The Mysteries Of Paris Volume Vi Part 22

"And I also know that the kind doctor who has appointed our being here to-day even hopes your dear parent may be enabled to return with you to Paris; he thinks that it will be better to take some decided steps to throw off this malady, and that the unexpected presence of persons your father was in the daily habit of seeing may produce the most favourable effects,--perhaps cure him; and that is what I think will be the case."

"Ah, mademoiselle, I dare not hope for so much happiness."

"Madame Germain, my dear Louise, if it is all the same to you; but to go on with what I was telling you, you have no idea, I am sure, who M.

Rodolph really is?"

"Yes, I have,--the friend and protector of all who are unhappy."

"True, but that is not all. Well, as I see you really are ignorant of many things concerning our benefactor, I will tell you all about it."

Then addressing her husband, who was walking before her with Madame Georges, she said, "Don't walk so very fast, Germain, you will tire our mother!" And, with a look of proud satisfaction, she said, turning to Louise, "Does not he deserve to have a good wife? See how attentive he is to his mother! He certainly is very handsome, too,--a thousand times more so than Cabrion, or M. Girandeau, the travelling clerk! You remember him, don't you, Louise?

"Talking of Cabrion puts me in mind to ask you whether M. Pipelet and his wife have arrived yet? The doctor wished them to come here to-day with us, because your father has talked much about them during his wanderings."

"No, they are not here at present, but they will not be long. When we called for them they had already set out."

"And then as for being punctual in keeping an appointment, M. Pipelet is as exact as a clock to the hour and minute! But let me tell you a little more about my marriage and M. Rodolph. Only think, Louise, it was he who sent me with the order for Germain's liberation! You can imagine our delight at quitting that horrid prison. Well, we went home to my room, and there Germain and I together prepared a nice little bit of dinner; but, bless you! we might just as well have spared ourselves the trouble, for, after it was ready, neither of us could eat a bit for joy. When evening came Germain left me, promising to return the next day.

"Well, at five o'clock next morning, I got up and sat down to my work, for I was terribly behindhand with it. As eight o'clock struck some one knocked at the door; who should it be but M. Rodolph! Directly I saw him, I began to thank him from the bottom of my heart for all he had done for Germain and myself. He would not allow me to proceed. 'My kind neighbour,' said he, 'I wish you to give this letter to Germain, who will soon be here. Then you will take a _fiacre_, and proceed without delay to a small village, near Ecouen, called Bouqueval. Once there, inquire for Madame Georges; and I wish you all imaginable pleasure from your trip.' 'M. Rodolph,' I said, 'pray excuse me, but that will make me lose another day's work and I have already got two to make up for.'

'Make yourself perfectly easy, my pretty neighbour,' said he, you will find plenty of work at Madame Georges's, I promise you; she will prove an excellent customer, I have no doubt, and I have particularly recommended you to her.' 'Oh, that alters the case, M. Rodolph, then I'm sure I shall be but too glad to go.' 'Adieu, neighbour,' said M.

Rodolph. 'Good-bye,' cried I, 'and many thanks for so kindly recommending me.'

"When Germain came, I told him all about it; so as we were quite sure M.

Rodolph would not send us upon any foolish errand, we set off as blithe as birds. Only imagine, Louise, what a surprise awaited us on our arrival! I declare I can scarcely think of it without tears of happiness coming into my eyes. We went to the very Madame Georges you see walking before us, and who should she turn out to be but the mother of Germain!"

"His mother?"

"Yes, his own very mother, from whom he had been taken when quite a baby! You must try to fancy their mutual joy! Well, when Madame Georges had wept over her son, and embraced and gazed at him a hundred times, my turn came to be noticed.

"No doubt M. Rodolph had written something very favourable about me, for, clasping me in her arms, she said, 'She was acquainted with my conduct towards her son.' 'Then, mother,' interposed Germain, 'it only rests with you to ask her, and Rigolette will be your child as well as I.' 'And I do ask her to be my daughter with all my heart,' replied his mother, 'for you will never find a better or a prettier creature to love as your wife.'

"So there I was quite at home, in such a sweet farm, along with Germain, his mother, and my birds; for I had taken the poor, little, dear things with me, just to hear how delightedly they would sing when they found themselves in the country. The days pa.s.sed like a dream. I did only just what I liked,--helped Madame Georges, walked about with Germain, and danced and sung like a wild thing.

"Well, our marriage was fixed to take place on yesterday fortnight; the evening before, who should arrive but a tall, elderly, bald-headed gentleman, who looked so kind; and he brought me a _corbeille de mariage_ from M. Rodolph. Only think, Louise, what a beauty it must have been,--made like a large rosewood box, with these words written in letters of gold, on medallion of blue china, 'Industry and Prudence--Love and Happiness.' And what do you suppose this charming box contained? Why, a number of lace caps similar to the one I have now on, pieces for gowns, gloves, ornaments, a beautiful shawl, and this pretty scarf. Oh, I thought I should lose my senses with delight! But that is not all. At the bottom of the box I found a handsome pocketbook, with these words written on a bit of paper affixed to it, 'From a friend to a friend.' Inside were two folded papers, one addressed to Germain, and the other to me. In that addressed to Germain was an order for his appointment as director of a bank for the poor with a salary of four thousand francs a year; while he found under the envelope, directed to me, a money order for forty thousand francs on the treasury,--yes, that's the word; it was called my marriage portion.

"I did not like to take so large a sum, but Madame Georges said to me, 'My dear child, you both can and must accept it, as a recompense for your prudence, industry, and devotion to those who were in misfortune; for did you not run the risk of injuring your health, and probably deprive yourself of your only means of support, by sitting up all night at work, in order to make up for the time you spent in attending to others?'"

"Oh, that is quite true," exclaimed Louise, with fervour. "I do not think there is any one upon earth who would have done all that you have done, Mademoi--Madame Germain!"

"There's a good girl, she has learned her lesson at last! Well, I said to the elderly gentleman that I did not merit such a reward, that what little I had done was purely because it afforded me pleasure. To which he answered, 'That makes no difference; M. Rodolph is immensely rich, and he sends you this dowry as a mark of his friends.h.i.+p and esteem, and your refusal of it would pain him very much indeed. He will himself be present at your marriage, and then he will compel you to take it.'"

"What a blessing that so charitable a person as M. Rodolph should be possessed of such riches!"

"Of course it is! But I haven't told you all yet. Oh, Louise, you never can guess who and what M. Rodolph turns out to be; and to think of my making him carry large parcels for me! But have a little patience, you will hear about it directly.

"The night before the marriage the elderly gentleman came again very late, and in great haste,--it was to tell us that M. Rodolph was ill, and could not attend the wedding, but that his friend, the bald-headed gentleman, would take his place. And then only, my dear Louise, did we learn that our benefactor was--guess what--a prince! A prince, do I say?

Bless you, ever so much higher than that! A royal highness!--a reigning duke!--a sort of a second-rate king! Germain explained all about his rank to me!"

"M. Rodolph a prince!--a duke!--almost a king!"

"Just think of that, Louise! And imagine my having asked him to help me to clean my room! A pretty state of confusion it threw me into when I recollected all that, and how free I had spoken to him! So of course you know when I found that he was as good as a king, I did not dare refuse his gracious wedding present.

"Well, my dear, when we had been married about a week, M. Rodolph sent us word that he should be glad if Germain, his mother, and myself would pay him a wedding visit; so we did. I can tell you my heart beat as though it would come through my side! Well, we stopped at a fine palace in the Rue Plumet, and were ushered into a number of splendid apartments, filled with servants in liveries, all covered with gold lace, gentlemen in black, with silver chains around their necks and swords by their sides, officers in rich uniforms, and all sorts of gay looking people. The rooms we pa.s.sed through were all gilt, and filled with such beautiful things they quite dazzled my eyesight only to look at them.

"At last we got to the apartment where the bald-headed old gentleman was sitting, with a quant.i.ty of grand folks, all covered with gold lace and embroidery. Well, when our elderly friend saw us, he rose and conducted us to an adjoining room, where we found M. Rodolph--I mean the prince--dressed so simply, and looking so good and kind--just like the M. Rodolph we first knew--that I did not feel at all frightened at the recollection of how I had set him to pin my shawl for me, mend my pens, and walked with him arm in arm in the street, just like two equals, as, certainly, then I thought we were."

"Oh, I should have trembled like a leaf if I had been you!"

"Well, I did not mind it at all, he smiled so encouragingly; and, after kindly welcoming Madame Georges, he held out his hand to Germain, and then said, smilingly, to me, 'Well, neighbour, and how are "Papa Cretu"

and "Ramonette?"' (Those were the names I called my birds by. Was it not kind of him to recollect them?)

"'I feel quite sure,' added he, 'that yourself and Germain can sing as merry songs as your birds.' 'Yes, indeed, my lord,' replied I (Madame Georges had taught me as we came along how I was to address the prince), 'we are as happy as it is possible to be, and our happiness is the greater because we owe it to you.'

"'Nay, nay, my good child,' said he, 'you may thank your own excellent qualities and that of Germain for the felicity you enjoy,' etc. I need not go on with that part of the story, Louise, because it would oblige me to repeat all the charming praises I received; and, certainly, I cannot recollect ever doing more than my strict duty, though the prince was pleased to think differently.

"Well, we all came away more sorrowful than we went, for we found it was to be our farewell visit to our benefactor, he being about to return to Germany. Whether or not he has gone I cannot tell you, but, absent or present, our most grateful remembrance and respectful esteem will ever attend him.

"I forgot to tell you that a dear, good girl I knew when we were both in prison together had been living at the farm with Madame Georges; it seems my young friend had, fortunately, found a friend in M. Rodolph, who had placed her there. But Madame Georges particularly cautioned me not to say a word on the subject to the prince, who had some reason for desiring it should not be talked about,--no doubt because he could not bear his benevolent deeds should be known. However, I learnt one thing that gave me extreme pleasure, that my sweet Goualeuse had found her parents, and that they had taken her a great, great way from Paris; I could not help feeling grieved, too, that I had not been able to wish her good-bye before she went.

"But forgive me, dear Louise, for being so selfish as to keep talking to you of every one's happiness when you have so much reason to be sorrowful yourself."

"Had my child but been spared to me," said poor Louise, sadly, "it would have been some consolation to me; for how can I ever hope to find any honest man who would make me his wife, although I have got money enough to tempt any one."

"For my part, Louise, I feel quite sure that one of these days I shall see you happily married to a good and worthy partner, who will pity you for your past troubles, and love and esteem you for the patience with which you endured them."

"Ah, Madame Germain, you only say so to try and comfort me; but whether you really believe what you say or no, I gratefully feel and thank you for your kindness. But who are these? I declare, M. and Madame Pipelet!

How very gay he looks; so different from the sad, dejected appearance he always wore, while M. Cabrion was tormenting him as he did!"

Louise was right. Pipelet advanced in high spirits, and as though treading on air; on his head he wore the well-known bell-crowned hat, a superb gra.s.s-green coat adorned his person, while a white cravat, with embroidered ends, was folded around his throat, in such a manner as to permit the display of an enormous collar, reaching nearly up to his eyes, and quite concealing his cheeks. A large, loose waistcoat, of bright buff, with broad maroon-coloured stripes, black trousers, somewhat short for the wearer, snowy white stockings, and highly polished shoes completed his equipment.

Anastasie displayed a robe of violet-coloured merino, tastefully contrasted with a dark blue shawl. She proudly exhibited her freshly curled Brutus wig to the gaze of all she met, while her cap was slung on her arm by its bright green strings, after the manner of a reticule.

The physiognomy of Alfred--ordinarily so grave, thoughtful, and dejected--was now mirthful, jocund, and hilarious. The moment he caught a glimpse of Rigolette and Louise, he ran towards them, exclaiming in his deep, sonorous voice, "Delivered! Gone!"

"How unusually joyful you seem, M. Pipelet," said Rigolette. "Do pray tell us what has occasioned such a change in your appearance!"

"Gone! I tell you, mademoiselle,--or, rather, madame, as I may, do, and ought to say, now that, like my Anastasie, you are tied up for life."

"You are very polite, M. Pipelet; but please to tell me who has gone?"

"Cabrion!" responded M. Pipelet, inspiring and respiring the air with a look of indescribable delight, as though relieved of an enormous weight; "he has quitted France for ever--for a perpetuity! At length he has departed, and I am myself again."

"Are you quite sure he has gone?"

"I saw him with my eyes ascend the diligence, en route for Strasburg with all his luggage and baggage; that is to say, a hat-case, a maul-stick, and a box of colours."

"What is my old dear chattering about?" cried Anastasie, as she came puffing and panting to the spot where the little group were a.s.sembled; "I'll be bound he was giving you the history of Cabrion's going off--I'm sure he has talked of nothing else all the way we came."