Part 41 (1/2)

As soon as this lucky thought occurred to him, he hastened to put it into execution, hired a piano, and inquired for a pianist. The pianist, it will be remembered, was our friend Schaunard. The Englishman recounted to him his sufferings from the parrot, and what he had already done to come to terms with the actress.

”But milord,” said Schaunard, ”there is a sure way to rid yourself of this creature--parsley. The chemists are unanimous in declaring that this culinary plant is prussic acid to such birds. Chop up a little parsley, and shake it out of the window on Coco's cage, and the creature will die as certainly as if Pope Alexander VI had invited it to dinner.”

”I thought of that myself,” said the Englishman, ”but the beast is taken good care of. The piano is surer.”

Schaunard looked at the other without catching his meaning at once.

”See here,” resumed the Englishman, ”the actress and her animal always sleep till twelve. Follow my reasoning--”

”Go on. I am at the heels of it.”

”I intend to disturb their sleep. The law of the country authorizes me to make music from morning to night. Do you understand?”

”But that will not be so disagreeable to her, if she hears me play the piano all day--for nothing, too. I am a first-rate hand, if I only had a lung gone--.”

”Exactly, but I don't want you to make good music. You must only strike on your instrument thus,” trying a scale, ”and always the same thing without pity, only one scale. I understand medicine a little; that drives people mad. They will both go mad; that is what I look for. Come, Mr. Musician, to work at once. You shall be well paid.”

”And so,” said Schaunard, who had recounted the above details to his friends, ”this is what I have been doing for the last fortnight. One scale continually from seven in the morning till dark. It is not exactly serious art. But then the Englishman pays me two hundred francs a month for my noise; it would be cutting one's throat to refuse such a windfall. I accepted, and in two or three days I take my first month's money.”

It was after those mutual confidences that the three friends agreed amongst themselves to profit by the general accession of wealth to give their mistresses the spring outfit that the coquetry of each of them had been wis.h.i.+ng for so long. It was further agreed that whoever pocketed his money first should wait for the others, so that the purchases should be made at the same time, and that Mademoiselle Mimi, Musette, and Phemie should enjoy the pleasure of casting their old skins, as Schaunard put it, together.

Well, two or three days after this council Rodolphe came in first; his dental poem had been paid for; it weighed in eighty francs. The next day Marcel drew from Medicis the price of eighteen corporal's likenesses, at six francs each.

Marcel and Rodolphe had all the difficulty in the world to hide their good fortune.

”It seems to me that I sweat gold,” said the poet.

”It is the same with me,” said Marcel. ”If Schaunard delays much longer, it would be impossible for me to continue to play the part of the anonymous Croesus.”

But the very next morning saw Schaunard arrive, splendidly attired in a bright yellow nankeen jacket.

”Good heavens!” exclaimed Phemie, dazzled on seeing her lover so elegantly got up, ”where did you find that jacket?”

”I found it amongst my papers,” replied the musician, making a sign to his two friends to follow him. ”I have drawn the coin,” said he, when they were alone. ”Behold it,” and he displayed a handful of gold.

”Well,” exclaimed Marcel, ”forward, let us sack the shops. How happy Musette will be.”

”How pleased Mimi will be,” added Rodolphe. ”Come, are you coming Schaunard?”

”Allow me to reflect,” replied the musician. ”In decking out these ladies with the thousand caprices of fas.h.i.+on, we shall perhaps be guilty of a mistake. Think on it. Are you not afraid that when they resemble the engravings in 'The Scarf of Iris,' these splendors will exercise a deplorable influence upon their characters, and does it suit young fellows like us to behave towards women as if we were aged and wrinkled dotards? It is not that I hesitate about sacrificing fifteen or eighteen francs to dress Phemie; but I tremble. When she has a new bonnet she will not even recognize me, perhaps. She looks so well with only a flower in her hair. What do you think about it, philosopher?” broke off Schaunard, addressing Colline, who had come in within the last few minutes.

”Ingrat.i.tude is the offspring of kindness,” observed the philosopher.

”On the other hand,” continued Schaunard, ”when your mistresses are well dressed, what sort of figure will you cut beside them in your dilapidated costumes? You will look like their waiting maids. I do not speak for myself,” he broke off, drawing himself up in his nankeen jacket, ”for thank heaven, I could go anywhere now.”

However, despite the spirit of opposition shown by Schaunard, it was once more agreed that the next day all the shops of the neighborhood should be ransacked to the advantage of the ladies.

And, indeed, the next day, at the very moment that we have seen, at the beginning of this chapter, Mademoiselle Mimi wakes up very much astonished at Rodolphe's absence, the poet and his two friends were ascending the stairs, accompanied by a shopman from the Deux Magots and a milliner with specimens. Schaunard, who had bought the famous hunting horn, marched before them playing the overture to ”The Caravan.”