CHAPTER XXV.
THE ACADEMY OF M. BEAUSIRE.
Beausire had followed the advice of the blue domino, and repaired to the place of meeting in the Rue du Pot au Fer. He was frightened by the apparent exclusion which his companions had seemed to meditate, in not communicating their plans to him; and he knew none of them to be particularly scrupulous. He had acquired the reputation among them of a man to be feared; it was not wonderful, as he had been a soldier, and worn a uniform. He knew how to draw his sword, and he had a habit of looking very fierce at the slightest word that displeased him--all things which appear rather terrifying to those of doubtful courage, especially when they have reason to shun the eclat of a duel and the curiosity of the police.
Beausire counted, therefore, on revenging himself by frightening them a little. It was a long way, but Beausire had money in his pocket; so he took a coach, promised the driver an extra franc to go fast, and, to make up for the absence of his sword, he a.s.sumed as fierce a look as he could on entering the room.
It was a large hall, full of tables, at which were seated about twenty players, drinking beer or syrups, and smiling now and then on some highly rouged women who sat near them. They were playing faro at the princ.i.p.al table, but the stakes were low, and the excitement small in proportion.
On the entrance of the domino, all the women smiled on him, half in raillery, and half in coquetry, for M. Beausire was a favorite among them. However, he advanced in silence to the table without noticing any one.
One of the players, who was a good-humored looking fellow, said to him, "Corbleu, chevalier, you come from the ball looking out of sorts."
"Is your domino uncomfortable?" said another.
"No, it is not my domino," replied Beausire, gruffly.
"Oh!" said the banker, "he has been unfaithful to us; he has been playing somewhere else and lost."
"It is not I who am unfaithful to my friends; I am incapable of it. I leave that to others."
"What do you mean, dear chevalier?"
"I know what I mean," replied he; "I thought I had friends here."
"Certainly," replied several voices.
"Well, I was deceived."
"How?"
"You plan things without me."
Several of the members began to protest it was not true.
"I know better," said Beausire; "and these false friends shall be punished." He put his hand to his side to feel for his sword, but, as it was not there, he only shook his pocket, and the gold rattled.
"Oh, oh!" said the banker, "M. Beausire has not lost. Come, will you not play?"
"Thanks," said Beausire; "I will keep what I have got."
"Only one louis," said one of the women, caressingly.
"I do not play for miserable louis," said he. "We play for millions here to-night--yes, gentlemen, millions."
He had worked himself up into a great state of excitement, and was losing sight of all prudence, when a blow from behind made him turn, and he saw by him a great dark figure, stiff and upright, and with two shining black eyes. He met Beausire"s furious glance with a ceremonious bow.
"The Portuguese!" said Beausire.
"The Portuguese!" echoed the ladies, who abandoned Beausire to crowd round the newcomer, he being their especial pet, as he was in the habit of bringing them sweetmeats, sometimes wrapped up in notes of forty or fifty francs. This man was one of the twelve a.s.sociates.
He was used as a bait at their society. It was agreed that he should lose a hundred louis a week as an inducement to allure strangers to play. He was, therefore, considered a useful man. He was also an agreeable one, and was held in much consideration.
Beausire became silent on seeing him.
The Portuguese took his place at the table, and put down twenty louis, which he soon lost, thereby making some of those who had been stripped before forget their losses.
All the money received by the banker was dropped into a well under the table, and he was forbidden to wear long sleeves, lest he should conceal any within them, although the other members generally took the liberty of searching both sleeves and pockets before they left.
Several now put on their great-coats and took leave--some happy enough to escort the ladies.
A few, however, after making a feint to go, returned into another room; and here the twelve a.s.sociates soon found themselves united.
"Now we will have an explanation," said Beausire.
"Do not speak so loud," said the Portuguese in good French. Then they examined the doors and windows to make certain that all was secure, drew the curtain close, and seated themselves.
"I have a communication to make," said the Portuguese; "it was lucky, however, I arrived when I did, for M. Beausire was seized this evening with a most imprudent flow of eloquence."
Beausire tried to speak.
"Silence," said the Portuguese; "let us not waste words: you know my ideas beforehand very well; you are a man of talent, and may have guessed it, but I think "amour propre" should never overcome self-interest."
"I do not understand."
"M. Beausire hoped to be the first to make this proposition."
"What proposition?" cried the rest.
"Concerning the two million francs," said Beausire.
"Two million francs!" cried they.
"First," said the Portuguese, "you exaggerate; it is not as much as that."
"We do not know what you are talking of," said the banker.
"But are not the less all ears," said another.
The Portuguese drank off a large gla.s.s of Orgeat, and then began: "The necklace is not worth more than 1,500,000 francs."
"Oh, then it concerns a necklace?" said Beausire.
"Yes, did you not mean the same thing?"
"Perhaps."