A NOCTURNAL ADVENTURE
The bachelor in cap and crinoline felt sufficiently ill at his ease in
the streets of Paris. Although he was protected by the darkness of the
night, for there were few who carried lanterns, every time anyone passed
near him Urbain was afraid that he had been recognized, and fully
expected to be taken by the sergeants of the watch, who would doubtless
demand the motive of his disguising himself, and fleece him to the
extent of a heavy fine or even perhaps lock him up, if he continued to
walk in the guise of a woman in the good city of Paris, where it was
only by distributing money in handfuls that one was allowed to pass for
what he was not; and, as Urbain had not a crown about him, because when
disguising one's self as a woman one does not remember everything, even
to the putting of money in his pocket, the young lover felt it necessary
to avoid the police; at all events, he did not fear robbers; that was
much, then, and may still prove something of a consolation to those who
have nothing to lose today.
Little by little Urbain grew more assured; he began to feel accustomed
to his costume, and certain compliments addressed to him in passing
proved to him that people were entirely deceived as to his sex. Urbain
was careful not to respond to the gallantries offered him by a few
cavaliers, but contented himself by walking faster, escaping with
muddied skirts since he did not yet know very well how to hold them up
and they greatly embarrassed him in jumping the streams of dirty water.
At length he reached the Rue des Bourdonnaise; and then for the first
time he reflected that it was very late to try to introduce himself into
the barber's house. There was no likelihood of Marguerite's venturing
out at this hour; his disguise would therefore not serve him till the
next day. His assumption of feminine raiment had been useless so far;
but does a lover make such reflections? Besides, as Urbain had to
habituate himself to wearing women's clothes, he was not displeased at
making his first essay at night. While thus thinking he rambled past the
barber's house, ogling Blanche's windows, and sending her a thousand
sighs which she could not hear because she was asleep, and which
probably she would not have heard any better had she been awake.
Wholly engrossed in the pleasure of sighing under his lady love's
casements, Urbain forgot that while it is natural to see a young man
waiting and sighing in the street at night, a solitary woman doing the
like evokes many conjectures. All of a sudden the young lover was
recalled from his ecstacy by some unknown person who pinched him very
hard on the knee, and said to him, in a hoarse, rasping voice,--
"It seems to me, little mother, that the one you're waiting for is
something late; if you'll only accept my arm we can go and taste some
very fair white wine at the merchant's down yonder. I'm a good customer
of his, and he has some comfortable private rooms."
Urbain turned sharply round and perceived at his side a big, jolly
fellow, in the garb of a chair porter, who was offering his arm and
smiling almost to his ears. Without answering, and little pleased by
this adventure, the young man began to run, soon leaving his gallant in
the lurch. But his troubles were not to end there; some two hundred
steps farther on, he was stopped anew by some pages who essayed to kiss
him; he disengaged himself from them as speedily as possible, and
resumed his course. Later he was in turn accosted by some students, some
lackeys, and some soldiers, several of them pursuing him. Urbain, that
he might the better escape them, redoubled his agility, and, in order to
run faster, gathered his skirts up about his knees; but the higher he
pulled them, the greater ardor these gentlemen evinced in following him.
"Hang it," said Urbain, while running, "I didn't disguise myself as a
woman to be pinched by all the pages and lackeys of this city. Men are
the devil incorporate; I perceive now that it's more agreeable to wear
breeches than petticoats, but tomorrow I shall obtain entrance to
Blanche's dwelling. Come, courage--they'll leave me alone perhaps."
And Urbain jumped over the puddles, wound among the streets, perspiring
and suffocating in his corset, and under the false bosom with which the
young servant had stuffed his chest. Turning down the streets at random
as he came to them, in order to escape his pursuers, he did not know
himself in what neighborhood he was.
At last, not hearing anyone behind him, he stopped to take breath and
recognize the place in which he stood. He had passed the bridges and had
reached the great Pre-aux-Clercs, in which they had commenced to build
houses and open streets; as they had done in the little Pre-aux-Clercs,
which towards the end of the reign of Henri the Fourth was entirely
covered with houses and gardens.
"Good; here's the new street they call Rue de Verneuil," said Urbain to
himself; "and this is the Chemin-aux-Vaches where they've built the Rue
Saint-Dominique; I recognize it. But I'll rest for a minute or two, I'm
too far from home to return there immediately--I can't walk any farther.
Let's get my breath at least. This neighborhood's deserted, and, as
night is far advanced, let's hope I shall make no more conquests."
Urbain hoisted his skirts and seated himself on a stone. At the
expiration of half an hour, feeling rested, he rose and took the way to
his lodgings. He walked quietly along congratulating himself that he
should meet no one else when suddenly, in passing by the Rue de Bourbon,
he saw four men who were leaving it and who, on sight of him, barred the
way.
"Who goes there? So late--and the game is still rising?"
"Upon my honor a charming meeting, it's a little country wench."
"Better still. I'm very fond of peasants."
"What the devil, marquis! a peasant who walks about Paris in the middle
of the night. That's an innocence which seems to me tremendously
adventurous."
"Come, chevalier, your thoughts are always evil. I'll wager the poor
child came to Paris for nothing but to sell her eggs."
"Let her have come for what she will, she sha'n't return without the
impress of my mustaches on her pretty lips."
Urbain realized by the language and manners of these gentlemen that they
were profligates of the higher classes. Unable to make his escape, for
he was surrounded on every side, he tried to relieve himself of them by
saying in a falsetto voice,--
"Gentlemen, leave me, I beg of you; I am not what you believe."
But his prayers were unheeded; they pushed him, they surrounded him.
Urbain, rendered impatient by these manners, saw no means of regaining
his liberty save making himself known, and he cried in his natural
voice,--
"Leave me, gentlemen, I repeat to you, you are addressing the wrong
person."
These words, pronounced by the young bachelor in a manner which left no
doubt as to his sex, produced the effect of a head of Medusa on the four
young noblemen: they remained motionless for a moment, then they all
burst into a shout of laughter, crying: "It's a man. What a unique
adventure."
"Yes, gentlemen, it is a man," answered Urbain. "I hope now that you
will allow me to continue on my way."
"As for me, I will no longer oppose you," said one of the strangers.
"Come, Villebelle," resumed another, "let the boy go. You can see very
well he's not a girl. I believe, deuce take it, that the wine we've
drunk didn't allow the marquis to see our mistake. Isn't that so,
chevalier?"
"Yes, yes, indeed, gentlemen," answered the Marquis de Villebelle; for
it was that nobleman himself, who, as he had said to the barber, made
merry with his friends by seeking spicy adventures in the streets of the
capital. With a head excited by wines and liqueurs, the marquis, always
the leader in the follies and extravagances committed in these
escapades, had pressed Urbain most closely, and on the latter making
himself known had continued to hold the young bachelor.
"A moment, my boy," said he, stopping Urbain. "We know you're not a
girl, that's all very well; but, by all the devils! in this disguise you
must necessarily have had some very comical adventures; recount them to
us, 't will amuse us, and afterwards you shall be free to go your way."
"Yes, yes," repeated the others; "he must tell us why he's dressed up
like a woman."
"I must really tell this adventure at the cardinal's little levee
tomorrow morning.
"And I must tell it to Marion Delorme. I'll have Bois-Robert put it into
verse for the court."
"Colletel shall turn it into a comedy. Come, speak on."
"Yet, once more, gentlemen, allow me to go on my way; by what right do
you interrogate me? I have nothing to say to you, and I wish to depart."
Saying these words, he endeavored to repulse the marquis anew, but the
latter barred the way and drew his sword, crying,--
"Upon my honor, this little goodman is very fractious. It's really too
droll. You shall speak or we will make you jump under our swords like a
spaniel."
"Insolent fellow," exclaimed Urbain, furiously; "had I a weapon you had
not dared to use such language to me, or I should already have
chastised you."
"Truly? Oh, hang it. I should like to see how you handle a sword. Come,
chevalier, lend him yours."
"What, Villebelle, you wish it?"
"Yes, undoubtedly, a duel with a peasant--that will be a joke."
"Come, gentlemen, make a circle."
So saying, the marquis took a sword from one of his companions and
presented it to Urbain.
"Hold," said he, "here's a weapon, defend yourself. Guard yourself,
girl-boy, and let us see if you are as brave as you're stubborn."
Urbain seized the sword with ardor and immediately attacked the marquis.
Though embarrassed by his petticoats and corset he pressed impetuously
on his adversary, who, while parrying his strokes, exclaimed at every
moment,--
"Well done; very well done, 'pon my honor! Do you see that,
gentlemen?--and that parry--and that thrust. Deuce take it, if he goes
on in this way I must use all my skill to--"
A stroke of his adversary's sword, which crossed his forearm, cut short
the marquis' words; his sword dropped from his hand, his friends
surrounded and supported him, while Urbain himself offered his help.
"It's nothing--a mere nothing," said the marquis; "good-by, my friend,
you're a brave fellow, and I'm pleased to have made your acquaintance;
although I don't know with whom I've fought this duel. As to you, if
some day you find yourself in any embarrassment, if you have a bad
business or need a protector, come to my hotel, ask for the Marquis de
Villebelle and you will always find me ready to oblige you."