Chapter XIII: A Young Man Who DID Not Smoke

You will remember that after the famous dinner given by Mirotaine, at which Dubotté had recognized in the soi-disant Italian count an apothecary of Pontoise, the latter had instantly left the company; and that, very shortly thereafter, Dodichet had done the same, declaring his purpose to challenge Miflorès, who had deceived him by holding himself out as a bachelor. But he had no sooner left the Mirotaine abode than, instead of pursuing Seringat, whom he was certain of finding at home the next day, Dodichet betook himself to the address given by Lucien, to whom he was anxious to relate all that he had done in the interest of his love affair.

Having arrived on Quai Jemmapes, by way of Pont du Faubourg du Temple, Dodichet said to himself:

"I wonder which corner it is--the right or the left? I forgot to ask him that. I'll go to both. On the left, I was told, used to stand the famous Vendanges de Bourgogne--a restaurant which was noted for its sheep's feet, and used to be a great place for weddings and banquets. _Sic transit gloria mundi._ On the right, there used to be nothing but swamps, I believe. I'll begin at the left. I can't be too sure of finding Lucien at home. A bachelor doesn't stay in his room in the evening; indeed, he often goes out during the day, and sometimes sleeps out. Never mind; perhaps they can tell me what café he usually goes to for his cigar; for he must smoke somewhere."

In the first house at which Dodichet asked for Lucien Grischard, the reply was:

"This is the place, monsieur."

"Ah! is it, indeed? Excellent! Where am I likely to find him in the evening?"

"Why, in his room, monsieur."

"What! does he stay at home in the evening? doesn't he ever go out?"

"Very rarely, monsieur."

"Then he is in now?"

"Go up to the sixth floor--the door at the left; you'll find him in."

"What a strange mortal!" thought Dodichet, as he climbed up the stairs; "to stay at home in the evening! To be sure, if he received visits from ladies! But that is not probable."

When he reached the sixth floor, Dodichet tapped on the left-hand door, and a voice called out:

"Come in; the door is unlocked."

Dodichet turned the knob, and found himself in a tiny room with a very sloping roof. A bed without curtains, a large table used as a desk, two chairs and a mirror, were substantially all the furniture the room contained; and yet it seemed well furnished, because shelves were nailed to the wall on all sides, containing, instead of books, small pasteboard boxes, all of uniform size. There were many of them on the table too, but those were empty; and at that moment Lucien was seated at the table, engaged in filling the boxes with long black pins, of which he had an enormous quantity before him. By way of robe de chambre, he wore a long flannel jacket, patched in several places, and on his head was a sort of cap which had lost its visor. The room was but dimly lighted by a small lamp; however, Lucien recognized his visitor at once.

"Halloo, Dodichet!" he cried. "To what chance do I owe the pleasure of seeing you at my quarters? I assure you that I wasn't expecting you!"

"I am sure of that. But I am very fond of going where I am not expected. Is this where you live?"

"Yes, my friend."

"And there's only this one room; is this all?"

"Absolutely all. It's quite enough for a single man."

"Quite enough! You're not hard to suit. Where am I to sit down, pray?"

"Where you please."

"Where I please? But I don't see any chair."

"Why, yes, I have two. Wait a moment; the other one is covered with my clothes; I used it as a commode; I'll clear it for you."

Lucien removed his clothes from the chair to the bed, then returned to his occupation, saying to his visitor:

"Now, sit down and tell me what brings you here. I must go on working, because I am in a hurry."

"Oh! don't mind me! It's infernally cramped here, all the same! What the devil are you doing there?"

"As you see, I am putting these pins in boxes. I have to arrange them carefully and see that there's the same number in every box."

"How does this business of yours come on?"

"Not so badly; it rather looks as if it were going to take. I tell you, my fortune would be made, if I had been able to discover, as Rozière of Romainville did, all that can be done with Panama!"

"With Panama! why, they make straw hats with it, I thought."

"But Rozière made soap with it that cleanses perfectly, and many other things too."

Having seated himself, Dodichet said:

"First of all, before I tell you what brings me here, just lend me your _bouffarde_, will you; I want to have a puff."

"My _bouffarde_?"

"Yes; or your pipe, if you like that better."

"But I haven't any pipe."

"No pipe? you surprise me! It's less expensive than cigars. Well, then, give me a cigar--as dry a one as you can."

"I haven't any cigars either."

"The devil! I seem to have caught you at low tide. In that case, pass me your tobacco pouch and I'll make a cigarette."

"I am distressed, my dear Dodichet, to be obliged to refuse you again; but I haven't a particle of tobacco here."

"No tobacco! you haven't any tobacco! That is a good one! Do you smoke straw, then? For, of course, you must smoke something?"

"Why so? as a matter of fact, I don't smoke at all. I have neither the time nor the inclination; and, frankly, I don't see the necessity."

"You don't smoke--at your age! You poor devil! you must be horribly bored!"

"That's where you are mistaken; I am never bored, for I am always at work. Why do so many men smoke? Because they have nothing to do, and don't know how to employ their time, which seems to them murderously long; so they smoke and imagine that they're doing something, that they are busy. That is a wretched occupation which serves only to encourage indolence!"

"I say, Lucien, do you know that you tire me with your moral reflections about smokers?"

"Well, my dear friend, you shouldn't call me a poor devil because I don't smoke; I just answered you, that's all; I will add that I should apply the same term to those young men who smoke all the time, who always have a pipe or cigar in their mouths. In the first place, they smell detestable; secondly, they ruin their lungs; and, lastly, they spend a great deal of money; it doesn't seem much, because it's only a little at a time; but the smallest sum, when you keep putting it out every minute or two, amounts to a good round sum at the end of a year. To workingmen especially, this habit of smoking is disastrous, and it has impoverished more than one family."

"Do you expect with your sermons to cure smokers of smoking? If you do, you're devilishly mistaken!"

"Oh! I have no idea of curing anybody. I simply tell you my opinion--opinions are free."

"But you see, Lucien, when you have once acquired the habit of smoking, that's the end of it; you can't give it up."

"I beg your pardon, my dear friend, but a man can break himself of any habit; all you need is a firm will; if you could make me believe otherwise, it would amount to convincing me that all men are maniacs, machines, automata which are obliged to do the same things over and over again; and that would make me grieve for mankind! I haven't mentioned all the fires and accidents caused by the carelessness of smokers. Why, Mademoiselle Juliette Mirotaine has a friend who had her dress all burned on the boulevard by a match which someone had thrown on the sidewalk without taking the trouble to step on it."

"I always step on mine!--But let's drop the subject. You're sure that you haven't so much as a pinch of tobacco in your pouch?"

"I haven't a pouch even. What the devil should I do with one?"

"He has no pouch! you hear him, great God, and you don't blast him!--Well, when I leave you, I am going to see some ladies--ladies, do you hear?--and I am very sure that they'll have some tobacco for me."

"That is possible, as there are some ladies who smoke nowadays."

"Yes, my dear friend. Oh! you needn't shrug your shoulders! The fair sex is for tobacco."

"There are ladies and ladies!"

"Well, let's drop it.--I will be brief: my dear friend, I have just done you a very great service."

"You have! how so?"

"I have just come from Monsieur Mirotaine's, where I dined."

"Mon Dieu! you make me shudder!"

"Nay, rather rejoice! I had seen the wardrobe dealer, and told her that I had a very rich count who wanted to marry and who would not ask for any dowry."

"I asked you not to play any wretched practical joke."

"True; but I didn't listen to you, and it's well I didn't; for everything went off as if it was on wheels."

"Whom did you present as the man who wanted a wife?"

"Someone who can't refuse me anything, who plays whatever part I assign to him, because I know a certain secret. Ha! ha! ha! Poor Miflorès-Seringat! or Seringat-Miflorès!--There's a pigeon whom Providence placed in my hand most opportunely!"

"Go on! what happened at Monsieur Mirotaine's?"

"We had a fairly good dinner, except for the vin ordinaire, which was only too plentiful, the champagne, which tasted like Rogé's purgative lemonade, and the _crême à la vanille_, which was sweetened with camphor. My false count didn't say a word, but confined himself to eating; as I had said, however, that he wanted a chance to study the young lady before he proposed, everything went well; but, after dinner, while we were in the salon, picking up radishes and pickles which Mirotaine had in reserve in his pocket, lo and behold! Dubotté arrived with his wife--a pretty little blonde, on my word!--Would you believe that Dubotté recognized my pseudo-count, and said to him: 'How are you, Seringat? how's your good wife?'--You can imagine the sensation!--Papa Mirotaine was furious, the wardrobe woman confused, the guests stared at one another in amazement,--and my soi-disant marrying man took his legs in his hand, after consigning to the devil the man who had asked him about his wife. In the midst of all that confusion, I had great difficulty in keeping from roaring with laughter.--Monsieur Mirotaine questioned me; he undertook to be wrathful, but I mounted a higher horse than he; I declared that Miflorès had fooled and deceived me, and that I was going to demand satisfaction from him. I came away, and here I am!--Well, what do you say to that?"

"I say that you did wrong to play this farce, and I am afraid that it will do me more harm than good."

"Why, no, it won't; the old miser, disgusted with the idea of prospective husbands he doesn't know, will refuse to receive any more of them, and will consent to give you his daughter."

"I have no hope that things will turn out so."

"You're an ungrateful wretch!--Try to oblige your friends, and this is the reward you get! And he can't even give me a bit of tobacco!"

"You intended to be useful to me, my dear Dodichet, and I thank you for it; but, I say again, I am not at all at ease as to the results of your ill-timed jest."

"If you smoked, you wouldn't be so timid! Adieu, virtuous man, prudent man, indefatigable worker! Adieu, O most extraordinary man--who doesn't smoke! You are not of your epoch!"

"That may be! but I am perfectly sure that a time will come when Frenchmen will have become courteous and refined once more, and will be unable to understand how their ancestors could have smoked so much!"

"Adieu! I fly now in quest of my treasurer; I must see him, for the waters are low, and I want to buy a gorgeous costume for my début in the rôle of Joconde."

"At the Opéra-Comique?"

"No; at Quimper-Corentin."

Lucien returned to his boxes of pins, reflecting upon all that Dodichet had told him.

"As a matter of prudence," he thought, "I shall do well to wait a few days before appearing at Monsieur Mirotaine's; he must be very angry at having been made a dupe; I will give his anger time to subside; I will wait until he has partly forgotten to-day's occurrences, so that he cannot guess that I know anything about them."

But during the week that passed before Lucien went to Mirotaine's, Dubotté had entertained young Callé at dinner, and, as we have seen, had told his guest why Dodichet had conceived the idea of bringing forward a husband for Mademoiselle Juliette; that it was in the hope of serving his friend Lucien's interests. Young Callé, who was a great gossip, like most people who have nothing to do, did not fail to repeat to Aldegonde all that he had learned at Dubotté's, and the stepmother repeated it to her husband; whereupon the latter made a scene with his daughter.

"You were in collusion with those wretches," he cried, "those blackguards who cheated me out of a dinner! it was your Lucien who urged them to play that joke on me, of which the assize court would take cognizance! When I see him, I'll tell him what I think of him."

It was of no use for Juliette to protest, to swear that she knew nothing about it, and that Lucien was incapable of devising the malicious scheme which they had presumed to carry out--Monsieur Mirotaine was convinced of the contrary; and when, two days later, poor Lucien appeared before his love's father, humble and smiling, and inquired for his health, Monsieur Mirotaine flew into a rage and pushed him toward the door, crying:

"My health! You have the insolence to come to inquire for my health, after making a fool of me to such a point that it made me ill! You are very bold to show your face before me again!"

"Why, monsieur," stammered Lucien, in dire dismay, "what have I done that you should treat me like this?"

"What have you done? He pretends not to know! But you can't fool me, monsieur!--Think of the dinner I was forced to give--a dinner of eleven covers! three courses! and my old claret! And that Italian count--who was only an apothecary--whom Dodichet introduced as a millionaire in search of a wife--when he already had one at Pontoise! And the coffee and liqueurs! Your friend Dodichet helped himself to cognac three times! Can you deny that he's your friend, and that he invented that abominable farce in the hope of helping on your love for my daughter?"

"If Dodichet did that to do me a service, I swear to you on my honor, monsieur, that it was done against my will; that I expressly forbade him to attempt the slightest liberty with you!"

"Oh! tell that to the marines, monsieur! you admit that this Dodichet is a friend of yours, and that's enough to justify me in forbidding you to set your foot inside my doors again."

"But my intentions are absolutely pure, monsieur; as you know, my pin-making enterprise opens very well; I hope to be able to extend it very materially."

"Yes, yes! you'll have your excellent friends praise it and brag about it! But I will not be your dupe any more. Go! and don't think of showing yourself here again; you won't be admitted!"

Monsieur Mirotaine pushed the young man into the porch, and closed the door violently upon him. Whereupon Lucien walked slowly away, murmuring:

"I shan't see Juliette again; I cannot even exchange a word or two with her any more. Ah! Dodichet! what a pitiable service you have done me!"