The Wandering Jew
Chapter 141 : "Alas! I do not know her--but a young fellow, that I like excessively--"&quo

"Alas! I do not know her--but a young fellow, that I like excessively--"

"Jacques Rennepont?"

"Otherwise called Sleepinbuff. He is now in prison for debt," sighed Rodin. "I saw him yesterday."

"You saw him yesterday?--how strange!" said Rose-Pompon, clapping her hands. "Quick! quick!--come over to Philemon's, to give Cephyse news of her lover. She is so uneasy about him."

"My dear child, I should like to give her good news of that worthy fellow, whom I like in spite of his follies, for who has not been guilty of follies?" added Rodin, with indulgent good-nature.

"To be sure," said Rose-Pompon, twisting about as if she still wore the costume of a debardeur.

"I will say more," added Rodin: "I love him because of his follies; for, talk as we may, my dear child, there is always something good at bottom, a good heart, or something, in those who spend generously their money for other people."

"Well, come! you are a very good sort of a man," said Rose-Pompon, enchanted with Rodin's philosophy. "But why will you not come and see Cephyse, and talk to her of Jacques?"

"Of what use would it be to tell her what she knows already--that Jacques is in prison? What I should like, would be to get the worthy fellow out of his sc.r.a.pe."

"Oh, sir! only do that, only get Jacques out of prison," cried Rose Pompon, warmly, "and we will both give you a kiss--me and Cephyse!"

"It would be throwing kisses away, dear little madcap!" said Rodin, smiling. "But be satisfied, I want no reward to induce me to do good when I can."

"Then you hope to get Jacques out of prison?"

Rodin shook his head, and answered with a grieved and disappointed air.

"I did hope it. Certainly, I did hope it; but now all is changed."

"How's that?" asked Rose-Pompon, with surprise.

"That foolish joke of calling me M. Rodin may appear very amusing to you, my dear child. I understand it, you being only an echo. Some one has said to you: 'Go and tell M. Charlemagne that he is one M. Rodin.

That will be very funny.'"

"Certainly, I should never myself have thought of calling you M. Rodin.

One does not invent such names," answered Rose-Pompon.

"Well! that person with his foolish jokes, has done, without knowing it, a great injury to Jacques Rennepont."

"What! because I called you Rodin instead of Charlemagne?" cried Rose Pompon, much regretting the pleasantry which she had carried on at the instigation of Ninny Moulin. "But really, sir," she added, "what can this joke have to do with the service that you were, about to render Jacques?"

"I am not at liberty to tell you, my child. In truth, I am very sorry for poor Jacques. Believe me, I am; but do let me pa.s.s.

"Listen to me, sir, I beg," said Rose-Pompon; "if I told you the name of the person who told me to call you Rodin, would you interest yourself again for Jacques?"

"I do not wish to know any one's secrets, my dear child. In all this, you have been the echo of persons who are, perhaps, very dangerous; and, notwithstanding the interest I feel for Jacques Rennepont, I do not wish, you understand, to make myself enemies. Heaven forbid!"

Rose-Pompon did not at all comprehend Rodin's fears, and upon this he had counted; for after a second's reflection, the young girl resumed: "Well, sir--this is too deep for me; I do not understand it. All I know is, that I am truly sorry if I have injured a good young man by a mere joke. I will tell you exactly how it happened. My frankness may be of some use."

"Frankness will often clear up the most obscure matters," said Rodin, sententiously.

"After all," said Rose-Pompon, "it's Ninny's fault. Why does he tell me nonsense, that might injure poor Cephyse's lover? You see, sir, it happened in this way. Ninny Moulin who is fond of a joke, saw you just now in the street. The portress told him that your name was Charlemagne.

He said to me: 'No; his name is Rodin. We must play him a trick. Go to his room, Rose-Pompon, knock at the door, and call him M. Rodin. You will see what a rum face he will make.' I promised Ninny Moulin not to name him; but I do it, rather than run the risk of injuring Jacques."

At Ninny Moulin's name Rodin had not been able to repress a movement of surprise. This pamphleteer, whom he had employed to edit the "Neighborly Love," was not personally formidable; but, being fond of talking in his drink, he might become troublesome, particularly if Rodin, as was probable, had often to visit this house, to execute his project upon Sleepinbuff, through the medium of the Baccha.n.a.l Queen. The socius resolved, therefore, to provide against this inconvenience.

"So, my dear child," said he to Rose-Pompon, "it is a M. Desmoulins that persuaded you to play off this silly joke?"

"Not Desmoulins, but Dumoulin," corrected Rose. "He writes in the pewholders' papers, and defends the saints for money; for, if Ninny Moulin is a saint, his patrons are Saint Drinkard and Saint Flashette, as he himself declares."

"This gentleman appears to be very gay."

"Oh! a very good fellow."

"But stop," resumed Rodin, appearing to recollect himself; "ain't he a man about thirty-six or forty, fat, with a ruddy complexion?"

"Ruddy as a gla.s.s of red wine," said Rose-Pompon, "and with a pimpled nose like a mulberry."

"That's the man--M. Dumoulin. Oh! in that case, I am quite satisfied, my dear child. The jest no longer makes me uneasy; for M. Dumoulin is a very worthy man--only perhaps a little too fond of his joke."

"Then, sir, you will try to be useful to Jacques? The stupid pleasantry of Ninny Moulin will not prevent you?"

"I hope not."

"But I must not tell Ninny Moulin that you know it was he who sent me to call you M. Rodin--eh, sir?"

"Why not? In every case, my dear child, it is always better to speak frankly the truth."

"But, sir, Ninny Moulin so strongly recommended me not to name him to you--"

"If you have named him, it is from a very good motive; why not avow it? However, my dear child, this concerns you, not me. Do as you think best."

"And may I tell Cephyse of your good intentions towards Jacques?"

"The truth, my dear child, always the truth. One need never hesitate to say what is."

"Poor Cephyse! how happy she will be!" cried Rose-Pompon, cheerfully; "and the news will come just in time."

"Only you must not exaggerate; I do not promise positively to get this good fellow out of prison; I say, that I will do what I can. But what I promise positively is--for, since the imprisonment of poor Jacques, your friend must be very much straitened--"

"Alas, sir!"

"What I promise positively is some little a.s.sistance which your friend will receive to-day, to enable her to live honestly; and if she behaves well--hereafter--why, hereafter, we shall see."

"Oh, sir! you do not know how welcome will be your a.s.sistance to poor Cephyse! One might fancy you were her actual good angel. Faith! you may call yourself Rodin, or Charlemagne; all I know is, that you are a nice, sweet--"

"Come, come, do not exaggerate," said Rodin; "say a good sort of old fellow; nothing more, my dear child. But see how things fall out, sometimes! Who could have told me, when I heard you knock at my door--which, I must say, vexed me a great deal--that it was a pretty little neighbor of mine, who under the pretext of playing off a joke, was to put me in the way of doing a good action? Go and comfort your friend; this evening she will receive some a.s.sistance; and let us have hope and confidence. Thanks be, there are still some good people in the world!"

"Oh, sir! you prove it yourself."

"Not at all! The happiness of the old is to see the young happy."