He does not believe in magnetism, and wishes to make people laugh at M.
Mesmer--that is all."
"Good!" replied another voice; "we will see if we cannot turn the laugh against M. de Cagliostro;" and M. Reteau, turning, saw before him the young man we mentioned.
His glance was menacing; he had his left hand on the hilt of his sword, and a stick in his right.
"What can I do for you, sir?" said Reteau, trembling.
"You are M. Reteau?" asked the young man.
"Yes, sir."
"Journalist, and author of this article?" said the visitor, drawing the new number from his pocket.
"Not exactly the author, but the publisher," said Reteau.
"Very well, that comes to the same thing; for if you had not the audacity to write it, you have had the baseness to give it publicity. I say baseness, for, as I am a gentleman, I wish to keep within bounds even with you. If I expressed all I think, I should say that he who wrote this article is infamous, and that he who published it is a villain!"
"Monsieur!" said Reteau, growing pale.
"Now listen," continued the young man; "you have received one payment in money, now you shall have another in caning."
"Oh!" cried Reteau, "we will see about that."
"Yes, we will see," said the young man, advancing towards him; but Reteau was used to these sort of affairs, and knew the conveniences of his own house. Turning quickly round, he gained a door which shut after him, and which opened into a pa.s.sage leading to a gate, through which there was an exit into the Rue Vieux Augustins. Once there, he was safe; for in this gate the key was always left, and he could lock it behind him.
But this day was an unlucky one for the poor journalist, for, just as he was about to turn the key, he saw coming towards him another young man, who, in his agitation, appeared to him like a perfect Hercules. He would have retreated, but he was now between two fires, as his first opponent had by this time discovered him, and was advancing upon him.
"Monsieur, let me pa.s.s, if you please," said Reteau to the young man who guarded the gate.
"Monsieur," cried the one who followed him, "stop the fellow, I beg!"
"Do not be afraid, M. de Charny; he shall not pa.s.s."
"M. de Taverney!" cried Charny; for it was really he who was the first comer.
Both these young men, on reading the article that morning, had conceived the same idea, because they were animated with the same sentiments, and, unknown to each other, had hastened to put it in practise. Each, however, felt a kind of displeasure at seeing the other, divining a rival in the man who had the same idea as himself. Thus it was that with a rather disturbed manner Charny had called out, "You, M. de Taverney!"
"Even so," replied the other, in the same way; "but it seems I am come too late, and can only look on, unless you will be kind enough to open the gate."
"Oh!" cried Reteau, "do you want to murder me, gentlemen?"
"No," said Charny, "we do not want to murder you; but first we will ask a few questions, then we will see the end. You permit me to speak, M. de Taverney?"
"Certainly, sir; you have the precedence, having arrived first."
Charny bowed; then, turning to Reteau, said:
"You confess, then, that you have published against the queen the playful little tale, as you call it, which appeared this morning in your paper?"
"Monsieur, it is not against the queen."
"Good! it only wanted that."
"You are very patient, sir!" cried Philippe, who was boiling with rage outside the gate.
"Oh, be easy, sir," replied Charny; "he shall lose nothing by waiting."
"Yes," murmured Philippe; "but I also am waiting."
Charny turned again to Reteau. "Etteniotna is Antoinette transposed--oh, do not lie, sir, or instead of beating, or simply killing you, I shall burn you alive! But tell me if you are the sole author of this?"
"I am not an informer," said Reteau.
"Very well; that means that you have an accomplice; and, first, the man who bought a thousand copies of this infamy, the Count de Cagliostro; but he shall pay for his share, when you have paid for yours."
"Monsieur, I do not accuse him," said Reteau, who feared that he should encounter the anger of Cagliostro after he had done with these two.
Charny raised his cane.
"Oh, if I had a sword!" cried Reteau.
"M. Philippe, will you lend your sword to this man?"
"No, M. de Charny, I cannot lend my sword to a man like that; but I will lend you my cane, if yours does not suffice."
"Corbleu! a cane!" cried Reteau. "Do you know that I am a gentleman?"
"Then lend me your sword, M. de Taverney; he shall have mine, and I will never touch it again!" cried Charny.
Philippe unsheathed his sword, and pa.s.sed it through the railings.
"Now," said Charny, throwing down his sword at the feet of Reteau, "you call yourself a gentleman, and you write such infamies against the Queen of France; pick up that sword, and let us see what kind of a gentleman you are."
But Reteau did not stir; he seemed as afraid of the sword at his feet as he had been of the uplifted cane.
"Morbleu!" cried Philippe, "open the gate to me!"
"Pardon, monsieur," said Charny, "but you acknowledged my right to be first."
"Then be quick, for I am in a hurry to begin."
"I wished to try other methods before resorting to this, for I am not much more fond of inflicting a caning than M. Reteau is of receiving one; but as he prefers it to fighting, he shall be satisfied;" and a cry from Reteau soon announced that Charny had begun.
The noise soon attracted old Aldegonde, who joined her voice to her master"s.
Charny minded one no more than the other; at last, however, he stopped, tired with his work.
"Now have you finished, sir?" said Philippe.