San-Cravate; or, The Messengers; Little Streams Part 25

Did she accept the subst.i.tution with a good grace?"

"I am perfectly content!" Pigeonnier replied, trying to a.s.sume a triumphant swagger. "She didn't seem at all angry over the adventure; she treated me very kindly."

"Good--I understand. So everything went as you wished, eh?"

"In other words, it is impossible for me to be happier than I have been."

"What did I tell you?"

"You're not attending to your game, Albert," said Celestin.

"Yes, I am. I have opened."

"I take all bets."

"Done!"

"You're stuck! I have _misty_."[C]

"What infernal luck! That makes four hundred francs I've lost already!--I say, Balivan, give me some punch, to drown my loss."

"Give me a cigar, Balivan."

"Balivan, you promised me your Moorish pipe; you are going to give it to me, aren't you?"

"Pa.s.s me your tobacco pouch, will you?"

"One moment, messieurs, I can't do everything; I'm going to call my lady's-maid, on condition that you treat her with respect.--Hallo, there, Crevette!"

"Is Crevette your servant's name?" inquired Tobie, helping himself to punch.

"Yes, she's a Burgundian; she had a name that I didn't fancy--it was Cateau![D] You understand that, when I had a lady of fas.h.i.+on here, I couldn't say: 'Cateau, come and take off madame's shawl. Cateau, go and call a cab.' To talk constantly of Cateau before my models, too, was imprudent. So I asked my Burgundian for her family name, and she's a Crevette."

The Burgundian answered her master's summons. She was a robust young woman, with plump red cheeks, and enormous hands and arms of the hue of boiled lobster. She laughed readily enough at the somewhat decollete jests which the young men addressed to her; but when their words were reinforced by gestures, the Burgundian made free use of her hands, and the lightest tap dealt by her was equivalent to a hard blow with the fist.

"Bring us something to drink, Crevette."

"Punch?" said the Burgundian.

"Beer for me, my chubby wench!--Isn't she fresh, though! and solid!"

"Come, come! down with your paws! I won't have you touching me!"

"Oh! what a calf she must have!--Crevette, show me your leg, just up to the garter, and I'll give you half of my winnings."

"No, I won't show you anything."

"Parbleu! that's a magnificent offer of his, to give you half of his winnings! he's lost ten napoleons already!"

Young Tobie, who had swallowed three gla.s.ses of punch in succession in order to attain the level of the rest of the company, softly approached the servant and seized her leg while her back was turned; but the Burgundian, without putting down her tray, instantly brought her elbow back against his nose, crying:

"Let that teach you to pinch me! I'm going to bed--I won't come into your studio again, monsieur; your friends are too enterprising."

Crevette vanished; Tobie put his hand to his nose and seated himself in a corner, muttering:

"I won't fool with her any more; there's no feeling in my nose."

"Poor Tobie! but he can't seem to get enough. He comes here fresh from a delicious tete-a-tete with a charming woman, and he must needs begin at once on a servant! What an omnibus seducer!"

"What would he do, I wonder," said Balivan, "if he should see my little neighbor overhead?"

"You have a pretty neighbor, have you?" queried Albert.

"Charming! Seventeen years old at most, I judge; a fascinating figure!

and a saucy, mischievous face--with innocence, grace, and modesty in her glance. Seriously, she's one of the prettiest grisettes I ever saw."

"Send for her!" cried the young men in chorus.

"Make her come down, Balivan."

"Shall I go up and fetch her?" asked Tobie, taking his hand from his nose, which was badly swollen by the blow he had received.

"I will magnetize her; she will enjoy that," said Dupetrain.

"No, messieurs," said Balivan, "there's no way of inducing her to come here. Parbleu! if it could be done, I'd ask nothing better. I have offered again and again to paint her portrait and give it to her--to paint her in any costume she chose."

"Even as Eve, if she wanted you to, eh?"

"All my offers have been declined. She's a virtuous young woman, it would seem. She lives with her aunt, and never goes out except to her work; she's a dressmaker."

"Ha! ha!" laughed Celestin; "she's a dressmaker, and you haven't triumphed over her, my dear fellow! Others may succeed better; and if I should take a hand----"

"Oh! you are such a superb creature, it's quite possible. Still, I doubt it."

"What do you want to bet?"

"Come, attend to your game, messieurs, for G.o.d's sake!" said Mouillot.

"Sapristi! I have _misty_, and not one of you stands!"

"Monsieur had _brelan_, and he pa.s.sed!" cried Tobie. "What a blunder!"

"Not at all. Do you think we're playing _brelan_?"

"You're not playing _brelan?_ Why, aren't you playing bouillotte?"

"Yes, but the _brelan_[E] is never played in bouillotte, nowadays. Where have you been, young Pigeonnier?"

"What do you play, then?"