tree: ‘Your age is thus and so,’ the tree can’t contradict him.”
“True! I hadn’t thought of that.”
“So you see that there’s no great merit in that; but you are
mistaken--it’s not the age of trees, but the age of women that the
master of this house has the knack of guessing at first sight.”
“By examining the trunk?”
“Oh! I don’t say what he examines; but if by the trunk you mean the
torso, it may be that.”
“Oh! that is much more amusing! And he never gets a year out of the
way?”
“Not a week!”
“Pardieu! that is likely to lead to some very amusing revelations! What
in the devil did Doctor Antoine mean by telling us that it was a matter
of trees?”
“He must have heard wrong.”
“I must go at once to the ladies and correct his mistake.”
Monsieur Jarnouillard instantly sought his wife, who was talking with
Mesdames Remplumé and Droguet, and said to them:
“It isn’t trees that Monsieur de Belleville tells the age of without
ever making a mistake, just by examining the trunk; it’s women.--So
beware, mesdames! I felt I ought to warn you; he is never a week wrong!”
“What is Monsieur Jarnouillard talking about?” exclaimed Madame Droguet;
“Monsieur de Belleville tells our age by examining what?”
“He says the trunk.”
“What is the meaning of such indecency? Just let him try examining
anything of mine and telling me how old I am--he’ll get a warm welcome!”
“If I was certain that that’s what we were invited here for,” said
Madame Remplumé, “I would go away this minute!”
“Tell us our ages! the impertinent fellow! It would be very smart of
him, for I don’t know my own age.”
“Nor I either, my dear friend! As if a woman ever needed to know her
age! Nobody but a concierge ever does, and that depends on the
neighborhood.”
The arrival of the mistress of the house put an end to all this
tittle-tattle.
Thélénie was superb; her dress was gorgeous; her novel, original method
of arranging her beautiful black hair was voted admirable, especially as
some beautiful pearls and diamonds were scattered through it and
produced a marvellously brilliant effect.
Never had her lovely black eyes shone with a brighter gleam, never had
her smile embodied more seduction; and so, when she appeared in the
salon, a concert of eulogistic remarks arose on all sides, and even
Freluchon himself could not help thinking:
“She is a magnificent creature, and no mistake: fine figure, fine
costume, fine face! What a pity that her heart doesn’t correspond! I
know that that is of no consequence in the eyes of many people, who care
for nothing in a woman except what excites their senses and flatters
their self-esteem. But when one has studied them a little, one knows all
the harm that a woman can do to whom nature has given everything except
a heart! Their power is immense! To be sure it lasts but one season; but
that season is long enough for them to do much harm--and sometimes, from
caprice, a little good.”
Thélénie had a smile for all, an affable glance for this one, a
compliment for that one; upon her arrival in the midst of her guests,
her salons were transformed, and gayety and animation superseded the
ennui which had begun to make headway. One bright woman is enough to
effect such a miracle.
Madame de Belleville proposed a walk in the garden, where divers games
had been arranged for the amusement of the company; and she set the
example by leading the ladies thither. The ex-vivandière seized the
opportunity to say to her hostess in an undertone:
“My dear and lovely Madame de Belleville, is it true that your husband
has discovered the secret of divining a woman’s age and telling it at
once, simply by examining her corsets?”
“Oh! madame, who can have told you such a thing?” said Thélénie,
laughing heartily; “and how could you believe it? Who has been telling
you this fairy tale?”
“Monsieur Jarnouillard told it to us as a positive fact; Monsieur de
Belleville is to make his experiments during dinner.”
“Ha! ha! what an excellent joke!”
“Jarnouillard!--Come here a moment. From whom did you get this story
concerning Monsieur de Belleville’s secret relative to women’s ages?”
The lank, yellow, ugly miser looked around and pointed to Freluchon,
crying:
“From that young man from Paris over there.”
“Oh! then I am not surprised,” said Thélénie; “that is Monsieur
Freluchon; his one delight is to laugh and make jokes.”
“I call it very ridiculous!” said Madame Droguet.
Thélénie went up to the diminutive young man and bestowed a gracious
smile on him.
“You caused those ladies a terrible fright, Monsieur Freluchon!” she
said.
“I, madame? how so?”
“By making them believe that my husband has a secret method of telling
all their ages.”
“Isn’t it true? Isn’t that what Cha--that your husband guesses?”
“No; it’s the age of trees, not of women.”
“Frankly, I thought that it was much more agreeable to investigate the
age of the fair sex! I should never have imagined that my friend Cha--de
Belleville would have taken an interest in any other study. Excuse the
mistake--it is quite natural.”
“Did Monsieur Edmond Didier come with you?”
“No, madame.”
“Shall we see him this evening?”
“I think so--unless he cannot make up his mind to quit his love-making;
for he is passionately in love, you know--the dear fellow!”
Thélénie with difficulty repressed a nervous gesture; but she found it
more difficult to mask the threatening expression which passed over her
face and which Freluchon did not fail to observe, although she affected
to smile as she murmured:
“Yes, so I have been told. But Monsieur Edmond has been in love so
often! it is never a serious matter with him.”
“It is true,” said Freluchon, playing with his switch, “that I have
known him to have love-affairs which lasted only a short time. But this
time it is a genuine passion, a sincere attachment, for he expects to
marry his love very soon.”
“Oh! he says that, but he will think twice before doing it.”
“Why so? Mademoiselle Agathe is a charming girl; she is bright and
talented; she has an equable, sweet disposition, and much charm.”
“Ha! ha! ha! what an eloquent portrait! Look out! One would think that
you too were in love with the young lady.”
“Isn’t she the girl who lives with that other woman in the Courtivaux
house?” said Madame Droguet.
“As you very elegantly express it, madame,” Freluchon replied, “she is
that girl. By the way, I haven’t as yet seen any other girl in the
neighborhood.”
“But they say that those women----”
Thélénie hastily interrupted the giantess, whispering:
“Hush! not now! You can talk about her this evening--when the lover is
here!”
Then she hurried the ladies toward a part of the garden where a small
Théâtre de Guignol[C] had been set up, calling:
[C] A sort of Punch and Judy show.
“Come, mesdames, come; we have a marionette theatre here, and I believe
the performance is going to begin.”
Freluchon remained where he stood, looking after Thélénie and saying to
himself:
“I can’t get it out of my head that that woman is meditating some dirty,
spiteful trick, which she means to play on Edmond. I am sorry I urged
him to come to this affair. But still a man should never be afraid of
such women; if this one should become too impertinent I will Chamoureau
her till her head swims. This Baron von Schtapelmerg has the look of a
genuine recruiting officer.--Ah! I see yonder, among those young men
from Paris, a former travelling salesman, who, if I remember aright,
used to speak German perfectly. I must put him in communication with
Monsieur Thousand Sauerkrauts!”
And Freluchon walked toward the young man in question and shook hands
with him. Then he passed his arm through his, and, as if by accident,
took up a position with him beside Croque, who, in common with a large
majority of the guests, had stopped in front of the canvas theatre
commonly called: _Théâtre de Guignol_.
XIX
THÉÂTRE DE GUIGNOL.--A SCIENTIFIC DISCOVERY.
There was quite a large gathering in front of the little canvas
structure. The ladies were seated on chairs and most of the men stood
behind them.
Mademoiselle Héloïse was one of the audience; when she caught sight of
Croque, whom she recognized at once, she nudged Thélénie and whispered:
“Why, that man is the one----”
“He’s a German baron; don’t forget that!” was the beautiful brunette’s
reply; and the words were accompanied by such a meaning glance that
Héloïse instantly understood that she was not to recognize the
gentleman.
The scene between Polichinelle and the devil had just begun; the theme
was about the same as usual; the men who work the marionettes follow too
closely in the beaten track.
The devil tries to tempt Polichinelle, who thrashes the devil. The
company considered that the devil was entirely too good a fellow and
submitted to his thrashing altogether too readily.
“This Guignol isn’t very good, is he?” said Freluchon to his neighbor,
Croque.
“No, he don’t say enough funny things, ten thousand kirschwassers! if I
was inside there, I’d give you something a little better seasoned!”
“Well, baron, why don’t you go under the canvas and play a few scenes
for us; I am sure that you would be much more amusing.”
“Oh, no! I wouldn’t dare; I might let out something altogether too free.
I don’t know French well enough.”
“Pardieu! here’s a gentleman whom you will be glad to meet; he will talk
German with you. Monsieur Courty, you speak German readily, do you not?”
“Ja! ja!” replied the young salesman, “as readily as French.”
“Very good; pray talk a little with the Baron von Schtapelmerg; he will
be overjoyed to have an opportunity to converse in his native tongue.”
Far from being overjoyed at the prospect of speaking German, Croque made
a wry face, twisted his moustache and tried to go away; but Monsieur
Courty was already by his side and was addressing him in German.
“_Gut! gut! tarteiff!_ certainly I agree with you,” muttered the
pretended baron, shaking his head.
The young man stared at him in amazement and repeated his remark.
Croque, seeing that he had made an inconsequent reply, exclaimed:
“What devilish jargon is this you’re talking? I don’t understand a word
of it!”
“Why, it’s the purest German, monsieur--the most ordinary words.”
“I beg pardon! I’m from Bavaria and I only speak Bavarian.”
“I have stayed a long while in Bavaria, monsieur, and the people there
speak exactly as I just spoke to you.”
“Then, monsieur, the language must have changed since I have been in
France.”
“This fellow is no more a Bavarian than you are,” said Monsieur Courty
to Freluchon; “and, more than that, he doesn’t know a single word of
German.”
“I suspected as much! that’s why I asked you to speak to him in that
language.”
At that moment the company began to laugh and applaud, because a young
man from among the guests had taken charge of the marionettes. The idea
was heartily welcomed; everyone was anxious to pass judgment on the
talent of the gentlemen present, and each one in turn was requested to
manipulate Guignol’s characters.
When Freluchon’s turn came, he passed under the canvas, and began by
exhibiting Polichinelle.
* * * * *
POLICHINELLE.--Sapristi! I am the happiest of men; I have made my
fortune! I have inherited wealth! I have my pile! When I hadn’t a sou, I
was as stupid as a goose, and no one looked at me. I could not make a
conquest! No one would give me credit! I had holes in my breeches, the
girls all thought me hideous, and my doctor always said to me: “You’re
not sick; go to the devil!”
To-day, what a difference! I am witty; I can’t open my mouth without
being applauded; people often laugh at my jokes even before I’ve made
them. All the women ogle me; they think me as handsome as Apollo; if I
tear a hole in my breeches, all the girls offer to patch it, and my
doctor pays me two or three visits a day, assuring me every time that
there’s something wrong with my insides.
But that is not all! I am married! I have married a magnificent woman,
and all my friends are overjoyed, because they already knew my wife
intimately, the result being that they’re perfectly at home in our
house; it’s filled with them all the time. To be sure, there are some of
them who look like pickpockets, knaves, swindlers, skinflints. But if
one never entertained any but honest folk, one would see so little
company!----
But here is monsieur le commissaire, I think; what has he come here for?
THE MAGISTRATE.--Have I the honor of speaking to Monsieur Polichinelle?
POLICHINELLE.--No, monsieur le commissaire, my name is no longer
Polichinelle; that name was good enough when I had no money, when I was
a poor pedestrian, a nobody, in fact. But now that I have a carriage, I
call myself Monsieur de la Carrossière. That’s a name worthy to ride in
a fine turn-out.
THE MAGISTRATE.--I beg pardon, Monsieur Polichinelle----
POLICHINELLE.--De la Carrossière, I told you.
THE MAGISTRATE.--You can’t change your name as you do your trousers.
First of all, you must have the right to.
POLICHINELLE--_aside_.--Where in the devil do they raise magistrates of
this sort! Ah! I know; I must grease his paw.--_Aloud._--Monsieur le
commissaire, if I should offer you this gold five-franc piece to call me
De la Carrossière----
THE MAGISTRATE.--What’s this! You try to corrupt an officer of the law!
You are a rascal! a scoundrel! an impertinent fellow!
POLICHINELLE.--I won’t do it again, monsieur le commissaire.
THE MAGISTRATE.--Your wife and a ci and a ça!
POLICHINELLE.--A _scie_[D]; that may be, monsieur le commissaire; but as
to a ça--I don’t believe a word of it.
[D] Slang for _wife_; pronounced like _ci_.
THE MAGISTRATE.--I have come to warn you concerning her disorderly life.
POLICHINELLE.--You needn’t have put yourself out for that, monsieur le
commissaire.
THE MAGISTRATE.--Every night she comes home with two lovers.
POLICHINELLE.--Impossible, monsieur le commissaire! I always wait for
her in the concierge’s lodge; she comes home alone.
THE MAGISTRATE.--She conceals her lovers under her hoop-skirt, monsieur.
POLICHINELLE.--Oh! mon Dieu! what do you tell me, monsieur le
commissaire! and she talks of wearing a steel skirt now in addition!
Does the woman propose to smuggle a whole regiment into my house?
* * * * *
Thélénie, not finding the scene to her taste, rose hurriedly, saying:
“It seems to me, mesdames, that we have had enough of the marionettes;
there are other amusements awaiting us in the garden, and it will not be
long before dinner.”
Everybody followed the hostess with alacrity. The Théâtre de Guignol was
deserted, and Monsieur Courty said to Freluchon when he put his head out
over the canvas:
“There’s no one here, my dear fellow; you have emptied the house--_fait
four_.”
“On the contrary, I have fired my shot--_fait feu_.”
The wooden horses, the Egyptian bird, the swings, the little Russian
mountains and other diversions engaged the attention of the company
until dinner was announced.
The table was laid in an enormous tent which had been pitched for that
purpose in the garden, and which was large enough to contain all the
guests.
Croque had sedulously avoided Freluchon since the latter had introduced
him to the man who spoke German. But when they repaired to the table,
the little man succeeded in obtaining a seat next the _soi-disant_
baron. The latter made a slight grimace when he saw who his neighbor
was; but Freluchon at once said to him:
“I fixed it so as to sit by you at table; that was rather agreeable on
my part, eh, baron?”
“It was exceedingly amiable of you!”
“I know that you’re a jolly buck; we’ll drink hard and straight.”
“I’ve promised not to drink to-day.”
“What’s that? what did you do that for? Suppose you should get a little
tight! in the country one can let himself go.”
“At supper, I don’t say no, we will see; but I propose to keep my senses
now.”
“Do you think there’ll be a supper?”
“I am sure of it.”
“Do you know that this is a magnificent affair--this fête of Monsieur
and Madame de Belleville’s?”
“Yes, it will cost them a pile.”
“What did you say?”
“I say that this is famous madeira, ten thousand _bouffardes_!”
“As I am not afraid of getting a little started, I am going to fill up
again.”
“Cristi! damn the odds! I’ll take another glass, too.”
“It’s no use for you to try to hold back, my buck,” thought Freluchon,
as he refilled Croque’s glass; “I mean for you to be as agreeable
to-night as you were last night.”
Seizing an opportunity when the conversation flagged a little, Doctor
Antoine took the floor.
“This charming banquet,” he began, “which recalls the famous feasts of
Lucullus, so often cited for their sumptuousness, this superb banquet, I
say, is to be made still more memorable by the announcement of a
scientific discovery--a most interesting discovery--which our host has
made, and which he has promised to communicate to us.”
“Hear! hear!” cried Freluchon, “we call for the discovery; it concerns
the age of trees, I understand.”
“Is it really the age of trees?” inquired Madame Droguet with an anxious
glance at the doctor.
“Why, yes, my dear lady; pray be calm! there has never been a question
of anything else.”
Everybody united in begging Chamoureau to keep his promise by making
known his discovery. Even Thélénie said to him:
“Come, speak up, monsieur; you see that everybody is waiting for you.”
Chamoureau felt it incumbent upon him to rise, so that he might be heard
more distinctly; and having bowed to right and left, as if he were going
to propose a toast, he began:
“Long ago I noticed----”
“I say! I know that song,” muttered Freluchon, as Chamoureau paused to
cough; “is that his discovery?”
Having succeeded in clearing his throat, Chamoureau continued:
“Long ago I noticed that a person, as he looked at a tree, would say: ‘I
wonder how old it is!’ Then he would proceed to make figures according
to its girth and the wrinkles of its bark, and make an approximate
estimate; but no one was ever certain. It occurred to me that it would
be no less useful than agreeable to be able to tell the age of a tree
instantly, simply by looking at it.”
“It would be admirable!” said the doctor.
“Very interesting,” said Monsieur Remplumé.
“Very valuable for dealers in wood,” said Monsieur Jarnouillard.
“At last, messieurs, after long consideration and profound study, I have
found a method to put an end to all uncertainty in that respect.”
“Ah! let us hear the method.”
“Hush, messieurs! silence! let us listen.”
“Let us not lose a word.”
“Messieurs, this is what must be done: whenever anyone plants a tree, he
must have ready a small piece of wood or zinc--perhaps zinc would be
preferable--and on this sheet of zinc, which is to be nailed to the
tree, will be carved the year, month and day of the planting; then it
seems to me, it will be very easy to tell the age of a tree at a
glance.”
Applause, intermingled with much stifled laughter, arose on all sides.
“Bravo! bravo!”
“Honor to Monsieur de Belleville!”
“This discovery does him great credit!”
“It’s as simple as good-day; and no one ever thought of it!”
“Here’s to Monsieur de Belleville’s scientific discovery!”
Freluchon rose and said:
“I propose to add hereafter to the name of Monsieur de Belleville that
of Silvestre, derived from _Sylvestris_, which means woods, trees,
forests. Let us drink then to the health of Monsieur de
Belleville-Silvestre! the grateful stumps!”
“What do you mean by stumps?”
“I mean, in the name of the grateful stumps.”
Chamoureau was radiant; he had no suspicion that he was being laughed
at, and received in all seriousness the compliments that were paid him.
But Thélénie, who was less entertained by this comedy, soon said to him:
“I believe, monsieur, that you informed me that you had something else
in store--something that would be agreeable to me. I trust that it has
nothing to do with trees?”
“No, my dear love, it relates to a matter in which you alone are
interested. You gave me two commissions a few days ago: first, to find
out whom a dog belonged to that had had the effrontery to bark at you. I
have at last discovered his owner; that savage beast, which, by the way,
is unlawfully at large, as he isn’t muzzled, belongs to a man who lives
on an estate called the Tower, near Gournay. This man, who is looked
upon as----”
“Enough, monsieur; you tell me nothing new; I know perfectly well who
owns that dog.”
“Nevertheless, I propose to go and tell him he must muzzle his
Newfoundland--they say it’s a Newfoundland--and to-morrow----”
“No, monsieur, it is quite unnecessary for you to take that step. I have
already seen that gentleman, and he has apologized to me.”
“Oh! if he has apologized to you, that makes a difference.”
“What! my dear madame, have you seen the bear of the Tower?” Madame
Droguet asked Thélénie.
“Yes, I met him and spoke to him.”
“It seems that the man is becoming less uncivilized; probably since he
has been in love with that Dalmont woman.”
“What do you say?”
“I say that this Monsieur Paul passes every evening now with that
creature; everybody knows it, it is getting to be a public scandal.
Isn’t that so, Monsieur Luminot?”
Luminot, who was sitting between the two ladies and was the only person
who had heard this little _aside_, was busily stuffing himself with
truffles, and contented himself with mumbling:
“It’s perfectly scandalous.--They’re from Périgord! what a perfume!”
“Hush! hush!” said Thélénie; “we will return to this subject this
evening. My husband has something else to tell me.”
Chamoureau was in fact waiting until his wife should be ready to listen
to him.
“Now, my dear love, as the dog is out of the way, we will go on to the
case of the small boy.--You must know, ladies and gentlemen, that there
is a small boy, a little vagabond, a very bad boy, so it seems, who had
the audacity to throw stones at my wife.”
“I’ll bet that it was the lost child!” said Doctor Antoine.
“Just so, doctor; it was the lost child. But I did not know it; madame
had instructed me to find out whom the little rascal belonged to--he is
about eight years old--in order to warn his parents to look after him a
little better. I succeeded at last in finding out whom the rascal
belonged to--that is to say, whom he lives with,--for nobody knows whom
he belongs to, and that is why he is called the lost child.--It’s rather
an interesting story; the nurse told me everything--for I have seen the
nurse. I will tell it to you; it would be a good subject for a
melodrama.”
As this promised to be more interesting than the age of trees, everybody
listened attentively to Chamoureau; even Thélénie herself was secretly
impatient to hear what he had to say.
XX
THE NURSE.--THE QUARREL
“First of all, ladies and gentlemen, you must know that this nurse does
not belong to this part of the country; she used to live with her
husband at Morfontaine, a charming village near Ermenonville.”
“Morfontaine!” cried Thélénie, turning pale.
“Yes, my dear love, she lived at Morfontaine; her husband was a laboring
man--I forgot to ask her in what trade; but they weren’t rich, so that
the woman, having become a mother, conceived the idea of going to Paris
to get a nursling. Her husband approved of the idea, so Jacqueline
Treillard--that is the woman’s name--arrived in Paris one fine morning.”
“The woman’s name is Jacqueline, you say?”
“Yes, my dear love, Jacqueline Treillard; but you will see how dramatic
and romantic the story grows.”
Thélénie’s brow grew dark, when she acquired the certainty that it was
her own story that was to be told; but she strove to conceal her emotion
and swallowed a glass of champagne frappé, saying:
“Well, monsieur, go on; your story has a romantic beginning.”
“It bears much resemblance to a romance.--Well, there was Jacqueline in
Paris; she had no sooner left the stage than she met a woman, who said
to her: ‘You are looking for a child to nurse; I have just what you
want--the child of a baroness, who will pay you handsomely.’ Jacqueline
was delighted and accepted the proposal; the woman took her to a house
where she found a lady--a very beautiful lady, it seems,--and a cradle
with a new-born child in it. They agreed on a price--thirty francs a
month. This Baronne de Mortagne--I forgot to tell you that this lady
called herself the Baronne de Mortagne. Does anyone here know a baroness
of that name?”
Everyone answered negatively, and Freluchon said: