Part 20 (1/2)
In the salon they found the daughters of the minister still bending over their notices, while the father and mother were asleep at their backgammon, and the tall Swede was stirring his seltzer grog with the same disheartened gesture. But the invasion of the Tarasconese Alpinists, warmed by champagne, caused, as may well be supposed, some distraction of mind to the young conventiclers. Never had those charming young persons seen coffee taken with such rollings of the eyes and pantomimic action.
”Sugar, Tartarin?”
”Of course not, commander... You know very well... Since Africa!..”
”True; excuse me... _Te!_ here comes M. Baltet.”
”Sit down there, _que_. Monsieur Baltet.”
”Vive Monsieur Baltet!.. Ha! ha! _fen de brut_.”
Surrounded, captured by all these men whom he had never seen before in his life, _pere_ Baltet smiled with a tranquil air. A robust Savoyard, tall and broad, with a round back and slow walk, a heavy face, close-shaven, enlivened by two shrewd eyes, that were still young, contrasting oddly with his baldness, caused by chills at dawn upon the mountain.
”These gentlemen wish to ascend Mont Blanc?” he said, gauging the Tarasconese Alpinists with a glance both humble and sarcastic. Tartarin was about to reply, but Bompard forestalled him:-- ”Isn't the season too far advanced?” ”Why, no,” replied the former guide. ”Here's a Swedish gentleman who goes up to-morrow, and I am expecting at the end of this week two American gentlemen to make the ascent; and one of them is blind.”
”I know. I met them on the Guggi.” ”Ah! monsieur has been upon the Guggi?” ”Yes, a week ago, in doing the Jungfrau.” Here a quiver among the evangelical conventiclers; all pens stopped, and heads were raised in the direction of Tartarin, who, to the eyes of these English maidens, resolute climbers, expert in all sports, acquired considerable authority. He had gone up the Jungfrau!
”A fine thing!” said _pere_ Baltet, considering the P. C. A. with some astonishment; while Pascalon, intimidated by the ladies and blus.h.i.+ng and stuttering, murmured softly:--
”Ma-a-aster, tell them the... the... thing... creva.s.se.”
The president smiled. ”Child!..” he said: but, all the same, he began the tale of his fall; first with a careless, indifferent air, and then with startled motions, jigglings at the end of the rope over the abyss, hands outstretched and appealing. The young ladies quivered, and devoured him with those cold English eyes, those eyes that open round.
In the silence that followed, rose the voice of Bompard:--
”On Chimborazo we never roped one another to cross creva.s.ses.”
The delegates looked at one another. As a tarasconade that remark surpa.s.sed them all.
”Oh, _that_ Bompard, _pas mouain_...” murmured Pascalon, with ingenuous admiration.
But pere Baltet, taking Chimborazo seriously, protested against the practice of not roping. According to him, no ascension over ice was possible without a rope, a good rope of Manila hemp; then, if one slipped, the others could hold him.
”Unless the rope breaks, Monsieur Baltet,” said Tartarin, remembering the catastrophe on the Matterhorn.
But the landlord, weighing his words, replied:
”The rope did not break on the Matterhorn... the rear guide cut it with a blow of his axe...”
As Tartarin expressed indignation,--
”Beg pardon, monsieur, but the guide had a right to do it... He saw the impossibility of holding back those who had fallen, and he detached himself from them to save his life, that of his son, and of the traveller they were accompanying... Without his action seven persons would have lost their lives instead of four.”
Then a discussion began. Tartarin thought that in letting yourself be roped in file you were bound in honour to live and die together; and growing excited, especially in presence of ladies, he backed his opinion by facts and by persons present: ”Tomorrow, _te!_ to-morrow, in roping myself to Bom-pard, it is not a simple precaution that I shall take, it is an oath before G.o.d and man to be one with my companion and to die sooner than return without him, _coquin de sort!_”
”I accept the oath for myself, as for you, Tar-tarin...” cried Bompard from the other side of the round table.
Exciting moment!
The minister, electrified, rose, came to the hero and inflicted upon him a pump-handle exercise of the hand that was truly English. His wife did likewise, then all the young ladies continued the _shake hands_ with enough vigour to have brought water to the fifth floor of the house. The delegates, I ought to mention, were less enthusiastic.
”Eh, _be!_ as for me,” said Bravida, ”I am of M. Baltet's opinion. In matters of this kind, each man should look to his own skin, _pardi!_ and I understand that cut of the axe perfectly.”