Part 8 (1/2)
”Oh! you mustn't be so particular as that! If you should see the bread now, why that's different! They often have the dough in other places than in their hands! But it cooks all the same! And the wine! Bless my soul! An uncle of mine is a wine dresser, and he has boils on his rump, but that don't prevent him from getting into the vats as naked as G.o.d made him, and his wine is good, too.”
”You can say whatever you please, Goton, I don't see wine made nor bread either; but I did see the potatoes grated on the mistress's hands, and she don't wash them every day; and I say that a cake made with them wouldn't take my fancy at all.”
Edouard knew enough; he entered the room abruptly; the two servants were struck dumb, and allowed him to go on to the kitchen, where he found Master Bonneau thickening his souffle with mola.s.ses.
Our young man gave the portable oven a kick and sent the entremets into the garden for the pigeons to eat. The proprietor stared at him with an air of dismay.
”What is the matter with monsieur? Why is he so angry?”
”Ah! you miserable pothouse keeper! You make souffle of potatoes that have been put on your wife's burned hands!”
”What do you mean, monsieur?”
”You understand me perfectly; you deserve to have me give you a thras.h.i.+ng.”
”Monsieur, I haven't an idea----”
”We are going now, but I shall return to this neighborhood; and I shall remember Master Bonneau, pupil of the Boisseau Fleuri, who supplies wedding and other parties at the Epee Couronnee.”
With that, Edouard left his host and rejoined the ladies, who were prepared to leave the dining-room.
”Let us go, mesdames,” said Edouard, ”let us leave this house at once!
and consider yourselves fortunate that you did not eat the souffle.”
”Why, what was the matter with it?”
”I will tell you about it later; the most important thing now is to leave the house of this infernal poisoner.”
Edouard took Adeline's hand, Madame Germeuil followed them, and they were about to leave the inn, when the proprietor ran after them and stopped them.
”One moment, mesdames and monsieur,” said Master Bonneau, pus.h.i.+ng his cotton cap to the back of his head, ”one moment, if you please; it seems to me that before leaving a restaurant you ought to pay for your dinner.”
”Our dinner! Parbleu! monsieur le traiteur, you will be decidedly clever if you prove to us that we have dined!”
”I served all that you ordered, monsieur; if you didn't eat it, that's none of my business!”
”You are laughing at us, Monsieur Bonneau, when you say that you served all that we ordered; we ordered soft boiled eggs, you gave them to us hard; we ordered cutlets, you served us a rabbit stew with a cup-and-ball in it; for wine you gave us vinegar, lamp oil to dress the salad, a fowl which I would defy an Englishman to carve, and a souffle made of--Ah! take my advice, monsieur le traiteur, and don't be ugly, or I will have you punished for a dangerous man, and have your restaurant closed.”
”My restaurant!” said Bonneau, bursting with rage; ”indeed! we will see about that! Pay me at once the amount of this bill, forty francs and fifteen centimes, or I will take you before the mayor.”
Edouard's only reply was to take the bill and throw it into the wine-dealer's face. Thereupon he made a terrible uproar and the whole village flocked to the spot.
”These folks from Paris refuse to pay for their dinner,” said the rabble, always ready to take sides against people from the city; ”they come in a cabriolet, and they haven't got a sou in their pockets!”
Our young bride and groom laughed at what they heard and made ready to go before the mayor. Mamma Germeuil followed them into the cabriolet; all the peasants surrounded Master Bonneau, who marched at their head, with Fanfan beside him, carrying the famous fowl on a platter, because Edouard had insisted that it should be submitted to the examination of experts. The procession pa.s.sed through the village thus, and on its way to the mayor's office, was momentarily increased by the curious folk of the village, to whom that event was a piece of good fortune.
At last they reached the mayor's house and requested to speak with him.
”He hasn't time to listen to you now,” said the servant; ”he is just going to sit down to dinner.”