Le Cocu Part 55

"'A case, of common enough occurrence in its general character, but very interesting in its details and in the course of the trial, was heard to-day in the Court of First Instance. Monsieur Ferdinand-Julien Belan married in June, 1824, Mademoiselle Armide-Constance-Fidele de Beausire. For several years----'"

"Ferdinand Belan?" I exclaimed, waking from my reverie. All eyes were turned upon me, and someone exclaimed:

"Do you know him? Is he a friend of yours? What sort of man is he? Tell us about him."

"I do know a person of that name, but perhaps it is not the same man. My Belan is married, it is true, but I lost sight of him a long while ago.

I know nothing whatever about him."

"Oh! it's probably this man."

"He must look a fool!" cried a young guest.

"It seems to me that to be a betrayed husband must give a man a queer look!"

"That is a young man's reflection," said the Englishman. "If such things could be read on the face, the French would laugh much less at them."

"Messieurs, I once played Sganarelle in _Le Cocu Imaginaire_; it was at Bordeaux. I played it afterward at Paris; but this that I am going to tell you about happened at Bordeaux. It was a performance that had been planned long before, and I was not to be in it. But all of a sudden the amateur who was to play Sganarelle became involved in a disastrous failure; he lost two hundred thousand francs. You can imagine that he didn't care to act in theatricals then. The company was in dire perplexity, when Mole, who was one of them, said: 'Pardi! I know a man who can help us out of the sc.r.a.pe if he will; he is a friend of mine, who acts like a little angel, and he happens to be in Bordeaux at this moment.' And everybody said: 'Oh! bring us your friend! Bring us your friend!' Mole came to me and said: 'Will you play Sganarelle in _Le Cocu Imaginaire_?' I answered: 'Why not?'

"'You will restore life to some charming women, whom you will embrace--Do you know the part?'

"'No.'

"'It is very long.'

"'I will know it to-morrow.'

"'I defy you to do it!'

"'What will you bet?'

"'A truffled turkey!'

"'Done.'--The next day I played Sganarelle and I had a tremendous success!"

"I believe, messieurs, that I brought this newspaper in order to read it to you; and if you will permit me----"

That devil of a man would not be denied; and although I knew very well that it was about the Belan whom I knew, I was not at all curious to hear the report of his suit. Luckily, the mistress of the house entered the salon at that moment. After saluting everybody, she went to Mademoiselle Derbin.

"Mon Dieu! if I dared, mademoiselle--if it would not offend you, I----"

"What is it, madame?"

"We have a new guest, a French lady who has been here since morning. She has come to take the waters, and anyone can see that she is not travelling for pleasure solely, for she seems to be very ill, to suffer a great deal."

"Is it the young lady whom I saw this morning?" asked the Englishman.

"Yes, my lord."

"She has a very interesting air."

"But what can I do, madame?" asked Caroline.

"I beg pardon, mademoiselle, it's like this. This lady, who has very good style and excellent manners, has n.o.body with her but her maid. She has not left her room since morning, and I am afraid that she is bored.

I went up to her room for a moment just now, and told her that the guests were a.s.sembled in the salon this evening, and that she ought to come down, that it would divert her. She neither consented nor refused.

She seems very shy; but if anyone of the party, like yourself, mademoiselle, should go up and urge her to come, I am certain that she would not refuse. Poor woman! she seems so miserable! I am convinced that in company she would forget her suffering a little."

Several of the guests added their entreaties to the landlady's. I myself, well pleased that the newspaper should be forgotten, urged Mademoiselle Derbin to bring us the invalid.

"Since you are so curious to see this lady, messieurs," said Caroline, rising, "I will go to her as your amba.s.sador. But do not rejoice overmuch beforehand, for I do not agree to succeed; and you will perhaps be obliged to content yourselves with addressing your compliments to the ladies who are in the salon now."

Having said this with fascinating gayety, she left the salon with the landlady. That incident cast Belan's lawsuit into the shade, and I hoped that no one would recur to it; but I noticed that the old gentleman, who did not admit that he was beaten, had gone to a corner of the salon in evident ill humor, with the Gazette des Tribunaux still in his hand.

Several moments pa.s.sed.

"Mademoiselle Derbin will not succeed," said the Spaniard; "if that lady is ill, she will not leave her room."

"Why not?" said a young man; "need a person become a hermit because she comes here to take the waters?"

"I believe that my niece will succeed, messieurs; for in truth she succeeds in everything that she undertakes, and if she has taken it into her head to bring this new guest here, be sure that she will not return alone. My niece takes after me; I have played perhaps thirty parts in my life--what am I saying? I have played more than fifty!--Well, I a.s.sure you that at least a dozen of them I have learned in twenty-four hours, on the spur of the moment, like that of Sganarelle. But that was very long!--By the way, I haven't told you the effect that I produced on Mole. He had never seen me except in a servant's part; to be sure, Sganarelle is a servant's part, if you choose, but----"

"Here comes Mademoiselle Derbin, and she is bringing the lady," said a young man who had opened the door of the salon.

Instantly in obedience to a natural impulse of curiosity, we formed a circle and all eyes were turned toward the door.

Caroline appeared, leading the newcomer by the hand. Everybody bowed to the lady, and I, as I was about to do the same, stood as if turned to stone; then I fell back upon my chair. In that pale, thin woman, evidently ill and suffering, who had entered the room, I recognized Eugenie.

She had not seen me; for, as she came in, she bowed, without looking at all the people a.s.sembled in the room; and then, guided by Caroline, she went to a seat at once. I was almost behind her; I dared not move or breathe.

"Messieurs," said Mademoiselle Derbin, "madame has consented to accede to my entreaties; but I had a vast deal of difficulty in inducing her to leave her retreat, and you owe me much grat.i.tude."

The gentlemen thanked Caroline, who had seated herself near Eugenie. The conversation began anew. Eugenie took little part in it; she talked with no one but Mademoiselle Derbin, who questioned her about her health. I heard one of the young men say to Monsieur Roquencourt:

"I recognize that lady, I saw her at a party in Paris two years ago. Her name is Madame Blemont, and her husband has deserted her; he was a good-for-nothing, a gambler, a rake."

"Poor woman!" said Monsieur Roquencourt; "there are so many of those rascals of husbands who act in that way! to say nothing of the Beverleys, the Oth.e.l.los, the--I was asked once to play Beverley, and it is the only part that I ever refused!"

I glanced at the young man who had named my wife. I was quite certain that he did not know me, for I could not remember that I had ever met him in society. But I cannot describe what I suffered; the sight of Eugenie had revived all my pain. I would have liked to fly, but I dared not; I was afraid to move hand or foot; if she should turn her head slightly, she would see me.

However, that situation could not last long. Caroline, having ceased to talk to Eugenie, turned to me and said:

"Well, Monsieur Dalbreuse, why do you stand so far away? You look as if you were sulking. Pray come and talk with us a little."

I did not know what reply to make. But Eugenie had pushed her chair back as if to make room for me beside her neighbor; at the same moment she turned her eyes in my direction. Instantly I saw her sway from side to side, and her head fell against the back of her chair.

"This lady is ill!" cried Caroline, leaning over her. "Some salts, messieurs, quickly! Open the window; perhaps she needs air."

There was a general movement. I rose with the rest and was about to leave the salon, but Caroline called me, detained me, begged me to help her to carry the invalid to the window, which had been opened. How could I avoid doing what she asked? And then too, the sight of that woman, whose eyes were closed and whose pale lips and emaciated features indicated great suffering, caused me profound emotion, and a sentiment which almost resembled pleasure. I was not hardhearted, but she had injured me so deeply! It seemed to me that I was beginning to have my revenge. Why then should I leave that salon? Was it for me to fly? No, I proposed to see how she would endure my presence.