Volume I Part 9 (1/2)
”Poor devil!” exclaimed Brissole, shrugging his shoulders; then, turning abruptly towards the other, he said, ”And what is thy luck? for, so far as externals go, thou seemest to have done better.”
”Ay, Jerome,” chimed in Chopard, ”tell us, how hast thou fared?--thou wert ever a fortunate fellow.”
”Pretty well,” said he, laughing. ”I've just come from St.
Cloud--they've made me King of Westphalia!”
”The devil they have!” exclaimed Chopard; ”and dost know, _par hazard_, where thy kingdom lies on the map?”
”Why should he torment himself about that?” said Brissole. ”It's enough to know they have capital hams there.”
”What if we sup together,” said Jerome, ”and taste one? I am most anxious to baptize my new Royalty in a gla.s.s of wine. Here we are in the Rue Taibout--this is Villaret's. Come in, gentlemen--I'm the host. Make your minds easy about the future: you, Brissole, I appoint to the office of my Private Secretary. Chopard, you shall be _Maitre de Chapelle_.”
”Agreed,” cried the others gaily; and with a hearty shake of hands was the contract ratified.
Supper was quickly prepared, and, in its splendour and profusion, p.r.o.nounced, by both the guests, worthy of a king. Villaret could do these things handsomely, and as he was told expense was of no consequence, the entertainment was really magnificent. Nor was the spirit of the guests inferior to the feast. They were brilliant in wit, and overflowing in candour; concealing nothing of their past lives that would amuse or interest, each vied with the other in good stories and ludicrous adventures--all their bygone vicissitudes so pleasantly contrasting with the brilliant future they now saw opening before them.
They drank long life and reign to the King of Westphalia in b.u.mpers of foaming champagne.
The pleasant hours flew rapidly past--bright visions of the time to come lending their charm to the happiness, and making their enjoyment seem but the forerunner of many days and nights of festive delight. At last came day-break, and, even by the flickering of reason left, they saw it was time to separate.
”Bring the bill,” said Jerome to the exhausted-looking waiter, who speedily appeared with a small slip of paper ominously marked ”eight hundred francs.”
”_Diable!_” exclaimed Jerome; ”that is smart, and I have no money about me. Come, Brissole, this falls among your duties--pay the fellow.”
”_Parbleu_, then--it comes somewhat too soon. I am not yet installed, and have not got the key of our treasury.”
”No matter--pay it out of thine own funds.”
”But I have none--save this;” and he produced two francs, and some sous in copper.
”Well, then, Chopard must do it.”
”I have not as much as himself,” said Chopard.
”Send the landlord here,” said Jerome; but indeed the command was unnecessary, as that functionary had been an anxious listener at the door to the very singular debate.
”We have forgotten our purses, Villaret,” said Jerome, in the easy tone his last ten hours of royalty suggested; ”but we will send your money when we reach home.”
”I have no doubt of it, gentlemen,” said the host, obsequiously; ”but it would please me still better to receive it now--particularly as I have not the honour of knowing the distinguished company.”
”The distinguished company is perfectly satisfied to know you: the _cuisine_ was excellent,” hiccupped Brissole.
”And the wine unexceptionable.”
”The champagne might have been a little more _frappe_,” said Brissole; ”the only improvement I could suggest.”
”Perhaps there was a _nuance_, only a _nuance_, too much citron in the _rognons a la broche_, but the _filets de sole_ were perfect.”
”If I had the happiness of knowing '_Messieurs_,'” said Villaret, ”I should hope, that at another time I might be more fortunate in pleasing them.”