Part 17 (2/2)
Every balcony, decorated with red and rose, was filled with spectators laughing at the antics of the armoured, quaintly-dressed throng; the timorous, taking refuge behind closed windows, peered curiously out upon the wild conflict, while some, more brave than others, ventured out into the thick of the fray with no further protection than the black velvet half-mask. Woe betide these, however, when detected. Wire masks were the only safeguard from the showers of bullets which everywhere were projected from the small tin scoops.
Joining in the Corso were many carriages decked out to correspond with their occupants' costumes, many in the carnival colours, one in pure white, another in a mauve, and a third, belonging presumably to a political enthusiast, in the Russian colours, orange and black.
Everywhere were scenes of wild and reckless gaiety. In the side streets, in the open squares, in the cafes, on every side confetti was thrown. The garcons de cafe, compelled to stand amid the continuous cross-fire that swept across the streets, had all a.s.sumed masks, and the roads and pavements soon became an inch deep in confetti trodden to dust.
All along the line of the procession and in the thick of the fight bags of ammunition were offered by men, women or boys, who stood beside stalls or, mingling with the crowd, cried ”_Bonbon; Bonbon_!” As Zertho and Liane walked together, pelting vigorously at a carriage containing three of their friends, an urchin came up to them crying, ”_Bonbon_!”
whereupon Liane, with a mischievous laugh, threw a handful of confetti straight at the crier, much to the urchin's discouragement.
”Come, let us follow the procession,” Zertho suggested, and across the Place Ma.s.sena they accompanied the corso, and down the gay streets until they entered the Place de la Prefecture, where the fun was at its height. The scene here presented was exceedingly picturesque. The band, which was really a band, and not merely a medley of ear-splitting, discordant noise which too frequently mars the Carnival, was the centre of attraction around which the maskers danced with wild abandon, joining hands and screaming with laughter. Liane, infected by the mad gaiety and as reckless as the rest, her domino whitened by the showers of confetti rained every moment upon it, plunged into the crowd of dancers and, hand-in-hand with Zertho, whirled round, laughing gleefully. The dancers made a human kaleidoscope of colour, framed by the amphitheatre-like tribunes, which were likewise filled with maskers, and made a setting as bright, and but one degree less animated, than the rollicking, ever-moving foreground.
From minute to minute the animation increased. Every street was aglow with colour, and the melee was general. Those seated in the tribunes made furious attacks upon those on foot, the latter retaliating with shower upon shower of pellets, until the battle became fierce in every quarter. Four occupants of a victoria, attired alike in pale blue dominoes, opened a vigorous fire upon Liane and Zertho as they pa.s.sed, and received in return many scoopfuls of well-aimed confetti. But the pair were decidedly getting the worst of it, when suddenly a lithe little man in clown's dress of cheap l.u.s.trine joined Liane in the defence, and next instant received a handful of confetti full in his face. For an instant he felt in his pouch, but found his ammunition had given out. Then espying a stall a few yards away he rushed across with sudden impulse, flung down a couple of francs, caught up four large paper bags each containing several pounds of confetti, and flung them one after another at Liane's a.s.sailants. They were aimed with a sure hand, and as each struck the head or shoulders of one or other of the unfortunate occupants, the thin paper broke, completely smothering them with its contents. Yells of uproarious laughter arose at their discomfiture, and the coachman hastened his horses' speed.
Then turning to Liane, the man, evidently an honest, happy-hearted Nicois from his Italian accent, bowed gracefully, and with a smile said,--”Mademoiselle, I believe we have taught them a lesson.” Before she could thank him he was lost in the turbulent, laughing crowd.
And as Zertho pa.s.sed gaily along at Liane's side, he sang softly to himself the refrain of ”L'Amoureuse,”--the slightly risky parody, popular at that moment,--
”Voila l'amoureuse, A la demarch' voluptueuse, Qui se pavan' soir et matin, Avec des airs de p't.i.t trottin; Voila l'amoureuse, A la demarch' voluptueuse, Elle est joli' sacre matin!
Joli' comme un pet.i.t trottin!”
Gradually they fought their way back to the Place Ma.s.sena, and found it a scene of brilliant colour, but the fight had now become so general that the very heavens seemed obscured by the confetti, which, on striking, crumbled into dense clouds of fine, white dust. The fanfares of the Cha.s.seurs Alpins were sounding, the great effigy of the King was slowly moving across towards the leafy public garden, and the colossal figure of an ingenue was sailing along with the crowd with folded arms, perfectly pleased with herself and the Carnival world in general.
Everyone here wore the wire mask and domino, even the vendors of confetti being compelled to a.s.sume grilles to protect their sun-tanned faces from their own wares.
The Carnival contagion had now spread to even the puppets and musicians themselves; for these left their lofty perches on the cars where they had been observed by all during the processions, and descending to earth, whirled among that motley crowd of dancers and of forms gigantic, gay and grotesque.
Although conflict and retaliation were the order of the day, and disorder the spirit supreme, to the credit of Nice and her crowds be it said that on such a day, when so many liberties were possible, were so few taken. The Mayor had caused a precautionary notice to be posted up, prohibiting any confetti being thrown at the police, gendarmes, or musicians, but even the gendarmes, usually an awe-inspiring, spick and span body, when threatened in fun, would reply, ”Fire away, your bullets don't hurt,” and laughing defiance, would receive volley upon volley of the dusty pellets upon their dark uniforms without flinching, and laugh back defiantly.
Clowns, punchinelli, pierrots, furies, devils and ladies in dominoes fought with one another till every street in the neighbourhood of the Avenue de la Gare was swept from end to end by a hail of confetti, and Zertho and Liane trudged on through the thick dust into which it was every moment being trodden. Long ”serpentines” of coloured paper, flung now and then, wrapped themselves about the lamp-posts and hung from windows and from the tall eucalypti, while from some of the houses the more enterprising showered upon the crowd thousands of small, advertising hand-bills. Those who, growing weary of the fight as the sun declined, sought shelter in the cafes, were quickly disillusioned, for from time to time disconcerting showers of pellets would sweep in at the open door, often falling into the bocks, mazagrans, and sirops, so that those who had had previous experience of Carnival ways sat with their wire vizors still down and their hands carefully covering their gla.s.ses.
On Confetti Day Carnival penetrates everywhere. In the streets, in the shops, in the churches, in the houses, the small pellets seem to enter by unknown means. They find their way down one's neck into one's boots, while ladies get their hats and hair filled with them and drop them wherever they tread. Confetti Day, apart from its interest and amus.e.m.e.nt as a brilliant spectacle, is the more remarkable because so many hundreds of human beings, p.r.o.ne to ”envy, hatred, malice and all uncharitableness,” begin, continue and end the fun, in such glorious good humour. Everywhere the battle raged fiercely, yet it was all in boisterous mirth, and laughter loud and sincere rang out alike from victor and from vanquished. Mirth ran riot, and disorder was everywhere, but spite was never shown.
Time after time, a storm of confetti swept about Liane and her escort, as together they pa.s.sed along the colonnade, pelting and being pelted by every masker they met, until the dust came into her face through the grille, and the hood and tr.i.m.m.i.n.g of her domino was full of grey pellets.
”You are tired and hot,” Zertho exclaimed at last. ”This dust makes one thirsty. Let us try and get to the Cafe de la Victoire.”
To accomplish this, they were compelled to cross the broad place through the very thickest of the fray. Nevertheless, undaunted, with scoops ever in the sacks slung at their sides, they pressed forward, half-choked by the cross-fire of confetti through which they were pa.s.sing. Liane's conical felt hat was dinted and almost white, and her domino sadly soiled and tumbled, still with cheeks aglow by the exciting conflict, she went on, taking her own part valiantly. The wire masks did not completely disguise their wearers. Numbers of men and women she met she recognised, and where the recognition was mutual, the battle raged long and furiously, accompanied by screams of uproarious laughter.
At last they managed to reach the opposite side of the Place. The tables in the colonnade before the popular cafe were crowded with maskers who were endeavouring to get rid of the dust from their throats, notwithstanding the showers of pellets which continually swept upon them. The sun was sinking in a blaze of gold behind Antibes, the clock over the Casino marked a quarter to five; in fifteen minutes the cannon of the chateau would boom forth the signal for hostilities to cease, the musicians and puppets would mount upon the cars and move away, the maskers would remove their wire protectors, and order would reign once more.
Zertho and Liane had secured a table upon the pavement near the door, the interior of the cafe being suffocatingly crowded, and sipping their wine, were laughing over the desperate tussle of the afternoon, now and then retaliating when any pa.s.ser-by directly a.s.sailed them. Suddenly a woman, looking tall in a domino of dark rose and wearing a half-mask of black velvet which completely disguised her features, flung, in pa.s.sing, a large handful of confetti which struck Liane full upon the mask.
In an instant she raised her scoop, and with a gleeful laugh, sent a heavy shower into her unknown opponent's face. Like many other women, her a.s.sailant had apparently become separated from her escort in the fierce fighting, and the fact that she preferred a velvet mask to one of wire showed her to be not a little courageous. But Liane's well-directed confetti must have struck her sharply upon the chin, which remained uncovered, for it caused her to wince.
She halted, and standing in full view of the pair as if surveying them deliberately, next second directed another scoopful at them. Both Zertho and Liane, divining her intention, raised their hands to cover their masks, and as they did so the hail of pellets descended, many of them falling into their gla.s.ses.
”There,” cried Liane, laughing gaily. ”It's really too bad, she's spoilt our wine.”
In a moment, however, Zertho, who had been preparing for this second onslaught, flung scoopful after scoopful at the intrepid woman, and several of those sitting at the tables around at once joined in repelling the fair masker's attack. Yet, nothing daunted, although smothered in confetti from a dozen different hands, she continued the conflict with the pair she had at first attacked, until Liane, in her eagerness to annihilate this woman who had so suddenly opened such a persistent and vigorous fire upon them, turned suddenly with her tin scoop filled to overflowing. With a loud laugh she flung it, but by accident the scoop itself slipped from her fingers, and struck the masker sharply upon the shoulder.
In an instant Liane, with a cry of regret, rose from her seat and rushed out into the roadway to apologise, but the unknown woman with a stiff bow, her dark eyes flas.h.i.+ng angrily through the holes in her mask, turned away and walked quickly along the Rue Ma.s.sena. Liane stooped, s.n.a.t.c.hed up her scoop, and returned to where Zertho sat heartily laughing, those sitting around joining in a chorus of hilarity at the incident.
<script>