The Bath Keepers Volume Ii Part 9

"But that worries me very little.--Six thousand livres a year! Sandis! I used to make conquests galore, but now I shall be overwhelmed with them!"

The chevalier resumed possession of the apartment on the first floor; he stretched himself out luxuriously in an enormous easy-chair that was almost suitable for a bed, and glanced about the room, saying to himself:

"Ah! Monsieur de Carvajal, so I am occupying your place now!--Who knows?

perhaps you would be very happy now to live in a little room under the eaves; for in this world, when one goes up, we frequently see others come down, and _vice versa_.--Oh! but I will find this mysterious Spaniard! From all I have been able to judge, he knows that little Miretta; I believe him to be my rival with the little brunette. A grandee of Spain, in love with a chambermaid--that is rather extraordinary! But, after all, I sigh for that girl, and I am the equal of the grandest of Spanish grandees."

Popelinette returned with two waiters from the wine shop, bringing dishes and bottles. In a short time, a dinner fit for Gargantua was spread before Pa.s.sedix; but the newly made heir seemed not at all alarmed when he saw the contents of the dishes that were served him; and from the way in which he attacked them one might fairly presume that he would reach the end of them.

Pa.s.sedix had already put away half of his repast, and was attacking the second half, when Popelinette, the old servant, who had become as courteous as her mistress, came in with repeated reverences and informed him that Monsieur Bahuchet and his comrade, Monsieur Plumard, had arrived, and wished to speak with him.

"Very good! I know what they are here for!" cried Pa.s.sedix; "they have brought new clothes, in the latest style.--Usher these young men into my presence; I will choose such things as seem worthy of my person, and it will not prevent my finis.h.i.+ng my dinner!"

Before we introduce the solicitor's two clerks, let us see what had happened between them as a result of the delicate commission which one had intrusted to the other.

x.x.xIII

BAHUCHET'S POMADE

We have seen in what fas.h.i.+on Master Landry treated young Plumard, whom he had taken for a lover of his daughter.

We know, too, that little Bahuchet, having betaken himself to a wine shop with the purpose of regaling himself there, had found means to obtain a thras.h.i.+ng from Master Hugonnet, to whom he had applied for some pomade which would make the hair grow. As in those days hair dressers employed neither bear's grease nor lion's flesh, the bath keeper had taken the young clerk's request in very ill part. Bahuchet had returned home sorely vexed because he had been beaten, but even more dissatisfied because he had obtained no pomade; for he was most solicitous to recover possession of the gold piece that he had given to his comrade Plumard, and which the latter had promised to return to him on receipt of the precious cosmetic that was to restore to the nape of his neck the shade which it had lost.

"After all," said Bahuchet to himself, the next morning, "as that brute of a barber would not give me any pomade, pardieu! I will make some myself! And who knows! perhaps it will be better for the head than all the infernal drugs that the wigmakers rub into our hair."

After having considered some time what he could make it of, the little clerk took some gum, mustard, pitch, starch, and mola.s.ses, and with all of these he compounded a solid paste which gave forth a not very sweet odor, but which clung so persistently to the hands that it was extremely difficult to free them from it. He filled a small jar with this substance, wrapped it in a paper, put his seal upon it, and walked proudly to the office, saying to himself:

"Plumard shall have his pomade, and I my gold piece."

The two clerks accosted each other, each with a most amusing expression.

"Well, friend Plumard, did you do my errand? did you deliver the white plume?"

"Yes, to be sure; I put it into Master Landry's own hands."

"How did he take the thing?"

"In very bad part, and at one time I thought he was going to treat me shamefully; luckily, I ran away in time.--But I would not undertake such a commission again! it was too dangerous!"

"And for that reason you shall be handsomely paid!" said Bahuchet, taking from his pocket the little jar in which he had placed his vile mixture.

Plumard's face beamed; his hand was already put forth to grasp the little jar, but Bahuchet pushed it away, saying:

"One minute; how about my gold piece?"

"Oh! of course, I will return it to you; I ask nothing better; I much prefer this jar!"

"I should think so! a wonderful invention like this! I ought to have made you pay me its weight in gold; but between friends, you know.

Besides, a promise is a sacred thing! Here, take your stuff!"

And Bahuchet, having received his money, handed his comrade the little jar.

Plumard was in such a hurry to experiment with his pomade, that he instantly tore off the paper and looked at and smelt the contents of the jar.

"It is black," he said.

"I suppose that it has to be black."

"It has a strange smell."

"Probably because the old sibyl uses plants that are unknown to us."

"How hard it is!"

"You must warm it a little before using; then it becomes more ductile."

"No matter; I mean to put some of it on my head at once."

"What! here, in the office? You had better put it on at home."

"No! there are only we two in the office as yet, and I do not want to postpone making use of it."

"You don't imagine, I suppose, that your hair will grow instantly? You must give the stuff time to act on the capillary tissues."

"Very good; but the sooner I put some of it on my head, the sooner the hair will grow.--By the way, is there any particular way of using it?"

Bahuchet reflected a few moments, then replied:

"Yes; wait till I recall the old witch's instructions.--Ah! now I have it: first heat the pomade, then rub your skull with it, put on a good lot; then you must cover it with a small round piece of linen, cotton, or woollen stuff--the material is not important; you must simply be sure that the pomaded part is well covered. Then, in a few days you will see your hair!"

"Very well! I will follow your instructions to the letter; I will warm it on the stove. But what in the devil shall I put on my head to cover the pomade?"

"See--there's an old black woollen stocking that Maitre Bourdinard's servant must have left here by mistake; you can cut a cap out of that."

"Faith! you are right; I shall look like a little abbe. Come, let us set to work!"

Bahuchet cut from the stocking a round piece large enough to cover the top of Plumard's head; meanwhile, the latter daubed his head with the mixture, which the heat had melted; he noticed with surprise that he could not free his fingers from the pomade after he had used it; but Bahuchet told him that that was a proof of the virtue of the cosmetic.

At last, the clerk's head being sufficiently pomaded, the piece of woollen stocking was applied, and the operation was at an end. The clerk then covered his head with the cap which he hardly ever laid aside.

The next morning, young Plumard put his hand to his head to make sure that his plaster was still firm. As he pa.s.sed his fingers over it, he felt a sort of crust, but the woollen covering did not stir, and the clerk was convinced that the process of growing was under way.

A week pa.s.sed.

Plumard had tried, but to no purpose, to remove the piece of woollen stocking that covered his head.

"Let it alone, for heaven's sake!" said Bahuchet; "if it sticks, it must be that the work is going on; when the hair has grown a little, your skullcap will fall off of itself."