INTRIGUES THICKEN
Chaudoreille now started off at a great pace towards the city. The ten
crowns which he felt in his purse, on which he prudently kept his hand
while walking, caused him to hold his head even more arrogantly than he
usually did. He had placed his little hat over his left eye in such a
manner that the old red feather with which it was adorned fell precisely
over his right eye, and as he walked mincingly along, at each step that
he took the chevalier could thus enjoy the waving of his ridiculous
plume.
Never had the Chevalier de Chaudoreille felt so clever, so inordinately
satisfied with himself. Blanche's image, so sweet, so beautiful, her
delightful manner, which possessed all the innocent witchery of
girlhood, was still before his eyes, and as he was never lacking in
confidence as to his own merits, he readily persuaded himself that the
young beauty could not see him with indifference, and was even a little
taken with him. On the other hand, the enterprise with which he was
charged by the barber, as the agent of the Marquis de Villebelle,
flattered his self-love. He believed himself the friend, the confidant,
of the Marquis de Villebelle, although the latter had never spoken to
him; but he thought that the adroitness with which he would serve him in
his amorous plan would be sooner or later known to the great nobleman
and would win his favor. Full of this idea, he hastened to reach the
shop of which Touquet had spoken. Before entering, Chaudoreille resumed
to himself,--
"One mustn't go in here," said he, "looking like a snob, and turn the
shop upside down without buying anything. I must not forget that I am
sent by a great personage. They have given me ten crowns on account, as
the price of my services, but I can very well spend twenty-four sous."
This determination taken, he opened the door of the shop and entered
nimbly; but in wheeling round in order to appear more graceful and to
bow at the same time to the right and left, he sent Rolande's scabbard
through one of the panes of the glass door, and it broke in a thousand
pieces.
Chaudoreille's face lengthened and he felt some confusion, for he
calculated that the price of the pane already exceeded the sum he had
intended to lay out. Two young persons seated behind the counter burst
into laughter, while an old woman placed opposite murmured between her
teeth,--
"He must be very awkward."
"I will pay for it," said Chaudoreille at last, heaving a big sigh.
"Indeed I should hope so," responded the shopkeeper; "but has anyone
ever seen a man carry a sword bigger than himself?"
At these words the chevalier drew himself up and stood on his tiptoes,
and glanced angrily at the old woman.
"It's very astonishing," said he, "that anyone should permit herself
such reflections. I carry the weapon that suits me, and if a bearded
chin had said the same thing to me, my sword would have immediately
taken the measure of his body."
"I didn't intend to say anything to make you angry," replied the
shopkeeper, softening; "only it seemed to me that that long sword would
embarrass you in walking."
"Embarrass me! That is a different thing," and Chaudoreille turned his
back to the shopkeeper to approach the young ladies, saying to
himself,--
"I didn't come here to discuss the length of my sword. Let's leave this
woman's twaddle."
"What do you wish, monsieur?" said a young, squint-eyed girl, with a
flat nose, thick lips and crooked chin, whose dark-red skin seemed
covered with a coat of varnish.
Chaudoreille looked at her for some moments, saying to himself,--
"By jingo! she's not very much like the portrait of the little one which
they gave me. It's true that love is blind, and that great noblemen like
original faces."
But after looking at the person who addressed him, Chaudoreille glanced
a little farther and perceived another woman measuring some ribbons. At
the first glance the barber's messenger recognized the young girl whose
portrait had been drawn for him. She was all Touquet had painted her,
though he could not then see the color of her eyes, which were bent on
the ribbon. Chaudoreille approached her and, bowing graciously, said to
himself,--
"This is our affair. I have an astonishing tact for divining correctly.
Other people hesitate for an hour; but I recognize immediately those who
have been pointed out to me, and I am never deceived. Here are some
delightful ribbons," said Chaudoreille, leaning on the counter,
carelessly caressing his chin, and trying to imitate the free manners
and impertinent tone of the profligates of the day.
The young girl then raised her eyes to the chevalier; their brightness,
their expression, arrested Chaudoreille in the midst of a compliment
from which he expected the most happy results.
"By jingo! what a glance! what fire!" said he, taking a step backward,
while the damsel continued to look at him.
In order to enchant her he attempted to turn a light pirouette, in which
Rolande's scabbard just missed putting out the eye of the cat, which was
lying on a neighboring stool. A mocking smile played on the lips of the
young girl, who said, "What ribbon does monsieur wish?"
"What ribbon? My faith! I don't much know. Something to match the rest
of my costume. It is to make a knot for Rolande."
"And who is Rolande, monsieur?"
"My sword, beautiful brunette, which I will pass through the body of him
who denies that you have the most beautiful eyes in the world."
Delighted at his compliment, Chaudoreille said to himself in an
undertone,--
"Take care; we mustn't go too far, or be too amiable; I must not forget
that I did not come here on my own account. This young girl appears
somewhat smitten, from the way she looks at me. Zounds! if I had a ruff
I would with good-will cheat the Marquis de Villebelle of the little
one. Come, Chaudoreille, hide your charms if you can; don't dart your
glances at this pretty person, and hasten to tell her that she must not
occupy herself with you."
While saying this Chaudoreille unrolled and examined twenty different
ribbons, approaching them to the handle of his sword and throwing from
time to time a glance about him, to assure himself that he could speak
without being heard by the other two women in the shop.
This manoeuvre did not escape the eyes of the young girl, who smiled,
and seemed to wait for Chaudoreille to explain himself. Happily for
Chaudoreille, two people came into the shop, and while the old woman and
the other damsel were serving them, he opened a conversation in a low
tone.
"I did not come here only to buy a ribbon, celestial merchant."
"If you wish anything else, speak, monsieur, and you shall be served."
"Julia, have you not finished with monsieur?" said the old woman
impatiently, looking angrily at the long falchion of the chevalier,
which, every time he moved, threatened her cat's eyes.
"Monsieur has not decided yet," answered Julia, while Chaudoreille cried
with an impertinent air,--
"It seems to me that I should be allowed to choose my own colors. When a
man like me comes into a shop, one should, my good woman, keep him there
as long as possible; if you wish to have my custom, leave me to chat as
much as I please with this beautiful child."
This insolent mode of speech was then so much in fashion, that she
remained silent, in place of putting the chevalier out, as would be done
now to a coxcomb who behaved like Chaudoreille.
"Oh, by jingo! if one did not keep these little shopkeepers in their
place I believe they would permit themselves to make observations to
us," said Chaudoreille, approaching for the twentieth time a
gold-colored ribbon to his doublet. "This color goes very well with my
cloak. What do you think of it, adorable damsel?"
"I think that these ribbons are too fresh to blend with monsieur's
clothing, and that that one swears at them."
"I confess that the velvet of my jerkin is a little tarnished, but what
could you expect? When a man fights he necessarily attracts dust and
powder. Here's a cloak that I've not had more than six weeks, and I'll
wager that you would say it had been worn for some months."
"Decide on your ribbon, monsieur," said the young girl, without
answering.
"Give me a gold-colored rosette," said Chaudoreille; and he added in a
mysterious tone, "I have something very important to communicate to
you."
"I doubt it," said Julia.
"Come," said Chaudoreille to himself, "I'll wager that she believes that
I'm in love with her and is impatiently awaiting my declaration. I'm
incorrigible; I let myself go, and I have turned her head without even
perceiving it. Let us hasten to disabuse her.--No, beautiful brunette,
you need not doubt it," responded he, lowering his eyes with a
coquettish air; "I ought to confess to you that it is not of myself that
I seek you, and that I am only the ambassador of Love, when you would
have taken me for Love himself."
Julia's hearty laughter prevented Chaudoreille from continuing, and he
did not know at first how to take this excessive gayety; but his
self-love always made him place things to his own advantage, and he
decided to laugh also, while saying in a low tone to the young girl,--
"Isn't it very funny to behold in me a lover's messenger?--I, who could
cheat them all of their conquests. It's a great joke, in truth."
"Come, monsieur ambassador, give me your message," said Julia, looking
pityingly at the envoy.
Chaudoreille threw a glance all around him, put a finger on his mouth,
examined the persons who were in the shop, pushed from him a stool on
which the cat was lying, then leaning toward Julia with the air of a
conspirator, he whispered in her ear,--
"A great lord sent me to you. He's a rich and powerful man; he's a
personage in favor; he's the gallant who--"
"He's the Marquis de Villebelle," said Julia impatiently. "I've known
him for a long time. What does he want with me? What has he bidden you
say to me? Come, monsieur, speak."
"It must be that I am very adroit," said Chaudoreille, "when without my
speaking she divines everything that I wish to say to her.--Since you
know his name," resumed he, again approaching his face to Julia's ear,
the latter brusquely pushing him away, "I have no need of telling you.
This great nobleman adores you."
"Undoubtedly he did not employ you to express his sentiments."
"No, but he sent me to ask you to meet him. If you do not accord him
this favor, he will set fire to the four corners of this street, that he
may have the pleasure of saving you, fair Julia,--for it is thus I
believe that you are called, which makes me think that you are not
French. Have I rightly divined?"
"Has anyone commissioned you to ask that question?" asked Julia, looking
at Chaudoreille disdainfully.
The latter bit his lips, put his left hand on his hip, and said in a
bass voice,--
"What shall I say to the noble Marquis de Villebelle, of whom I am the
intimate confidant, and whom I represent at this moment?"
"Tell him to choose his messengers better," said Julia in a dry tone.
"I was sure of it," said Chaudoreille, taking some steps backward; "she
has fallen in love with me; it is my personal attractions that have
played me this trick. All this is very disagreeable; I should have
disguised myself a little, or at least should not have permitted my eyes
to make fresh wounds. There is money to be got here. By jingo! I must
not lose sight of that;" and Chaudoreille repeated to Julia, not
allowing her, as a matter of prudence, to see more than his profile,--
"What shall I say to the marquis? Where will you walk tomorrow evening?"
The young girl waited for some moments in silence, appearing to reflect
deeply; while Chaudoreille fingered his purse, very anxious as to her
answer, and saying to himself,--
"In any case, I shall not give them back the ten crowns.
"Tomorrow evening at eight o'clock, on the Pont de la Tournelle," said
the young Italian at last; for Julia, in fact, was not French.
"'Tis enough," responded Chaudoreille, continuing to hold himself in
such a manner as to show only his profile; "I have nothing more to ask
of you; let us part, for fear the sight of me make you change your
resolution."
The messenger already had hold of the knob of the door when Julia
recalled him.
"You have forgotten to pay for your ribbon, monsieur."
"By Jove! that's true. What the devil has got me? I'm as stupid as
possible."
While saying this Chaudoreille drew forth his purse, rattling the ten
crowns that it held as loudly as possible, counting and recounting them
several times in his hand.
"I don't know if I have any change about me," said he. "Ordinarily I
carry nothing but gold, it is so much lighter. How much is it, beautiful
merchant?"
"Thirty sous, monsieur."
"Thirty sous for a rosette!" cried Chaudoreille to himself, making a
grimace, and putting the coins back in his purse. "That seems to me a
considerable price. You must notice that the ribbon is very narrow."
"For a man who carries nothing but gold," said Julia, "I am astonished
that monsieur should bargain over such a trifle."
"I'm not bargaining; but still it seems to me that you might knock
something off, and that for twenty-four sous one ought to have a superb
rosette. No matter; I'll pay it with a good grace; give me my change."
He presented one of the crowns with a sigh, and while Julia was counting
out his change he fastened the gold-colored rosette to Rolande's handle.
The effect that the ribbon would produce somewhat mitigated his regrets
at paying thirty sous for it. He took the money, and, recalling to
himself that they could ask him to pay for something else, he ran to the
door, darted into the street and disappeared as quickly as possible.
"And my window-pane," said the old shopkeeper,--"did he pay for my
pane?"
"Ah, mon Dieu! no, madame," answered Julia.
"I was sure of it. Run, my good girls, run as fast as you can. That
wicked coxcomb, trying to play the spark, with his old threadbare
mantle, with his old feather that I wouldn't take to dust my shelves!
He turned everything upside down here, and just barely missed putting
out my cat's eyes; he was impertinent to me, bargained for two hours
over a rosette, and ran away without paying for the pane. He's some
pickpocket, some cutpurse."
The two damsels opened the shop door and looked down the street, but
could see nothing of monsieur le chevalier.
"It's my fault, madame," said Julia; "I should have asked him for the
price of the window. I will pay for it."
"Yes, mademoiselle; that will teach you another time not to listen to
the conversation of these gentlemen who make so much trouble and haven't
a sou in their pockets."
The young Italian did not answer. It is probable that at that moment she
was not interested in the pane of glass or in Chaudoreille.
Night approached. For some hours all had been silent in the barber's
shop; for he, following his habitual custom, had closed his shutters as
soon as day declined, since he was not in the habit of receiving
strangers and waited on no customers in the evening. This was the time
that Touquet had chosen for his dinner hour, although people commonly
took this meal much earlier. The barber's dinner, therefore, also passed
for a supper.
As soon as Marguerite called from her kitchen, "We are waiting for you,
mademoiselle," Blanche left her room and quickly went down into the
lower room where the meal was served. Touquet dined with the young girl.
This was the moment of the day when they were longest together, although
the barber always appeared to wish to abridge the time as much as
possible, remaining at the table only as long as was absolutely
necessary in order to satisfy his appetite, and answering only in
monosyllables to all that Blanche said to him, so as not to prolong the
duration of the repast.
This time the barber was, as usual, seated near the hearth, waiting for
Blanche to come down; but when she appeared, contrary to his custom, he
raised his eyes to the young girl and seemed to wish to read hers.
Surprised at being thus regarded by him whose looks had always evaded
her smile, Blanche involuntarily lowered her eyes, which beamed with
truth and innocence, and a little more color appeared in her cheeks; for
the barber's look was more piercing than usual.
Touquet already seemed reassured. The expression of Blanche's features
had dissipated the uneasiness which he had felt; he placed himself at
the table and made a sign to the lovely girl to take her accustomed
place. The meal seemed as though it would pass in silence as usual;
Marguerite only, while changing the dishes, ventured some remarks, to
which Blanche answered a few words.
But all of a sudden the young girl appeared to recall an agreeable idea,
and cried,--
"My friend, did you hear the music this morning?"
"The music," said Touquet, glancing furtively at Blanche; "yes, I
believe I heard it."
"Oh, it was so pretty! They sang in Italian at first; then afterwards in
French,--a romance. Wait; I believe I can remember the refrain," and
Blanche sang with expression,--
"I love to eternity,
My darling is all to me."
The barber knitted his thick eyebrows while listening to Blanche.
"What! you have already learned the romance?" said he in an ironical
tone.
"No, not all the romance; the refrain only."
"And that was the first time you had heard it?"
"Yes, monsieur."
"Did you open your window then?"
"No, though I should very much have liked to do so; but I glued myself
against the window so as to hear better."
"And to see better, no doubt."
"See! Oh, I like to hear much better," answered Blanche, almost
frightened at the barber's glance.
"Are there no curtains at your window?" asked Touquet in a moment.
"Yes, monsieur, there are curtains," answered the young girl timidly.
"Blanche, I've told you that I don't like you to expose yourself to the
oglings of the coxcombs who pass and repass in the street."
"But, my friend, can anyone see me through the windows?"
"Yes; no doubt of it."
"Oh, well, my friend, if that displeases you, I won't go to the window
again."
Touched by Blanche's sweetness, the barber assumed a less severe
expression, and, rising from the table, he said, almost kindly,--
"Go back to your room, Blanche; I will try soon to render your life less
monotonous. Yes, I feel that you cannot continually remain in such dull
retirement."
"Why, I am all right, my friend; and if I could only learn that romance
altogether, but M. Chaudoreille only sings me his villanelle, and that
is not amusing."
"I will buy you some others."
"Oh, try to get me the one I heard this morning,--
I love to eternity.
Can you remember it?"
"Yes, yes; I will remember it.--But I am waiting for someone to come; go
upstairs to your room."
Blanche curtseyed to the barber and gayly went up to her room, while
Touquet said to himself, following her with his eyes,--
"Come, I was wrong to make myself uneasy; she knows nothing of him."
An hour after this conversation somebody knocked at the barber's door
and Marguerite admitted Chaudoreille, who came into the lower room with
the important air of a man who is very well pleased with himself.
"You're very late," said Touquet, signing to him to seat himself.
"Why, what the deuce, my dear fellow! Do you think that these affairs
are so speedily arranged?"
"I don't believe, however, that you've been all this time in the shop
where I sent you."
"No, undoubtedly; but I passed a greater part of the time there. After
that it was necessary for me to have some dinner, for you did not invite
me to partake of yours, I believe."
"Well, were you successful? Give me an account of your mission."
"I went there. Wait, while I dry my forehead a little."
The barber made a movement of impatience and Chaudoreille passed over
his face a little silk handkerchief, which for prudence' sake he never
unrolled. After emitting some exclamations of fatigue, during which
Touquet impatiently stamped his foot, he commenced his story.
"To go to that place in the city I could take two roads; I don't know
but I could take three."
"You wretch! take a dozen if you like, but get there."
"It was necessary for me to get there, and then to return here. I
decided on going by the Pont-Neuf, then down the quay into the street.
You know, where they sell such good tarts."
"Chaudoreille, you're mocking at me."
"No, I'm not; but it seemed to me I should tell you everything that I
did. But you are so petulant. Finally, I took the shortest way. I went
into the shop where the young girl works."
"That's good luck."
"I entered with that grace which characterizes me; I bowed first to an
old woman who was on the right, and afterwards bowed to two young girls
who were on the left. In the middle of the shop I saw nobody but a cat
sleeping on a stool."
"No doubt you bowed to the cat also."
"Oh, if you interrupt me I shall get all mixed up. They asked me what I
wanted; I answered, dissembling my designs, 'Let me see some ribbons.'
They showed me some reds, some blues, some greens, some yellows, some
oranges; during this time I examined the two little ones. As nature has
endowed me with a penetrating eye, I recognized immediately the one you
depicted for me."
"You spoke to her?"
"A moment and you shall see how I conducted the matter. I was
sufficiently adroit to get her to serve me. She asked me what color I
had decided upon; but I, with careful cunning, did not decide in order
that I might prolong the conversation. At last, by a happy chance, some
other people came into the shop; then we were less observed."
"And you told her what had brought you there?"
"I decided first for a gold color, and I got her to make a rosette for
Rolande. Wait; don't you think this becomes me well?"
So saying, Chaudoreille rose and put his sword near Touquet's face, who
pushed the chevalier rather brusquely into his seat, exclaiming,--
"If I didn't restrain myself I should break every bone in your body to
teach you not to abuse my patience thus."
"There's no pleasure in conducting an intrigue with you," said
Chaudoreille, a little disconcerted at being reseated so heavily; "but
if you wish that I should come to the facts, here I am. I made known to
her the intentions of the Marquis de Villebelle."
"His intentions? I didn't communicate them to you."
"That is to say, his love, his passion. At last I demanded a meeting for
tomorrow evening."
"Well, what then?"
"She hesitated for a long time, reflected for a long time; then I
redoubled my eloquence; I pictured the marquis dying of despair if she
repulsed his vows."
"Idiot! was that necessary?"
"Yes, certainly; it was highly necessary; the little one was weighing
it."
"Did she make any wry faces?"
"No; on the contrary, she gave me the most interesting glances."
"Finally, is she coming?"
"Yes, by jingo! she's coming. Yes; but it took me to decide her."
"Tomorrow evening?"
"Yes, at eight o'clock."
"Where is she to be?"
"On the Pont de la Tournelle."
"That's good."
"As soon as I had got her answer, I attached my rosette."
"Excuse me from the rest; I know enough."
"You must know that in bowing too precipitately I broke a pane, for
which they made me pay a crown, and for which I hope I shall be
reimbursed.--Ah, that's not all; I know that the lady is named Julia,
and also that she is an Italian. You see I did not lose any time. Are
you pleased with me?"
"Yes, it's not so bad," said Touquet, with a less gloomy expression,
approaching a table on which Marguerite had, according to her usual
custom, placed some cups and a pewter pot full of wine. "Stop your
eternal chatter; I'm well enough pleased with you. Drink a cup of
wine."
"You call exactitude of detail chatter," said Chaudoreille, filling one
of the cups up to the brim; "but I was trying to show you that I did not
steal the money which you gave me. As for the pane of glass, I had to
make that circumstance known to you, for I had only nine crowns
remaining.--Ah, I forgot; the gold-colored rosette cost me two crowns,
so I've only received seven."
"Two crowns for that miserable knot," said the barber, glancing
mockingly at the handle of the sword. "Chaudoreille, you have missed
your vocation; you should be a steward; you know how to swell your
bills."
"What must I understand by these words, I beg of you?"
"That that rosette did not cost over fifteen sous."
"Yes, for a passer-by, for an unknown, perhaps; but when one represents
a great nobleman, shopkeepers fleece him, and I didn't believe that I
should haggle. If anyone had asked me three times the price, I should
have given it without uttering a word."
"Calm yourself," said Touquet, smiling at the heat with which
Chaudoreille tried to prove that he had spent three crowns; "we must
reimburse you for your ruff."
"Oh, I'm not uneasy about that, but what shall I do tomorrow? Shall I go
to the rendezvous? Shall I carry off the little one?"
"No; that concerns me only. I can trust you to startle the game for me,
but I don't think proper to let you bring it down."
"You know me very little still, my dear Touquet. I believe that you
should render more justice to my adroitness and my valor. If you knew
how many intrigues I have drawn to a successful end! It's necessary to
see me in moments of difficulty. I take precedence over everybody; I
would abduct a Venus under the eyes of Mars, and all the Vulcans would
not make me afraid."
"I don't doubt it, but I don't want to put you to the proof."
"All the worse for you, for you would see some very surprising things.
No obstacle would stop me; when I'm excited I'm an Achilles. Wait; I
should just like once, by chance, that you should find yourself in some
danger, that you should have need of help; then, as quick as lightning,
with Rolande in my hand--"
At this moment a noise was heard in the street, and Touquet, squeezing
Chaudoreille's arm exclaimed,--
"Be quiet! be quiet! I hear something."
"What does it matter to us what they are doing in the street? There are,
perhaps, some young men laughing and amusing themselves. Let them do it.
I tell you, then, that, brandishing my redoubtable sword--"
"Be quiet, then, stupid," resumed the barber, holding the chevalier's
arm still more tightly; "they are beginning again."
They then distinctly heard the sound of a guitar which someone was
playing near the house.
"Someone who loves music," said Chaudoreille.
"Hush! let us listen," said Touquet, whose features expressed the most
lively anxiety, while the chevalier murmured in a bass voice,--
"They don't play at all well; they have need of some of my lessons."
Almost immediately a voice was heard which, accompanied by the guitar,
sang a tender romance, of which the refrain recalled to the barber the
words which Blanche had quoted to him.
"No more doubt of it," said Touquet, rising suddenly; "they are singing
to her. Ah, reckless fellow, I'll go and take away from you all desire
to return here."
While saying these words the barber ran to get his poniard, which hung
over the fireplace, while Chaudoreille changed color and murmured,--
"What the devil is the matter with you? What are you going to do? and
who are you going to do it to?"
"To an insolent fellow who is in front of this house. Come,
Chaudoreille; follow me. If there were ten of them, they should have the
pleasure of feeling my poniard. You shall also have the pleasure of
chasing and chastising these blackguards."
While saying this Touquet ran into the shop and hastened to open the
door, being by that means sooner in the street than if he had gone by
the passageway. While he precipitately drew the bolts, Chaudoreille rose
with a good deal of fury and ran three times round the hall, crying,--
"Where the devil have I laid my sword?"
This feat accomplished, he perceived that Rolande had not left his side,
and cried to Touquet, who could not hear him,--
"Stupid that I am! In my hurry I did not see him. I am with you; I have
only to draw him from the scabbard.--Come then, Rolande.--It is this
cursed knot which holds him. Plague be on the rosette! Touquet, here I
am; amuse them a little until I can draw Rolande from the scabbard."
But the barber was already in the street, while Chaudoreille remained at
the back of the room, appearing to be making futile efforts to draw his
sword, crying all the while,--
"I am with you! Cursed rosette! Without it I should have already killed
five or six."