The Flower Girl of The Chateau d'Eau Volume I Part 45

"Parbleu! we will find out what that is!" said Astianax, arming himself with a chair.

The others did the same, except Saint-Arthur, who deemed it prudent to return to the gate. Miaulard took down a lantern, and they went in the direction from which the noise came; they speedily discovered the gardener lying at the foot of a tree; he was asleep, but his sleep was greatly disturbed, for he groaned and muttered:

"Ah! the villains! In pity's name, don't hurt papa!--Here, take that, you!"

The young men returned to Madame de Grangeville, laughing heartily, and told her what had caused her terror.

"It's the actor who dealt blows in earnest," said Chambourdin. "He is so full of his subject, that even when sleeping off his wine, he fancies that he is acting still."

"Let us go back to the company and allay their anxiety," said Astianax, offering Madame de Grangeville his arm. "Come, madame; I trust that nothing more will interrupt the pleasures of the night."

"Faith," said Chambourdin, "we are all in excellent mood to enjoy ourselves, to dance. Even Monsieur Glumeau, who seemed not to feel well when he was playing his tyrant's role, is recovering all his agility and high spirits; he no longer has a st.i.tch in his side."

"Yes, I noticed that," muttered Miaulard; "the anisette has produced its due effect."

The young men returned to the house with the lady they had found in the woods, and the Comte de Brevanne, who had been an invisible witness of all that had happened, returned home, still saying to himself:

"How she has changed!"

XXI

ON THE BOULEVARD

Since Monsieur Malberg had gone to live at Nogent-sur-Marne, Georget, having no errands to do for him, had plenty of time to see the pretty flower girl and to talk to her; when she scolded him because he did not work, the messenger would reply with a sigh:

"Bless me! mamzelle, it isn't my fault if no work comes to me! I certainly don't refuse any, and although I am very happy with you, I often regret that I don't earn more money during the day--not for myself, for I always have more than I need, but for my mother, whom I would like to make more comfortable."

Georget meant what he said, for when he saw his mother persist in sitting up late, in robbing herself of sleep in order to earn a few sous more, he thought of the happy life he might have provided for her, of that life, free from hard labor and from care, which would have been hers if he had accepted Monsieur Malberg's offer; and that thought often clouded his brow; as he gazed at the pretty flower girl, he sometimes blamed himself for loving her, because he felt that that love had been fatal to his love for his mother.

One morning, the young fellow waited in his usual place, looking in the direction of Violette's booth, from which she had been absent for some time. Georget was more melancholy than usual; in the first place because he could not see the object of all his thoughts, and secondly, because he had earned nothing as yet that morning, and his mother had had a very scanty supper the night before.

Soon he noticed a young man pacing back and forth in front of Violette's booth, and recognized in him the little fellow with the squint, whom he knew to be one of the flower girl's adorers. Monsieur Astianax was sauntering along the boulevard, with an enormous cigar in his mouth, which he was very proud to be smoking, and the smoke of which he seemed to take pleasure in blowing into the faces of the ladies who pa.s.sed; a method of attracting attention which did not fail to be very agreeable.

Suddenly another young man, somewhat older, came toward little Glumeau; they met and stopped just in front of Georget, who, seated upon his stool, with his head in his hands, seemed to be asleep.

"Ah! it's young Astianax Glumeau!"

"Good-morning, Monsieur Chambourdin; so you are not at the Palais?"

"At the Palais! Why should I be, if you please, young man?"

"Why, to plead; I thought that an advocate----"

"I am an advocate only in the _Gazette des Tribunaux_. I publish little articles there which I invent for the pleasure of the subscribers. I plead at my leisure, in my office, before my desk, and I am never called to order; that is the way I understand the advocate's profession.

But you, my beardless youth, how does it happen that you are not in the country with papa and mamma? For I presume that your dear parents are still there? In such lovely weather, it is good luck to be in the shade and fresh air!"

"Yes, my parents are down at Nogent, and that is just the reason that you find me strolling on the boulevard! Ha! ha! when the parents are in the country I am my own master here; I do just what I choose!"

"Oh! I understand you, you young rascal; we have some little intrigues on the carpet. You are right, it is never too early to begin to make one's way in the world. If I had a son, I would say to him: 'Sow your wild oats early; in that way, you will have less to sow later.'--What do we need in order to be virtuous? experience; and to have experience, we must have lived! How is that for logic? Doesn't that smell of Cujas and Barthole?--And dear papa is well, I trust? The st.i.tch in the side hasn't come back?"

"No, but he has a constant itching on the sole of his foot just now."

"Indeed! all he has to do is to scratch."

"It isn't very convenient to scratch the sole of your foot; you can't do it while you're walking. You know my father--it makes him anxious, he's afraid that it's some humor."

"Well, that's an idea! He has chilblains, that's all."

"I went to friend Fourriette, the druggist's; he's making something for father to put on his feet."

"An excellent way to bring on a disease where there isn't any.--But no matter, you gave us a delightful party! The play, although it wasn't finished--or perhaps because it wasn't finished--was very amusing. And the ball and the supper! _Fichtre!_ we did go it!"

"I say, what about that young lady that you perched on a branch; it seemed to me that you were very attentive to her."

"Madame Boutillon? Oh, yes!"

"It's a pity that you fell when you were waltzing with her."

"I did it on purpose; it's a stratagem I invented, to make a woman become attached to me!"

"Why? because you throw her down while waltzing?"

"To be sure; when she feels herself falling, she clutches me, she clings to me, and squeezes me as tight as she can! Do you understand, young man, what intimate relations that brings about between us?"

"To be sure, that's true."

"Just try it, my dear fellow; take my advice, ask a lady to waltz, then fall with her; and tell me what you think of it."

"Shall I fall underneath or on top?"

"Underneath is more polite; but on top is more rakish."

"I will remember that; and at the first ball I go to, if I see a lady who takes my eye, I will ask her to waltz."

"The rest will go all alone!"

"And that method served with Madame Boutillon?"

"Don't I tell you that it's infallible?"

"And you call on that lady now?"

"To be sure; I play cards with her husband; we play Pope Joan; he's very fond of it.--And you, little Astianax--whom are you looking for on the boulevard? are you expecting to meet some one?"