Chapter IV: Scenes at the Masquerade

A few moments after the tall gentleman named Beauregard had left the box where the pearl-gray domino and her friend were seated, a Spaniard entered the ball-room, arm-in-arm with a short young man with a long, thin nose. The reader will at once recognize Chamoureau and Freluchon. The widower wore a costume resplendent with spangles and gold braid. His cherry-colored doublet was heavily trimmed with very rich embroidery, his white satin shortclothes, slashed with red, were decorated with spangles and bows; a gold-fringed sash confined his waist; the flaps of his huge yellow top-boots fell a little too near his ankles, his leg being too deficient in calf to hold them in place. A large ruff about his neck did duty as a cravat; over his shoulder was thrown a small light-blue cloak, lined with white satin; and lastly, he wore on his head a little velvet cap, also blue, covered with false jewels, and surmounted by two enormous white plumes which drooped over the cavalier's left shoulder. To complete his disguise, Chamoureau had donned a brown wig with long curls falling over his neck. He had covered his face with rouge, and, in addition, he wore a false nose to which a pair of moustaches was attached, reaching from ear to ear.

All this formed such a unique whole that everyone in the room turned or stopped short, in order to have a longer look at the Spaniard; and Chamoureau, overjoyed by the effect he produced, and convinced that everybody considered him magnificent, said in Freluchon's ear:

"How they stare at me! eh? I am very glad I chose this costume. I must be superb; I read admiration in every eye! Say, Freluchon, am I not superb?"

"It is a fact that you are well worth looking at; if you should make them pay ten sous each, it would be none too much."

"Oh! you are always joking! But I don't see so rich a costume as mine in the whole place; I am covered with spangles."

"It's enough to make one's eyes ache to look at you; you produce the same effect as the sun!"

"Do my plumes float gracefully?"

"Like a swan on a lake."

"Is my cap well placed?"

"Like a vane on a steeple."

"There's nothing wrong but these infernal boots, which keep falling; they are too big."

"It may be that your legs are too much like spindles."

"What a pity to be obliged to wear a false nose with all this!"

"Why is it a pity?"

"Dear me! it's easy to see that. As I am the possessor of rather an attractive face, if I hadn't this false nose, I should be even more fascinating in this costume, and I am sure that I should make conquests in swarms."

"By Jove! that's true; I entirely forgot that you were a handsome man!"

"Still, my wife used to repeat it often enough: 'Ah! how handsome he is, my Chamoureau!'"

"Yes, to the tune of the _Postilion de Longjumeau_.--But after all, you know, you're under no compulsion to keep your false nose on, if you want to take it off."

"Oh, no! the deuce! someone might recognize me then, and I should be compromised!"

"Try to make a conquest with your nose."

"That's quite possible--Damn these boots!"

And Chamoureau halted to raise the flaps.

"So you are inclined to make a little acquaintance, my inconsolable widower?" asked Edmond, who was walking beside Freluchon and had overheard the Spaniard's last words.

"Oh! my dear Monsieur Edmond," he replied, after adjusting his boots, "you will understand that my heart, my poor heart, will have no part in it! Henceforth nothing will ever touch that; it is dead to love. Eléonore has carried with her all the sentiment it could possibly contain--dear Eléonore!"

"Are you going to shed tears, Chamoureau? they will spoil your rouge."

"No, no, I said that just as I would have said anything else."

At that moment a man dressed as a Swiss woman, with long locks hanging down his back and a number of little brooms in his hand, halted in front of Chamoureau, crying:

"Ah! my hearties! what do I see? A sunbeam disguised as a Spaniard! How brilliant it is! how it gleams! Are you just from Peru, my ducky? It is at the very least _Le Cidre_ or Gusman with a sheep's foot, who knows no obstacle! Isn't he fine, the _coco_! But while you had the cash, Gringalet, you should have bought some calves, for you lack 'em altogether! and your parapetted boots will fall on the floor!"

The crowd had stopped and formed a circle to listen to the Swiss woman who had attacked the Spaniard.

Chamoureau, being rather disconcerted, began by making sure that his false nose was secure, then muttered:

"If I have no calves, it's fair to presume that I don't care for them."

"How now! is that all you've got to say for yourself, you poor thing? Did you spend all your wit to buy your costume? What a simple air the great clown has! He must be some keeper of turkeys who's been dismissed, and is entirely out of his element when he's no longer surrounded by his flock."

Chamoureau, sorely vexed to be called a keeper of turkeys, retorted sourly:

"Since when have the Swiss been fishwomen, and presumed to insult people like this?"

"Bravo, Chamoureau!" said Freluchon, "that's not bad; go on; drive the nail home!"

"Since they have sold little brooms for flies. Ah! so you're getting angry, Rodrique!--Come, Rodrique, have you any pluck? We'll fight a duel, I with my broom and you with your nose; is it a bargain? You'll have the advantage, as your nose is longer than my broom."

The roars of laughter from the crowd increased Chamoureau's vexation; he hastily dropped Freluchon's arm, for he was laughing louder than the rest, and gliding into a throng of masks, tried to overtake Edmond, who was hurrying after a little _débardeur_ in whom he fancied that he recognized his grisette Amélia. As he was not at all desirous to have Chamoureau always hanging on his arm, he said to him:

"Why did you leave Freluchon?"

"Because he laughed like a fool at the absurd nonsense that a man dressed as a Swiss woman has been spouting at me for the last few minutes; he is a low creature and said the coarsest things to me. The blood was beginning to go to my head, and I left the place, because I might have allowed my anger to carry me beyond bounds."

"For heaven's sake, my dear Monsieur Chamoureau, do you think it necessary to take offence at all the nonsense maskers say to you? If you do, you ought not to come to the ball, and above all things you shouldn't disguise yourself."

"That's so, of course; you are quite right. I was wrong to attach any importance to that foolish talk, it's a Carnival scene and nothing more. Still, I have an idea that Freluchon knew that Swiss woman.--My nose makes me terribly warm, especially because of the moustaches."

"Take them off."

"No, I'm afraid of being recognized.--Drat these boots!--there are some very pretty women here--they're too large, they'll fall down over my heels, and I shall end by walking on them."

"Take them off."

"What's that? you want me to take off my boots, and walk about in my stockings?"

"Why, yes, rather than be discommoded."

"I am not discommoded, for I dance in them."

"What are you complaining about, then?"

"My dear Monsieur Edmond, it seems to me that you don't listen very closely to what I say; you're not interested in our conversation; are you looking for someone here?"

"Parbleu! at a masked ball one should always be looking for someone."

"Ah! indeed! well, that is an idea; but who in the devil is there for me to look for?"

"I thought that I recognized Amélia in a pretty little _débardeur_ who ran away from me. Yes, it must have been she."

"Who's Amélia?"

"A very pretty flower-maker; an animated, saucy face, eyes full of fire, a charming figure, and nineteen years at most."

"Fichtre! how exactly that would meet my views--longing to love, as I do; for at my age, you understand, it makes no difference how much a man may suffer from grief and regret, nature, powerful, fruitful nature always cries out within us and makes us understand that we are not on earth to give all our thoughts to the dead.--Ah! there goes a domino who looked into the very whites of my eyes. What a look! there were a great many things in that look.--We were saying that your Amélia is very attractive, and only nineteen; is she free?"

"Yes, since she left me."

"How long since you parted?"

"This morning."

"That's not long; so it's to be hoped that she hasn't replaced you yet."

"I wouldn't swear to it."

"If she is still free, and we find her, will you permit me to apply for the vacancy?"

"I permit you to do whatever you choose, absolutely."

"Ah! you're very good, on my word! you're not like Freluchon, who will never turn his ex-mistresses over to me; and yet it seems to me that he owes me that much.--A little _débardeur_, you say? what color? what sort of head-dress?"

Edmond, who was tired of Chamoureau's company and had been trying for several minutes to devise some way of getting rid of him, suddenly exclaimed:

"Did you hear that pink domino who just passed us?"

"No; what did she say?"

"She said to the shepherdess on her arm: 'That Spaniard yonder has turned my head. I tell you, my dear, I'd like to catch him!'"

"Really! you heard that?"

"And the shepherdess replied: 'Very well! speak to him, puzzle him.'

"'Oh! I don't dare, my dear.'"

"She said she didn't dare, eh? Well, I will dare. Where is this pink domino?"

"Look--over yonder, near the Polichinelle. Go quickly, or you'll lose her."

Chamoureau voluntarily dropped Edmond's arm, to run after the person in a pink domino whom he had pointed out.

Having thus rid himself of the widower, young Edmond thought of nothing but finding his last mistress, with whom he was still in love, probably because she had ceased to run after him. Only that morning he had seen Amélia, and they had been on the best possible terms; so that if she avoided him now, it could only be because Freluchon had refused her friend Henriette the money she asked him to lend her.

Why should she espouse Henriette's quarrel? Still, as she lived with her friend, when the latter was obliged to quit her domicile, Mademoiselle Amélia also was turned into the street.

Edmond said all this to himself as he glided through the crowd, running after every woman he saw in a _débardeur's_ costume. He caught one by the arm, but saw that she was not the person he sought, just as she said to him:

"If you'll treat me to supper, I'll stay with you--if not--no, thanks!"

"I would gladly invite you to supper, if I were not looking for someone, whom I took you for at first; but as I hope to find her, I shall sup with her."

"Bah! let her go! She'll sup with three other men perhaps; don't run after her. You're good-looking, I like you; come, dance with me."

"I am sorry to refuse you, but I don't want to dance now; later, I don't say that----"

"Oh, yes! with the other; good-night, little donkey!"

The little _débardeur_ ran away from Edmond, to join the dance; and almost at the same moment the young man's arm was taken by a little blue domino, who said to him:

"She's not the one you are looking for; whom are you looking for, Edmond Didier?"

"Ah! you know me, do you?"

"Yes, I know you very well; also your friend Freluchon with whom you came to the ball. But I don't know the tall greenhorn disguised as a Spaniard, who came with you two, and who was on your arm just now. Mon Dieu! what a stupid-looking creature! and how wretchedly he carries his costume! Such a figure too! Who on earth is that scarecrow?"

"Do you know that you are very inquisitive? you ask such a lot of questions one on top of another!"

"It's because I like to know about things. Won't you answer me?"

"Oh, yes: the Spaniard is a friend of Freluchon, very well-to-do, a business agent, who has just lost his wife and is now trying to find a place for his heart."

"For life?"

"Oh, no! just for a term of years. If you desire to form an agreeable connection, I commend him to you."

"Thanks; he's too clumsy; he does nothing but pull up his boot-flaps, and I am tempted to offer him a pair of garters to keep them in place."

"You would do him a great service."

"Is he better looking without his nose?"

"He's not at all bad-looking."

"What is the idiot's name?"

"It is perfectly evident that you aspire to make a victim of him."

"Oh, no! you are mistaken; but perhaps I might like to have a little fun with him. What's his name?"

"What I am going to do is rather indiscreet perhaps, but as he will be delighted to be mystified, I will tell you his name: Chamoureau."

"Cha----"

"Moureau."

"Oh! how well the name suits the man! Chalumeau would be even better, for he looks like a stick; but never mind, Chamoureau is not bad. Ha! ha!"

"And now tell me how you happen to know me?"

"Well; try to guess."

"Faith! I confess that I haven't the faintest idea."

"You have answered only one of my questions. Won't you tell me now what woman you are looking for?"

"Oh, no; such things aren't to be mentioned! As to the Spaniard's name, that's all right! but I won't tell you the name of the person I would like to meet; guess it, if you can."

"It should be the fair Thélénie--Madame de Sainte-Suzanne, if you prefer."

"Ah! you also know----"

"That you have been her lover. Who doesn't know that? But are you so no longer? have you ceased to love her?"

"You are becoming too inquisitive again; I shall not answer that."

"You are unfaithful to her, I see; who in the world has succeeded in captivating you? Come, my little Edmond, take me for your confidante; that's a very modest rôle for me to assume."

At that moment Freluchon rushed up to them, seized Edmond's arm and led him away, saying:

"They're right over there, both of them--dancing. I recognized their Andalusian steps. Henriette is dressed as a Folly; come at once; they don't propose to be recognized, but we'll bring them to it."

Edmond instantly threw off the little blue domino's arm and hurried away with Freluchon.

Two women, each wearing a small mask of velvet, without a barb, and dressed, one as a sort of _débardeur_, that is to say, in a high shirt, velvet trousers with broad satin bands, a fringed sash and a round hat covered with flowers; the other as Folly, with a fool's bauble in her hand, bells on her arm and legs and cap, around her waist, everywhere, in short,--were dancing with two men whose costumes were eccentric to the last degree.

One, in a Greek tunic, with deerskin breeches and riding-boots, wore a Roman helmet. The other, dressed as a Cupid, with quiver and arrows, had on his head the sort of head-covering usually assigned to Don Quixote, that is to say, a dish turned upside down.

The dancing of these gentlemen was in keeping with their costumes; it was very daring. The man in the helmet whirled his arms about like the wings of a windmill, with terrifying rapidity. The Cupid kicked up his heels almost in the face of his vis-à-vis, and from time to time, when he was doing the _cavalier seul_, threw himself flat on his stomach and executed the evolution known as the _spider_. As yet, the two little women had ventured upon nothing more than permissible cancan steps.

"The devil!" said Freluchon, planting himself behind the Folly; "those bucks have a style of dancing that's rather risky for their partners. Look out, Henriette; that Cupid will land his foot in your eye, and that's more dangerous, I assure you, than a kick somewhere else!"

The Folly pretended not to hear and went on dancing.

Edmond meanwhile, standing behind the little _débardeur_, said to her:

"My dear Amélia, I am very much afraid that your Roman will carry away your nose while he imitates a windmill with his arms; that would be a pity!"

The _débardeur_, like the Folly, made no reply; but a slight movement of the shoulders betrayed her, and seemed to say:

"Oh! let me alone; you bore me!"

A moment later Freluchon called loudly to his friend:

"I say, Edmond, they turned me out of my lodgings this morning, because I hadn't paid my rent or for my furniture! Did you ever hear such nonsense? Just imagine that my furniture, which I thought was paid for, wasn't!--Well! it didn't take away my spirits; on the contrary, it put me just in the mood to dance and enjoy myself!"

"But I, who lived with you--where am I to sleep?" rejoined Edmond with a laugh; "here am I too without a home!"

"Never fear! we'll find some Roman or some Cupid to give us shelter!--And to think that for lack of four hundred francs I missed the finest match!"

"Nonsense! really?"

"Yes, my dear fellow, a superb match! a flower-maker, thoroughbred, who would have brought me as her dowry, in addition to her virtue, of which I will say nothing, the most agreeable disposition to have me shut up at Clichy,--with or without an eye-glass--in a very short time."

The little woman disguised as a Folly suddenly walked up to Freluchon and said to him under her breath, but in a voice that trembled with anger:

"Monsieur Freluchon, if you don't stop your spiteful remarks, I'll see that you're punished by my partner."

"Ha! ha! ha! so you recognize me now, O fickle Henriette!"

"Yes, I recognize you, but I no longer know you; when a man treats a woman as you treated me this morning, and leaves her in a horrible plight without coming to her assistance, he's a rat! yes, he's worse than a _rat_, he's a _toad_![E] and I don't have anything to do with toads!"

"Ha! ha! very pretty! that word, in your mouth, has a wide meaning--inasmuch as your mouth is not small. Is it because you are covered with bells that you put on so many airs to-night? Bless my soul! if you had asked me for nothing more than bells, I'd have given them to you. I didn't know that you were so fond of them as all this! But really, seeing how enthusiastically you dance, and especially these innumerable bells with which you are loaded down, I confess that I can hardly mourn over your terrible plight of this morning.--Come, leave your Don Quixote, who looks to me amazingly like a vender of theatre tickets, and come to supper with us. I'll give you as many kisses as you have bells; isn't that a seductive prospect?"

Meanwhile Edmond was saying to the _débardeur_:

"Look you, my dear Amélia, after the quadrille, leave your Roman, who looks to me too much like a _claquer_, and take my arm. We were not at odds this morning, why should we be now? You are wrong to espouse your friend's quarrel. Henriette will make you do all sorts of foolish things; you are too nice a girl to dance with such fellows!"

The young grisette seemed to hesitate; but every time that her friend passed her, she said earnestly:

"Don't speak to these fellows! You know what I told you; it's all over between us if you go back to Edmond. My dear girl, women must stand by each other, or else these men will make fools of us."

"Ah! the pretty bells! Mon Dieu! what a lot of bells!" cried Freluchon, still laughing as he watched Mademoiselle Henriette. "I have seen many Follies, but none that approached this one in the matter of bells! I say, Edmond, if a poodle wore as many bells as this, he'd be mistaken for a mule. Oh! how tickled I should be to have bells on all my clothes instead of buttons!"

The Folly was beside herself with rage; she whispered in her Cupid's ear. The Cupid--Don Quixote was a tall, solidly-built fellow, who had every appearance of being a formidable athlete. He walked up to Freluchon, planted himself directly in front of him, and said in a voice that seemed to issue from a cavern:

"I say, counter-jumper, ain't you about through bothering my partner? Understand that if you don't leave her in peace, her and her bells, I'll knock off your hat with the top of my boot and send it up to the gallery."

"Oho! my handsome Cupid, that's a trick I should be delighted to see," retorted Freluchon in a mocking tone. "Really, it would please me immensely if you should succeed."

"Ah! you want to see it, do you? well, look!"

As he spoke, the Cupid suddenly threw up his leg, expecting to kick Freluchon in the face. But he, by a gesture as quick as thought, seized the leg in its passage, and grasping the ankle in his right hand, squeezed it so hard that the Cupid made a horrible grimace and cried:

"Ten thousand million milliards! Let me go, you hurt me, you squeeze too hard! Let me go, I say!"

"If you had struck my face with your foot, wouldn't you have hurt me, you second-hand Cupid?"

"Look here! just let him go this minute, will you!" observed the gentleman dressed as a Roman, approaching Freluchon with uplifted arm, while the latter still held the Cupid by the leg.

But the little fellow, with his left hand, struck his new adversary a blow that sent him reeling backward; there the Roman fell in with Edmond, who gave him an additional push, while Freluchon suddenly released the Cupid's leg with a violent jerk, so that he fell on his back among the dancers.

Thereupon there was a great outcry on all sides, and, as usually happens, the police appeared on the scene and ordered the combatants to leave the ball-room with them, to explain their conduct elsewhere.

Mesdemoiselles Henriette and Amélia took advantage of the moment when the young men were surrounded to glide among the dancers and disappear.

This scene had taken place almost in front of the box in which the pearl-gray domino and her friend Mademoiselle Héloïse were seated.

A few moments earlier, a little blue domino, the same who had questioned and mystified Edmond, had come to report to the fair Thélénie the result of her conversation with the young man. But when she saw the man she was looking for talking with the little _débardeur_, and observed the quarrel that followed their conversation, Thélénie at once divined that the woman disguised as a _débardeur_ was the woman for whose sake the man she loved had come to the ball.

Having watched with some anxiety the brief scrimmage which took place during the quadrille, she rose hurriedly and left the box, muttering:

"I will find that woman, and I will see to whom he sacrifices me!"

A few moments later, Edmond and Freluchon returned in triumph to the ball-room. Their adversaries, whose too delirious style of dancing had already been remarked, had been turned out, and when Freluchon offered them his card, they had declined it, saying:

"Thanks! it isn't worth while; we've had enough."

"And now," said Edmond to his friend, as they returned to the ball-room, "let us try to find those girls again."

"Thanks," said Freluchon; "you can look for your Amélia, if it amuses you, but from this moment I no longer know Henriette! I can forgive a woman her infidelities, her lies, her tricks, her humbug! But when a woman tries to make two men fight, I see nothing more in her than an evil-minded wretch whom I despise, and I never speak to her again."