur," replied the young woman.
But, in order to enjoy greater pleasure, the young man leaned forward
again and bestowed a loving kiss on one of the salesmen, whose face was
at that moment in front of the hood. The salesman woke, trying to guess
the source of that mark of affection, and Auguste was amazed to find
that the young woman's chin was less soft than her hand.
The salesman could see nobody save his neighbor who was likely to have
kissed him while he slept; and although he was unaccustomed to inspire
passions, he was convinced that he had kindled a flame in the heart of
the young woman by his side. As he did not choose to be behindhand with
her, the young man, who had hitherto had no thought for anything but his
samples, and the duties imposed on his wares, began to think of
something different, and to play with his hands on the young woman's
knees. She made no resistance, while the two men, who seemed to be
playing the _pied de boeuf_, seized each other's hand and pressed it
with a vigor which surprised them both.
The first rays of dawn surprised the travellers in this situation.
Auguste laughed heartily, the salesman testily withdrew his hand and the
young woman her knee; but she glanced furtively at Auguste, and he
promised himself compensation for the blunders of the night.
In the morning they arrived at Auxerre; again the young woman remained
in the diligence. Toward evening they halted at Avallon, where they were
to dine. The young woman alighted, but she did not enter the inn; having
purchased a loaf of bread and some other things, she sat down a short
distance from the inn. Auguste, who had followed her with his eyes,
allowed Bertrand to go in alone, saying that he was not hungry as yet,
and joined his fair fellow-traveller, with whom he entered into
conversation.
"Are you leaving Paris, madame?"
"Yes, monsieur"--with a sigh.
"Have you lived there long?"
"I was born there, monsieur."
"And you are turning your back on your native place?"
"I have no choice, monsieur"--with another sigh.
"Are you going to live in Lyon, madame?"
"I don't know, monsieur."
"Ah! you have no settled plan?"
"I am so unfortunate, monsieur!"
"You arouse my profound interest, madame; but we can talk more
comfortably elsewhere than on this road. If you will take my arm,
madame, we might take a walk about the place until it is time to start."
"With pleasure, monsieur."
The lady took Auguste's arm, and they walked away from the inn, talking.