Volume II Part 76 (1/2)
”I don't know, but you seem to have something the matter with you.”
”I?”
”Yes.”
”You are a fool. I am hungry.”
”Hungry! it is possible, but I should say that you wish to appear lively, but at the bottom there is something that bites and pinches you--conscience, as they say; and to trouble you it must bite hard, for you are no prude.”
”I tell you, you are crazy, Micou,” said Nicholas, shuddering in spite of himself.
”One would say that you tremble.”
”My arm pains me.”
”Then don't forget my recipe: it will cure you.”
”Thank you, Father Micou. Good-bye,” said Nicholas, taking his departure.
The receiver, after having concealed the copper, busied himself in collecting the different articles for Nicholas, when a new personage entered the shop. He was a man of about fifty, with a knowing face, heavy gray whiskers, and gold spectacles; he was dressed with some care; the large sleeves of his brown paletot, with velvet cuffs, displayed his straw-colored gloves; his boots undoubtedly the evening previous had been brilliantly polished.
Such was M. Badinot, the uncle of Madame de Saint Ildefonso, whose social position was the pride and security of Micou the Fence.
Badinot, formerly a lawyer, but struck off the rolls, and now a chevalier d'industrie, and agent of equivocal affairs, served as a spy for the Baron de Graun (Rudolph's friend), and gave the diplomatist a great deal of information concerning several characters of this narration.
”Madame Charles has just given you a letter?” said Badinot to the receiver.
”Yes, sir; my nephew will soon return; in a moment he will be off again.”
”No, give me the letter; I have changed my mind; I will go myself to the Viscount de Saint Remy,” said Badinot, emphasizing purposely the aristocratic address.
”Here is the letter, sir; have you no other commission?”
”No, friend Micou,” said Badinot, with a patronizing air; ”but I have reproaches to make to you.”
”To me, sir?”
”Very grave reproaches.”
”How, sir?”
”Certainly Madame de Saint Ildefonso pays very dear for your first floor. My niece is one of those lodgers to whom one should pay the greatest respect; she came with confidence to this house, disliking the noise of the large streets; she hoped she would be here as in the country.”
”And she is; just like a village. You ought to find it so, sir, who live in the country--it is just like a real village here.”
”A village? Very fine--always the most infernal noise.”
”Yet it is impossible to find a more quiet house. Over madame, there is the leader of the orchestra of the Cafe des Aveugles and a traveling clerk; over them another clerk; over him again, there is--”