A Voyage of Consolation Part 5

"Did Mr. McConnell get in for Mayor, or Jimmy f.a.gan?" I inquired, looking down the column.

"They don't seem to have asked anybody."

"And who got the Post Office?"

"Not there, not there, my child!"

"Oh!" said momma at the window, "these little gray-stone villages are too sweet for words. Why talk of Chicago? Mr. McConnell and Mr. f.a.gan are all very well at home, but now that the ocean heaves between us, and your political campaign is over, may we not forget them?"

"Forget Mike McConnell and Jimmy f.a.gan!" replied the Senator, regarding a pa.s.sing church spire with an absent smile. "Well, no, Augusta; as far as I'm concerned I'm afraid it couldn't be done--at all permanently.

There's too much involved. But I see what you mean about turning the mind out to pasture when the grazing is interesting--getting in a cud, so to speak, for reflection afterwards. I see your idea."

The Senator is always business-like. He immediately addressed himself through the other window to the appreciation of the scenery, and I felt, as I took out my note-book to record one or two impressions, that he would do it justice.

"No, momma," I was immediately compelled to exclaim, "you mustn't look over my shoulder. It is paralysing to the imagination."

"Then I won't, dear. But oh, if you could only describe it as it is! The ruined chateaux, tree-embosomed----" Momma paused.

"The gray church spires, from which at eventide the Angelus comes pealing--or stealing," she continued. "Perhaps 'stealing' is better."

"Above all the poplars--the poplars are very characteristic, dear. And the women toilers in the sunset fields garnering up the golden grain.

You might exclaim, 'Why are they always in blue?' Have you got that down?"

"They were making hay," poppa corrected. "But I suppose the public won't know the difference, any more than you did."

Momma leaned forward, clasping her smelling-bottle, and looked out of the window with a smile of exaltation.

"The cows," she went on, "the proud-legged Norman cows standing knee-deep in the quiet pools. Have you got the cows down, dear?"

The Senator, at the other window, looked across disparagingly, hard at work on his beard. He said nothing, but after a time abruptly thrust his hands in his pockets, and his feet out in front of him in a manner which expressed absolute dissent. When momma said she thought she would try to get a little sleep he looked round observantly, and as soon as her slumber was sound and comfortable he beckoned to me.

"See here," he said, not unkindly, argumentatively. "About those cows.

In fact, about all these pointers your mother's been giving you. They're all very nice and poetic--I don't want to run down momma's ideas--but they don't strike me as original. I won't say I could put my finger on it, but I'm perfectly certain I've heard of the poplars and the women field labourers of Normandy somewhere before. She doesn't do it on purpose"--the Senator inclined his head with deprecation toward the sleeping form opposite, and lowered his voice--"and I don't know that I'd mention it to you under any other circ.u.mstances, but momma's a fearful plagiarist. She doesn't hesitate anywhere. I've known her do it to William Shakespeare and the Book of Job, let alone modern authors. In dealing with her suggestions you want to be very careful. Otherwise momma'll get you into trouble."

I nodded with affectionate consideration. "I'll make a note of what you say, Senator," I replied, and immediately, from motives of delicacy, we changed the subject. As we talked, poppa told me in confidence how much he expected of the democratic idea in Paris. He said that even the short time we had spent in England was enough to enable him to detect the subserviency of the lower cla.s.ses there and to resent it, as a man and a brother. He spoke sadly and somewhat bitterly of the manners of the brother man who shaved him, which he found unjustifiably affable, and of the inexcusable abas.e.m.e.nt of a British railway porter if you gave him a s.h.i.+lling. He said he was glad to leave England, it was demoralising to live there; you lost your sense of the dignity of labour, and in the course of time you were almost bound to degenerate into a swell. He expressed a good deal of sympathy with the aristocracy on this account, concentrating his indignation upon those who, as it were, made aristocrats of innocent human beings against their will. It was more than he would have ventured to say in public, but in talking to me poppa often mentions what a comfort it is to be his own mouthpiece.

"The best thing about these tourists' tickets is," said the Senator as we approached Paris, "that they ent.i.tle you to the use of an interpreter. He is said to be found on all station platforms of importance, and I presume he's standing there waiting for us now. I take it we're at liberty to tap his knowledge of the language in any moment of difficulty just as if it were our own."

Ten minutes later the carriage doors were opening upon Paris, and the Senator's eagle eye was searching the crowded platform for this official. Our vague idea was that the interpreter would be a conspicuous and permanent object like a nickle-in-the-slot machine, automatically arranged to open his arms to tourists presenting the right tickets, and emit conversation. When we finally detected him, by his cap, he was s.h.i.+fting uneasily in the midst of a crowd of inquirers. His face was pale, his beard pointed, his expression that of a person constantly interrupted in many languages. The crowd was parting to permit him to escape, when we filled up the available avenue and confronted him.

"Are you the linguist that goes with our tickets?" asked the Senator.

"I am ze interpretare yes, but weez ze tickets I go not, no. All-ways I stay here in zis place, nowheres I go." He stood at bay, so to speak, frowning fiercely as he replied, and then made another bolt for liberty, but poppa laid a compelling hand upon his arm.

"If it's all the same to you," said poppa, firmly, "I've got ladies with me, and----"

"Yes certainly you get presently your tronks. You see zat door beside many people? Immediately it open you go and show ze customs man. You got no duty thing, it is all right. You call one fiacre--carriage--and go at your hotel."

"Oh," exclaimed momma, "is there any charge on nerve tincture, please?

It's _entirely_ for my personal use."

"It's _only_ on cigars and eau-de-Cologne, isn't it?" I entreated.

"Which door did you say?" asked the Senator. "I'd be obliged if you would speak more slowly. There's no cause for excitement. From here I can see fourteen doors, and I saw our luggage go in by _this_ door."

"You don't believe wat I say! Very well! All ze same it is zat door beside all ze people wat want zere tronks!"

"All right," said the Senator pacifically. "How you do boil over! I tell you one thing, my friend," he added, as the interpreter washed his hands of us, "you may be a necessity to the travelling public, but you're not a luxury, in any sense of the word."

CHAPTER V.

The Senator, discovering to his surprise that the hotel clerk was a lady, lifted his hat. He did not appear to be surprised, that wasn't the Senator's way, but he forgot what he had to say, which proved it. While he was hesitating she looked at him humorously and said "Good evening, sir!" She was a florid person who wore this sense of humour between hard blue eyes and an iron jaw. Momma took a pa.s.sionate dislike to her on the spot.

"Oh, then you do," said poppa. "You parlay Anglay. That's a good thing I'm sure, for I know mighty little Fransay. May I ask what sort of accommodation you can give Mrs. Wick, Miss Wick, and myself for to-night? Anything on the first floor?"

"What rooms you require are one double one single, yes? Certainly.

Francois, _trente-cinq et trente-huit_." She handed Francois the keys and her sense of humour disappeared in a smile which told poppa that he might, if he liked, consider her a fine woman. He, wis.h.i.+ng doubtless to bask in it to the fullest extent, produced his book of tickets.

"I expect you've seen these before," he said, apparently for the pleasure of continuing the conversation.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I expect you've seen these before."]

As her eye fell upon them a look of startled cynicism suddenly replaced the smile. Her cynicism was paradoxical, she was so large, and sound and wholesome, and the more irritating on this account.

"You 'ave the coupons!" she exclaimed. "Ah-a-ah!" in a crescendo of astonishment at our duplicity. "Then I 'ave made one mistake. Francois!

Those first floor rooms they are already taken. But on the third floor are two good beautiful rooms. There is also the lift--you can use the lift."

"I can't dispute with a lady," said poppa, "but that is singular. I should prefer those first floor rooms which were not taken until I mentioned the coupons."

"Sare!"

The lady's eye was unflinching, and poppa quailed. He looked ashamed, as if he had been caught in telling a story. They made a picture, as he stood there pulling his beard, of American chivalry and Gallic guile, which was almost pathetic.

"Well," said he, "as it's necessary that Mrs. Wick should lie down as soon as possible you might show us those third floor rooms."

Then he recovered his dignity and glanced at Madame more in sorrow than in anger. "Certainly, sare," she said severely. "Will you use the lift?

For the lift there is no sharge."

"That," said the Senator, "is real liberal." In moments of emotion poppa often dropped into an Americanism. "If it's a serious offer I think we _will_ use the lift."

At a nod from Madame, Francois went away to seek the man belonging to the lift, and after a time returned with him. The lady produced another key, with which the man belonging to the lift unlocked the door of the bra.s.s cage which guarded it.

"You must find strangers very dishonest, madam," said the Senator courteously as we stepped inside, "to render such a precaution necessary."