MASTER CHUPIN.
Beaumarchef, when Mascarin called a general meeting of his associates,
was in the habit of assuming his very best attire; for as he was often
called into the inner office to answer questions, he was much
impressed with the importance of the occasion. This time, however, the
subordinate, although he had received due notice of the meeting, was
still in his every-day dress. This discomposed him a good deal, though
he kept muttering to himself that he meant no disrespect by it. Early in
the morning he had been compelled to make up the accounts of two
cooks, who, having obtained situations, were leaving the servants’
lodging-house. When this matter was completed, he had hoped for half an
hour’s leisure. As he was crossing the courtyard, however, he fell in
with Toto Chupin bringing in his daily report, which Beaumarchef thought
would be what it usually was--a mere matter of form. He was, however,
much mistaken; for though outwardly Toto was the same, yet his ideas had
taken an entirely new direction; and when Beaumarchef urged him to look
sharp, the request was received with a great deal of sullenness.
“I ain’t lost no time,” said he, “and have fished up a thing or two
fresh; but before saying a word--”
He stopped, and seemed a little confused.
“Well, go on.”
“I want a fresh arrangement.”
Beaumarchef was staggered.
“Arrangement!” he echoed.
“Of course you can lump it if yer don’t like it,” said the boy. “Do
you think as how I’m going to work like a horse, and not get a wink of
sleep, just for a ‘thank ye, Chupin?’ No fear. I’m worth a sight more
nor that.”
Beaumarchef flew into a rage.
“Then you are not worth a pinch of salt,” said he.
“All right, my cove.”
“And you are an ungrateful young villain to talk like this after all the
kindness your master has shown you.”
Chupin gave a sarcastic laugh.
“Goodness!” cried he. “To hear you go on, one would think that the boss
had ruined himself for my sake.”
“He took you out of the streets, and has given you a room ever since.”
“A room, do you say? I call it a dog kennel.”
“You have your breakfast and dinner every day regularly.”
“I know that, and half a bottle of wine at each meal, which has so much
water in it that it cannot even stain the tablecloth.”
“You are an ungrateful young hound,” exclaimed Beaumarchef, “and forget
that, in addition to this, he has set you up in business as a hot
chestnut seller.”
“Good old business! I am allowed to stand all day under the gateway,
roasted on one side, and frozen on the other, and gain, perhaps twenty
sous.”
“You know that in summer he has promised to set you up in the fried
potato line.”
“Thank ye for nothing; I don’t like the smell of grease.”
“What is it you want, then?”
“Nothing. I feels that I ought to be a gentleman at large.”
Beaumarchef cast a furious glance at the shameless youth, and told him
that he would report everything to his master. The boy, however, did not
seem to care a pin.
“I intends to see Master Mascarin myself presently,” remarked Chupin.
“You are an idiot.”
“Why so? Do you think I didn’t live better before I had anything to
do with this blooming old cove? I never worked then. I used to sing in
front of the pubs, and easily made my three francs a day. My pal and I
soon check ‘em though, and then off we went to the theatre. Sometimes
we’d make tracks for Ivry, and take our doss in a deserted factory, into
which the crushers never put their noses. In the winter we used to go to
the glass houses and sleep in the warm ashes. All these were good times,
while now--”
“Well, what have you to grumble at now? Don’t I hand you a five-franc
piece every day that you are at work?”
“But that ain’t good enough. Come, don’t get shirty; all I asks is a
rise of salary. Only say either Yes or No; and if you say No, why, I
sends in my resignation.”
Beaumarchef would have given a five-franc piece out of his own pocket
for Mascarin to have heard the boy’s impertinence.
“You are a young rascal!” said he, “and keep the worst of company. There
is no use in denying it, for a hang-dog fellow, calling himself Polyte,
has been here asking after you.”
“My company ain’t any business of yours.”
“Well, I give you warning, you will come to grief.”
“How?” returned Toto Chupin sulkily. “How can I come to grief? If old
Mascarin interferes, I’ll shut up his mouth pretty sharp. I wish you and
your master wouldn’t poke their noses into my affairs. I’m sick of you
both. Don’t you think I’m up to you? When you make me follow some one
for a week at a time, it isn’t to do ‘em a kindness, I reckon. If things
turn out badly, I’ve only to go before a beak and speak up; I should get
off easily enough then; and if I do so, you will be sorry for not having
given me more than my five francs a day.”
Beaumarchef was an old soldier and a bold man, but he was easily upset,
for the lad’s insolence made him believe that he was uttering words that
had been put in his mouth by some wily adviser; and not knowing how
to act, the ex-soldier thought it best to adopt a more conciliating
demeanor.
“How much do you want?” asked he.
“Well, seven francs to start with.”
“The deuce you do! Seven francs a day is a sum. Well, I’ll give it you
myself to-day and will speak about you to the master.”
“You won’t get me to loosen my tongue for that amount to-day; you may
bet your boots on that,” answered the lad insolently. “I wants one
hundred francs down on the nail.”
“One hundred francs,” echoed Beaumarchef, scandalized at such a demand.
“Yes, my cove, that and no less.”
“And what will you give in return? No, no, my lad; your demand is a
preposterous one; besides, you wouldn’t know how to spend such a sum.”
“Don’t you flurry yourself about that; but of one thing you may be sure,
I sha’n’t spend my wages as you do--in wax for your mustache.”
Beaumarchef could not endure an insult to his mustache, and Chupin was
about to receive the kick he had so richly earned, when Daddy Tantaine
suddenly made his appearance, looking exactly as he did when he visited
Paul in his garret.
“Tut, tut; never quarrel with the door open.”
Beaumarchef thanked Providence for sending this sudden reinforcement to
his aid, and began in a tone of indignation,--
“Toto Chupin--”
“Stop! I have heard every word,” broke in Tantaine.
On hearing this, Toto felt that he had better make himself scarce; for
though he hardly knew Mascarin, and utterly despised Beaumarchef, he
trembled before the oily Tantaine, for in him he recognized a being who
would stand no nonsense. He therefore began in an apologetic tone,--
“Just let me speak, sir; I only wanted--”
“Money, of course, and very natural too. Come, Beaumarchef, hand this
worthy lad the hundred francs that he has so politely asked for.”
Beaumarchef was utterly stupefied, and was about to make some objection
when he was struck by a signal which Toto did not perceive, and, drawing
out his pocketbook, extracted a note which he offered to the lad. Toto
glanced at the note, then at the faces of the two men, but was evidently
afraid to take the money.
“Take the money,” said Tantaine. “If your information is not worth the
money, I will have it back from you; come into the office, where we
shall not be disturbed.”
Tantaine took a chair, and glancing at Toto, who stood before him
twirling his cap leisurely, said,--
“I heard you.”
The lad had by this time recovered his customary audacity.
“Five days ago,” he began, “I was put on to Caroline Schimmel; I have
found out all about her by this time. She is as regular as clockwork in
her duties at least. She wakes at ten and takes her absinthe. Then she
goes to a little restaurant she knows, and has her breakfast and a game
at cards with any one that will play with her. At six in the evening
she goes to the Grand Turk, a restaurant and dancing-shop in the Rue des
Poisonnieres. Ain’t it a swell ken just! You can eat; drink, dance, or
sing, just as you like; but you must have decent togs on, or they won’t
let you in.”
“Wouldn’t they let you through then?”
Toto pointed significantly to his rags as he replied,--
“This rig out wouldn’t pass muster, but I have a scheme in hand.”
Tantaine took down the address of the dancing-saloon, and then,
addressing Toto with the utmost severity,--
“Do you think,” said he, “that this report is worth a hundred francs?”
Toto made a quaint grimace.
“Do you think,” asked he, “that Caroline can lead the life she does
without money? No fear. Well, I have found out where the coin comes
from.”
The dim light in the office enabled Tantaine to hide the pleasure he
felt on hearing these words.
“Ah,” answered he carelessly, as if it was a matter of but little
moment, “and so you have found out all that, have you?
“Yes, and a heap besides. Just you listen. After her breakfast, my sweet
Carry began to play cards with some chaps who had been grubbing at the
next table. ‘Regular right down card sharpers and macemen,’ said I
to myself, as I watched the way in which they faked the pasteboards.
‘They’ll get everything out of you, old gal.’ I was in the right, for in
less than an hour she had to go up to the counter and leave one of her
rings as security for the breakfast. He said he knew her, and would give
her credit. ‘You are a trump,’ said she. ‘I’ll just trot off to my own
crib and get the money.’”
“Did she go home?”
“Not she; she went to a real swell house in a bang up part of Paris,
the Rue de Varennes. She knocked at the door, and in she went, while I
lounged about outside.”
“Do you know who lives there?”
“Of course I do. The grocer round the corner told me that it was
inhabited by the Duke--what was his blessed name? Oh, the Duke----”
“Was it the Duke de Champdoce?”
“That is the right one, a chap they say as has his cellars chock full of
gold and silver.”
“You are rather slow, my lad,” said Tantaine, with his assumed air of
indifference. “Get on a bit, do.”
Toto was much put out; for he had expected that his intelligence would
have created an immense sensation.
“Give a cove time to breathe in. Well, in half an hour out comes my
Carry as lively as a flea. She got into a passing cab and away she went.
Fortunately I can run a bit, and reached the Palais Royal in time to
see Caroline change two notes of two hundred francs each at the
money-changers.”
“How did you find out that?”
“By looking at ‘em. The paper was yellow.”
Tantaine smiled kindly. “You know a banknote then?”
“Yes, but I have precious few chances of handling them. Once I went into
a money-changer’s shop and asked them just to let me feel one, and they
said, ‘Get out sharp.’”
“Is that all?” demanded Tantaine.
“No; I have kept the best bit for a finish. I want to tell you that
there are others on the lookout after Caroline.”
Toto had no reason this time to grumble at the effect he had produced,
for the old man gave such a jump that his hat fell off.
“What are you saying?” said he.
“Simply that for the last three days a big chap with a harp on his back
has been keeping her in view. I twigged him at once, and he too saw her
go into the swell crib that you say belongs to that Duke.”
Tantaine pondered a little.
“A street musician,” muttered he. “I must find out all about this. Now,
Toto, listen to me; chuck Caroline over, and stick to the fellow with
the harp; be off with you, for you have earned your money well.”
As Chupin went off, the old man shook his head.
“Too sharp by a good bit,” said he; “he won’t have a long lease of
life.”
Beaumarchef was about to ask Tantaine to remain in the office while
he went off to put on his best clothes, but the old man stopped this
request by saying,--
“As M. Mascarin does not like to be disturbed, I will just go in without
knocking. When the other gentlemen arrive, show them in; for look you
here, my good friend, the pear is so ripe that if it is not plucked, it
will fall to the ground.”