Mysteries of Paris
Chapter 108 : She was a very beautiful quadroon, whose story ran briefly thus: Owned by a Louisiana

She was a very beautiful quadroon, whose story ran briefly thus: Owned by a Louisiana planter, he had refused permission for her to marry another of his slaves, known as David, because he had, sultan-like, set his own choice upon her. David, by intelligence, and a long stay in France, had attained the position of surgeon on the plantation, and resisted his master with all the strength of his love for the girl. He was flogged, and Cecily locked up. At this juncture, Rudolph's yacht was off the plantation. He heard the story, and, landing in the night with a boat's crew, carried off David and Cecily in the planter's teeth, leaving him a large sum in indemnification. The slaves were wedded in France, but David won no happiness. He became Rudolph's physician-in-chief, worthily filling the post; but Cecily's three-part-white blood revolted at her union with a negro, and she flung herself into the first arms open to her. Her life was a series of scandals, so that David would have killed her; but Rudolph induced him to prefer her life imprisonment in Germany. Thence she is now brought.

Having arrived the evening previous, this creature, as handsome as she was perverted, as enchanting as she was dangerous, had received detailed instructions from Baron de Graun.

It will be remembered that after the last interview between Rudolph and Mrs. Pipelet, the latter having adroitly proposed Cecily to Mrs.

Seraphin to replace Louise Morel as servant to the notary, the housekeeper had willingly received her overtures, and promised to speak on the subject to Jacques Ferrand, which she had done in terms the most favorable to Cecily, the very same morning of the day on which she (Mrs. Seraphin) had been drowned at Ravageurs' Island.

Rudolph went to learn the result of Cecily's offer. To his great astonishment, on entering the lodge, he found, although it was eleven o'clock in the morning, Pipelet in bed, and Anastasia standing beside him, offering him drink.

Alfred, whose forehead and eyes disappeared under a formidable cotton cap, not answering Anastasia, she concluded he was asleep, and closed the curtains of his bed. On turning she saw Rudolph. Immediately she carried, according to custom, the back of her open left hand against her wig.

"Your servant, my prince of lodgers. You find me overturned, amazed, grown thin! There are famous doings in the house, without counting that Alfred has been in bed since yesterday."

"And what is the matter?"

"Why ask?"

"Why not?"

"Always the same. The monster yearns more and more after Alfred; he alarms me so that I do not know what more to do."

"Cabrion again?"

"Again."

"He is the devil, then!"

"I shall begin to think so, M. Rudolph; for the blackguard always guesses when I am out. Hardly do I turn on my heels than he is here on the back of my darling, who does not know how to defend himself any more than a child. Yesterday again, while I was gone to M. Ferrand's, the notary's--there is the place to hear news--"

"And Cecily?" said Rudolph hastily. "I came to know--"

"Stop, my prince of lodgers; do not fl.u.s.ter me. I have so many things to tell you that I shall lose myself if you break my thread."

"Well, I listen."

"In the first place, as concerns this house; just imagine that yesterday they came and arrested Mother Burette."

"The p.a.w.nbroker on the second floor?"

"Yes. It appears that she had many droll trades besides that of a p.a.w.nbroker! She was a fencess, melter-downess, shoplifteress, smasheress, forgeress, coineress, everything that rhymes with dishonestness. The worst of all is, that her old beau, Bras-Rouge, is also arrested. I told you there was a real earthquake in the house."

"What! Bras-Rouge also arrested?"

"Yes; in his tavern on the Champs-Elysees. All are boxed, even to his son Tortillard, the wicked little cripple. They say there has been a whole heap of murderers there; that they were a band of a.s.sa.s.sins; that La Chouette, one of the friends of old Burette, has been strangled; and that if help had not arrived in time, Mathieu the diamond broker would have been murdered. Ain't this news?"

"Bras-Rouge arrested! La Chouette dead!" said Rudolph to himself, with astonishment. "Poor Fleur-de-Marie is avenged."

"So much for this. Without excepting the new infamy of Cabrion, I am going at once to finish with that brigand. You will see what impudence! When old Burette was arrested, and we knew that Bras-Rouge, our landlord, was trapped, I said to my old darling, 'You must trot right off to the proprietor, and tell him that Bras-Rouge is locked up.' Alfred set out. At the end of two hours he came back to me, in such a state--white as a sheet, and blowing like an ox!"

"What was the matter?"

"You shall see, M. Rudolph. Only fancy, that six steps from here is a large white wall; my darling, on leaving the house, looked by chance on this wall; what does he see written there with charcoal, in large letters? 'Pipelet & Cabrion!'--the two names joined by a short _and_. This mark of union with this scoundrel sticks in his stomach the most. That began to upset him; ten steps further, what does he see on the great door of the Temple? 'Pipelet & Cabrion!'

always with the sign of union. On he goes; at each step, M. Rudolph, he saw written these cursed names on the walls of the houses, on the doors, everywhere, 'Pipelet & Cabrion.' He began to see stars; he thought every one was looking at him; he pulled his hat down to his nose, he was so much ashamed. He went on the boulevard, thinking that Cabrion had confined his indecencies to the Rue du Temple. All along the boulevard, on each place where there was room to write, always 'Pipelet & Cabrion,' to the death! Finally, the poor dear man arrived at the proprietor's so bewildered, that, after having stuttered and stammered for a quarter of an hour, he could not understand one word of all that Alfred said; so he sent him back, calling him an old imbecile, and told him to send me to explain the thing. Alfred retired, coming back by another route, in order to avoid the names he had seen written on the walls. But--"

"Pipelet and Cabrion that road too?"

"As you say, my prince of lodgers. In this way the poor dear man arrived, stupefied, amazed, wis.h.i.+ng to exile himself. He told me his story; I calmed him as well as I could. I left him, and went with Cecily to the notary's. You think this is all? Oh, no! Hardly was my back turned than Cabrion, who had watched my departure, had the impudence to send here two great hussies who attacked Alfred. My hair stands on an end. I will tell you all this directly. Let us finish with the notary. I set out, then, in a coach with Cecily, as you are advised. She wore her pretty German peasant's costume, 'as she had just arrived, and had not time to change it,' as I was to tell M.

Ferrand. You will believe me, if you please, my prince of lodgers, I have seen many pretty girls; I have seen myself in my springtime; but never have I seen (myself included) a young person who could hold a candle to Cecily. She has, above all, in the look of her large, wicked, black eyes, something--I don't know what; but, for sure, there is something striking. What eyes!

"Alfred is not tender, but the first time that she looked at him be became as red as a carrot; for nothing in the world would he have looked a second time--he wriggled on his chair for an hour afterward as if he had been seated on a thorn; he told me afterward that the look had recalled to his mind all the histories of that impudent Bradamanti about the savagesses, which made him blush so much, my old prude of an Alfred."

"But the notary? the notary?"

"Yes, M. Rudolph. It was about seven in the evening when we reached M.

Ferrand's; I told the porter to tell his master that Mrs. Pipelet was there with the servant whom old Seraphin had spoken about, and told me to bring. Hereupon the porter uttered a sigh, and asked me if I knew what had happened to Mrs. Seraphin. I said no. Oh, M. Rudolph, here is another earthquake!"

"What now?"

"Old Seraphin was drowned in an excursion to the country which she had made with one of her relations."

"Drowned! A party to the country in winter?" said Rudolph, surprised.

"Yes, M. Rudolph, drowned. It astonishes me more than it grieves me; for since the misfortune of poor Louise, whom she denounced, I hated Seraphin. I said to myself, 'She is drowned, is she; after all, it won't kill me.' That's my character."

"And M. Ferrand?"

"The porter at first said he thought I could not see his master, and begged me to wait in the lodge, but at the end of a moment he returned for me; we crossed the court, and entered a chamber. There was only a single candle burning. The notary was seated at the chimney-corner, where smoked the remains of a firebrand. What a hovel! I have never seen M. Ferrand. Isn't he horrid? Here is another one who might in vain have offered me the throne of Araby to prove false to Alfred."

"And did he appear struck with the beauty of Cecily?"

"Can any one know, with his green spectacles? such an old sacristan ought to be no judge of women. Yet when we both entered, he made a kind of start from his chair; it was, doubtless, astonishment at seeing the Alsatian costume of Cecily; for she had (only ten million times better) the air of one of those little broom girls, with her short petticoats, and her pretty legs in blue stockings with red clocks! my eye, what calves! and such slender ankles! and the little foot! the notary was bewildered at seeing her."

"It was doubtless the strange costume which astonished him."

"Must think so; but the funny moment drew near. Happily I remembered the maxim you taught me, M. Rudolph; it was my salvation."

"What maxim?"

"You know: 'Hide your desire if you want it granted.' Then I said to myself, I must rid my prince of lodgers of his German, by placing her with the master of Louise; and I said to the notary, without giving him time to draw breath: 'Pardon me, sir, if my niece comes dressed in the costume of her country; but she has just arrived: she has no other clothes than these, and I have no means of getting her others, as it would hardly be worth while; for we came only to thank you for having said to Mrs. Seraphin that you would consent to see Cecily, from the good recommendations I had given her: yet I do not think she can suit, sir.'"

"Very well, Mrs. Pipelet."

"'Why will your niece not suit me?' said the notary, who, seated in the chimney-corner, seemed to look at us from under his spectacles.

'Because Cecily begins to be home-sick, sir. She has only been here three days, yet she wishes to return, even if she has to beg her way back, and sell brooms like her countrywomen.' 'But you, her relation, will not suffer this?' 'I am her relation, it is true; but she is an orphan; she is twenty years old, and she is mistress of her own actions.' 'Bah! bah! mistress of her own actions; at her age she should obey her relation,' answered he, roughly.

"Hereupon Cecily began to cry and tremble, pressing against me; the notary made her afraid, very likely."

"And Ferrand?"