established himself there with Cédrille. The latter tried to look about;
but the crowd, the noise, the heat, and the fumes of wine that filled
the room, added to his intoxication instead of sobering him.
"Poussinet! Poussinet!" cried the chevalier, hammering the table with
his sword hilt; "come here, knave! are you deaf to-night?"
The waiter approached, making a grimace, and stared at Cédrille as if he
were a strange beast.
"Come, Poussinet, listen carefully to my orders. You will serve us an
omelet of fifteen eggs, with half of a small ham inside; also, a large
jug of your best, and some fresh bread if possible."
"Fifteen eggs! an omelet of fifteen eggs for you two! Do you expect more
friends?"
"That doesn't concern you! do what you are told, and don't keep your
great, stupid eyes fastened on my companion; that isn't polite, and I
don't ever allow anyone to insult the persons who are in my company! Do
you hear, clown?"
As he spoke, the chevalier seized the waiter by one ear and twisted it
so hard in his fingers that the unlucky Poussinet was beginning to
shriek with pain, when a gray-bearded man in jacket and apron came up
and said to the chevalier, in a decidedly unamiable tone:
"What are you pulling my waiter's ears for? What has he done to you,
Monsieur Passedix? Must you always make trouble here as soon as you
arrive? I am tired of it, I warn you! Although you fight with everybody,
I warn you that you don't frighten me; and when the day comes that I
make up my mind to turn you out of my place, you will never come into it
again; and your sword will stay here in pawn for all that you owe me!"
"Let's go away," said Cédrille, trying to rise; "I am not having any fun
here!"
But Passedix forced Cédrille to remain on his stool; and having
reflected that if he should beat the keeper of the wine shop he would
have no supper, he restrained his wrath and tried to smile as he
replied:
"La, la! old sea-wolf [_loup de mer_]--for you well deserve the name
written on your sign!--here's a lot of pother because I hardly pinched
the tip of an ear. I do not seek a quarrel with anyone who is courteous
to me. If you have in your place louts who tread on my toes, I am never
in a mood to put up with it. If I owe you money, that proves that you
have given me credit."
"And I am very sorry that I ever gave you credit; but after this,
nothing will be served you here unless you pay cash. As to that matter,
I have given Poussinet my orders, and it will do you no good to pull his
ears! Nothing without the money--those are his orders."
"Yes," muttered the waiter, "and he beats me; that's all the _pourboire_
I get from him!"
Passedix rose and made a motion with his arm as if to strike Poussinet;
but the wine shop keeper caught his arm in mid-air and shouted, with a
horrible oath:
"So we are going to begin again, eh?"
"I want to go away; I don't enjoy myself here!" said Cédrille, half
rising; but the chevalier threw him back on his seat, and continued in a
haughty and dignified tone:
"Cabaretier, you may serve us in all confidence this evening; it is not
I who treat, but my friend, this excellent Béarnais here; and his
pockets are well filled."
"That makes a difference!" murmured the host; and he walked away with
his waiter, saying to him: "No matter, you will make them pay when you
serve; if they don't, take the dishes away."
"Yes, and look out for my ears!--Ah! what a lousy customer that lanky,
hamstringing villain of a Gascon is!"
XIV
A GAME WITH DICE
Cédrille sat as if glued to his seat, from which he dared not stir since
his friend had forced him back into it so unceremoniously; but he cut a
singular figure as he rolled his eyes around the room, staring at all
the people about him; and he had not the slightest appearance of a
person who had come there for amusement.
As for the Chevalier Passedix, his eyes seemed to be trying to discover
the contents of the Béarnais's pockets; and, as he caressed his chin, he
reflected thus:
"I said that his pockets were well filled, but I know nothing about it;
he didn't whisper a word when I said it Sandis! if it should turn out
that he hasn't a sou about him--that old pirate of a cabaretier would
take back his omelet. But I feel that Dame Cadichard's two little eggs
are at the bottom of Roland's sheath. I dare not question this stout
little Béarnais. But, come what may, I don't propose to go away from
here without filling my belly. The proverb well says: 'Without Bacchus
and Ceres, Venus congeals!'--Now, then, as I do not choose that my love
shall congeal, I absolutely must do a little work with my jaws!"
Thereupon, turning to the other persons seated at the table at which he
had taken his place, tall Passedix observed that they were bourgeois,
very well dressed and having all the appearance of shopkeepers from the
vicinity come thither for recreation. In front of them were goblets and
a generous measure of wine; also dice and diceboxes.
"These fellows are probably playing for their reckoning!" thought the
Gascon. "An idea! suppose I should suggest a game to the little fellow,
especially as he seems inclined to go to sleep.--Holà! I say, worthy
Cédrille!"
"What is it?" cried the peasant, staring in order to see better.
"Suppose we have a game of dice, like our neighbors.--You gentlemen are
playing _quinze_, I think?"
One of the players looked up at the lean chevalier, and contented
himself with an assenting nod.
"Good! what do you say to a game of _quinze_, friend Cédrille? I'll play
you for a rose crown. There's a pleasant suggestion for you?"
"No, thanks! I have never played; I don't know any game. At our house,
my mother used to say very often: 'Don't let anybody induce you to
gamble, my son, it's too dangerous a sport; it becomes a vice and it may
lead to crime!'"
"Ta ta ta! that speech smells strongly of the barn! If gambling is
dangerous in your province, it isn't so in Paris; and the proof is that
everybody gambles, from the lowest to the highest. The greatest nobles
set us the example; they wouldn't be gentlemen if they didn't gamble."
"Oh! I don't claim to be a gentleman, myself!"
"Sandis! that's lucky!" said Passedix to himself. "What a blockhead this
young Béarnais is; he doesn't gamble and he won't eat; he doesn't know
how to carry his wine! If only he has money!--but I must make sure of
that before they bring us that famous omelet."--And, addressing his
young companion once more, Passedix said: "Can it be that we are
miserly, by any chance, my young shepherd? Fie! fie! that would be a
wretched failing, and one that is much ridiculed in Paris, where every
man of heart, if he wants to enjoy himself, should pay, without
reckoning, every bill presented to him."
"I, miserly!" rejoined Cédrille, with a smile; "oh! I am not afraid of
anyone charging me with that; I have never had anything of my own!
Whenever my fob is full, what there is in it is at my friends' service!"
"Bravo! very good! shake! I am just like that, myself!--Well, then, my
good Cédrille, as you don't know the game of dice, and as I am
absolutely determined to lose a rose crown to you, we will play for it
at _wet finger_. I trust that you know that game, at least!"
"At wet finger!" muttered Cédrille, putting his hands to his pockets.
"Oh! I know that game, yes. But, by the way, I just remember that I
can't play to-night, unless I play on credit----"
"On credit! What does that mean?"
"It means that the servants at the Hôtel de Mongarcin--all those
splendid fellows in handsome livery, who treated me so handsomely at the
offices----"
"Well! what then? Let us have it, mordioux!"
"Well! when I left them, saying that I was going to walk round the city
a bit, they said: 'Have you got any money about you?'--I said _yes_, and
took a good fat purse out of my pocket.--Oh! I didn't start out on my
travels without the means of travelling.--'Well,' they said, 'leave your
purse here; don't take it with you, or it will be stolen; and it won't
do you any good to be on your guard, for you won't see anything; Paris
is full of vagabonds, cloak snatchers, cutpurses, who strip you without
your knowing how it's done. You don't need your purse to walk about the
city; so, leave it here, where it will be safe, the maître d'hôtel will
be responsible for it; and then you can stroll all over Paris and snap
your fingers at the robbers.'--Faith! I followed their advice and left
my purse in their hands; and I haven't a sou about me!"
It would be difficult to describe the expression of his valiant
companion's face while Cédrille was speaking. Chevalier Passedix,
ordinarily yellow, became green one moment, then violet, then
ash-colored; his features seemed to lengthen, his cheeks to sink in more
than usual; his eyes flashed fire, and he muttered, clenching his fists:
"This passes all bounds! He hasn't a sou, and he wants to enjoy himself
in Paris! What an ignorant fool!--Ah! if you were not your cousin's
cousin! what pleasure it would give me to thrash you, knave! to teach
you to hang on my arm when your pockets are empty!--But the omelet will
soon be here, and they will take it away again! That will be an outrage!
Vertuchoux! at embarrassing moments one must be bold; fortune favors the
brave!--another proverb. Let us stake all to win all!"
And Passedix, turning to his neighbors the dice throwers, suddenly
exclaimed:
"Twelve! that's a good throw, but, damn the odds! I will stake six
livres _tournois_ against monsieur!"
The bourgeois who had just thrown the dice stared at the chevalier and
rejoined:
"You don't know the game; we have three dice, and the one who throws
nearest to fifteen wins; I have thrown twelve; I have a great many
chances in my favor, for anything above fifteen loses."
"I know the game as well as the man who invented it; that doesn't
prevent my saying that I will stake six livres _tournois_ against you."
"Very good! I take your bet."
"All right! agreed!--Now, it's your turn, monsieur, on whom I am
betting."
The other gambler, after casting a surprised glance at the Gascon, took
the dicebox and shook it, saying:
"Ah! you bet on me, do you, seigneur chevalier? Faith! I hope with all
my heart that I may win for you."
Cédrille turned toward his neighbors, curious to see the result of the
wager.
As for Passedix, he had risen, his long body towered above the table,
but his eyes never swerved from the box in which the dice were; and his
anxious expression, the way in which he twisted the ends of his cloak in
his hands, and the trembling of his whole person, all tended to show how
important it was to him that he should win the stake.
At last the bourgeois threw the three dice on the table, and the sum of
the points was only eleven.
"Faith! that was rather near!" said the man who had thrown; "but it is
not enough--I have lost!"
"And you too, chevalier!" exclaimed the other; "come, hand over your
rose crown--it was your own suggestion."
Passedix, whose face had assumed a threatening aspect when he saw the
result of the throw, slowly caressed his moustache and replied, dwelling
on each word:
"I have lost? that may be!--It was monsieur's fault for throwing badly."
"What's that? I threw badly?"
"Why, yes, to be sure; you shouldn't spend two hours shaking the dice in
the box--it tires them, and they can only turn up small numbers!"
"Ah! that's a pretty good one! I play as I please. Why did you bet on
me? who forced you to?"
"Oh! God bless me! enough of this! I have lost--that is all right; but I
demand my revenge; I should say that that is one of the things no
gentleman refuses."
"Your revenge--very good! I agree!"
"That is lucky for you! Sandis!"
"Here, throw the dice yourself!" said the man who had lost, offering the
Gascon the box; "then you cannot say that I play badly."
"With pleasure, I prefer it so!" cried the chevalier, seizing the
dicebox and resuming his seat.
Thereupon he rattled the dice in the box in his turn, and, having raised
his hand above his head, threw them on the table; the throw was
fourteen.
A joyful cry escaped from Passedix's lips and he looked about with a
triumphant air, saying:
"That is what I call throwing! that is how we throw dice at court!
Fourteen! what do you say to that, _compère_?"
"That's a good throw," replied his adversary; "but I may equal it."
And having picked up the three dice and put them in his box, he played,
and threw only five.
Passedix was radiant; his face lighted up, and he began to laugh
uproariously, opening his enormous mouth and showing his sharp fangs.
"I have lost," said the shopkeeper; "well, we are just where we
started.--I think it's time to go home, _compère_."
But at that moment the odor of cooked eggs reached their nostrils.
Poussinet appeared, carrying in both hands a pewter platter upon which
was the enormous omelet; under one arm he had a jug of wine, and under
the other a round loaf.
The waiter gazed admiringly at the omelet, but he walked with slow and
measured steps, like a person who expects a catastrophe, or one who is
marching to the sacrifice.
The odor of the dish so eagerly coveted dilated the chevalier's
nostrils; he seized the shopkeeper by his doublet as he was about to
leave the table, and said:
"Well! are we to stop at that? Don't you know that among gentlemen, when
each wins a game, the rubber is always played?"
"The rubber! the rubber! But it is late, and I ought to be at home."
"You will be there a few minutes late! What a misfortune! But we cannot
afford to play like children, with no result; everyone would laugh at
us! Come! it will take but a minute!"
And Passedix retained his hold on the tradesman's doublet, which he was
very careful not to release, for Poussinet had already said twice:
"Here's the omelet _au lard_, the wine, and the bread--total, two livres
eight sous six deniers, which you must pay me now, or I shall take it
all away."
"'Tis well! 'tis well! Sandis! Wait a moment, Poussinet; as you see, I
am just finishing a game with monsieur. Let us finish!"
Tired of being detained by his doublet, the shopkeeper decided to resume
his seat.
"Well, monsieur," he exclaimed; "since I absolutely must do it to
satisfy you, let us play this rubber, which, however, I should be
justified in refusing, for, after all, I do not know you! You
interfered in the game of dice I was playing with my friend, not with
you."
"Par la mordioux! are you afraid of compromising yourself by playing
with me, my friend? You do not know me, evidently! Very well! learn that
I am Chevalier Castor Pyrrhus de Passedix, the favorite of Monseigneur
le Cardinal de Richelieu, and an officer in the queen's
_Mousquetaires_!--Say--are you satisfied now?--In a moment,
Poussinet--don't go. Let us settle this business, and don't put your
nose so near the omelet!"
The two tradesmen had glanced at each other with a sneering expression
while the Gascon chevalier enumerated his name and offices, and they
whispered to each other:
"The cardinal's favorite, forsooth! Just look at his doublet; there's a
hole in the elbow, and his ruff is all ragged!"
"He is some schemer, some scurvy knave! Shall I play with him?"
"Yes; it would be a good job to win his rose crown."
"But, if he loses, by Notre-Dame! he will have to pay! I will not be put
off with his bluster!"
"Well! what about that rubber! Capédébious! shall we finish to-night?"
cried Passedix, assuming a surly air and bringing his fist down on the
table.
"I am ready, monsieur le favori du cardinal. But you will not ask me for
your revenge again. I declare now that I will not throw after this."
"All right! that is understood. Who the devil asks you to?"
"There are the dice, monsieur; will you begin?"
"I have no objection."
Passedix put the three dice in the box that he held; this time, despite
his efforts, one could see that his hand trembled and that he did not
raise the box with the same confidence. However, the dice were thrown,
and again the sum was fourteen.
Passedix jumped for joy, so that he nearly overturned the table; he
breathed like a man who had been stifling for five minutes, then burst
out in a roar of laughter that extinguished one of the lamps. His
demonstration ended with the words:
"I think that you have lost, my boy! You will pay for our supper."
"But I believe that I am entitled to take my throw first."
"Oh! that is true; take your throw, it's your right; but if I were in
your place, I would give it up and pay at once."
"No, indeed! Fortune is like the sun; it shines for everybody!"
"There's a proverb that I never heard! I believe it to be absolutely
false!"
However, the chevalier's adversary calmly took up the dice, shook them
with the air of a man to whom it matters little whether he loses a rose
crown, but who is amused by the impatience of his opponent.
"Sandis! have you nearly finished shaking your dicebox?" said Passedix;
"you trifle too much."
The shopkeeper threw--fifteen! It was his turn to laugh, which he did
with a good heart, in company with his friend, who cried:
"Pardieu! there's a throw that's worth all of yours, monsieur le
cardinal's friend!"
But Passedix did not seem to hear these words; he was so thunderstruck
when he counted his opponent's points, that he stood like one turned to
stone, with his eyes fixed on the six, the five, and the four.
"Come, monsieur le chevalier, give me the rose crown you were so anxious
to lose. Quickly, if you please! I ought to have gone long ago!"
"I, pay you!" cried Passedix, drawing himself up to his full height, and
with the back of his hand giving a tilt over one ear to the sort of cap
he wore; "pay you! No, indeed! for the throw was not fair; it doesn't
count!"
"Doesn't count! that throw of mine! I suppose that you say that in jest,
_beau sire_, but I don't like that sort of pleasantry, I warn you. Pay
me quickly, and let us have done with it!"
"Once more I tell you, I will not pay! The throw was bad. You threw the
dice with your left hand. I don't play with a left-handed----"
"Chevalier, you are trying to find a pretext for not paying. In the
first place, I did not throw with my left hand; and in the second
place, if I did, the throw would be perfectly fair."
"No; in that case, you are bound to notify your opponent."
"I did not play with my left hand!"
"Then I lie, do I?"
"Yes; and you are nothing but a blackleg!"
"Ah! by Roland! you shall pay dearly for that insult--you vile
clodhopper!"
"Meanwhile, you are going to get what you deserve, you long-legged
sharper who wanted to sup at our expense!"
As he spoke, that one of the tradesmen who had played with the Gascon
put out his arm and rushed forward to strike him with his fist. But his
opponent had anticipated the blow and jumped back quickly. As ill luck
would have it, Cédrille had risen when he saw that the quarrel had
become serious, and muttering: "I want to go away; I am not enjoying
myself at all here!" received full in the face the blow intended for his
friend. He uttered a cry of pain. Instantly Passedix whipped out his
sword, and Roland's blade was directed at the shopkeeper, who had seized
the pewter pot with which to defend himself.
But a new personage had entered the café and forced his way through the
crowd that already surrounded the combatants.
XV
A BOHEMIAN
The man who had entered the wine shop wore a long cloak of dark-colored
cloth, which reached almost to his feet and was caught in at the waist
by a striped red and black belt adorned with a fringe. On his head was a
sort of pointed cap trimmed with fur. Cloak and cap alike were soiled
and in wretched condition.
This was the type of costume worn at that period by those persons who
undertook to draw horoscopes, and who were commonly called Bohemians.
They were very different from the Bohemians of our day, who dress well
and have not a sou, for they wore shabby clothes and often had gold
hidden in the pockets or the lining of their shabby garments.
Gray hair and an almost snow-white beard indicated a man of advanced
years. However, he seemed to be robust still, for he easily put aside
the bystanders and forced a passage for himself through the crowd.
Reaching the Gascon's side, he seized the arm that held Roland; and his
pressure must have been very powerful, for the chevalier made a horrible
grimace and slowly lowered his sword, crying:
"Zounds! what an iron grip!"
"What does this mean?" cried the Bohemian, in a cracked but piercing
voice. "Do people draw their swords in a wine shop? Fie! seigneur
chevalier, this is not a battlefield worthy of you! accustomed as you
are to conquer in single combat and to excel in jousting!--And you,
Master Bougard, you are out very late; the curfew rang long ago; your
shopboys pay little heed to it when their master is not there. And God
knows whether your shop is not at the mercy of cutpurses and footpads
to-night!--As for you, neighbor Dupont, you have a pretty young wife,
and it seems to me that you do not watch her very closely. Beware!
gallants abound in your neighborhood; they know that you come to this
wine shop every night and stay late. That makes it very convenient for
them to go sparking your wife."
The two tradesmen listened to nothing more; they hurriedly pushed aside
those who stood in their way, and rushed from the shop, paying no
further heed to the Gascon and abandoning the idea of following up their
quarrel.
Meanwhile, Passedix, flattered by the words that the Bohemian had
addressed to him, replaced Roland in his sheath, saying:
"After all, this old man is right. And then, those two clowns are not
foemen worthy of my wrath. But still----"
And the Gascon glanced languishingly at the superb omelet, which
Poussinet was preparing to carry away, when the Bohemian stopped him
and said, putting a piece of money in his hand:
"Do not carry that away; put the supper on the table--before these two
gallant fellows, who will permit me to entertain them and to sup with
them. Fetch also a piece of your best cheese and another full pint of
your oldest wine, so that we may drink longer."
The waiter, being paid, made haste to execute the orders he had
received. Meanwhile, Passedix, who could hardly believe his ears, gazed
at the Bohemian as the Incas gazed at the sun, then opened his long arms
and threw himself into those of the man with the gray beard, crying:
"By the shades of my ancestors! you are a noble old man! I do not know
you; but it would seem that you know me; for your behavior toward me is
that of an old friend!"
"Oh! who has not heard of the valiant Chevalier Passedix, godson of the
worthy Chaudoreille!--of his exploits, of his prowess, and of his
triumphs with the ladies! I am only a poor Bohemian, but, by virtue of
my profession, I know very well what is happening in Paris. So do not be
surprised, seigneur chevalier, that I am so well informed with respect
to your affairs."
"Capédébious! this old man talks better than our ediles!--Don't you
think so, friend Cédrille, eh? Why do you refuse to speak, and keep your
hand over your left eye?"
Cédrille took his hand from his face and showed his left eye, which had
received the full force of the shopkeeper's blow, and which was
surrounded by a black and blue circle and weeping profusely.
"Bigre! what is all this, my boy? Did you fall on something unhealthy?"
"Yes, I fell on the fisticuff that was intended for you; and it was well
directed, as you see; that miserable man didn't strike with a light
hand!"
"Ah! poor fellow! can it be? I am sorry now that I didn't run that clown
through!"
"Come, come! to table, and let us forget about all that!" said the
Bohemian, seating himself and filling the glasses. "After all is said,
life is always a mixture of battles and pleasures, of strife and
feasting; we must forget the former and make the most of the latter."
"Yes, that is so; to table! the old Bohemian talks like Nostradamus,
from whom he is probably descended."
"Not in a direct line, but that makes no difference; I try to walk in
his footsteps by reading the future as best I may. Let us drink,
messeigneurs, and let us attack this omelet."
"Ah, yes! let us attack the omelet and give it no quarter."
Passedix took his place in front of the supper, the Bohemian being
opposite; Cédrille was still standing, and seemed undecided as to what
he should do.
"Well, young man, is my company not agreeable to you, that you do not
take a seat with us?" said the old man, glancing at the Béarnais
peasant.