I knew by the sound of her voice that she was ready to weep. Had I spoken harshly to her? She was going away with a heavy heart, but I took her hand and detained her. She heaved a deep sigh. Poor Nicette! could it be for me? If so, I pitied her. In truth, I did not deserve to be loved by a sensitive, faithful heart; and yet, I wanted women to adore me and to be faithful to me: reconcile the two, if you can.
"Come, my dear Nicette, tell me all you have done since last night?"
"Won"t it bore you, monsieur?"
"No, of course not; don"t you know that I am interested in everything that concerns you?"
"Oh, monsieur! if you--but here goes: in the first place, I went home to my mother"s, because, after all, she is my mother, and, although she turned me out of doors, I still owe her respect."
"That is true; you did very well. How did Madame Jerome receive you?"
"Very badly, monsieur! oh! very badly! She didn"t so much as ask me where I"d pa.s.sed the night. But she proposed to me again to marry Beauvisage, and said that then she"d forgive what she called my _caravanes_.[A] Has there been any _caravanes_ between you and me, monsieur?"
[A] In French slang, "love adventures."
"Certainly not; and then?"
"Oh! I refused; because, when it comes to marriage, I"m obstinate, too.
Then she beat me again, and that time you wasn"t there to stop her."
I could not restrain a smile at the artless way in which Nicette reminded me of the blow I had received in her behalf; but I was distressed by Madame Jerome"s hard-heartedness: to think of turning her daughter out of doors, beating her, and abandoning her, utterly without resource, at the age when the simplest and often the only means of support are to be found in prost.i.tution! Ah! there are mothers unworthy of the name!
"Well, Nicette?"
"Well, monsieur, I packed up my clothes and left the house, without seeing my sister, who didn"t dare to show her face before me. I says to myself: "I mustn"t whine about it; I haven"t done anything to be sorry for. I refused the pork man, that"s true; but when it"s a matter of a girl"s whole life, surely she has a right to do as she pleases."--So I went off with my little bundle. I don"t know how it happened, but after walking a while I found myself in your street. I looked round for a booth, and found one over yonder, close by, on Rue Saint-Honore, near the boulevard. I bought a bed and a chair; that"s all I need. To-morrow, I"ll get a table for my bouquets; as to the flowers, I know where to get them. I"ll set up a stand on the corner of the street, on the boulevard; and when you want a bouquet, monsieur, I shall be there, close by your house; and it will be easy enough for you to let me know. Have I done well, monsieur?"
Nicette had finished speaking, but I still listened. I was touched by her attachment. She had wanted to be near me, I could see that; and there was something so simple and ingenuous in the way she told me about it, that it seemed that in acting thus she had simply done her duty.
"You don"t say anything, monsieur; is it because you"re angry at my leaving my old quarter to come--to this one? If that"s it, why, I"ll look for another room to-morrow; I"ll go far away, ever so far, and you"ll never find me in your path again!"
"What do you say? I, angry because you are near me? It"s very wrong of you to say that, Nicette! I thought that I had shown you how deep an interest I take in you."
"Oh! I beg your pardon, Monsieur Dorsan, I beg your pardon; perhaps I ought to have asked your permission--for you are my patron."
"Hush! what a child you are! I am very glad that you live in this quarter. I shall see you often, and always with pleasure."
"Oh! monsieur, and so shall I. But I won"t take the liberty again to wait for you at your door. I only did it to-day because I wanted to tell you what I"d done, and to let you know where I am now."
"Don"t apologize, my dear girl; I am so glad to see you! Ah! Nicette, what a cruel, yet delicious, night I pa.s.sed so near you! I shall never forget it as long as I live. I know that I shouldn"t have so much courage another time."
"Let"s not say anything more about that, Monsieur Dorsan. I must go home, for it"s very late, and I"m keeping you from your sleep again. To be sure, this is the last time it will happen."
"Dear Nicette, your alluring charms, your graces, and your delightful frankness, will always be with me in that room, where I should be glad to see you again."
"Oh! don"t say that, I beg of you, Monsieur Dorsan. I"m too far away from you--a poor flower girl!"
"Ah! Nicette; if you chose----"
"Adieu, Monsieur Dorsan! adieu!"
She said _adieu_, but she did not go. I held one of her hands; she repelled me and drew me toward her at the same time. My eyes were fixed upon hers; we said nothing; but if my porte cochere had been open, I believe that Nicette would have gone with me again. A sudden outcry aroused us from that pleasant situation. A man ran along the street, shouting _thief_! Nicette withdrew her hand, bade me a very affectionate good-night, and fled. I tried to detain her, but she was already far away.
I knocked at my door and was just about to enter, when the man whom I had seen running toward us, all alone, and whom I had taken for a drunken man, rushed through the porte cochere and fell headlong in the courtyard, crying:
"Safe at last!"
I recognized Raymond"s voice; I was curious to learn the end of his adventures. The concierge, hearing the uproar, arrived on the scene with a light, and we saw Raymond, his trousers torn from waistband to knee, lying at full length in the courtyard, gasping with fatigue, and trying to recover his breath.
"Mon Dieu!" cried Madame Dupont; "what has happened to you, Monsieur Raymond? a pretty mess you"re in!"
"What! is it you?" said I, in my turn; "why did you leave Tivoli without waiting for my signal?"
"Oh, yes! I fancy I should have had to wait a long while for your signal!"
"You"re too impatient."
"I had been crouching in that corner for an hour, when I saw some men making the rounds of the garden. Faith! that gave me a fright, and I determined to scale the wall. But I was in such a hurry that I got caught on some broken gla.s.s; I tore my trousers and cut the base of my spine. On Rue du Mont-Blanc, I was insulted by some drunken men; indeed, I think they meant to rob me; but I ran off, shouting for help, and here I am in port, G.o.d be praised! But I shall remember Tivoli!"
"You must bathe your back in warm water, monsieur," said Madame Dupont.
"Yes, I"ll do that in the morning."
"You saved your silhouettes, I hope?" said I.
"I believe I lost some of them when I dropped from the wall."
"The devil! that"s a pity! they"ll testify against you, and it will be easy to recognize that profile of yours. I advise you to wear a false nose and spectacles for a fortnight or so."
My neighbor, who knew very well that I was making sport of him, took his candle and tramped upstairs without a word to me. When we were on our landing, I nodded to him, with a smile, and entered my lodgings alone, where I slept soundly. Nights follow but do not resemble one another: that is what all women say a fortnight after marriage.
XII
VEXATIONS
My first thought when I woke was of my two young women. I cannot say whether Nicette or Caroline first presented herself to my imagination; I know that I was attracted by both of them. But Nicette was an honest girl and desired to remain so; thus far I had acted honorably with her; I determined not to try to ruin what I had done. I would be her friend, were it only for the sake of experimenting upon a novel sentiment toward a woman.
As to Mademoiselle Caroline, I had formed a different estimate of her: I did not believe her to be a novice; her little innocent air with Monsieur Jules did not impose on me; she was on the lookout for a husband, but she did not love that poor fellow; if she did love him, would she listen with a smile to all the insipid nonsense that I whispered to her? if she loved him, would she dance with other men?
Mademoiselle Caroline was a great coquette, and, in my judgment, decidedly shrewd. And yet, she had treated me cavalierly enough when I followed her on the street; to be sure, she was cross because I had rumpled the finery she had prepared for the following day, which was at that moment much more interesting than a new conquest, since it might be worth a great many to her. But I should soon know what to expect.
At noon I betook myself to the shop that my sorcerer had indicated. He had not deceived me: among a number of saucy faces, I recognized my charming dancer. The young women all lowered their eyes at sight of a young man; but they all scrutinized me furtively. Caroline recognized me; I could tell that by a certain embarra.s.sment, by her evident longing to look at me, and by the a.s.siduity with which she attacked her work, the better to conceal her confusion. It was necessary that I should pretend to have visited the shop for some purpose: I asked for flowers, wreaths, tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs; they were all shown to me, but it was a man who was obliging enough to spread before my eyes all the treasures of the establishment, and the young women did not stir.
That did not meet my desires, but I realized that I could not remain there all day. I bought fifty francs" worth of artificial flowers, for which I paid cash; and I left my address, asking that they might be sent to me during the day, as I was to leave for the country in the morning.
The man promised, and I left the shop. Caroline must have understood me; but would she come? that remained to be seen.
I returned home, informed my concierge that I expected some parcels I had just bought, and that the messenger was to bring them up to my room.