At that time (George Kervelen said) I was living in furnished lodgings
in the Rue des Saints-Pères.
When my father had made up his mind that I should go to Paris to
continue my law studies, there had been a long discussion about settling
everything. My allowance had been fixed at first at two thousand five
hundred francs, but my poor mother was so anxious, that she said to my
father that if I spent my money badly I might not take enough to eat,
and then my health would suffer, and so it was settled that a
comfortable boarding-house should be found for me, and that the amount
should be paid to the proprietor himself, or herself, every month.
Some of our neighbors told us of a certain Mme. Kergaran, a native of
Brittany, who took in boarders, and so my father arranged matters by
letter with this respectable person, at whose house I and my luggage
arrived one evening.
Mme. Kergaran was a woman of about forty. She was very stout, had a
voice like a drill-sergeant, and decided everything in a very abrupt
manner. Her house was narrow, with only one window opening on to the
street on each story, which rather gave it the appearance of a ladder of
windows, or better, perhaps, of a slice of a house sandwiched in between
two others.
The landlady lived on the first floor with her servant, the kitchen and
dining-room were on the second, and four boarders from Brittany lived
on the third and fourth, and I had two rooms on the fifth.
A little dark corkscrew staircase led up to these attics. All day long
Mme. Kergaran was up and down these stairs like a captain on board ship.
Ten times a day she would go into each room, noisily superintending
everything, seeing that the beds were properly made, the clothes well
brushed, if the attendance were all that it should be; in a word, she
looked after her boarders like a mother, and better than a mother.
I soon made the acquaintance of my four fellow-countrymen. Two were
medical and two were law students, but all impartially endured the
landlady's despotic yoke. They were as frightened of her as a boy
robbing an orchard would be of a rural policeman.
I, however, immediately felt that I wished to be independent; it is my
nature to rebel. I declared at once that I meant to come in at whatever
time I liked, for Mme. Kergaran had fixed twelve o'clock at night as the
limit. On hearing this she looked at me for a few moments, and then
said:
"It is quite impossible; I cannot have Annette awakened at any hour of
the night. You can have nothing to do out-of-doors at such a time."
I replied firmly that, according to the law, she was obliged to open the
door for me at any time.
"If you refuse," I said, "I shall get a policeman to witness the fact,
and go and get a bed at some hotel, at your expense, in which I shall be
fully justified. You will, therefore, be obliged either to open the door
for me or to get rid of me. Do which you please."
I laughed in her face as I told her my conditions. She could not speak
for a moment for surprise, then she tried to negotiate, but I was firm,
and she was obliged to yield; and so it was agreed that I should have a
latchkey, on my solemn undertaking that no one else should know it.
My energy made such a wholesome impression on her that from that time
she treated me with marked favor; she was most attentive, and even
showed me a sort of rough tenderness which was not at all unpleasing.
Sometimes when I was in a jovial mood I would kiss her by surprise, if
only for the sake of getting the box on the ears which she gave me
immediately afterwards. When I managed to duck my head quickly enough,
her hand would pass over me as swiftly as a ball, and I would run away
laughing, while she would call after me:
"Oh! you wretch, I will pay you out for that."
However, we soon became real friends.
It was not long before I made the acquaintance of a girl who was
employed in a shop, and whom I constantly met. You know what such sort
of love affairs are in Paris. One fine day, going to a lecture, you meet
a work-girl going to work arm-in-arm with a friend. You look at her and
feel that pleasant little shock which the eye of some women gives you.
The next day at the same time, going through the same street, you meet
her again, and the next, and the succeeding days. At last you speak, and
the love affair follows its course just like an illness.
Well, by the end of three weeks I was on that footing with Emma which
precedes a fall. The fall would indeed have taken place much sooner had
I known where to bring it about. The girl lived at home, and utterly
refused to go to an hotel. I did not know how to manage, but at last I
took the desperate resolve to take her to my room some night at about
eleven o'clock, under the pretense of giving her a cup of tea. Mme.
Kergaran always went to bed at ten, so that we could get in by means of
my latchkey without exciting any attention, and go down again in an hour
or two in the same way.
After a good deal of entreaty on my part, Emma accepted my invitation.
I did not spend a very pleasant day, for I was by no means easy in my
mind. I was afraid of complications, of a catastrophe, of some scandal.
At night I went into a café, and drank two cups of coffee, and three or
four glasses of cognac, to give me courage, and when I heard the clock
strike half-past ten, I went slowly to the place of meeting, where she
was already waiting for me. She took my arm in a coaxing manner, and we
set off slowly towards my lodgings. The nearer we got to the door the
more nervous I got, and I thought to myself--"If only Mme. Kergaran is
in bed already."