generally vulgar and indecent, as the custom is among the country folk,
whose innocence has always seemed to me largely apocryphal. The two
Dargenettes replied in the same tone; but when Mignonne said anything,
the young men did not retort; they sneaked away shamefaced, and I heard
them more than once say to one another:
"'Oh! when Mamzelle Mignonne puts her oar in, I ain't smart enough to
answer her back; she's too sharp, she is! Anyone can see that she's
lived in Paris.'
"I approached the three friends and stopped at the stalls and shows at
which they stopped. Mignonne noticed me, and I fancied that she blushed.
One of the Dargenettes looked at me and said:
"'Look! there's that fellow that was eating Mere Giroux's gingerbread.
It looks funny for a Paris gentleman, with a beard, to eat gingerbread
like that.'
"I saw Mignonne nudge the speaker. Probably she told her to keep quiet,
for I heard nothing more.
"I tried to exchange a word or two with them, but they pretended not to
hear me, and made no reply. However, I saw that they whispered together,
and from time to time looked covertly to see if I was still there. At
last they came to a halt where the dancing was in progress. I was
waiting for that. Dancing is not exactly my favorite pastime; but when
it's a question of seducing somebody's daughter, then I become a
fearless dancer. As for young women, almost all of them love dancing;
indeed, there are some in whom the taste amounts to a passion; but if
they had to dance without men, you may be sure that their love for
dancing would soon vanish. Whence I conclude that the actual pleasure of
capering is a secondary matter. But dancing gives an opportunity to show
one's grace and lightness of foot, to play the flirt, to listen to soft
speeches, often to passionate avowals, accompanied by a pressure of the
hand, before the nose of a jealous spectator, who sees nothing, because
it's a part of the figure!--Is it surprising, then, that almost all
women have an inborn passion for the dance?
"I made haste to engage Mademoiselle Mignonne for a contra-dance; for
the polka has not yet descended upon village fetes. She accepted my
invitation with a well-satisfied air. I at once took her hand, and,
leaving her friends, led her away to our places. I say again that
nothing better for lovers, _in esse_ or _in futuro_, has ever been
invented. I very soon entered into conversation with my partner. I was
careful not to go too fast, and not to begin, like an idiot, by telling
her that I adored her; she would have laughed in my face. But I did not
conceal my amazement at her manner, her bearing, her language; I told
her that it could not be that she was born in a village. Thereupon she
told me what I already knew; but I pretended that I heard it for the
first time. I did not squeeze her hand, but I manifested the deepest
interest in her, and engaged her for the next contra-dance. At first,
she made some objections; but I persisted, and she accepted. I saw
plainly enough that it flattered her to dance with a gentleman from the
city.
"When we joined her companions, who had also been dancing, they were
drenched with perspiration and their cheeks were purple; but their
partners had left them without offering them any refreshment. I made
haste to call a waiter who was selling beer or wine, the only
refreshments to be found at open-air fetes.--Oh, yes! there are also
vendors of cocoa.--The beer being brought, the two Dargenettes did not
wait to be asked twice, and Mignonne saw that it would be useless to
stand on ceremony.
"Thus I found myself one of their party. But I behaved with a restraint
and reserve which would have edified Monsieur Faisande. During the
second contra-dance, Mademoiselle Mignonne talked even more freely; and
I saw that, while she had brought back from Paris the pretty manners and
the more refined language which gave her such a great advantage over the
village girls, she had retained the candor and artlessness which we do
not find in city maidens, even in those who have been reared most
strictly. Mignonne was a strange mixture of innocence and knowledge, of
frankness and coquetry, of simplicity and passion. Her stay in Paris,
the people she had seen there, the reading with which she had tired her
memory, had given her a feeling of distaste for the country, although
her mind and her heart still retained all the primitive freshness of a
virgin nature.--Agree, messieurs, that that child was a charming
conquest to contemplate."
"Faith! there was no great merit in the conquest!" cried Balloquet. "The
girl wouldn't have a peasant, so she was sure to fall into the first
snare laid for her by a man from the city; and then, your beard must
have helped you considerably in triumphing over Mademoiselle Mignonne."
"Why so?"
"Because it partly hides your face."
Fouvenard shrugged his shoulders, threw a bread ball at Balloquet, and
resumed his narrative.
"After the second contra-dance, Mignonne said that she wanted to walk
about. I asked leave to accompany them, and I had been so polite that
they could not refuse me. Indeed, I think that they were not anxious to
do so; the Dargenettes, because they liked to be treated; and Mignonne,
because she was flattered to have a young Parisian for her escort.
"She declined to take my arm; but I walked beside her, as she was no
longer between her friends. I paid for their admission to all the shows
under canvas, of the sort that are always found at an out-of-doors fete.
Mignonne tried to refuse at first, but the two peasants hurried into the
strolling theatre, and the pretty blonde had to follow them in order not
to be left alone with me.
"Toward the end of the evening, we were like old acquaintances. I had
treated them to everything obtainable, and I had even danced with
Mignonne's friends.
"We left the fete together. It was dark, and they accepted my arm. I had
Mignonne on one side, and one of the peasants on the other; the second
had her sister's arm, so that we walked four abreast. Country people
delight in that, and it reminded me unpleasantly of Sunday strollers in
Paris. I would have preferred to walk alone with Mignonne, but it was
impossible.
"It seemed to me a very short walk, notwithstanding the fact that the
Dargenettes sang all the way, and sang horribly false, murdering every
air they tried. But Mignonne did not sing, and I began to press
affectionately the arm that lay in mine.
"Chance willed that we reached the peasants' house before Mignonne's.
They said good-night, and kissed one another laughingly. I heard them
whispering, and could make out that I was the subject. The Dargenettes
said: 'You have made a conquest of the bearded man! Look out he don't
kidnap you!' and other witticisms of the same sort."
VIII
AN EXPEDIENT
"At last I was alone with that pretty girl. I need not tell you,
messieurs, that I became loving, eloquent, urgent. Mademoiselle Mignonne
laughed at everything I said; but it pleased her. As a general rule,
when that sort of thing doesn't please a woman, she doesn't listen to
the man who tries it on. As soon as we are listened to, we can be sure
of triumphing. I requested an assignation. She refused; but I declared
that I would come to Sceaux every day; to which she replied that she
could not prevent my meeting her.
"To make a long story short, messieurs, I met Mignonne the next day, and
the next, and every day that week. I spent a good deal in railroad
fares; but one must be willing to sow if he would reap.
"After ten or twelve days, I had completely turned the girl's head, and
I persuaded her to go with me to Paris, where I promised her a brilliant
existence, pleasure by the wholesale, and, above all, a never-ending
love. Mademoiselle Mignonne set great store by that, I assure you. She
was a romantic maiden. But it costs us men nothing to promise, you
know! I am not sure, indeed, that I didn't mention marriage; but I think
not.
"It all resulted in a little fifth-floor room, under the eaves, in a
house on Rue de Menilmontant. I furnished it with whatever was
necessary, nothing more, and covered the walls with paper at twelve sous
the roll. I must confess that my love was not exacting; she desired
neither a palace, nor a cashmere shawl, nor a carriage; my
presence--that was all that was necessary to satisfy her.
"That state of affairs lasted for several months. At the end of that
time, I would have been very glad to be rid of my conquest; I had had
enough of her. If she had been sensible, I would have said to her,
frankly:
"'My dear girl, I did love you, but I don't love you any more. It was
sure to come, sooner or later; liaisons like ours never last very long;
it's all the same, whether we make an end of it now, or six months
hence. Make another acquaintance, or return to Sceaux, as you please;
for my part, I have the honor to bid you good-day.'
"But, as I said, I had to do with a young woman who had never thoroughly
understood Paris and the Parisians, but who had seen them through a
miraculous prism. Moreover, she proved to have a strength of character
which astonished me. She had honestly believed that I would never leave
her. You will say, perhaps, that it was in my power to cease going to
see her; but, unluckily, at the beginning of our liaison, I had been
idiotic enough to take her to my lodgings, and to show her the shop in
which I am a partner; so if I had let a day or two pass without seeing
her, what would have happened? Why, she would have come after me, either
at my lodgings or at my shop; and that would have led to a very annoying
scene, especially as my partner is almost as ridiculous as Monsieur
Faisande, and believes me to be a perfect Cato.
"So there was nothing for me to do but break with my girl in such a way
as effectually to take away the desire to hunt me up in my own quarters.
A confidential disclosure which she made to me intensified my longing to
put an end to the connection: she informed me that she bore a pledge of
our love. Fancy me with a woman and child on my hands!--Damnation,
messieurs! put yourselves in my place."
Monsieur Fouvenard paused to look at us all. But no one answered; and he
continued, evidently surprised by the profound silence and the almost
stern expression of his hearers:
"So I looked about for an opportunity to break with her; what I needed
was a tempestuous, violent scene, for a German quarrel would not have
sufficed to part us.--I had then and still have a friend, a fellow who
is very enterprising with the fair sex, and almost as fascinating as
myself. That is saying a good deal, perhaps, but it's true. You must
have heard of him: his name is Rambertin, and he is a commercial
traveller who has left Ariadnes in all the places he ever visited. I had
met him several times, in the early days of my liaison with Mignonne,
when I took my love to Mabille or the Chateau-Rouge. He had found the
young lady of Sceaux much to his taste. One day, meeting me when I was
alone and rather depressed, he asked me what I had done with my
_blondinette_.
"'Parbleu!' said I; 'I would to God I had nothing more to do with her!
If you could rid me of her, you would do me a very great favor.'
"'Are you speaking seriously?' cried Rambertin.
"'Most seriously.'
"'Then it's a bargain.'
"'But you don't know that Mignonne adores me; what you must do is to
arrange matters so that I can break with her.'
"Rambertin began to laugh and rub his hands.
"'It seems to me,' he said, 'that I've a longer head than you; for when
it's a matter of breaking off a liaison, I can always think of ten ways
to do it. Of course, you go to see your fair whenever you choose; and
you probably have a key to her room, so that you can go in when she's in
bed?'
"'That is true.'
"'Give me your key. To-morrow I will have one like it, and the thing
will go of itself.'
"The next day, Rambertin had a key like the one I had loaned him, which
he returned to me, saying:
"'I know where the lady lives. It's a house where there's a concierge
with five cats; but I am about your size, I'll cover my face with my
cloak, and this very night I'll sleep in Mignonne's room. I fancy that
she sleeps without a light. I will act so cautiously that she will not
suspect that another man is occupying your place. You must come there
early to-morrow morning; you have your key, so you can come in and
surprise me reposing beside your charmer. I should say that you would
have the right to lose your head then, call her a faithless hussy, and
drop her.'
"I considered it a magnificent plan, and it was put in execution.
Rambertin is audacious beyond description. Everything succeeded as we
hoped. I went to Mignonne's room very early the next morning. She was
still asleep beside my substitute, suspecting nothing. And Rambertin too
pretended to be asleep. But I was no sooner in the room than I made a
great outcry. I called Mignonne faithless, perjured--Oh! messieurs, if
you could have seen the girl's amazement and horror! I assure you, it
was an intensely dramatic picture. She declared that she was not guilty,
that she was the victim of a detestable piece of treachery. She tried to
throw herself at my feet, to force me to listen to her. But as I was not
at all anxious that she should justify herself, I left the room,
shouting that all was over between us.
"I confess that I was afraid that Mignonne would try to see me again,
that she would waylay me somewhere, to try again to convince me of her
innocence; but several days passed, and I heard nothing of her. At last,
I met Rambertin.
"'Well,' I said, 'the _blondinette_ seems to have been consoled very
quickly; you couldn't have had much difficulty in making her listen to
reason.'
"'You're devilishly mistaken,' he replied; 'on the contrary, your
Mignonne is a young woman who refuses to be tamed. At first, being
persuaded that you believed her guilty, she was determined to go after
you, to dog your steps and compel you to listen to her. Faith! my dear
fellow, when I saw how it was, I just simply confessed our little scheme
to bring about a rupture between you two. The effect of that confession
was most extraordinary. At first, the girl refused to believe me, but I
proved to her that I was telling the truth: I had a little note from
you, telling me at what cafe I could find you, to return the key of
Mignonne's room. I showed her that note, and she could have no further
doubt. She said just this: "The infamous villain!" Not another word
about going after you. "Now," says I to myself, "she's at odds with him
for good and all; I must try to obtain my pardon." And I tried to make
her understand that I had loved her for a long while, and that only the
intensity of my passion could have induced me to second you in that
affair. But Mademoiselle Mignonne, without deigning to reply to my
entreaties, pointed to the door and said:
"'"Leave this room, monsieur, and never let me see your face again, or I
will go to the magistrate and tell him of your shameful conduct."
"'I tried in vain to make her understand that the night we had passed
together gave me some rights over her; the fair Mignonne was immovable.
I tried to steal a kiss; she shrieked so loud that the neighbors came to
their windows. And so, faith! I went away; but let her do what she will,
I'll bide my time, I'll seize the first favorable opportunity, and we
won't stop where we are!'
"Such, messieurs, was Rambertin's story, and that is how I broke off my
liaison with the damsel of Sceaux. Don't you think the method I resorted
to was very ingenious? I'll wager that you'll bear it in mind, in order
to make use of it on occasion!"
Monsieur Fouvenard looked at us, one after another, as if he expected
compliments and congratulations; but, on the contrary, nobody spoke, and
almost every face had assumed a serious expression. Indeed, there were
some faces on which he seemed to detect something more than mere
seriousness; for, I am happy to say, his narrative found no sympathy
among us.
As for myself, I had always felt a sort of repulsion for that young man,
a repulsion of the sort that one cannot describe, but that one often
feels for a certain person. At that moment, I was gratified to think
that I had always disliked a man capable of such dastardly, vile
behavior as he boasted of in connection with that poor girl from Sceaux.
The portrait he had drawn of Mignonne interested and touched me; and it
seemed to me that I should like to know her, and to avenge her for the
infamous way in which she had been victimized.
Dupreval, who had observed the unpleasant impression produced by the
bearded man's tale, and who, presumably, was not proud of having that
individual for his guest, was the first to speak.
"It has taken you a long while, Fouvenard," he said, in an almost harsh
tone, "to compose the anecdote you have just told us; but, frankly, you
would have done as well to keep silent instead of regaling us with that
tale of seduction, the denouement of which may be worthy of the Regency,
but is not at all suited to our code of morals; for nowadays, when a man
desires to leave a mistress, it is no longer necessary to degrade her,
to throw her into his friend's arms. Those are old-fashioned methods,
which you have read about in some old memoirs of Cardinal Dubois's time;
but, I say again, you were not happy in your choice of events."
"What's that! old-fashioned methods!" cried Fouvenard, running his hands
through his hair--a favorite gesture of his, especially when he desired
to be impressive, to produce an effect; and it did, in fact, make him a
few lines taller by making his hair stand up for the moment. "I have
invented nothing, messieurs. I have told the story exactly as it
happened. Anyone who doubts it has only to call on Mademoiselle
Mignonne, No. 80, Rue de Menilmontant,--that is, if she still lives
there,--and it is probable that she will give him a mass of details
concerning her perfidious Ernest, which I have forgotten. Ernest is my
Christian name, messieurs, and that is what she always called me. It is
possible that my story shocks you; but, at all events, it's all one to
me. I snap my fingers at your displeasure! You make me laugh, with your
long, solemn faces! I take reproofs from no one; the man who chooses to
administer one has only to speak--I am ready to answer him."
"Oh! messieurs! pray beware!" cried Balloquet, with a laugh. "I warn you
that Fouvenard is extremely quarrelsome in his cups. Three or four more
glasses of champagne, and he's just the boy to defy us all!"
"I beg you not to make fun of me, Balloquet."
"Ah! the boar is bristling up."
"Monsieur," said I, irritated by Fouvenard's tone and manner, "if you
pride yourself on your adventure with this village girl of Sceaux, I
fancy that we, on our side, are at liberty to condemn it. It is quite
possible that that makes no difference to you. For my own part, I
declare that I have deceived many women, but I would never have resorted
to such methods as yours to break with them."
"Parbleu! monsieur, perhaps you don't need to take much trouble to
induce your mistresses to leave you."
"Frankly, I should prefer that to your expedients; the man who is
deceived is often more interesting than the deceiver."
"And you have often been in that interesting position?"
Dupreval put an end to our dispute by rising.
"Messieurs," he said, "I beg you once more to receive my farewell
greeting as a bachelor."
We all rose to shake hands with our host. I observed then that Dumouton
took the longest road, for he made the circuit of the table. But he had
long had his eye on some superb pears which had not been touched; and,
as he passed them, he seized two, which he succeeded, not without
difficulty, in stuffing into his pockets, thereby producing the effect
of two miniature balloons on his hips; and as they raised the skirts of
his coat, they disclosed the fact that the seat of his trousers was of a
different color from the front.
We said good-night, took our hats, and prepared to leave the restaurant.
But the music was still in progress, playing a captivating waltz, which
was like an invitation to ask a lady to dance.
IX
THE WEDDING PARTY IN THE FRONT ROOMS
Balloquet and I were the last to leave the room in which we had dined;
and, as we took our hats, we glanced at each other, beating time to the
music, and I verily believe we were on the point of waltzing together,
when the strains of a polka, nearer at hand, chimed in discordantly with
the other music.
"Oho! there are several balls here, are there?" Balloquet asked a
waiter, who was looking at us and smiling.
"Yes, messieurs; there are two wedding parties: one right below us, on
the first floor, and another on the same floor, but in the salons at the
rear."
"Ah! so there's a wedding going on in the rear, too?"
"To be sure, monsieur."
"What time is it now?"
"Half-past eleven, monsieur."
"The wedding parties should be at their height. Are there many guests?"
"A great many, monsieur. They are hardly able to dance, they're so
crowded."
"Which is the more brilliant party?"
"They're both pretty fine, monsieur. But the one in front rather beats
the other. It's a sweller affair."
"I understand. The one in the rear is more free and easy. They're
probably dancing the cancan there. Sapristi! and it's only midnight! The
idea of going to bed, when other people are going to pass the night
enjoying themselves! when you can hear a lusty orchestra playing tunes
that make your legs itch! Do you like the idea, Rochebrune? Don't you
feel tempted, as I do, to go to one of these balls downstairs, where
they're tripping the light fantastic?"
"I do, indeed! I would go with all my heart. This music makes me dance
all over."
"Do you want to bet that I won't go to one of these balls?"
"Do you mean it? You would have the face to do it, when you don't know
anyone?"
"Why not? I'll show you what a simple thing it would be. There are two
balls. I go to one. If by chance some ill-bred wight sees fit to ask me
who I am, whom I know, why, I have my answer all pat: 'I was invited to
the other party, on the same floor; I made a mistake, that's all.'"
"Upon my word, that would be an excuse. You make me want to do the same
thing."
"Bravo! It's decided: we will both go to the ball. And then, you see, we
know so many people! it would be deuced strange if we didn't see some
familiar face in a large party. Then we will just say in an undertone:
'You brought me here;' and our acquaintance will ask nothing better than
to be our sponsor. Besides, we will dance, and dancing men are always
scarce at balls; sooner or later, it will be the fashion to hire them.
They'll be only too glad to have us. Come, which one do you choose; it's
all one to me."
"And to me, too."
"Well, I'm a good fellow: the ball in front is more stylish; I'll let
you have that one, and I'll take the one behind. Especially, as I feel
in the mood for dancing a cancan, if it's a bit _chicardini_. Does that
suit you?"
"Perfectly."
"We're in patent-leathers and have new gloves. It couldn't be
better.--Waiter, just whisk your napkin over our boots. That's right;
now we're as refulgent as suns; patent-leather boots are a blessed
invention.--Forward! I may be mistaken, but I have an idea that I shall
make a good thing out of this ball; and you?"
"I haven't so much assurance as you. But, deuce take it! after all,
we're not people without hearth or home. And, as you say, we might
easily make a mistake in the party. Come on!"
"That's the talk: forward, to the cannon's mouth!"
We went down one flight; Balloquet humming and hopping; I, slightly
flustered, but none the less determined to enjoy myself. We reached the
landing between the two balls; we heard both orchestras.
"Good luck!" said Balloquet; and he entered the door at the right, while
I turned to the left.
I entered the room where they were dancing. A quadrille was just
beginning.
"A fourth couple here! we want a vis-a-vis!" called a gentleman close
beside me.--Then he looked at me and said: "Won't you be our
vis-a-vis?"
"Gladly," I replied; and glancing about, I saw a lady sitting alone on a
bench. I hastened to invite her to dance. She accepted. We took our
places opposite the gentleman who had no vis-a-vis; the music began and
we did the same; and, lo! I was dancing already before I had had time to
look about me and become acquainted with the company into which I had so
audaciously thrust myself.