and strutting about the room with it. "D'Allevard--just as if I were the
lord of the district; indeed I am--almost--and I hope that, thanks to
the baron, I shall soon be so altogether!"
"Put that down, monsieur; put it down somewhere!" madame cried to her
husband, who was so excited that he had no idea what he was doing. She
then ordered Lunel to give the messenger something to eat and drink,
and said to the latter that his master and his friend would be received
with the honors they deserved.
When the messenger had gone, Chambertin threw himself into an armchair,
and madame replaced her head on the pillow; but the letter they had
received made it impossible for them to think of sleep. Monsieur
Chambertin read it again. He was especially flattered by the title
_D'Allevard_.
"It's the name of the village," said madame.
"True; but by putting it after my name, it ennobles me."
"You know perfectly well, monsieur, that that's what everybody does in
Paris; aren't there two of our neighbors who call themselves by the name
of their town: Monsieur Gérard de Villers-Cotterets, and Monsieur Leroux
d'Ermenonville? Six months ago, I told you you ought to call yourself
Chambertin d'Allevard; but you never listen to me."
"My dear love, now that monsieur le baron has given me that title, I
certainly shall not give it up; and I shall never sign my name any other
way. To-morrow, wife, I give a party."
"I trust so, monsieur."
"Dinner, ball, concert, and fireworks. I believe no fireworks have ever
been seen in the neighborhood, and they'll produce a tremendous effect.
I shall invite all the best people among our neighbors."
"I'll have my hair dressed _à la_ Ferronnière; that's very becoming to
me."
"I'll have the whole estate illuminated."
"My dress with a train----"
"With colored lanterns."
"A pale blue girdle."
"Lamps in the courtyard----"
"My cherry-colored slippers."
"The largest I can find."
"A scarf."
"Festoons of flowers."
"My pearl necklace."
"And a fusillade!"
The landlord made up his account so that it came to just five hundred
francs, and monsieur le baron was entitled to no change. Any other than
Dubourg would have contested the charge of three hundred francs for
laming three or four wretched horses which were too old to draw the
plough; but he did not enjoy scrutinizing accounts; he contented himself
with ordering a neat tilbury for the morrow, and two of the landlord's
servants to represent his suite.
Dubourg then took cognizance of the contents of his cash-box; he found
himself the possessor of forty-five hundred francs; that was more than
he needed to win ten times as much. He trusted that the local
ironmasters would make up the sum that the chevalier and the count with
lace cuffs had filched from him.
The next day, about noon, Dubourg and Ménard prepared for their visit to
Allevard, where they planned to arrive for dinner. As the innkeeper had
been unable to find a tilbury in the city, his guests were obliged to be
content with a yellow char-à-bancs with two seats. Dubourg and Ménard
took their places on the first seat, and on the second they planted two
little scullery boys, swaddled in jackets and trousers taken from
different persons, and having on their heads old hunting-caps which came
down to their noses and gave them a decidedly foreign aspect. Dubourg
expressly enjoined upon them to pretend not to understand French, but
to confine themselves to making signs, so that they might pass for two
young Poles; and they solemnly promised to obey.
They set out, Dubourg driving; but although he had asked the host for
his best horses, he could not succeed in inducing them to gallop; he had
to be content with a very moderate trot, which necessarily delayed their
arrival. Ménard was afraid that they would dine without them, and
Dubourg was in despair because he could not enter Monsieur Chambertin's
domain with the speed of a locomotive.
It was half-past five when at last they descried the roofs of Allevard.
Dubourg exhausted himself trying to increase the speed of his horses. As
they drew near Monsieur Chambertin's house, in front of which there was
a large number of people, he said to Ménard:
"Poke them with your cane, so that we may drive up at a decent trot at
least."
As Ménard put out his arm to comply, they heard a great outcry of: "Here
they are! here they are!" Four musket-shots followed in rapid
succession, two violins and a clarinet executed the overture to _La
Caravane_; and the two nags, frightened by the reports and the music,
shied and dragged the char-à-bancs up a hillside to the right of the
road, instead of keeping on toward the house.
"This is charming, delightful!" cried Dubourg; while Ménard, who was
afraid of being overturned, exclaimed:
"Take care, monsieur le baron; our horses are running away!"
And Monsieur Chambertin, who had been waiting to illuminate since two
o'clock, said to his guests:
"See how well monsieur le baron drives; he went up that hill on purpose
to give us a specimen of his talent."
But, when coming down the hill again, the horses went much faster, and
at every instant the fragile carriage nearly overturned as it passed
over the stones or sank into ruts; Ménard trembled with fear, the two
jockeys cried out, and Dubourg said to them:
"Be still, you rascals! I told you not to talk French; don't be afraid,
I'll answer for everything."
The carriage went like the wind; luckily, they were then headed toward
the house; but instead of passing through the main gateway, the coursers
ran full tilt at the wall. The shock was so violent that the two jockeys
were thrown out on the grass. Dubourg jumped out, crying: "I will answer
for everything!" Ménard alone remained in his seat, as if he were glued
to it.
No one was injured. Dubourg went forward laughing to salute the company,
declaring that that was the usual way of alighting from a carriage in
Poland. Ménard, proud of having retained his seat, joined the party,
displaying his ruff; and the two scullions pointed to their buttocks,
without a word, when Lunel asked them if they were hurt.
Dubourg was welcomed most cordially. Monsieur Chambertin was in the
seventh heaven, for the baron pressed his hand and called him his dear
friend; Madame Chambertin was no less gratified, the illustrious
stranger having whispered as he saluted her: "You have not been out of
my mind one moment." And all the guests seemed overjoyed to be in the
company of a great noble, who did not put on airs at all, and made
everybody feel at ease.
Monsieur Chambertin had got together some forty persons: all the wealthy
landowners of the neighborhood, the mayor, the notary, the clerk of the
peace, ironmasters, and a few friends from Paris and Lyon--in short,
all those whom he deemed worthy to meet monsieur le baron.
They took their places at the table, Dubourg in the seat of honor at
madame's right, and Ménard, to his great delight, beside Monsieur
Fondant, who talked no more than before, but was very attentive to him
in the way of filling his glass and passing him food.
"I hope," said Chambertin, "that monsieur le baron will give us a few
days, and Monsieur Ménard as well."
"Yes," said Dubourg, "we have arranged to pass several days in this
delightful spot."
As he spoke, he touched Madame Chambertin's knee with his own, whereupon
she swallowed a chicken bone to cover an imprudent sigh. Ménard bowed,
and Chambertin rejoined:
"I have but one regret, and that is that you did not bring your friend
the Comte de--the Comte du--you know whom I mean."
"Oh! he's an original," said Dubourg; "he shuns society. I left him my
berlin and my servants, and brought only my two little Poles."
"Ah! they are Poles, are they? They are dapper little fellows; I took
them for Cossacks."
At that moment, Lunel appeared and informed Dubourg that his servants
were raising the deuce in the kitchen and refused to answer any
questions.
"Parbleu! I should think so! they don't understand French."
"Allow the baron's people to do as they choose," said Chambertin, "and
try to understand their signs."
"Very pretty signs they are," muttered Lunel; "they don't do anything
but stick their fingers in the sauces and wipe 'em on their breeches!"
The high spirits of Dubourg and the learned Ménard enlivened the whole
company. They talked and laughed and ate and drank. But whenever Dubourg
spoke, Chambertin looked about and said:
"Sh! let us listen to monsieur le baron."
At dessert, Monsieur Bidault proposed to sing; but Dubourg observed that
in good society it was no longer fashionable to sing, and Chambertin
imposed silence on the ex-notary.
"Singing isn't fashionable," he said; "what were you thinking about?"
But the corpulent Frossard was in the habit of singing, and he was not
at all abashed by what Chambertin said; whereupon the host, seeing that
he could not prevent him from singing his drinking-song, requested the
company to walk into the adjoining room, where the concert was about to
begin, hoping that the ironmaster's ditty would pass for an aria.
A lady and gentleman regaled the company with a piece for harp and
piano, with thirty-six variations. The mayor took his 'cello, and the
notary a violin; a horn was presented to Dubourg, who had said that he
played on all instruments, but who now declared that he could play only
the English horn, and passed the instrument to Ménard, forcing him into
a seat in front of a music stand. The tutor stared at him in amazement,
but he whispered in his ear:
"Just blow into it, and don't look embarrassed."
Ménard, who had not spared his host's wine at dinner, was not afraid of
anything; he took the horn and put the mouthpiece to his lips, blowing
with all his might and rolling his eyes. They began a trio, Dubourg
beating time. Whenever it was the horn's turn, not a sound was heard,
because, try as hard as he would, Ménard could not find the mouthpiece;
but Dubourg seemed content, and said, turning toward the company:
"I have never heard such sweet music! no one would believe that it was a
horn!"
Everybody applauded, and Ménard, after it was all over, said to himself:
"I knew how to play the horn, and I never suspected it!"
The concert came to an end at last; Dubourg suggested a game, and the
tables were soon arranged. Backgammon is not often played in a salon,
but Dubourg said that they played nothing else at the Polish court;
whereupon Monsieur Chambertin instantly produced a board, and declared
that within a week he would have four in his salon. Dubourg and Frossard
took their places, and Chambertin watched them play, although he did not
understand the game at all.
Dubourg was in luck; he urged his adversary to increase the stakes, and
tried to taunt him into doing so. He had won some twenty louis, when
there was a tremendous report in the garden.
Cries of: "It's the fireworks!" arose on all sides, and everybody
hurried into the garden.
"To the devil with the fireworks!" exclaimed Dubourg; "the dice are just
beginning to fall well for me!"
But he tried in vain to detain the ironmaster, who was determined to see
the fireworks; so Dubourg concluded to do as everybody else did.
He left the salon. The fireworks were at the end of the garden, and
Dubourg fell in with Madame Chambertin, who was coming to see what
monsieur le baron was doing, and, it may be, to seek an opportunity for
a tête-à-tête. Dubourg offered her his arm; he was in excellent
spirits, and, as he recalled the conversation under the table and the
stifled sighs, he reflected that he was to pass several days in the
house, and that he ought to show himself worthy of the welcome he had
received. These considerations led him to take a path which did not lead
to the place where the other guests were.
"Where are you taking me, pray?" madame asked, now and then. But Dubourg
replied:
"I don't know at all, but let us go on."
They soon came to a small summer-house, which was not lighted and had
but one window, a little farther from the ground than an ordinary
ground-floor window. Dubourg opened the door, pushed Madame Chambertin
in, and entered behind her, taking care to close the door.
Meanwhile, Monsieur Chambertin, who had provided the fireworks expressly
for his friend the baron, was looking for him in the glare of a
Bengal-light; as he did not see him, he ran hither and thither, crying:
"Come, monsieur le baron, come, I entreat you! Two pieces have been set
off already, and they're just lighting the first transparency!"
Dubourg, who was probably not thinking of the transparency at that
moment, heard Chambertin's voice, and called to him from the interior of
the summer-house:
"I am here, I can see very well; don't worry about me; your good wife is
obliging enough to explain the fireworks to me."
"What! I don't see you at the window."
"Because madame is afraid of the rocket-sticks; but we can see very
well."
"Ah! that's good! I am delighted that you have a good place," said
Chambertin, standing under the window. "I arranged the display myself;
did you see the sun?"
"No, but I smelt it; it smelt something like the moon."
"Look at these little serpents; what perpetual motion! they go very
well, don't they?"
"Wonderfully well."
"Pray explain the transparency to monsieur le baron, wife."
"Oh! monsieur le baron grasps it all very quickly," replied Madame
Chambertin, in a voice upon which the smoke seemed to have had a serious
effect.
"Look out! there goes the bouquet!"
The bouquet exploded amid applause and shouts of _bravo_! The company
returned to the house, enchanted by the display, and Madame Chambertin
came out of the summer-house with monsieur le baron.
"The bouquet was fine," said Chambertin, rubbing his hands.
"I am still a little dazed by it," said madame, tremulously.
"It was worthy of the lord of this domain," added Dubourg.
"Upon my word," said Chambertin, "I believe I am almost that."
"You are altogether, my dear friend; it is I who say it."
"When a man of your eminence assures me of it, monsieur le baron, I can
no longer doubt it."
But it was after eleven o'clock, and that is unduly late in the country.
Those of the guests who lived at some distance entered their carriages;
those who lived in the village ordered their servants to light their
lanterns; they took leave of Monsieur and Madame Chambertin,
congratulating them on the magnificence of their party; they bowed
deferentially to monsieur le baron, and departed to their respective
abodes. Thereupon Monsieur Chambertin, thinking that his illustrious
friend must long for repose, and seeing that the learned Ménard had
fallen asleep in the salon, ordered the servants to escort those
gentlemen to their rooms.
The finest apartment on the first floor had been prepared for the young
nobleman, and a pretty room on the second for the professor, who, if he
had been nothing more than that, would probably have been relegated to
the attic, but who was treated with the highest consideration because he
was the baron's friend and companion.
The whole household had retired. Ménard was already snoring like one of
the blessed, which means that the blessed do not have bad dreams.
Dubourg stretched himself out luxuriously in a soft bed, surrounded by
rich silk curtains with gold fringe and tassels, and said to himself:
"Gad! it's mighty amusing to play the baron! these people overwhelm me
with attentions, and fly to meet my lightest wish! And all because they
think me a palatine! If I had introduced myself as plain Monsieur
Dubourg of Rennes, they would have told me to go my way; and yet this
other name hasn't made a different man of me. But all men have their
share of madness--a little more or a little less. Instead of trying to
cure it, which would be very noble, no doubt, but which strikes me as
rather too difficult, one must flatter their mania to make one's self
agreeable to them. This Chambertin is an ass, who, after trading in wine
two-thirds of his days, is trying to play the grandee and to ape the
airs of the nobility during the last third. What do I care for his
idiocy? he is delighted to entertain a baron, and I will play the baron
as long as I enjoy myself here. His wife is very willing that I should
make love to her, and I'll do it as long as I haven't anything better to
do; and it is more than probable that I shan't find anything better as
long as I am in her house, because a coquettish woman who has seen her
best days never invites any pretty girls who may rob her of attentions."
Reflecting thus, Dubourg was beginning to doze, when he heard a great
uproar in the courtyard,--outcries, oaths, and roars of laughter,--and,
in the midst of it, he fancied that he recognized the voice of one of
his jockeys. He rose, partly dressed himself, and opened the window
looking on the courtyard. He saw a number of servants assembled there,
and old Lunel fighting for a chicken with one of the little Poles, while
the other was shrieking and weeping in a corner.
The two scullions, faithful to the orders Dubourg had given them, had
replied only by signs to the other servants; but Lunel, who was Monsieur
Chambertin's steward, valet, and groom, all in one, was very ill
disposed toward the baron's servants, as well as toward their master,
whom he had driven to Grenoble, and from whom he had received no other
_pourboire_ than a tap on the cheek. The two boys had bruised themselves
behind, when they were thrown out of the carriage; that was why, when
trying to make themselves understood by signs, they frequently put their
hands to the injured part: a gesture which seemed to Lunel most
insulting, and he was convinced that the young Poles intended to make
sport of him.
To be revenged on them, he had taken them up to a small room under the
eaves, and left them there, supperless. The little fellows did not go to
bed, thinking all the time that food would be brought to them, or that
they would be called to supper. At last, tired of waiting, they went
downstairs. Everybody had retired except Lunel, who was sitting up
because he suspected that the baron's servants would not remain quiet.
The little fellows, spurred on by hunger, got scent of the store-closet,
which was in the kitchen; and as one of the kitchen windows was open,
they easily crawled in, and, making a hole in the canvas door of the
closet, one of them seized a chicken which had not been touched, the
other the carcass of a hare which still had some meat on it. They were
about to fly with their booty when Lunel discovered them; he shouted
_thief!_ and struck at them with a whip with which he had armed himself.
The scullions ran to the window and climbed through; one fell and
bruised his nose; the other, being less awkward, was running off with
his chicken, when Lunel overtook him and tried to wrest it from him.
Thereupon a struggle began.
"You shan't have it!" cried the boy.
"Oho! you little rascal! you can talk French now, can you? I'll teach
you to make insulting signs to me!"
Meanwhile, the one who had fallen cried:
"I've broke my nose; it's that old dodger's fault for not giving us any
supper!"
It was at this crisis that Dubourg appeared at his window. All the
servants had come down into the courtyard; and Monsieur Chambertin also
appeared on his balcony, in his robe de chambre.
"What's the meaning of all this noise?" he demanded.
"Those are my little Poles."
"Yes, your Poles, who talk French now," retorted Lunel; "I caught 'em
stealing in the store-closet."
"He didn't give us any supper," said the boys, "and he was waiting for
us in a corner with a whip."
"A miracle!" cried Dubourg; "they have spoken! they understand! That
whip seems to have taught them more quickly than any schooling!--Come,
my young friends, come up here and let me hear you speak French, and you
shall have some supper."
"And you, knave," shouted Monsieur Chambertin to his servant, "if you
presume to lay a finger on monsieur le baron's Poles again, I'll have
you horsewhipped, and discharge you!"
"They're no more Poles than I am a Turk!" muttered Lunel, as he walked
away.
The jockeys went up to their master's apartments, with the chicken and
the hare they had rescued from the battle; the servants returned to bed,
and Monsieur Chambertin resumed his place beside his wife, who was
dreaming that she was in the summer-house, and that they were about to
set off a petard.
Dubourg concluded that it would be imprudent to keep with him two young
imps who would surely get into further mischief. So, early the next
morning, he gave them each three francs and sent them back to Grenoble,
to the great contentment of Lunel, who did not like Poles.
The following days passed quietly; a few friends came to share Monsieur
Chambertin's pleasure and to listen to all the fables Dubourg chose to
tell them concerning his estates, his châteaux, his family, and his
duties at the court of Poland. Ménard did not say much, but he ate and
drank vigorously, and cited a Latin author now and then; so that the
company, not understanding him, regarded him with renewed respect.
Dubourg gambled every evening, but only for small stakes. Frossard was
absent, Monsieur Chambertin never got excited over the game, and Dubourg
began to think that he would not double his capital. But the host's
birthday was approaching, and on that occasion the house was to be
turned topsy-turvy once more. Some very wealthy friends from Paris were
expected, who would play as high as monsieur le baron wished. It was
Madame Chambertin who had invited them, for she did everything that she
could to detain the agreeable guest; and she said to her husband every
day:
"You don't realize all the honor Monsieur de Potoski does you by paying
you a visit; you have no conception of it!"
"I assure you, my dear love, that I am very proud of it, and that I will
do all that I can to keep him."
"You will do well, monsieur; for his going would leave a great void in
my life. He is a man who would be very hard to replace. He is noble to
his finger-tips."
But everything was in commotion at Monsieur Chambertin's, where great
preparations were being made for the approaching function, of which the
charming stranger was again to be the hero. Monsieur Chambertin seemed
determined to outdo himself; he sent for workmen, whom he employed with
a great show of mystery in the garden, and they seemed always to be in
the neighborhood of the summer-house. He was preparing a surprise for
his guest; and as his last fireworks were talked about all over the
neighborhood, he determined that the renown of his next display should
reach to Lyon.
The great day came at last, and many guests arrived. Monsieur Chambertin
was immensely pleased with the surprise he had arranged for the baron,
and would not even take his wife into his confidence. The former wine
merchant's circle was augmented by new faces. A sumptuous banquet was
served; the dishes were exquisite, the wines delicious, and Dubourg did
the honors of the table almost unassisted, because whenever he called
his host "my friend D'Allevard," he was certain to turn his head.
"Twice happy the day that I met you!" he whispered to madame.
"What do you say? twice?" she replied, with a sigh; "oh! that is not
enough! say rather four, or five, or six times!"
"Let us call it seven, and stop at that!" said Dubourg.
The dinner came to an end. Monsieur Chambertin had but one regret--that
his friend Durosey, whom he had been expecting from Paris for several
days, had not arrived. Every time that he heard friend Durosey's name,
Dubourg said to himself:
"I used to know someone of that name in Paris; but where in the devil
did I know him?"
He asked Chambertin who this Monsieur Durosey might be.
"He's a wholesale merchant, who has just retired from business with
twenty thousand francs a year."
"In that case," thought Dubourg, "it can't be the man I knew, for I
never associated with wholesale merchants."