The Bath Keepers Volume I Part 51

PLUMARD

On leaving the Hotel de Mongarcin on this occasion, Bahuchet did not jostle the pa.s.sers-by or jingle the money in his purse; the little clerk was beginning to be accustomed to windfalls. Moreover, at that moment his joy was moderated by another sentiment. He had carefully concealed the white plume under his doublet; then he had counted the contents of the purse twice over. He found therein a hundred livres tournois in coins of various denominations, and he gazed with admiration at the money; then he carefully bestowed the purse in his belt, saying to himself:

"It is a great pity that I have to carry this plume to Landry the bath keeper! There is nothing pleasant about that commission; it may even be dangerous! Pardieu! Mademoiselle de Mongarcin knows it well enough! She would not pay such a price to have an errand done that is apparently so simple, if she did not foresee that the messenger would be exposed to great risk!--Let me see, let me see! I must cudgel my brain a bit and try to think if there is not some way of keeping my back or my face out of reach of cudgels or claws.--I have promised that this white plume shall be handed to-day to young Bathilde's parents; it shall be, for an honest youth has only his word! Moreover, I am in a solicitor's office!

But solicitors know how to get around the most knotty questions; suppose I should get around this errand of mine--suppose I should send somebody else in my place to carry this infernal plume, prescribing the words he was to say? Why, that would come to precisely the same thing in the end, and my person would run no risk whatever!"

Having decided upon this plan, Bahuchet bent his steps toward the wretched eating house where he and his comrade Plumard generally dined.

On entering the place, he saw his friend seated at his usual table; he took his seat opposite him, with an even more than ordinarily expansive smile.

"Enchanted to find you, Plumard, my boy! I should have been disappointed if you had not come here to-night. You are having supper--I will do likewise, for I have a keen appet.i.te. What you are eating looks very good, Plumard; what in the devil is it?"

"It is a rabbit stew, according to our host; but it's too good to be rabbit, it must be cat at least!"

"Ah! bigre! I propose to have some of it, too.--Hola! waiter! bring me a portion of the same dish that my friend has; if it isn't the same animal, I won't have it! And by the way, waiter, you may also bring me some fricot of veal, with small onions--a large portion! Make it double, and I will give my friend Plumard some; he has a weakness for veal, like myself. And, waiter, I could eat some of that delicious fish which is noted for its bones--a carp, as fine as those at Fontainebleau, where they resemble whales; a fried carp! That is a feast in itself--with a sprig of parsley on it; and I know that my friend Plumard does not profess a profound contempt for the carp. Moisten it all with that Argenteuil light wine that is so well _stripped_--you know what I mean, don't you? the old, not the new; the really old, that you don't make yourself.--Go, waiter, and if I am content with you I will grease your palm, as we say at the office."

"But I say!" said Plumard, fixing his great round eyes on his vis-a-vis; "what does this mean, Bahuchet? Have you had a legacy left you? or has a fair lady of mature years let her favors fall upon you?"

"No! nothing of the sort! Certainly, a lady might fall in love with me as well as with another. I am not a foe of the fair s.e.x. Although there is always a reverse side to the medal, I will not say of women, with Suetonius, that we must _missam facere uxorem_!--That Suetonius was not a gallant man."

"Answer what I ask you, instead of quoting your cla.s.sics!"

"It seems to me, Plumard, that with you I may venture to take a few strides into the domain of science. You are a clerk like myself; you must understand Latin. If you do not understand it, I grieve for you."

"What an infernal chatterbox! he keeps branching off from his subject."

"That proves that I have facility in elocution, elasticity in my ideas.

There are many people who would like to branch off from their subject, and who cannot. They have to remain nailed fast to it, for lack of imagination to think up anything else;--_quid agis_? You wish to know why I treat you so handsomely this evening, do you not? Well, I propose to tell you: I won a dozen livres in a game of _brisque_ with a churl, and I propose to consume a part of it with you. Do you think that I do wrong?"

"No, no! far from it; it is an excellent idea of yours!"

"Ah! it is very lucky that you approve of my action."

"Do you play at _brisque_?"

"I play at all games at which I win; they are the only ones that amuse me.--But here comes the veal. Let us attend strictly to business. There are idiots who say: _Non ut edam vivo, sed ut vivam edo_. For my part, I am not ashamed to say that I live for nothing else except to eat; for if I did not eat, I should die. Why, then, should not one do with pleasure, with sensuous delight, a thing which we are bound to do every day?--Let us fall to!"

Bahuchet, possessor of a stomach whose capacity was extraordinary, swallowed with surprising rapidity everything that the waiter placed between him and Plumard; he consumed, unaided, almost the entire contents of the dishes which he had ordered for two; so that his friend stopped him at last, saying:

"It was hardly worth while to offer to treat me, if you propose to eat everything!"

"_Quid rogas_, comrade? why do you eat so slowly? I concluded that you were not hungry, and I thought that it was useless to leave anything."

"If I ate as fast as you, I should choke to death!"

"Well, I will go slower now.--Besides, I want to talk with you; and when one is talking, one cannot eat; that is why I laid in a stock in advance.--Plumard, I am going to tell you something which will make you very happy."

"Bah! is it that our solicitor is going to give us a crown more a month?"

"Ouiche! I advise you to count on that! He is more likely to cut us down; he has already threatened to do it to me!--Come, think, think of something that might be of immense benefit to you."

Plumard raised his great eyes to the beams which sustained the ceiling.

"Have you met a rich woman who wishes to marry me?"

"You haven't guessed yet; but with what I have discovered, I make no doubt that you will very soon fascinate some wealthy dowager, who will lay her crowns at your feet."

"Come, explain yourself, Bahuchet; you know that I am not very strong at guessing, and you keep me in suspense too long!"

"_Quid festinas_? What's the hurry? Think; take your time!"

"If you don't tell me, I will go away!"

"What a keg of powder!"

"That is my nature!"

"Well, listen: I have discovered in a _cul-de-sac_ an old hag who has invented a pomade that infallibly makes the hair grow on the baldest skulls and those most rebellious under cultivation!"

Plumard frowned and looked at his comrade with a wrathful air, muttering:

"Do you mean to make sport of me, as usual? You know, Bahuchet, that I don't like that. You have already told me a lot of stories about pomades that did not exist. You have sent me to ask for them to people who have laughed in my face. I want no more of your practical jokes! I will fight you if you begin that game again. I am not afraid to fight; I am no coward! Look out, or I will hit you a crack!"

"Ta! ta! ta! What a nice, amiable boy it is!--You treat a person, and try to make yourself agreeable to him, and to reward you he threatens to beat you!--All right; we will say no more about it, my dear fellow; I will keep my discovery to myself, and if a few of my hairs should fall out some day I shall know how to remedy it."

Plumard was silent for a moment, nibbling a piece of dry bread.

Then he murmured, in a softer tone:

"Then why have you fooled me so often? How do you expect me to have confidence in you?"

"It's all right! it's all right! let us say no more about it."

"But this old hag who makes the pomade--do you know her address?"

"No, I tell you, I no longer know anything; I was lying, I was trying to make fun of you! I deserve nothing better than the rope's end or the cudgel!"

"Come, come, Bahuchet! I was too quick; I am sorry."

"Ah! when a friend tells me that he is sorry, I cannot harbor ill will against him.--Yes, I know where to find the hag."

"And she sells this pomade?"

"No, she won't sell it to anybody!--but to me, having taken a fancy to me, she will give a jar."

"Oh! that is much more agreeable! And when will you have this jar?"

"To-morrow, if I choose."