"Do you know him?"[206]

  "Oh! intimately! We are neighbours; and he used to amuse himself with me when I was quite a little girl."

  Madame Arnoux cast at her a sidelong glance, which meant:

  "I suppose you are not in love with him?"

  The young girl's face replied with an untroubled look:

  "Yes."

  "You see him often, then?"

  "Oh, no! only when he comes to his mother's house. 'Tis ten months now since he came. He promised, however, to be more particular."

  "The promises of men are not to be too much relied on, my child."

  "But he has not deceived me!"

  "As he did others!"

  Louise shivered: "Can it be by any chance that he promised something to her;" and her features became distracted with distrust and hate.

  Madame Arnoux was almost afraid of her; she would have gladly withdrawn what she had said. Then both became silent.

  As Frederick was sitting opposite them on a folding-stool, they kept staring at him, the one with propriety out of the corner of her eye, the other boldly, with parted lips, so that Madame Dambreuse said to him:

  "Come, now, turn round, and let her have a good look at you!"

  "Whom do you mean?"

  "Why, Monsieur Roque's daughter!"

  And she rallied him on having won the heart of this young girl from the provinces. He denied that this was so, and tried to make a laugh of it.[207]

  "Is it credible, I ask you? Such an ugly creature!"

  However, he experienced an intense feeling of gratified vanity. He recalled to mind the reunion from which he had returned one night, some time before, his heart filled with bitter humiliation, and he drew a deep breath, for it seemed to him that he was now in the environment that really suited him, as if all these things, including the Dambreuse mansion, belonged to himself. The ladies formed a semicircle around him while they listened to what he was saying, and in order to create an effect, he declared that he was in favor of the re-establishment of divorce, which he maintained should be easily procurable, so as to enable people to quit one another and come back to one another without any limit as often as they liked. They uttered loud protests; a few of them began to talk in whispers. Little exclamations every now and then burst forth from the place where the wall was overshadowed with aristolochia. One would imagine that it was a mirthful cackling of hens; and he developed his theory with that self-complacency which is generated by the consciousness of success. A man-servant brought into the arbour a tray laden with ices. The gentlemen drew close together and began to chat about the recent arrests.

  Thereupon Frederick revenged himself on the Vicomte by making him believe that he might be prosecuted as a Legitimist. The other urged by way of reply that he had not stirred outside his own room. His adversary enumerated in a heap the possible mischances. MM. Dambreuse and Grémonville found the discussion very amusing. Then they paid Frederick compliments, while expressing regret at the same time that he did not employ his abilities in the de[208]fence of order. They grasped his hand with the utmost warmth; he might for the future count on them. At last, just as everyone was leaving, the Vicomte made a low bow to Cécile:

  "Mademoiselle, I have the honour of wishing you a very good evening."

  She replied coldly:

  "Good evening." But she gave Martinon a parting smile.

  Pére Roque, in order to continue the conversation between himself and Arnoux, offered to see him home, "as well as Madame"—they were going the same way. Louise and Frederick walked in front of them. She had caught hold of his arm; and, when she was some distance away from the others she said:

  "Ah! at last! at last! I've had enough to bear all the evening! How nasty those women were! What haughty airs they had!"

  He made an effort to defend them.

  "First of all, you might certainly have spoken to me the moment you came in, after being away a whole year!"

  "It was not a year," said Frederick, glad to be able to give some sort of rejoinder on this point in order to avoid the other questions.

  "Be it so; the time appeared very long to me, that's all. But, during this horrid dinner, one would think you felt ashamed of me. Ah! I understand—I don't possess what is needed in order to please as they do."

  "You are mistaken," said Frederick.

  "Really! Swear to me that you don't love anyone!"

  He did swear.[209]

  "You love nobody but me alone?"

  "I assure you, I do not."

  This assurance filled her with delight. She would have liked to lose her way in the streets, so that they might walk about together the whole night.

  "I have been so much tormented down there! Nothing was talked about but barricades. I imagined I saw you falling on your back covered with blood! Your mother was confined to her bed with rheumatism. She knew nothing about what was happening. I had to hold my tongue. I could stand it no longer, so I took Catherine with me."

  And she related to him all about her departure, her journey, and the lie she told her father.

  "He's bringing me back in two days. Come to-morrow evening, as if you were merely paying a casual visit, and take advantage of the opportunity to ask for my hand in marriage."

  Never had Frederick been further from the idea of marriage. Besides, Mademoiselle Roque appeared to him a rather absurd young person. How different she was from a woman like Madame Dambreuse! A very different future was in store for him. He had found reason to-day to feel perfectly certain on that point; and, therefore, this was not the time to involve himself, from mere sentimental motives, in a step of such momentous importance. It was necessary now to be decisive—and then he had seen Madame Arnoux once more. Nevertheless he was rather embarrassed by Louise's candour.

  He said in reply to her last words:

  "Have you considered this matter?"

  "How is that?" she exclaimed, frozen with astonishment and indignation.[210]

  He said that to marry at such a time as this would be a piece of folly.

  "So you don't want to have me?"

  "Nay, you don't understand me!"

  And he plunged into a confused mass of verbiage in order to impress upon her that he was kept back by more serious considerations; that he had business on hand which it would take a long time to dispose of; that even his inheritance had been placed in jeopardy (Louise cut all this explanation short with one plain word); that, last of all, the present political situation made the thing undesirable. So, then, the most reasonable course was to wait patiently for some time. Matters would, no doubt, right themselves—at least, he hoped so; and, as he could think of no further grounds to go upon just at that moment, he pretended to have been suddenly reminded that he should have been with Dussardier two hours ago.

  Then, bowing to the others, he darted down the Rue Hauteville, took a turn round the Gymnase, returned to the boulevard, and quickly rushed up Rosanette's four flights of stairs.

  M. and Madame Arnoux left Pére Roque and his daughter at the entrance of the Rue Saint-Denis. Husband and wife returned home without exchanging a word, as he was unable to continue chattering any longer, feeling quite worn out. She even leaned against his shoulder. He was the only man who had displayed any honourable sentiments during the evening. She entertained towards him feelings of the utmost indulgence. Meanwhile, he cherished a certain degree of spite against Frederick.

  "Did you notice his face when a question was asked about the portrait? When I told you that he[211] was her lover, you did not wish to believe what I said!"

  "Oh! yes, I was wrong!"

  Arnoux, gratified with his triumph, pressed the matter even further.

  "I'd even make a bet that when he left us, a little while ago, he went to see her again. He's with her at this moment, you may be sure! He's finishing the evening with her!"

  Madame Arnoux had pulled down her hat very low.

  "Why, you're shaking all over!"

  "That's because I feel
cold!" was her reply.

  As soon as her father was asleep, Louise made her way into Catherine's room, and, catching her by the shoulders, shook her.

  "Get up—quick! as quick as ever you can! and go and fetch a cab for me!"

  Catherine replied that there was not one to be had at such an hour.

  "Will you come with me yourself there, then?"

  "Where, might I ask?"

  "To Frederick's house!"

  "Impossible! What do you want to go there for?"

  It was in order to have a talk with him. She could not wait. She must see him immediately.

  "Just think of what you're about to do! To present yourself this way at a house in the middle of the night! Besides, he's asleep by this time!"

  "I'll wake him up!"

  "But this is not a proper thing for a young girl to do!"

  "I am not a young girl—I'm his wife! I love him! Come—put on your shawl!"[212]

  Catherine, standing at the side of the bed, was trying to make up her mind how to act. She said at last:

  "No! I won't go!"

  "Well, stay behind then! I'll go there by myself!"

  Louise glided like an adder towards the staircase. Catherine rushed after her, and came up with her on the footpath outside the house. Her remonstrances were fruitless; and she followed the girl, fastening her undervest as she hurried along in the rear. The walk appeared to her exceedingly tedious. She complained that her legs were getting weak from age.

  "I'll go on after you—faith, I haven't the same thing to drive me on that you have!"

  Then she grew softened.

  "Poor soul! You haven't anyone now but your Catau, don't you see?"

  From time to time scruples took hold of her mind.

  "Ah, this is a nice thing you're making me do! Suppose your father happened to wake and miss you! Lord God, let us hope no misfortune will happen!"

  In front of the Théâtre des Variétés, a patrol of National Guards stopped them.

  Louise immediately explained that she was going with her servant to look for a doctor in the Rue Rumfort. The patrol allowed them to pass on.

  At the corner of the Madeleine they came across a second patrol, and, Louise having given the same explanation, one of the National Guards asked in return:

  "Is it for a nine months' ailment, ducky?"

  "Oh, damn it!" exclaimed the captain, "no blackguardisms in the ranks! Pass on, ladies!"[213]

  In spite of the captain's orders, they still kept cracking jokes.

  "I wish you much joy!"

  "My respects to the doctor!"

  "Mind the wolf!"

  "They like laughing," Catherine remarked in a loud tone. "That's the way it is to be young."

  At length they reached Frederick's abode.

  Louise gave the bell a vigorous pull, which she repeated several times. The door opened a little, and, in answer to her inquiry, the porter said:

  "No!"

  "But he must be in bed!"

  "I tell you he's not. Why, for nearly three months he has not slept at home!"

  And the little pane of the lodge fell down sharply, like the blade of a guillotine.

  They remained in the darkness under the archway.

  An angry voice cried out to them:

  "Be off!"

  The door was again opened; they went away.

  Louise had to sit down on a boundary-stone; and clasping her face with her hands, she wept copious tears welling up from her full heart. The day was breaking, and carts were making their way into the city.

  Catherine led her back home, holding her up, kissing her, and offering her every sort of consolation that she could extract from her own experience. She need not give herself so much trouble about a lover. If this one failed her, she could find others.

  * * *

  CHAPTER XVI.

  Unpleasant News from Rosanette.

  hen Rosanette's enthusiasm for the[214] Gardes Mobiles had calmed down, she became more charming than ever, and Frederick insensibly glided into the habit of living with her.

  The best portion of the day was the morning on the terrace. In a light cambric dress, and with her stockingless feet thrust into slippers, she kept moving about him—went and cleaned her canaries' cage, gave her gold-fishes some water, and with a fire-shovel did a little amateur gardening in the box filled with clay, from which arose a trellis of nasturtiums, giving an attractive look to the wall. Then, resting, with their elbows on the balcony, they stood side by side, gazing at the vehicles and the passers-by; and they warmed themselves in the sunlight, and made plans for spending the evening. He absented himself only for two hours at most, and, after that, they would go to some theatre, where they would get seats in front of the stage; and Rosanette, with a large bouquet of flowers in her hand, would listen to the instruments, while Frederick, leaning close to her ear,[215] would tell her comic or amatory stories. At other times they took an open carriage to drive to the Bois de Boulogne. They kept walking about slowly until the middle of the night. At last they made their way home through the Arc de Triomphe and the grand avenue, inhaling the breeze, with the stars above their heads, and with all the gas-lamps ranged in the background of the perspective like a double string of luminous pearls.

  Frederick always waited for her when they were going out together. She was a very long time fastening the two ribbons of her bonnet; and she smiled at herself in the mirror set in the wardrobe; then she would draw her arm over his, and, making him look at himself in the glass beside her:

  "We produce a good effect in this way, the two of us side by side. Ah! my poor darling, I could eat you!"

  He was now her chattel, her property. She wore on her face a continuous radiance, while at the same time she appeared more languishing in manner, more rounded in figure; and, without being able to explain in what way, he found her altered, nevertheless.

  One day she informed him, as if it were a very important bit of news, that my lord Arnoux had lately set up a linen-draper's shop for a woman who was formerly employed in his pottery-works. He used to go there every evening—"he spent a great deal on it no later than a week ago; he had even given her a set of rosewood furniture."

  "How do you know that?" said Frederick.

  "Oh! I'm sure of it."

  Delphine, while carrying out some orders for her, had made enquiries about the matter, She must, then,[216] be much attached to Arnoux to take such a deep interest in his movements. He contented himself with saying to her in reply:

  "What does this signify to you?"

  Rosanette looked surprised at this question.

  "Why, the rascal owes me money. Isn't it atrocious to see him keeping beggars?"

  Then, with an expression of triumphant hate in her face:

  "Besides, she is having a nice laugh at him. She has three others on hand. So much the better; and I'll be glad if she eats him up, even to the last farthing!"

  Arnoux had, in fact, let himself be made use of by the girl from Bordeaux with the indulgence which characterises senile attachments. His manufactory was no longer going on. The entire state of his affairs was pitiable; so that, in order to set them afloat again, he was at first projecting the establishment of a café chantant, at which only patriotic pieces would be sung. With a grant from the Minister, this establishment would become at the same time a focus for the purpose of propagandism and a source of profit. Now that power had been directed into a different channel, the thing was impossible.

  His next idea was a big military hat-making business. He lacked capital, however, to give it a start.

  He was not more fortunate in his domestic life. Madame Arnoux was less agreeable in manner towards him, sometimes even a little rude. Berthe always took her father's part. This increased the discord, and the house was becoming intolerable. He often set forth in the morning, passed his day in[217] making long excursions out of the city, in order to divert his thoughts, then dined at a rustic tavern, abandoning himself to his reflections.
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  The prolonged absence of Frederick disturbed his habits. Then he presented himself one afternoon, begged of him to come and see him as in former days, and obtained from him a promise to do so.

  Frederick did not feel sufficient courage within him to go back to Madame Arnoux's house. It seemed to him as if he had betrayed her. But this conduct was very pusillanimous. There was no excuse for it. There was only one way of ending the matter, and so, one evening, he set out on his way.

  As the rain was falling, he had just turned up the Passage Jouffroy, when, under the light shed from the shop-windows, a fat little man accosted him. Frederick had no difficulty in recognising Compain, that orator whose motion had excited so much laughter at the club. He was leaning on the arm of an individual whose head was muffled in a zouave's red cap, with a very long upper lip, a complexion as yellow as an orange, a tuft of beard under his jaw, and big staring eyes listening with wonder.

  Compain was, no doubt, proud of him, for he said:

  "Let me introduce you to this jolly dog! He is a bootmaker whom I include amongst my friends. Come and let us take something!"

  Frederick having thanked him, he immediately thundered against Rateau's motion, which he described as a manœuvre of the aristocrats. In order to put an end to it, it would be necessary to begin '93 over again! Then he enquired about Regimbart and some others, who were also well known, such as Masselin, Sanson, Lecornu, Maréchal, and a cer[218]tain Deslauriers, who had been implicated in the case of the carbines lately intercepted at Troyes.

  All this was new to Frederick. Compain knew nothing more about the subject. He quitted the young man with these words:

  "You'll come soon, will you not? for you belong to it."

  "To what?"

  "The calf's head!"

  "What calf's head?"

  "Ha, you rogue!" returned Compain, giving him a tap on the stomach.

  And the two terrorists plunged into a café.

  Ten minutes later Frederick was no longer thinking of Deslauriers. He was on the footpath of the Rue de Paradis in front of a house; and he was staring at the light which came from a lamp in the second floor behind a curtain.

  At length he ascended the stairs.