San-Cravate; or, The Messengers; Little Streams - novelonlinefull.com
You’re read light novel San-Cravate; or, The Messengers; Little Streams Part 98 online at NovelOnlineFull.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit NovelOnlineFull.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
"Yes, and I counted on you to find her for me."
"Oh! that's easy enough! I'll ask Sara and Clara and Cora--they know so many of those women. In two days I shall be able to give you all the information you want concerning this honest tradeswoman."
"Very well. To a.s.sist you in your investigations, you can say that she arranges marriages."
"That's very definite! they all do."
"Really! I fancy that they disarrange a good many too. No matter--do my errand; I leave you to your radish and your fried potatoes; don't eat too much. You will see me again in three days; and if I have found my man, we will have, not stewed rabbit, but a salmi of truffled partridges together."
Three days later, Dodichet called again on Mademoiselle Boulotte, and found her still at work on her mineral rouge, for which she hoped to obtain a patent. Dodichet was radiant; he waltzed into the room, and began by taking the _figurante_ in his arms and whirling her about without giving her time to put down her brick and her hammer, despite her cries:
"Let go, I say! or, at any rate, let me put down my brick!"
"Do you know the waltz from _L'Auberge des Adrets_, Boulotte--the one Frederick used to dance so well in his picturesque costume as Robert Macaire? I can dance that waltz just a little."
"Let me put down my brick. Pshaw! there it goes, and it's all smashed!"
"Well! as long as you were going to smash it with a hammer anyway, you have so much less to do."
"That's different. I shall lose half of it on the floor! What in the world's the matter with you to-day that makes you so gay?"
"Parbleu! I have found my man--my Sicilian."
"Ah! the man with a secret?"
"Just so."
"And he's a Sicilian?"
"Yes, a Sicilian from Pontoise. Ah! what a fool I am! what did I say that for? Don't repeat that, Boulotte, I beg you. If you ever see me anywhere with a man you don't know, don't let the word Pontoise escape you--or everything's over between us!"
"What silly nonsense is this you are giving me? You act like a crazy man!"
"Let's drop that. Have you done my errand?"
"Yes, monsieur; I have done your errand. I was sure that Rosa, who knows all the second-hand clothes women in Paris, would know her; she sold her not long ago a steel comb, which she owed to the munificence of an Englishman, with two teeth broken----"
"The Englishman?"
"No, the comb!"
"Very good. Rosa's one of your companions at the theatre, isn't she? a brunette with yellow eyes, and complexion to match?"
"Yes, but never mind about her; you promised me a salmi of partridges if you found your man with the secret--you see--I didn't say, your man from Pontoise."
"Hush! imprudent girl! I was coming to the salmi in a minute, when I spoke about Rosa. Our feast will take place at her room--day after to-morrow, at noon, to give her time to tell Putiphar to come there that day about one; I shall be there, you understand, and I shall have told you and Rosa what to say to her so that my plan may succeed."
"Are you going to play a joke on someone?"
"To be sure."
"Never fear, then! we'll tell her all the foolish stuff you want."
"I have never doubted it. It's understood, then--day after to-morrow, at twelve o'clock, at Rosa's.--Does she still live on Rue de Lancry?"
"Yes."
"I promise you a breakfast of swallows' nests, like the Chinese."
"No, no, I don't want that! The idea of eating birds' nests! what a horror!"
"Then we will transform them into charlotte russe."
"All right! Order the breakfast at Lecomte's, corner of Rue de Lancry and the boulevard; that's a nice restaurant."
"Never you fear; I know the good places."
Mademoiselle Rosa, Boulotte's fellow _figurante_, occupied a small fourth-floor apartment on Rue de Lancry, very daintily furnished; for, although she had yellow eyes and complexion, she always had richer protectors than several of her companions who were far prettier than she. Why was that? I decline to tell you.
On the appointed day, about half-past twelve, Dodichet was seated at the table, between Boulotte and Rosa, in the tiny dining-room of the latter's apartment. The table was covered with dishes, upon which they had already made savage attacks, and with bottles embellished with divers seals and containing wines of different colors.
They were in very high spirits, laughing while they ate, and drinking while they laughed.
"Mesdemoiselles," said Dodichet, uncorking a bottle of champagne, "I have told you the joke--the jest--the trick, in fact, which I want to play. You have promised to help me."
"We promise again."
"I swear it by my lover's hair!" said Rosa.
"Oho! but I believe your lover's bald, isn't he?--However, never mind--you know what you're to say to Madame Putiphar when she comes?"
"Oh! we know our roles; you'll be content with us."
"But the woman doesn't come! suppose she should go back on us?"
"No danger! I told her I wanted a brooch."
"For your kitchen?"[Q]
"Why, no; to wear at my neck. Hark--someone is ringing--I'll bet that's she!"
And, in a moment, the maid came in and said to Rosa:
"Madame Putiphar is here."
"Well, show her in; she won't keep us from eating."
Almost on the instant there appeared a short but enormously stout woman, apparently somewhat between forty and fifty years of age; who had been, perhaps, in her prime, a piquant brunette, but was now simply a brunette without the piquancy, or rather a black; for her hair, whose thick plaits almost covered her cheeks, was of such a glossy ebon blackness that, at first sight, taken with her face, which was flushed and pimply, it made her head look as if it had been varnished. She was well supplied with clothes, too well supplied, in fact, for she wore two shawls,--a large one, with a smaller one over it,--a high collarette, with a cravat twisted round it; a cap, and over it a bonnet decorated with a lot of frippery; in addition, she carried a flat box under her arm, which led Dodichet to observe: