CHAPTER VI. THE GO-BETWEEN.
A few days have elapsed since the conflagration of M. Hardy's factory.The following scene takes place in the Rue Clovis, in the house whereRodin had lodged, and which was still inhabited by Rose-Pompon, who,without the least scruple, availed herself of the household arrangementsof her friend Philemon. It was about noon, and Rose-Pompon, alone inthe chamber of the student, who was still absent, was breakfasting verygayly by the fireside; but how singular a breakfast! what a queer fire!how strange an apartment!
Imagine a large room, lighted by two windows without curtains--for asthey looked on empty space, the lodger had fear of being overlooked.One side of this apartment served as a wardrobe, for there was suspendedRose-Pompon's flashy costume of debardeur, not far from the boat-man'sjacket of Philemon, with his large trousers of coarse, gray stuff,covered with pitch (shiver my timbers!), just as if this intrepidmariner had bunked in the forecastle of a frigate, during a voyageround the globe. A gown of Rose Pompon's hung gracefully over a pair ofpantaloons, the legs of which seemed to come from beneath the petticoat.On the lowest of several book-shelves, very dusty and neglected, by theside of three old boots (wherefore three boots?) and a number of emptybottles, stood a skull, a scientific and friendly souvenir, left toPhilemon by one of his comrades, a medical student. With a species ofpleasantry, very much to the taste of the student-world, a clay pipewith a very black bowl was placed between the magnificently white teethof this skull; moreover, its shining top was half hidden beneath anold hat, set knowingly on one side, and adorned with faded flowersand ribbons. When Philemon was drunk, he used to contemplate this bonyemblem of mortality, and break out into the most poetical monologues,with regard to this philosophical contrast between death and the madpleasures of life. Two or three plaster casts, with their noses andchins more or less injured, were fastened to the wall, and bore witnessto the temporary curiosity which Philemon had felt with regard tophrenological science, from the patient and serious study of which hehad drawn the following logical conclusion:--That, having to an alarmingextent the bump of getting into debt, he ought to resign himself to thefatality of this organization, and accept the inconvenience of creditorsas a vital necessity. On the chimney-piece, stood uninjured, in allits majesty, the magnificent rowing-club drinking-glass, a china teapotwithout a spout, and an inkstand of black wood, the glass mouth of whichwas covered by a coat of greenish and mossy mould. From time to time,the silence of this retreat was interrupted by the cooing of pigeons,which Rose-Pompon had established with cordial hospitality in the littlestudy. Chilly as a quail, Rose-Pompon crept close to the fire, and atthe same time seemed to enjoy the warmth of a bright ray of sunshine,which enveloped her in its golden light. This droll little creature wasdressed in the oddest costume, which, however, displayed to advantagethe freshness of her piquant and pretty countenance, crowned with itsfine, fair hair, always neatly combed and arranged the first thing inthe morning. By way of dressing-gown, Rose-Pompon had ingeniouslydrawn over her linen, the ample scarlet flannel shirt which belonged toPhilemon's official garb in the rowing-club; the collar, open and turneddown, displayed the whiteness of the young girl's under garment, asalso of her neck and shoulders, on whose firm and polished surface thescarlet shirt seemed to cast a rosy light. The grisette's fresh anddimpled arms half protruded from the large, turned-up sleeves; and hercharming legs were also half visible, crossed one over the other, andclothed in neat white stockings, and boots. A black silk cravat formedthe girdle which fastened the shirt round the wasp-like waist ofRose-Pompon, just above those hips, worthy of the enthusiasm of a modernPhidias, and which gave to this style of dress a grace very original.
We have said, that the breakfast of Rose-Pompon was singular. You shalljudge. On a little table placed before her, was a wash-hand-basin, intowhich she had recently plunged her fresh face, bathing it in pure water.From the bottom of this basin, now transformed into a salad-bowl, RosePompon took with the tips of her fingers large green leaves, drippingwith vinegar, and crunched them between her tiny white teeth, whoseenamel was too hard to allow them to be set on edge. Her drink wasa glass of water and syrup of gooseberries, which she stirred with awooden mustard-spoon. Finally, as an extra dish, she had a dozen olivesin one of those blue glass trinket-dishes sold for twenty-five sous. Herdessert was composed of nuts, which she prepared to roast on a red-hotshovel. That Rose-Pompon, with such an unaccountable savage choice offood, should retain a freshness of complexion worthy of her name, is oneof those miracles, which reveal the mighty power of youth and health.When she had eaten her salad, Rose-Pompon was about to begin upon herolives, when a low knock was heard at the door, which was modestlybolted on the inside.
"Who is there?" said Rose-Pompon.
"A friend--the oldest of the old," replied a sonorous, jovial voice."Why do you lock yourself in?"
"What! is it you, Ninny Moulin?"
"Yes, my beloved pupil. Open quickly. Time presses."
"Open to you? Oh, I dare say!--that would be pretty, the figure I am!"
"I believe you! what does it matter what figure you are? It would bevery pretty, thou rosiest of all the roses with which Cupid ever adornedhis quiver!"
"Go and preach fasting and morality in your journal, fat apostle!"said Rose--Pompon, as she restored the scarlet shirt to its place, withPhilemon's other garments.
"I say! are we to talk much longer through the door, for the greateredification of our neighbors?" cried Ninny Moulin. "I have something ofimportance to tell you--something that will astonish you--"
"Give me time to put on my gown, great plague that you are!"
"If it is because of my modesty, do not think of it. I am not over nice.I should like you very well as you are!"
"Only to think that such a monster is the favorite of all thechurchgoers!" said Rose-Pompon, opening the door as she finishedfastening her dress.
"So! you have at last returned to the dovecot, you stray girl!" saidNinny Moulin, folding his arms, and looking at Rose-Pompon with comicseriousness. "And where may you have been, I pray? For three days thenaughty little bird has left its nest."
"True; I only returned home last night. You must have called during myabsence?"
"I came, every day, and even twice a day, young lady, for I have veryserious matters to communicate."
"Very serious matters? Then we shall have a good laugh at them."
"Not at all--they are really serious," said Ninny Moulin, seatinghimself. "But, first of all, what did you do during the three days thatyou left your conjugal and Philemonic home? I must know all about it,before I tell you more."
"Will you have some olives?" said Rose-Pompon, as she nibbled one ofthem herself.
"Is that your answer?--I understand!--Unfortunate Philemon!"
"There is no unfortunate Philemon in the case, slanderer. Clara had adeath in her house, and, for the first few days after the funeral shewas afraid to sleep alone."
"I thought Clara sufficiently provided against such fears."
"There you are deceived, you great viper! I was obliged to go and keepthe poor girl company."
At this assertion, the religious pamphleteer hummed a tune, with anincredulous and mocking air.
"You think I have played Philemon tricks?" cried Rose-Pompon, cracking anut with the indignation of injured innocence.
"I do not say tricks; but one little rose-colored trick."
"I tell you, that it was not for my pleasure I went out. On thecontrary--for, during my absence, poor Cephyse disappeared."
"Yes, Mother Arsene told me that the Bacchanal-Queen was gone on ajourney. But when I talk of Philemon, you talk of Cephyse; we don'tprogress."
"May I be eaten by the black panther that they are showing at the PorteSaint-Martin if I do not tell you the truth. And, talking of that,you must get tickets to take me to see those animals, my little NinnyMoulin! They tell me there never were such darling wild beasts."
"Now really, are you mad?"
"Why so?"
/> "That I should guide your youth, like a venerable patriarch, through thedangers of the Storm-blown Tulip, all well and good--I ran no riskof meeting my pastors and masters; but were I to take you to a LentSpectacle (since there are only beasts to be seen), I might just runagainst my sacristans--and how pretty I should look with you on my arm!"
"You can put on a false nose, and straps to your trousers, my big Ninny;they will never know you."
"We must not think of false noses, but of what I have to tell you, sinceyou assure me that you have no intrigue in hand."
"I swear it!" said Rose-Pompon, solemnly, extending her left handhorizontally, whilst with her right she put a nut into her mouth. Thenshe added, with surprise, as she looked at the outside coat of NinnyMoulin, "Goodness gracious! what full pockets you have got! What isthere in them?"
"Something that concerns you, Rose-Pompon," said Dumoulin, gravely.
"Me?"
"Rose-Pompon!" said Ninny Moulin, suddenly, with a majestic air; "willyou have a carriage? Will you inhabit a charming apartment, instead ofliving in this dreadful hole? Will you be dressed like a duchess?"
"Now for some more nonsense! Come, will you eat the olives? If not, Ishall eat them all up. There is only one left."
Without answering this gastronomic offer, Ninny Moulin felt in one ofhis pockets, and drew from it a case containing a very pretty bracelet,which he held up sparkling before the eyes of the young girl.
"Oh! what a sumptuous bracelet!" cried she, clapping her hands. "Agreen-eyed serpent biting his tail--the emblem of my love for Philemon."
"Do not talk of Philemon; it annoys me," said Ninny Moulin, as heclasped the bracelet round the wrist of Rose-Pompon, who allowed him todo it, laughing all the while like mad, and saying to him, "So you'vebeen employed to make a purchase, big apostle, and wish to see theeffect of it. Well! it is charming!"
"Rose-Pompon," resumed Ninny Moulin, "would you like to have a servant,a box at the Opera, and a thousand francs a month for your pin-money?"
"Always the same nonsense. Get along!" said the young girl, as she heldup the bracelet to the light, still continuing to eat her nuts. "Whyalways the same farce, and no change of bills?"
Ninny Moulin again plunged his hand into his pocket, and this time drewforth an elegant chain, which he hung round Rose-Pompon's neck.
"Oh! what a beautiful chain!" cried the young girl, as she looked byturns at the sparkling ornament and the religious writer. "If you chosethat also, you have a very good taste. But am I not a good natured girlto be your dummy, just to show off your jewels?"
"Rose-Pompon," returned Ninny Moulin, with a still more majestic air,"these trifles are nothing to what you may obtain, if you will butfollow the advice of your old friend."
Rose began to look at Dumoulin with surprise, and said to him, "Whatdoes all this mean, Ninny Moulin? Explain yourself; what advice have youto give?"
Dumoulin did not answer, but replunging his hand into his inexhaustiblepocket, he fished up a parcel, which he carefully unfolded, and in whichwas a magnificent mantilla of black lace. Rose-Pompon started up, fullof new admiration, and Dumoulin threw the rich mantilla over the younggirl's shoulders.
"It is superb! I have never seen anything like it! What patterns! whatwork!" said Rose-Pompon, as she examined all with simple and perfectlydisinterested curiosity. Then she added, "Your pocket is like a shop;where did you get all these pretty things?" Then, bursting into a fit oflaughter, which brought the blood to her cheeks, she exclaimed, "Oh, Ihave it! These are the wedding-presents for Madame de la Sainte-Colombe.I congratulate you; they are very choice."
"And where do you suppose I should find money to buy these wonders?"said Ninny Moulin. "I repeat to you, all this is yours if you will butlisten to me!"
"How is this?" said Rose-Pompon, with the utmost amazement; "is what youtell me in downright earnest?"
"In downright earnest."
"This offer to make me a great lady?"
"The jewels might convince you of the reality of my offers."
"And you propose all this to me for some one else, my poor NinnyMoulin?"
"One moment," said the religious writer, with a comical air of modesty,"you must know me well enough, my beloved pupil, to feel certain thatI should be incapable of inducing you to commit an improper action. Irespect myself too much for that--leaving out the consideration that itwould be unfair to Philemon, who confided to me the guardianship of yourvirtue."
"Then, Ninny Moulin," said Rose-Pompon, more and more astonished, "on myword of honor, I can make nothing of it.
"Yet, 'tis all very simple, and I--"
"Oh! I've found it," cried Rose-Pompon, interrupting Ninny Moulin; "itis some gentleman who offers me his hand, his heart, and all the rest ofit. Could you not tell me that directly?"
"A marriage? oh, laws, yes!" said Dumoulin, shrugging his shoulders.
"What! is it not a marriage?" said Rose-Pompon, again much surprised.
"No."
"And the offers you make me are honest ones, my big apostle?"
"They could not be more so." Here Dumoulin spoke the truth.
"I shall not have to be unfaithful to Philemon?"
"No."
"Or faithful to any one else?"
"No."
Rose-Pompon looked confounded. Then she rattled on: "Come, do not letus have any joking! I am not foolish enough to imagine that I am to livejust like a duchess, just for nothing. What, therefore, must I give inreturn?"
"Nothing at all."
"Nothing?"
"Not even that," said Ninny Moulin, biting his nail-tip.
"But what am I to do, then?"
"Dress yourself as handsomely as possible, take your ease, amuseyourself, ride about in a carriage. You see, it is not veryfatiguing--and you will, moreover, help to do a good action."
"What! by living like a duchess?"
"Yes! so make up your mind. Do not ask me for any more details, for Icannot give them to you. For the rest, you will not be detained againstyour will. Just try the life I propose to you. If it suits you, go onwith it; if not, return to your Philemonic household."
"In fact--"
"Only try it. What can you risk?"
"Nothing; but I can hardly believe that all you say is true. And then,"added she, with hesitation, "I do not know if I ought--"
Ninny Moulin went to the window, opened it, and said to Rose-Pompon, whoran up to it, "Look there! before the door of the house."
"What a pretty carriage! How comfortable a body'd be inside of it!"
"That carriage is yours. It is waiting for you."
"Waiting for me!" exclaimed Rose-Pompon; "am I to decide as short asthat?"
"Or not at all."
"To-day?"
"On the instant."
"But where will they take me?"
"How should I know?"
"You do not know where they will take me?"
"Not I,"--and Dumoulin still spoke the truth--"the coachman has hisorders."
"Do you know all this is very funny, Ninny Moulin?"
"I believe you. If it were not funny, where would be the pleasure?"
"You are right."
"Then you accept the offer? That is well. I am delighted both for youand myself."
"For yourself?"
"Yes; because, in accepting, you render me a great service."
"You? How so?"
"It matters little, as long as I feel obliged to you."
"True."
"Come, then; let us set out!"
"Bah! after all, they cannot eat me," said Rose-Pompon, resolutely.
With a skip and a jump, she went to fetch a rose-colored cap, and, goingup to a broken looking-glass, placed the cap very much cocked on oneside on her bands of light hair. This left uncovered her snowy neck,with the silky roots of the hair behind, and gave to her pretty face avery mischievous, not to say licentious expression.
"My cloak!" said she to Ninny Moulin, who seemed to be relieved from a
considerable amount of uneasiness, since she had accepted his offer.
"Fie! a cloak will not do," answered her companion, feeling once morein his pocket and drawing out a fine Cashmere shawl, which he threw overRose-Pompon's shoulders.
"A Cashmere!" cried the young girl, trembling with pleasure and joyoussurprise. Then she added, with an air of heroism: "It is settled! Iwill run the gauntlet." And with a light step she descended the stairs,followed by Ninny Moulin.
The worthy greengrocer was at her post. "Good-morning, mademoiselle; youare early to-day," said she to the young girl.
"Yes, Mother Arsene; there is my key."
"Thank you, mademoiselle."
"Oh! now I think of it," said Rose Pompon, suddenly, in a whisper, asshe turned towards Ninny Moulin, and withdrew further from the portress,"what is to became of Philemon?"
"Philemon?"
"If he should arrive--"
"Oh! the devil!" said Ninny Moulin, scratching his ear.
"Yes; if Philemon should arrive, what will they say to him? for I may bea long time absent."
"Three or four months, I suppose."
"Not more?"
"I should think not."
"Oh! very good!" said Rose-Pompon. Then, turning towards thegreengrocer, she said to her, after a moment's reflection: "MotherArsene, if Philemon should come home, you will tell him I have goneout--on business."
"Yes, mademoiselle."
"And that he must not forget to feed my pigeons, which are in hisstudy."
"Yes, mademoiselle."
"Good-bye, Mother Arsene."
"Good-bye, mademoiselle." And Rose-Pompon entered the carriage intriumph, along with Ninny Moulin.
"The devil take me if I know what is to come of all this," said JacquesDumoulin to himself, as the carriage drove rapidly down the Rue Clovis."I have repaired my error--and now I laugh at the rest."