CHAPTER IV.
PRADELINE.
Gonthram Neroweg, Count of Plouernel, occupied a cosy little house onParadis-Poissonniere Street, built by his own grandfather. The somewhat_rococo_ elegance of the establishment suggested it must have beenconstructed about the middle of the last century, and had done serviceas a city residence. The quarter of the Poissonnieres, or Fish-markets,as the neighborhood was called in the days of the Regency, but nowalmost deserted, was perfectly appropriate for those mysterious retreatsthat are devoted to the cult of Venus Aphrodite.
The Count of Plouernel was breakfasting _tete-a-tete_ with a pretty girlof about twenty years--a brunette, lively and laughterful, who had beensurnamed Pradeline because of her readiness, at the suppers of which shealways was the soul and often the queen also, in improvising upon allimaginable subjects, ditties that the celebrated improviser, whose nameshe bore with a feminine termination, would surely not have cared tofather, but which had at least the redeeming feature of lacking neitherin point nor in mirthfulness.
The Count of Plouernel, having heard speak of Pradeline, invited her tosup the previous night with him and some of his friends. After thesupper, which was prolonged until three in the morning, the right ofhospitality for the night had been earned by the girl. After thehospitality came breakfast the following morning. The two companionswere, accordingly, at table in a little boudoir fitted out in Louis XVstyle, and contiguous to the bed chamber. A good fire blazed in themarble-tipped hearth. Thick curtains of light blue damask, covered withroses, softened the glare of the daylight. Flowers filled largeporcelain vases. The atmosphere was warm and perfumed. The wines werechoice, the dishes toothsome. Pradeline and the Count of Plouernel weredoing honor to both.
The colonel was a man of about thirty-eight years of age--tall, and atonce lithe and robust. His face, though rather haggard, on that morning,was of a species of bold beauty, and strongly betrayed his German orFrankish stock, the characteristic traits of which Tacitus and Caesarfrequently described. His hair was light blonde, his moustache long andreddish, his eyes light grey, and his nose hooked like an eagle's beak.
Wrapped in a costly morning gown, the Count of Plouernel seemed no lesshilarious than the young girl.
"Come, Pradeline," said he, pouring out to her a glass of generous oldBurgundy wine, "to the health of your lover."
"Nonsense! Do you think I keep a lover?"
"You are right. To the health of your lovers!"
"You don't seem to be jealous, darling!"
"And you?"
At this question Pradeline nonchalantly opened her red corsage, andclinking her glass with the blade of her knife she answered the Count ofPlouernel with an improvisation to the tune then in vogue of _La Rifla_:
"For ague-cheeked Sir Fidelity I only have duplicity. When some gay lover pleases me, 'Tis quickly done! He pleases me-- La rifla-fla-fla-fla, la rifla-fla-fla-fla, La rifla-fla-fla-fla-fla-fla-fla."
"Bravo, my dear!" cried the colonel, laughing boisterously.
And joining in chorus with Pradeline, he sang, also clinking his glasswith the edge of his knife:
"When some gay lover pleases me, 'Tis quickly done! He pleases me. La rifla-fla-fla-fla, la rifla-fla-fla-fla, La rifla-fla-fla-fla-fla-fla-fla."
"And now, my little girl," he proceeded to say at the close of therefrain, "since you are not jealous, give me some advice--some friendlyadvice. I am in love--desperately in love."
"Is it possible!"
"If she were a woman of the world I would not ask your advice, but--"
"Well! Well! Am I, perchance, not a woman? and of the world, too?"
"Of all the world, not true, my dear?"
"Naturally, seeing I'm here--which is little to your credit, my dear,and less creditable to me. But that matters not. Proceed, and don't berude again--if you can avoid it."
"Oh! The little one gives me a lesson in politeness!"
"You want my advice; you see I can give you lessons. Proceed, what haveyou to say?"
"You must know I am in love with a shop-girl, that is to say, her fatherand mother keep a shop. You surely know the ways of such folks, theircustoms and habits. What means would you advise me to employ in order tosucceed?"
"Make yourself beloved."
"That takes too long. When a violent fancy seizes me, I find itimpossible to wait."
"Indeed! 'Tis wonderful, but, darling, you interest me greatly. Let'ssee. First of all is the shop-girl poor? Is she in great want? Does sheseem very hungry?"
"How? Whether she is hungry? What the devil do you mean?"
"Colonel, I can not deny your personal attractions--you're handsome,you're brilliant, you're charming, you're adorable, you're delicious--"
"Irony?"
"What do you think! Would I dare to? Well, as I was saying, you'redelicious! But, in order for the poor girl to appreciate you duly, shemust first be dying of hunger. You have no idea how hunger--helps tofind people adorable."
Whereupon Pradeline sailed in to improvise a new ditty, not, this time,in merry vein, but with marked bitterness, and keeping time with such aslow measure that her favorite tune sounded melancholic:
"You're hungry and you weep, Come, maid, and fall asleep; Come, you'll have plenty of gold, Thyself to me be sold. La rifla-fla-fla-fla, la rifla--"
"The devil take that song! This one is not at all jolly," remarked theCount of Plouernel, struck by the melancholic accents of the young girl,who, however, quickly resumed her reckless bearing and wontedcheerfulness. "I understand the allusion," he added; "but my prettyshop-girl is not hungry."
"The next thing--is she coquettish? Does she love to be prinked? Doesshe like jewelry, or theaters? These are famous means to blast a poorgirl."
"I presume she likes all those things. But she has a father and mother,and they probably keep a close watch over her. In view of all this Ihad a plan--"
"You? At last you have a plan of your own! And what is it?"
"It is to make frequent and large purchases in that shop, even to loanthem money at a pinch, because I know those small traders must ever behard pushed for cash to pay their bills."
"In other words, you believe they will be ready to sell you theirdaughter--for cash?"
"No; but I figure that they will at least shut their eyes--I would thenbe able to dazzle the minx with presents, and proceed rapidly to mygoal. Well, how does my plan strike you?"
"I'll be blown! How can I tell?" answered Pradeline, affectinginnocence. "If things are done in your upper world in that manner, ifparents sell their daughters, perhaps the thing is done in the same wayamong the poorer folks. Still, I don't believe it. These people are toobourgeois, they are too niggardly, you see?"
"My little girl," said the Count of Plouernel haughtily, "you areemancipating yourself prodigiously."
At this reproach the young girl broke out with a peal of laughter, whichshe interrupted to sing in merry notes this new improvisation:
"O! See that bold signor, So full of pride, honor? To such a haughty flea All bourgeois bend the knee! La rifla-fla-fla-fla, la rifla--"
After which Pradeline rose, took from the mantlepiece a cigar that shedeftly lighted, and proceeded to hum her refrain between the puffs ofsmoke that she blew out of her cherry lips. She then stretched herselfat full length upon a lounge, and drove in silence the bluish smoke ofher choice Havana towards the ceiling.
Forgetting the anger with which he was seized shortly before, the Countof Plouernel could not avoid laughing at the originality displayed bythe young girl, and said:
"Come, my little pet; let us talk seriously. I am not asking for songs,but for advice."
"I must first be informed of the quarter of the town in which your loveis located," observed the young girl dogmatically, turning over on thelounge. "The knowledge of the quarter is very important in such matters.What may be done in one quarter, can not be done in another. Darling,there are prudish quarters,
devout quarters, and _decollete_ quarters."
"Profoundly reasoned, my charmer. The influence of a quarter upon thevirtue of its women is considerable. Without running any risk I may tellyou that my shop-girl lives on St. Denis Street."
The young girl, who, stretched out upon the lounge, had been leisurelyand nonchalantly rolling the clouds of smoke from her cigar before her,started at the mention of St. Denis Street, and rose so suddenly thatthe Count of Plouernel looked at her in astonishment, and cried:
"What the devil has come over you?"
"What has come over me--" answered Pradeline, quickly recovering hercomposure and wonted nonchalance, "what has come over me is that yourhorrible cigar has burnt me--but that's no matter. You were saying,darling, that your love is located in St. Denis Street? Well, now I havesomething to go by; but not yet enough."
"And you shall not learn any more, my little beauty."
"The pest take this cigar!" exclaimed Pradeline, again shaking her head."It will blister me! It will blister me surely!"
"Would you like some cold water?"
"No, it will soon be over. So, then, your love lives in St. DenisStreet. You should also let me know--is the place at the head or thefoot of the street? There is quite some difference between the head andthe foot of a street, you must admit. The proof is, that the prices ofthe shops are dear at one end and cheap at the other. According as therent runs high or low, a lover's generosity must keep step and beproportionately great or less so. You can not get over this positivefact."
"It is a very positive fact. Well, I shall confide to you that my lovelives not far from the St. Denis Gate."
"I need put no further questions to render my opinion," said Pradelinewith a voice that she was at great pains to modulate into comical tones.Nevertheless, a closer observer than the Count of Plouernel would havenoticed a vague shadow of uneasiness flit over the otherwise gay girl.
"Well, what is your advice?"
"First of all--you should--" but, suddenly breaking off, the young girlsaid:
"Someone raps at the door, darling."
"You think so?"
"I am quite certain. Listen! Don't you hear?"
In fact the rapping was renewed.
"Walk in!" cried the Count.
A valet presented himself, looking disconcerted, and said to the Countanxiously:
"Monsieur Count, his Eminence--"
"My uncle!" exclaimed the Count of Plouernel, looking no lessdisconcerted than his valet, and hastily rising to his feet.
"Yes, Monsieur Count. Monsignor the Cardinal arrived last night in thecity from his trip abroad, and--"
"A Cardinal!" cried Pradeline, interrupting the valet with boisterouspeals of laughter, already oblivious of the matters that seemed topreoccupy her mind a minute before. "A Cardinal! That's a rare sight!That's a thing one does not find every day at Mabille's or atValentino's! A Cardinal! I've never seen one. I must give myself atreat."
Whereupon she forthwith improvised to the tune of her favorite song:
"The young Queen Bacchanal She saw a Cardinal, And said: Let's have some fun, And make him dance and run-- La rifla-fla-fla-fla, la rifla-fla-fla-fla, La rifla-fla-fla-fla-fla-fla-fla!"
So saying, Pradeline raised the hem of her dress and started to pirouetaround the room with great grace and utterly unconstrained, all thewhile singing her latest improvisation, while the valet, standingmotionless at the half-opened door was with difficulty keeping a seriousface, and the Count of Plouernel, nettled at the freedom of the brazenminx, called to her:
"Come, my dear; that's foolish; keep still."
Cardinal Plouernel, just announced, not caring to be kept waiting in hisnephew's ante-chamber, and little imagining him to be in such profanecompany, had followed upon the heels of the valet, and entered the roomjust as Pradeline, throwing out her well shaped limb, undulated herupper body as she sang:
"Oh, let us have some fun, And make him dance and run! La rifla-fla-fla-fla, la rifla--"
At the sight of the Cardinal the Count of Plouernel ran to the door, andrepeatedly and effusively embracing his uncle, gently pushed him backinto the salon from which he came. The valet, like the experiencedmenial that he was, discreetly shut the door of the boudoir upon hismaster, and drew the bolt.