The Grip of Desire Part 49

-Alas, alas, human infirmity!

Omnia vincit amor, et nos cadamus amori.

--Then....

--Then, we choose our company; for instance, that pretty girl there.

And Ridoux leant his head out of the door. They had just reached Vic, where they changed horses.

Lx.x.x.

AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE.

"Methinks Queen Mab upon your cheek Doth blend the tints of cream and rose.

And lends the pearls which deck her hat And rubies too from off her gown, To be your own fit ornament."

E. DARIO (_Strophes_).

Before the _Hotel des Messageries_, a young girl, modestly dressed, was waiting for the _diligence_, with an old band-box in her hand.

Marcel, who had also put his head out of the coach-door, looked at her with surprise. He had seen this girl somewhere. Yes, he remembered her. He had seen that charming countenance, he had already admired that fair hair and those blue eyes. But the face had grown pale; the cheeks had lost their freshness with the sun-burn, and the bosom its opulence. Marcel thought her prettier and more delicate like this. For it was really she, the mountebank's daughter, whom he had seen a few weeks before, dancing in the market-place of Althausen.

By what chance was she still in the neighbourhood, this travelling swallow?

Was the house on wheels then in the vicinity with its two broken-winded horses, and the clown with the cracked voice, and the big woman with the red face, and the thin and hungry little children?

He looked if he could not see them all, but he saw only the pretty fair girl, who had recognized him also, and made him a friendly bow.

--Mademoiselle Zulma! called the conductor.

--It is I, she said.

--This way, this way, my little dear, said the conductor with a good-natured familiarity which disgusted Marcel; there is no room inside.

And, to the priest's great delight, he opened the coupe.

The young girl seemed surprised, for she hesitated a little and said:

--What, in the coupe?

--Yes, my imp of Satan, in the coupe, and in good hands too. Do you complain? If you are not converted yet, here are two gentlemen who will undertake your conversion.

--Well, I ask for nothing better, she answered laughing; and addressing herself to Marcel: Will you take my band-box for me?

He took the box, and at the same time offered his hand to help her to get up. She leant on it prettily; and bowing to him, and to Ridoux also, she sat down beside Marcel.

--You have come back then into the country, Mademoiselle.

--I have not left it, sir; I have been ill. I am coming out of the hospital.

--Oh, really. And what has been the matter with you?

--'Pon my word, I don't know. I caught a chill after an evening performance, and when I woke up the next morning, I could not move arm or leg. My father was obliged to leave me here in the hospital. They have been very kind to me, and an old gentleman has even paid my coach-fare. Oh, there are good people everywhere.

--And you are going to Nancy?

--To Nancy first, then I shall rejoin the company, which ought to be at Epinal.

Ridoux was listening in his corner.

--You know this young person then? he said.

--I know her through having seen her once at Althausen.

--Twice, the young girl corrected him: when I arrived and when I went away.

You remember, we were both of us at our window?

Marcel remembered it very well; he remembered still better the fantastic sight in the market-place, and the lascivious dance, and the theatrical low-cut dress of the mountebank, which had awakened all at once the pa.s.sion of his feelings. But as he was afraid of allowing the young girl to suspect that the memory of her had left too deep a mark upon him, he answered.

--I don't remember.

Meanwhile, a throng of beggars besieged the _diligence_; allured by the sight of the two ca.s.socks, they recited all at the same time _litanies_, _paters_ and _aves_ in undefinable accents and in lamentable voices.

Ridoux and Marcel with much ostentation distributed a few _sous_ among the most bare-faced and importunate, that is to say among the most expert beggars and consequently those who least deserved attention, then they threw themselves back into the carriage and shut their ears.

--I have nothing more, said Ridoux, I have nothing more; go and work, you set of idlers.

--Poor things, murmured the player; no doubt, among the number there are some who cannot work.

--There, said Ridoux, is where the old order of things is ever to be lamented. Formerly there were convents which fed all the beggars, while now these starving creatures will soon eat us all up. Ah, it makes the heart bleed to see such misery.

And he took a pinch of snuff.

A poor woman, pale and sickly, with a child on her arm, kept timidly behind the greedy crowd. Zulma perceived her, and made her a sign. Then, taking a pie out of her hat-box, she cut it into two and gave her one half.

--You are giving away your breakfast, said Marcel.

--Yes, sir, it is a present from the kind Sisters. I should have eaten it yesterday, but I preferred to keep it for to-day; you see I have done a good action, she added laughing.

--I see that the Sisters were very kind to you.

--Yes, sir, they have converted me, they made me confess and take the Communion, which I had not done for a long time.

--That is well, said Ridoux.

The _diligence_ had started again. A tiny child, emaciated, in rags and with bare feet was running, cap in hand.