The Bath Keepers Volume I Part 13

At that moment, a young bachelor, who had been in front of Master Hugonnet's house when Cedrille and his companion were blockaded there, and who had disappeared simultaneously with Bourriquet, returned to the shop, shouting:

"Ah! I know where the pretty girl has gone! I know what that charming Milanese came to Paris for!"

"You know that, boy!" cried the Chevalier Pa.s.sedix, running up to the young man. "Oh! tell me quickly what you know, and I swear to you, by Roland and my G.o.dfather Chaudoreille, that I will treat you to a jar of wine at the next _fete carillonnee_."

"I had just as lief tell you for nothing!"

"Well, tell me for nothing; I agree, I will consent to whatever you wish; but speak, I am dying with impatience!"

"While everybody else stood here in open-mouthed amazement at the sudden departure of the travellers, I followed the horse at a distance. He went at a fast trot, but I have good legs, and I am not broken-winded."

"Arrive at the point, accursed chatterbox!"

"It was the travellers who arrived; that is to say, they stopped first to inquire the way of a dealer in pottery; then they trotted off again to Rue Saint-Honore and stopped in front of a fine house."

"On Rue Saint-Honore! Are you sure of that? Why, sandis! that is my quarter; it could not happen better! But to whom does the house belong?"

"It was the Hotel de Mongarcin, where Mademoiselle Valentine de Mongarcin is now living with her aunt, Madame de Ravenelle."

"Very good! this boy is no fool; go on."

"All three of the travellers entered the courtyard--I say all three, counting the horse."

"Go on, I say, sandioux!"

"As I was curious to know what they were going to do there, I strolled back and forth in front of the house."

"That was very ingenious."

"And, sure enough, before long came out an old servant who knows my father. I ran up to him and questioned him, and he said: 'That young girl has come here to enter the service of Mademoiselle Valentine de Mongarcin. She has been recommended to her, it seems; so it's all settled. As for the peasant who brought her here, he is going to rest a day or two and then go back to his province, unless he also prefers to find a place in Paris; but it seems that that is not to his taste.'--That is what I have learned."

"Thanks! a thousand thanks, my boy! Hotel de Mongarcin, Rue Saint-Honore. I shall be seen frequently in that vicinity.--Sandis! I am sorry that she is only a lady's-maid. But, after all, Dulcinea del Toboso was not a princess; and whatever anyone may say, Don Quixote was a hearty blade, and as good a man as another.--Au revoir, my boy! I will treat you whenever you choose, you know."

And Chevalier Pa.s.sedix walked away by Rue des Mathurins, and the young bachelor by Place Cambray.

After a day so well employed, it was natural enough that Master Hugonnet should visit his usual wine shop in the evening; and he did not fail to do so. Doubtless there was a large a.s.semblage of patrons, and the events of the morning, as they gave rise to much talk, naturally resulted in a proportionate amount of drinking.

The consequence was that Master Hugonnet returned home very late, completely drunk, and exceedingly susceptible to emotion, as he always was when in that condition.

Ambroisine, who was sitting up for her father, was not at all surprised by his state, and she urged him to go up to bed.

But Hugonnet had tears in his eyes, and he groaned mournfully as he stammered:

"Poor Lambourdin--it breaks my heart! Just imagine, daughter--he was shamefully beaten this morning!"

"I know it, father, and so do you, as it was you who beat him."

"I! do you think so?--Oh! what a calamity!--my dear friend Lambourdin!

Just imagine--he was beaten so--it's an outrage! Poor Lambourdin! my heart is heavy!--How could anyone beat such an honorable man?"

"Why, it was you who beat him."

"I! impossible!--When I heard of it, I wept with grief.--Poor Lambourdin! I will avenge him!"

And Master Hugonnet would not consent to go to bed until he had wept freely over the fate of his friend Lambourdin, and had sworn again to avenge him.

X

THE PLACE AUX CHATS

The Chevalier Pa.s.sedix lived on Place aux Chats.

You will not be sorry, reader, to know where that square was situated, for you would seek in vain for the slightest trace of it to-day. We will proceed to enlighten you upon that subject.

In the year 1634, Place aux Chats was near Rue de la Ferronnerie, close by the Impa.s.se des Bourdonnais, where Rue de la Limace had recently been cut through.

The Cemetery of the Innocents was on one side, and had one entrance on the square, another on Rue de la Ferronnerie, and a third on Rue aux Fers. Before it was christened Place aux Chats, it was called Place aux Pourceaux; and in 1575 Rue de la Limace bore the name of Vieille Place aux Pourceaux.

Do not imagine one of those s.p.a.cious, airy squares, such as you are familiar with in our day. What was called a square [_place_] in those days was often nothing more than the junction of two streets.

The houses which surrounded Place aux Chats bore no resemblance to one another. One had four stories, its next neighbor only two; but in all alike the heavy framework, the enormous beams, were visible, as it was not then thought worth while to cover them with plaster.

The roof of each of the houses hung over far beyond the gable end, thus diminis.h.i.+ng the air and light; the windows were small, irregular, and loosely set, the panes of gla.s.s were tiny and dirty; the doors were low and narrow; the halls dark and begrimed with dirt; the staircases, which were gloomy, dirty, and slippery, had huge posts of stone or wood for rails; and there were absolutely no lights.

Let us not regret the disappearance of Place aux Chats.

Over the door of one of the tallest houses on this square, which stood opposite the Cemetery of the Innocents, there was a long, wide board, painted yellow, bearing these words written in red on the yellow background:

HoTEL DU SANGLIER. FURNISHED LODGINGS FOR MAN, BUT NOT FOR BEAST

The Hotel du Sanglier had three windows on the square; that was almost luxurious; and it boasted five stories, counting the attics nestled in the roof.

It was one of the largest houses on Place aux Chats; and although the sign stated that horses would not be entertained, it was no infrequent occurrence for a mounted man to stop and take up his quarters there; in such cases, his nag was taken to an a.s.s keeper's, on the same square, who did not entertain hors.e.m.e.n, but was glad to take care of their beasts, and he almost always had tenants.

The Hotel du Sanglier was kept by a widow, already past middle age, named Dame Cadichard. She was a short, fat woman, who had been rather piquant and alluring in her springtime and even during her summer; her great fault was that she was determined to be piquant and alluring still, and to forget that her hair was no longer black, her waist no longer slender, and her complexion no longer fresh. She still had the flas.h.i.+ng glance, the merry laugh, and the sly jest; and from time to time she talked of remarrying, of giving the late Cadichard a successor.

But at such times the neighbors of the Hotel du Sanglier asked one another where the future spouse could be, for, among the guests of the house or the strangers who frequented it, no one ever had been observed to pay court to the Widow Cadichard.

Chaudoreille's G.o.dson had lived at the Hotel du Sanglier for more than a year; he occupied a very modest little chamber under the eaves, above the fourth floor. His room was lighted only by a little round window looking on the square, which, however, he could not see on account of the overhanging roof; the window, moreover, was so small that only one person could possibly have looked out at one time.

The furniture of the apartment was extremely modest; it consisted of a white wooden bedstead, of the simplest construction, the headboard and footboard being so insecure that when, in a moment of forgetfulness, the long, lank chevalier tried to stretch his legs, he instantly started all the screws from their holes, the bed fell apart and vanished, and the man who was lying upon it found himself stretched on the floor.

Two straw beds, a mattress as flat as a pancake, and a bolster of hay composed the bed furnis.h.i.+ngs. Beside that far from luxurious couch were a small oak table, two stools, and an enormous chest without a cover, in which the tenant was ent.i.tled to keep his effects; it was probably intended to serve as a commode.

A few boards nailed to the wall served the purpose of a wardrobe, and were embellished by those articles which the tenant found indispensable.