barge, with the intention of carrying out her fatal plan, she couldn't
have suspected that I was there, hidden behind the coal; and before she
jumped into the water, she knelt down, to make a last prayer to the good
Lord. She asked Him to forgive her for putting an end to her life, but
she said that she didn't feel strong enough to live, despised and
humiliated by everybody, abandoned by everybody she loved, when she had
done nothing to reproach herself for. When she said that, she couldn't
guess that anyone was listening to her, and she was getting ready to
die. Well, I say that at such a time she couldn't lie; ain't that right,
monsieur?"
Roncherolle tapped Chicotin on the shoulder and smiled.
"He doesn't reason badly, the rascal.--But what does your little
protegee do?"
"She is a flower girl, monsieur. Now I think of it, you know her; she is
the one you bought a bouquet of the first time I had the honor of
meeting you,--when you told me to come with you."
"The deuce! is it possible that it is that pretty, attractive girl? for
she is remarkably lovely, this friend of yours."
"Yes, monsieur, yes; she's the one; Violette, they call her."
"But wait a moment--if it's she, why the young dandy who claims to be
her lover must be a certain Monsieur Jericourt."
"Just so, master; Jericourt's his name--a man who writes plays; do you
know him?"
"I dined with him a short time ago."
"Do you know him well?"
"No, thank God! Why do you ask me that?"
"Oh! not for any reason; that is to say, I was thinking that if he was a
friend of yours, he might not lie so much to you, that's all."
"No, he isn't a friend of mine by any means.--By the way, you say that
this girl is sick; has she enough money to be well taken care of?"
"Oh! yes, bourgeois; she ain't hard up, she sells all she wants to; and
then, she has money put by."
"So much the better; who is taking care of her?"
"Your concierge, Mere Lamort."
"I don't know that one can have much confidence in her as a doctor. I
will go myself to see this girl, for what you have told me has aroused
my interest in her."
"I am sorry, bourgeois, but that can't be."
"What is it that can't be?"
"You can't go to see Mamzelle Violette, because she forbids it."
"How can she have forbidden it? I have never been there."
"Excuse me, but this is how it is: you see, when I was talking with her
this morning, I took the liberty to mention you; I told her that she
had a very pleasant neighbor."
"Ah! you say such things about me, do you?"
"That you were my customer.--By the way, bourgeois, shall I take a
bouquet to Madame de Grangeville from you to-day?"
"No, no, that's all over; you won't take her any more bouquets--from me
at least.--But let us return to the flower girl; you said to her----"
"I said to her: 'you have a very distinguished neighbor, who is--who is
no fool.'"
"Really, you don't think me a fool?"
"No, monsieur."
"I am very much flattered that you have such a good opinion of me."
"You are joking; but I know what I'm talking about, I tell you!"
"And this girl doesn't choose to receive me because you told her that I
was no fool?"
"Oh! it isn't that. I said: 'If you wish, mamzelle, Monsieur de
Roncherolle won't refuse to come now and then to sit with you, and he'll
be splendid company for you;' and then I added: 'you can receive him
without compromising yourself, because in the first place, he ain't
young, in the second place, he's gouty, and in the third place---- '"
"Go on, while you are about it!"
"In short, I meant to say that you didn't look like a rake."
"It is certain that I should find it rather difficult to play that part
now.--But this extravagant eulogy of my person did not make your friend
disposed to see me?"
"No; she said that she didn't need company, that she preferred to think
all by herself."
"In that case, my boy, we will let her alone; we must never annoy
anybody, especially the sick."
Monsieur de Roncherolle entered his room, and Chicotin returned to the
boulevard, saying to himself:
"Shall I go to Nogent and tell Georget all that has happened? If I do,
he won't be able to think badly of Violette any more. On the other hand,
if I tell him that she's sick, he'll worry and torment himself; he'll
want to come back to Paris and perhaps that will displease his employer.
I think that I'd better wait until Violette is well before I go to see
Georget."
But the next day, the young flower girl, very far from being well, had a
higher fever and was slightly delirious; she hardly recognized Chicotin
when he came to see her. He said to the concierge, when she approached
with several jugs in her hand:
"It seems to me that your patient ain't doing very well, Mere Lamort?"
"Oh, yes! oh, yes!"
"What's that? oh, yes? Why she hardly recognized me, and then she says
things that don't mean anything."
"It's the delirium going away; but I've got three kinds of herb tea for
her and--ah! there's Mirontaine barking; somebody's coming."
And the concierge put her head out of the round window on the sixth
floor overlooking the courtyard.
"Who's there? Who do you want?" she cried.
An old man who had entered the house, looked up and answered in a
quavering voice which only reached the fourth floor:
"Have you a Monsieur Dupuis in the house?"
"What? What's that? is there a well--_puits_--in the house?"
"He used to be an advocate."
"You say it's your trade?"
"He has several children."
"Are you looking for lodgings?"
"Aren't you coming down?"
"You say that you stuff mattresses? What a miserable voice! I wonder if
the man has got a cold in his head!--Ah! there's Mirontaine barking
again; I must go down.--Coming!--What a nuisance!"
The concierge went downstairs, and Chicotin, after examining Violette
again, shook his head and said to himself:
"I don't know whether it's wise to trust to Madame Lamort's three kinds
of tea; I don't know much about such things myself, but I see well
enough that this poor girl has a devil of a fever. No matter what
happens, I shall go down and fetch the old fellow from the floor below."
Chicotin went down to Roncherolle's room, and found him all ready to go
out.
"Have you come again to see if you are to carry a bouquet to the
baroness?" he asked with a smile; "I told you that that was all gone by;
I shan't have any more bouquets to send to anybody."
"No, bourgeois, no, I ain't come for that, but because of your little
neighbor upstairs, Mamzelle Violette."
"Well, how is she to-day?"
"Not well; she's as wild as a hawk; the concierge says that that's a
good sign, but I don't agree with her; I came to ask you if you would
have the kindness to go to see her, because you're better able than I am
to judge of her condition."
"So you think that she will be willing to receive me to-day, do you?"
"Pardi! yes, as she don't know whether there's anyone near her, and as
just now she thought she was in the country, under the trees."
"I am not a doctor, but no matter, I will go to see this girl, and if I
can be of any use to her, I ask nothing better; show me the way."
"Come, bourgeois, we haven't got far to go."
"I can believe that."
Roncherolle followed the young messenger, who ushered him into
Violette's room. The attic chamber was not elegant, but it was neat and
clean; the furniture was decent and in good condition; in short, nothing
in the room indicated poverty, or made the heart ache; on the contrary,
there were two large bouquets in two pretty vases.
Roncherolle approached the spotless white bed on which the sick girl
lay; she seemed to be in a very agitated sleep. He took one hand which
was moist and burning, he felt her pulse, then shook his head, saying:
"The fever is very high, but the skin is not dry; I am glad of that, it
is less dangerous."
"You don't like dry skins?"
"I say that I don't think that this fever is dangerous. But what do I
see on the mantel?"
"Those are flowers, some of Mamzelle Violette's stock."
"Such enormous bunches of flowers in a sick room! why, there's enough
there to kill her, and I'm not surprised that she is out of her head;
take them all away at once, throw the flowers out of the window."
"You see, Mamzelle Violette adores flowers, and Mere Lamort, instead of
leaving them in a corner of the courtyard, by the pump, where Violette
always keeps them, she said yesterday: 'I'll just take two big bunches,
and she'll enjoy looking at them as long as she is lying in her bed.'"
"Mere Lamort seems to me too well named; if that's the way that she
takes care of sick people, I must congratulate her.--Take all these
flowers away, my boy, and give the girl nothing to drink except a very
weak infusion of linden, with a few orange leaves: I am no doctor, but I
have an idea that that will be enough, and that she will be better
to-morrow. But take all these flowers away, don't leave a single one
here!"
While Chicotin hastily removed all the flowers from the vases,
Roncherolle gazed at the sleeping girl and murmured:
"It would be a pity; she is very pretty, is this child. Where the devil
have I seen that face?--Come, my boy, we'll let her sleep; I am going
down to give Mere Lamort a talking to."
XXXVIII
THE NEIGHBOR'S VISIT
The next morning Chicotin appeared in Monsieur de Roncherolle's
apartment with a radiant face, exclaiming:
"I've come to tell you, monsieur, that you fixed Mamzelle Violette up in
fine shape; she ain't out of her head to-day, her fever is much less; in
fact, she feels a great deal better; she told me to come and thank you
and tell you that she'd come herself as soon as she gets up."
"Thank me! for what? Because I advised giving her linden tea to drink,
and because I had the flowers taken out of her room? why, anybody would
have said as much as that. Don't let the girl put herself out for such a
trifle. However, as she is better, I will go up soon to see her, to bid
her good-morning. I fancy that that is not forbidden now?"
"Oh, no! you're a friend of hers now, bourgeois."
"Very good; in that case, announce a visit from her friend of the fifth
floor."
During the day, Roncherolle ascended the single flight of stairs which
separated him from the flower girl. He found the door open, and entered
the room of the sick girl, who was then alone, the concierge having just
gone down because she had heard Mirontaine bark.
Roncherolle approached the bed softly; Violette was not asleep and the
return of health could already be read in her eyes. At nineteen,
sickness often disappears as rapidly as it comes; it is simply the storm
which disturbs the tranquillity of a beautiful day, but leaves no traces
behind.
When she saw in her room a gentleman whom she did not know, the girl
opened her eyes in surprise and started to speak, but Roncherolle very
soon reassured her, saying:
"Mademoiselle, I am your neighbor from below--indeed, I could not very
well be from above; excuse me for intruding upon you thus, but Chicotin
asked me to come up yesterday to see you, because he was anxious about
your condition; to-day he came to tell me that the draught I ordered had
done marvels, that you were almost well. As I did not deem myself
capable of executing so rapid a cure, I wished to satisfy myself with my
own eyes as to whether he had told me the truth; but if I disturb you,
if my presence annoys you, tell me so frankly, and I will go away at
once."
Roncherolle's courteous and amiable tone instantly banished the girl's
embarrassment, and she replied with a smile:
"Oh, no! it doesn't annoy me, monsieur. It was you who were kind enough
to come up to see me yesterday; Chicotin told me, and I should have come
to thank you--excuse me--pray take a chair."
"Then it's understood that I don't disturb you? In that case, I will
take a seat and talk with you a moment; shall I?"
"Yes, monsieur, you are very kind."
"Let us not stand on ceremony any longer, now that we know each other.
All the necessary courtesies have been performed, and I am a neighbor
come to chat with a neighbor; and when his neighbor has had chatting
enough, she will show her neighbor the door."
"Oh! monsieur----"
"No, never fear, I shall know enough to show myself the door. First of
all, I am glad to see that you are really much better; I will wager that
two days hence you will not have a sign of your illness."
"Oh! I hope not, monsieur; then I shall be able to go back to my flower
stand."
"Yes, but you must not be imprudent, and go out too soon. I am well
aware that to keep one's room is not amusing, when one is all alone. Oh!
I know all about that, I have had too much experience; but at my age
reverie is melancholy, whereas at yours it should be rose-colored."
"Not always, monsieur."
"Have you no parents?"
"No, monsieur, I have none."
"Poor girl! and despair had taken possession of your pretty head, and
you proposed to die?"
"What! you know, monsieur?"
"Yes, yes. Chicotin told me that whole story; he is very fond of
talking, is that fellow; he told me that your lover, no, I mean the
young man who is in love with you, had ceased to speak to you because he
thought that you had listened to a young dandy; you see that I am well
posted."
"Georget believes me guilty, monsieur. I know that appearances are
against me, but I assure you that Monsieur Jericourt lies; it was he who
prepared the trap into which I fell."
"A trap! come, while we are alone, suppose you tell me all about it; I
should not be sorry to know the whole story--that is, unless it tires
you to talk."
"No, monsieur; besides it will not take long."
Roncherolle drew his chair nearer to the sick girl's bed, so that she
might not raise her voice, and Violette began:
"Some time ago, monsieur, I was at my flower booth on Boulevard du
Chateau d'Eau."
"Yes, I know where it is."
"A servant came to order a handsome bouquet, and gave me one hundred
sous in advance, saying to me: 'You must carry this bouquet to Madame de
Belleval's, Boulevard Beaumarchais, number 88; be sure to take it up to
the lady yourself, because she wants to order others for a wedding.'--I
accepted the order, monsieur; for you see, a bouquet for a hundred sous
is worth the trouble; we don't sell many at that price on the
boulevard.--The servant went away. When I had made a magnificent
bouquet, I asked a neighbor to look after my booth, and I hurried to the
address that was given me. I arrived there and asked the concierge for
Madame de Belleval. He hesitated for a moment, then said: 'Go up to the
fifth floor, the door to the right.'--Ought I not to have gone up,
monsieur?"
"Why thus far I see no reason why you should have hesitated."
"I reached the fifth floor, and rang at the right hand door. A woman
answered the bell. I asked for Madame de Belleval.--'Come in,' she
said.--'But I simply have a bouquet to deliver.'--'Come in all the
same,'she said; 'madame wants to speak to you;' and she opened the door
of a small salon where I saw nobody, and left me there, saying: 'Wait,
she will come.'--Should I not have gone in, monsieur?"
"Why not, my child? There was nothing to arouse your suspicion so far."
"I waited for a few moments, then a door opened; but instead of a lady,
I saw Monsieur Jericourt come in; a man whom I detest, and who had been
pestering me for a long while with his love and his insulting
propositions; he is a swell who thinks that a woman, especially a flower
girl, cannot resist him."
"I know him; go on, go on."
"When I recognized that man, I guessed that I had fallen into a trap; I
tried to go away, but he held me and began to talk to me of his love; he
laughed when I reproached him with his treachery, and dared to tell me
that I had no choice, because we were in his rooms and no one would come
to my help. Ah! if you knew, monsieur, what strength despair and
indignation gave me then; I began to shriek. Monsieur Jericourt tried to
kiss me, but I clawed his face so that he had no inclination to try
again! He was furious with rage, but he let me go, and as you can
imagine, monsieur, I left the room instantly. But it seems that there
was somebody on his landing when I went out: that little squint-eyed
young man, who lives in the same house, saw me come out all excited and
upset. It is quite possible that I was; but I was so happy to escape, so
terrified by the risk I had run, that I saw nobody; I was no longer in
that man's power, that was my only thought; and I am sure that I went
downstairs very quickly.--That is the whole truth; that is how I
happened to go to Monsieur Jericourt's, without a suspicion that that
was where I was going; but that is exactly what took place there--I
swear it to you, monsieur; and may the good Lord prevent me from ever
leaving this bed if I have lied in any one detail!"
Roncherolle gazed attentively at the young girl while she was speaking,
and for the first time in his life, perhaps, he felt deeply moved. He
pressed Violette's hand, and said:
"I believe you, my child, I believe you. In fact, there is nothing
improbable in your story; it isn't the first time that a pretty girl has
been lured into a trap in this way. It is very wrong, but still I could
forgive this Jericourt, if, having failed in his attempt, he had
admitted his defeat; but when you were virtuous, when you resisted his
attack, to go about proclaiming that he had triumphed over you, that you
had yielded to him--why that is going too far, deuce take it! Men ruin
enough women who are willing to be ruined; they should not ruin those
who object!"
"Oh! how glad I am that you believe me, monsieur!"
"But do you mean to say that when you told all this to your sweetheart,
he refused to believe you?"
"He has never given me a chance to justify myself; he ran away from me
without deigning to listen to me."
"Be calm, and get well; before long, he will do you justice, and will
himself ask your pardon for having suspected you."
"Do you think so, monsieur?"
"I am sure of it."
"You make me very happy, monsieur."
"I no longer believed myself capable of making a young girl happy, and I
am exceedingly proud. I am very glad that you have told me this whole
story, my little neighbor; and on your side, I hope that you will not
regret it."
"How kind you are to take an interest in me, monsieur."
"Now we have talked enough and I must leave you; rest, sleep, and
everything will go well; but above all, no more flowers in your
bedroom!"
"Oh, no! you see that there are none here now, monsieur."
"There is still one--but that one will never do any harm."
Roncherolle went away, and the girl fell asleep.
XXXIX
PURE LOVE
For several days the Comte de Brevanne walked upon the boulevard where
the pretty flower girl ordinarily stood, to no purpose. At last, after
allowing three days to elapse without going to Paris, he went thither
again, and as he drew near the Chateau d'Eau, he saw that Violette was
once more in her place.
Violette did not notice the gentleman who approached her and halted in
front of her flowers. But on raising her eyes and recognizing Georget's
protector, the man who had treated her so harshly and turned her out of
his house, the poor child shuddered and had not courage to utter a word.
"Yes, it is I, mademoiselle," said the count, imparting to his voice its
mildest intonation; "I frighten you, I see; you lower your eyes in
order not to meet mine. Oh! do not be afraid; you would not read in them
any trace of anger, but rather an expression of sorrow; for I behaved
very badly toward you, poor girl! But at that time cruel memories led my
reason astray; since then I have realized how unjust, how cruel I was to
you, when you came to ask for aid and protection; and so, on the day
after that scene, I came here to ask your pardon."
"Pardon! pardon!" murmured Violette, not daring as yet to believe what
she had heard, and timidly raising her eyes to Monsieur de Brevanne's
face. "Ah! is it possible, monsieur? Then you no longer despise me?"
"I have never despised you, my child; I simply vented upon you a fit of
anger which never should have touched you; for you are not the guilty
one.--Once more, are you willing to forget my injustice? Are you willing
to forgive me?"
"Oh! with all my heart, monsieur; I have never been angry with you, but
it made me very unhappy."
"Have you been sick, that you have not been here selling your flowers?"
"Yes, monsieur, I have been sick; but only for a week; it is all over
now, and I have forgotten about it."
"But you are still pale and changed."
"It is the result of the fever; but I feel better, and now, monsieur,
that you have told me that you are not angry with me any more, why, I
feel perfectly well; it seems to me that my strength has come back to
me, and that my health is as it was."
"I am glad to hear that, for your absence from this place worried me a
great deal; and if I had known where you lived, I should have gone to
inquire for you."
"And--and--is he still with you, monsieur?"
"He? You mean Georget, do you not?"
"Yes, monsieur, Georget."
"To be sure; but he didn't come with me; I left him at Nogent. I must
also confess to you, my child, that I didn't tell him that you had been
to Nogent; after what happened, I knew that I should simply make him
unhappy; and before telling him anything, I wished to see you again."
"You did well, monsieur."
"However, as the winter is approaching, we shall return to Paris in a
few days."
"Will he come back with you?"
"Yes, I shall bring him with me; I shall find work for him here; he is
an intelligent fellow and he writes well--it would be a pity to have him
continue as a messenger."
"And you will return soon, monsieur?"
"Yes, and then I expect to see you again; you will not be afraid to come
to my house? you won't bear me a grudge?"
"No, no, monsieur, I shall be at your service."
"I still have a--a certain handkerchief of yours; I am keeping it as a
sacred trust; but do not fear, I will return it whenever it is likely to
be of any use to you."
"Oh! I don't want it, monsieur. You know better than I if I can--if I
ought to hope to find my parents some day. But no, I probably shall
never find them, and I had better give up thinking about them, hadn't I,
monsieur?"
"You must come to see me in Paris; I shall probably return next week.
Georget will let you know."
"Georget! do you think he will speak to me?"
"I think that he will ask nothing better; for he has been very unhappy
about not coming to Paris these last few days, the poor boy!"
"Oh! how kind you are to tell me that, monsieur!"
And tears of joy glistened in the pretty flower girl's eyes. The count,
with a friendly nod, walked away, bidding her au revoir, and leaving in
the girl's heart so much joy and happiness that there was no room there
for the memory of her past sorrow.
While these things were taking place in Paris, Chicotin, seeing that
Violette had recovered her health, had started early in the morning, on
foot, for Nogent, in order to tell Georget all that had happened to the
young flower girl.
Chicotin had found his former comrade walking sadly back and forth on
the lawn in front of the count's house, gazing with a melancholy air at
the Paris road, by which Monsieur de Brevanne had departed, without
bidding him accompany him, and wondering why he went to Paris so often.
At sight of his friend, Georget uttered a joyful exclamation and threw
himself into Chicotin's arms; whereupon the latter, without stopping to
rest or to take breath, proceeded to tell his comrade all that had
happened to Violette,--her journey to Nogent, her despair, her illness,
and finally her recovery.
It would be difficult to describe Georget's state during this narrative;
listening intently, choking with grief, weeping and uttering cries of
joy in turn, he exclaimed:
"She is not guilty! what joy! poor girl, turned away, determined to die!
Oh! mon Dieu! I should have died too!"
He hardly gave his friend time to finish his story; he leaped on his
neck, embraced him, kissed him again and again, stammering in a voice
broken by sobs:
"It was you who saved her; it was due to you that she did not throw
herself into the canal, where she would have died; for so late at night
no one would have seen her, no one would have taken her out of the
water! Ah! I love you almost as much as I do her; I pray for only one
thing, and that is, that I may be able to prove my gratitude some day!"
"Well, well! what a silly fellow! here's a lot of talk for the simplest
kind of an action: a man sees a girl trying to kill herself, and
prevents her--I should like to know if that thing isn't done every day;
any boy in the street would do as much."
"So it was really she who came here! My heart guessed it, but that cruel
man deceived me; he told me that it wasn't she, because he had made her
cry and had turned her out of the house with harsh words! Oh! that was
shameful, and I will not stay any longer in a house where Violette
received such an affront. Wait here for me, Chicotin."
"What are you going to do?"
"Pack up my things, and I'll go away with you; my mother will come after
us."