Probably the man Grousset noticed my emotion, for he came to my rescue and
said, politely, "Madame Moulton, j'ai eu l'honneur de vous voir à un bal à
l'Hôtel de Ville l'année dernière."
I looked up with surprise. He was a very handsome fellow, and I remembered
quite well having seen him somewhere; but did not remember where. I was
happy indeed to find any one who knew me and could vouch for me, and told
him so. He smiled. "I venture to present myself to you, Madame. I am
Pascal Grousset. Can I be of any service to you?"
"Indeed you can," I answered, eagerly. "Please tell Monsieur Rigault to
give me my passport; it seems to have been a colossal undertaking to get
it." I preferred the _Pascal_ G. to the _Rascal_ R.
Grousset and Rigault had a little conversation together, and presto! my
longed-for passport lay before me to sign. No Elsa ever welcomed her
Lohengrin coming out of the clouds as I did my Lohengrin coming from the
mantelpiece.
I signed my name quickly enough; Rigault put the official seal on it, and,
rising from his chair, politely handed it to me.
Before taking my leave of the now over-polite Prefect, I asked him how
much there was to pay.
He courteously replied, "Rien, absolument rien," and added he was glad to
be of any service to me; and if there was anything more he could do, I had
only to command.
I did not say that I thought he had done enough for one day, but I bowed
him good-by and turned to go out.
Mr. Pascal Grousset offered me his arm, begging to take me to my carriage.
The gendarmes threw open doors, and we retraced our steps through all the
different rooms until we reached the one where I had left Mademoiselle
W----, whom I expected to find waiting for me in agonizing anxiety.
But what did I see?
Mademoiselle sound asleep on the bench, bag, smile, and all, gazed at and
guarded by the dreaded soldiers.
"I am afraid," said Pascal Grousset, "that you have been greatly annoyed
this morning. Your interview with the Prefect must have been most painful
to you!"
"I confess," I said, "it has never been my fate to have been placed in
just such a situation, and I thank you, _de tout mon coeur_, for your
assistance. You certainly saved my life, for I doubt if I could have lived
another moment in that room."
"Perhaps more than your life, Madame; more than you imagine, at any rate."
As he put us in the carriage, he looked puzzled when he saw _le mari_ I
had said was waiting for me; but a smile of comprehension swept over his
face as he met my guilty glance. He apparently understood my reasons.
On reaching home, tired, exhausted, and oh! so hungry, we found Mr.
Washburn. He and Mr. Moulton had been very anxious about me, picturing to
themselves all sorts of horrors, and when I told them what really had
happened they felt that their anxieties had not been far from the truth.
Mr. Washburn laughed at the subterfuges I had used and the lie I had told.
They examined my passport as a great curiosity, and noticed it had
_Valable pour un an_.
Mr. Washburn said, "Evidently they intend this sort of thing to go on
forever."
_23d of April._
Mrs. Moulton has decided to leave for Dinard, and starts the day after to-
morrow.
We have been assured that the train would make connections as far at least
as Rennes; beyond that no one could tell whether they went regularly or
not.
Mrs. Moulton had procured a red _billet de circulation_ with a date, a
white one without a date, Mr. Washburn's card, and different passes. She
was certainly well prepared for any emergency. As there was only one day
train, she was obliged to take that (it left al seven o'clock A.M.).
A desire to see some of her friends before her departure spurred Mrs.
Moulton to invite them to dinner. Our friends are now so few and far
between that it is not difficult to know whom to choose or where to find
them.
The result was a miscellaneous company, as you will see: Mr. Washburn,
Auber, Massenet, Beaumont, and Delsarte. Our family consisted of Mr. and
Mrs. Moulton, Henry, Mademoiselle Wissembourg, and myself.
Mrs. Moulton asked Henry to bring with him some green peas from Petit Val
to eke out the chef's meager menu.
With the aid of a friendly officer, Henry managed to pick a "whole bushel"
(he always exaggerates), which, with his toilet articles, completely
filled his large _sac de voyage_. Besides this, he had a portmanteau
with his evening attire, and a package which Count Arco wished to send to
Paris.
Count Arco ordered out the "ancient and honorable relic" of our landau
(the same I had used on the famous 18th of March) and the artillery
horses, with their heavy dragoons, in order to deposit Henry and his bags
at the pontoon bridge, where a man was found to take them as far as the
station.
To divert himself while tramping along with his _sac de voyage_, Henry
shelled the peas, casting the pods behind him, after the manner of Tom
Thumb, never dreaming that the peas thus left to chum familiarly with
his toilet things might suffer from the contact and get a new flavor. He
was surprised to see how the "bushel" had diminished in volume since it
started.
Mrs. Moulton had promised to send the carriage to meet _l'envoi
extraordinaire_; but Henry, finding none, started to walk toward home,
followed by a porter carrying his extra baggage.
What was Henry's astonishment at seeing Louis drive out of the Hôtel de
Ville with two strange men in the coupé. Henry hailed Louis, who, though
scared out of his wits, pulled up obediently, disregarding the angry
voices from inside. Henry opened the door and addressed the strangers
politely, "Messieurs, this is my carriage; I beg you to alight."
"Par exemple!" cried the two, in chorus. "Who are you?"
"I happen to be the proprietor of the carriage," replied Henry, assuming
an important air, "and if you decline to leave it I shall call the Sergent
de Ville." Then turning to the porter, he told him to put the bags in the
coupé, which he did.
"Ha, ha!" laughed the two men. "_Faites ça, mon bon!_ that would be
amusing. Do you know who we are?"
Henry did not, and said he was not particularly anxious to know.
"This is Monsieur Félix Pyat, and I am his secretary. Here is a _bon_ for
your carriage," handing Henry the card.
"Well," said Henry, pulling out his card, "here is my card, here are my
passes, and here [pointing to Louis] is my coachman!"