The Barber of Paris Part 26

Julia went downstairs. Although it was in the depth of winter the morning was beautiful; the young Italian left by the peristyle and plunged into the gardens, where she walked up and down the long pathways and gave herself up to her thoughts.

Day had surprised Marcel and his guest sleeping near the table where they had supped. Marcel awoke first, recalled his ideas, and could not conceive why his master had not returned in the night. However, the door-bell hung in the room where they had slept, and the marquis was a man who was able to make himself heard.

Marcel pushed Chaudoreille, who opened his little eyes and gazed about him in astonishment, murmuring,--

"By jingo! I am not at home in the Rue Brise-miche nor in the gambling den on the Rue Vide-Gousset. Where the devil have I pa.s.sed the night? My purse--where is my purse? I had eight crowns in it."

Chaudoreille quickly seized his purse and counted his money, and Marcel said to him,--

"Come, wake up, why don't you? and remember where you are. Do you think me capable of robbing you?"

"Good-for-nothing that I am! that good fellow Marcel--I remember everything now. Forgive me, my friend; but at the first moment I thought I was at a tavern where I sleep sometimes. What the devil! it's broad daylight."

"Yes, and monsieur le marquis did not come in during the night; I can't understand why."

"It is rather singular, and that poor little thing whom we took so much trouble to bring here, what has she done with herself since yesterday?"

"She's slept the same as we have."

"Ah, my dear Marcel, it's easily seen that you have not studied the s.e.x.

Sleep!--a woman who is waiting her vanquisher for the first time? She would sooner keep awake all night than go to sleep."

"But when the vanquisher doesn't come, it's necessary for her to do something."

"Never! never I tell you. Wait, here's an example: I had once arranged a meeting with a baroness on the borders of the Seine, near the Tour de Nesle; that also was in winter, and it was horribly cold. Unforeseen events--a duel--prevented my meeting my beauty. I was wounded, and spent eight days in bed. On the ninth, as I pa.s.sed the neighborhood indicated, by chance, whom should I see there?"

"Your baroness?"

"Exactly. But, the poor woman, she had been frozen for four days, and that because she would not leave the place of rendezvous."

"Our dame has a good fire and everything that she can desire; she won't freeze while awaiting my master."

"What do you say, Marcel; shall I go upstairs and chat pleasantly with her to distract her mind a little?"

"No, indeed, that would be displeasing to monsieur le marquis."

"Well, you're right; I suppose he might take offence at it."

"Don't you think you had much better go and find the person who brought her here, and tell him that monsieur has not come?"

"No, my dear Marcel; Touquet told me to wait here for the marquis'

orders, and I must follow his instructions. If he does not come for a fortnight, it's all the same to me; I shall not leave this. You have a good cellar and plenty of provisions of all kinds, and I find it very comfortable here; only, I must go out and get some cards for the coming night, and I'll teach you some tricks which you don't understand."

"All right, I'll go and get our breakfast ready; then I'll go and inquire whether the young lady wants anything."

"That will do; meanwhile I'll take a turn in the garden and make the acquaintance of your Hercules."

Chaudoreille arranged his mantle, put on his new ruff, which he had bought by chance, which pleased him greatly because it came up to his ears. He brushed up his hat, curled his hair anew, and went into the garden whistling,--

Viens Aurore, Je t'implore;

a song which good King Henri had brought into fashion. He paused with an air of defiance before the statues, and made a grimace at those which had frightened him the evening before.

At the end of the pathway he perceived Julia, seated in a thicket which, as yet, was devoid of foliage. The young girl was deep in thought, and had not heard him approach. Chaudoreille reflected, uncertain whether he should approach her or whether he should pa.s.s on his way. He concluded to do the first, and drew near her, holding his left hand on his hip, and, throwing his body back, already beginning to smile. Julia raised her luminous eyes; but, on recognizing Chaudoreille, a look of humor flashed over her features, and she said sharply,--

"What do you want with me?"

Chaudoreille paused, arrested in the middle of his smile, and could not find words to answer her.

"Why were you coming to me?" resumed Julia; "is the marquis here, or his confidant, the barber Touquet?"

"No, beautiful lady, I am at present alone with you and Marcel in the house. I have pa.s.sed the night in watching over your safety, believing that the marquis would arrive."

"Who is this Marcel? the servant who opened the door to us, I suppose."

"Precisely!"

"He has served the marquis for a long time in this house?"

"No, I believe he has only been here four or five years."

"And you, when did you come here?"

"I came yesterday for the first time."

Julia was silent and Chaudoreille resumed after a moment,--

"Are you acquainted with my intimate friend, the barber Touquet?"

"What does that matter to you," asked the young Italian, glancing scornfully at Chaudoreille.

"It's nothing to me, certainly--but, since you named him--he's a very worthy fellow, certainly, and I am honored in being his friend."

"That reflects credit on you," said Julia, smiling ironically.

"Yes, most a.s.suredly," resumed Chaudoreille, who had interpreted Julia's smile to his own advantage, "we have seen fire together. He is brave, I'll give him justice for that; he always conducts himself honorably."

"Always? And has he sometimes spoken to you of his parents?--of his father?"

"My faith, no; I don't believe he was born from the higher cla.s.ses. In that matter I am infinitely before him; the Chaudoreilles are of very pure blood and have a stock which goes back to Noah. Under Charles the Bald one of my ancestors had himself shaved--"

"What does it matter what your ancestors did? I was talking about the barber's family."

"That's all right; but my friend Touquet has spoken very little to me about them. I believe he is from Lorraine and he has told me that he left his country very early and came very young to Paris, for it is only there that talent has a chance of success; also Touquet has made money, and me, thank G.o.d, I am--"

Here Chaudoreille's eyes wandered over his doublet, which was stained in many places, and he covered it with his mantle, resuming,--

"I should be very rich if I had not ruined myself for women."