"Willingly, Monsieur Georges. Garcon, the dominos."
"Have you been playing at billiards?" asked M. Georges.
"Yes, two games."
"With success?"
"I won the first, and lost the second through the defect of my eyesight; the game depended on a stroke which would have been easy to an infant,--I missed it."
Here the dominos arrived, and M. Georges began shuffling them; the other turned to Graham and asked politely if he understood the game.
"A little, but not enough to comprehend why it is said to require so much skill."
"It is chiefly an affair of memory with me; but M. Georges, my opponent, has the talent of combination, which I have not."
"Nevertheless," replied M. Georges, gruffly, "you are not easily beaten; it is for you to play first, Monsieur Lebeau." Graham almost started.
Was it possible! This mild, limp-whiskered, flaxen-wigged man Victor de Mauleon, the Don Juan of his time; the last person in the room he should have guessed. Yet, now examining his neighbour with more attentive eye, he wondered at his stupidity in not having recognized at once the ci-devant gentilhomme and beau garcon. It happens frequently that our imagination plays us this trick; we form to ourselves an idea of some one eminent for good or for evil,--a poet, a statesman, a general, a murderer, a swindler, a thief. The man is before us, and our ideas have gone into so different a groove that he does not excite a suspicion; we are told who he is, and immediately detect a thousand things that ought to have proved his ident.i.ty.
Looking thus again with rectified vision at the false Lebeau, Graham observed an elegance and delicacy of feature which might, in youth, have made the countenance very handsome, and rendered it still good-looking, nay, prepossessing. He now noticed, too, the slight Norman accent, its native harshness of breadth subdued into the modulated tones which bespoke the habits of polished society. Above all, as M. Lebeau moved his dominos with one hand, not shielding his pieces with the other (as M. Georges warily did), but allowing it to rest carelessly on the table, he detected the hands of the French aristocrat,--hands that had never done work; never (like those of the English n.o.ble of equal birth) been embrowned or freckled, or roughened or enlarged by early practice in athletic sports; but hands seldom seen save in the higher circles of Parisian life,--partly perhaps of hereditary formation, partly owing their texture to great care begun in early youth, and continued mechanically in after life,--with long taper fingers and polished nails; white and delicate as those of a woman, but not slight, not feeble; nervous and sinewy as those of a practised swordsman.
Graham watched the play, and Lebeau good-naturedly explained to him its complications as it proceeded; though the explanation, diligently attended to by M. Georges, lost Lebeau the game.
The dominos were again shuffled, and during that operation M. Georges said, "By the way, Monsieur Lebeau, you promised to find me a locataire for my second floor; have you succeeded?"
"Not yet. Perhaps you had better advertise in "Les Pet.i.tes Affiches."
You ask too much for the habitues of this neighbourhood,--one hundred francs a month."
"But the lodging is furnished, and well too, and has four rooms. One hundred francs are not much."
A thought flashed upon Graham. "Pardon, Monsieur," he said, "have you an appartement de garcon to let furnished?"
"Yes, Monsieur, a charming one. Are you in search of an apartment?"
"I have some idea of taking one, but only by the month. I am but just arrived at Paris, and I have business which may keep me here a few weeks. I do but require a bedroom and a small cabinet, and the rent must be modest. I am not a milord."
"I am sure we could arrange, Monsieur," said M. Georges, "though I could not well divide my logement. But one hundred francs a month is not much!"
"I fear it is more than I can afford; however, if you will give me your address, I will call and see the rooms,--say the day after to-morrow.
Between this and then, I expect letters which may more clearly decide my movements."
"If the apartments suit you," said M. Lebeau, "you will at least be in the house of a very honest man, which is more than can be said of every one who lets furnished apartments. The house, too, has a concierge, with a handy wife who will arrange your rooms and provide you with coffee--or tea, which you English prefer--if you breakfast at home." Here M.
Georges handed a card to Graham, and asked what hour he would call.
"About twelve, if that hour is convenient," said Graham, rising. "I presume there is a restaurant in the neighbourhood where I could dine reasonably."
"Je crois bien, half-a-dozen. I can recommend to you one where you can dine en prince for thirty sous. And if you are at Paris on business, and want any letters written in private, I can also recommend to you my friend here, M. Lebeau. Ay, and on affairs his advice is as good as a lawyer"s, and his fee a bagatelle."
"Don"t believe all that Monsieur Georges so flatteringly says of me,"
put in M. Lebeau, with a modest half-smile, and in English. "I should tell you that I, like yourself, am recently arrived at Paris, having bought the business and goodwill of my predecessor in the apartment I occupy; and it is only to the respect due to his antecedents, and on the score of a few letters of recommendation which I bring from Lyons, that I can attribute the confidence shown to me, a stranger in this neighbourhood. Still I have some knowledge of the world, and I am always glad if I can be of service to the English. I love the English"--he said this with a sort of melancholy earnestness which seemed sincere; and then added in a more careless tone,--"I have met with much kindness from them in the course of a chequered life."
"You seem a very good fellow,--in fact, a regular trump, Monsieur Lebeau," replied Graham, in the same language. "Give me your address. To say truth, I am a very poor French scholar, as you must have seen, and am awfully bother-headed how to manage some correspondence on matters with which I am entrusted by my employer, so that it is a lucky chance which has brought me acquainted with you."
M. Lebeau inclined his head gracefully, and drew from a very neat morocco case a card, which Graham took and pocketed. Then he paid for his coffee and lemonade, and returned home well satisfied with the evening"s adventure.
CHAPTER VII.
The next morning Graham sent for M. Renard, and consulted with that experienced functionary as to the details of the plan of action which he had revolved during the hours of a sleepless night.
"In conformity with your advice," said he, "not to expose myself to the chance of future annoyance, by confiding to a man so dangerous as the false Lebeau my name and address, I propose to take the lodging offered to me, as Mr. Lamb, an attorney"s clerk, commissioned to get in certain debts, and transact other matters of business, on behalf of his employer"s clients. I suppose there will be no difficulty with the police in this change of name, now that pa.s.sports for the English are not necessary?"
"Certainly not. You will have no trouble in that respect."
"I shall thus be enabled very naturally to improve acquaintance with the professional letter-writer, and find an easy opportunity to introduce the name of Louise Duval. My chief difficulty, I fear, not being a practical actor, will be to keep up consistently the queer sort of language I have adopted, both in French and in English. I have too sharp a critic in a man so consummate himself in stage trick and disguise as M. Lebeau not to feel the necessity of getting through my role as quickly as I can. Meanwhile, can you recommend me to some magasin where I can obtain a suitable change of costume? I can"t always wear a travelling suit, and I must buy linen of coa.r.s.er texture than mine, and with the initials of my new name inscribed on it."
"Quite right to study such details; I will introduce you to a magasin near the Temple, where you will find all you want."
"Next, have you any friends or relations in the provinces unknown to M. Lebeau, to whom I might be supposed to write about debts or business matters, and from whom I might have replies?"
"I will think over it, and manage that for you very easily. Your letters shall find their way to me, and I will dictate the answers."
After some further conversation on that business, M. Renard made an appointment to meet Graham at a cafe near the Temple later in the afternoon, and took his departure.
Graham then informed his laquais de place that, though he kept on his lodgings, he was going into the country for a few days, and should not want the man"s services till he returned. He therefore dismissed and paid him off at once, so that the laquais might not observe, when he quitted his rooms the next day, that he took with him no change of clothes, etc.
CHAPTER VIII.
Graham Vane has been for some days in the apartment rented of M.
Georges. He takes it in the name of Mr. Lamb,--a name wisely chosen, less common than Thompson and Smith, less likely to be supposed an a.s.sumed name, yet common enough not to be able easily to trace it to any special family. He appears, as he had proposed, in the character of an agent employed by a solicitor in London to execute sundry commissions and to collect certain outstanding debts. There is no need to mention the name of the solicitor; if there were, he could give the name of his own solicitor, to whose discretion he could trust implicitly. He dresses and acts up to his a.s.sumed character with the skill of a man who, like the ill.u.s.trious Charles Fox, has, though in private representations, practised the stage-play in which Demosthenes said the triple art of oratory consisted; who has seen a great deal of the world, and has that adaptability of intellect which knowledge of the world lends to one who is so thoroughly in earnest as to his end that he agrees to be sportive as to his means.
The kind of language he employs when speaking English to Lebeau is that suited to the role of a dapper young underling of vulgar mind habituated to vulgar companionships. I feel it due, if not to Graham himself, at least to the memory of the dignified orator whose name he inherits, so to modify and soften the hardy style of that peculiar diction in which he disguises his birth and disgraces his culture, that it is only here and there that I can venture to indicate the general tone of it; but in order to supply my deficiencies therein, the reader has only to call to mind the forms of phraseology which polite novelists in vogue, especially young-lady novelists, ascribe to well-born gentlemen, and more emphatically to those in the higher ranks of the Peerage. No doubt Graham, in his capacity of critic, had been compelled to read, in order to review, those contributions to refined literature, and had familiarized himself to a vein of conversation abounding with "swell"
and "stunner" and "awfully jolly," in its libel on manners and outrage on taste.
He has attended nightly the cafe Jean Jacques; he has improved acquaintance with M. Georges and M. Lebeau; he has played at billiards, he has played at dominos, with the latter. He has been much surprised at the unimpeachable honesty which M. Lebeau has exhibited in both these games. In billiards, indeed, a man cannot cheat except by disguising his strength; it is much the same in dominos,--it is skill combined with luck, as in whist; but in whist there are modes of cheating which dominos do not allow,--you can"t mark a domino as you can a card. It was perfectly clear to Graham that M. Lebeau did not gain a livelihood by billiards or dominos at the cafe Jean Jacques. In the former he was not only a fair but a generous player. He played exceedingly well, despite his spectacles; but he gave, with something of a Frenchman"s lofty fanfaronnade, larger odds to his adversary than his play justified. In dominos, where such odds could not well be given, he insisted on playing such small stakes as two or three francs might cover. In short, M.
Lebeau puzzled Graham. All about M. Lebeau, his manner, his talk, was irreproachable, and baffled suspicion; except in this,--Graham gradually discovered that the cafe had a quasi-political character. Listening to talkers round him, he overheard much that might well have shocked the notions of a moderate Liberal; much that held in disdain the objects to which, in 1869, an English Radical directed his aspirations. Vote by ballot, universal suffrage, etc.,--such objects the French had already attained. By the talkers at the cafe Jean Jacques they were deemed to be the tricky contrivances of tyranny. In fact, the talk was more scornful of what Englishmen understand by radicalism or democracy than Graham ever heard from the lips of an ultra-Tory. It a.s.sumed a strain of philosophy far above the vulgar squabbles of ordinary party politicians,--a philosophy which took for its fundamental principles the destruction of religion and of private property. These two objects seemed dependent the one on the other. The philosophers of the Jean Jacques held with that expounder of Internationalism, Eugene Dupont, "Nous ne voulons plus de religion, car les religions etouffent l"intelligence."
[Discours par Eugene Dupont a la Cloture du Congres de Bruxelles, Sept. 3, 1868]
Now and then, indeed, a dissentient voice was raised as to the existence of a Supreme Being, but, with one exception, it soon sank into silence.
No voice was raised in defence of private property. These sages appeared for the most part to belong to the cla.s.s of ouvriers or artisans. Some of them were foreigners,--Belgian, German, English; all seemed well off for their calling. Indeed they must have had comparatively high wages, to judge by their dress and the money they spent on regaling themselves.
The language of several was well chosen, at times eloquent. Some brought with them women who seemed respectable, and who often joined in the conversation, especially when it turned upon the law of marriage as a main obstacle to all personal liberty and social improvement. If this was a subject on which the women did not all agree, still they discussed it, without prejudice and with admirable sang froid. Yet many of them looked like wives and mothers. Now and then a young journeyman brought with him a young lady of more doubtful aspect, but such a couple kept aloof from the others. Now and then, too, a man evidently of higher station than that of ouvrier, and who was received by the philosophers with courtesy and respect, joined one of the tables and ordered a bowl of punch for general partic.i.p.ation. In such occasional visitors, Graham, still listening, detected a writer of the press; now and then, a small artist or actor or medical student. Among the habitues there was one man, an ouvrier, in whom Graham could not help feeling an interest.
He was called Monnier, sometimes more familiarly Armand, his baptismal appellation. This man had a bold and honest expression of countenance.
He talked like one who, if he had not read much, had thought much on the subjects he loved to discuss. He argued against the capital of employers quite as ably as Mr. Mill has argued against the rights of property in land. He was still more eloquent against the laws of marriage and Heritage. But his was the one voice not to be silenced in favour of a Supreme Being. He had at least the courage of his opinions, and was always thoroughly in earnest. M. Lebeau seemed to know this man, and honoured him with a nod and a smile, when pa.s.sing by him to the table he generally occupied. This familiarity with a man of that cla.s.s, and of opinions so extreme, excited Graham"s curiosity. One evening he said to Lebeau, "A queer fellow that you have just nodded to.