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Sister Anne Part 5

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Monsieur Menard was a man of about fifty years of age, very short and stout, and with a very fat face. He had a double chin, which was quite in harmony with a nose like a huge chestnut. Like Monsieur Tartufe, he had red ears and a florid complexion. His stomach was beginning to embarra.s.s him a little, but his short legs, with their enormous calves, seemed strong enough to support an even heavier bulk.

Monsieur Menard had pa.s.sed almost the whole of his life in teaching young people; he had retained the mild and benign manners which a tutor employed in good society always adopts with his pupils. He was not a great scholar, but he was proud of what he did know, and was by no means insensible to praise. His narrow intellect had become even more confined by having no exercise except with children; but Monsieur Menard was upright, kindly, and peaceably disposed; his only weakness was a tendency to feel that his stature was increased when he conversed with a lord, and his only fault a very p.r.o.nounced fondness for the pleasures of the table, which was sometimes the occasion of a slight indisposition; not that he drank immoderately, but because he returned too often to a truffled turkey or a salmi of partridges.

The Comte de Montreville summoned Monsieur Menard, who hastened to obey the summons and joyfully accepted the proposition that was made to him.

To travel in a comfortable post chaise with the Comte de Montreville's son, with that one of his pupils who reflected the greatest credit on him! that was unexampled good fortune for the excellent tutor, who happened to be unemployed at the moment.

The count urged him to have an eye upon Frederic, but not to thwart his caprices when it was simply a question of indulging in the follies characteristic of his years. As he was well pleased with his son's ready submission in the matter of a travelling companion, he determined to reward him by allowing him to go wherever he chose.



Everything being settled between the count and the two travellers, Monsieur de Montreville handed Monsieur Menard a considerable sum of money, which was to be at Frederic's disposal.

"Travel in a manner befitting your rank, my son," said the count; "but do not squander this money foolishly. I have succeeded, by leading always an orderly, regular life, in saving a considerable fortune in antic.i.p.ation of your marriage; but you must not encroach upon your patrimony. If you need more money, however, Monsieur Menard will let me know."

Frederic promised to behave himself; but he had just written to Dubourg that he was to start the next morning, and that he should take the Lyon road.

A young man's preparations are soon made. Monsieur Menard's took a little longer; like the prudent man he was, he did not take his place in the carriage until he had bestowed one of Lesage's pates in the box, and a bottle of madeira in his pocket.

At last, everything was ready. Frederic was overjoyed to leave Paris and Madame Dernange. The poor boy fancied that she would regret him, and that his departure would make her miserable! He was certain to lose all such illusions after he had travelled a short time.

The carriage was waiting; the postilion was in the saddle. Frederic pressed his father's hand to his heart, Monsieur Menard bowed six times to the count and entered the chaise backward in order to have the honor of continuing to bow. Frederic jumped into his seat, the postilion cracked his whip, and they were off for Italy.

IV

A NOVEL WAY OF MAKING ACQUAINTANCES.--BARON POTOSKI

The two travellers were not far from Paris, when the conversation between them began to flag; at the outset, Monsieur Menard expressed to Frederic his very great pleasure in being in his company, and Frederic thanked him; then they admired the view at several points. But soon the younger man's thoughts reverted to Madame Dernange and other disloyal fair ones, and he became pensive and silent; whereupon Monsieur Menard turned his attention to the pate with which he had taken care to supply himself, and entered upon a conversation with it, which he interrupted only to say a word or two to the bottle of madeira.

"I imagine that we shall have a delightful trip," said Frederic, emerging from his reverie.

"I agree with you, monsieur le comte; we have everything requisite for it," replied Monsieur Menard, with a smile, making haste to swallow what he had in his mouth. "If monsieur le comte would like to taste this pate--it is delicious."

"No, thanks, my dear Menard; I am not hungry yet."

"As monsieur le comte pleases."

"Oh! I beg you, no _monsieur le comte_ between ourselves; call me Frederic, that is much better."

"But, monsieur le comte--when we are travelling--at public-houses--it is well that people should know that they have the honor----"

"Yes, of course; so that they can make us pay four times the usual prices. I tell you again that I want to avoid all those ceremonies which add nothing to the pleasure of a journey."

"You will at least allow me to call you Monsieur de Montreville; for monsieur le comte your father might be angry if he knew that you travelled incognito."

"By the way, how much money did he give you?"

"Eight thousand francs, monsieur."

"Eight thousand francs! that's none too much!"

"Oh! Monsieur de Montreville, surely it is enough, when we have in addition a comfortable carriage and good horses. We are not going to the world's end. And then, you know, your father said that we could ask him for more, in an emergency."

"True; besides, we're not going to do anything foolish."

"And it would be imprudent to carry a larger sum on a journey. We are going to Italy, and that country is infested with brigands; between Rome and Naples, especially, they say the highroads are very dangerous. When we get there, we must take every precaution."

Frederic made no reply; he was thinking of Dubourg, and was surprised that he had heard nothing from him. They were already nine leagues from Paris, on a very fine road, where it was difficult to imagine any possible mishap.

Suddenly the loud cracking of a postilion's whip announced that there were other travellers behind them. Frederic looked back, and saw a small berlin coming up at a gallop. The clatter drew rapidly nearer, indicating that the berlin was overtaking them and would soon pa.s.s them by. A cloud of dust enveloped them, but the road was so wide that there was no need for them to turn out. But just as they expected to see the berlin whirl by, it collided with their carriage; and the shock was so violent that the post chaise was overturned beside the ditch, into which Monsieur Menard was thrown headlong, shrieking at the top of his voice.

The berlin stopped. The postilion of the chaise reviled the other postilion, calling him fool and blockhead and drunkard, for running into him on a road where three carriages could easily pa.s.s. The other postilion limited his reply to a sneering laugh, which inflamed his confrere's wrath. Frederic, who was not injured, went to Monsieur Menard, to ascertain what his condition was. He proved to be more frightened than hurt; he felt himself all over, straightened his wig, and kept repeating that the fall would certainly upset his digestion.

Meanwhile, the postilion of the berlin had dismounted; after exchanging a few words with his pa.s.senger, he, hat in hand, approached our travellers, who were still in the ditch, and, after apologizing for his awkwardness, said to them that Baron Ladislas Potoski, Palatine of Rava and Sandomir, requested permission to come in person to inquire for their welfare, and to offer them such a.s.sistance as was in his power.

When he heard the postilion declaim the name and t.i.tles of his pa.s.senger, Monsieur Menard scrambled out of the ditch, and removed from under his waistcoat one end of his ruff, which his fall had rumpled.

"Tell your master that we appreciate his courtesy," said Frederic; "but that it is unnecessary for him to put himself out; I think that the accident will have no serious results."

"But there's something broken in our chaise," said Monsieur Menard; "and we might avail ourselves of Monsieur le Palatine Pota--Poto--Potiouski's offer, to reach the next village."

The tutor had not finished speaking, when the soi-disant Polish n.o.bleman alighted from his berlin and walked toward them, with his hand on his hip, affecting a most dignified air and carriage. Frederic looked up and recognized Dubourg; he was on the point of laughing outright, when his friend forestalled him by running toward him, exclaiming:

"I cannot be mistaken! What a fortunate meeting! It surely is Monsieur Frederic de Montreville!"

And he threw his arms about Frederic, who also feigned surprise and cried:

"What! why! it is Monsieur de--Monsieur du----"

"Baron Potoski!" whispered Dubourg.

"Monsieur le Baron Potoski!"

During this recognition, which took place on the edge of the ditch, Monsieur Menard outdid himself in salutations, pulling Frederic gently by his coat-tails the while, in order to lead him back to the highroad, which seemed to him a more suitable place for his introduction to the n.o.ble Pole.

At last, Dubourg turned to Menard, and said, addressing Frederic:

"Have I the honor of seeing monsieur le comte your father?" And he bestowed upon the tutor the most gracious and most dignified smile imaginable.

"No," said Frederic; "but he has been a second father to me. Allow me to present Monsieur Menard, my former tutor."

"Monsieur Menard!" said Dubourg, a.s.suming an expression of unfeigned admiration, and gazing at the tutor as one might gaze at Voltaire.

"What! can it be that this is Monsieur Menard? Peste! I have often heard of him; the _primus inter pares_ of tutors! How delighted I am to make his acquaintance! _Tandem felix_, Monsieur Menard, since I know you."

Monsieur Menard did not know where he was; this deluge of courtesies and flattery from the Palatine of Rava and Sandomir so confused and delighted him, that his profuse salutations would have landed him in the ditch a second time, had not Frederic caught him opportunely.

Dubourg finally put an end to the poor man's embarra.s.sment by taking his hand and pressing it hard.

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About Sister Anne Part 5 novel

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