San-Cravate; or, The Messengers; Little Streams Part 89

Having said this with a swagger of importance, Tobie bade his friends adieu and left the cafe; but he had not walked thirty yards on the boulevard, when he was overtaken by Monsieur Dupetrain, who pa.s.sed his arm through his, saying:

"My dear Monsieur Pigeonnier, I have something very important to tell you--a warning--in fact, something that it is well you should know, so that you may be on your guard."

"What does this mean?" cried Tobie, taking alarm at once; "does anyone think of robbing me? Somebody has found out that I have come into my aunt's property, and means to rob me, I suppose?"

"It isn't that at all; in the first place, it's hardly probable that anyone who meant to rob you would have taken me into his confidence."

"No, that is true; but you tell me to be on my guard."

"You see, I take an interest in you, Monsieur Pigeonnier, for you believe in magnetism, and I remember that, the last time we dined together, I was going to tell you a very interesting anecdote concerning the extraordinary effects of somnambulism; it was this: A lady, whose husband was travelling, desired to know whether----"

Tobie abruptly dropped Monsieur Dupetrain's arm, and exclaimed impatiently:

"Was it because you proposed to tell me that, that you warned me to be on my guard?"

"Oh! I beg your pardon--I didn't tell you, did I? This is what it is: I met Monsieur Plays not long ago, at an evening party; you know Monsieur Plays, Madame Plays's husband?"

"Yes," Tobie replied, with a fatuous air, "an excellent sort of man; but I know his wife much better. Well! what did our dear Plays say to you?"

"Our dear Plays--as it pleases you to call him so--asked me, in the course of conversation, if I knew you; and, on my replying in the affirmative, urged me, if I should happen to see you, to beg you to avoid him, inasmuch as his wife has ordered him to kill you, because, it seems, you insulted and deceived her shamefully; that is all Plays chose to tell me."

Tobie roared with laughter.

"Gad! that is charming! delicious! Ah! she employs her husband to kill me, now! I can guess why. Poor husband! luckily, he is good enough to warn me. I thank you for your warning, my dear Monsieur Dupetrain, but I a.s.sure you that Monsieur Plays doesn't worry me at all; he's no duellist, and, besides, I shall only have to say a single word to him to---- Alas! I would to G.o.d I had no duel to reproach myself for!"

Again Tobie drew his handkerchief, as if deeply moved.

"I am delighted that this affair doesn't worry you," rejoined Dupetrain; "in that case, we can return to that anecdote that I didn't have time to finish: A young lady, whose husband----"

"Excuse me, Monsieur Dupetrain, but I have an important appointment; I will listen to it some other time, by your leave."

Two days after this conversation, Tobie, who had become a constant attendant at b.a.l.l.s, receptions, concerts, and the theatre, since he had inherited his Aunt Abraham's property, found himself face to face with Monsieur Plays and his wife in the foyer of the Opera.

Madame Plays stopped, cast a withering glance at Tobie, and nudged her husband.

"There he is," she said.

"Who?" queried Monsieur Plays.

"The insolent wretch who amused himself at my expense, and whom you must punis.h.!.+"

Monsieur Plays turned pale as death, and clung to his wife's arm, muttering:

"My corns hurt me terribly! the weather will change to-morrow; it's a sure sign of rain!"

"I'm not talking about your corns, monsieur; there's the young man who was responsible for my carrying a cigar in my bosom two months, and I must have satisfaction, monsieur. I will sit here on this bench, and I shan't lose sight of you. Go and challenge Monsieur Pigeonnier; if you don't, never hope to enter my boudoir again! you understand, monsieur; now, go!"

The superb Herminie seated herself at one end of the foyer, sustaining with much self-possession the glances bestowed upon her by the men who were walking back and forth there during the entr'acte. As for Monsieur Plays, who was compelled to go and pick a quarrel with a fellow creature--he would have preferred, at that moment, to be at Algiers, or on the railroad.

Tobie had recognized the happy couple; and he continued to stroll about the foyer, looking at himself in the mirrors, and trying to keep his monocle in his eye. Suddenly a timid voice addressed him; he turned, and saw Monsieur Plays, whose manner was anything but provocative, and who saluted him very courteously, saying:

"Have I the honor of speaking to Monsieur Tobie Pigeonnier?"

"Why, it's Monsieur Plays! Delighted to meet you! How's your health, Monsieur Plays?"

"Very good, thanks; but I am suffering a good deal with my corns. My boots hurt me. Have you any?"

"Boots?"

"No, corns."

"That species of discomfort is entirely unknown to me."

"Ah! you are very lucky!"

At this point, Monsieur Plays turned, and saw his wife looking daggers at him; he remembered what she demanded of him, and continued in an undertone:

"My dear Monsieur Pigeonnier, I must tell you that my wife has sent me to you, because she thinks you--you made sport of her when you told her that you had killed Monsieur Albert Vermoncey in a duel. Women take offence at trifles, you know; and Herminie is very sensitive. You gave her a cigar, too. In short, she's furious with you. So far as I am concerned, I am sure that you had no intention to be disrespectful to her, but she insists that I shall demand satisfaction. It's perfect nonsense; we must arrange it somehow----"

Tobie a.s.sumed a most solemn air, and interrupted Monsieur Plays.

"Your excellent wife is right, perfectly right, and I am not surprised that she has told you to kill me. Indeed, I agree with her."

Monsieur Plays s.h.i.+fted from one leg to the other, and looked uneasily at the little man, faltering:

"What! you--you want--to fight?"

"Hush, and listen to me! I tell you again that I should deserve all her anger and yours, if I had acted as she thinks. But it is not so; and now she is only too thoroughly revenged on poor Albert! In our first affair, I thought I had killed him, but I was mistaken. Later, I had my revenge.

When I learned of Albert's return to Paris, a month ago, I instantly sent him a challenge by a messenger, and he accepted it. Ah! he was a man of the nicest honor. We fought with pistols, near Pantin. I wounded Albert in the side, and he breathed his last the same day. Tell me, monsieur, if your good wife has any reason now to complain of me, when I have fought twice for her, when to avenge her I have killed one of my most intimate friends?"

"You are a brave fellow!" said Monsieur Plays, shaking Tobie's hand; "I never doubted it. So poor Albert is really dead this time?"

"Yes, unfortunately; for I will confess to you that it grieves me deeply."

"I believe it, oh! I believe it. Adieu, Monsieur Pigeonnier! It is my turn now to apologize to you."

"Your obedient servant, Monsieur Plays!"

Tobie sauntered away, and Herminie's spouse returned to his better half and repeated all that the young man had just told him. Madame Plays listened impatiently, then exclaimed:

"It isn't true. He has made a fool of you again. Albert isn't dead."

"But, my dear love, he seemed to be deeply moved, and then he gave me all those details."

"Lies! However, we will soon know the truth; and woe to you, monsieur, if you have allowed yourself to be hoodwinked! Come! Come!"

"Where, madame?"