"No, no, you may depend upon it I shall not tell anybody about it, for
my own sake; for if it got talked of, it might come to the ears of the
Comte and the rest of them, and they'd be after me again; but I've had
quite enough of your gentry, and lots of lovers; and if ever I should
get another, I hope he'll be a plain sort of body like myself."
Thus said Jaqueline to her kind hostess of the castle, on their way to
the Cock and Bottle, where they arrived after a pleasant walk, and
parted without further adventures.
On the evening of that day our heroine was safely conveyed in the
_patache_ to the door of Madame Margot, who was a restauratrice in the
Cours Public, a pleasant open space planted with trees in the town of
Moulins. Her reception was most cordial; but Nicolas Margot, who
officiated as _premier garcon_ in the establishment, evinced no symptoms
of that intense admiration which she had so recently excited. In a few
days, however, they became excellent friends, as she cheerfully assisted
him in his vocation during the morning, and he was consequently earlier
at liberty to chaperon her about the town and environs, and all went on
smoothly till the last day of the first week, which Jaqueline declared
was Sunday.
How any Christian could so err, appeared wonderful--but she was
positive, and would not be convinced, until the day had passed by, and
the next came and was kept as Sabbaths are wont to be observed in
France, by unusual gaiety all day, something more showy than common at
the theatre in the evening, and fireworks "superbe et magnifique" at
night. Then she was puzzled, and came to the conclusion that townsfolk
and country people kept the calendar in two ways.
"They will never persuade me to the contrary," she repeated to herself;
"for I never can forget how I spent last Tuesday. But the old lady was
right. It won't do to tell Madame Margot or Nicolas about that, or I
don't know what they might not fancy, although I am sure it was no fault
of mine that I got among such a pack of fools."
So she kept that secret; and as time passed merrily along, it somehow
happened that she and Nicolas glided unawares into such a degree of
confidence, that it was the only secret she withheld from him.
The influence of the moon upon disordered brains may probably account
for much of the nonsensical talk that passes between young persons of
different sexes, when walking in pairs on "a shiny night;" and that or
something else, ere a month had elapsed, caused a great alteration in
the tone and subjects of familiar chat between Jaqueline and Nicolas.
This was observed by Madame Margot, who thereupon also changed her
manner, by kissing her guest more fervently at night ere she retired to
rest, while Nicolas looked very much as though he should like to do the
same.
"She is a charming, good girl," said the mother to her son, when they
were left together on one of these occasions, after Jaqueline's
departure.
"That she is!" exclaimed Nicolas, stretching out his legs, twirling his
thumbs, and looking down into the fire.
"And _so_ good-tempered!" added Madame Margot, "and so willing and
clever about a house! Why, since she has been here, she has been as good
as a waiter to us."
"Worth more than all we ever had put together in a lump," said Nicolas.
"She would make an excellent wife," observed the mother, looking archly
at her son; but he would not look at her, being apparently watching some
change going on among the ashes. "And she will bring her husband some
money too," she added, after a pause.
"The devil take the money!" exclaimed Nicolas, jumping up and striding
hastily across the room.
"Oho! Is it so?" thought the restauratrice; "then the omelet's ready for
the pan;" and, in the spirit of that conviction, she led her son into a
conversation, the result of which was, that in the course of a few days
she contrived to make an arrangement with a neighbouring _traiteur_,
whereby he engaged to take charge of her establishment for the space of
one month, leaving her and her son at liberty to take a journey into the
country on business.
What passed during those few days between Jaqueline and Nicolas need not
be told, except that he now and then said things which reminded her of
certain of the speeches of the "pack of fools," whom she had encountered
on the memorable missing Tuesday.
It was a fine day in September, when Madame Margot, Jaqueline, and
Nicolas, took their seats in a _patache_; and were safely conveyed to
the Cock and Bottle, where, to our heroine's great surprise, they were
welcomed by her father and the little old lady of the ruins.
The cause of this surprise may as well be told here. The said old lady
was an eccentric good body, and, having taken a fancy to Jaqueline,
resolved to be her friend. So, after her departure from the castle, she
went over to St Denis to make inquiries, as (like all benevolent
persons) she had often been deceived. All that she heard of her young
_protege_ was to her heart's content, and, by means of the _cure_, with
whom she was acquainted, she found no difficulty in gaining the
friendship of papa Triquet, to whom she related the particulars of her
interview with, and intentions toward his daughter. She then, with his
consent, wrote a letter to Madame Margot, authorising her, in case of
inquiry touching such matters at Moulins, to state that Jaqueline
Triquet would, on her wedding-day, receive from her a given quantity of
that dross which Nicolas thought fit afterwards to proffer to his
infernal majesty. This circumstance was not made known to the lovers
till after the marriage, when the promise was strictly fulfilled.
And now, to the reader's imagination may be left all the particulars of
the journey homeward--how papa Triquet flirted with the fat widow and
the little laughing old lady--how Jaqueline was more envied by her
friends, on her return from than on her departure for Moulins--how
Nicolas and she, having once began each to fancy that there was
something very capital in the other, proceeded onward in the delusion
till each seemed perfect in the other's eyes, though to the world in
general there really appeared nothing very particular in either of them.
The wedding-day passed, with accustomed gaiety, at St Denis; and towards
the close thereof, when the bride was allowed a short respite from
dancing, the good little old lady took her aside, and gave her certain
reasons whereby to account for the missing Tuesday, concluding by
observing--"I would not tell you before, because I thought it might be a
lesson to you not to wish for beauty, or think of acquiring attractions
by the use of charms and such nonsense. The most powerful charm and
attraction is a good temper and kind conduct. Ha, ha! Why, you don't
look above half convinced yet: but, remember, you were very much
fatigued that night, and it was very sultry after the storm, and you
were very thirsty, I daresay, and so it is no great wonder that water
was running in your head." But, probably, she forgot the long tales
which she herself told that night, about the olden times of splendour
and gaiety, with elaborate descriptions of furniture, liveries, &c. &c.,
which were not a little likely to have some influence in the affair.
As Jaqueline resolved to have no secrets unknown to her husband, she
related the whole matter to him on the following day, and then said, "It
seemed to me as if I saw all those people as plain as I see you now; and
if all that then happened was a dream, how do I know but I am in a dream
now?"
"It really seems to me as if I was, my dear Jaqueline," said her spouse.
"But it is a very happy one, and I am in no hurry to wake."
Our intended limits are already exceeded. We shall, therefore, only put
on record, for the benefit of future tourists, that in the Cours Public
at Moulins they may still find excellent accommodation for large and
small parties at the house of a restaurateur, whose buxom, bustling
wife, Madame Jaqueline, manages matters after a fashion that induced
a gourmand to observe latterly--"With such cooking a monkey might eat
his own father." Her attentions are unremitting--and the only piece of
unasked advice that she is in the habit of offering to her guests is,
never to drink cold water, particularly in hot weather, without
tempering it properly with good wine or _Eau de Vie_.
PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS.
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:
Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors; otherwise,
every effort has been made to remain true to the authors' words and
intent.