Tom Burke Of "Ours" Volume I Part 34

"What!" cried I, aloud; "_me!_--invite me to the Palace! There must be some mistake here." And I turned again to the envelope, where my name was legibly written, with my grade and the number of my new corps. There could be no doubt of it; and yet was it still inexplicable. I that was so perfectly alone,--a stranger, without a friend, save among the humble ranks of the school,--how came such a distinction as this to be conferred on me? I thought of Tascher; but then we had lived months together, and such a thing had never been even alluded to. The more I reflected on it, the greater became my difficulty; and in a maze of confusion and embarra.s.sment, I pa.s.sed the day in preparation for the evening,--for, as was customary at the period, the invitations for small parties were issued on the very mornings' themselves.

My first care was to look after the uniform of my new corps, in which I knew I must appear. My last remaining bank note--the sole survivor of my little stock of wealth--was before me; and I sat calculating with myself the costly outlay of a hussar dress, the full uniform of which had not till now entered into my computation. Never was my ingenuity more sorely tried than in the endeavor to bring the outlay within the narrow limits of my little purse; and when at length I would think that all had been remembered, some small but costly item would rise up against me, and disconcert all my calculations.

At noon I set out to wait on my new colonel, whose quarters were in the Place Vendome. The visit was a short and not over pleasant one; a crowd of officers filled the rooms, among whom I edged my way with difficulty towards the place where Colonel Marbois was standing. He was a short, thick-set, vulgar-looking man, of about fifty; his mustache and whiskers meeting above the lip, and his bushy, black beard below, gave him the air of a pioneer, which his harsh Breton accent did not derogate from.

"Ah, c'est vous!" said he, as my name was announced. "You 'll have to learn in future, sir, that officers of your rank are not received at the levies of their colonel. You hear me: report yourself to the _chef d'escadron_, however, who will give you your orders. And mark me, sir, let this be the last day you are seen in that uniform."

A short and not very gracious nod concluded the audience; and I took my leave not the less abashed that I could mark a kind of half smile on most of the faces about me as I withdrew from the crowd,--scarcely in the street, however, when my heart felt light and my step elastic. I was a sous-lieutenant of hussars; and if I did my duty, what cared I for the smiles and frowns of my colonel? and had not the General Bonaparte himself told me that "no grade was too high for the brave man who did so?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: Monsieur Crillac's Salon 239]

I can scarcely avoid a smile even yet as I call to mind the awe I felt on entering the splendid shop of Monsieur Crillac,--the fas.h.i.+onable tailor of those days, whose plategla.s.s windows and showy costumes formed the standing point for many a lounger around the corner of the Rue de richelieu and the Boulevard. His saloon, as he somewhat ostentatiously called it, was the rendezvous for the idlers of a fas.h.i.+onable world, who spent their mornings canva.s.sing the last gossip of the city and devising new extravagances in dress. The morning papers, caricatures, prints of fas.h.i.+ons, patterns of waistcoats, and new devices for b.u.t.tons, were scattered over a table, round which, in every att.i.tude of indolence and ease, were stretched some dozen of the exquisites of the period, engaged in that species of half-ennui, half-conversation, that forms a considerable part of the existence of your young men of fas.h.i.+on of every age and every country. Their frock-coats of light cloth, high-collared, and covered with b.u.t.tons; their _bottes revers_ reaching only mid-leg, and met there by a tight _pantalon collant_; their hair studiously brushed back off their foreheads, and worn long, though not in queue behind,--bespoke them as the most accurate types of the mode.

The appearance of a youth in the simple uniform of the Polytechnique, in such a place, seemed to excite universal astonishment. Such a phenomenon apparently had never been witnessed before; and as they turned fully round to stare at me, it was clear they never deemed that any mark of rudeness could be felt by one so humble as I was. Monsieur Crillac himself, who was sipping his gla.s.s of _eau sucre_, with one arm leaning on the chimney-piece, never deigned to pay me other attention than a half-smile, as, with a voice of most patronizing softness, he lisped out,--

"What can we do for you here, Monsieur?"

Apparently the answer to this question was a matter of interest to the party, who suddenly ceased talking to listen.

"I wish to order a uniform," said I, summoning up all my resolution not to seem abashed. "This is a tailor's, if I don't mistake?"

"Monsieur is quite correct," replied the imperturbable proprietor, whose self-satisfied smile became still more insulting, "but perhaps not exactly what you seek for. Gentlemen who wear your cloth seldom visit us."

"No, Crillac," interrupted one of the bystanders; "I never heard that you advertised yourself as fas.h.i.+oner to the Polytechnique, or tailor in ordinary to the corps of Pompiers."

"You are insolent, sir!" said I, turning fiercely round upon the speaker. The words were scarce spoken, when the party sprang to their legs,--some endeavoring to restrain the temper of the young man addressed; others, pressing around, called on me to apologize on the spot for what I had said.

"No, no; let us have his name,--his name," said three or four in a breath. "De Beauvais will take the punishment into his own hands."

"Be advised, young gentleman; unsay your words, and go your way," said an elder one of the party; while he added in a whisper, "De Beauvais has no equal in Paris with the small sword."

"There is my address," said I, seizing a pen, and writing on a piece of paper before me.

"Ha!" said De Beauvais, as he threw his eye on the writing; "he has got his grade, it seems: all the better that,--I half shrunk from the ridicule of an affair with a cadet. So you are serious about this?"

"Sir!" said I, all my efforts being barely enough to repress my rising pa.s.sion.

"Well, well! enough about it. To-morrow morning; the Bois de Boulogne; the rapier. You understand me, I suppose?"

I nodded, and was about to leave the place, when I remembered that in my confusion I had neither asked my antagonist's name nor rank.

"And you, sir," said I, "may I have the honor to learn who you are?"

"Pardieu, my young friend!" cried one of the others; "The information will not strengthen your nerves. But if you will have it, he is the Marquis de Beauvais, and tolerably well known in that little locality where he expects to meet you to-morrow."

"Till then, sir," replied I, touching my cap, as I turned into the street; not, however, before a burst of laughter rang through the party at a witticism of which I was the object, and the latter part of which only could I catch.

It was De Beauvais who spoke: "In which case, Crillac, another artist must take his measure."

The allusion could not be mistaken, and I confess I did not relish it like the others.

I should, I fear, have fallen very low in the estimate of my companions and a.s.sociates could the real state of my heart at that moment have been laid open to them. It was, I freely own, one of great depression. But an hour ago, and life was opening before me with many a bright and cheerful hope; and now in an instant was my fortune clouded. Let me not be misunderstood: among the rules of the Polytechnique, duelling was strictly forbidden; and although numerous transgressions occurred, so determined was the head of the Government to put down the practice, that the individuals thus erring were either reduced in rank or their promotion stopped for a considerable period, while the personal displeasure of Greneral Bonaparte rarely failed to show itself with reference to them. Now, it was clear to me that some unknown friend, some secret well-wisher, had interested himself in my humble fate,--that I owed my newly acquired rank to his kindness and good offices. What, then, might I not be forfeiting by this unhappy rencontre? Was it not more than likely that such an instance of misconduct, the very day of my promotion, might determine the whole tenor of my future career? What misrepresentation might not gain currency about my conduct? These were sad reflections indeed, and every moment but increased them.

When I reached the college, I called on one of my friends; but not finding him in his quarters, I wrote a few lines, begging he would come over to me the moment he returned. This done, I sat down alone to think over my adventure, and devise if I could some means to prevent its publicity, or if not that, its being garbled and misstated. Hour after hour rolled past--my wandering thoughts took no note of time--and the deep-tolled bell of the Polytechnique struck eight before I was aware the day was nearly over. Nine was the hour mentioned on my card of invitation: it flashed suddenly on me. What was to be done? I had no uniform save that of the ecole. Such a costume in such a place would, I feared, be considered too ridiculous; yet to absent myself altogether was impossible. Never was I in such a dilemma. All my endeavors to rescue myself were fruitless; and at last, worn out with the conflict of my doubts and fears, I stepped into the fiacre and set out for the Palace.

CHAPTER XXIV. THE PAVILLON DE FLORE.

As my humble carriage slackened its pace to a walk on approaching the Place Carousel, I for the first time perceived that the open s.p.a.ce around was thronged with equipages, moving slowly along in line towards the gate of the Palace. A picket of dragoons was drawn up at the great archway, and mounted gendarmes rode up and down to preserve order in the crowd. Before me stretched the long facade of the Tuileries, now lighted up in its entire extent; the rich hangings and costly furniture could be seen even where I was.

What a sinking sense of shame overwhelmed me as I thought of my humble position amid that mighty concourse of all that was great and ill.u.s.trious in France! and how I shrunk within myself as I thought of the poor scholar of the Polytechnique--for such my dress, proclaimed me--mixing with the most distinguished diplomatists and generals of Europe! The rebuke I had met with from my colonel in the morning was still fresh in my recollection, and I dreaded something like a repet.i.tion of it.

"Oh, why had I not known that this was a grand reception?" was the ever-rising thought of my mind. My card of invitation said a soiree,--even that I might have dared: but here was a regular leve!

Already I was near enough to hear the names announced at the foot of the grand staircase, where amba.s.sadors, senators, ministers of state, and officers of the highest rank succeeded each other in quick succession.

My carriage stood now next but two. I was near enough to see the last arrival hand his card to the huissier in waiting, and hear his t.i.tle called out, "Le Ministre de la Guerre," when the person in the carriage before me cried to his coachman, "To the left,--the Pa villon de Flore;" and at the same moment the carriage turned from the line, and drove rapidly towards a distant wing of the Palace.

"Move up! move up!" shouted a dragoon. "Or are you for the soiree de Madame?"

"Yes, yes!" said I, hastily, as I heard his question.

"Follow that carriage, then," said he, pointing with his sabre; and in a moment we left the dense file, and followed the sounds of the retiring wheels towards a dark corner of the Palace, where a single lamp over a gate was the only light to guide us.

Never shall I forget the sense of relief I felt as I lay back in the carriage, and listened to the hum and din of the vast crowd growing each moment fainter. "Thank Heaven," said I, "it's no levee!" Scarce half a dozen equipages stood around the door as we drove up, and a single dragoon was the guard of honor.

"Whom shall I announce, sir?" said a huissier in black, whose manner was as deferential as though my appearance bespoke an amba.s.sador. I gave my name, and followed him up a wide stair, where the deep velvet carpet left no footfall audible. A large bronze candelabra, supporting a blaze of waxlights, diffused a light like day on every side. The doors opened before us as if by magic, and I found myself in an antechamber, where the huissier, repeating my name to another in waiting, retired. Pa.s.sing through this, we entered a small drawing-room, in which sat two persons engaged at a chess table, but who never looked up or noticed us as we proceeded. At last the two wings of a wide folding door were thrown open, and my name was announced in a low but audible voice.

The salon into which I now entered was a large and splendidly-furnished apartment, whose light, tempered by a species of abat-jour, gave a kind of soft mysterious effect to everything about, and made even the figures, as they sat in little groups, appear something almost dramatic in their character. The conversation, too, was maintained in a half-subdued tone,--a gentle murmur of voices, that, mingling with the swell of music in another and distant apartment, and the plash of a small fountain in a vase of goldfish in the room itself, made a strange but most pleasing a.s.semblage of sounds. Even in the momentary glance which, on entering, I threw around me, I perceived that no studied etiquette or courtly stateliness prevailed. The guests were disposed in every att.i.tude of lounging ease and careless abandon; and it was plain to see that all or nearly all about were intimates of the place.

As the door closed behind me, I stood half uncertain how to proceed.

Unhappily, I knew little of the habitudes of the great world, and every step I took was a matter of difficulty.

"I think you will find Madame Bonaparte in that room," said a middle-aged and handsome man, whose mild voice and gentle smile did much to set me at my ease. "But perhaps you don't know her."

I muttered something I meant to be a negative, to which he immediately replied,--

"Then let me present you. There is no ceremony here, and I shall be your groom of the chambers. But here she is. Madame la Consulesse, this young gentleman desires to make his respects."

"Ha! our friend of the Polytechnique,--Monsieur Burke, is it not?"

"Yes, Madame," said I, bowing low, and blus.h.i.+ng deeply as I recognized, in the splendidly-attired and beautiful person before me, the lady who so kindly held the water to my lips the day of my accident at the school.

"Why, they told me you were promoted,--a hussar, I think."

"Yes, Madame; but--but--"

"You are too fond of old a.s.sociations to part from them easily," said she, laughing. "Come here, Stephanie, and see a miracle of manhood, that could resist all the _clinquant_ of a hussar for the simple costume of the cole Militaire. Monsieur de Custine, this is my young friend of whom I told you the other day."

The gentleman, the same who had so kindly noticed me, bowed politely.