Paul and His Dog Volume I Part 17

"So this is the creature for whom you abandon me! She doesn't do you credit!"

"Eh? what's she saying to you?" demanded Mademoiselle Amelia; "some nasty thing about me, I'll bet."

"No, no! nothing at all!" Edmond replied, as he watched Thelenie disappear in the crowd.

"I say yes; that tall giraffe spoke to you!"

"She called me a--monster!"

"Ah! how new that is!"

"Let us galop."

It was toward the end of this galop that Chamoureau had dropped his partner, who lost her mask, her hair and her cap, and had fled as far as possible, leaving the ball-room and rus.h.i.+ng aimlessly into the foyer, so great was his fear of being pursued and overtaken by his new conquest.

When he reached the foyer, the unlucky Spaniard dropped upon a bench, saying to himself:

"I have too hard luck! I am pursued by cruel fate! What a face! great G.o.d! what a horrible face! I wouldn't have her for charwoman! Why, if I, a business agent, had such a woman in my house, she'd frighten all my clients! And such an old thing! all skin and bone! and a profile like an embroidery frame! When a woman has no more flesh than that, she must be very bold, to go to the Opera ball, and try to make an acquaintance! I am not surprised that it hasn't happened to her for two years--she must have meant ten!--And I treated her to candy! It's very lucky that her mask fell off when it did! if it hadn't been for that, she'd have come to supper, she'd have unmasked afterward, the wretch! and G.o.d knows all the jokes the others would have made at my expense, especially Freluchon, who's a connoisseur in pretty women; for he often used to say to me: 'Chamoureau, your wife's too handsome for one man, it's downright murder!'--He was dancing the galop just now with a handsome wench dressed _a la Pompadour_, and Edmond with a _debardeur_; they both have what they want, I'm the only one who has nothing, after paying for so many sticks of candy. But I am done; I have had my fill of intrigues, and if I weren't waiting for those fellows I'd go home. But I can't go without Freluchon, as my clothes are at his room. We are to meet here in the foyer, under the clock. It must be very late. I have had very little sport here, and I've lost my false nose."

And Chamoureau watched the promenaders with a woe-begone expression. He did not notice that a blue domino pointed him out to one of pearl-gray, whispering:

"That's the man; he came with them."

The pearl-gray domino, with whom we are well acquainted, but whom our widower did not know as yet, immediately seated herself beside him and motioned to the blue domino to go.

At first Chamoureau simply moved away a little, to make room for the person who had taken a seat by his side; then, allured by the perfume that emanated from his neighbor, he glanced furtively at her, saying to himself:

"Sapristi! this domino smells good; it's as if a bouquet had sat down here. I ought to have guessed that that other woman didn't amount to anything; she smelt of garlic, and when she got warm dancing--then it was much worse!"

Chamoureau's examination of the pearl-gray domino was wholly to her advantage; in addition to the perfume she exhaled, everything about her was refined, stylish and in good taste. But when Thelenie fastened her great black eyes on him, our widower was speechless with admiration, and in his confusion he could think of nothing better to do than to pull up his boots.

Thus far, Chamoureau had not addressed a word to his neighbor, although he was dying to do so; she, however, saved him the trouble by opening the conversation herself.

"Well, Monsieur Chamoureau, are you enjoying the ball?"

"What! how! madame knows me? I have the honor of being known to madame?"

murmured our widower, utterly bewildered to hear the stylish domino call him by name.

"Yes, monsieur, I know you--not very well, I must admit; but well enough to tempt me to seat myself here so that I might talk with you."

"Oh! how flattered I am, madame! What! it was to talk with me that you came here to sit? that is extremely amiable on your part!"

"Oh, no! it is quite natural! Sometimes one pa.s.ses the whole night here without meeting a person with whom one can talk freely; for, to speak frankly, the company is very much mixed at a masquerade."

"You don't know how fully I realize it, madame! for I myself, a moment ago, was misled by a--a--less than n.o.body! But you understand--when people are masked!"

"In spite of the mask, monsieur, there are always a thousand things which enable one to recognize the well-bred woman, and which betray all these grisettes, all these prost.i.tutes who come here masked, to try to make dupes."

"That is perfectly true, madame; there are a thousand things that betray one's ident.i.ty; and, as I sit beside you, madame, those things lead me to believe that I am talking with an extremely _comme il faut_ person."

"Take care, Monsieur Chamoureau, you may be deceived again."

"Oh, no! this time I am sure of my ground!"

"You did not come to the ball alone, did you, monsieur?"

"No, madame, I came with two young men, friends of mine."

"Yes, Messieurs Freluchon and Edmond Didier."

"Ah! madame knows them also?"

"Very little; but I have a friend, a lady, who is very intimately acquainted with one of them."

"Yes, I understand; and it's with Freluchon, I suppose?"

"No, with Monsieur Edmond; and between ourselves, I think that my poor friend has bestowed her affections very ill."

"Yes, indeed, I should say so! If she relies on that young man's fidelity, she is completely taken in."

"He has to my mind every appearance of a ne'er-do-well, hasn't he, monsieur?"

"He's the worst ne'er-do-well in the world! one of those blades who make love to the first woman they see; who have three, four, five mistresses at the same time--I don't know how they manage it! I love the fair s.e.x, there's no doubt of that, and I cultivate it a.s.siduously, but I don't scatter myself about like that. _Ne quid nimis!_ That Latin axiom is my motto. Forgive me for using a dead language, madame; it slipped from my tongue."

"I congratulate you, monsieur, for not behaving as Edmond does."

"Freluchon's no better! Indeed, I think perhaps he's worse! He's a thorough scapegrace, and, as he's rich, he can do more than others; but he's an intimate friend of mine, and I don't propose to speak ill of him, especially as my late wife had much esteem for him."

"Are you a widower, monsieur?"

"Alas! yes, madame; I have lost my Eleonore, my sweet better half! my faithful companion!"

Chamoureau was on the point of blowing his nose, but he checked himself, reflecting that it would be unwise to appear grief-stricken in that lady's company; and, laying aside his melancholy, he a.s.sumed a sprightly air.

"Does not madame dance?"

"Oh, no! monsieur, never at a masquerade. But what have you done with your two friends?"

"They are dancing, madame; they must be on the floor."

"Between ourselves, Monsieur Chamoureau, it isn't good form to dance here, unless one is disguised as you are; then anything is allowable; but those gentlemen are not."

"True; but they are not exactly dancing; the galop is the only thing they dance--the infernal galop."

"Oh, yes! I remember: I saw Monsieur Edmond pa.s.s just now with a woman dressed as a _debardeur_--his mistress, I suppose?"

"Yes, that's one of his mistresses; it must be little Amelia; he was looking for her."

"Who is this Amelia?"