Bel Ami; Or, The History of a Scoundrel Part 9

One evening, Mme. de Marelle said to him: "Would you believe that I have never been to the Folies-Bergeres; will you take me there?"

He hesitated, fearing a meeting with Rachel. Then he thought: "Bah, I am not married after all. If she should see me, she would take in the situation and not accost me. Moreover, we would have a box."

When they entered the hall, it was crowded; with difficulty they made their way to their seats. Mme. de Marelle did not look at the stage; she was interested in watching the women who were promenading, and she felt an irresistible desire to touch them, to see of what those beings were made. Suddenly she said:

"There is a large brunette who stares at us all the time. I think every minute she will speak to us. Have you seen her?"

He replied: "No, you are mistaken."

He told an untruth, for he had noticed the woman, who was no other than Rachel, with anger in her eyes and violent words upon her lips.

Duroy had pa.s.sed her when he and Mme. de Marelle entered and she had said to him: "Good evening," in a low voice and with a wink which said "I understand." But he had not replied; for fear of being seen by his sweetheart he pa.s.sed her coldly, disdainfully. The woman, her jealousy aroused, followed the couple and said in a louder key: "Good evening, Georges." He paid no heed to her. Then she was determined to be recognized and she remained near their box, awaiting a favorable moment. When she saw that she was observed by Mme. de Marelle, she touched Duroy's shoulder with the tip of her finger, and said:

"Good evening. How are you?"

But Georges did not turn his head.

She continued: "Have you grown deaf since Thursday?"

Still he did not reply. She laughed angrily and cried:

"Are you dumb, too? Perhaps Madame has your tongue?"

With a furious glance, Duroy then exclaimed:

"How dare you accost me? Go along or I will have you arrested."

With flaming eyes, she cried: "Ah, is that so! Because you are with another is no reason that you cannot recognize me. If you had made the least sign of recognition when you pa.s.sed me, I would not have molested you. You did not even say good evening to me when you met me."

During that tirade Mme. de Marelle in affright opened the door of the box and fled through the crowd seeking an exit. Duroy rushed after her.

Rachel, seeing him disappear, cried: "Stop her! she has stolen my lover!"

Two men seized the fugitive by the shoulder, but Duroy, who had caught up with her, bade them desist, and together he and Clotilde reached the street.

They entered a cab. The cabman asked: "Where shall I drive to?" Duroy replied: "Where you will!"

Clotilde sobbed hysterically. Duroy did not know what to say or do. At length he stammered:

"Listen Clo--my dearest Clo, let me explain. It is not my fault. I knew that woman--long ago--"

She raised her head and with the fury of a betrayed woman, she cried disconnectedly: "Ah, you miserable fellow--what a rascal you are! Is it possible? What disgrace, oh, my G.o.d! You gave her my money--did you not? I gave him the money--for that woman--oh, the wretch!"

For several moments she seemed to be vainly seeking an epithet more forcible. Suddenly leaning forward she grasped the cabman's sleeve.

"Stop!" she cried, and opening the door, she alighted. Georges was about to follow her but she commanded: "I forbid you to follow me," in a voice so loud that the pa.s.sers-by crowded around her, and Duroy dared not stir for fear of a scandal.

She drew out her purse, and taking two francs fifty from it, she handed it to the cabman, saying aloud: "Here is the money for your hour. Take that rascal to Rue Boursault at Batignolles!"

The crowd applauded; one man said: "Bravo, little one!" and the cab moved on, followed by the jeers of the bystanders.

CHAPTER VI.

A STEP UPWARD

The next morning Georges Duroy arose, dressed himself, and determined to have money; he sought Forestier. His friend received him in his study.

"What made you rise so early?" he asked.

"A very serious matter. I have a debt of honor."

"A gaming debt?"

He hesitated, then repeated: "A gaming debt."

"Is it large?"

"Five hundred francs." He only needed two hundred and eighty.

Forestier asked sceptically: "To whom do you owe that amount?"

Duroy did not reply at once. "To--to--a--M. de Carleville."

"Ah, where does he live?"

"Rue--Rue--"

Forestier laughed. "I know the gentleman! If you want twenty francs you can have them, but no more."

Duroy took the gold-piece, called upon more friends, and by five o'clock had collected eighty francs. As he required two hundred more, he kept what he had begged and muttered: "I shall not worry about it. I will pay it when I can."

For two weeks he lived economically, but at the end of that time, the good resolutions he had formed vanished, and one evening he returned to the Folies Bergeres in search of Rachel; but the woman was implacable and heaped coa.r.s.e insults upon him, until he felt his cheeks tingle and he left the hall.

Forestier, out of health and feeble, made Duroy's existence at the office insupportable. The latter did not reply to his rude remarks, but determined to be avenged. He called upon Mme. Forestier. He found her reclining upon a couch, reading. She held out her hand without rising and said: "Good morning, Bel-Ami!"

"Why do you call me by that name?"

She replied with a smile: "I saw Mme. de Marelle last week and I know what they have christened you at her house."

He took a seat near his hostess and glanced at her curiously; she was a charming blonde, fair and plump, made for caresses, and he thought: "She is certainly nicer than the other one." He did not doubt that he would only have to extend his hand in order to gather the fruit. As he gazed upon her she chided him for his neglect of her.

He replied: "I did not come because it was for the best--"

"How? Why?"

"Why? Can you not guess?"