For five minutes I did not say a word to Nicette. Madame Jérôme's blow
had cooled my zeal in the girl's cause very materially. I could not
forbear reflecting upon the various events of the evening, and I seemed
to detect therein a fatality which made me pay dearly for all my
attempts at seduction.
For following a working girl, the tip of whose finger I had not been
allowed to squeeze, I had been spattered with filth on Rue des Rosiers;
for playing the gallant and making myself agreeable to a
_petite-maîtresse_ who bestowed divers exceedingly soft glances upon me,
I had fallen in with an infernal cab driver, who had driven me to a
strange quarter of the city, a long way from my own home; and lastly,
for consenting to act as the protector of a young flower girl, whom I
undertook to reconcile with her mother, I had received a well-aimed blow
on the head. This last catastrophe seemed to me rank injustice on the
part of Providence; for to take Nicette home to Madame Jérôme was a very
kind action. What nonsense it is to talk about a benefaction never
being wasted! But my cheek began to burn less hotly, and my ill humor
became less pronounced. It was not Nicette's fault that I had received
that blow. I determined to make the best of my predicament and to
console the poor child, whose distress was much augmented by this last
accident.
"You are right, Nicette; your mother is very unkind."
"Oh, yes, monsieur! What did I tell you? I am awful sorry for what
happened to you; but if you hadn't been there, I should have been beaten
much worse than that."
"In that case, it is clear that all is for the best."
"My mother's very quick!"
"That is true."
"She has a light hand."
"I found it rather heavy!"
"She cuffs me for a _yes_ or a _no_; but it's worse than ever, since I
refused Beauvisage. Ah! I am very unhappy! It wouldn't take much to make
me jump into the Canal de l'Ourcq."
"Come, come, be calm; the most urgent thing now is to find out where you
can go to pass the night, as your mother really refuses to admit you.
Have you any relations in this quarter?"
"Mon Dieu! no, not a soul; I have an aunt in Faubourg Saint-Denis; but
she wouldn't take me in--she'd be too much afraid of having a row with
my mother."
"Madame Jérôme is a general terror, I see."
"Alas! yes."
"Where will you sleep, then?"
"At your house, monsieur, with your permission; or else in the street."
There was in Nicette's suggestion such childlike innocence, or such
shameless effrontery, that I could not restrain a start of surprise. It
is difficult to believe in the innocence and naïveté of a flower girl.
And yet, in her language there was something so sincere, so persuasive;
and on the other hand, her eyes, whose expression was so soft and tender
when they were not bathed in tears, her little retroussé nose, the way
in which she had seized my arm, and, lastly, this barefaced proposal to
pass the night in a young man's apartment--all these things threw my
mind into a state of uncertainty to which I tried in vain to put an end.
However, I was obliged to make up my mind. Nicette was gazing at me,
awaiting my answer; her eyes implored me. My heart was weak.
"Come with me," I said at last.
"Ah! monsieur, how good you are! how I thank you!"
Again she took possession of my arm, and we started for Rue
Saint-Florentin. This time we made the journey in silence. I was musing
upon the singularity of the adventure that had happened to me. The idea
of my taking a street corner huckster home with me, to sleep in my
rooms! And remember, reader, that I lived on Rue Saint-Florentin, near
the Tuileries; you will divine, from that detail, that I was something
of a swell, but a swell who followed grisettes. Oh! it was simply as a
pastime. I was not in the least conceited, I beg you to believe; and if
an impulse which I could not control drew me constantly toward the fair
sex, and led me to overlook rank and social station, I may say with
Boileau:
"'Twas destiny's fault!"
But I was not one of those persons, either, who defy all the
proprieties; I did not wish to be looked upon, in the house in which I
lived, as a man who consorted with the first woman he chanced to meet;
and in that house, as everywhere, there were malicious tongues! I had,
in particular, a certain neighbor. Ah!----
It was necessary, therefore, to keep Nicette out of sight. I hoped that
that would be an easy matter, so far as going in was concerned. It was
at least one o'clock in the morning, and my concierge would be in bed;
when that was the case, if anyone knocked, she simply inquired, from her
bed: "Who's that?" and then pulled the cord, without disturbing herself
further. So that Nicette could go up to my room unseen. But as to her
going away the next day! Madame Dupont, my concierge, was inquisitive
and talkative; she was like all concierges--I need say no more. The
whole household would hear of the adventure; I should be unmercifully
laughed at; it would be known in society. It was most embarrassing; but
I could not leave Nicette in the street. Poor child! the watch would
find her and take her to the police station, as a vagrant! And I
honestly believed that she was a respectable girl; I almost believed
that she was innocent; however, that would appear in due time.
We crossed the bridges, followed the quays, and at last drew near our
destination. Nicette did not walk so rapidly as at first; she was tired
out by her evening's work; and I--well, I leave it to you to guess!
"Here we are!" I said at last.
"I'm glad of it; for I'm awful tired."
"And I, too, I assure you. I must knock."
"Oh! what a beautiful street! and what a fine house!"
"You mustn't make any noise when we go upstairs, Nicette; you mustn't
speak!"
"No, monsieur, never fear; I don't want to wake anybody up."
"Sh! The door is open."
Madame Dupont asked who was there; I replied, and we entered the house;
the hall light was out and it was very dark; that was what I wanted.
"Give me your hand," I whispered to Nicette, "and let me lead you; but,
above all things, no noise."
"All right, monsieur."
I led her to the staircase, which we ascended as softly as possible. I
wished with all my heart that we were safely in my rooms. If anyone
should open a door, I could not conceal Nicette; I had not even a cloak
to throw over her, for it was summer.
I lived on the fourth floor; to obtain a desirable bachelor's apartment
on Rue Saint-Florentin, one had to pay a dear price, even if it were
very high. On the same landing with me lived a curious mortal of some
thirty-six to forty years, whose face would have been insignificant but
for the fact that his absurd airs and pretensions made it comical. He
was of medium height, and strove to assume an agile and sprightly gait
and bearing, despite an embonpoint which became more pronounced every
day. He had four thousand francs a year, which left him free to devote
himself to the business of other people. Moreover, he was poet, painter,
musician; combining all the talents, as he said and believed, but in
reality a butt for the ridicule of both men and women, especially the
latter; but he insinuated himself everywhere, none the less, attended
every party, every ball, every concert; because in society everybody is
popular who arouses laughter, whether it be by his wit or by his
absurdities.
We had just arrived at my landing, when Monsieur Raymond suddenly opened
his door and appeared before us in his shirt and cotton nightcap, with a
candle in one hand, and a key in the other.
I did not know whether to step forward or to turn back. Monsieur Raymond
stared with all his eyes, and Nicette laughed aloud.
I was determined that he should not, at all events, have time to
scrutinize the girl; I fumbled hastily in my pocket for my key, but it
was entangled in my handkerchief; I could not get it out, I could not
find the lock; the more I tried to hurry, the less I succeeded; it
seemed that the devil was taking a hand!
Monsieur Raymond, observing my embarrassment, walked toward me with a
mischievous smile and held his light under my nose, saying:
"Allow me to give you some light, neighbor; you can't see, you are at
one side of the lock."
I would gladly have given him the blow that Madame Jérôme had given me!
but I realized that I must restrain myself; so I thanked him, unlocked
my door, and entered, pushing Nicette before me. I closed the door,
paying no heed to Monsieur Raymond's offer to light my candle for me.
But suddenly an idea came into my mind; I took a candle, opened my door
again, and ran after Raymond, seizing him by his shirt just as he was
entering a certain place. I put my finger to my lips, with a mysterious
air.
"What's the matter?" queried Raymond, extricating his shirt from my
hand.
"Don't mention the fact that you saw Agathe with me to-night."
"A--Agathe! What do you say? Why, you are joking!"
"We have just come from a masquerade; she disguised herself for it,
and----"
"Do you mean to say that there are masquerade balls in July?"
"There are if anyone chooses to give one; this was for somebody's
birthday."
"But that girl----"
"She is well disguised, isn't she? I'll bet that you didn't recognize
her at the first glance. The costume--the rouge--they change one's whole
appearance."
"Faith! I confess that I didn't see even the slightest resemblance."
"I rely on your discretion. To-morrow I will tell you what my motive is;
you will laugh with me at the adventure. Au revoir, neighbor;
good-night! Allow me to light my candle, now."
"Much pleasure to you, Monsieur Dorsan!"
I left Raymond and returned to my room. My neighbor was not fully
persuaded that it was Agathe whom he had seen; but I had at least, by my
stratagem, reserved for myself an answer to his gossip; and if he should
talk, I could easily persuade people that he was asleep and had not seen
things as they were.
"But," you will say, "by that falsehood you destroyed another woman's
reputation. Who is this Agathe whom you put forward so inconsiderately?"
This Agathe is my last mistress, with whom I had broken only a short
time before; she is a milliner, very lively, very alluring, and very
wanton! She had sometimes done me the honor to come to me to ask
hospitality for the night; my neighbor had often seen her going in and
out of my room, so that once more or less would do her no harm. Her
reputation was in no danger, as you see.
Now that I have told you about Mademoiselle Agathe, with whom Monsieur
Raymond did not know that I had fallen out, not being in my confidence,
I return to Nicette, who is in my apartment, waiting for me. It was
half-past one in the morning; but there is time for a great deal between
that hour and daybreak! My heart beat fast! Faith! I had no idea what
the night would bring to pass.
V