The Seven Cardinal Sins: Envy and Indolence Part 45

CHAPTER x.x.xV.

When Madame Bastien, her husband, and the bailiff entered the dining-room, they found there David and Frederick.

The latter exchanged a glance with his preceptor, approached Jacques Bastien, and said to him, in a respectful tone:

"Good morning, father, I thought you wished to be alone with my mother, and that is why I withdrew upon your arrival."

"It seems that your hysterics are gone," said Bastien to his son, in a tone of sarcasm, "and you no longer need to travel for pleasure. That is a pity, for I wanted to humour you with pleasure."

"I do not know what you mean, father."

Instead of replying to his son, Bastien, still standing, occupied himself in counting the plates on the table; he saw five and said to his wife, curtly:

"Why are there five plates?"

"Why, monsieur, because we are five," replied Marie.

"How five? I, Bridou, you and your son, does that make five?"

"You forget M. David," said Marie.

Jacques then addressed the preceptor.

"Monsieur, I do not know upon what conditions my wife has engaged you.

As for me, I am master here, and I do not like to have strangers at my table. That is my opinion."

At this new rudeness, the calmness of David did not forsake him, the consciousness of insult brought an involuntary blush to his brow, but he bowed, without uttering a word, and started toward the door.

Frederick, his face flushed with indignation and distress at this second outrage against the character and dignity of David, was preparing to follow him, when a supplicating glance from his friend arrested him.

At this moment, Marie said to the preceptor:

"M. David, M. Bastien having disposed of your chamber for a few days, will you consent to having a bed prepared for you in the chamber with old Andre?--unfortunately we have no other place for you."

"Nothing easier, madame," replied David, smiling. "I have the honour of being somewhat at home; so it is for me to yield the chamber I occupy to a stranger."

David bowed again and left the dining-room.

After the departure of the preceptor, Jacques Bastien, entirely unconscious of his coa.r.s.eness, sat down to the table, for he was very hungry in spite of the anger he nursed against his wife and son.

Each one took his place.

Jacques Bastien had Bridou on his right, Frederick on his left, and Marie sat opposite.

The anxiety of the young woman made her seek to change the subject of conversation constantly; she feared Jacques might discover the absence of the silver plate.

This revelation, however, hung upon a new incident.

Jacques Bastien, removing the cover from the soup tureen, dilated his wide nostrils, so as to inhale the aroma of the cabbage soup he had ordered, but, finding his expectation mistaken, he cried furiously, addressing his wife:

"What! no cabbage soup? and I wrote to you expressly that I wanted it.

Perhaps there is no leg of mutton with cloves either?"

"I do not know, monsieur, I forgot to--"

"By G.o.d's thunder, what a woman,--there!" cried Jacques, furiously, throwing the tureen cover down on the table so violently that it broke in pieces.

At the brutal exclamation of his father, Frederick betrayed his indignation by an abrupt movement.

Immediately Marie, pressing her son's hand under the table, signified her disapproval, and he restrained himself, but his quick resentment did not escape the eye of Jacques, who, after looking a long time at his son in silence, said to Bridou:

"Come, my comrade, we must content ourselves with this slop."

"It is pot luck, my old fellow," said the bailiff. "Pot luck, eh, eh, we all know that."

"Come," said Jacques, "let us at least say our grace before eating."

And he poured out a b.u.mper for Bridou, after which he emptied almost the rest of the bottle in an enormous gla.s.s, which he was accustomed to use, and which held a pint.

The obese Hercules swallowed this b.u.mper at one draught, then, disposing himself comfortably to serve the soup, he took in his hand an iron spoon, plated over, and bright with cleanliness.

"Why in the devil did you put this pot ladle here?" said he to Marie.

"Monsieur, I do not know," replied the young woman, looking down and stammering, "I--"

"Why not put on the table my large silver ladle, as usual," asked Jacques. "Is it because my comrade Bridou has come to dine here?"

Then, addressing his son, he said, abruptly:

"Get the silver ladle from the buffet."

"It is useless, father," said Frederick, resolutely, seeing the anguish of his mother and wis.h.i.+ng to turn his father's anger toward himself.

"The large silver ladle is not in the house; neither is the rest of the silver."

"What?" asked Jacques, stupidly.

But, not believing his ears, he seized the plate at his side, looked at it, and convinced of the truth of his son's words, he remained a moment, besotted with amazement.

Frederick and his mother exchanged glances at this critical moment.

The young man, determined to bring his father's anger on himself alone, replied, resolutely:

"It was I, father; without telling my mother, I sold the silver for--"

"Monsieur," cried Marie, addressing Jacques, "do not believe Frederick; it was I, and I alone, who--ah, well, yes, it was I who sold the silver."

Notwithstanding his wife's confession, Jacques Bastien could not believe what he had heard, so preposterous, so impossible did the whole thing appear.