Jack Part 3

"23 Avenue Montaigne, in the best quarter of Paris," said the prospectus. And no one can deny that the Avenue Montaigne is well situated in the Champs Elysees, but it has an incongruous unfinished aspect, as of a road merely sketched and not completed.

By the side of the fine hotels with their plate-gla.s.s windows hung with silken draperies, stand the houses of workmen, whence issue the noise of hammers and grating of saws. One part of the Faubourg seems also to be relinquished to gardens after the style of Mabille.

At the time of which I speak, and possibly now? from the avenue ran two or three narrow lanes whose sordid aspect offered a strange contrast to the superb buildings near them. One of these lanes opened at the number 23, and announced on a gilded sign swinging in the pa.s.sage, that the Moronval Academy was there situated. This sign, however, once pa.s.sed, it seemed to you that you were taken back forty years, and to the other end of Paris. The black mud, the stream in the centre of the lane, the reverberations from the high walls, the drinking-shops built from old planks, all seemed to belong to the past. From every nook and cranny, from stairs and balconies, whence fluttered linen hung to dry, streamed forth a crowd of children escorted by an army of lean and hungry cats.

It was amazing to see that so small a spot could accommodate such a number of persons. English grooms in shabby liveries, worn-out jockeys, and dilapidated body-servants, seemed there to congregate. To these must be added the horde of workpeople who returned at sunset; those who let chairs, or tiny carriages drawn by goats; dog-fanciers, beggars of all sorts, dwarfs from the hippodrome and their microscopic ponies. Picture all these to yourself, and you will have some idea of this singular spot--so near to the Champs Elysees that the tops of the green trees were to be seen, and the roar of carriages was but faintly subdued.

It was in this place that the Moronval Academy was situated. Two or three times during the day a tall, thin mulatto made his appearance in the street. He wore on his head a broad-brimmed Quaker hat placed so far back that it resembled a halo; long hair swept over his shoulders, and he crossed the street with a timid, terrified air, followed by a troop of boys of every shade of complexion varying from a coffee tint to bright copper, and thence to profound black. These lads wore the coa.r.s.e uniform of the school, and had an unfed and uncared-for aspect.

The princ.i.p.al of the Moronval Academy himself took his pupils--his children of the sun, as he called them--out for their daily walks; and the comings and goings of this singular party gave the finis.h.i.+ng touch of oddity to the appearance of the _Pa.s.sage des Douze Maisons_.

Most a.s.suredly, had Madame de Barancy herself brought her child to the Academy, the sight of the place would have terrified her, and she would never have consented to leave her darling there. But her visit to the Jesuits had been so unfortunate, her reception so different from that which she had antic.i.p.ated, that the poor creature, timid at heart and easily disconcerted, feared some new humiliation, and delegated to Madame Constant, her maid, the task of placing Jack at the school chosen for him by her servants.

It was one cold, gray morning that Ida's carriage drew up in front of the gilt sign of the Moronval Academy. The lane was deserted, but the walls and the signs all had a damp and greenish look, as if a recent inundation had there left its traces. Constant stepped forward bravely, leading the child by one hand, and carrying an umbrella in the other. At the twelfth house she halted. It was at the end of the lane just where it closes, save for a narrow pa.s.sage into La Rue Marbouf, between two high walls on which grated the dry branches of old shrubbery and ancient trees. A certain cleanliness indicated the vicinity of the aristocratic inst.i.tution; and the oyster-sh.e.l.ls, old sardine-boxes, and empty bottles were carefully swept away from the green door, that was as solid and distrustful in aspect as if it led to a prison or a convent.

The profound silence that reigned was suddenly broken by a vigorous a.s.sault of the bell by Madame Constant. Jack felt chilled to the heart by the sound of this bell, and the sparrows on the one tree in the garden fluttered away in sudden fright.

No one opened the door, but a panel was pushed away, and behind the heavy grating appeared a black face, with protuberant lips and astonished eyes.

"Is this the Moronval Academy?" said Madame de Barancy's imposing maid.

The woolly head now gave place to one of a different type,--a Tartar, possibly,--with eyes like slits, high cheekbones, and narrow, pointed head. Then a Creole, with a pale yellow skin, was also inspired by curiosity and peered out. But the door still remained closed, and Madame Constant was losing her temper, when a sharp voice cried from a distance,--

"Well do you never mean to open that door, idiots?"

Then they all began to whisper; keys were turned, bolts were pushed back, oaths were muttered, kicks were administered, and after many ineffectual struggles the door was finally opened; but Jack saw only the retreating forms of the schoolboys, who ran off in as much fright as did the sparrows just before.

In the doorway stood a tall, colored man, whose large white cravat made his face look still more black. M. Moronval begged Madame Constant to walk in, offered her his arm, and conducted her through a garden, large enough, but dismal with the dried leaves and debris of winter storms.

Several scattered buildings occupied the place of former flower-beds.

The academy, it seemed, consisted of several old buildings altered by Moronval to suit his own needs.

In one of the alleys they met a small negro with a broom and a pail. He respectfully stood aside as they pa.s.sed, and when M. Moronval said, in a low voice, "A fire in the drawing-room," the boy looked as much startled as if he had been told that the drawing-room itself was burning.

The order was by no means an unnecessary one. Nothing could have been colder than this great room, whose waxed floor looked like a frozen, slippery lake. The furniture itself had the same polar aspect, enveloped in coverings not made for it. But Madame Constant cared little for the naked walls and the discomforts of the apartment; she was occupied with the impression she was making, and the part she was playing, that of a lady of importance. She was quite condescending, and felt sure that children must be well off in this place, the rooms were so s.p.a.cious,--just as well, in fact, as if in the country.

"Precisely," said Moronval, hesitatingly.

The black boy kindled the fire, and M. Moronval looked for a chair for his distinguished visitor. Then Madame Moronval, who had been summoned, made her appearance. She was a small woman, very small, with a long, pale face all forehead and chin. She carried herself with great erectness, as if reluctant to lose an inch of her height, and perhaps to disguise a trifling deformity of the shoulders; but she had a kind and womanly expression, and drawing the child towards her, admired his long curls and his eyes.

"Yes, his eyes are like his mother's," said Moronval, coolly, examining Madame Constant as he spoke.

She made no attempt to disclaim the honor; but Jack cried out in indignation, "She is not my mamma! She is my nurse!"

Upon which Madame Moronval repented of her urbanity, and became more reserved. Fortunately her husband saw matters in a different light, and concluded that a servant trusted to the extent of placing her master's children at school, must be a person of some importance in the house.

Madame Constant soon convinced him of the correctness of this conclusion. She spoke loudly and decidedly--stated that the choice of a school had been left entirely to her own discretion, and each time that she p.r.o.nounced the name of her mistress, it was with a patronizing air that drove poor Jack to the verge of despair.

The terms of the school were spoken of: three thousand francs per annum was named as the amount asked; and then Moronval launched forth on the superior advantages of his inst.i.tution; it combined everything needed for the development of both soul and body. The pupils accompanied their masters to the theatre and into the world. Instead of making of the boys intrusted to his charge mere machines of Greek and Latin, he sought to develop in them every good quality, to prepare them for their duties in every position in life, and to surround them with those family influences of which they had too many of them been totally deprived. But their mental instruction was by no means neglected; quite the contrary.

The most eminent men, savans and artists, did not shrink from the philanthropic duty of instructing the young in this remarkable inst.i.tution, and were employed as professors of sciences, history, music, and literature. The French language was made a matter of especial importance, and the p.r.o.nunciation was taught by a new and infallible method of which Madame Moronval was the author. Besides all this, every week there was a public lecture, to which friends and relatives of the pupils were invited, and where they could thoroughly convince themselves of the excellence of the system pursued at the Moronval Academy.

This long tirade of the princ.i.p.al, who needed, possibly, more than any one else the advantages of lessons in p.r.o.nunciation from his wife, was achieved more quickly for the reason that, in Creole fas.h.i.+on, he swallowed half his words, and left out many of his consonants.

It mattered not, however, for Madame Constant was positively dazzled.

The question of terms, of course, was nothing to her, she said; but it was necessary that the child should receive an aristocratic and finished education.

"Unquestionably," said Madame Moronval, growing still more erect.

Here her husband added that he only received into his establishment strangers of great distinction, scions of great families, n.o.bles, princes, and the like. At that very time he had under his roof a child of royal birth,--a son of the king of Dahomey. At this the enthusiasm of Madame Constant burst all boundaries.

"A king's son! You hear, Master Jack--you will be educated with the son of a king!"

"Yes," resumed the instructor, gravely; "I have been intrusted by his Dahomian Majesty with the education of his royal Highness, and I believe that I shall be able to make of him a most remarkable man."

What was the matter with the black boy, who was still at work at the fire, that he shook so convulsively, and made such a hideous noise with the shovel and tongs?

M. Moronval continued. "I hope, and Madame Moronval hopes, that the young king, when on the throne of his ancestors, will remember the good advice and the n.o.ble examples afforded him by his teachers in Paris, the happy years spent with them, their indefatigable cares and a.s.siduous efforts on his behalf."

Here Jack was surprised to see the black boy kneeling before the chimney, turn toward him, and shake his woolly head violently, while his mouth opened wide in silent but furious denial.

Did he wish to say that his royal Highness would never remember the good lessons received at the academy, or did he mean that he would never forget them? But what could this poor black boy know about it?

Madame Constant announced, in pompous terms, that she was willing to pay a quarter in advance. Moronval waved his hand condescendingly, as if to say, "There is no need of that."

But the old house told a far different tale,--the shabby furniture, the dismantled walls, the worn carpets, as well as the threadbare coat of Moronval himself, and the s.h.i.+ny scant robe of the little woman with the long chin.

But that which proved the fact more than anything else was the eagerness with which the pair went to find in another room the superb register in which they inscribed the ages of the pupils, their names, and the date of their entrance into the academy.

While these important facts were being written, the black boy remained crouched in front of the fire, which seemed quite useless while he absorbed all its heat. The chimney, which at first had refused to consume the least bit of wood, as stomachs after too long fasting reject food, had now revived, and a beautiful red flame was to be seen. The negro, with his head on his hands, his eyes fixed as in a trance, looked like a little black silhouette against a scarlet background. His mouth opened in intense delight, and his eyes were perfectly round. He seemed to be drinking in the heat and the light with the greatest avidity, while outside the snow had begun to fall silently and slowly.

Jack was very sad, for he fancied that Moronval had a wicked look, notwithstanding his honeyed words. And, then, in this strange house the poor child felt himself utterly lost and desolate, discarded by his mother, and rendered still more miserable by the vague idea that these colored pupils, from every corner of the globe, had brought with them an atmosphere of unhappiness and of restlessness. He remembered, too, the Jesuits' college, so fresh and sweet; the fine trees, the green-houses, the whole appearance of refinement, and the kind hand of the Superior laid for a moment upon his head.

Ah! why had he not remained there? And as this occurred to him, he said to himself, that perhaps they would not have him here either. He looked toward the table. There by the big register the husband and wife were busy whispering with Madame Constant. They looked at him, and he caught a word now and then. The little woman sighed, and twice Jack heard her say, as did the priest,--"Poor child!"

She also pitied him. And why? What was he, then, that they pitied him?

Jack asked himself.

This compa.s.sion that others felt for him weighed sorely on his little heart. He could have wept with shame, for in his childish mind he attributed this disdainful compa.s.sion to some peculiarity of costume, his bare legs, or his long curls.

But he thought of his mother's despair. Should he meet with another refusal? Suddenly he saw Constant draw her purse and hand to the princ.i.p.al some notes and gold pieces. Yes, they were going to keep him. He was delighted, poor child, for he little knew that the great misfortune of his life was now inaugurated there in that room.

At this moment a tremendous ba.s.s voice came up from the garden below, singing the chorus of an old song. The windows of the room had not recovered from the shock, when a stout, short man, in a velvet coat, close-cut hair, and heavy beard, burst into the room.

"Hallo!" he cried, in a tone of comic astonishment, "a fire in the parlor? What a luxury!" and he drew a long breath. In fact, the new-comer was in the habit of drawing long breaths at the end of each sentence, a habit he had acquired in singing; and these breaths were almost like the roaring of a wild beast. Catching sight of the strangers and the pile of money, he stopped short with the words on his lips.

Delight and surprise succeeded each other on his countenance, whose muscles seemed habituated to all facial contortions.

Moronval turned gravely toward the waiting woman. "M. Laba.s.sandre, of the Imperial Academy of Music, our Professor of Music." Laba.s.sandre bowed once, twice, three times, and then, by way of restoring his self-possession, and putting matters at once on a pleasant footing for all parties, administered a kick to the black boy, who did not seem at all astonished, but picked himself up and disappeared from the room.

The door again opened, and two persons entered. One was very ugly--a mean face without a beard, huge spectacles with convex gla.s.ses, and wearing an overcoat b.u.t.toned to the chin, which bore all up and down the front too visible indications of-the awkwardness of a near-sighted man.