did I say about him?--In the first place, I do not know him personally;
I have never seen him except at a distance; I may have repeated what
everybody says: that he was in debt; that his father paid fifty thousand
livres for him lately! That is true, for Maître Bourdinard, my employer,
called the creditors together in his office, in order to obtain the best
conditions and the greatest possible abatement."
"That is not all; you added that Comte Léodgard certainly would not come
to our reception.--What made you think so, monsieur?"
Bahuchet smiled cunningly, scratched his forehead, and shifted from one
leg to the other like a canary; he seemed to hesitate before replying,
and looked now at the old lady, now at her niece, and again at Miretta.
"Well, monsieur, did you not hear my question?" added Mademoiselle de
Mongarcin impatiently, and in an imperious tone.
"I beg your pardon, mademoiselle, I heard you perfectly; but there are
some things which we young clerks of the Basoche say to one another, or
when talking with the common people, which we should not dare to say to
a young lady of noble birth."
"Since you have had a good education, monsieur, you should be able to
use suitable terms in which to state a fact, and to refrain from saying
anything that can offend my ears. So much the worse for you, if you
cannot find a way to express yourself becomingly."
Bahuchet's self-esteem was stung to the quick; Valentine had hit upon
the way to make him speak. He rested the hand in which he held his hat
on his hip, and, striking an attitude like an advocate, said:
"Mademoiselle, I am very well able to express myself, and to select my
words according to my audience. Thank heaven, I have fitted myself for
the profession! My parents were poor, but poverty is not a vice! I do
not know who it was that dared to say: 'It is something much worse!' but
I do not share his opinion. Ignorance is a vice, and so is stupidity!
Wealth does not always go hand in hand with merit! On the contrary, it
seems to take pleasure in sneering at it!--Homer, poor and blind,
wandered through the streets and public squares, reciting verses to
obtain a crust of bread. Plautus, that original, satirical comic poet,
turned the wheel of a mill for his livelihood. Agrippa died in the
hospital. And it is said that the illustrious author of _Don Quixote_,
Miguel Cervantes, died of want. Tasso was often reduced to the necessity
of borrowing a crown."
"Mon Dieu! will he never be done?" said Valentine, turning to Miretta;
"I am sure that my aunt has fallen asleep again."
The little clerk, observing that the beautiful young lady paid no
attention to him, decided to return to the subject upon which she had
questioned him.
"Pardon me, mademoiselle; I allow myself to be led astray by my
schoolboy reminiscences. I return to the question which you did me the
honor to ask me. I did say, it is true, that I believed Monsieur le
Comte Léodgard to be too much engrossed by new intrigues at this moment
to have time to come to your fête. My reason for saying that was that I
have a friend--that is to say, a confrère--or a friend, no matter
which!--one Plumard, who is bald already, at twenty-six! That is rather
early to be bald!--Now, Plumard lives on Rue Dauphine--a small room
under the eaves. And a few days ago we were leaning out of his window,
looking into the street, and I recognized the young Comte de Marvejols
walking back and forth and watching, out of the corner of his eye, the
house of a bath keeper, who it seems has a charming daughter, a model of
grace, beauty, and innocence. The parents never allow this enchanting
creature to go out; the mother especially watches her with the greatest
care. But Plumard said to me, laughingly: 'That young gentleman comes
prowling about the house every day--he even comes in the evening! and it
is probable that he comes late at night! He surely must have seen the
bath keeper's daughter, and it is on her account that he passes his time
in this quarter.'"
"A bath keeper's daughter!" exclaimed Valentine, with a disdainful air.
"Is it possible that the son of the Marquis de Marvejols forgets himself
to such a degree as to address his sighs to one so far beneath him!"
"But if the little one is a model of beauty, as they say," murmured the
undersized clerk, "that causes much to be overlooked!"
"You know a bath keeper's daughter, Miretta; you go to see her
sometimes, do you not? Can it be the same one?"
"No, mademoiselle; the one I know is very good-looking too, but she
lives on Rue Saint-Jacques; she lost her mother long ago."
"I know whom you mean!" cried Bahuchet; "you mean Ambroisine, whom they
call La Belle Baigneuse. Ah! she's a very handsome girl--tall and well
built! She is Master Hugonnet's daughter, whose baths are very
popular.--Oh! I know her; I know all Paris, I do! But she isn't the one
in question, for my friend Plumard--his name ought to be _Plumé_
[plucked], for before long he will not have three hairs on his scalp----
But, no matter; Plumard told me about the daughter of his neighbor, the
bath keeper on Rue Dauphine. His name is Landry; he is an old soldier,
who will not look on it as a joke if he learns that a gallant is making
love to his daughter, whatever the gallant's name and rank may be!"
"And--was it long ago, monsieur, that you had this conversation at your
friend's window on Rue Dauphine?"
"About six weeks, mademoiselle."
"Have you seen your friend again since? Has he told you anything more
concerning Monsieur Léodgard de Marvejols's love affairs?"
"I have seen Plumard very often since. We sometimes dine together at the
cook shop. A few days, or rather a few nights ago, I escorted my comrade
home; it was very late, almost midnight; we had been singing and playing
cards and drinking a long, long while, and Plumard, who is not over
brave, was afraid to go home alone. He was in dread of falling in with
Giovanni the robber--the famous Italian brigand whom our archers, our
arquebusiers, our watch, in fact, all our soldiery, have not succeeded
in catching. They are not shrewd. To secure that villain's arrest, I
shall have to take a hand in it. But I will show them how to catch him.
I know how they must go to work to do it, and----"
"You will have Giovanni arrested?" cried Miretta, whose face had turned
deathly pale.
"Well, well! what has happened to you, child?" said Valentine, almost
alarmed by her maid's abrupt exclamation. "Mon Dieu! how excited you
are!"
"I beg pardon, mademoiselle; excuse me; but monsieur said that he knew
how they could arrest this Italian--this Giovanni."
"How does that concern you? You do not seem to be afraid of him, for you
never go out except at night, and you come home quite late, so Béatrix
tells me."
"That is true, mademoiselle; but, for all that, I would like to
know----"
"But I wish to know what concerns Monsieur Léodgard. I am not at all
interested in this famous robber.--For heaven's sake, Monsieur Bahuchet,
go on. You were taking your friend Plumard home, to Rue Dauphine."
"Yes, mademoiselle; we were walking quietly along, arm in arm, talking
together, and he was assuring me that he had discovered three more hairs
on his head since the night before, and he attributed that capillary
recrudescence to some grease made from a man who had been hanged, which
an old woman had presented to him."
"Ah! monsieur, you abuse my patience!"
"A thousand pardons, mademoiselle! I continue.--About a hundred yards
from the bath keeper's house, Plumard stopped and squeezed my arm.
"'What is it?' I asked, without wincing. 'I am not afraid of anything; I
am as brave as a lion. What did you see, Plumard?'
"'What I saw,' he replied, 'was a man climbing into a window on the
first floor of yonder house.'
"And he pointed to Master Landry's house.
"'Let us hurry,' said I; 'we must make sure of the fact.'
"And I pulled Plumard along by the arm; but he did not go any more
quickly for that. When we drew near the window in question, at which
there is a balcony, we thought that we saw a rope, or a rope ladder,
which someone hastily drew up. When we were in front of the house, we
saw nothing.--Was it a lover? was it a thief?--I recalled Comte
Léodgard's watches in front of the bathing establishment, and I said to
Plumard:
"'This must be the sequel of what we saw from your window.'
"But Plumard, who sees thieves everywhere, did not agree with me; he
wanted to call the watch and the neighbors; but, happening to glance at
my feet, directly beneath the balcony, I saw something white on the
ground. I stooped, and picked up a beautiful white plume, like those
with which our young seigneurs adorn their hats. Then I remembered that
Comte Léodgard had one of them on his hat, and I said to my friend,
showing him the plume:
"'Look! here is something that our climber lost on the way. Thieves
don't wear such plumes as this on their nocturnal expeditions; so this
is some lovers' affair. Let us leave them in peace; go home to bed and
stop trembling.'
"Thereupon I left Plumard at his door and went home."
"And the plume that you found?"
"I carried it home with me, and I still have it; it's a very fine one!
too fine for me to wear it, with my modest clothes. But no one knows; if
I should have a handsome cloak and rich doublet some day, and a velvet
cap, why, the plume would go very well with all those things!"
Valentine seemed to reflect; she glanced at her aunt, who was sound
asleep, then continued, taking care to speak in a low tone:
"Is that all you know concerning Monsieur Léodgard?"
"No, indeed! Oh! I have not emptied my bag yet, as my employer says.
Mademoiselle must know that I have a relation who lives near Vincennes;
he is a simple farmer; he has a little cottage with a sizable piece of
land, where he grows vegetables and fruit, which he brings to Paris to
sell. Thomas's cottage--Thomas is my kinsman's name--is in a very lonely
spot, just this side of the village and château of Vincennes. Ah! how
frightened Plumard would be there! so when I suggest to him to go to
Thomas's with me, he always refuses; and yet, my relative has a very
nice little wine.--But to come to my story: when you leave our quarter
of the Cité, you have to cross Pont Saint-Louis, otherwise called the
Pont-aux-Choux. And that is a very dangerous place, especially at this
time, for it is the favorite resort of Giovanni, the robber whom I
mentioned just now. I am confident that he has his lair in the
neighborhood. About five days ago, no more, Thomas's ass was stolen on
the Pont-aux-Choux; he did not see the robber, therefore it was
Giovanni. Also, an old peasant woman of Vincennes was found murdered
within fifty yards of that infernal bridge; that too was done by that
damned brigand!"
"No, monsieur, no; that is not true!" cried Miretta. "Giovanni did not
murder that woman! it is impossible!"
"And why is it impossible, I pray to know, young lady's-maid?" demanded
Bahuchet, staring at the girl in amazement.
Miretta tried to dissemble her emotion as she replied:
"Why, because I have been assured--I have heard everybody say that
Giovanni never sheds blood, that no one had ever been injured by him!"
"Really, my pretty child! And why do they not also say that when he
pillages travellers, the brigand gives them sweetmeats and preserves to
make up to them for the money he steals? What an absurd idea--that a man
who attacks with arms in his hand does not use his arms when he is
resisted! But there are people who delight to tell such foolish tales,
and who pretend to know everything better than anybody else.--I would
just like to have a hundred men, well armed; I would lie in ambush under
the Pont-aux-Choux, and within a week I would have captured, hanged, or
shot the famous Giovanni!"
"Ah! so that is how you expect to capture him?" muttered Miretta in a
trembling voice, gazing at the little man with eyes that flashed fire.
"It seems to me to be very easy; when you know almost the spot where a
bird has its nest, you can find it. But I beg pardon, mademoiselle; I
see that you consider me too talkative.--I was saying that Thomas's
cottage is isolated; but within about three gunshots of it, toward
Paris, there is a very pretty place, a very elegant sort of pavilion,
which belongs now, I believe, to the Baron de Montrevert, but which
formerly belonged to Comte Léodgard, who lost it at cards. This pavilion
is what our seigneurs of the court call a _petite maison_, a place to
which they go to enjoy themselves in secret, to which they take their
mistresses or courtesans; and the young count----"
"Enough, monsieur, enough!" said Valentine, with a glance at the young
man which cut him short. "This does not interest me. That the Comte de
Marvejols should ruin himself like a gentleman, that he should commit a
thousand follies--fight, drink too much, run in debt--all that I can
understand! But that he should fall in love with a bath keeper's
daughter, that that passion should keep him away from the world--that is
what seems inconceivable to me!--But this plume that you found--are you
willing to give it to me?"
Bahuchet rubbed his chin, assumed his mocking expression, and said at
last:
"Give it to you, mademoiselle?--You are most worthy of it, certainly,
but I have tried it on my hood, and it was not unbecoming to me; on the
word of a Basochian, it made me quite the dandy! Ha! ha!"
"Not so loud, monsieur; you will wake my aunt!"
"Ah! to be sure; the honorable and venerable lady is taking a nap."
"When I ask you for this plume, which is of some value doubtless, I do
not mean to suggest, monsieur, that you should make me a present of it;
and I will beg you to accept this purse in exchange, not as the price of
what I ask of you, but as a souvenir of me."
The little clerk hastily cast a furtive glance at the pretty velvet
purse, which was not unlike an alms purse, and from which issued a sound
very pleasant to his ear. He bowed to the floor before the noble maiden,
and, almost kneeling, took the purse from her hand.
"I accept this in obedience to you, mademoiselle," he said; "to-morrow
you shall have the plume. I am too happy to be able to do anything that
is agreeable to you!"
"Very well, monsieur; now, leave us."
Bahuchet bowed once more, then smiled at Miretta, who answered his smile
by a wrathful glance. But the little clerk hurried from the room and the
house, paying no heed to the young lady's-maid's threatening expression.
He was no sooner in the street than he opened the purse and found four
gold pieces inside.
Thereupon he shouted for joy, tossed his cap in the air, bumped against
the passers-by, and finally ran off at full speed, crying:
"O Plumard! I say, Plumard! where are you? I have got enough to buy you
a wig! but I won't buy it!"
XXV
THE MAN WITH FIVE FACES
When the messenger from her aunt's solicitor had gone, Valentine rose
noiselessly and beckoned to her maid to follow her. They soon reached
Mademoiselle de Mongarcin's bedroom, and the latter, after bidding
Miretta to lock the door, said to her:
"We can talk more at ease here, Miretta. I do not know how to tell you
what is taking place in my heart. I am chagrined, angry, almost furious.
And yet, I do not love this Léodgard; but I would be glad to make sure
that that youth has not been telling us a parcel of lies.--Miretta, you
must help me to discover the truth; you are in my service to do whatever
I wish; you will help me, will you not?"
"I am devoted to you, mademoiselle, and you may rely upon me."
"Good! good! Oh! I will reward you handsomely, I promise you!"
"Do not speak of rewards, mademoiselle; I am in need of nothing; you are
too kind to me now; I shall be happy to prove to you that I am not
ungrateful."
"You are not moved by selfish motives, I have noticed that already; you
are not an ordinary lady's-maid; besides, you love, you adore your
lover. Therefore, you will understand me.--The Comte de Marvejols, the
man whom my friends have selected for my husband, make love to a bath
keeper's daughter! pass all his time with her! and, to be with her,
refuse to attend balls and receptions! Oh! I cannot believe it yet; but
if it is so, you will agree that I shall be justified in refusing him,
in spurning that alliance; and if anyone should ask me for my reasons,
how sweet it would be to me to avenge myself by revealing the noble
conduct, the honorable love affairs of Comte Léodgard! that fashionable
nobleman, that soul of honor, that gentleman of the court of Louis XIII!
A noble gentleman, on my word! who does not shrink from marring his
escutcheon!--Oh! I don't know what is the matter with me! Give me water;
give me that phial of salts! I need to inhale it a moment."
Miretta zealously waited upon her young mistress, whose nerves were in a
state of high tension because her self-esteem was humiliated and she
could not endure the thought that a bath keeper's daughter had prevented
her destined husband from accepting her invitation.
At last, when she had become somewhat calmer, Valentine sat for some
time deep in thought. Miretta awaited in silence the commands of the
nobly born heiress, who already felt that she hated the plebeian maiden
whom she did not know.
"You are not timid, Miretta; you must be brave, since you are not afraid
to go out alone at night, here in Paris, which is said to be such a
dangerous place.--Well! you must go to Rue Dauphine, you must see this
girl, this wonderful beauty."
"Yes, mademoiselle."
"You will ascertain whether there are, in fact, any rumors afloat
respecting her love affairs; make the neighbors and servants talk; in a
word, I rely upon you to discover the truth."
"Mademoiselle, the bath keeper's daughter whom I go to see, Ambroisine,
knows this Landry's daughter, I think.--Yes, I remember now that she has
often spoken to me of her friend Bathilde--that is the name of the girl
on Rue Dauphine."
"Bathilde!--oh! her name is Bathilde! I thought that her name would
prove to be Marion, or Margot!"
"I will go first to see Ambroisine; and through her I shall perhaps
learn more than from others!"
"Do as you think best; I leave you entirely free. From this moment I
relieve you from all service and give you permission to go out whenever
you please, and to stay away as long as you please. The concierge will
have orders to await your return; and if anyone in the house should
venture to make any impertinent comments on your conduct, he will be
dismissed at once; for I am mistress here!--As you see, my aunt is good
for nothing but to sleep! She paid no attention to that young clerk's
story, and yet her niece's future and happiness were directly concerned.
Henceforth I myself will look after everything that concerns my repose,
my name, my honor.--Here is money--you may need it to bribe someone, to
induce people to speak. Do not spare it, spend it lavishly if necessary;
but act, act promptly."
On the evening following this interview between Valentine and Miretta,
the latter left the house as soon as it was dark.
But do not think that she bent her steps toward Ambroisine's abode.
While Mademoiselle de Mongarcin had been profoundly impressed by the
little clerk's gossip, Cédrille's pretty cousin had been no less moved
by what she had heard concerning Giovanni. Monsieur Bahuchet's words
with respect to him had struck her to the heart; she saw her lover
arrested and led to execution; and her feeling for Giovanni was stronger
than her devotion to her mistress.
On leaving the house, she proposed first of all to try to meet Giovanni
that night. The little clerk had declared that his favorite lurking
place was the neighborhood of the Pont-aux-Choux, and Miretta said to
herself:
"I will go in that direction; I have no idea where that bridge is, but
someone will tell me."
The first person whom Miretta addressed, on Rue Saint-Honoré, to ask for
directions, seemed much surprised.
"Pont-aux-Choux, mademoiselle!" he exclaimed. "The deuce! it's a long
way from here; it's outside of the city, beyond the Fossés Jaunes,
between the Porte du Temple and Porte Saint-Antoine; you don't expect
to go there to-night, I presume?"
"Pardon me, I do."
"And you are all alone! Beware! it's a lonely neighborhood, and very
dangerous at night."
"I am not afraid; but please tell me which way I must go."
He directed her as well as he could, concluding with the usual phrase:
"When you get there, inquire again."
Miretta walked a long while; she was not sufficiently familiar with
Paris to tell where she was, so that she did not know if she was
approaching her destination.
Most of the shops were already closed; and the girl, remembering that
she had money about her, regretted that she had not secured the
assistance of a torchbearer or messenger, who would have guided her
directly to the place to which she wished to go; but it was too late now
to find any of those hard-worked men in the street.
More than once, bands of students and pages had attempted to accost the
girl, offering her their services in very familiar fashion; but she had
run away from them without replying.
She had just made her escape from a group of young men who seemed well
disposed for mirth, when, as she halted, all out of breath from running,
at the corner of a street, a well-known voice fell upon her ear.
"Eh! sandis! my eyes do not deceive me! it is in very truth our cruel
infanta whom I see before me!--By Roland, my dear, you expose yourself
to great risk, rambling about alone at night in such an unsavory
quarter; none but knights of my temper should haunt such places by
night!"
When she recognized the voice of her faithful suitor, the Gascon
chevalier, Miretta felt relieved; for although Passedix pestered her
with his love, at all events she knew him; and while she found him
intolerable as a lover, she believed him to be incapable of attempting
any enterprise calculated to offend a woman's modesty. It was with
something like pleasure, therefore, that the pretty brunette recognized
the chevalier at that moment, the result being that she answered in a
much more amiable tone than she usually adopted with him.
"Is it you, monsieur le chevalier? I confess that I did not expect to
meet you here!"
"That is because you were not looking for me, little one; whereas I am
always hoping to meet you!"
"As you are here, you will help me out of my perplexity."
"I will help you in whatever you wish to undertake! Do you wish to
ascend to the moon--to revolve about a planet? I will escort you to the
celestial empire; I have no very clear idea what road we must take; but,
no matter! I would act as your escort, even to hell, if such were your
whim!"
"I thank you, monsieur le chevalier, but I have no intention of asking
you to go so high or so low; I do not deem myself worthy as yet to dwell
with the angels, but I have no desire, either, to pay a visit to the
demons!"
"Sandis! I would gladly sell myself to the devil to win your love!"
"Be kind enough not to talk to me of love, and please be my guide to the
Pont-aux-Choux, for that is where I am going."
"Ah! I understand; that is where you make assignations with your lover;
probably you are going there to join that rough fellow, that rustic,
that artisan, who was awkward enough to make Roland drop from my hand on
the Place de Grève, solely by favor of the crowd that pushed me from
behind!--Ah! ten thousand _bombardes_! I would like right well to meet
your spark again; I would show him this time that I know how to use my
sword, and that it is not in the habit of escaping from my hand."
"But if I remember aright, chevalier, it escaped from your hand on the
day you were kind enough to espouse my cause and to stand in front of
Cédrille and myself on Rue Saint-Jacques."
"That day there was another reason," muttered Passedix, with a frown.
"But let us return to the present; you wish to go to Pont Saint-Louis?"
"No; to the Pont-aux-Choux."
"It is the same thing. You are going there very late, my dear. Is your
lover a market gardener, pray? has he his lair among the cabbages and
carrots that cover the road toward Vincennes?"
"If you propose to begin your questions again, monsieur, I will leave
you and try to find some more obliging cavalier."
"No! no!" cried the Gascon, detaining the girl, who had already started
to leave him; "why, the child is like a train of powder! what a hothead!
If you were a man, we should have killed each other ten or twelve times
before this. But I love this effervescent nature; it bears some
resemblance to mine.--So you want to go to the Pont-aux-Choux? Take my
arm, my love; I shall have the honor of escorting you thither."