CHAPTER VIII.
THE GARRET.
The next day the Abbe Brigaud came to the chevalier's house at the samehour as before. He was a perfectly punctual man. He brought with himthree things particularly useful to the chevalier; clothes, a passport,and the report of the Prince of Cellamare's police respecting what theregent was going to do on the present day, March 24, 1718. The clotheswere simple, as became the cadet of a bourgeois family come to seek hisfortune in Paris. The chevalier tried them on, and, thanks to his owngood looks, found that they became him admirably.
The abbe shook his head. He would have preferred that the chevaliershould not have looked quite so well; but this was an irreparablemisfortune. The passport was in the name of Signior Diego, steward ofthe noble house of Oropesa, who had a commission to bring back to Spaina sort of maniac, a bastard of the said house, whose mania was tobelieve himself regent of France. This was a precaution taken to meetanything that the Duc d'Orleans might call out from the bottom of thecarriage; and, as the passport was according to rule, signed by thePrince de Cellamare, and "vised" by Monsieur Voyer d'Argenson, there wasno reason why the regent, once in the carriage, should not arrive safelyat Pampeluna, when all would be done.
The signature of Monsieur Voyer d'Argenson was imitated with a truthwhich did honor to the caligraphers of the Prince de Cellamare. As tothe report, it was a chef-d'oeuvre of clearness; and we insert it wordfor word, to give an idea of the regent's life, and of the manner inwhich the Spanish ambassador's police was conducted. It was dated twoo'clock in the morning.
"To-day the regent will rise late. There has been a supper in hisprivate rooms; Madame d'Averne was there for the first time instead ofMadame de Parabere. The other women were the Duchesse de Falaris, andSaseri, maid of honor to madame. The men were the Marquis de Broglie,the Count de Noce, the Marquis de Canillac, the Duc de Brancas, and theChevalier de Simiane. As to the Marquis de Lafare and Monsieur de Fargy,they were detained in bed by an illness, of which the cause is unknown.At noon there will be a council. The regent will communicate to the Ducsde Maine and de Guiche the project of the treaty of the quadruplealliance, which the Abbe Dubois has sent him, announcing his return inthree or four days.
"The rest of the day is given entirely to paternity. The day beforeyesterday the regent married his daughter by La Desmarets, who wasbrought up by the nuns of St. Denis. She dines with her husband at thePalais Royal, and, after dinner, the regent takes her to the opera, tothe box of Madame Charlotte de Baviere. La Desmarets, who has not seenher daughter for six years, is told that, if she wishes to see her, shecan come to the theater. The regent, in spite of his caprice for Madamed'Averne, still pays court to Madame de Sabran, who piques herself onher fidelity--not to her husband, but to the Duc de Richelieu. Toadvance his affairs, the regent has appointed Monsieur de Sabran hismaitre-d'hotel."
"I hope that is business well done," said the Abbe Brigaud.
"Yes, my dear abbe," replied D'Harmental; "but if the regent does notgive us greater opportunities than that for executing our enterprise, itwill not be easy for us to take him to Spain."
"Patience, patience," said Brigaud; "if there had been an opportunityto-day you would not have been able to profit by it."
"No; you are right."
"Then you see that what God does is well done. He has left us this day;let us profit by it to move."
This was neither a long nor difficult business. D'Harmental took histreasure, some books, and the packet which contained his wardrobe, anddrove to the abbe's house. Then he sent away his carriage, saying heshould go into the country in the evening, and would be away ten ortwelve days. Then, having changed his elegant clothes for those thatthe abbe had brought him, he went to take possession of his new lodging.It was a room, or rather an attic, with a closet, on the fourth story,at No. 5, Rue du Temps Perdu. The proprietor of the house was anacquaintance of the Abbe Brigaud's; therefore, thanks to hisrecommendation, they had gone to some expense for the young provincial.He found beautifully white curtains, very fine linen, and awell-furnished library; so he saw at once that, if not so well off as inhis own apartments, he should be tolerably comfortable.
Madame Denis (this was the name of the abbe's friend) was waiting to dothe honors of the room to her future lodger. She boasted to him of itsconvenience, and promised him that there would be no noise to disturbhim from his work. To all which he replied in such a modest manner, thaton going down to the first floor, where she lived, Madame Denisparticularly recommended him to the care of the porter and his wife.This young man, though in appearance he could certainly compete with theproudest seigneurs of the court, seemed to her far from having the boldand free manners which the young men of the time affected. 'Tis truethat the Abbe Brigaud, in the name of his pupil's family, had paid her aquarter in advance.
A minute after, the abbe went down to Madame Denis's room and completedher good opinion of his young protege by telling her that he receivedabsolutely nobody but himself and an old friend of his father's. Thelatter, in spite of brusk manners, which he had acquired in the field,was a highly respectable gentleman.
D'Harmental used this precaution for fear the apparition of the captainmight frighten Madame Denis if she happened to meet him. When he wasalone, the chevalier, who had already taken the inventory of his ownroom, resolved to take that of the neighborhood. He was soon able toconvince himself of the truth of what Madame Denis had said about thequietness of the street, for it was not more than ten or twelve feetwide; but this was to him a recommendation, for he calculated that ifpursued he might, by means of a plank passed from one window to thatopposite, escape to the other side of the street. It was, therefore,important to establish amicable relations with his opposite neighbors.
Unfortunately, they did not seem much disposed to sociability; for notonly were the windows hermetically sealed, as the time of year demanded,but the curtains behind them were so closely drawn, that there was notthe smallest opening through which he could look. More favored than thatof Madame Denis, the house opposite had a fifth story, or rather aterrace. An attic room just above the window so carefully closed, openedon this terrace. It was probably the residence of a gardener, for he hadsucceeded, by means of patience and labor, in transforming this terraceinto a garden, containing, in some twelve feet square, a fountain, agrotto, and an arbor.
It is true that the fountain only played by means of a superiorreservoir, which was fed in winter by the rain, and in summer by what hehimself poured into it. It is true that the grotto, ornamented withshell work, and surrounded by a wooden fortress, appeared fit only toshelter an individual of the canine race. It is true that the arbor,entirely stripped of its leaves, appeared for the time fit only for animmense poultry cage. As there was nothing to be seen but a monotonousseries of roofs and chimneys, D'Harmental closed his window, sat down inan armchair, put his feet on the hobs, took up a volume by the AbbeChaulieu, and began to read the verses addressed to Mademoiselle deLaunay, which had a double interest for him, since he knew the heroine.
The result of this reading was that the chevalier, while smiling at theoctogenarian love of the good abbe, discovered that he, less fortunate,had his heart perfectly unoccupied. For a short time he had thought hehad loved Madame d'Averne, and had been loved by her; but on her partthis deep affection did not withstand the offer of some jewels from theregent, and the vanity of pleasing him.
Before this infidelity had occurred, the chevalier thought that it wouldhave driven him to despair. It had occurred, and he had fought, becauseat that time men fought about everything which arose, probably fromdueling being so strictly forbidden. Then he began to perceive how smalla place this love had held in his heart. A real despair would not haveallowed him to seek amusement at the bal-masque, in which case theexciting events of the last few days would not have happened.
The result of this was, that the chevalier remained convinced that hewas incapable of a deep love, and that he was only destined for thosecharming wickednesses so m
uch in vogue. He got up, and began to walk upand down his room; while thus employed he perceived that the windowopposite was now wide open. He stopped mechanically, drew back hiscurtain, and began to investigate the room thus exposed.
It was to all appearance occupied by a woman. Near the window, on whicha charming little Italian greyhound rested her delicate paws, was anembroidery frame. Opposite the window was an open harpsichord betweentwo music stands, some crayon drawings, framed in black wood with a goldbead, were hung on the walls, which were covered with a Persian paper.Curtains of Indian chintz, of the same pattern as the paper, hung behindthe muslin curtains. Through a second window, half open, he could seethe curtains of a recess which probably contained a bed. The rest of thefurniture was perfectly simple, but almost elegant, which was dueevidently, not to the fortune, but to the taste of the modestinhabitant.
An old woman was sweeping, dusting, and arranging the room, profiting bythe absence of its mistress to do this household work, for there was noone else to be seen in the room, and yet it was clear it was not she whoinhabited it. All at once the head of the greyhound--whose great eyeshad been wandering till then, with the aristocratic indifferencecharacteristic of that animal--became animated. She leaned her headover into the street; then, with a miraculous lightness and address,jumped on to the window-sill, pricking up her long-ears, and raising oneof her paws. The chevalier understood by these signs that the tenant ofthe little room was approaching. He opened his window directly;unfortunately it was already too late, the street was solitary.
At the same moment the greyhound leaped from the window into the roomand ran to the door. D'Harmental concluded that the young lady wasmounting the stairs. In order to see her at his ease, he threw himselfback and hid behind the curtain, but the old woman came to the windowand closed it. The chevalier did not expect this denouement. There wasnothing for him but to close his window also, and to come back and puthis feet on the hobs. This was not amusing, and the chevalier began tofeel how solitary he should be in this retreat. He remembered thatformerly he also used to play and draw, and he thought that if he hadthe smallest spinet and some chalks, he could bear it with patience.
He rang for the porter, and asked where he could procure these things.The porter replied that every increase of furniture must be at his ownexpense. That if he wished for a harpsichord he must hire it, and thatas to pencils, he could get them at the shop at the corner of the Rue deClery.
D'Harmental gave a double louis to the porter, telling him that in halfan hour he wished to have a spinet and some pencils. The double louiswas an argument of which he had before found the advantage; reproachinghimself, however, with having used it this time with a carelessnesswhich gave the lie to his apparent position, he recalled the porter, andtold him that he expected for his double louis to have, not only paperand pencils, but a month's hire of his instrument.
The porter replied that as he would speak as if it were for himself, thething was possible; but that he must certainly pay the carriage.D'Harmental consented, and half an hour afterward was in possession ofthe desired objects. Such a wonderful place is Paris for every enchanterwith a golden wand. The porter, when he went down, told his wife that ifthe new lodger was not more careful of his money, he would ruin hisfamily, and showed her two crowns of six francs, which he had saved outof the double louis. The woman took the two crowns from the hands of herhusband, calling him a drunkard, and put them into a little bag, hiddenunder a heap of old clothes, deploring the misfortune of fathers andmothers who bleed themselves to death for such good-for-nothings. Thiswas the funeral oration of the chevalier's double louis.