The Barber of Paris Part 56

Urbain left Marguerite, he darted from the chamber and, in an instant, he faced the barber, whose cold and gloomy look contrasted with Urbain's excitement.

"Well, monsieur, what have you learned? what have you done to recover my bride," cried he. "Speak! what do you know?"

The barber, rendered rather uneasy by the vivacity of Urbain's questions, answered hesitatingly,--

"I have made a thousand inquiries, I can discover nothing."

"And this scoundrel who came here yesterday, who is he?"

"I hardly know him. He sometimes came into my shop, for what purpose I do not know, and I swear to you that he must have heard of Blanche's beauty, for he had never seen her, and formed the idea of introducing himself to her."

The barber appeared so sincere in p.r.o.nouncing these words that Urbain repented of having suspected him.

"Forgive me," said he, "for daring to think--but you would not make us unhappy. You have given me Blanche, you have been to her as a father.

Oh, you will join with me, will you not, in endeavoring to find her ravishers?"

"Yes," answered Touquet in a low tone, "I shall second you, I promise you."

"And the name of that man, you must know it?"

"I never dreamt of asking him his name. Yesterday, on my showing him immediately that his love for Blanche was a folly, he retired, making many threats to which I paid little attention."

"Who could have given him the information which led him to wish to see her? and how could he get into Blanche's room?"

"A few false keys would be sufficient for that, and in this city, you know, n.o.body is safe in his own house."

Urbain remained silent for some moments and the barber avoided his looks; finally the bachelor exclaimed,--

"Good-by, monsieur, I am going to seek for her whom you gave me to be my bride."

"May you be successful," answered the barber in a gloomy voice, as Urbain abruptly departed, thinking of nothing but Blanche, but not knowing where to direct his steps.

Urbain went first to the different gates of Paris; there he demanded if during the previous night anyone had seen a young woman pa.s.s, and gave a description of her. He was sure that everybody would notice Blanche, and that her charming features would fix themselves upon the memory; but he did not obtain the slightest information, they hardly answered him. His simple costume prevented their putting themselves out to oblige him, for in the good old times, as well as today, it was necessary to scatter gold in order to expedite any business.

"If all these people could know Blanche," said Urbain, "they would not show so much indifference."

Not daring to leave Paris without having some indication as to the way that he should take, Urbain continued to walk as chance led him in the capital, though the inhabitants had for some time retired to rest.

Thieves, lovers, and soldiers of the watch, alone showed themselves in the gloomy streets of Paris. The young bachelor traversed many streets without meeting anybody, but he still walked on, saying,--

"Why should I go in, I could not sleep, and what could I do with myself at home?"

However, love and despair do not render one indefatigable. Urbain had been walking since eight o'clock in the evening, and it was now nearly three o'clock in the morning. His legs began to fail him, he felt that it would soon be impossible for him to go any further. He looked around him. The moon, which showed at intervals, allowed him to distinguish the junction of some lonely cross roads into which converged some lanes which led to the marshes. Urbain turned towards a large stone which he perceived some steps from him, for he thought he would there seat himself and wait for day, but as he reached the stone his feet struck against something which he had not perceived, and a voice immediately exclaimed,--

"Oh, by jingo! don't kill me; I haven't a sou now."

CHAPTER VIII

THE CHaTEAU DE SARCUS

The carriage which contained the unfortunate Blanche bowled steadily along for several hours, and in the excitement occasioned by this novel journey, the lovely child hardly remembered her former fears. After living in the most absolute retirement, shut up for years in a single room except at meal times, it seemed like a dream to find herself in a carriage in the middle of the night, and alone journeying into the wide world, she knew not whither. However, the noise of the wheels and of the horses' feet, mingled with the cracking of the postilion's whip, as he sought to increase the speed of his horses, which were already going like the wind, and the rocking of the vehicle as it swayed from side to side alarmed her very much and persuaded her of the reality of her situation.

"I am going to see Urbain," said the trembling traveller to herself, "I am going to rejoin him; I should not give way to my fears, we are going to be so happy. Why, since we are about to be united forever, should I feel anything but pleasure at hastening the moment? But then, I had hoped to travel with Urbain and everything has turned out so differently. Poor Urbain, it's not his fault; but why did he fight? Oh, I am so anxious to be with him!--and Marguerite didn't even say good-by to me. It seems as though everybody had abandoned me."

The sweet girl dried the tears which had moistened her eyes, then she looked out of the windows, but the darkness prevented her from seeing anything; she sighed and sank back in the carriage.

"Where are we? I don't know, but it seems to me they are going very fast. Well, so much the better, I shall be the sooner with Urbain."

As soon as day began to break, Blanche, who kept looking out of the windows, could partly distinguish trees, fields, and houses. Presently the mist was entirely dissipated, and the young traveller admired the glory of the dawn, and the varied scenes which seemed to fly before her.

Soon the carriage rolled along a road bordered only by trees and hedges; the branches of some old trees from time to time brushed the top of the carriage, and this unexpected sound made the inexperienced traveller tremble. All of a sudden the view extended widely; the road was edged with meadows and rich fields. The laborers were already going to their work; already the furrows made by the plough could be seen, and the spade had newly broken the sweet-smelling earth. The trees were still bare of foliage, but the tips of the branches were reddened and about to break into bud. Everything announced the return of spring. Farther on they pa.s.sed through a village, the early rising inhabitants of which could be seen at their doors or their windows, hastening to watch the carriage pa.s.sing so rapidly. Contentment and health were pictured on the face of each peasant; it was their only ornament, for cleanliness and neatness are not distinguishing traits of the country people, whose children play on the manure heap, pell-mell with the ducks and geese.

But nature is not always pleasing, and it is not in the outskirts of Paris that one must seek for the shepherds of Florian, the herdsmen of Bertin, the seductive villagers of our comic operas.

Country scenes always please the pure and simple mind, and Blanche, as she pa.s.sed the villages and farms, and hamlets, exclaimed,--

"How delightful to live here, to walk, to run in the fields and in the woods! Oh, how happy I shall be with Urbain!"

Indeed, the fields and the woods bore a more smiling aspect than the Rue des Bourdonnais, and the barber's gloomy house.

The carriage did not stop; the postilions had orders to speed straight to the chateau, though the horses should die at the journey's end.

Blanche did not know how far from Paris was Urbain's house and country, besides, she did not remember ever before being in a carriage, and it seemed to her that in moving so quickly they must have gone a very long way. About an hour after midday they pa.s.sed through the pretty town of Grandvilliers, where a great number of manufactories afforded work and means to the inhabitants; but they did not stop there, and the carriage, turning to the right, crossed a wide plain and diverged towards a building which could be seen at a little distance, and which was justly called the wonder of the country side. It was the Chateau de Sarcus, of which the elegant facade could be discerned in the distance. Blanche perceived the chateau, but she was far from thinking that her journey would terminate there, though she gazed at that magnificent dwelling and, as the carriage rolled nearer, she could easily distinguish the sculptures and admire the work of artists who had surpa.s.sed themselves in order to merit the approbation of that gallant monarch, who patronized the arts as much as he admired beauty.

At last they reached the front of the chateau, and the carriage, in place of pa.s.sing, entered the confines of this handsome domain.

"Well, now, what is the matter?" said Blanche trying to open the door.

"This is not the place, this cannot be right; Urbain hasn't a big house like this--the coachman is mistaken."

However, the carriage stopped in a s.p.a.cious courtyard. A servant in rich livery opened the door, and with a respectful air offered his hand to help Blanche alight.

"Oh, no, I don't wish to get down," said the innocent child, looking at the servant in astonishment, "this is not the place I was coming to; certainly they are mistaken, this is a chateau, it cannot be Urbain's house; besides, he would have been very prompt to meet me."

"No, madame, they are not mistaken," answered Germain, the marquis's valet, who had arrived two hours before the carriage, in order that he might give instructions to the house porter, and have rooms prepared for Blanche. "Your journey terminates here, and everything is in readiness to receive you."

"Here?" said Blanche, as she lightly stepped from the carriage, and looked around her in surprise, "but where is he?"

"He has not yet arrived, madame," said Germain, who had received strict orders to name n.o.body and to answer the young girl in conformity with the ideas she had formed in regard to her journey.

"What, he's not here yet? and I believe he started before me. He hasn't come here directly, then? Oh, I understand! fearing lest he be pursued, he has been obliged to hide and to make some detours."

"That's it, I am quite sure," answered the valet, smiling, "and I don't think he can get here before evening."

"Poor Urbain, how tiresome to have to wait until this evening."

"If madame desires to follow me, I will lead her to the apartments which have been hastily prepared for her."

"I'm not madame, my name is Blanche. We are not yet married, but as soon as he arrives I hope to be his wife. Show me the way, monsieur, I will follow you."