Chapter VII: A Difficult Errand

The next day, before six o’clock, Georget was up and dressed; he went first to inquire concerning his mother’s health; the invalid had slept, and felt better, although she was still too weak to rise. She smiled as she said:

“Up already, my dear?”

“I must earn a lot of money to-day, mother, in order to bring you all that you need.”

“But I need nothing, as I have the material for making herb tea.”

“Oh! nobody knows! if you get better, perhaps a little beef soup won’t be a bad thing for you. When a fellow is out on the boulevard early, he is more apt to find work. There are maids who have bundles to send, people who have to go into the country and are looking for a cab----”

“Poor Georget! what a miserable trade yours is! Knowing how to write and figure as you do, you ought to have found a place in some office, or a clerkship in some shop.”

“Oh, yes! and wait a year or two before earning any kind of a salary! Don’t think about that any more, mother; I am very happy as I am! A clerk! shut up all day in an office! oh! how sick I should get of that! then I should never see her!”

“Who is it that you’d never see, my child?”

Georget blushed, but made haste to reply:

“I mean that I shouldn’t see you during the day, whenever I wanted to. By the way, mother, I must go to see the gentleman on the third floor, the gentleman who is so kind, although he doesn’t show it. I am going to return his twenty francs.”

“Isn’t it a little too early? He isn’t up yet, probably.”

“Oh! I am very sure that he gets up early; he isn’t one of the kind to coddle himself. Anyway, I’ll ask his valet, that mulatto who’s such a strange creature, they say.”

“Go, my dear, and thank the gentleman from me, until I can do it myself.”

Georget cast a glance at the mirror to make sure that nothing was lacking in his costume. When a man is in love, he becomes particular about his looks, and Georget would have been very glad to please the pretty flower girl of the Château d’Eau, who seemed to look upon him as a child; that distressed the poor boy, he was sorry that he was not at least twenty years old, because he thought that then she would pay more attention to him. For we are never content with the passage of time; when we are young, we think that it doesn’t move fast enough; later, we complain because it moves too fast. And yet we know that the wisest course is to take it as it comes; probably we are not often wise, as we are always growling about it.

Georget went down to the third floor, and rang softly at Monsieur Malberg’s door; a very dark mulatto, whose hair age had not yet turned white, and who spoke French very well for a colored man, and very ill for a Parisian, opened the door and recognized the young messenger whom he had met sometimes on the stairs.

“Hullo! it’s Monsieur Georget. Morning, Monsieur Georget! What you come here for so early?”

“Monsieur Pongo, I would like to speak to your master, Monsieur Malberg.”

“Oh! master not up yet, he still sleep; I get up sooner, to tidy the room, rub floor here in the morning without waking master.”

“If he is still asleep, I will wait.”

“Yes, you sit down on a nice little chair, like this.”

“Thanks, Monsieur Pongo; I hope I am not in your way; go on with your work.”

“Yes, yes, then I go very soft and see if monsieur still sleep.”

The mulatto went into another room. Georget sat down and waited. After a few moments he heard voices in the next room and supposed that Monsieur Malberg was awake. But still he was left alone, nobody came, and Georget, beginning to be impatient, coughed, walked about the room and stole softly to the door, which was ajar. He was surprised to find that the mulatto was alone, but that as he did his work, he kept up a steady conversation with all the furniture and other objects in the study, which to him were people to whom he gave names, according to the custom of the people of his country.

“You stay there, Broubrou!” said Pongo to a tall Voltaire easy-chair. “You all right, you satisfied, all brushed, all cleaned, all ready for master to use, unless he take Babo, the little horsehair chair. Oh! Babo, you’d be mighty pleased if master took you instead of Madame Broubrou! she take up much more room.--There! now you all cleaned, well rubbed, good ‘nough to eat.--But I forget Zima; where you hide yourself, Zima? oh! no good for you to hide yourself, I know all right how to find you.”

And the mulatto looked in every corner of the room, and at last succeeded in finding a small bamboo cane with a gilt head. It was that cane to which Pongo had given the name of Zima. He took it up and shook it impatiently, muttering:

“Ah! Mamzelle Zima, you try to make fun of Pongo and keep out of sight a long time. Suppose me cross and not rub you head to make you shine, how you like that, eh, Mamzelle Zima?”

At this point, the scene between the mulatto and the cane was interrupted by shouts of laughter. They came from Georget, who, not being used to the customs of Africa, had been unable to restrain longer the desire to laugh, caused by the faithful Pongo’s monologue. He turned when he heard the laughter, and seeing the youth, began to laugh too, and, cane in hand, to take several steps of a strange dance which recalled the famous dance of the _Cocos,_ performed in all the melodramas in which negroes are introduced.

A ring at the bell interrupted this extemporaneous ballet; Pongo dropped Mademoiselle Zima, and left the study, saying:

“That’s master, he ring for me; he awake, I go tell him that you waiting.”

A few moments later the mulatto returned, and ushered Georget into Monsieur Malberg’s bedroom; that gentleman was enveloped in an ample dressing-gown and held a newspaper, which he seemed to be reading.

He glanced at Georget, who remained bashfully in the doorway of the room, twisting his cap about in his hands.

“It’s you, is it, young man? What do you want of me so early in the morning? Is your mother sicker?”

“Oh, no! thanks to heaven and to you, monsieur! But I have come because I found this twenty francs in the pocket in which monsieur was kind enough to put some herbs for me to make my mother some tea. It was another kindness on monsieur’s part, no doubt, but he is too kind; we must not keep this money, for it would take us too long to return it; and so I have brought the twenty francs back.”

The gentleman in the dressing-gown resumed the perusal of his newspaper, as he answered in a crabbed tone:

“I don’t know what you mean; the money is yours, if it was in your pocket; keep it and let me alone.”

“But, monsieur, I am very sure that that twenty francs isn’t mine, as I didn’t own a sou to buy sugar, and that was why I was crying on the landing.”

“Well! what then? how does that concern me?”

“Why, monsieur, as nobody else but you put anything in my pocket, it must have been you who put these five-franc pieces there.”

“You are dreaming!”

“Oh, no!”

“It wasn’t I!”

“I am sure that it was!”

“Corbleu! you tire me! Well, suppose it was? If I chose to put those five-franc pieces in your pocket, am I not at liberty to put my money where I choose? Do you propose to prevent me from helping you, when I have too much money, and know that you haven’t enough? You are very proud, it seems, master messenger?”

“Oh! it isn’t that, monsieur; but you have already overwhelmed us with your kindness; it would be wrong to show our appreciation of it by accepting what we don’t need.”

“You lie! you do need money, for last night you were without a sou, and I don’t suppose that you have earned any during the night.”

“But, monsieur, my mother has all she needs now, and I am going to earn some money to-day.”

“Oho! you are very confident, aren’t you? How do you know that you will find work to-day, that it will be a good day for you?”

“Why! monsieur, it very seldom happens that a whole day passes without someone employing us; a man would have to be very unlucky to have that happen.”

“And you think that you are in no danger of such bad luck? Well, tell me how you expect to earn money for your mother?”

“By doing errands, monsieur, as that is my business.”

“And how much do you get for an errand usually?”

“Why, that depends, monsieur, on how far I have to go; and then some people are more generous than others.”

“But about how much?”

“Twelve sous, fifteen sous, sometimes twenty sous; but that’s not often, unless we carry bundles.”

“And you take without a murmur whatever anyone chooses to give you?”

“To be sure, monsieur, as it’s the pay for our work.”

“Well, Monsieur Georget, I take you for my messenger from to-day; and it’s my pleasure to pay you two francs for every errand that you do for me.”

“Oh! that is too much, monsieur; no one ever pays as much as that.”

“If it suits me to pay that price, do you propose to prevent me from being more generous than other people?--You understand then, the twenty francs that you have received is a payment in advance on account of the errands you may do for me.”

“Yes, monsieur; then it’s for ten errands.”

“Exactly, for ten errands.”

“But there’s the sugar too.”

“Confound it! now it’s the sugar! well, call it one errand more.”

“Monsieur is mistaken; it was at least nine pounds of sugar, and that makes--that makes--I don’t know just the price of sugar.”

“Nor I; say no more about it, and don’t bother me with all these trifles!”

“And the charcoal, monsieur?”

“This little fellow has evidently made a vow to drive me mad! Call it as many errands as you choose, and let me alone.”

“I will call it fifteen, monsieur, but I am very sorry that I have offended monsieur, who is so very kind, and I will go, monsieur, I will go!”

And Georget had already reached the door, when Monsieur Malberg called him back.

“Listen, my boy, as you seem in such a hurry to pay your debt to me, I will employ you at once.”

“Oh! so much the better, monsieur, so much the better!”

“Listen: there is somewhere or other in the world a person whom I lost sight of almost--almost nineteen years ago, and whom I am very desirous to find. At that time, the gentleman in question, for it is a gentleman that I am talking about, was some thirty-three or thirty-four years of age; he was tall, with a good figure, and was rather a handsome man. Moreover, he was a dandy, a man of fashion, and always dressed with much elegance; but as that was nineteen years ago, his appearance may have changed greatly! However, the man’s name is Monsieur de Roncherolle.”

“Very good, monsieur; and where did this handsome Monsieur de--de----”

“Roncherolle.”

“Roncherolle live? Oh! I shall not forget the name again.”

“He lived--but what good will it do you to know where he lived then, as at that time he suddenly left his lodgings in Paris, and left France, I imagine?”

“Still, he might have returned to his lodgings since.”

“Do you suppose that I haven’t been there a hundred times to inquire? No, he has never come back to the place where he used to live; but he did come back to Paris ten years ago, I am certain of that; but I was travelling then, and we never met. When I returned, he had gone away again; but, if I can believe certain reports, certain indications, he returned to Paris some time ago, and is living--in what quarter of the city? I have no idea. You see that the errand that I give you is a difficult one. For a very long time, I, myself, have been looking for that gentleman, but have failed to find him. If you succeed in discovering him, why, then I shall look upon myself as your debtor, and shall find a way to prove my gratitude to you!”

“Monsieur is jesting! he forgets that he has already paid me in advance for fifteen errands. But if only this Monsieur de Roncherolle has not changed his name--for in that case it would be very difficult to find him!”

“He will not have changed his name, for he belongs to an old family, and was very proud of it.”

“Did he do anything?”

“Nothing except use up his fortune as slowly as possible; and in all this time he must have gone to the end of it. However, he has probably retained his youthful habits: it is in the Chaussée d’Antin quarter, at the close of the Opéra, or of the Théâtre des Italiens, or in front of the best restaurants in Paris, that you are likely to find him, that chance may lead to his being called by name in your presence; for you do not know him, my poor boy, you have no description of him, and I can supply you with no other means of identifying him. So I fancy that I am giving you a commission impossible to execute!”

“Why so, monsieur? We hear so many things, we messengers! We go about in all sorts of places; we see the whole of Paris, and I will bet that I discover him, and in that case I will come instantly and report what I have learned.”

“That goes without saying.”

“But this commission will not prevent monsieur from giving me others; and if he has any letters to deliver----”

“Yes, yes; very well; now go.”

Georget left the bedroom; in the reception room he found Pongo in a serious dispute with Mademoiselle Zima, who had fallen twice to the floor and refused to rise without assistance. But Georget had no time to stop; he was in too great a hurry to tell his mother of his interview with the gentleman on the third floor. He lost no time in doing so, as soon as he was with the excellent woman; and he tossed the four five-franc pieces on the bed, exclaiming:

“They are really ours now, for that gentleman absolutely insisted on paying me in advance. So we are rich! You shall have everything you want; besides, I am going to earn money too. Good-by, mother; stay in bed, and take care of yourself.”

“Why, Georget, you go off in such a hurry; you must take one of these pieces at least; for you must live too.”

“No, mother, I don’t mean to touch that money; I mean to earn some first of all, and not eat my breakfast until I have worked.”

“Georget, that’s nonsense! Will you listen to me?”

But the young messenger was not listening; he was already at the foot of the stairs, and in front of the concierge’s lodge, where he found Madame Baudoin, alone, still gazing with an air of deep affliction at the marks of the brandy on the floor.

Georget’s first thought was to go to the Boulevard du Château d’Eau, where he was very certain to find Violette, for the flower girl was always there, even when it was not a market day. That was the advantage of her branch of business; hand bouquets are of all times, and there are some flowers in all seasons; which is very fortunate for lovers, who give them all the year around, and for the ladies, who would like to receive them all their lives.