Paul and His Dog Volume I Part 21

"Or that she laughed at him!"

"I a.s.sure you that she did not laugh at me! In the first place, she unmasked, and I saw the most captivating face. These ladies are very pretty most a.s.suredly, but my superb brunette would throw them all into the shade!"

"I say, Spaniard, do you know that you make us tired with your brunette!"

"If she wouldn't come to supper with you," said little Amelia, "that proves right away that she was intending to take supper with someone else, doesn't it, mesdames?"

"Yes, yes; Amelia is right."

"Oh! you are mistaken, mesdames; it isn't at all as you imagine."

"Well, Chamoureau, where do you expect to see your wonderful conquest again? has she given you an a.s.signation?"

"She has done more, my dear fellow: she has given me her address, with permission to call on her--at her hotel!"

"So she has a hotel--furnished probably."

"And when he goes to ask for his charmer, the concierge will say: 'It's on such a floor, monsieur, such a number; the numbers are on the doors'--Ha! ha!"

"Laugh away! laugh all you please! 'He laughs best who laughs last!'"

"The moment you begin on proverbs, I haul down my flag. But where does your conquest live? Perhaps I know her house."

"Freluchon, ask me for my fortune, ask me for my life----"

"You wouldn't give 'em to me, I know; go on."

"I would give them to you rather than tell you the name and abode of my fascinating brunette!"

"Oho! is it as bad as that?"

"I have sworn to be discreet, and I shall keep my oath! If I hadn't promised, it would be a different matter."

"Inasmuch as you have sworn--you will tell us the whole thing at dessert!"

"Never!--better a thousand times to be a widower!"

"Bravo! that's not bad! I'll remember it!"

"You are making me talk nonsense, Freluchon; but in Carnival time----"

"Join me, mesdames and messieurs; I drink to Chamoureau's mysterious conquest!"

"Good! here's her health!"

"For my part, I won't drink it," said the marchioness; "don't you do it, mesdames; he had the face to say that she was prettier than we are!"

"Forgive him, mesdames; pa.s.sion makes him blind."

"I am rather inclined to think that he's drunk."

Chamoureau did not stint himself while the young men were talking and laughing with their companions, but addressed himself constantly to the decanters within his reach, saying to himself:

"Ah! these strumpets won't drink to my conquest! All right! I'll drink to her myself, in madeira and champagne! To your health, seductive, enrapturing Sainte-Suzanne! You are as far above these lights-o'-love as the oak is above the weed! You could crush them by a single glance; your eyes shine like real diamonds, whereas all these creatures are simply white topazes--To your health again, divine woman! I drain my gla.s.s to you."

By dint of drinking of healths and draining his gla.s.s, Chamoureau fuddled himself completely; then his head grew heavy, his eyes closed, and he fell asleep.

Our sleeper was awakened by a succession of light taps on his shoulder.

He opened his eyes and looked about him. He was still in the small room where he had supped, surrounded by the remains of the feast; but all his table companions had disappeared, and he saw n.o.body but the waiter who had roused him.

"Hallo! what's the meaning of this?" murmured Chamoureau, rubbing his eyes. "Where are my friends--those gentlemen--and their ladies?"

"They all went away just a minute ago, monsieur."

"What! they went away without me, without waking me!"

"Yes, monsieur, they did it on purpose. I was going to wake you, but Monsieur Freluchon said: 'No, don't wake him till we're gone; that will teach him to go to sleep in our company!'"

"Oh! how stupid! some silly nonsense, some wretched joke all the time!

Why, bless my soul! it's broad daylight!"

"Parbleu! long ago, monsieur! it's nearly eight o'clock."

"Sapristi! and I have to go to Freluchon's to change my clothes!

However, there are plenty of cabs, luckily. Is there anything for me to pay, waiter?"

"No, monsieur, it's all paid."

"Good!--To think that I haven't an overcoat to hide this costume!

Freluchon is to blame for that; 'you won't be cold,' he said.--It isn't the cold I'm afraid of, but the street urchins.--Call a cab, waiter; have it come as near the door as possible."

"Bless me! monsieur, they ain't allowed to come on the sidewalk."

"Well, then, right in front of the door."

Chamoureau covered himself with his cloak as well as he could; he pulled his cap over his eyes, drew his chin inside his ruff, pulled up his boot-tops, and when the waiter announced that the cab was waiting below, rushed down the stairway and across the sidewalk so recklessly that he nearly overturned a woman carrying a tray of bread.

The woman shouted after Chamoureau, who had knocked off three loaves, calling him: "Beast, brute, dirty sc.u.m!" But he let her shout, for he was already out of sight inside the cab; he gave Freluchon's address and the cab drove away followed by the hoots of the urchins who had gathered to see a masker, and by the shrieks of the woman with the tray on her head, who was obliged to pick up her loaves.

They soon reached the house on Rue Saint-Georges in which Freluchon lived. Chamoureau leaped out of his cab under the porte cochere, and hastily paid the cabman and dismissed him; because, in his everyday clothes, he could easily walk home.

That transaction completed, the widower said to the concierge:

"I am going up to Freluchon's room."

"What for?" demanded the concierge, eyeing the Spaniard from head to foot.

"What for? why, don't you know me? I am Chamoureau, Freluchon's best friend."