Chapter XXXI: The Effects of Time

But our plans are traced on sand; and then too, sad as it is to admit it, champagne is not really good for the gout.

On the day following that dinner party, during which Roncherolle had given instruction in such pleasant matters, instead of going as he hoped to pay a visit to the Baronne de Grangeville, he was obliged to keep his bed; his gout had returned, more obstinate and more painful than ever; the poor invalid lost his temper, complained, swore like one possessed, because it seemed to him that that relieved him; and finally he said to himself:

"I won't give any more lessons in drinking champagne."

At the end of three days, all that Roncherolle could do was to lie at full length in his reclining chair, with his foot on cushions; then, as he could not hope to leave the house for some time, he sent the young man of the house, Beauvinet, to bring his usual messenger; and Chicotin soon appeared before him.

"Look you, my boy," said Roncherolle, "I have been shrewder than you--I have discovered Madame de Grangeville's address."

"The deuce you have! however did you do it? You can hardly walk!"

"I could walk a few days ago, and if it hadn't been for an infernal dinner--but faith, I guess I won't curse that dinner, for I enjoyed myself hugely; and after all, if I suffer, I suffer for something; let us return to the lady; the Baronne de Grangeville lives on Rue Fontaine-Saint-Georges, number 21 or 23; I am not quite sure of the number but it's in the twenties."

"Oh! that's enough, bourgeois; that's all I need; if necessary, I will try all the houses in the street."

"Very good; now take this five-franc piece; you will go and buy a bouquet for which you will pay three francs, no less, understand; don't try to cheat me."

"Oh! never you fear, bourgeois, that's all right; if the flower girl should ask only forty sous, I would give her three francs."

"But I should prefer that the girl should ask three francs; the bouquet will be finer."

"It's all right; never you fear, the bouquet will be a good one."

"When you have got it, you will take it to Madame de Grangeville from me, and you will tell her that Monsieur de Roncherolle sends his respects and that he will come to see her as soon as he can go out."

"I will say when you get over your gout."

"No, don't mention my gout, that isn't necessary. Say to her that I am indisposed; that is all, do you understand?"

"Yes, bourgeois, never fear; it will all go as if it was on wheels; and shall I come back and tell you what answer the lady gives me?"

"Naturally."

"I am off. By the way, bourgeois, perhaps you don't know, but no doubt you will soon receive a visit from a friend of yours; that happens just right; you are sick and it will amuse you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that yesterday, no longer ago than that, I saw my old comrade Georget, a good fellow, who's in the dumps all the time because he's in love. But that's another story; it would take too long to tell you."

"I will excuse you from telling it, but come to the point at once."

"Well, while we were talking, I mentioned your name; it happens that his master at Nogent knows you and would like to see you; he didn't know your address, so I gave it to Georget."

"What is the name of this gentleman at Nogent?"

"His name is Monsieur Malberg."

"I don't know anybody by that name; your comrade must have made a mistake and taken one name for another. But go about your errand to Madame de Grangeville, and above all things buy a pretty bouquet."

"I should say so! if I didn't get a fine one for three francs, it would be funny."

Chicotin took his leave. Roncherolle stretched out his leg, made a wry face and uttered a hearty oath, because of the pain; then he laid his head on the back of his chair and tried to sleep.

Five minutes passed; the hall door opened again, and a gentleman appeared in the doorway; it was the Comte de Brevanne, who said as he glanced into the chamber:

"Monsieur de Roncherolle, if you please?"

Receiving no reply, the count decided to enter; he saw a gentleman dozing, who had not been shaved for several days, whose head was covered with a huge fur cap, which fell almost over his eyes, and who was wrapped in an old dressing gown of which it was not easy to tell the color. He shook his head, saying:

"That boy must have directed me to the wrong door, this can't be the place. Roncherolle would not live in such a wretchedly furnished room; besides, this sick old gentleman in the chair must be at home. I must try elsewhere."

Brevanne was about to go away, when Roncherolle opened his eyes and seeing a stranger in his room, cried:

"What is it? What do you want of me? Why are you here, monsieur?"

At the sound of that voice, which had not changed so much as the person to whom it belonged, the count stopped, shuddered slightly and repeated in a loud voice:

"I want Monsieur de Roncherolle."

"Well, I am De Roncherolle! what do you want of me?"

The count stepped forward; he scrutinized the man before him, and he wondered if that pale, sick creature, whose face had grown thin and indicated long suffering, who seemed to be at least sixty years old, and whose costume was far from denoting prosperous circumstances, could possibly be Roncherolle, formerly so dandified and magnificent, who was cited as a model for men of fashion, and whom all the women admired.

As for Roncherolle, for some moments he had been looking attentively at his visitor; the more he looked at him, the more keenly did his features betray the emotion which he felt; and at last when the count exclaimed:

"Is it really true that you are De Roncherolle?" he instantly replied:

"To be sure, and you are De Brevanne!"

The count recoiled, exclaiming:

"You dare to use intimate terms to me, monsieur!"

"Oh! I beg your pardon, that's true; I should not address you so; I forgot, it was the old habit; but hereafter I will be more careful. Pray sit down, monsieur le comte; I knew you at once, for, except that your hair is turning gray, you are but little changed; whereas with me it is very different; you could not believe that it was I. I have grown old rapidly, I crumbled all at once; add to that all sorts of annoyances, the change in my position, and people turning their backs upon me because I can no longer oblige them, and others because I did oblige them formerly, like Beaumont, De Marcey and De Juvigny! But I am chattering away and you are still standing; pray take a seat and be good enough to tell what brings you here."

"You ask me what brings me, monsieur!" retorted De Brevanne, still standing in front of De Roncherolle. "You ask me that! you mean that you do not divine?"

"Faith, no!"

"When you see once more the man whom you shamelessly outraged, and whom you have eluded for so many years, you do not divine that he comes to demand the satisfaction which you refused him so long ago?"

"Bah! do you really mean it's for that? What! after so long a time, after twenty years, you still think of that business?"

"There is no limitation in matters relating to honor."

"Ah! that makes a difference; you are obstinate about it. I am sorry for that; but did not I admit my fault? Didn't I ask your pardon long ago? Come, Brevanne, come, does not heaven say: 'mercy for all sins?' We were such good friends once."

"Hush! do not appeal to the memory of that friendship, which makes your conduct even more odious. But let us not waste time in useless talk; for twenty years I have been looking for you, to fight with you; I have found you to-day, and I trust that you will no longer refuse to give me satisfaction."

"Since you are bent upon it! Mon Dieu! men are supposed to become reasonable when they grow old; the fact is that they are never reasonable.--Honor! honor! oh! how right Beaumarchais was!--All this is infernally stupid, on my word!"

"Well, monsieur?"

"Well, I will do whatever you wish; arrange it for--for--ah! ten thousand million thunders! how I suffer! how I suffer!"

A violent attack of pain seized the invalid; he turned pale, his voice died away, great drops of perspiration rolled down his cheeks, the contraction of his features proved the violence of the pain that he felt, and the count was deeply moved at sight of his suffering; he looked all about the room in search of something to help him. He saw on the mantelpiece a phial filled with a liquid; he took it and offered it to Roncherolle.

"Here, perhaps this is what you take when you have such attacks. Drink."

"No," replied Roncherolle, pushing away the phial. "Let me suffer; I have well earned it; you see what I am reduced to; if you kill me, instead of punishing me you will do me a favor."

"Monsieur," said the count, "the duel cannot take place while you are in this condition, I appreciate that; I must wait until you are cured, in order that I may have an adversary worthy of me. I leave you, and I will come again a fortnight hence to learn how you are."

"Oh! as you please. Are you going?"

And with an involuntary gesture Roncherolle put out his hand to the count; but he contented himself with a slight inclination of the head, saying:

"I will send somebody to you, monsieur, to help you."

Then he took his leave, still upset by what he had seen, saying to himself:

"What a change! he is unrecognizable. Ah! he is in a still worse plight than she!"

"If he waits until I get over the gout to fight with me," said Roncherolle to himself, "I fancy that our duel is indefinitely postponed. What a devil of a man!--Ah! that attack is passing away; that is lucky.--Poor Brevanne; he has hardly changed at all; and in the bottom of my heart I was secretly glad to see him, we used to be such good friends, and I should have been so happy to renew our friendship! He would not have turned his back on me, like all those others whom I obliged long ago, and who will have nothing to say to me now, because I lent them money and they don't want to repay it. But what is done is done. Oh! these women! they are the cause of all the follies that we commit."

Beauvinet opened the hall door and put his head in, saying:

"The gentleman who just went out said that monsieur had a bad attack and needed attention; so I came----"

"Clear out and leave me in peace!" retorted Roncherolle, striking the floor angrily with his cane.

The young man did not wait for that invitation to be repeated; he disappeared like a stage shadow-figure, and slammed the door behind his back.

"But he will come again in a fortnight," reflected the invalid after a moment. "He is a man of his word, he won't fail to come; and if, as I must hope, I am in condition to walk, I shall have to meet him.--Fight with him! well, if he is obstinate about it, I will be equally obstinate.--Who is coming to disturb me now, ten thousand devils?"

"Why, it's me," said Chicotin, entering the room; "I did your errand, bourgeois, and I did it well, I flatter myself; in the first place, I bought a superb bouquet; oh! it was A No. 1; it was worth four francs rather than three. I didn't buy it of Mamzelle Violette, just to make her mad; I don't mean to buy anything more of her. But you don't care anything about that.--I went to Rue Fontaine-Saint-Georges, and I found Madame la Baronne de Grangeville, not in the twenties, but at 19, but that don't make any difference. They let me in, and I found the lady sitting in a great machine. To cut it short, when I said to her: 'Madame, it is Monsieur de Roncherolle who sends you this bouquet, with all sorts of messages;' if you had seen what a jump that lady gave on her--her divan, just like a carp in the frying pan; then she said: 'Monsieur de Roncherolle! what, is he in Paris? Tell him to come and see me right away, as soon as possible; I shall expect him impatiently.'--I answered: 'Madame, certainly, to be sure--that's what he means to do; he will come as soon as he can stand on his pins'--oh, no! I didn't say pins, I said legs; and then I bowed and left, and she didn't give me anything."

"Well, keep the rest of the money I gave you."

"Thanks, bourgeois, thanks; and did your friend from Nogent come to see you?"

"Yes, yes, he came, my friend. Do you know, Chicotin, that you're a wretched chatterbox, and that I ought to pull your ears for giving anyone my address without finding out whether I wanted you to?"

"Mon Dieu! did I make a fool of myself? Isn't your friend your friend any longer?"

"Yes, you did make a fool of yourself; but I hope that you won't do it again; meanwhile, you are responsible for my having to leave this house, which, however, I hardly regret."

"Are you going to move?"

"Yes, in a few days, as soon as I can walk. But I don't propose to take furnished lodgings again; he would find me, he would visit them all. I mean to hire a room in some quiet house, and furnish it myself. That won't take long; a bed, a table, two chairs and a bureau, that is all that I need. Listen, Chicotin, while I am unable to go about, you must find those things for me, so that I shall simply have to move in as soon as I am cured. Do you understand,--just a small apartment, as neat and clean as possible; a bedroom and a study, that will be enough for me."

"All right, bourgeois, I understand; I'll look about for you. In what quarter?"

"I don't care."

"Oh! then I can find something easier. How much do you want to pay for your lodgings?"

"Hum! as little as possible; the funds are decreasing every day, my boy!"

"Do you want to go as high as eighty francs?"

"A quarter?"

"Oh, no! What next! I mean for a year."

"You can get nothing better than a garret, a kennel for that price. You may go as high as two hundred francs,--two hundred and fifty."

"In that case, bourgeois, I'll find you something fine, a little palace; I propose that you shall be more comfortable than you are now."

"You won't have much difficulty about that; try not to make me go up too many stairs."

"Pardi! for two hundred and fifty francs you ought to be able to obtain a magnificent lodging on the first floor."

"I don't think it. However, attend to it at once."

Three days after this conversation, Chicotin entered Roncherolle's room with a triumphant air; he found him getting better, and walking about the room.

"Here I am, bourgeois, I've found what you want. I think you'll be satisfied; but lodgings are dearer than I thought; I couldn't find a lodging on the first floor for your two hundred and fifty francs."

"Well, what have you found?"

"I have found two pleasant little rooms, for two hundred francs, no more; fresh paper, not colored, but you can put one on; and a view--oh! such a view! as good as if you was on the Arc de Triomphe; and all the conveniences right at your door; and a waxed staircase, not up to the top, but as far as the third floor."

"What floor is this apartment on?"

"Why, on the fifth, bourgeois!"

"Sacrebleu! I am not surprised that there is a good view; is that what you call getting me a lodging near the ground?"

"There ain't any to be had, master; but the stairs are as easy as can be; you can go up without moving your legs; and then there is a concierge who is willing to do the housework for all the tenants, at a very moderate price, and even to make the coffee."

"There are many advantages, and no mistake; where is this jewel of an apartment situated?"

"Not very far from here, monsieur, on Rue de Crussol; it's near the boulevard, near that handsome round theatre for horses, that's just been built."

"I don't know Rue de Crussol."

"If monsieur is able to walk, I will show him the way there."

"Go and fetch a carriage, and you may take me to see the lodgings."

"Right away, bourgeois."

Chicotin went out to fetch a cab, and climbed up behind when Roncherolle was inside. They stopped on Rue de Crussol in front of the house which Chicotin pointed out. An old concierge, very dirty but very polite, made repeated reverences to Roncherolle, and bustled upstairs before him, while Chicotin said to the old gentleman:

"If you don't want to go up, bourgeois, because it tires you, why I will take you on my back. I am strong and I won't drop you; I would carry you that way through the streets if you wanted."

"Thanks, my boy, but that new style of locomotion does not attract me, and I doubt whether I could make it the fashion. Besides, they say that one must walk about and exercise with the gout. So I will go up on my feet."

"If you must exercise, you see that it is much better that you should live on the fifth floor."

Roncherolle inspected the lodgings, heaved a profound sigh in spite of himself, and reflected:

"After all, what can one expect to get for two hundred francs? It's all I can afford--in fact, rather more."

He gave the concierge her earnest money, informing her that he relied upon her to do the housework and to make his coffee; whereupon the old woman redoubled her reverences and her politeness, crying:

"I hope monsieur will like our house; I shall always be ready to wait on him; whenever he needs anything, all he has got to do is to put his head out of the window and call Mere Lamort, and I will go up in a second."

"What did you say that I must call you, madame?"

"Mere Lamort."

"Ah! your name is Lamort, is it?"

"At your service, monsieur."

"You are very good; you have, I won't say a devil of a name, but a singular name, at least; an almost terrifying name."

"Mon Dieu! monsieur, that don't prevent me from being as well as can be, or from having had twelve children, who are all as well as you or I."

"For their sakes, I hope they are as well as you."

"And monsieur will see that my name don't prevent me from having a good foot and a good eye; and he'll be satisfied with my services."

"I don't doubt it; we shall meet again soon, Madame Lamort."

Roncherolle returned to his cab, and Chicotin climbed up behind again, saying to the driver:

"I am in monsieur's suite, in his suite, I say."[A]

[A] An untranslatable pun: 'Je suis de la suite de monsieur; de sa suite, j'en suis.'

Two days later, Roncherolle, having purchased just what he absolutely needed to furnish his new lodgings, paid what he owed at his quarters, and announced that they might let his room.

"Ah! monsieur is leaving us?" said Beauvinet, pulling at one side of his wig. "If anyone comes to ask for monsieur, what address shall I give?"

"You may send them to Passage I-don't-know-where, the first door to the right as you enter Paris by the Barriere de l'Etoile."

When Roncherolle had been gone a long time, the young man was still pulling at his wig, saying to himself:

"Passage I-don't-know-where! that's funny; I know all the passages in Paris except that one."