San-Cravate; or, The Messengers; Little Streams Part 67

NOVELS

BY

Paul de k.o.c.k

VOLUME IV

SANS-CRAVATE;

OR,

THE MESSENGERS

VOL. II

LITTLE STREAMS

PRINTED BY ARRANGEMENT WITH

[Ill.u.s.tration]

GEORGE BARRIE'S SONS

THE JEFFERSON PRESS

BOSTON NEW YORK

_Copyrighted, 1903-1904, by G. B. & Sons._

SANS-CRAVATE;

OR,

THE MESSENGERS

[CONTINUED]

XXIII

A NEW PATRON

Several days had pa.s.sed since Albert left Paris. His sudden departure had greatly surprised his friends and boon companions, and, as they did not know the cause of it, each of them formed his own conjectures.

"He probably thought that there wasn't enough sport in Paris," said Mouillot, "and has gone elsewhere in search of adventures."

"I have no doubt that he is following some woman who has magnetized him," observed Monsieur Dupetrain; "someone who can make him go to the end of the world by the power of her magnetic fluid."

Balivan, distraught as always, exclaimed at first:

"What! Albert has left Paris? That's very strange! Can he have gone on a sketching trip?"--But on the next and following days, as he smoked his cigar on the boulevard, he never failed to say: "It's a surprising thing--I haven't met Albert to-day."

Monsieur Varinet, the young man with white eyebrows, and holder of Tobie's olive, said nothing at all.

There were two persons who might have informed these gentlemen as to the cause of Albert's departure: Tobie Pigeonnier, who had been his second in the duel, a fact of which he would have boasted everywhere had he not been forced anew to shun the society of his friends; for, being less prepared than ever to redeem his fetich, and to cut a figure in society, the little man had disappeared; no one ever saw him, by day or by night, so that it might well be believed that he was dead or had left Paris; and Monsieur Varinet was beginning to contemplate distrustfully the little, dried fruit which he still kept in his purse.

The second person was Monsieur Celestin de Valnoir; that gentleman, who had known of Albert's duel, was not long in learning of his departure from Paris. He was no sooner absolutely certain of that fact than he hastened to Madame Baldimer's to inform her.

That lady, whose features had a.s.sumed a more serious expression than ever since her rupture with young Vermoncey, received Celestin rather coldly; when she had listened to what he had come to tell her, as to something which she already knew, she replied shortly:

"Your intimate friend has left Paris without you! It seems to me that he has treated us about alike; our discredit is complete. The result is, monsieur, that I fancy that you are not likely to know much more than I about his affairs hereafter, so that you will not be called upon to put yourself out to please me."

Celestin tried to a.s.sume a sentimental air, as he replied:

"Hereafter, madame, I shall not come to talk about Albert, but about myself and my love for you. I have broken entirely with my friend, for Albert, having found me with you, is too jealous to forgive me. I care very little, however, for his hatred or his indifference, since you have promised to reward me."

Madame Baldimer rose and bowed low to her visitor.

"I will keep my promise, monsieur, as you will see very soon."

And the next day, Celestin received a parcel carefully wrapped in paper, and a short note, in Madame Baldimer's hand, containing these words only:

"I promised to pay you for what you did for me, and I keep my promise, monsieur. Deign to accept the contents of this parcel; it is your compensation."

Celestin hastily tore off the wrapper, and found the magnificent shawl that Albert had presented to the fair American, and the costly opera gla.s.s given her by Count Dahlborne. Thus she rewarded Celestin by sending him the gifts she had received from her other two adorers.

At first, he gnawed his lips in anger, muttering:

"What does she take me for? I consider her d.a.m.nably impertinent. The idea of offering to pay me! It won't take me long to send back her parcel."

But, after examining the two objects, Celestin thought better of it and sent neither of them back.

"They will help me to seduce some other woman," he said to himself.

Madame Baldimer had estimated him at his exact value.

Paul had resumed his occupation; as before, he arrived at his stand very early in the morning; but Elina, too, came to her work at the dressmaker's before any of her fellow apprentices had left their beds--in spite of which fact, she was sometimes the last to appear in the workroom; for every morning she slackened her pace when she saw the young messenger, who ran quickly to meet her. It rarely happens that there is not some doorway, some pa.s.sage, some porte cochere, which offers shelter to those who wish to talk, and who are very glad not to stand where they are exposed to the eyes of everybody who pa.s.ses.

Lovers especially seek sheltered nooks and dark corners; when they are walking together on the street, you will see them look out of the corners of their eyes, to right and left, hoping to espy some obscure pa.s.sageway, and agreeing that it is a great pity that all the new houses have porte cocheres. And as soon as they discover the most uninviting nook, they hasten thither to talk a moment. That moment sometimes lasts for hours. Oftentimes a concierge, disgusted that any one should talk unless they talk to her, calls out impertinently from the end of the pa.s.sage:

"Aren't you most through chattering there? Well! those people are making themselves at home! They make a.s.signations in my pa.s.sageway! They keep other folks out, but what do they care! If I didn't keep an eye on 'em, G.o.d knows what they'd be up to on my premises! G.o.d! what a place this world is getting to be!"