Chapter VI: A Stag Dinner Party

The young men established themselves in one of the pleasant salons of the restaurant. Mouillot called for pen and ink to prepare the menu, and Tobie whispered to Albert:

"We mustn't forget my letter for Madame Plays."

"True," replied Albert.--"Waiter, some note paper."

"Do you propose to order the dinner, too?" said Mouillot. "Can't you trust me to do it in style?"

"To be sure; I am going to write something else."

"A billet-doux, eh? Oh! for heaven's sake, let the women alone! We are here to eat and laugh."

"This is how it is, messieurs. There's----"

"Oh! my dear fellow," cried Tobie, hurrying to Albert's side, "let's not compromise anybody! we agreed to be close-mouthed!"

"So long as he doesn't mention the lady's name," said Célestin, "I don't see why he can't tell the story."

"Surely I can. I am turning over one of my mistresses to Tobie, messieurs,--assuming, of course, that she is willing to accept him as a substitute."

"You can't be certain of that," laughed Mouillot; "for he hasn't the figure."

"Do you say you've been drawn in the conscription?" inquired Balivan, who had not heard the beginning of the conversation.

"No, no; I have bought a substitute.--Come, Albert, write my letter; for I am afraid we shall hardly be in the mood for writing after dinner."

"I am sending Tobie to an assignation in my place," said Albert, "and I am going to give him a letter of introduction."

"Well, you can write your letter while I am writing the order for dinner. It will give you inspiration. Here come the writing materials."

Albert sat down opposite Mouillot, each of them took a pen; and while one sought words to write to his mistress, the other looked over the bill of fare.

Albert began, reading aloud as he wrote:

"Charming creature!"

Mouillot in like manner announced each dish that he selected.

"_Potage aux bistres._"

"You know how dearly I love you."

"For three--that will be enough."

"Your image is always before me."

"Calf's head _en tortue_."

"When I see you, I instantly become----"

"_Andouillette de Troyes._"

"Drunk with joy."

"With salmon."

"But I am detained at this moment by urgent business, dear heart."

"Truffled turkey."

"To save you the annoyance of waiting for me at our rendezvous----"

"Lobster----"

"I send one of my intimate friends."

"As fresh as possible."

"You can trust him absolutely."

"If it smells, we shall send it back."

"He will escort you to a place we have agreed on----"

"Asparagus----"

"And will stay with you till I come."

"With white sauce."

"I will join you as soon as I possibly can."

"Sweets, dessert, champagne."

"I send you by him a thousand assurances of my love."

"Serve everything hot."

"With such a letter of recommendation, it seems to me that you ought to receive a warm welcome," said Albert, as he signed his name.

"I call that a well-diversified little dinner, messieurs," said Mouillot, handing the order to the waiter.

As for Tobie, he thanked Albert and carefully pocketed the missive that was to open the way for him to a piquant intrigue.

"Above all things, serve the dinner promptly, and without interruption," he called to the waiter.

"Mon Dieu! why are we in such a hurry?" said the artist, who had already seated himself at the table and was blowing his nose in his napkin, which he mistook for his handkerchief. "For my part, I like to sit a long while at dinner."

"So do I; but I have an assignation for this evening."

"Well, upon my word! there's Balivan using his napkin for a handkerchief! That's the beginning of his freaks. We shall see some amusing sights, if he goes on."

"My napkin! Faith, that's true! I am always doing that; and the worst of it is that I did it not long ago at a grand dinner, at a banker's house, where there were marquises and deputies. Suddenly I saw that everybody was looking at me with a curious expression. Imagine my confusion, when a very pretty woman, who was sitting beside me, said in a most amiable tone: 'Of course, you are doing that for a wager, monsieur?'--'What, madame?'--'Using your napkin as a handkerchief.'--Then, of course, I realized my blunder; and what do you suppose I did, in my embarrassment? I put the napkin in my pocket! Luckily, everybody began to laugh, for they saw how absent-minded I was."

"Meanwhile," said Mouillot, "I request as a favor that I may not be seated next to Balivan, because absent-minded people are very unpleasant neighbors at table.--You ask him to pass the olives, and he'll pour water in your wine. If you want bread, he'll pass you the pepper. It's a constant succession of disappointments."

"Have you ever been magnetized?" inquired Monsieur Dupétrain, fixing his glassy stare on the painter.

"Oh! go to the devil with your magnetism! As if I took any stock in it!"

"Take any stock in it! Why, my dear fellow, don't you know that the power of magnetism is absolutely proved? that the most distinguished people are the most fervent adepts of Mesmer? that ladies of the highest social position go to the magnetizers now to be put to sleep, as they used to go to be mesmerized?"

"Parbleu! that's a convincing authority to appeal to! Women--who adore anything that promises a novel kind of sensation, and who seek pleasure instead of truth."

"But I'll wager, Balivan, that I can put you to sleep, incredulous as you are!"

"Put me to sleep! That is very possible; but it would be much harder to wake me."

"I say, messieurs, aren't you ready to stop talking magnetism?" cried Mouillot; "I supposed that we dined together to enjoy ourselves. For heaven's sake, Dupétrain, don't put us to sleep yet! Later, if you choose.--To the table, my friends!"

They took their seats, Tobie among the first. He examined the tableware, the hors-d'oeuvre, the glasses of different sizes placed in front of each guest, and an ecstatic expression lighted up his face. From the way that he ate and drank, and lingered lovingly over every mouthful, one could divine that he was perfectly content, and that his thoughts took this turn:

"As I am here, I must make the most of it. If I spend money, at all events it will be of some benefit to me."

"Aren't we going to have any madeira?" said Célestin, after finishing his soup.

"I should say so! What do you take us for?" replied Mouillot.

"Yes, yes! madeira!" cried Pigeonnier. "When I am in the vein, I don't deny myself anything."

"Waiter! some madeira!"

"It is here, messieurs; what wine will you have next?"

"Beaune première, to begin with. After that, we will see."

"That's right!" said Tobie, gulping down the madeira. "Beaune première, the best there is! Is anything too good for us? Pass me the olives. Pass me the anchovies. Pass me the tunny."

"The devil! you might as well say pass me everything! How little Tobie pitches in! Be careful, my dear fellow; it isn't prudent to have your stomach too full when you are going straight away to an assignation."

"Oh! I have room enough. I'd like some madeira."

"Monsieur has a full, round face, which doesn't indicate a very nervous man," said Dupétrain, looking at Tobie; "but I'll bet that I can put him to sleep."

"Dupétrain," cried Mouillot, "you will be fined five francs every time that you mention magnetism during dinner."

"Oho! we're forbidden to speak now, are we?"

"Tell us something amusing--we would like that.--But you don't say anything, Albert! Have you an unrequited passion in your heart?"

"I, a passion! _Fichtre!_ no--but I---- By the way, waiter, I expect a messenger. Let me know when anyone asks for me."

"The same with me," said Célestin.

"And me," cried Tobie, stuffing a handful of olives into his pocket; "let me know, waiter--for it's very important. I am Monsieur Tobie Pigeonnier. A messenger will ask for me."

"Do you propose to put all the olives in your pocket, Tobie?"

"I like them pocketed,[B] messieurs; they're much better."

"Yes," laughed Célestin, "and then, you have some the next day."

"Ah! they are better pocketed, are they?" said the artist. "Then I must try some."

And as the radishes were passed to Balivan a moment later, he seized a handful and put them in his pocket.

The first courses were discussed with great zest by the young men; but when the truffled turkey arrived, their enthusiasm had abated in some degree; Tobie alone seemed as hungry as ever, and filled his plate with truffles, crying:

"On my word, one can dine mighty well here!"

"You don't seem to be sure of yourself, Pigeonnier," said Albert, with a smile.

"Peste!" said Mouillot; "how you do work your oven!"

"Well, for all that," interposed Dupétrain, "I'll bet that I can put monsieur to sleep."

"Five francs, Dupétrain!"

"Give me some beaune, Balivan. Damnation! I knew it; he's mixed it with madeira! Would you like me to give you an idea of that fellow's absent-mindedness, messieurs? Not long ago, I went to see him during the day; his servant said: 'Monsieur is taking a bath; he sent out for one, and he's in it now.'--'Well,' I said, 'that needn't prevent my speaking to him. Men aren't afraid to look at one another in the water.'--So I went into the room where my gentleman was bathing. What did I see? Balivan, fully dressed, and with his boots on, seated in his bath and quietly reading a newspaper, absolutely unconscious that there was anything peculiar in his method of bathing."

"Ha! ha! ha! that is too much; we might say, like your fair neighbor at dinner: it was a bet, wasn't it, Balivan?"

"No, messieurs," the artist calmly replied; "I give you my word that I hadn't noticed what I was doing. If they had brought me my bath in decent season, it wouldn't have happened. But when I found that it didn't come, I went out; when I came back, it was all ready; I was in a hurry, so I just glanced at the clock, took the _Gazette des Tribunaux_, and jumped in. That infernal newspaper was at the bottom of it; for I was reading a very interesting case, and all I remember now is that the water seemed very heavy."

"You may be a somnambulist," said Dupétrain; "very likely you were asleep when you got into the bath."

"Asleep! damnation! I tell you, I had just been out to do an errand; I was in a great hurry, for I hadn't had my breakfast, and I got into the bath without thinking of undressing."

During this conversation, young Tobie, determined to waste no time, had slipped into his napkin a large part of the truffles that were on his plate, and, having wiped them carefully, stuffed them into his pocket. Then he said:

"Just pass me the turkey again, messieurs; I would like a few of the truffles with this chicken."

"I say, Pigeonnier, this is too much; you mean to outdo yourself, my dear fellow, to leave Albert in the shade!"

"Tudieu! what an appetite!" cried Mouillot. "That blade ought to pay for two; he beats us all."

"You see, messieurs, I am very fond of truffles."

"So we perceive."

Albert consulted his watch, and said, with an impatient gesture:

"Why doesn't that messenger come?"

"Neither of them has come yet."

"Have you been sending bouquets to your fair ones, messieurs?" queried Mouillot; "that reminds me of an experience I had with a blockhead of a messenger. My mistress at that time was a very attractive woman, an amiable little creature of about twenty-two, who seemed barely eighteen. She was married, and an old aunt of her husband lived with her and was supposed to keep an eye on her, because they knew she was a little giddy. So that we had to act cautiously. My charmer had asked me to send her a bouquet, because she was going to a ball, to which I also was going. During the day, I bought a lovely bouquet at Mademoiselle Prévot's, then took a cab, and told the driver to take me to the faubourg where my mistress lived. I got out at the corner of a street, two or three hundred yards from her house, and looked about for a messenger. At last I spied one; he was a man fifty years old or more, very dirty, and with the general aspect of a drunkard, but still the probabilities were that he knew his business. I beckoned to him and led him into a doorway. He tried to look cunning when he saw that he was to carry a bouquet. I pointed out the house, and told him the number, then said: 'There's no concierge; you must go to the rear of the courtyard, where there is only one little door, at which you will ring. If the door is opened by a man, or by an old woman, you will say simply: "Here's the bouquet madame ordered of a flower girl, to be sent to her," and then come away without another word; but if it's a young woman, then you will say to her: "Here is the bouquet, madame; the gentleman who sent it is at the corner of the street yonder," and listen carefully to what she tells you to say to me. I will wait here for you. You understand! no blundering!'--My messenger assumed his sly expression once more, and replied: 'Never fear, monsieur; this isn't the first time I've carried a bouquet.'--And off he went with mine. I followed him with my eyes. I wasn't very easy in my mind, for the fellow looked so stupid that I was afraid of some blunder. To begin with, I saw that he passed the house, although I had pointed it out to him plainly enough; however, after going beyond it, he turned back and found it; he went in, and I waited. After several minutes, which seemed painfully long to me, my man came back with a self-satisfied air.--'Well,' I said, 'to whom did you give it?'--'Two children, nine or ten years old, opened the door, monsieur; one was a little girl, and the other a boy. "My little friends," I says to them; "here's a bouquet somebody gave me for your mother; will you go and tell her?"'--'Great God!' I cried; 'did I tell you that the lady had children? Well?'--'Then, monsieur, a lady came.'--'Young and pretty?'--'Not bad-looking, monsieur, according to my ideas.'--'It must have been the old woman, then; what did you say to her?'--'I says: "Madame, here's a bouquet that the flower girl hopes you'll accept; it will give her great pleasure."--"What flower girl?" says the lady. "I haven't ordered any bouquet. Where is the flower girl's stand?"--"Faith! madame, the young man didn't tell me; but it's paid for; my orders are not to take any money."'--'The devil take you!' cried I, as I dismissed him; 'I shall know you again, and I'll never send you to carry another bouquet.'--And, as it turned out, that brute was the cause of a terrible scene between my little lady and her husband, which led to a rupture between us. Moral: good messengers are rare in Paris. They try to show so much intelligence that, if you hand them an unaddressed letter, and say: 'You are to take this letter,'--they begin by grabbing it and running off; and you have to call them back to tell them where to carry it."

"I have another charge to make, messieurs," said Célestin. "Monsieur Tobie Pigeonnier is stuffing truffles into his pocket. I'm not surprised that they disappear from his plate so fast."

"Mon Dieu! just because I've taken two or three.--Come, waiter! The lobster--and the asparagus. Hot! hot!"

"At what time do you go to your rendezvous?" asked Balivan.

"Half-past eight."

"You have time enough."

"None too much; you see, I should like some dessert too."

"Oh! I see that you don't propose to abandon your share of anything."

"When a man has a good stomach, he ought to make use of it. If you play bouillotte this evening, I'll come back and join you."

"If we play!" cried Mouillot; "I rather think so--eh, Albert?"

"Oh, yes! I want my revenge."

"Bouillotte to the death!" said Balivan, absent-mindedly eating asparagus at the wrong end.

"And afterward, messieurs," said Dupétrain, "I will magnetize you all."

"Oh! he'll drive us mad with his nonsense! I say, Dupétrain, do you magnetize your mistresses, when you have any?"

"Certainly; I put myself in communication with them at once."

"He communicates his magnetic fluid to them."

"And as they confess, in the somnambulistic state, that they deceive him, that vexes him, and he goes off and puts others to sleep."

"Laugh as much as you please, messieurs!" rejoined Dupétrain, assuming a solemn expression and resting his elbows on the table; "but if I should tell you all the extraordinary things that have been disclosed to me by the power of magnetism, you would shudder from head to foot."

"_Fichtre!_" exclaimed Tobie, returning to the lobster. "Faith! they give you a good dinner here.--Is this story of yours very interesting?"

"Well, well!" said Albert; "here's Tobie burning with the desire to shudder from head to foot!"

"I'll tell you a single incident," replied Dupétrain, delighted to find that Tobie paid some attention to what he said.--"A young woman, whose husband was travelling----"

At that moment, the waiter opened the door of the salon and said:

"A messenger is here, asking for Monsieur Célestin de Valnoir."

"Very well," said Célestin, rising; "I'll go and speak to him."

He left the room and found Jean Ficelle waiting on the landing; he beckoned to the messenger, who said in an undertone:

"First of all, my comrade Sans-Cravate went to the same house that I did. I let him go first, as you told me; then I waited till he came out, before I went in."

"Very good. And he didn't see you?"

"It was impossible. The lady wasn't in, but I found the maid, Mamzelle Rosa, who told me where her mistress was--on Rue d'Angoulême, Boulevard du Temple, calling on one of her friends. I went there and found her, and gave her your letter. She read it, and then gave me this answer for monsieur."

With that, Jean Ficelle handed Célestin a letter. He tore it open, hurried to a gas jet to read it, and seemed satisfied with its contents. Having put it in his pocket, he took out a two-franc piece and handed it to the messenger, saying:

"Here, this is for you."

Jean Ficelle made a wry face as he took the coin, and muttered:

"Only that much for going to Rue Neuve-Vivienne, then to Rue d'Angoulême, and coming back here; it ain't very fat pay."

"You rascal! I'll wager that the lady to whom you gave my letter paid you, and paid you handsomely too; so that I really ought not to give you anything."

"Monsieur is too shrewd," replied Jean Ficelle, with a half-smile; "there's no way of being sharp with him."

"Off with you! keep your mouth shut, and I'll employ you again; when you're paid at both ends, it seems to me that you ought to be satisfied."

"He's a skinflint, all the same!" muttered the messenger, as he went away.

Célestin returned to his friends.

"The reply is evidently satisfactory," said Mouillot, scrutinizing his face. "His eyes have the proud gleam of a victor already. Is your Dulcinea very pretty?"

"Oh! messieurs, it isn't what you imagine. It's important business."

"Are you going to marry?"

"No. It's some business on the Bourse. A little money to invest."

"Oho! if you're going to be a millionaire, then you can afford to lose at bouillotte.--The champagne frappé, waiter. Now is the time!"

"Messieurs," said Dupétrain, with his elbows still on the table, "I was about to tell you a very curious anecdote.--A young woman, whose husband was travelling, desired to know whether, when he was away from her----"

"Silence! No more stories! here comes the champagne!--Well, Albert, why don't you drink? You are not in good spirits."

"Because my messenger doesn't come," replied the young dandy, with a sigh which he extinguished in a glass of champagne.

"Nor mine, either," said Tobie; "but I don't care! he'll come in time. Meanwhile, let us drink and laugh and sing! Champagne till we drop! They treat you mighty well here."

"Yes, you seem to be getting along very well," said the artist, with a smile.

"Spare yourself, Pigeonnier, my boy; or else you'll make a fiasco, in spite of your letter of recommendation."

"I! why I could drink champagne all day without getting drunk; I am so used to it!"

Again the waiter appeared, and said:

"There's a messenger for Monsieur Albert Vermoncey."

"Ah! it's for me this time!" exclaimed the young man, springing to his feet. "I am coming! I am coming!"

In a second he had left the room and joined Sans-Cravate, who came to meet him, holding three letters in one hand and a single one in the other, and who said, almost without stopping for breath:

"I did just what monsieur told me: first, to the lady's house on Rue Neuve-Vivienne. Not in; I left the letter. Then to monsieur's house, Rue Caumartin. The concierge gave me these three letters. They smell good; you'd think you had your nose on Bastringuette's tray. And then I went back just now to Rue Neuve-Vivienne, and they gave me this letter for monsieur. That smells good, too."

"A letter from her! Oh! give it to me, give it to me!"

"Here's all of them; first, the three the concierge gave me."

And Sans-Cravate handed Albert the letters he held in his left hand. But the young man crumpled them up together and thrust them into his pocket; then, hurriedly breaking the seal of the other one, which the messenger had in his right hand, he stepped aside to read it unobserved, while Sans-Cravate whistled a _cachucha_ between his teeth.

Albert had no sooner made himself acquainted with the contents of Madame Baldimer's reply to his letter, than his face assumed an expression of the most intense pleasure; he felt in his pocket and took out two five-franc pieces, which he put in Sans-Cravate's hand, saying:

"Here, Sans-Cravate; I am happy, and I want you to be happy, too."

"Ah! thanks, bourgeois. _Crédié!_ it's a pleasure to work for you; you're very free with your cash. I am always at your service--day or night--no matter what time; whenever you need me, I'll be ready. And if you should be short of the needful, I'd work for you all the same; because, you see, when I once get attached to people, it isn't just selfishness that makes me work for them--it's the heart--it's----"

"All right, my good fellow, thanks! Some day, perhaps, I shall put your zeal to the proof. Go and enjoy yourself. I must return to my friends."

"Oh! yes, we are going to have rather a choice little spree!" cried Sans-Cravate, as he went downstairs four at a time. "Bastringuette will have a chance to let herself go; she's so fond of good things to eat! Three cart-wheels to spend: a tricycle! nothing less, by God!"

While Sans-Cravate left the restaurant, singing at the top of his voice, Albert returned to his place at the table.

"Give me something to drink!" he cried; "champagne! let us play cards and get drunk! I am in the mood now to do whatever you choose."

"It seems that all the replies are favorable," said Mouillot.

"Oh! very favorable!" rejoined Albert; "I make no secret of the fact that there was a woman who was inclined to play the prude with me, and with whom, of course, I was more in love than ever. But I have obtained an assignation--a tête-à-tête, at last."

"Oho! it's all settled, then."

"An assignation for this evening?" queried Célestin, with an indifferent air.

"No, not until to-morrow. So I can pass the evening, and the night too, with you. I am entirely at your service."

"So much the better; we will have a hot game."

"I shall win, for I am in a lucky vein."

"That's not certain; lucky in love doesn't mean lucky at cards; the proverb says just the opposite."

"For my part, I believe that luck in one brings luck in the other. So look out for yourselves to-night."

"Messieurs," said Dupétrain, with his elbows on the table, and glaring at each of his companions in turn, in order to attract their attention, "I think that the time has come----"

"To put us to sleep?" cried Balivan.

"No; but to tell you about that extraordinary occurrence that I started to tell you a moment ago."

"I say, messieurs," said Mouillot; "we may as well let him tell his story; if we don't, he won't give us a moment's peace this evening.--Go on, Dupétrain; but if it lasts too long, you won't be allowed to finish it."

"Oh! messieurs, I am sure that the anecdote won't seem long to you; it's too interesting for that.--A young woman had a husband, who was travelling----"

"You have already told us that three times."

"This young woman was very desirous to know whether her husband, while he was away from her----"

"A messenger wants to speak to Monsieur Pigeonnier," said the waiter, at the door.

All the young men roared with laughter at the expression of Dupétrain's face when he was interrupted for the third time at the beginning of his story. But Tobie left the table, saying:

"Excuse me a moment. Don't go on without me. I am coming right back."

Paul was waiting for Tobie; he seemed very tired, and the perspiration was still streaming from his face. But Monsieur Pigeonnier began by saying to him:

"It has taken you a very long time; you are very late; if I was a messenger, I would move quicker than this."

"It's not my fault, monsieur," Paul replied. "I went first to the Marché du Temple, to see Madame Agar Abraham."

"Speak lower, messenger, lower! Come to the foot of the stairs; there are too many people passing here."

They went downstairs, and Tobie led Paul into the farthest corner of the courtyard.

"Now, go on," he said; "I am listening."

"I handed monsieur's letter to Madame Abraham."

"Very good; where's the money she gave you?"

"She gave me no money for monsieur; but after reading the letter, she cried: 'My nephew is trying to make a fool of me! does he suppose that I am going to support him in his extravagance? I won't lend him another sou! not another liard! and if he don't pay what he owes me---- '"

"All right! all right! that's enough! Madame Agar was jesting; in the first place, I am not her nephew, but that's a favorite term of hers that she applies to everybody; she even calls some of her lady customers her nephews. I'll go and give her a lecture, to teach her not to be so familiar.--Then you went to my concierge, Madame Pluchonneau, who made haste to do what I wanted?"

"She didn't make any too much haste, monsieur. In the first place, she cried: 'If monsieur thinks I like doing such errands as this--carrying his coat to the Mont-de-Piété---- '"

"Hush! hush! not so loud! Those concierges are so infernally insolent. It's very warm in my room, the sun shines into it all day; I don't need to keep my winter clothes through the summer, for the moths to eat; and then, I have so many clothes, I really don't know where to keep them. Well?"

"Well, monsieur, your concierge went on with her dinner and didn't show the slightest zeal."

"I'll have my landlord discharge her."

"When she had finished her dinner, she went up to your room.--'If monsieur sends to the Mont-de-Piété so often,' she said, 'I don't know what he'll have left to cover his backside.'"

"Backside! she didn't use that word, I trust?"

"I beg your pardon, monsieur; I have repeated exactly what she said."

"She'll pay dear for that. She shall not do my chamber work any more--I mean, she shan't help my valet with my cooking. But let us skip these details; they are eating the dessert without me."

"At last, monsieur, your concierge did your errand. She was gone a very long time; that's why I could not return any sooner, as you told me to wait."

"True."

"She came back in a very ill humor, and gave me this for monsieur."

And Paul handed Tobie two five-franc pieces and one of two francs.

"Twelve francs!" he cried. "What does this mean? twelve francs for a superb silk-lined paletot, with a velvet collar! Messenger, she must have given you more than this."

Paul repressed with difficulty an angry retort, and handed Tobie a slip of paper, saying:

"No, monsieur; there wasn't any more money, but she gave me this paper with it, which will prove that I have handed you all that I received."

The paper was the Mont-de-Piété ticket. Tobie read it, and muttered:

"The Arabs! twelve francs! only twelve francs for a luxurious garment which cost me a hundred and nineteen! However, I won't let them keep it long, to teach them---- All right, my boy, all right!"

And Monsieur Pigeonnier started to go away without paying the messenger. He thought better of it, however, went back to Paul, and put a ten-sou piece in his hand.

"Here, my boy," he said; "here's your money."

Paul glanced at the ten-sou piece, and could not refrain from saying:

"What, monsieur! this is all you give me for more than three hours?"

"Three hours! three hours! it isn't my fault if you make a job last forever."

"But, monsieur----"

"I never give less than ten sous for an errand, and never more; it's quite enough."

"I did two errands for monsieur; I went first to the Temple, and----"

"Well, well, all right! here--for God's sake, don't whine!"

Tobie reluctantly took four sous more from his pocket and gave them to Paul, then ran quickly up the stairs; while the young messenger, evidently confused and humiliated by the way in which he had been treated, walked slowly away from the Maison-Dorée.

Tobie instantly resumed his seat at the table, and, to make up for lost time, stuffed himself with biscuit, fruit, preserves and confections; but, although he did full honor to the dessert, his face, when he rejoined his friends, was very far from expressing the lively satisfaction depicted on Albert's and Célestin's after their interviews with their respective messengers.

"This time," said Mouillot, "I fancy that the reply was not so agreeable as on the two preceding occasions. Young Tobie does not appear perfectly content. She no longer loves him!"

"I beg your pardon," replied Tobie, filling his glass with champagne; "on the contrary, she loves me too well."

"It's very strange, but one would swear that you were annoyed. Don't lie about it: your charmer has given you your walking ticket."

"Not at all! but she's a horribly jealous creature, with whom I was to dine to-day. I broke my engagement in order to join you, and she writes me that it is plain that I no longer love her, and that she's going to take poison; that alarms me a little, because she's quite capable of doing as she says."

"Nonsense! you must have read it wrong; it's fish [_poisson_] that she's going to take. Show us her letter."

"Impossible, messieurs! I must respect her reputation."

"I say! you're putting figs and raisins in your pockets now; do you like them pocketed, too?"

"Oh! I was absent-minded; that devil of a woman! Why need she disturb my enjoyment! Basta! I won't think any more about her. Another love awaits me! Give me something to drink!"

Monsieur Dupétrain, who had been coughing persistently for several minutes to attract the others' attention, replaced his elbows on the table, and began:

"Messieurs, as the three messengers you were expecting have all come at last and brought replies to your messages, and as you will not be called away again, I think that this is an opportune time to tell you my somnambulistic anecdote."

The young men prepared to listen; and Mouillot drew his watch, saying:

"I am going to see how long your story lasts; I warn you that I give you only ten minutes. Look, Dupétrain, you see that it's eight twenty-five."

Monsieur Dupétrain did not look at the watch, for he was already off.

"A young woman, the wife of a man who was on a journey----"

But at that moment, Albert, as if he suddenly recalled the plan he had formed, cried:

"Eight twenty-five! Well, Tobie, what about your appointment for half-past eight? You have no time to spare, for the lady is not very patient."

Tobie sprang to his feet, delighted to have an opportunity to leave in a hurry; without losing an instant, he threw down his napkin and seized his hat.

"Mon Dieu!" he cried; "that is true; and I had forgotten it for the moment. I must run. Excuse me, messieurs, but it is an adventure which I should be very sorry to miss.--Pay for me, Albert; I haven't time to wait for the bill."

"Very well! Will you come back this evening, to tell us the result of the interview?"

"To be sure; and to play a game of bouillotte with you. Will you be here?"

"No," said Mouillot; "if we want to make a night of it, we had better go to Balivan's; we shall be more at liberty there."

"My studio is at your service, messieurs; with pipes of all sizes, from all countries."

"All right; then I will join you at Monsieur Balivan's."

"You know my address? Rue Taitbout."

"I know, I know! Au revoir!--By the way, Monsieur Dupétrain, please don't tell your story till I come back."

Dupétrain made no reply; he had taken his head in his hands and was fascinating his plate. The young men laughed heartily, and Tobie disappeared.