San-Cravate; or, The Messengers; Little Streams Part 70

While the b.u.mpkin stood rooted to the spot, dazed by the loss of his money, a mechanic approached the table, and, after looking on for some time, observed:

"I like _biribi_ better."

"Here you are, monsieur! here's the _biribi_ you're looking for!" cried the sharper, producing three cards from an ap.r.o.n which he wore, and in which was an enormous pocket whose gaping mouth seemed ready to engulf all the silver and loose change of the a.s.sembled company.

While the sharper arranged his _biribi_ table, and made his three cards fly about with remarkable dexterity, another mechanic, who had followed his comrade, said to him:

"Come away, Benoit; don't bet! Those games are a fraud, you know that everyone always loses."

"What's that, monsieur, you say that everyone always loses with me?"

cried the croupier, having first cleared his throat in order to speak more volubly. "Why, in that case, you can't have been present at all the throws I lost just now. Ask the honorable company here present if I haven't paid out more than a hundred francs within half an hour--yes, monsieur, a hundred francs! And I don't put it too high, and I don't count a silver watch that that gentleman over yonder won from me--the one with the handsome whiskers; and ear-rings--of pure gold, hall-marked, that I redeemed for twelve francs from that short young man who looks so happy, and who means to give the money to his virtuous mother, who has longed for a cup of chocolate for sixty years!--Isn't this so, my little man?--You see, he shows you his twelve francs and presses them to his heart. Oh, no! no one ever wins with me, messieurs!

But, I tell you, this game is absolutely free from trickery; it is simply for you to guess where the card called _biribi_ is. It isn't my fault when you guess wrong. The sums I have already lost are enormous!

But if I should tell you that I always lose, I should lie; no, messieurs, I don't always lose; but you have an even chance, if you have a sharp eye, if you pick it out of three cards--that's very few--three--only three cards; if you pick out _biribi_, why, Jean-Pierre is certainly in the hole. Come, messieurs, make your bets! I pay cash, my pockets are well lined! there's plenty of the _quibus_! it rests with you whether it pa.s.ses from my pockets into yours."

The gambler concluded his discourse by slapping the pocket which contained his money; and the workingman, bewildered by that torrent of words poured forth without pausing to take breath, made up his mind to try his luck; he followed with his eyes the three cards which Jean-Pierre moved about on the table, from right to left and left to right, with a rapidity which made the eyes ache; then, believing that he was sure of his card, he placed upon it all the money he had received for his week's wages, which was all that his family had to live upon.

"Will you take all that at once?" he cried excitedly.

"Why not, monsieur? Jean-Pierre never weakens; he takes whatever you choose--your clothes or your handkerchiefs, if you haven't any money!

Jean-Pierre will do anything to please you."

"Let her go, then; that one's _biribi_! Turn it over."

The gambler turned the card--the workman had lost; he was crestfallen and speechless with dismay, and the peasant, who also had been stripped, laughed stupidly and said:

"He ain't any smarter than I am, he ain't."

Meanwhile, spurred on by Jean Ficelle, who claimed to be certain that he could tell him how to win, Sans-Cravate was about to give way to the temptation to try his hand at _biribi_, when a confederate ran up; he had sighted a police officer on the horizon. In an instant, the games were folded up and carried off by the Jean-Pierres, who ran as fast as their legs would carry them; while their dupes remained behind, feeling in their empty pockets, and trying to decide--one of them, whether he should return to his village without the proceeds of the sale of his produce; the other, whether he dared face his children, who would ask him for money with which to buy bread.

Sans-Cravate and Jean Ficelle walked away.

"We arrived too late," said the latter; "it's too bad! I have an idea that we would have broken the bank, and then what a spree we'd have had!

we wouldn't have worked for a week!"

"For my part, I am glad I didn't play," said Sans-Cravate; "the money goes too fast that way; and then, too, gambling's a miserable business!"

"Oh! _ouiche!_ as if a man mustn't have some fun out of life! weren't we born to enjoy ourselves? Only sneaks, like Paul, talk that way. For my part, I claim that gambling's the spice of life; look you, I'll give you a comparison----"

"Pshaw! there's a wine shop yonder; I like that better than your _biribi_."

As the two friends were about to enter the wine shop, a man behind them hailed them:

"So you're too proud to speak to a friend, eh?"

They both turned, and Jean Ficelle uttered a joyful exclamation.

"Why, it's Laboussole!" he said; "old Laboussole! Well, this is a surprise!"

It was, in fact, Monsieur Laboussole who stood before them; but his aspect was a little less shabby than formerly: he wore a frock-coat of chestnut-colored beaver, abnormally full, and so long that he almost walked on it; it was plain that the garment was not made for him, but that did not prevent him from carrying it with a swagger, and looking down at himself often with a complacent expression, as if admiring his coat. His hat was the same one; but instead of the strip of bed ticking for a cravat, Monsieur Laboussole wore a black stock, which was not absolutely new, but nevertheless imparted to its wearer a sort of bellicose aspect. Add a pair of moustaches which were as yet in their infancy, and which persisted in growing black on one side and gray on the other, and you can form an idea of Laboussole as he accosted the two messengers.

"Well, well! is it really you, old fellow?" continued Jean Ficelle, wringing Laboussole's hand. "It's a long time since I saw you--almost three months and a half."

"Yes," said Sans-Cravate, who seemed less delighted than his comrade by the meeting; "not since the day we drank together on Rue Saint-Lazare, and monsieur was arrested."

"Oh, yes! to be sure--I remember," said Laboussole, good-humoredly. "You were present at the time of my arrest, weren't you? A blunder, my boys, an unlucky blunder, and nothing else! They mistook me for another man; and after keeping me in prison two months, they let me go in a hurry.

They went so far as to make apologies--which I accepted--but it was almighty unpleasant, all the same. I was tempted to go to law, to make a claim for damages and interest; but everybody said to me: 'We've never had a doubt of your innocence; society has always done you justice, and that ought to satisfy you.'"

"_Pardi!_ I never believed you were guilty, and I've said so more than once to Sans-Cravate.--Ain't that so, Sans-Cravate? haven't I told you they did wrong to arrest Laboussole, because he was as white as my shirt?"

Sans-Cravate nodded his head; whereupon Laboussole seized his hand and shook it, saying:

"Your good opinion is very pleasant to me, my boys. Yes, I am quite as white as Jean Ficelle's shirt--perhaps a little whiter, even;--but I believe you were going into the wine shop; don't let me keep you."

"On the contrary, you're coming in to have a drink with us. Who ever heard of friends meeting without wetting their whistles?"

"With pleasure, my friends; let's go in; I was just thinking that I felt the need of moistening my lips."

The three men entered the wine shop. Jean Ficelle asked for a small private room, and they were shown into one where there were two tables, both unoccupied. Wine was brought, and the gla.s.ses were filled and emptied several times. Monsieur Laboussole seemed overjoyed to have met the two messengers; Jean Ficelle manifested equal satisfaction; and Sans-Cravate himself, after drinking three or four gla.s.ses of wine, became very good-humored.

"I say, old fellow," said Jean Ficelle, scrutinizing Laboussole, "seems to me, business must have been pretty good with you since we met. On my word, you're rigged out like a landholder of Ile Saint-Louis! _Bigre!_ what style!"

"Yes," replied Laboussole, drawing himself up in his beaver coat. "I'm in a very pretty line of business now. I have a position in an enterprise that is just being started; I have an idea that I'm going to make my fortune."

"The devil! there's nothing cheap about you!"

"What sort of a business is it?" asked Sans-Cravate.

"It's something new and ingenious, my friends; imagine, if you please, that a party of capitalists have conceived the idea of forming a company to insure against fleas and all insects that devour mankind; for, as you probably know, mankind is being decimated by insects, and, if we don't look out, the world will come to an end that way. Now, then, the company has a capital stock of a million. With a million francs, you see, it would beat the devil if they couldn't wipe out all the fleas in Europe. It's a magnificent chance; the shares are going up, up at a frightful rate!"

"Oh! I say! that's a funny kind of insurance!"

"Messieurs, everything is insured nowadays: life, fortune, women--yes, messieurs, a company's being formed to guarantee the fidelity of your wives and mistresses! There won't be any more cuckolds, messieurs. Think what a vast enterprise! and what an age--that will have seen it! But they haven't succeeded yet in raising money enough to start the thing; they need a lot of money, so it seems. Speaking of mistresses, what's become of your sweetheart Bastringuette? I don't see her with you, my dear Sans-Cravate; has she got the smallpox?"

"Oh! I haven't seen anything of her for a long time," replied Sans-Cravate, with a frown; "nor thought of her, either."

"Oho! did she do--what I mentioned just now?"

"Apparently."

"Come, come! let's not talk about Bastringuette," cried Jean Ficelle.

"You see, Laboussole, that it puts my comrade out of sorts."

"Oh! excuse me, my boys, excuse me! I was thoughtless; it was my friendship for you that misled me. Let's have a drink!"

"What's your position in the flea business, eh?"

"A very fine one--I am an inspector. We send clerks ahead to attend to destroying the insects; then I arrive at the house of the insured, I inspect the premises, I search everywhere; and after my visit, I defy you to find anything there at all."