The Milkmaid of Montfermeil Part 18

The ladies parted. Madame Destival went down to the salon, but Dalville was no longer there; he too had retired. So madame did the same and summoned Julie to undress her.

VI

THE COMPANY RETURNS TO PARIS

The night pa.s.sed. Did its protecting darkness banish Madame Destival's irritation and her husband's fatigue? Did Dalville determine to be virtuous, and Bertrand to be sober? Did the sprightly Athalie become reconciled to the necessity of sharing her husband's bed, and did Monsieur de la Thoma.s.siniere sleep well beside his wife? These are mysteries which I am unable to solve.

All I know is that Madame Destival rose with her friend's pleasant confidence of the night before still in her mind, and that she said to herself as she dressed:

"The flirt did everything that she could to a.s.sure the conquest of Auguste. I saw all her simpering and smiles while they were singing. No doubt she hopes to receive a declaration in due form this morning; but I am sorry for you, madame, for I shall be on the spot, I shall not let you out of my sight, I will not allow such intrigues to be carried on in my house. Oh! women are such coquettes nowadays!--I think I will put this rose in my hair; it's more becoming than a ribbon. Mon Dieu! how badly my curl-papers work to-day!--And then they complain because men think unfavorably of our s.e.x. Why, don't they justify them in that opinion by acting as they do? At the very first meeting, to let a man see that one is attracted by him--shocking! And a woman of twenty, married two years at most! Ah! Monsieur Auguste, you don't deserve any friends."

Monsieur Destival, on laying aside the silk handkerchief that covered his head at night, took his stand in front of his mirror and presented arms with a vessel which he had forgotten to replace in the night-table.

Forgetting that he was in his shirt, Destival, who had dreamed of exterminating all the beasts in the district, made the circuit of his chamber at the double-quick, and took aim at his bolster with the tongs.

But in that martial posture the remembrance of the forty francs he had lost at ecarte the night before presented itself to his mind, and as one cannot attend to business while practising the manual of arms, our friend recurred to more peaceable ideas and proceeded to dress, thinking of nothing but the best means to become as rich as La Thoma.s.siniere, so that he might be able to lose a few crowns at play without losing his temper.

Dalville dreamed a little of the fair Athalie, a little of the young milkmaid, a little of Madame Destival, also of some other persons; like one who has no exclusive sentiment in his heart, but allows himself to be led by all the sensations, all the illusions, all the whims of his imagination. He rose without any well-defined plan of operations, without a determination to be more virtuous or more enterprising, without any intention of beginning a new intrigue. Chance should decide, he would act as circ.u.mstances might suggest, he would obey the dictates of his heart, or rather of pleasure. For a heedless fellow, that line of conduct was not devoid of wisdom; if to abandon oneself to the course of events, to lay no plans in advance, but to seize on the wing every opportunity to be happy--if that is heedlessness, it bears a strong resemblance to philosophy; in which there is nothing surprising, since extremes meet.

Bertrand had risen before dawn, always ready to carry out his master's orders, even when he did not approve of his conduct. The ex-corporal was well pleased with his repast of the preceding night, because the beaune was not spared, and Baptiste and Tony and the tall lackeys, while drinking with him, listened with respectful attention to his stories of his campaigns. He was walking on the terrace, ready to give Monsieur Destival a lesson in the manual, and perfectly reconciled to the life that people lead in the country.

The pet.i.te-maitresse, whose head was as light as her heart, had risen very early, before her husband was awake. She had slept badly; innumerable thoughts crowded into her mind, but the princ.i.p.al one was as always the desire to attract, to make a sensation; that was the fixed point about which her other sentiments revolved by the force of gravitation, without disturbing the course of the planet whose satellites they were.

As for Monsieur de la Thoma.s.siniere, he had slept without waking, and in his dreams had imagined himself the _seigneur_ of a department, decorated with three crosses, a broad ribbon and a star, and richer, more conceited and more insolent than ever. Then he had found himself abruptly transported to the wine-shop of the _Learned a.s.s_, serving wine to peasants who treated him most cavalierly. That infernal sleep has no respect for anything; it displaces the most powerful men, and effects strange revolutions; it transforms a king into a shepherd, and sometimes raises the plowman to a throne; it confounds the great lord with the humblest plebeian; it makes of a minister of state a poor devil without bread or work or resource, starving in a garret; it transforms the banker into a petty clerk working fourteen hours a day to earn three francs; the poet who sells his pen, into a juggler employed to perform tricks before an audience which pays and despises him. To the kept woman it shows the hospital, to the public harlot, La Salpetriere, to the young men who frequent roulette tables, the galleys or the nets of Saint-Cloud. It reminds the parvenu of his birth, the public official of the acts of injustice he has committed, the man without sense of honor of the insults he has endured. And all these people do as Monsieur de la Thoma.s.siniere did: they awake shrieking that they have a nightmare, and they ascribe those horrid dreams to a bad digestion. They would be very sorry to seek therein a memory of the past and a lesson for the future.

There was no trace of the storm of the preceding evening. The sky was clear, and the country seemed lovelier than ever; the trees glistened with a brilliant green undimmed by dust, the flowers were fresher, the brooks more noisy; everything invited one to enjoy the charms of nature; and that doubtless was the reason that Auguste was already in the garden, standing in the gateway leading into the courtyard, undecided whether he should go for a walk in the fields or remain on the premises. Meanwhile, Athalie had taken a seat under a clump of trees at the end of the garden; she was occupied in arranging some flowers, but her glance constantly wandered to right and left to see if someone was coming to bear her company; while Madame Destival strolled along an adjacent alley ready to join the persons whom she expected to meet in the garden.

Suddenly Auguste heard a voice that was not unknown to him crying:

"Whoa, White Jean! whoa, I say! Have you forgotten that we stop here?"

And at the same instant a milkmaid with her tin cans entered Monsieur Destival's courtyard. Auguste uttered an exclamation of delight when he recognized Denise, and hurried across the courtyard to meet the pretty milkmaid.

"It is really you, lovely Denise!"

"Yes, monsieur, it's I. Didn't I tell you yesterday that I came here every morning to bring milk? I'm very glad to see you again, monsieur."

"Really, Denise, did you want to see me?"

"Yes, monsieur, I wanted to ever so. Oh! that was such a nice thing you did! it was so generous! and even if you do have a little too much blarney with us girls, no matter--I let it go on account of that."

"Bless my soul! what on earth have I done, Denise, to bring down all these compliments on my head?"

"What about Coco, and his soup-bowl, and his old grandmother--don't you remember them?"

"How do you know so much, Denise?"

"Pardi! as if everything wasn't known in the country! The old grandma'am came to the village to buy some things. Coco came with her, and he told everybody that a fine gentleman had given him money to buy another bowl. The grandmother described you, and I knew you right away. It's too bad that Pere Calleux is such a drunkard; he pa.s.sed the whole night in the wine-shop drinking up the crown piece you gave him, and he'll soon get away with the money you left for Coco too. But that ain't your fault, and you were mighty kind to 'em."

"I did nothing except what was perfectly natural, Denise, and I am well rewarded at this moment."

Denise had become more and more animated as she told Auguste what she knew, and the young man's glances made her blush more than ever. She lowered her eyes and smiled, and stood for some moments before the man who was gazing at her, her arms hanging at her sides. Her awkwardness, her embarra.s.sment and her coa.r.s.e woolen skirt made the charms of her pretty face even more alluring.

At last she took up her cans, which she had placed on the ground, and said:

"I must take this milk to Mamzelle Julie; she's generally up by this time."

"One moment, Denise, I beg you."

"Have you got anything to say to me, monsieur?"

"Oh, yes! In the first place, you look even prettier this morning than you did yesterday."

"Oh! if that's all it is, I may as well go."

"One instant, Denise, please; I feel that the more I see you, the more I love you!"

"Well, then, you mustn't see me any more, monsieur."

"Does it make you angry to have me love you?"

"Oh no! for I'm pretty sure it ain't dangerous."

"If you would listen to me----"

"Adieu, monsieur."

And Denise started to walk away. But Auguste took her hand and stopped her, gazing tenderly at her,--too tenderly for a fickle youth who gazed so at all pretty women. A seducer's eyes should express nothing but inconstancy; unluckily, the eyes lend themselves to every sort of scheme. But perhaps Dalville was moved at that moment by genuine feeling, who knows? Who can read the human heart?

At this juncture Bertrand entered the courtyard; he approached his master, unseen by him, and said:

"Did I hear monsieur call me?"

"Why, no! I didn't call you," replied Auguste angrily, dropping Denise's hand; "you always appear at the wrong time. Is it proper to interrupt people when they are talking together?"

"Pardon, lieutenant, I didn't hear you say anything; I didn't know people talked without speaking."

"Leave us, Bertrand."

Bertrand made a half wheel to the left and went toward the garden; but as he pa.s.sed Denise, who, although she said that she was going, did not go, and seemed very busy with her little cheeses, the corporal said to her in an undertone:

"Look out for yourself!"

Auguste once more approached Denise, who had started in surprise at Bertrand's words.

"What's the matter?" he asked.