The old mulatto wended his way slowly toward the heights of Chaillot,
until he reached the church of that poor, populous _faubourg_.
To his astonishment, he found the church in a blaze of lights. Through
the wide open door could be seen the sanctuary and altar, brilliantly
illuminated with tapers and decorated with flowers, as though in
anticipation of some imposing ceremony, while grouped in the street and
surrounding windows, a throng of curiosity seekers and belated
wayfarers excitedly discussed the approaching event.
"They cannot delay much longer," observed one.
"No, for it is nearly midnight," rejoined another.
"Rather a strange hour for a marriage."
"Undoubtedly; but with such a dowry one can afford peculiar things."
"Who is to be married at this odd hour?" questioned the old man from
the last speaker.
"You must be a stranger in this part of the city," replied the man
addressed, "or you would know all about the _six marriages_, which for
four years have taken place on the night of May 11 and 12."
"May 11 and 12," repeated the old man, with a start. "But why do you
call it the _six marriages_?"
"Because each year six young girls, with a dowry of ten thousand francs
each, are married here."
"A dowry of ten thousand francs! And from whom?"
"From a worthy man who died five years ago, whose name is as popular
and as reverentially blessed in Chaillot as the _Petit manteau bleu_ in
Paris."
"And who is this worthy man, in whose name these young girls are so
generously dowered?" pursued the old mulatto, with a slight tremor in
his voice.
"He was called Père Richard," returned the man in a deferential tone.
"And why does this Père Richard do so much good after his death?"
continued the old man, making an effort to conceal his emotion.
"Simply because this was his idea, and because his son religiously
carries out his last wishes," explained the man. "And everybody can
tell you what a noble man M. Louis Richard is. Himself, his wife and
child live on three or four thousand francs a year, at the most,
although he must have inherited a large fortune from his father to
enable him to bestow annually a dowry of ten thousand francs each on
six young girls, not counting the expenses of the 'school' and the
'House of Providence.'"
"Excuse the curiosity of a stranger; but you speak of a school and--"
"Yes; the school is directed by Madame Mariette, M. Louis Richard's
wife. The school was founded for the benefit of twenty-five boys and
as many girls, who remain there until they have attained the age of
twelve, when they begin their apprenticeship. The children are fed,
clothed and educated and receive ten sous a day. In this manner,
parents are induced to send them to school instead of forcing them to
work in shops."
"And the school is under the direction of M. Louis Richard's wife?'
"Yes; she claims to have suffered cruelly through her own want of
education when she was only a poor shop girl, and she is particularly
happy in the thought that she may save others the sufferings she
endured."
"You also spoke of another institution?"
"That house was founded for the benefit of twelve poor, crippled women
who cannot work. It is under the direction of Madame Lacombe."
"Who is Madame Lacombe?"
"Madame Richard's godmother, a good, worthy soul, who lost one hand
years ago. She is the personification of gentleness and patience.
She can truly sympathize with the crippled women under her charge, for
she says that her goddaughter and herself often suffered the pangs of
hunger before the former's marriage to M. Richard. But here is the
wedding procession."
The old man turned to the street and saw a gay cortege approaching, led
by Louis, with Madame Lacombe on his arm, closely followed by Mariette
leading a pretty boy of four years by the hand.
Madame Lacombe was totally unrecognisable. Her face, formerly so
haggard and worn, was the picture of health, while her countenance
beamed with happiness and benevolence; her silver white hair was
smoothly brushed back beneath a dainty lace cap, and her silk dress was
half concealed by a beautiful cashmere shawl--a tasty toilet which gave
her a most dignified and imposing appearance.
Louis Richard's features bore an expression of grave and reserved
felicity, and he seemingly realized the full grandeur of the duties he
had imposed upon himself; while Mariette, who had grown still prettier
in this beneficial atmosphere, distinguished herself by that air of
sweet gravity so becoming to young mothers. In her legitimate pride,
she still retained the modest dress of her girlhood and wore the
coquettish little cap of the shop-girl; and Providence, no doubt,
rewarded her for her modesty, for she looked bewitchingly fresh and
pretty beneath the lace head-gear, with its knots of pale blue ribbon,
as she smiled sweetly on the blond rosy child at her side.
Next came six young girls, in white dresses and crowned with orange
blossoms, accompanied by their fiancés and relatives, all belonging to
the laboring class; then came the twenty-four couples united in the
four previous years, followed by the school children and the crippled
old women who had found refuge in the charitable institutions founded
with the miser's money.
The old mulatto gazed in silent reflection at the procession, while his
neighbors commented freely on the memorable event.
"They owe all this happiness to old Richard," he heard some one say.
"And to his son," added another voice.
"Undoubtedly; but the son would have been powerless without the
father's money."
"Do you know that more than a hundred and fifty persons assembled here
owe everything to the good old man?"
"Yes; and in the last four years, six or seven hundred persons must
have shared the benefits of the inheritance."
"And if M. Louis lives thirty years longer, the number will reach five
or six thousands--thousands saved from misery and crime, perhaps."
"You forget the children of these happily married couples, who will
have the advantages of education and good breeding procured by this
generous dowry."
"You are right; the good accomplished by old Richard is beyond
calculation. What a pity so few know how to spend their money!"
"Yes; but there are few such men as Richard and his son. But why are
you weeping?" concluded the speaker, turning suddenly toward the old
mulatto.
"The praises I hear on all sides of--of this Richard and his son, and
the sight of so much happiness causes me a strange emotion," explained
the old man.
"If you are interested in the ceremony, you may follow the cortege to
the _House of Providence_, my good man," returned his first informant,
as he moved toward the entrance of the church.
The old man stood motionless for a few moments, then slowly followed
the throng into the sacred edifice. Throughout the whole solemn
ceremony, he seemed plunged into a sort of ecstasy, as if a sudden
revelation had opened an immense, dazzling horizon, hitherto veiled to
his eyes. Burying his face in his hands, he sank into a deep
meditation from which he was aroused by the grave sonorous voice of the
officiating priest addressing the newly-married couples.
"And now that your union is consecrated by God," he was saying,
"continue the honest, laborious life which has been repaid by the
happiness you now enjoy; never forget that you owe this just
remuneration of your courage in adversity to a man gifted with the most
tender and generous affection for his brothers; for, faithful to his
duties as a Christian, he does not look upon himself as the master, but
as the dispenser of his riches. In giving M. Richard a son so worthy
of him, the Lord has recompensed that great man, and his memory shall
live amongst men. Your gratitude will create his immortality; his name
shall be blessed by you, by your children and your children's children;
the venerated name of M. Richard shall be engraved on your hearts as a
souvenir of rare virtue!"
A murmur of approbation greeted these words, drowning the stifled sobs
of the old mulatto whose face was still buried in his hands.
The ceremony was now over, and the noise and bustle of the dispersing
throng recalled him to himself. Rising from his knees, he hurried to
the door, where he stood, trembling in every limb, waiting for the
passage of the leading group in the procession.
As Louis Richard crossed the threshold, the old man's hand came in
contact with his own, causing him to turn in that direction. Seeing
the bowed head and shabby clothes of the stranger, the young man
slipped a gold coin between his fingers, saying kindly: "Take it, and
pray for Père Richard."
The old man eagerly grasped the coin, and raising it to his lips, burst
into tears. Then leaning once more on his cane, he slowly followed the
gay party.