The Barber of Paris Part 5

"Certainly not, darling; on the contrary, it is to preserve you from their snares that I gave it to you. It is under the protection of my patron saint; with that, my dear Blanche, you could go about, run anywhere; your innocence would not be in the slightest danger."

"Why, then, does my good friend never permit me to leave my room?"

"Ah, my dear Blanche, it is because M. Touquet does not believe in talismans; and it is very unfortunate for him."

"But you, Marguerite, who are afraid of everything,--why don't you carry a similar talisman?"

"Ah, my child, the quality of yours consists princ.i.p.ally in preserving your virtue, and at my age one has no need of a talisman to preserve that."

"My virtue! Do magicians take virtue from young girls?"

"Not only magicians, but fascinating gallants,--finally, all the worthless fellows of whom M. Touquet was talking to you this morning."

"And what would these people do with my virtue?"

"My dear child, that is to say, they would seek to turn your head, to give you a taste for coquetry, dissipation, baubles, vanity and deceit; then you would be no longer my good, sweet Blanche."

"Ah, I understand; but, dear nurse, without a talisman I fully believe that I should never have those tastes. I would do nothing that should cause trouble to those who had taken care of me from my infancy, who have done so much for me since I lost my father."

"That's all very well, my child, but with a talisman you see I am much easier; and if M. Touquet believed about it as I do, he would give you a little more liberty. Not that I blame him for fearing for you the attempts of worthless fellows; you are growing every day so pretty."

"Dear nurse, do worthless fellows trouble pretty girls, then?"

"Alas, yes, my dearie. I have seen them often do so; and, unfortunately, the pretty girls listen willingly to the good-for-nothing fellows."

"They listen willingly to them, nurse? Is it because they speak better than other men?"

"No, not better, but they know so well how to dissemble; their speech is golden, their eyes deceptive, their manners--Ah, how glad I am that you have a talisman!"

"But, nurse, since I do not leave my room--"

"That's true, my dear; but you will not always keep your room, and under my watchful care it seems to me that one could very well allow you to take a little walk from time to time. M. Touquet is severe--very severe--to make me change my lodging because I noticed that he did not sleep at night. Is it my fault--mine--that he does not sleep?"

"He prevents me from opening my window."

"Ah, that is because it opens on the street; and if he knew you looked so often through the lattice--But no one can possibly see you; the panes are so small, so close together."

"Oh, yes; it is like a grating."

"A father could not be more strict."

"Ah, Marguerite, he stands to me in the place of mine."

"Yes, yes; I know it well; however, he is no relation--is he?"

"No, Marguerite; I believe not."

"According to what I heard in the neighborhood, before I came into his service, you are the daughter of a poor gentleman who came to Paris to follow a lawsuit about ten years ago."

"Yes, dear nurse; I was then five years and some months of age. It seems to me, however, that I still remember my father; he was very good, and he often kissed me."

"And your mother,--do you remember her?"

"Alas, no; but I believe I can still remember the time when my father and I arrived here; we had been a long time in a carriage, and came from far off."

"And M. Touquet lodged you, for then he kept lodgings; and after that?"

"I was very tired; they gave me something to eat and put me to bed in this room, and I have always occupied it since."

"And after that?"

"I did not see my father again. The next day M. Touquet told me he was dead."

"Yes; it was very unfortunate, they say. There were then, as there are very often still, fights in the night between pages and lackeys and honest men, who were often attacked by these cursed scoundrels while entering their own houses. That night they committed a thousand disorders in the streets of Paris; several persons were a.s.sa.s.sinated; and your poor father, who had gone out, was, while returning, drawn into a brawl, and perished trying to defend himself. That is all that I have learned; do you know anything further?"

"No, Marguerite; besides, you know very well that my protector does not wish me to talk about that."

"Yes, because he fears that it will give you pain."

"He has deigned to keep me near him, to educate me as his daughter and give me some accomplishments; and I have for him the most lively grat.i.tude."

"Oh, yes; he has done very well by you. He loves you, although he is not caressing, nor does he say much; and I am very sure that he has the greatest interest in you. It seems that he does not intend himself to marry, although he is still young. He is in easy circ.u.mstances,--more so than he wishes it to appear."

"Do you believe that, Marguerite?"

"Ah, hus.h.!.+ If he knew that I had said that, and that I had sometimes seen him counting gold, he would send me away for it."

"You have seen him counting gold?"

"I did not say that to you, mademoiselle. No, no; I have seen nothing.

Ah, mon Dieu! what a gossip I am! I had much better go and attend to my moving."

"I will go with you, dear nurse."

"Come then, if you like, Blanche."

Blanche followed Marguerite as she went up, and hastened to carry the furniture and clothing of the old servant to the opposite room. In vain Marguerite cried to her,--

"Slowly, mademoiselle; don't carry anything until I have sprinkled it with holy water."

Blanche, to spare Marguerite fatigue, had very soon finished the moving.

"You will be better here," said Blanche; "this room is more convenient, larger."

"I shall find it pretty sad," said Marguerite, casting fearful glances around her. "That large alcove, those dark hangings, those recesses--Oh, mademoiselle, do see, if you please, if there is anything in that big closet."

Blanche ran to open the closet, and, after having looked through it, brought to Marguerite a little book, thick with dust.

"That's all I've found, dear nurse," said she, presenting the book to the old woman, who put on her spectacles and said,--