San-Cravate; or, The Messengers; Little Streams Part 7

"Never fear; I didn't get the sobriquet of Ficelle for nothing. He shall not know where I am going."

"Very well."

Celestin turned his back on the messenger, and joined Albert, who had returned to the boulevard.

Tobie Pigeonnier, meanwhile, had led Paul under a porte cochere, and there, after making sure that he was so far away from his two friends that they could not hear him, he said to the messenger:

"My boy, are you clever, faithful, and intelligent?"

Paul gazed in surprise at the little fellow who asked him the question with an air of mystery, as if he were about to admit him to the secret of a conspiracy.

"As to being faithful, monsieur," he replied, "it is my duty; I should be doubly guilty in my calling, if I betrayed the confidence of those who are good enough to employ me. At all events, monsieur, I am well known in the quarter, and you can inquire about me. As to my cleverness and intelligence, I have, as a general rule, had no difficulty in carrying out my instructions."

"Good, very good. I see that you are not too dull; you are the man for me, for I detest dull-witted people. Listen to me with the closest attention; stay--let us go a little farther; I have reasons for not wanting those gentlemen to hear what I have to say to you. There--let us stop in this corner. You will go---- By the way, what is your name?"

"Paul, monsieur."

"Paul; very good. You will go to the Temple, Paul, to the Temple Market--you know--where they sell clothing and linen for both s.e.xes, and footwear too."

"I know the place, monsieur."

"You will go into the market, near the rotunda, where the stalls are,--they are called _ayons_,--to the part occupied by the milliners."

"Does monsieur mean the dealers in old hats?"

"Old hats!--why, they sell new ones too, and wreaths of flowers, almost new, and ladies' caps--in fact, all the pretty gewgaws that women always dote on. You will ask for Madame Abraham--she is well known--she is one of the largest dealers in the place."

"Madame Abraham; very well, monsieur."

"You will hand her this letter. Do you know how to read?"

Paul could not restrain a faint smile as he replied:

"Oh! yes, monsieur; very well."

"So much the better; I am very glad, because, in that case, you won't make any blunder."

But as he was not fully convinced that the messenger had told him the truth, Monsieur Tobie held up the letter he was about to give him, and said:

"What does that say?"

"_To Madame Agar Abraham, wholesale milliner, Marche du Temple._"

"That's right, that's quite right; you read perfectly. You will give this letter, then, to Madame Abraham, and she will hand you some money for me; I have funds invested in her business. You will take the money, and--and----"

At that point, Tobie, seeing that a gentleman and lady were pa.s.sing, raised his voice almost to a shout, and threw his head back and his chest forward:

"You will bring it to me at the Maison-Doree, where I dine to-night. I dine at the Maison-Doree; it is my favorite restaurant. You will ask the waiter for Monsieur Tobie Pigeonnier. I am very well known at the Maison-Doree."

"I understand, monsieur."

The people who were pa.s.sing being out of earshot, the stout youth continued in an undertone:

"One moment, Paul; that is not all. If by any chance--for we must provide for everything--if Madame Abraham should not give you any money for me--merchants are sometimes a little short--if, I say, Madame Abraham should give you nothing for me, then, and only then, you will go to the house where I live, on Rue de la Ferme-des-Mathurins--the address is on this other letter, and you know how to read. You will go there and give this letter to my concierge, Madame Pluchonneau,--the name is on the envelope,--and tell her you will wait for an answer. You may be obliged to wait some time, for I have told my concierge to do an errand for me. But you will wait in her lodge, she has a very fine lodge. Then my concierge, when she returns, will hand you some money, which you will bring to the Maison-Doree."

"Very good, monsieur."

"You are sure that you understand, messenger? If you receive money from Madame Abraham, who will doubtless hand you with it a memorandum of the amount, then it will not be necessary to go to my house, and you will bring back the letter for Madame Pluchonneau. But if you get nothing at the Temple, then go to Rue de la Ferme-des-Mathurins."

"I understand perfectly, monsieur."

"Off with you, young Paul! You can send word to me by the waiter; don't give me my answer before those other gentlemen. Secrecy, above all things!"

"Very good, monsieur."

"Go! I will give you a handsome _pourboire._"

And Tobie Pigeonnier returned to the boulevard and joined his friends, who shouted to him when he came in sight:

"Come on! What a long while it takes you to send a message to your charmers!"

"Here I am, messieurs. Oh! a man has to show some consideration. Let us be fickle, if you will, but we must not forget to be gallant; that is my nature."

While the young men walked away, the messengers came together again.

Sans-Cravate held up the five-franc piece he had received, crying:

"Paid in advance! a cart-wheel! what do you think of that! There's a generous young man for you! I would fight for him."

"But you probably have got to go a long way for him," said Jean Ficelle, with affected indifference.

"Oh, no! nothing at all. First to Rue Neuve-Vivienne--only two steps; then to his house on Rue Caumartin, and from there to the Maison-Doree.

It's all right in the quarter."

Jean Ficelle's eyes twinkled when he learned that Sans-Cravate was going to Rue Neuve-Vivienne, and he made haste to say:

"I have got to go much farther than that--Faubourg Saint-Honore--and I ain't paid in advance."

"And I, too," said Paul, placing his _crochets_ behind a porte cochere, "have got a long way to go, and I'm afraid it will take a long while."

"Where are you going?" asked Jean Ficelle.

"The gentleman who employed me told me not to talk; so it doesn't seem to me that I ought to tell where he sends me."

"Bah! you sneak!" muttered Jean, with a shrug.

"Well, my friends," said Sans-Cravate, as he donned his fur cap, "the day ends well. I don't know whether you'll be paid as generously as me; but, at all events, I'll treat; let's have supper together to-night at my regular little wine shop on Rue Saint-Lazare. Does that hit you?"

"It does me," replied Jean Ficelle; "we'll meet there to-night, then; it's agreed."