My Neighbor Raymond Part 1

My Neighbor Raymond.

by Charles Paul de k.o.c.k.

I

THE GRISETTE

I was strolling along the boulevards one Sat.u.r.day evening. I was alone, and in a meditative mood; contrary to my usual custom, I was indulging in some rather serious reflections on the world and its people, on the past and the present, on the mind and the body, on the soul, on thought, chance, fate, and destiny. I believe, indeed, that I was on the point of turning my attention to the moon, which was just appearing, and in which I already saw mountains, lakes, and forests,--for with a little determination one may see in the moon whatever one pleases,--when, as I was gazing at the sky, I suddenly collided with a person going in the opposite direction, whom I had not previously noticed.

"Look where you're going, monsieur; you're very awkward!" at once remarked a soft, sweet voice, which not even anger deprived of its charm. I have always had a weakness for pleasant voices; so I instantly descended from the regions to which I had mounted only for lack of something better to do, and looked at the person who had addressed me.

It was a girl of sixteen to eighteen years, with a little cap tied under her chin, a calico dress, and a modest ap.r.o.n of black mohair. She had every appearance of a young workgirl who had just finished her day's work and was on her way home. I made haste to look at her face: a charming face, on my word! Bright, mischievous eyes, a tiny nose, fine teeth, black hair, and a most attractive ensemble; an expressive face, too, and a certain charming grace in her bearing. I was forced to confess that I saw no such pretty things in the moon.

The girl had under her arm a pasteboard box, which I had unwittingly jostled; she refastened the string with which it was tied, and seemed to apprehend that the contents had suffered from my awkwardness. I lost no time in apologizing.

"Really, mademoiselle, I am terribly distressed--it was very awkward of me."

"It is certain, monsieur, that if you had looked in front of you this wouldn't have happened."

"I trust that I have not hurt you?"

"Me? oh, no! But I'm afraid that my flowers are crumpled; however, I will fix them all right at home."

"Ah!" said I to myself; "she's a flowermaker; as a general rule, the young ladies who follow that trade are not Lucretias; let us see if I cannot sc.r.a.pe acquaintance with her."

She replaced her box under her arm, and went her way. I walked by her side, saying nothing at first. I have always been rather stupid about beginning gallant interviews; luckily, when one has once made a start, the thing goes of itself. However, from time to time I ventured a word or two:

"Mademoiselle walks very fast. Won't you take my arm? I should be delighted to escort you. May I not be permitted to see you again? Do you go to the theatre often? I could send you tickets, if you chose. Pray be careful; you will surely slip!" and other polite phrases of that sort, the conventional thing in nocturnal meetings.

To all this I obtained no reply save:

"Yes, monsieur;" "no, monsieur;" "leave me, I beg you!" "you are wasting your time;" "don't follow me."

Sometimes she made no reply at all, but tossed her head impatiently, and crossed to the other side of the boulevard. But I crossed in her wake; and after a few moments of silence, I risked another remark, giving to my voice the most tender and sentimental inflection conceivable.

But I began to realize that my chance acquaintance was shyer than I had at first supposed, and that I might very well have nothing to show for my long walk, my little speeches, and my sidelong glances. However, her resistance augmented my desires; I remembered how foolish I felt one evening when, thinking that I had fallen in with an innocent maid, my charmer, when we arrived at her door, invited me to go up to her room; and I beg my readers to believe that I knew too much to accept. But appearances are so deceptive in Paris! the shrewdest connoisseurs allow themselves to be cozened; now, I ought to be a connoisseur, for I have seen a good deal of the world; and yet, I frequently allow myself to be taken in.

I made these reflections as I followed my pretty flower girl. She led me a devilish long way; we walked the whole length of Boulevards Montmartre, Poissonniere, Bonne-Nouvelle; we pa.s.sed all the small theatres. "She lives in the Marais," I thought; "that is plain." We went through Rue Chariot, Rue de Bretagne, Vieille Rue du Temple. We went on and on; luckily, the weather was fine, and I knew that she must stop sooner or later. Yes, and she would probably shut the door in my face; but what did I care? After all, I was simply killing time; I had not known what to do with myself, and I had suddenly found an objective point for my stroll. To be sure, such an objective point is within the reach of everyone in Paris; and it is easy to provide one's self with occupation by following the first saucy face one chances to meet.

Indeed, I know many men who do nothing else, and who neglect their business to do it. Above all, I notice a large number of government clerks, who, instead of attending to their duties, are constantly hunting grisettes, on the pretext of going out to buy lunch; to be sure, they go out without their hats, and run about the city as if they were simply making neighborly calls; which is very comforting for the departments, as they are always sure that their clerks are not lost.

But it is not my business to censure the conduct of other people; indeed, that would be a most inopportune thing to do, inasmuch as I am in the very act of setting a bad example; for, a moment ago, I was meditating upon the instability of human affairs, and now I am giving chase to a petticoat that covers the most fragile, the weakest, the most deceitful, but also the most seductive, most alluring, most enchanting creature that Nature has created! I was losing my head, my imagination was hard at work, and yet I saw only a foot--a dainty one, 'tis true--and the beginning of a leg clothed in a modest black woollen stocking. Ah! if I might only have seen the garter! Faith! all things considered, it is much better to follow a girl, at the risk of having a door shut in your face, than to try to read the moon, and to weary one's brain with metaphysics, astronomy, physiology, and metoposcopy; the deeper one delves into the vague and the abstract, the less clearly one discovers the goal and the proof; but, turn your attention to a saucy face, and you know at once what you wish to accomplish; and in the company of a pretty woman it is easy to discover the system of nature.

For several minutes I had said nothing to my young working girl; I was piqued by her persistent silence; I had even slackened my pace, so that she might think that I had ceased to follow her. But, although I was some twenty yards distant, I did not lose sight of her. She stopped, and so did I. She was speaking to someone; I walked toward them. The someone was a young man. I bit my lips in vexation; but I tried to distinguish what they were saying, and I overheard the following dialogue:

"Good-evening, Mademoiselle Caroline!"

"Good-evening, Monsieur Jules!"

"You are going home very late."

"We have lots of work, especially on Sat.u.r.day; and then I had a box to carry to Rue Richelieu; that is what makes me so late."

"What have you got in this box?"

"A pretty bunch of roses to wear in my cap to-morrow. I made it myself; it's very stylish, as you'll see. A clumsy fellow ran into me on the boulevard, and nearly made me drop it."

At that, I slunk into the pa.s.sageway in front of which I had stopped.

"There are some people who never pay any attention to anything when they're walking."

"I fancy this man was a student; he was looking at the sky."

"Did he ask your pardon?"

"Oh, yes!--But I must leave you; my aunt's waiting for me, and she'll give me a scolding."

"I should be very sorry to be the cause of anything unpleasant happening to you. We shall see each other to-morrow, shan't we?"

"Yes, yes; unless my aunt isn't willing that I should dance any more.

She's so cross! Have you got tickets for Tivoli?"

"Yes, mademoiselle, for four; I will call for you."

"Early, Monsieur Jules."

"Oh, never fear! But don't you forget we're to dance the first contradance together."

"I never forget such things!"

"Adieu, Mademoiselle Caroline!"

"Adieu, Monsieur Jules!"

Monsieur Jules drew nearer to her, and the girl offered her cheek. I heard a kiss. Parbleu! it was well worth while going all the way to Rue des Rosiers to see that!

The young man walked away, singing; the girl went a few steps farther, then entered a pa.s.sageway, of which she closed the door behind her, and I was left standing in the gutter.

That Jules was evidently her lover; yes, he had every appearance of a lover, albeit an honorable one, for I was certain that he kissed nothing but her cheek; moreover, his conversation did not suggest a seducer.

To-morrow, Sunday, they were going to Tivoli, with the aunt, no doubt, as he had tickets for four. Well, it was evident that I should have nothing to show for my walk. It was not the first time, but it was a pity; for she was pretty, very pretty! I examined the house with care.

One can never tell--chance may serve one at some time. The street was dark, the moon being behind a cloud, and I could not make out the number. But that was of no importance, for I could recognize the pa.s.sageway, the sharp corner, and the awning.

"What the devil! Pray be careful what you're doing! You just missed throwing that on me!"

An inmate of my charmer's house had opened his window and emptied a vessel into the street, just as I was trying to distinguish the color of the wall. Luckily, I escaped with a few splashes; but the incident abated my curiosity, and I left Rue des Rosiers, wiping my coat tails with my handkerchief.