went to a restaurant. Alfred and Edouard, who had concocted the scheme
beforehand, persuaded Robineau that it was good form to eat very little
and to send away most of the dishes ordered without touching them. So
Robineau sent away several dishes which he was very desirous to eat,
sacrificing his appetite to what he believed to be the acme of good
form.
In the evening they attended the Bouffes. Robineau, who listened to
music without appreciating it, dissembled as well as he could his
overpowering desire to yawn.
"Bravi! brava! bravissima!" he cried; then looked at his watch to see if
the play would soon be done. It came to an end at last; Alfred returned
home, Edouard to his lodgings, and Robineau reëntered the cab that
awaited him at the door, to take him to Rue Saint-Honoré.
Robineau stood in front of his abode, where he hoped not to sojourn
long; for the house seemed to him a wretched place, and the entrance
disgusting. However, he must needs sleep there once more. But before
entering, he ordered François, his new servant, to call for him early
the next morning with the cabriolet.
"Early to-morrow morning with the cabriolet!" cried a person who
happened to be in the passage just as Robineau entered. And he
recognized Fifine, whom he had not seen since the change in his
fortunes.
Fifine held in her hand a candle wrapped in a half sheet of brown paper,
and lighted; she had stopped and was waiting for Robineau, who did not
quicken his pace.
"Hallo! is it you, my dear friend?"
"Yes, to be sure it’s I."
"What has become of you since the day before yesterday, that I haven’t
laid eyes on you, monsieur? And all this style? this cabriolet? Have
you made yourself a duke and peer while riding?"
"Let us go upstairs, Fifine; I can’t endure to talk in the hall--it’s
very bad form!"
"Oh! mon Dieu! His Highness is afraid of compromising himself! Ha! ha!
ha! Pardon me, Your Excellency; if I had known at what hour you would
return, I would have cut my candle in four pieces to illuminate the
staircase."
Robineau went upstairs, and entered his room, followed by the young
milliner, who still held her candle in her hand. Robineau threw himself
carelessly on a chair, and Fifine held her light to his face, saying:
"I say--what is the meaning of this coat? I didn’t know that you had any
coat except the one that used to be black, and the threadbare gray."
"Well! now you know that I have another--that’s all."
"And this gold chain! these watch charms!--Ah! something must have
happened."
"Yes, Fifine, there has been a very great change in my circumstances
since the day before yesterday."
"Really! Have they given you a bonus of a hundred crowns?"
"A hundred crowns! Mon Dieu! a mere trifle!" said Robineau with a smile
of contempt.
"What’s that? a trifle! Do me the favor to give me a dozen trifles like
that, and I’ll go up in a balloon to-morrow morning."
"Fifine, listen to me attentively."
"Wait till I sit down, for what you are going to tell me may produce a
deep impression on me."
Fifine put her candle in a candle-stick, and seated herself in front of
Robineau, who tried to assume an important air before he began.
"Mademoiselle, I----"
"What! _mademoiselle?_ are you talking to me?"
"Certainly."
"And you call me mademoiselle!--Try first to be a little more decent
than that! What a fool you make of yourself with your _demoiselle_!"
"Well, then, Fifine--I must tell you that you no longer see before you
the young man whose salary of fifteen hundred francs composed his whole
fortune; the hopes that I have mentioned to you more than once are
realized. I knew that my uncle would end by enriching me. Dear Uncle
Gratien! he is dead and has left me twenty-five thousand francs a year."
"The deuce! really? isn’t it a joke?"
"No, Fifine, nothing can be truer. I am immensely rich and I shall soon
have a château, because I am determined to have one."
"What! you are rich, and you didn’t tell me right away! you keep me on
the anxious seat two hours!--Well, well! won’t we have some fun! Let’s
dance and jump and raise a rumpus!--You are rich, and you sit there like
a mummy!"
And Fifine seized Robineau’s arm and compelled him to dance around the
room with her; but he shook himself free at last and resumed his seat,
while Fifine continued to dance and jump over the chairs and the
furniture.
"Assuredly, Fifine," said Robineau, sitting very erect, "I desire that
you should enjoy yourself; indeed I shall be delighted to be of service
to you when the opportunity presents itself, and you may rely on my
interest; but as to your continuing to be my mistress, you must see that
it is impossible, and that my social position will not permit me to see
you as--as before."
Fifine, who was standing on the commode at that moment, in the attitude
of Psyche, landed at Robineau’s side with one leap, crying:
"What’s that you’re mumbling?--your social position--you don’t propose
to see me as before?--Do me the favor to explain yourself a little
better."
"It seems to me to be clear enough, my dear Fifine. I still have the
utmost regard for you; indeed I propose to prove it to you to-morrow by
making you a present of a beautiful shawl of unspun silk--whatever color
you choose--I don’t care. But I say that I can no longer be your lover,
nor go out with you, because my present circumstances and my new
position in society forbid."
Fifine, who had listened attentively, did not move for some seconds;
then she went to the mantel, took her candle from the candlestick, and,
before leaving the room, took her stand in front of its tenant, who
still sat in his chair.
"I thought that you were only a stupid fool, but I see that you are an
ingrate!" she said, smiling bitterly. "You don’t propose to see me,
because a fortune has fallen into your hands. That is very noble! It is
a resolution worthy of you! As for the present you mean to give me, keep
it for the women who will sponge on you and make fun of you all the
time--you’ll find that you’ll never have too much for them."
"Mademoiselle," said Robineau, rising angrily, "what you say is very
indecorous. However, that doesn’t surprise me, from one who has such bad
manners as you."
"Hold your tongue, you miserable counterfeit!" said Fifine, turning
suddenly on Robineau, who intrenched himself behind an armchair; "you
deserve to be made to swallow this candle all lighted!"
"Mademoiselle Fifine!"
"Hold your tongue! you make me sick!--Go with your duchesses and your
princesses; keep ballet-dancers and miladies; but when you are drunk,
wait for them to give you tea and dose you, and you’ll be likely to die
of indigestion!"
With that, Fifine made a low curtsy to her former lover, and went out of
the room, leaving him in utter darkness.
"What a spitfire!" cried Robineau when she had gone;" she didn’t even
light my candle!--Oh! these women! That a man with twenty-five thousand
francs a year should have to use a flint and steel!--Faith, I won’t do
it; I prefer to go to bed without a light.--Think of that Fifine
presuming to--But that’s how it always is! the more you do for women,
the more they abuse it.--But it won’t be so any longer with me; I
propose to set a terribly high figure on my favors; and to make a
conquest of me will require something more than a turned-up nose."
Robineau went to bed, and, forgetting Fifine, fell asleep and dreamed of
his future château.
V
PURCHASE OF A CHÂTEAU.--DEPARTURE FOR AUVERGNE
Robineau did not sleep very long, for when a man’s mind is running on a
château, lands, titles, a carriage and servants, it must necessarily
cause him some excitement. There are insomnias more pleasant than those
caused by ambition and a longing for grandeur; it is sweet in the
silence of the night to think of the person we love, to be in thought,
in memory, in hopes, with her from whom we are separated. At such times
we yield without question to the fondest illusions, we fashion our own
dreams, and we dread to sleep, because sleep does not always present to
us the images that are most dear to our hearts. But Robineau, who had no
such thoughts as these, weary of tossing and turning in his bed, and of
looking for a château, first on the right ear and then on the left, rose
early and began to dress, saying to himself:
"My cabriolet and my servant may be waiting for me already at the door;
I have too much to do to waste my time in bed."
Having dressed, he left his room on tiptoe, because he was not at all
desirous to be overheard by Fifine, who was also a very early riser; but
he met no one in the hall, and arrived safely in the street, where he
looked in vain for his cabriolet.
"The devil! not here yet!" he muttered, looking at his watch. "Ah! it’s
only six o’clock; but no matter: if I choose to go to drive at six
o’clock, I am at perfect liberty to do it."
He went back into the passage, uncertain whether he should sally forth
on foot or wait for his carriage; but, hearing a noise on the stairs,
and fearing that it might be Fifine, he decided to go out.
Robineau bent his steps toward his notary’s, but when he reached the
house the concierge was just rising.
"I am going to the office!" he called out as he hurried across the
courtyard.
"There’s nobody there," the concierge replied. And so it proved;
Robineau found the office door locked and went back to the concierge.
"What does this mean? Haven’t the clerks arrived yet?"
"Why, it’s too early, monsieur; the clerks never come to the office at
six in the morning."
"Is monsieur le notaire at home?"
"He certainly hasn’t gone out yet. I suppose he’s asleep with his wife."
"Asleep! nonsense! Why, it’s two hours since I woke up. I am going up to
his apartment."
"But, monsieur, nobody goes up so early as this."
"When a man proposes to buy a château, he should be at liberty to call
whenever he pleases."
The concierge, thinking that Robineau’s business must be of great
importance, allowed him to go upstairs, and he jangled the bell at the
door of the notary’s apartment.
In a few minutes a maid opened the door with a terrified air, saying:
"Mon Dieu! whatever has happened?"
"It’s I, my dear child," replied Robineau; "I want to speak with your
master."
"What for, monsieur?" inquired the servant, still thinking that some
event of great importance must have happened.
"What for? Parbleu! about the château, the estate I instructed him to
find for me."
The maid became calmer and stared at Robineau as she replied:
"Monsieur is still asleep; he isn’t in the habit of attending to
business so early."
"Go tell him, my dear, that it’s his client Jules-Raoul Robineau, who
has just inherited twenty-five thousand francs a year from his uncle
Gratien; that will wake him up at once."
"Oh! I don’t think so, monsieur. Besides, monsieur and madame haven’t
been married very long, and I don’t know whether I can go into their
room like this."
"Do you want me to go?"
"Oh, no! wait a moment, monsieur, while I go and see."
The servant decided to deliver the message entrusted to her, and
Robineau meanwhile paced the floor of an enormous dining-room.
"When the notary knows that it’s I," he thought, "I am sure that he’ll
get up immediately."
But the maid soon returned and said with a mocking air:
"Monsieur swore because I woke him, and sent me about my business; he
says you must come again."
"Did you give him my name?"
"Yes, monsieur, but that didn’t do any good."
"Ah! that didn’t do any good? Very well, I will call again."
And Robineau went away in a very ill humor, saying to himself:
"If that man had paid over all my money, I would change notaries
instantly. Let’s go to Alfred’s."
He arrived at the hôtel De Marcey before seven o’clock and found the
servants walking about the courtyard. Alfred’s valet stopped Robineau,
saying:
"My master is asleep, monsieur."
"Bah! that doesn’t matter; he won’t be sorry to see me, he expects me,"
was the reply; and Robineau went upstairs, walked through various rooms
and arrived at last in Alfred’s bedroom, where he found his friend fast
asleep. He shook him violently, crying:
"Well, my friend! aren’t we ever going to get up? Come, come,
lazybones!"
Alfred opened his eyes, looked up at Robineau, and exclaimed:
"Hallo! is it you? What in the devil do you want of me?"
"I have come to talk business with you. If I am not mistaken, you told
me yesterday that you had seen a very fine estate near Mantes,
which----"
"Eh! the devil take you and your estates! I was having the most
delicious dream; I was coasting with Madame de Gerville, and the sled
broke; but instead of being hurt, we were hugging each other so tight,
we fell so softly; and I felt the pressure of her body. I touched----"
"I beg your pardon for waking you, my friend," said Robineau, "but----"
"And I," said Alfred, "beg you to pardon me if I go to sleep again."
And he paid no further heed to Robineau, who cried:
"What, my friend! you are going to sleep again just on account of a
dream of coasting and such nonsense?"
Seeing that it was useless to speak to him, Robineau decided to take his
leave.
"Let’s go to Monsieur Edouard Beaumont’s," he said to himself. "A poet,
an author ought to rise early; genius should be up with the lark. At all
events, I’ll ask him to breakfast with me, and they say that authors are
very susceptible to such invitations."
So he betook himself to Edouard’s lodgings, where he had never been. He
knew the address, however, and succeeded in finding it. The young author
did not live at a hotel, nor did he occupy a first floor apartment; but
he had lodgings in a pleasant house in Rue d’Enghien. The concierge did
not stop Robineau, but merely said to him:
"Go up to the fourth floor."
"The fourth floor--that’s rather high," said Robineau to himself. "To be
sure, the staircase is very clean and very pleasant. But a poet--there’s
no law compelling them to be rich. And yet I have heard Alfred say that
Edouard was in comfortable circumstances, that he had about four
thousand francs a year. That used to seem a fortune to me."
On reaching the fourth floor Robineau rang once, twice; no answer. Not
discouraged, he rang a third time, and at last heard Edouard’s voice,
calling:
"Who’s there?"
"It’s I--Jules--you know. I have come to ask you to breakfast. Let me
in."
"Oh! I beg a thousand pardons, Monsieur Robineau, but I worked far into
the night, and I should like to sleep a little longer. Au revoir."
He walked away from the door, and Robineau stood on the landing for some
moments.
"What in the devil have all these people eaten," he said to himself,
"that they’re so anxious to sleep? it’s a most extraordinary thing!"
He went downstairs and looked at his watch; it was about half-past
seven, and it occurred to him that his cabriolet should be waiting for
him. So he returned to Rue Saint-Honoré and uttered a cry of joy when he
saw in the distance the carriage standing at his door. He quickened his
pace and discovered Fifine and the other young milliners standing in the
doorway of the shop. He marched proudly by them and jumped into the
cabriolet amid shouts of laughter from the young ladies, saying to
himself:
"They laugh at me! Very good! I will try to splash them."
He drove about for an hour through the streets of Paris, then returned
to his notary’s office. That gentleman, who was already tired of seeing
him four times a day, and who did not care to be roused from sleep by
him often, concluded that he had better find an estate for him in short
order, as the best way to be rid of him. And so, as soon as he saw him,
he said:
"I have what you want."
"Is it possible? An estate?"
"Better than that--a small château."
"A château?--You are a delightful man!"
"With towers, too, and battlements."
"Battlements!--Allow me to embrace you!"
"And moats--they are dry, to be sure."
"I will have them filled with water."
"Plenty of rooms, many guest chambers, stable for twenty horses."
"I will stable asses there."
"A park, a forest, and enormous gardens where you can lose yourself!"
"Lose myself--that is delicious!"
"Outlying land where you can hunt."
"I will do nothing else."
"A little stream abundantly supplied with fish."
"And I am very fond of _matelote_!"
"And the château is all furnished--in rather old-fashioned style, to be
sure; but you will find there all that you need for immediate occupancy,
except linen."
"My dear notary, this is enchanting. Furnished in antique style! Why, it
is all the more noble for that!"
"However, you will obtain with the deeds an exact inventory of
everything that the château contains."
"This is all very fine; I am simply afraid that this charming property
is too dear."
"Eighty thousand francs."
"Eighty thousand francs! that is a mere nothing. I will buy it."
"It is my duty to warn you that the property does not produce much
revenue; the appurtenant estates are not well kept up."
"I don’t care for that."
"There will be some repairs to be made on the buildings."
"I will do whatever is necessary."
"And then, it’s some distance from here."
"What difference does that make to me? I shan’t go there on foot. But
where is it?"
"In Auvergne, near Saint-Amand-Talende and Clermont--nearly ninety
leagues from Paris."
Robineau reflected for some moments.
"In Auvergne!" he said; "ninety leagues from Paris! The devil! I shan’t
be able to breakfast at the Café Anglais and return to my château at
night."
"But consider too, monsieur, that an estate near Paris soon becomes
ruinous by the number of visitors you receive; one person comes to pass
a week with you, another a fortnight; you are never free; you need a
large fortune to meet the expense that that occasions."
"That is true; and in Auvergne people won’t drive out to breakfast with
me.--I am not familiar with Auvergne; is it a pleasant country?"
"Oh! it’s a most interesting, most picturesque region, monsieur. The
little town of Saint-Amand and its neighborhood form one of the most
remarkable districts of the Limagne d’Auvergne. You will see mountains
in all directions and green fields. Nature abounds in accidents of rare
beauty."
"There are accidents, you say?"
"I am speaking as an artist; I mean that you will be surprised, on
emerging from a rugged mountain chain, to see before you vine-covered
hillsides, and valleys where the most luscious fruits and the most
nutritious vegetables grow in abundance."
"That’s what comes of not travelling! I imagined that there was nothing
to see in Auvergne but mountain-rats."
"The little village of Talende is supplied with water by one of the most
noteworthy and most abundant springs of living water known. Julius Cæsar
called Talende the bed of the gods!"
"In that case the people ought to sleep very comfortably."
"Lastly, Auvergne has given birth to more than one famous man: at
Aigueperse the Chancellor de l’Hôpital was born; Riom was the birthplace
of Anne Dubourg, Issoire of Cardinal Duprat; and the little hamlet of
Chanonat witnessed the birth of the amiable Delille, and has been
celebrated in song by that poet."
"This is all very fine; but what is the name of the château? I care a
great deal about the name."
"The estate is known as La Roche-Noire."
"La Roche-Noire! superb! And when it is mine, can I assume that name?"
"There is nothing to prevent."
"Monsieur de la Roche-Noire! Jules de la Roche-Noire!--Magnificent!--It
is settled, monsieur le notaire; I will buy the château."
"You might go to see the place before coming to a decision, and----"
"No! no! It would surely be sold to someone else meanwhile, and the name
of La Roche-Noire would escape me! It is decided, it’s a bargain, I will
buy the château.--When can I have my papers? When will you have the
deed ready? I am in a great hurry to take possession of my château!"
"I must write to my brother notary at Saint-Amand; and then the
deeds--oh! it will be a matter of a week at most."
"A week! dear me! that’s a long while!--But no matter; do whatever is
necessary, so that no one can dispute my title. By the way, if you are
writing to Auvergne, I should be glad to have the people at my château
know that I shall be there soon, and to have them prepare a little
reception for me. There are servants at La Roche-Noire, no doubt?"
"A concierge and a gardener at most."
"Very good; there’ll be no harm in letting them know that their new
master proposes to visit his château very soon; that will give them time
to prepare a little complimentary greeting, eh, monsieur le notaire?"
"To be sure, if they wish to offer you one."
"A new lord! Why, I should say that that was the regular thing."
"At the Opéra-Comique, yes."
"And even more in Auvergne, for those people must still retain the
patriarchal customs.--Well, I will leave you. Hasten my business, I beg
you; remember that my life, my happiness, all my hopes are already
centred on my château."
Robineau left the notary’s office, beside himself with joy; and inasmuch
as joy, like grief, longs to find a vent, he returned to Alfred, who was
no longer in bed, and to whom he shouted from the reception-room:
"It’s all settled! I am a landed proprietor, I own a château, the
Château de la Roche-Noire, nothing less,--with towers, battlements,
moats,--and cannon perhaps. Nothing is lacking! My dear De Marcey, I am
the happiest of men!"
Alfred smiled at the intense excitement produced in the parvenu by the
possession of a château; he bade him sit beside him, urged him to be
calm, and asked him where his estate was situated.
"In Auvergne," replied Robineau; "a magnificent country! the land of
mountains, of great men, of the most picturesque accidents--the bed of
the gods according to Julius Cæsar; and that fellow should have known
what he was talking about, for the Romans were great voluptuaries when
they chose to take the trouble."
"In that case how does it happen that the natives of such a beautiful
region come in crowds to Paris to mend kettles or carry water?"
"What does that prove? Haven’t men always loved to travel? The most
ancient peoples, the Jews, Chaldæans, the Phœnicians, set us the
example; and when a patriarch like Abraham journeys with his family, his
household and his flocks, from the Euphrates to Palestine, and then to
Egypt, it seems to me that an Auvergnat may well take the trouble to
travel to Paris."
"That is true; however, I don’t know Auvergne, but I have heard that it
is a very interesting country. Of course you will go down and inspect
the château before purchasing?"
"No, I shall purchase it at once and inspect it afterward; I propose to
make my entry as lord, as proprietor. The domain of La Roche-Noire! and
only eighty thousand francs! You must agree, my dear De Marcey, that
it’s a great find."
"More probably some old Gothic structure, in a ruinous, dilapidated
condition, where you will have to lay out a lot of money just in
repairs."
"I shall repair nothing; I love ruins myself! And a park! a forest!
hunting and fishing!"
"Do you hunt as well as you ride?"
"Oh! you wicked joker! Look you, I am sure that you have formed a very
false idea of my château."
"I assure you that I am very glad that you have one, because now you
will at least let me sleep in peace."
"Oh! my friend! my dear friend! I have a delightful idea!"
"To buy another château?"
"No, one is enough; I am not ambitious, you see. But you have just said
that you don’t know Auvergne; here’s a superb opportunity to become
acquainted with it. I take you with me to see my property; I compel you
to agree that I have made a fine purchase; and you give me some advice
as to establishing my household, you teach me to hunt. We will give
fêtes, which you will arrange and manage.--Well! what do you say to it?
don’t you like the scheme?"
"Faith! I should like well enough to go to Auvergne; but I remember that
I am to take a little trip this summer through Switzerland with Edouard;
our plans are all laid."
"Instead of going to Switzerland, you may as well come to Auvergne,
which is the Switzerland of France; you will see mountains and snow
there as well as in Switzerland, and we will take Edouard with us."
"The deuce! do you propose to take everybody?"
"No, but I should like to take Edouard, because he’s a poet, and a poet
is often useful, especially when a person means, as I do, to give
banquets, entertain ladies and be gallant."
"Ah! I understand; you want Edouard to go, in order to write occasional
verses?"