Jacques Bonneval Part 11

"I am very sorry for you, but I am a poor man myself--here, take this trifle."

"Alas, we cannot eat money!" in a tone of such mournful reproach.

"No, true; it will buy a little bread--but there are no shops. Jean," in a lower voice to me, "I've a loaf in the cart, shall we part with it?"

"Give it to her by all means," said I.

Before he did so, he said to her, "True, you cannot eat money, but money will buy you bread in Nismes. Why not return there? The authorities are welcoming all that conform."

"Death rather than that!" said she, clasping her hands to her heart, and turning away.

"Stay, stay. Here is bread for you. It is all we have."

"Ah! bless--." She could say no more, but sobbed bitterly. La Croissette turned his face away.

"There are many of us, many!" sobbed she. "We shall so bless you. We will pray for you."

"Do so; do," said he, affecting composure, and whipping on.

CHAPTER IX.

CAST DOWN, BUT NOT DESTROYED.

The moon had now risen, and shone full on our road, which was completely exposed; but happily we met with no hindrance. The motion of the cart now made me very drowsy, and I fell into deep dreamless sleep. When I woke, feeling stiff and chilled, I wondered where I was. The cart had stopped, I was alone, the gray light of morning was forcing its way through the c.h.i.n.ks of my little lodging-house, but the door was locked.

I thought my position a curious one, and wondered whether La Croissette was going to give me up after all, to my enemies, but could not readily distrust a fellow apparently so kind-hearted. I lay still and listened to the sounds about me; the clucking of hens, gobbling of turkeys, stamping of horses, and lowing of calves, told me I was in a farm-yard.

Then I heard voices, including that of La Croissette, and presently a sharp cry and then a laugh. By-and-by, the key turned in the lock and he looked in on me.

"So ho, you are awake after a famous long nap," said he. "Do you want your breakfast?"

"If I do, want must be my master," said I, returning his smile. "We gave away our only loaf."

"But what if I have earned another, and a good bowl of milk?" rejoined La Croissette, producing both as he spoke. "There, sit up and eat your fill; I've had my share in the house."

"Where are we?" said I, readily obeying his instructions.

"At a wayside farm-house, where the honest people have given my horse a good feed, and you and me a good breakfast."

"How did you earn it, then?"

"By pulling out a tooth for a great lubberly boy, whose cheek had swollen enormously with toothache. Did you not hear him cry out? You might almost have heard him from here to Nismes."

"Yes, I heard him cry and then laugh."

"Because he was so glad to have got rid of it."

"Can you draw teeth, then?"

"I never drew one before, but I went at it as if it was a regular thing with me."

"How could you venture?"

"Psha! it is good to show confidence; and every one must have a beginning. Which of us would let a doctor try his hand on us, if we knew it was for the first time?"

I smiled and shook my head at him, but said no more. When I had swallowed the delicious milk, he said,

"Now I will return the bowl, and bring out my horse. I told them I had a sick brother in the cart, recovering from a burning fever, or you would have had some visitors. To make doubly sure, I locked you up."

"Would not that have been enough without the other?" I said, grieved at his want of truth.

"No, I think not, and I'm not as particular as you are."

Presently we were driving off again, and for a mile or so in silence.

Then La Croissette, looking back at me, said,

"There are certainly good people on both sides. That poor wretch to whom we gave the loaf was undoubtedly a good Huguenot; she would rather starve and die than abjure her faith. But here, again, are a family of Catholics, who are good, too, and believed every word I said, and liberally supplied my wants."

"Doubtless there are good people on both sides," said I; "and if the Catholics would believe it of us, we might yet live in peace and quietness together. We have not harmed them--it is they who harm us."

"For your good, they will tell you."

"They may tell us, but we cannot believe it. Their compulsions are not in the spirit of love."

La Croissette softly whistled, and presently talked of other things.

By-and-by he said,

"Now we are coming to a town, and you shall see some fun."

"Will it be quite safe?"

"Safer than anything else. It is a fair-day; I shall drive straight into the market-place, blow my horn, and play the quack doctor. Nay, you shall be my accomplice and blow the horn. Let me put you in costume at once."

Saying which, he fished out a soiled scarlet cloak, gaily spangled, which he threw over my shoulders, produced a half-mask with an enormous red nose, with which he concealed the upper part of my face, covered my head with a Spanish hat and feather, and gave me a horn.

"Now blow as much as you like," said he; "be as brazen as your trumpet."

I laughed, and entered into the joke; no one would suspect me for a Huguenot.

La Croissette then disguised himself in Dr. Jameray's long black gown, and added a pair of green spectacles, which certainly heightened the effect. Having driven into the market-place, he placed a little table before him and spread it with boxes and phials, I blowing the horn from time to time in a way which he called quite original, and which speedily drew people about us. Then, with wonderful self-possession, he harangued them on the merits of his medicines. For instance, taking up a phial which contained a pink-colored fluid, he descanted on its virtues in this style:

"My friends, this small bottle contains a famous specific, for those who know how to use it prudently. When I say prudently, I mean that there are certain things it will do and others it will not. This remedy is for increasing the strength, improving the appet.i.te, and clearing the head.

Will it, therefore, set a broken arm or draw a tooth? Most certainly not. I can draw a tooth for you, if you like it (by-the-by, some think I have a gift that way, but self-praise is no recommendation); I can draw a tooth, I say, no matter with how many fangs; but this medicine cannot. Does it follow, then, that it will cure a cough or sore throat?

Not at all. Here, if you like (taking up another bottle) is something that will, but what is that to the purpose? Will it cure sore eyes? No; or sprains? Far from it. No, no, my most excellent ladies and gentlemen, let us not form unreasonable expectations; day is not night; summer is not winter; nor is a horse-medicine a febrifuge. It is useless to a.s.sert such trash to sensible, well-informed people, Here is an opportunity, such as most of you may possibly never have again, of buying a most delightful and effectual medicine, sweet, not nauseous (strongly reminding one of cherry-brandy), gently exhilarating, and very difficult to be procured; indeed, I have only three small doses of it--three, did I say? I'm afraid I have only two--let me see--Oh, yes, here are three; and the price is merely nominal--"

The extreme frankness and moderation of this harangue of course met with great success; and purchasers speedily bought, not only his three pink bottles, but his green ones, his blue ones, his pills, his pomades, and his perfumed medicinal soaps that were to soften the skin, strengthen the joints, and promote longevity. After this, he sang a comic song of innumerable verses (with horn obligato) and delivered a discourse, in which he said there had never been more than three great men in the world, Louis the Fourteenth, Alexander the Great, and Hippocrates, the father of physic.