The White House Part 15

But the maid soon returned and said with a mocking air:

"Monsieur swore because I woke him, and sent me about my business; he says you must come again."

"Did you give him my name?"

"Yes, monsieur, but that didn't do any good."

"Ah! that didn't do any good? Very well, I will call again."

And Robineau went away in a very ill humor, saying to himself:

"If that man had paid over all my money, I would change notaries instantly. Let's go to Alfred's."

He arrived at the hotel De Marcey before seven o'clock and found the servants walking about the courtyard. Alfred's valet stopped Robineau, saying:

"My master is asleep, monsieur."

"Bah! that doesn't matter; he won't be sorry to see me, he expects me,"

was the reply; and Robineau went upstairs, walked through various rooms and arrived at last in Alfred's bedroom, where he found his friend fast asleep. He shook him violently, crying:

"Well, my friend! aren't we ever going to get up? Come, come, lazybones!"

Alfred opened his eyes, looked up at Robineau, and exclaimed:

"Hallo! is it you? What in the devil do you want of me?"

"I have come to talk business with you. If I am not mistaken, you told me yesterday that you had seen a very fine estate near Mantes, which----"

"Eh! the devil take you and your estates! I was having the most delicious dream; I was coasting with Madame de Gerville, and the sled broke; but instead of being hurt, we were hugging each other so tight, we fell so softly; and I felt the pressure of her body. I touched----"

"I beg your pardon for waking you, my friend," said Robineau, "but----"

"And I," said Alfred, "beg you to pardon me if I go to sleep again."

And he paid no further heed to Robineau, who cried:

"What, my friend! you are going to sleep again just on account of a dream of coasting and such nonsense?"

Seeing that it was useless to speak to him, Robineau decided to take his leave.

"Let's go to Monsieur Edouard Beaumont's," he said to himself. "A poet, an author ought to rise early; genius should be up with the lark. At all events, I'll ask him to breakfast with me, and they say that authors are very susceptible to such invitations."

So he betook himself to Edouard's lodgings, where he had never been. He knew the address, however, and succeeded in finding it. The young author did not live at a hotel, nor did he occupy a first floor apartment; but he had lodgings in a pleasant house in Rue d'Enghien. The concierge did not stop Robineau, but merely said to him:

"Go up to the fourth floor."

"The fourth floor--that's rather high," said Robineau to himself. "To be sure, the staircase is very clean and very pleasant. But a poet--there's no law compelling them to be rich. And yet I have heard Alfred say that Edouard was in comfortable circ.u.mstances, that he had about four thousand francs a year. That used to seem a fortune to me."

On reaching the fourth floor Robineau rang once, twice; no answer. Not discouraged, he rang a third time, and at last heard Edouard's voice, calling:

"Who's there?"

"It's I--Jules--you know. I have come to ask you to breakfast. Let me in."

"Oh! I beg a thousand pardons, Monsieur Robineau, but I worked far into the night, and I should like to sleep a little longer. Au revoir."

He walked away from the door, and Robineau stood on the landing for some moments.

"What in the devil have all these people eaten," he said to himself, "that they're so anxious to sleep? it's a most extraordinary thing!"

He went downstairs and looked at his watch; it was about half-past seven, and it occurred to him that his cabriolet should be waiting for him. So he returned to Rue Saint-Honore and uttered a cry of joy when he saw in the distance the carriage standing at his door. He quickened his pace and discovered Fifine and the other young milliners standing in the doorway of the shop. He marched proudly by them and jumped into the cabriolet amid shouts of laughter from the young ladies, saying to himself:

"They laugh at me! Very good! I will try to splash them."

He drove about for an hour through the streets of Paris, then returned to his notary's office. That gentleman, who was already tired of seeing him four times a day, and who did not care to be roused from sleep by him often, concluded that he had better find an estate for him in short order, as the best way to be rid of him. And so, as soon as he saw him, he said:

"I have what you want."

"Is it possible? An estate?"

"Better than that--a small chateau."

"A chateau?--You are a delightful man!"

"With towers, too, and battlements."

"Battlements!--Allow me to embrace you!"

"And moats--they are dry, to be sure."

"I will have them filled with water."

"Plenty of rooms, many guest chambers, stable for twenty horses."

"I will stable a.s.ses there."

"A park, a forest, and enormous gardens where you can lose yourself!"

"Lose myself--that is delicious!"

"Outlying land where you can hunt."

"I will do nothing else."

"A little stream abundantly supplied with fish."

"And I am very fond of _matelote_!"

"And the chateau is all furnished--in rather old-fashioned style, to be sure; but you will find there all that you need for immediate occupancy, except linen."