The Milkmaid of Montfermeil Part 30

"Remember, Tapotte, that I am your master, and that I have a right to know everything."

"I don't know what you want to know!"

"Monsieur le marquis kissed you."

"What's a marquis?"

"A magnificent man! rather short and fat, almost bald, about fifty years old, and with an eye-gla.s.s--_lorgnon_--on one side."

"Oh! he's a marquis, is he? I don't know whether he had an onion--_ognon_--on one side, but he smelt pretty strong of liquor--I know that."

"Don't think that I mean to scold you, Tapotte; far from it! I simply want to know what he said to you, so as to do it like a marquis, when I have the opportunity."

"Why, bless me, he went about it the same way they all do. In the first place, he squeezed me."

"Good."

"Then he squeezed me again."

"Good."

"Oh, yes! good! good!--I yelled."

"You did wrong, he was a marquis!"

"I don't care, when he hurt me. And then--well since it amuses you, why, he kissed me."

"Good."

"He wouldn't let me go; he swore I'd got to say I'd meet him; but I wouldn't."

"You were wrong! You're a fool, Tapotte! You shouldn't have refused monsieur le marquis."

"Bah! get along with you! He's old and he's ugly!"

This conversation suggested an idea to our hare-brained youth; he wrapped his head in his handkerchief, and began to cough and spit, imitating the decidedly nasal notes of the marquis.

"Mon Dieu! there's some one outside!" cried La Thoma.s.siniere.

"Yes, some old fellow coughing," replied Tapotte.

"Why! it's he--it's the marquis. Fool that you are! Why didn't you admit that you told him where you lived?"

"I swear, monsieur, that I----"

"Hush! hold your tongue! he's there and he's getting impatient."

"Jarni! he's got the catarrh, that man has!"

"Faith, I cannot hesitate.--Monsieur le marquis! What an honor! I will jump out of this window in the rear."

"But don't I tell you, monsieur, that I didn't say I'd meet him----"

La Thoma.s.siniere was no longer listening; he had opened a window and jumped out, and was in the garden. At the same moment, Auguste opened the door, and entered the gardener's abode. When she saw that it was not the marquis, she uttered a cry of surprise; but Auguste whispered to her to keep quiet, and Mademoiselle Tapotte did whatever the young man wished, much preferring a tete-a-tete with him to one with monsieur le marquis.

La Thoma.s.siniere walked about under the apricot trees, presuming that the marquis would not remain long with Tapotte; but after half an hour, as his guest did not leave the gardener's house, our financier decided to go to bed.

"The deuce!" he said to himself; "the marquis seems to have had a long story to tell her. I must try to make my interviews last as long as monsieur le marquis's."

The next day the company a.s.sembled preparatory to starting for Paris.

Athalie was fresher than on the evening before, the marquis less flushed. Auguste seemed fatigued and La Thoma.s.siniere's expression was very sly as he looked at the n.o.bleman. Mademoiselle Tapotte alone was just as usual.

They entered their carriages and left the charming retreat at Fleury.

Let us follow their example, and return to Paris.

X

THE INN

To console himself in his master's absence, Bertrand had sent for the concierge to come up and keep him company. This concierge was an old German named Schtrack, who had come to France to make trousers, and, having found employment as a concierge, pa.s.sed his time in drinking, smoking, and in beating his wife. He was by no means capable of carrying on a conversation, even with a cook; but he would drink, and listen with imperturbable stolidity to Bertrand's stories of his campaigns, and to the minute details which the ex-corporal delighted to repeat, often for the twentieth time. Schtrack always seemed to take the same deep interest in them, keeping his eye fixed on the narrator, moving his head or frowning when the battle waxed hot, and emitting a cloud of tobacco smoke and a _sacretie!_ when Bertrand paused for breath.

After a.s.suring themselves that the burgundy was not spoiling, they had subjected the claret and the madeira to the same test. The more Bertrand talked, the thirstier he became; now he must have been exceedingly thirsty, for he had talked steadily from the preceding evening; the two worthies having pa.s.sed the night doing what they called "tasting the cellar," and Schtrack having left Bertrand's side but twice, to administer chastis.e.m.e.nt after the German style to his wife, who presumed to find fault because her husband did not come down to his lodge.

Bertrand sometimes interrupted the narrative of his campaigns to talk about Auguste, to whom he was devotedly attached, and to confide to Schtrack his anxiety on account of his lieutenant's senseless extravagance and his penchant for women; and Schtrack listened to it as he listened to the story of Austerlitz, e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.n.g. _sacretie!_ from time to time.

Although his patience was tried by hearing nothing else all night, Bertrand nevertheless said to Schtrack:

"Tell me, old fellow, what can I do to keep Monsieur Dalville from ruining himself?"

Schtrack, who had never before been questioned by Bertrand, reflected fully five minutes before he replied:

"Sacretie! let's take a drink."

"Yes, let's take a drink, that's well said," rejoined Bertrand, touching the concierge's gla.s.s with his; "but it doesn't answer my question. I love and respect Monsieur Dalville; I would jump into the fire for him; but, thunder and guns! it breaks my heart to see him pay out money for this one, lend to that one, play for infernally high stakes, spend money in foolish extravagance, and, last of all, injure his health; for what man could stand such a life? And most of those pretty hussies deceive him, I'll bet! But he won't listen to me. The heart is all right, oh!

the heart is first-cla.s.s, but the head----"

"Sacretie!" said Schtrack, emptying his gla.s.s.

"For instance, that little woman who lives in this house, for all her soft voice and her eyes always on the floor, and although she's fainted three times on learning of my master's perfidy, I wouldn't swear--I have imagined several times that I've seen a little man rushing upstairs as if there was a squad of police at his heels.--Do you know who I mean, Schtrack?"

"Ya! ya!"

"Well, who is that little man?"

"I don't know."