Chapter 115. Luigi Vampa’s Bill of Fare
We awake from every sleep except the one dreaded by Danglars. He awoke.To a Parisian accustomed to silken curtains, walls hung with velvetdrapery, and the soft perfume of burning wood, the white smoke of whichdiffuses itself in graceful curves around the room, the appearance ofthe whitewashed cell which greeted his eyes on awakening seemed like thecontinuation of some disagreeable dream. But in such a situation asingle moment suffices to change the strongest doubt into certainty.
“Yes, yes,” he murmured, “I am in the hands of the brigands of whomAlbert de Morcerf spoke.” His first idea was to breathe, that he mightknow whether he was wounded. He borrowed this from Don Quixote, the onlybook he had ever read, but which he still slightly remembered.
“No,” he cried, “they have not wounded, but perhaps they have robbedme!” and he thrust his hands into his pockets. They were untouched; thehundred louis he had reserved for his journey from Rome to Venice werein his trousers pocket, and in that of his greatcoat he found the littlenote-case containing his letter of credit for 5,050,000 francs.
“Singular bandits!” he exclaimed; “they have left me my purse andpocket-book. As I was saying last night, they intend me to be ransomed.Hello, here is my watch! Let me see what time it is.”
Danglars’ watch, one of Breguet’s repeaters, which he had carefullywound up on the previous night, struck half past five. Without this,Danglars would have been quite ignorant of the time, for daylight didnot reach his cell. Should he demand an explanation from the bandits, orshould he wait patiently for them to propose it? The last alternativeseemed the most prudent, so he waited until twelve o’clock. During allthis time a sentinel, who had been relieved at eight o’clock, had beenwatching his door.
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Danglars suddenly felt a strong inclination to see the person who keptwatch over him. He had noticed that a few rays, not of daylight, butfrom a lamp, penetrated through the ill-joined planks of the door; heapproached just as the brigand was refreshing himself with a mouthful ofbrandy, which, owing to the leathern bottle containing it, sent forth anodor which was extremely unpleasant to Danglars. “Faugh!” he exclaimed,retreating to the farther corner of his cell.
At twelve this man was replaced by another functionary, and Danglars,wishing to catch sight of his new guardian, approached the door again.
He was an athletic, gigantic bandit, with large eyes, thick lips, and aflat nose; his red hair fell in dishevelled masses like snakes aroundhis shoulders.
“Ah, ha,” cried Danglars, “this fellow is more like an ogre thananything else; however, I am rather too old and tough to be very goodeating!”
We see that Danglars was collected enough to jest; at the same time, asthough to disprove the ogreish propensities, the man took some blackbread, cheese, and onions from his wallet, which he began devouringvoraciously.
“May I be hanged,” said Danglars, glancing at the bandit’s dinnerthrough the crevices of the door,—“may I be hanged if I can understandhow people can eat such filth!” and he withdrew to seat himself upon hisgoat-skin, which reminded him of the smell of the brandy.
But the mysteries of nature are incomprehensible, and there are certaininvitations contained in even the coarsest food which appeal veryirresistibly to a fasting stomach. Danglars felt his own not to be verywell supplied just then, and gradually the man appeared less ugly, thebread less black, and the cheese more fresh, while those dreadful vulgaronions recalled to his mind certain sauces and side-dishes, which hiscook prepared in a very superior manner whenever he said, “MonsieurDeniseau, let me have a nice little fricassee today.” He got up andknocked on the door; the bandit raised his head. Danglars knew that hewas heard, so he redoubled his blows.
“Che cosa?” asked the bandit.
“Come, come,” said Danglars, tapping his fingers against the door, “Ithink it is quite time to think of giving me something to eat!”
But whether he did not understand him, or whether he had received noorders respecting the nourishment of Danglars, the giant, withoutanswering, went on with his dinner. Danglars’ feelings were hurt, andnot wishing to put himself under obligations to the brute, the bankerthrew himself down again on his goat-skin and did not breathe anotherword.
Four hours passed by and the giant was replaced by another bandit.Danglars, who really began to experience sundry gnawings at the stomach,arose softly, again applied his eye to the crack of the door, andrecognized the intelligent countenance of his guide. It was, indeed,Peppino who was preparing to mount guard as comfortably as possible byseating himself opposite to the door, and placing between his legs anearthen pan, containing chick-peas stewed with bacon. Near the pan healso placed a pretty little basket of Villetri grapes and a flask ofOrvieto. Peppino was decidedly an epicure. Danglars watched thesepreparations and his mouth watered.
“Come,” he said to himself, “let me try if he will be more tractablethan the other;” and he tapped gently at the door.
“On y va,” (coming) exclaimed Peppino, who from frequenting the house ofSignor Pastrini understood French perfectly in all its idioms.
Danglars immediately recognized him as the man who had called out insuch a furious manner, “Put in your head!” But this was not the time forrecrimination, so he assumed his most agreeable manner and said with agracious smile:
“Excuse me, sir, but are they not going to give me any dinner?”
“Does your excellency happen to be hungry?”
“Happen to be hungry,—that’s pretty good, when I haven’t eaten fortwenty-four hours!” muttered Danglars. Then he added aloud, “Yes, sir, Iam hungry—very hungry.”
“And your excellency wants something to eat?”
“At once, if possible”
“Nothing easier,” said Peppino. “Here you can get anything you want; bypaying for it, of course, as among honest folk.”
“Of course!” cried Danglars. “Although, in justice, the people whoarrest and imprison you, ought, at least, to feed you.”
“That is not the custom, excellency,” said Peppino.
“A bad reason,” replied Danglars, who reckoned on conciliating hiskeeper; “but I am content. Let me have some dinner!”
“At once! What would your excellency like?”
And Peppino placed his pan on the ground, so that the steam rosedirectly under the nostrils of Danglars. “Give your orders.”
“Have you kitchens here?”
“Kitchens?—of course—complete ones.”
“And cooks?”
“Excellent!”
“Well, a fowl, fish, game,—it signifies little, so that I eat.”
“As your excellency pleases. You mentioned a fowl, I think?”
“Yes, a fowl.”
Peppino, turning around, shouted, “A fowl for his excellency!” His voiceyet echoed in the archway when a handsome, graceful, and half-nakedyoung man appeared, bearing a fowl in a silver dish on his head, withoutthe assistance of his hands.
“I could almost believe myself at the Café de Paris,” murmured Danglars.
“Here, your excellency,” said Peppino, taking the fowl from the youngbandit and placing it on the worm-eaten table, which with the stool andthe goat-skin bed formed the entire furniture of the cell. Danglarsasked for a knife and fork.
“Here, excellency,” said Peppino, offering him a little blunt knife anda boxwood fork. Danglars took the knife in one hand and the fork in theother, and was about to cut up the fowl.
“Pardon me, excellency,” said Peppino, placing his hand on the banker’sshoulder; “people pay here before they eat. They might not be satisfied,and——”
“Ah, ha,” thought Danglars, “this is not so much like Paris, except thatI shall probably be skinned! Never mind, I’ll fix that all right. I havealways heard how cheap poultry is in Italy; I should think a fowl isworth about twelve sous at Rome.—There,” he said, throwing a louis down.
Peppino picked up the louis, and Danglars a
gain prepared to carve thefowl.
“Stay a moment, your excellency,” said Peppino, rising; “you still oweme something.”
“I said they would skin me,” thought Danglars; but resolving to resistthe extortion, he said, “Come, how much do I owe you for this fowl?”
“Your excellency has given me a louis on account.”
“A louis on account for a fowl?”
“Certainly; and your excellency now owes me 4,999 louis.”
Danglars opened his enormous eyes on hearing this gigantic joke.
“Very droll,” he muttered, “very droll indeed,” and he again began tocarve the fowl, when Peppino stopped the baron’s right hand with hisleft, and held out his other hand.
“Come, now,” he said.
“Is it not a joke?” said Danglars.
“We never joke,” replied Peppino, solemn as a Quaker.
“What! A hundred thousand francs for a fowl!”
“Ah, excellency, you cannot imagine how hard it is to rear fowls inthese horrible caves!”
“Come, come, this is very droll—very amusing—I allow; but, as I am veryhungry, pray allow me to eat. Stay, here is another louis for you.”
“Then that will make only 4,998 louis more,” said Peppino with the sameindifference. “I shall get them all in time.”
“Oh, as for that,” said Danglars, angry at this prolongation of thejest,—“as for that you won’t get them at all. Go to the devil! You donot know with whom you have to deal!”
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Peppino made a sign, and the youth hastily removed the fowl. Danglarsthrew himself upon his goat-skin, and Peppino, reclosing the door, againbegan eating his peas and bacon. Though Danglars could not see Peppino,the noise of his teeth allowed no doubt as to his occupation. He wascertainly eating, and noisily too, like an ill-bred man. “Brute!” saidDanglars. Peppino pretended not to hear him, and without even turninghis head continued to eat slowly. Danglars’ stomach felt so empty, thatit seemed as if it would be impossible ever to fill it again; still hehad patience for another half-hour, which appeared to him like acentury. He again arose and went to the door.
“Come, sir, do not keep me starving here any longer, but tell me whatthey want.”
“Nay, your excellency, it is you who should tell us what you want. Giveyour orders, and we will execute them.”
“Then open the door directly.” Peppino obeyed. “Now look here, I wantsomething to eat! To eat—do you hear?”
“Are you hungry?”
“Come, you understand me.”
“What would your excellency like to eat?”
“A piece of dry bread, since the fowls are beyond all price in thisaccursed place.”
“Bread? Very well. Holloa, there, some bread!” he called. The youthbrought a small loaf. “How much?” asked Danglars.
“Four thousand nine hundred and ninety-eight louis,” said Peppino; “Youhave paid two louis in advance.”
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“What? One hundred thousand francs for a loaf?”
“One hundred thousand francs,” repeated Peppino.
“But you only asked 100,000 francs for a fowl!”
“We have a fixed price for all our provisions. It signifies nothingwhether you eat much or little—whether you have ten dishes or one—it isalways the same price.”
“What, still keeping up this silly jest? My dear fellow, it is perfectlyridiculous—stupid! You had better tell me at once that you intendstarving me to death.”
“Oh, dear, no, your excellency, unless you intend to commit suicide. Payand eat.”
“And what am I to pay with, brute?” said Danglars, enraged. “Do yousuppose I carry 100,000 francs in my pocket?”
“Your excellency has 5,050,000 francs in your pocket; that will be fiftyfowls at 100,000 francs apiece, and half a fowl for the 50,000.”
Danglars shuddered. The bandage fell from his eyes, and he understoodthe joke, which he did not think quite so stupid as he had done justbefore.
“Come,” he said, “if I pay you the 100,000 francs, will you besatisfied, and allow me to eat at my ease?”
“Certainly,” said Peppino.
“But how can I pay them?”
“Oh, nothing easier; you have an account open with Messrs. Thomson &French, Via dei Banchi, Rome; give me a draft for 4,998 louis on thesegentlemen, and our banker shall take it.” Danglars thought it as well tocomply with a good grace, so he took the pen, ink, and paper Peppinooffered him, wrote the draft, and signed it.
“Here,” he said, “here is a draft at sight.”
“And here is your fowl.”
Danglars sighed while he carved the fowl; it appeared very thin for theprice it had cost. As for Peppino, he examined the paper attentively,put it into his pocket, and continued eating his peas.