TWO PLACES, S. V. P.
In five minutes all the population of Saint Ame was on the Square, for
in these Lorraine villages amusements are rare. They were watching the
erection of an enormous shed covered with canvas and strange pictures.
An enormous handbill with letters that could be read a hundred feet off,
bore most astonishing inscriptions. At the top was Iron Jaws, who held
enormous weights with his teeth. The Giantess, who ate raw pigeons, or
any other fowl that was most convenient. The wonderful Almanzor (that
was Robeccal,) a descendant of the Moors of Spain, crushed glass with
his teeth and swallowed swords. Then there was Caillette, the
rope-dancer, who charmed the world with her voice, as well as with her
aerial lightness. And lastly, in letters of the same length as those
which Gudel used for himself, came Fanfar's name.
"FANFAR! FANFAR! FANFAR!
"STRENGTH, SKILL, DEXTERITY.
"He knows everything. He can do everything!"
And finally, there was a representation of a human pyramid, at the top
of which was Caillette, all smiles, and a flower in her hand.
The good peasants were naturally delighted with all this.
Iron Jaws, with his hands in his pockets, was marching up and down,
giving his orders like a general at the head of an army. Suddenly he
called,
"Bobichel!"
Between two pictures, one of which was a lion devouring a crocodile,
appeared the clown's head, grinning from ear to ear. He was so utterly
grotesque that the crowd shrieked with laughter.
Bobichel's name did not appear on the handbill. It had been omitted to
leave more room for that of his friend Fanfar, and Gudel had called him
to introduce him, so to speak, to the crowd.
Fanfar and Caillette were alone. He was trying the ropes of the trapeze,
while she was giving some finishing touches to the interior decoration.
Suddenly, she stopped and looked up at Fanfar, who was swinging from a
wooden bar. An artist would have been struck with the beauty of his
figure.
Caillette watched him breathlessly as he went through his exercises, and
as he dropped at last on the floor, so lightly that his feet scarcely
left their imprint, she threw both arms around his neck.
"How bad you are!" she cried, "you frighten me half out of my wits."
"Frighten you, child! Are you not yet accustomed to my exercises, little
sister?"
Caillette colored, and half turned away.
"Why do you call me little sister?" she said.
Fanfar dropped her hands, which he had taken from his neck. A cloud
passed swiftly over his brow.
"Because we have been brought up together," he answered, slowly. "You
were not more than six years old when your father took me into his
service. But does it vex you for me to call you sister?"
"No, it does not vex me, but I would rather you did not."
Fanfar understood her, and was disturbed. He had long since seen in the
girl a growing passion for himself. Her innocence and purity were
exquisite, but at the same time she loved Fanfar. He did not love her.
He would have given his life for her, but he did not wish to spend it
with her, and at the thought of Caillette as his wife he drew back. He
now disengaged himself gently from her clinging arms.
"To work!" he said, "it is growing late."
Caillette took up her needle, as the door opened to admit Gudel. He was
not alone, two ladies of aristocratic bearing were with him.
"But, my dear Irene, this is a strange caprice," said the elder of the
two. "What will the Countess say?"
"My dear Madame Ursula, it would oblige me if you would cease your
moans, that is, unless you should prefer to return to the chateau
alone!"
The dear Madame Ursula was a tall, thin woman, wearing blue glasses. She
was evidently a companion or governess.
Irene, in her riding-habit, looked about twenty. Her hair was jet black,
and curled over a marble white brow. Her hat, Louis XIII. in shape, with
curling plumes, gave a haughty expression to her dainty features. She
looked as if she might have stepped from out the frame of one of the
pictures of Velasquez. Her beauty was striking. Fanfar grasped it,
Caillette studied it.
"Pray tell me," said the young lady to Gudel, "if you have no seats
where I can avoid contact with the crowd? I am ready to pay any sum you
ask."
"Oh! we have but one price, ten sous."
The governess uttered a small gasp, and the young girl shrugged her
shoulders impatiently.
She drew out a handful of gold pieces from her bag.
"Take these," she said, "and do the best you can for me."
Gudel was puzzled and troubled.
"Fanfar!" he called, "have you time to construct a sort of private box
for these ladies?"
Fanfar advanced, and when Caillette saw the admiring gaze he riveted on
the stranger, she clenched her little hands.
"I don't think I quite understand," he said.
Irene replied:
"It is a very simple matter. I desire to be present at your exhibition,
and I do not care to mingle with the vulgar herd."
Fanfar listened to these words very coldly, and then said:
"What you ask is impossible."
"I don't know about that," interposed Gudel, quickly. "I think a private
box could be quickly made with a few boards--"
"Only I refuse to make it," said Fanfar.
"You refuse?"
Irene started. Caillette smiled and blushed.
"And may I know why?" asked the stranger, with a disdainful smile. "Why
does----" She hesitated for the name. Fanfar supplied it. "Why does
Monsieur Fanfar refuse to gain a few louis for his master?"
"Not his master," said Gudel, hastily.
"Let me speak," interrupted Fanfar. "I will explain to the lady. Our
public are bourgeois and common folk who support us, and bring us
success. Their hands are large, but they applaud well. They are good
people, and I do not wish to humiliate them. To do what you ask would
wound them deeply."
Irene listened, with a frown.
Gudel retreated to the background where he indulged in a silent laugh.
Fanfar waited, calmly.
"This is a lesson you read me?" she said, at last.
"No, Mademoiselle, it is only advice. Make yourself beloved by these
peasants. I have much to do, and pray that you will excuse me."
He bowed, and was about to retire.
"Monsieur Fanfar," said Irene, "you are right, and I thank you."
Then, turning to Gudel, she asked him with bewitching grace to retain
two seats for her.
"Certainly, and the best. Will we not, Fanfar?"
The young man met Irene's eyes, and started.
"Will you give these few louis to the poor?" added Irene, "and I will
accept two seats gratefully."