Part 76 (1/2)
The little bald man almost ran away. Cherami shrugged his shoulders, saying to himself:
”Old guinea-hen! I might have guessed that the simple word _duel_ would frighten him! He won't be my second. Sapristi! I haven't my cue!”
Cherami was almost at the end of Boulevard Beaumarchais, when he heard a voice exclaim:
”Yes, yes, it's him; there he is--the man who keeps us waiting for dinner, and never comes! G.o.d bless my soul! it takes you a long time to smoke your cigar.”
At the sound of those familiar accents, Beau Arthur turned, and saw Madame Capucine, attended as always by her two brats; the elder still wearing his Henri IV hat, with the feathers falling over his eyes; the younger eating gingerbread, and finding a way to stuff his fingers into his nose at the same time.
”Ah! upon my word, it's the lovely Madame Capucine,” said Cherami, joining the group.
The stout woman, glancing at her debtor's fas.h.i.+onable attire, smiled amiably, as she rejoined:
”I ought not to speak to you again, by good rights! That was a very pretty trick you played us at Pa.s.sy: to leave us on the pretext of smoking a cigar! Oh! monsieur would only be gone a few minutes; and it was eleven months ago!”
”I was blameworthy, I know it; I treated you badly! But if you knew what events were in store for me that day in the Bois de Boulogne!”
”My aunt bears you a grudge! Oh! she's furious with you.”
”I will make my peace with the venerable Madame Duponceau. And the first time that I go to the Bois de Boulogne----”
”No, no; you needn't go to the Bois de Boulogne for that. My aunt isn't at Pa.s.sy now; she didn't like it there. It's a place where you have to dress too much; it's enough to ruin you.”
”Ah! so the dear aunt has changed her villa once more? She is just a little bit fickle. And whither has she transported her sheep--that is to say, her rural Penates?”
”To Saint-Mande. You see, we're just going to take the omnibus to go there.”
”What! you are going to your aunt's? How funny! It seems to be written that I shall always meet you, lovely creature, when you are on your way to your aunt's. But this isn't Sat.u.r.day?”
”No; but to-morrow is my aunt's birthday, Saint elisabeth's day; and it's our duty to go to wish her many happy returns.”
”Ah! yes, I understand; Madame Duponceau's name is elisabeth.”
”Do you want to make your peace with her? Here's an excellent chance.
Come with us; you can congratulate my aunt, and dine at Saint-Mande. My husband is coming to join us there at five o'clock.”
Cherami reflected for some minutes. He remembered that Capucine was a corporal in the National Guard, and thought that he might perhaps consent to act as his second. That hope decided him; he smiled at his stout friend, and replied:
”You do whatever you please with me. I had important business in Paris; but your husband can help me about it, I think. I am at your service. Ho for Saint-Mande!”
”Good! you are very obliging. If you go on as you have begun, I will forgive you, too.”
These words were accompanied by a languis.h.i.+ng glance of immeasurable length. It made Cherami shudder.
”I am terribly afraid,” he thought, ”that she would like me to take up Ballot's duties.”
Madame Capucine called Jacqueline. An old servant, all twisted and bent, came limping along, with an enormous basket on her arm.
”Tudieu!” thought Cherami; ”here's a soubrette who will hardly divert the attention of the haberdasher's young clerk.”