THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 H. DE BALZAC 
 
 THE COMEDIE HUMAINE
 
 SHE FOUND CHAUDET IN HIS BLUE OVERALL, MODELING 
 HIS LATEST STATUE.
 
 H. DE BALZAC 
 
 A Bachelor's 
 
 Establishment 
 
 ( Un Menage de garcon ) 
 
 AND OTHER STORIES 
 
 TKANSLATEO BY 
 
 CLARA BELL 
 
 WITH A PKEFAC'E BY 
 
 GEORGE SAINTSBURY 
 
 *J& 
 
 PHILADELPHIA 
 
 The (Debbie Publishing Co., Ltd. 
 1898 .
 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 704717 
 
 FAG* 
 
 ix 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT .... I 
 
 PEACE IN THE HOUSE 3* 1 
 
 LA GRENADIERE 362
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 SHE FOUND CHAUDET IN HIS ILUE OVERALL, MODELING HIS 
 
 latest statue (p. 27 J Frtntisfiece. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PHILIPPE'S FIRST IDEA WAS TO SEARCH THE BED ... 76 
 
 "WHERE DO YOU COME FROM, LITTLE ONE? I NEVER SAW YOU 
 
 BEFORE" 139 
 
 "TTCK IT UP!" HE SAID, PAUSING IN THE FIGHT . . .282 
 
 AGaTHE DROPPED THE LETTER 3O3 
 
 Drawn by D. Murray-Smith.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 "A Bachelor's Establishment " — the third part of " Les 
 Celibataires " (The Bachelors) — takes very high rank among 
 its companions. As in most of his best books, Balzac has set 
 at work divers favorite springs of action, and has introduced 
 personages of whom he has elsewhere given, not exactly rep- 
 licas — he never did that — but companion portraits. And he 
 has once more justified the proceeding amply. Whether he 
 has not also justified the reproach, such as it is, of those who 
 say that to see the most congenial expression of his fullest 
 genius, you must go to his bad characters and not to his 
 good, readers shall determine for themselves after reading the 
 book. 
 
 It was the product of the year 1842, when the author was 
 at the ripest of his powers, and after which, with the exception 
 of "Les Parents Pauvres," he produced not much of his very 
 best save in continuations and rehandlings of earlier efforts. 
 He changed his title a good deal, and in that MS. correction 
 of a copy of the " Comedie " which has been taken, perhaps 
 without absolutely decisive authority, as the basis of the 
 Edition Definitive, he adopted " La Rabouilleuse " as his latest 
 favorite. This, besides its quaintness, has undoubted merit 
 as fixing the attention on one at least of the chief figures of 
 the book, while " Un Menage de garcon " only obliquely indi- 
 cates the real purport of the novel. Jean-Jacques Rouget is a 
 most unfortunate creature, who anticipates Baron Hulot as an 
 example of absolute dependence on things of the flesh, plus 
 a kind of cretinism, which Hulot, to do him justice, does not 
 exhibit even in his worst degradation. But his " bachelor 
 establishment," though undoubtedly useful for the purposes 
 of the story, might have been changed for something else, and 
 
 (ix)
 
 x PREFACE. 
 
 his personality have been considerably altered without very 
 much affecting the general drift of the fiction. 
 
 Flore Brazier, on the other hand, the Rabouilleuse herself, 
 is essential, and with Maxence Gilet and Philippe Bridau 
 form the centre of the action and the passion of the book. 
 She ranks, indeed, with those few feminine types, Valerie Mar- 
 neffe, La Cousine Bette, Eugenie Grandet, Beatrix, Madame 
 de Maufrigneuse, and perhaps Esther Gobseck, whom Balzac 
 has tried to draw at full length. It is to be observed that 
 though quite without morals of any kind, she is not ab initio 
 or intrinsically a she-fiend like Valerie or Lisbeth. She does 
 not do harm for harm's sake, nor even directly to gratify spite, 
 greed, or other purely unsocial and detestable passions. She 
 is a type of feminine sensuality of the less ambitious and rest- 
 less sort. Given a decent education, a fair fortune, a good- 
 looking and vigorous husband to whom she had taken a fancy, 
 and no special temptation, and she might have been a blame- 
 less, merry, " sonsy " commere, and have died in an odor of 
 very reasonable sanctity. Poverty, ignorance, the Rougets 
 (father and son), Maxence Gilet, and Philippe Bridau came in 
 her way, and she lived and died as Balzac has shown her. He 
 has done nothing more " inevitable; " few things more com- 
 plete and satisfactory. 
 
 Maxence Gilet is a not much less remarkable sketch, though 
 it is not easy to say that he is on the same level. Gilet is the 
 man of distinct gifts, of some virtues, or caricatures of virtues, 
 who goes to the devil through idleness, fullness of bread, and 
 lack of any worthy occupation. He is extraordinarily uncon- 
 ventional for a French figure in fiction drawn by such a French 
 genius as Balzac. But he is also hardly to be called a great 
 type, and I do not quite see why he should have succumbed 
 before Philippe as he did. 
 
 Philippe himself is more complicated, and, perhaps, more 
 questionable. He is certainly one of Balzac's fleurs du mal ; 
 he is studied and personally conducted from beginning to end
 
 PREFACE. xi 
 
 with an extraordinary and loving care ; but is he quite " of a 
 piece?" That he should have succeeded in defeating the 
 combination against which his virtuous mother and brother 
 failed is not an undue instance of the irony of life. The de- 
 feat of such adversaries as Flore and Max has, of course, the 
 merit of poetical justice and the interest of "diamond cut 
 diamond." But is not the terrible Philippe Bridau, the 
 " Mephistopheles a cheval" of the latter part of the book, 
 rather inconsistent with the commonplace ne'er-do-weel of the 
 earlier? Not only does it require no unusual genius to waste 
 money, when you have it, in the channels of the drinking-shop, 
 the gaming-table, and elsewhere, to sponge for more on your 
 mother and brother, to embezzle when they are squeezed dry, 
 and to take to downright robbery when nothing else is left ; 
 but a person who, in the various circumstances and oppor- 
 tunities of Bridau, finds nothing better to do than these 
 ordinary things, can hardly be a person of exceptional intel- 
 lectual resource. There is here, surely, that sudden and unac- 
 counted-for change of character which the second-rate novelist 
 and dramatist may permit himself, but from which the first-rate 
 should abstain. 
 
 This, however, may be an academic objection, and certainly 
 the book is of first-class interest. The minor characters, the 
 mother and brother, the luckless aunt, with her combination 
 at last turning up when the rascal Philippe has stolen her 
 stake-money, the satellites and abettors of Max in the club of 
 "La Desoeuvrance," the slightly theatrical Spaniard, and all 
 the rest of them, are excellent. The book is an eminently 
 characteristic one — more so, indeed, than more than one of 
 those in which people are often invited to make acquaintance 
 with Balzac. 
 
 The third story of "Les Celibataires" has a rather more va- 
 ried bibliographical history than the others. The first part, that 
 dealing with the early misconduct of Philippe Bridau, was pub- 
 lished separately, as "Les Deux Freres," in the Presse during
 
 xii PREFACE. 
 
 the spring of 1S41, and a year or so later in volumes. It had 
 nine chapters with headings. The volume form also included 
 under the same title the second part, which, as " Un Menage 
 de garcon en Province," had been published in the same 
 newspaper in the autumn of 1S42. This had sixteen chapters 
 in both issues, and in the volumes two part-headings — one 
 identical with the newspaper title, and the other "A qui la 
 Succession ? " The whole book then took rank in the " Com- 
 edie " under the second title, " Un Menage de garcon," and 
 retained this during Balzac's life and long afterwards. In the 
 Edition Definitive, as observed above, he had marked it as 
 "La Rabouilleuse," after also having thought of " Le Bon- 
 homme Rouget." For English use, the better known, though 
 not last or best title, is clearly preferable, as it can be trans- 
 lated, while "La Rabouilleuse " cannot. 
 
 The short story of " La Grenadiere," which, by the way, 
 was much twisted about in its author's hands, and underwent 
 transformations too long to be summarized here, first appeared 
 in the Revue de Paris for October, 1832, was a "Scene de la 
 vie de Province" next year, and was shifted to the "Vie 
 Privee" when the " Comedie " was first arranged. 
 
 The other short story, "The Peace of the House," formed 
 part of the " Scenes de la vie Privee " from their first appear- 
 ance in 1830, and entered with the rest into the " Comddie." 
 Then, and then only, was the dedication to Valentine Survillc, 
 Balzac's niece, added. G. S.
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 To Monsieur Charles Nodier, 
 
 Member of the French Academy, 
 
 Chief Librarian at the Arsenal. 
 
 Here, my dear Nodier, you have a book full of 
 those incidents which escape the action of the law 
 under the shelter of domestic privacy ; but in which 
 the finger of God, so often called chance, takes the 
 place of human justice, while the moral is not the less 
 striking and instructive for being uttered by a satirist. 
 The outcome, to my mind, is a great lesson for the 
 
 family, and for motherhood. We shall perhaps dis- 
 cover too late the effects of diminished paternal power. 
 That authority, which formerly ceased only on the 
 
 father's death, constituted the one human tribunal at 
 which domestic crimes could be tried, and on great 
 occasions the sovereign would ratify and carry out its 
 decisions. However tender and kind the mother may 
 be, she can no more supply that patriarchal rule than 
 a woman can fill a man' s place on the throne ; when 
 the exception occurs, the creature is a monster. 
 
 I have never, perhaps, drawn a picture which 
 shows more clearly than this how indispensable the 
 stability of marriage is to European society, what the 
 sorrows are of woman' s weakness, what dangers are 
 involved in unbridled self-interest. It is to be hoped 
 that a society based solely on the power of money may 
 tremble when it sees the impotence of justice over the 
 
 [Note : This story forms the third part of " The Celibates " and con- 
 stitutes Balzac's second volume under that title. — Pub.] 
 
 * (1)
 
 2 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 complications of a system which deifies success and 
 condones every means to achieve it: That it may 
 have prompt recourse to the Catholic church for purifi- 
 cation of the masses by religious feeling, and by some 
 education other than that of a lay University ! 
 Enough fine characters, enough instances of great and 
 noble devotion will have been seen in my "Scenes of 
 Military Life ; " so I may be allowed here to show 
 what depravity results from the exigencies of war in 
 certain minds which dare to act in private life as they 
 would on the field of battle. 
 
 You have studied our times with a sagacious eye, 
 and your philosophy betrays itself by more than one 
 bitter refection in the course of your elegant pages ; 
 you, better than any one, have appreciated the mischief 
 done to the spirit of our nation by four different politi- 
 cal systems. 
 
 I could not, therefore, place this fiarrative under 
 the protection of a more competent authority. Your 
 name, perhaps, may defend this work against the out- 
 cry it is sure to raise. Where is there a sufferer who 
 keeps silence when the surgeon uncovers his most burn- 
 ing wounds ? The pleasure of dedicating this drama 
 to you is enhanced by my pride in betraying your good- 
 will for him who here signs himself one of your sincere 
 admirers, 
 
 De Balzac. 
 
 In 1792 the citizens of Issoudun rejoiced in a doctor 
 named Rouget, who was regarded as a very deep fox. Some 
 bold folks asserted that he made his wife very unhappy, 
 though she was the handsomest woman in the town. Perhaps 
 this wife was rather a simpleton. In spite of the inqui.sitive- 
 ness of friends, the gossip of outsiders, and the evil-speaking 
 of the envious, the circumstances of the household were little
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 3 
 
 known. Doctor Rouget was one of the men of whom it is 
 commonly said that "they are not easy to get on with." 
 And so, as long as he lived, little was said about him, and he 
 was treated civilly. 
 
 His wife, a Demoiselle Descoings, somewhat sickly as a 
 girl — one reason, it was said, why the doctor married her — 
 had first a son, and then a daughter, born as it happened ten 
 years after her brother, and not expected by the doctor, it 
 was always reported, though he was a medical man. This 
 late-born daughter was named Agathe. 
 
 These facts are so simple and commonplace that the histo- 
 rian hardly seems justified in placing them in the forefront of 
 his narrative ; but if they remained unknown, a man of Doc- 
 tor Rouget's temper would be condemned as a monster, as 
 an unnatural father, whereas he simply obeyed certain evil 
 promptings which many persons defend under the terrible 
 axiom : "A man must know his own mind." This masculine 
 motto has wrought misery for many wives. The Descoings, 
 the doctor's father- and mother-in-law, wool brokers, under- 
 took alike the sale for landowners, or the purchase for wool- 
 merchants of the golden fleeces of Le Berry, and took com- 
 mission from both parties. They grew rich over this business, 
 and then avaricious — the moral of many lives. 
 
 Their son, Descoings junior, a younger brother of Madame 
 Rouget's, did not like Issoudun. He went to seek his fortune 
 in Paris, and set up as a grocer in the Rue Saint-Honore. 
 This was his ruin. But what is to be said ? A grocer is at- 
 tracted to his business by a magnetic force as great as the 
 repulsion which renders it odious to artists. The social forces 
 which make for this or that vocation have been insufficiently 
 studied. It would be curious to know what leads a man to 
 become a stationer rather than a baker, when he is no longer 
 compelled, as among the Egyptians, to succeed to his father's 
 craft. Love had helped to form Descoings' vocation. He 
 had said to himself, "And I, too, will be a grocer ! " when
 
 4 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 he had also said something else on seeing his master's wife, a 
 beautiful creature, with whom he fell over head and ears in 
 love. With no auxiliary but patience and a little money sent 
 him by his father and mother, he married the widow of the 
 worthy Master Bixiou, his predecessor. In 1792 Descoings 
 was regarded as a prosperous man. 
 
 At that time the parents Descoings were still living. They 
 had retired from wool, and invested their wealth in buying 
 government stock — another golden fleece ! Their son-in-law, 
 almost sure ere long to be in mourning for his wife, sent his 
 daughter to his brother-in-law's house in Paris, partly that she 
 might see the capital, but also with a crafty purpose. Desco- 
 ings had no children. Madame Descoings, twelve years older 
 than her husband, was in excellent health, but she was as 
 fat as a thrush after the vintage ; and the wily Rouget had 
 enough medical skill to foresee that Monsieur and Madame 
 Descoings, in contradiction to the philosophy of fairy-tales, 
 would live happy and have no children. The couple might 
 become devoted to Agathe. Now Doctor Rouget wanted to 
 disinherit his daughter, and flattered himself it might be done 
 if he transplanted her from home. 
 
 This young person, at that time the handsomest girl in 
 Issoudun, was not in the least like either her father or her 
 mother. Her birth had been the occasion of a mortal feud 
 between Doctor Rouget and his intimate friend, Monsieur 
 Lousteau, formerly a sub-delegate, who had just left Issoudun. 
 When a family migrates, the natives of a place so delightful 
 as Issoudun have a right to inquire into the reasons of so 
 unheard-of a step. To believe some sharp tongues, Monsieur 
 Rouget, a vindictive man, had sworn that Lousteau should 
 die by his hand alone. From a doctor the speech seemed as 
 deadly as a cannon-ball. When the National Assembly abol- 
 ished delegates, Lousteau left, and never returned to Issoudun. 
 After the removal of this family, Madame Rouget spent all 
 her days with Madame Hochon, the ex-sub-delegate's sister,
 
 A BACH FLORAS ESTABLISHMENT. 5 
 
 her daughter's godmother, and the only person to whom she 
 confided her woes. And what little the citizens of Issoudun 
 ever knew about the beautiful Madame Rouget was told by 
 this good soul, and not till after the doctor's death. 
 
 The first thing Madame Rouget said when her husband 
 spoke of sending Agathe to Paris was, " I shall never see my 
 child again ! " " And she was sadly right," worthy Madame 
 Hochon would add. 
 
 The poor mother then became as yellow as a quince, and 
 her condition by no means gave the lie to those who declared 
 that Rouget was killing her by inches. The ways of her 
 gawky ninny of a son must have contributed to the griefs of 
 the unjustly accused mother. Never checked, or perhaps 
 egged on by his father, the lad, who was altogether stupid, 
 showed his mother none of the attention nor the respect due 
 from a son. Jean-Jacques Rouget was like his father, but 
 even worse; and the doctor was not very admirable, either 
 morally or physically. 
 
 The advent of charming Agathe Rouget brought no good 
 to her uncle Descoings. In the course of the week — or rather 
 of the decade, for the Republic had been proclaimed — he was 
 imprisoned on a hint from Robespierre to Fouquier-Tinville. 
 Descoings, being rash enough to opine that the famine was 
 unreal, was fool enough to communicate his opinion — he 
 imagined that thought was free — to several of his customers, 
 male and female, as he served them over the counter. Cit- 
 | oyenne Duplay, the wife of the carpenter with whom 
 Robespierre lodged, and herself the Great Citizen's house- 
 keeper, unhappily for Descoings, honored his shop with her 
 custom. This citizeness considered the grocer's views as 
 an insult to Maximilian the First. Ill pleased as she was 
 by the manners of the Descoings couple, this illustrious 
 knitter of the Jacobin Club regarded Citoyenne Descoings' 
 beauty as a kind of aristocracy. She added venom to their
 
 6 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 language while repealing it to her benevolent and kind- 
 hearted master. The grocer was arrested on the usual charge 
 of "monopolizing." 
 
 Descoings in prison, his wife made a stir to obtain his 
 release; but her efforts were so ill-judged that any observer 
 hearing her appeal to the arbiters of his fate might have 
 supposed that all she asked was a decent way of getting 
 rid of him. Madame Descoings knew Bridau, one of the 
 secretaries under Roland, minister of the interior, and the 
 right-hand man of all who succeeded to that office. She 
 brought Bridau into the field to save the grocer. This really 
 incorruptible minister, one of those virtuous dupes who are 
 always so admirably disinterested, took good care not to 
 tamper with the men on whom Descoings' fate depended ; he 
 tried to explain ! Now, to explain to the men of that time 
 had about as much effect as thousfh thev had been asked to 
 restore the Bourbons. The Girondin minister, at that time 
 combating Robespierre, said to Bridau, " What business is 
 it of yours? " And each man to whom the worthy secretary 
 applied made the same ruthless reply, "What business is it. 
 of yours? " 
 
 Bridau very prudently advised Madame Descoings to keep 
 quiet ; but she instead of conciliating Robespierre's house- 
 keeper, spouted fire and flame against the informer; she went 
 to see a member of the Convention, who was in fear for him- 
 self, and who said, " I will speak of it to Robespierre." 
 
 On this promise the grocer's wife rested, and her protector 
 naturally did not speak. A few sugar-loaves, a few bottles of 
 good liquor offered to Citoyenne Duplay would have saved 
 Descoings. 
 
 This little incident shows that in a revolution it is as dan- 
 gerous to trust for safety to an honest man as to a scoundrel ; 
 one can rely only on one's self. 
 
 Though Descoings died, he had the honor, at any rate, of 
 going to the scaffold with Andre de Chenier. There, no doubt,
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 7 
 
 grocery and poetry embraced for the first time in the flesh ; for 
 they have alway had, and will always have, their private rela- 
 tions. Descoings' execution made a far greater sensation than 
 Andre de Chenier's. Thirty years elapsed before it was recog- 
 nized that France had lost more by Chenier's death than by 
 that of Descoings. 
 
 Robespierre's sentence had this good result — until 1830 
 grocers were still afraid of meddling in politics. 
 
 Descoings' store was not more than a hundred yards from 
 Robespierre's lodgings. The grocer's successor failed in busi- 
 ness ; Cesar Birotteau, the famous perfumer, established him- 
 self in the house. But, as if the scaffold had infected the 
 place with disaster, the inventor of the " Compound Sultana 
 Paste " and " Eau Carminative " was also ruined. The solu- 
 tion of this problem is a matter for occult science. 
 
 In the course of the few visits paid by the head clerk to the 
 luckless Descoings' wife, he was struck by the calm, cold, art- 
 less beauty of Agathe Rouget. When he called to console 
 the widow, who was so far inconsolable as to retire from the 
 business after her second bereavement, he ended by marrying 
 the lovely girl in the course of a "decade," as soon as her 
 father could arrive, and he did not keep them waiting. The 
 doctor, delighted at seeing things turn out even better than 
 he had hoped, since his wife was the sole heiress of the Des- 
 coings, flew to Paris, not so much to be present at Agathe's 
 marriage as to see that the settlements were drawn to his 
 mind. Citizen Bridau, quite disinterested and desperately 
 in love, left this matter entirely to the perfidious doctor, who 
 took full advantage of his son-in-law's infatuation, as will be 
 seen in the course of this history. 
 
 Madame Rouget, or, more accurately, the doctor, inherited 
 all the estate, real and personal, of old Monsieur and Madame 
 Descoings, who died within two years of each other. Finally, 
 Rouget got the better of his wife, for she died early in 1799. 
 And he had vineyards, and he bought farmland, and he ac-
 
 8 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 quired iron-works, and he sold wool ! His beloved son could 
 never do anything ; he intended that the boy should be a 
 landed proprietor, and allowed him to grow up in wealth and 
 folly, confident that he would know as much as the most 
 learned of them all in so far as that he would live and die like 
 other folks. 
 
 From the year 1799, the calculating heads of Issoudun said 
 that old Rouget had thirty thousand francs a year. After his 
 wife's death the doctor still led a dissolute life, but with more 
 method, so to speak, and in the privacy of home-life. 
 
 The doctor, a man of strong will, died in 1S05. God 
 knows what the good people of Issoudun had then to tell of 
 the man's doings, and what stories were current of his horrible 
 private life. Jean-Jacques Rouget, whom his father had of 
 late kept tightly in hand, having discerned him to be a fool, 
 remained unmarried for sufficient reasons, of which the ex- 
 planation will form an important part of this story. His 
 celibacy was in part the doctor's fault, as will be fully under- 
 stood later. 
 
 It is now necessary to consider the results of the vengeance 
 visited by the father on the daughter, whom he did not recog- 
 nize as his, though you may take it for certain that she was 
 his legitimate offspring. Nobody at Issoudon had observed 
 one of those singular coincidences which make heredity a sort 
 of maze in which science loses herself. Agathe was very like 
 Doctor Rouget's mother. Just as gout is commonly observed 
 to skip a generation, and to be transmitted from grandfather 
 to grandson, so, not unfrequently, a likeness does the same as 
 the gout. 
 
 Thus Agathe's eldest child, who was like his mother, in 
 character resembled his grandfather, Doctor Rouget. We 
 will leave the solution of this problem also to the twentieth 
 century, with that of the nomenclature of microscopic organ- 
 isms, and our grandchildren will perhaps write as much more
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 9 
 
 nonsense as our learned societies have already produced on 
 this obscure question. 
 
 Agathe Rouget was universally admired for one of those 
 faces which, like that of Mary, the mother of the Lord, are 
 for ever virginal, even after marriage. Her portrait, still 
 hanging in Bridau's studio, shows a perfectly oval face, spot- 
 lessly fair, without even a freckle, notwithstanding her golden 
 hair. More than one artist, seeing the pure brow, the deli- 
 cate nose, the shapely ear, the long lashes to eyes of the 
 deepest blue, and infinitely mild — a face, in short, that is the 
 embodiment of placidity — asks the great painter to this day, 
 " Is that copied from one of Raphael's heads ? " 
 
 No man ever made a better choice than did the Republican 
 official when he married this girl. Agathe was the ideal 
 housewife, trained by a country life, and never parted from 
 her mother. She was pious without bigotry, and had no 
 learning but such as the church allows to women. And she 
 was a perfect wife in the vulgar sense of the word ; indeed, 
 her ignorance of life involved her in more than one misfor- 
 tune. The epitaph on the Roman matron, " She wrought 
 needlework, and kept the house," is an excellent account of 
 her pure, simple, and quiet life. 
 
 At the time of the Consulate, Bridau attached himself 
 fanatically to Napoleon, who made him head of a department 
 of state in 1804, a year before Rouget's death. Rich with a 
 salary of twelve thousand francs and very handsome presents, 
 Bridau cared not at all for the disgraceful proceedings by 
 which the estate was wound up at Issoudun, and Agathe got 
 nothing. Six months before his death old Rouget had sold 
 part of his estate to his son, to whom he secured the re- 
 mainder, in part by deed of gift, and in part as his direct 
 heir. An advance on her prospective inheritance of a hun- 
 dred thousand francs secured under her marriage settlement 
 represented Agathe's share of her father's and mother's for- 
 tune.
 
 20 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 li,,dau idolized the Emperor. He devoted himself with 
 the zeal of a fanatic to carrying out the vast conceptions of 
 this modern demi-god, who, finding everything in France in 
 ruins, set to work to reconstruct everything. His subordinate 
 never said, "Stay, enough." Schemes, drafts, reports, 
 precis, he undertook the heaviest burdens, so happy was he to 
 assist the Emperor. He loved him as a man, he adored him 
 as a sovereign, and would never endure the slightest criticism 
 of his deeds or his schemes. 
 
 From 1804 to 1808 the official resided in a large and hand- 
 some apartment on the Quai Voltaire, close to his office and 
 the Tuileries. A cook and a manservant composed the estab- 
 lishment in the days of Madame Bridau's splendor. Agathe, 
 always up the first, went to market, followed by her cook ; 
 while the man did the rooms she superintended the breakfast. 
 Bridau never went to the office before eleven o'clock. As 
 long as they both lived his wife found every day the same 
 pleasure in preparing for him a perfect breakfast, the only 
 meal he ate with enjoyment. All the year round, whatever 
 the weather might be, Agathe watched her husband from the 
 window on his way to the office, and never drew her head in 
 till he disappeared round the corner of the Rue du Bac. She 
 cleared the table herself, and looked round the rooms; then 
 she dressed and played with the children, or took them for a 
 walk, or received visitors till her husband returned. When 
 the head clerk brought home pressing work she would sit by 
 his table in his study, as mute as a statue, and knitting as she 
 watched him at work, sitting up as long as he did, and going 
 to bed a few minutes before he went. 
 
 Sometimes they went to the play, sitting in the official box. 
 On such occasions the pair dined at a restaurant ; and the 
 scene it presented always afforded Madame Bridau the keen 
 delight it gives to persons unfamiliar with Paris. Compelled, 
 not unfrequentlyj to accept invitations to the huge formal 
 dinners given to her husband as head of a department and
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 11 
 
 chief clerk of a section of the ministry of the interior — din- 
 ners which Bridau duly returned — Agathe then followed the 
 expensive fashions of the day ; but on coming in she gladly 
 dropped this ceremonial splendor, and relapsed at home into 
 provincial simplicity. Once a week, on Thursdays, Bridau 
 entertained his friends, and on Shrove-Tuesday he always 
 gave a grand ball. 
 
 This brief record is the whole history of a married life 
 which saw but three events — the birth of two children, one 
 three years younger than the other, and Bridau's death, which 
 took place in 1808; he was simply killed by night-work, just 
 as the Emperor was about to promote him in his office, and 
 to make him a count and privy councilor. At this time 
 Napoleon was devoting his attention to home administration ; 
 he overloaded Bridau with work, and finally undermined this 
 valiant official's health. Napoleon, of whom Bridau had 
 never asked the least thing, had inquired into his style of 
 living and his fortune. On hearing that this devoted servant 
 had nothing but his salary, he understood that here was one 
 of those incorruptible creatures who gave dignity and moral 
 tone to his rule, and he intended to surprise Bridau by some 
 magnificent recompense. It was his anxiety to finish an im- 
 mense piece of work before Napoleon should start for Spain 
 that killed this worthy man, by bringing on an attack of acute 
 fever. 
 
 On the Emperor's return, while in Paris for a few days 
 preparing for the campaign of 1809, on hearing of Bridau's 
 death, he exclaimed, "There are some men who can never 
 be replaced ! " Struck by a devotion that could never have 
 expected such dazzling rewards as he reserved for his soldiers, 
 Napoleon determined to create an order, with handsome pen- 
 sions attached, for his civil servants, as he had founded that 
 of the Legion of Honor for the military. The impression 
 made on him by Bridau's death suggested the formation of 
 the Order of the Reunion ; but he never had time to complete
 
 12 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 the organization of this aristocratic class, which is now so 
 utterly forgotten that, on meeting with the name of this 
 ephemeral order, most readers will wonder what was its badge: 
 it was worn with a blue ribbon. The Emperor styled it the 
 Order of the Reunion, with the intention of combining the 
 Order of the Golden Fleece of Spain with that of the Golden 
 Fleece of Austria. But Providence, as a Prussian diplomat 
 said, was able to hinder such profanation. 
 
 The Emperor inquired into Madame Bridau's circumstances. 
 The two boys had each a full scholarship at the Lycee Impe- 
 rial, and the Emperor charged all the cost of their education 
 to his privy purse. He then entered Madame Bridau's name 
 on the pension list for four thousand francs a year, intending, 
 no doubt, also to provide ultimately for her two sons, Philippe 
 and Joseph. 
 
 After her marriage till her husband's death, Madame Bridau 
 had no correspondence whatever with Issoudun. Immediately 
 before the birth of her second boy she heard of her mother's 
 death. When her father died — she knew that he had loved 
 her but little — the Emperor's coronation was imminent, and 
 the ceremony gave her husband so much to do that she would 
 not leave him. Jean-Jacques Rouget, her brother, had never 
 written her a word since she had quitted Issoudun. Though 
 grieved by this tacit repudiation by her family, Agathe at last 
 thought but seldom of those who never thought of her at all. 
 She received a letter once a year from her godmother, 
 Madame Hochon, and answered it in commonplace phrases, 
 never heeding the warnings which the worthy and pious 
 woman gave her in veiled hints. 
 
 Some time before Doctor Rouget's death, Madame Hochon 
 had written to her goddaughter that she would get nothing 
 from her father, unless she armed Monsieur Hochon with a 
 power of attorney. Agathe hated the idea of worrying her 
 brother. Whether Bridau supposed that this appropriation 
 was in conformity with the common law of the province of
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 13 
 
 Berry, or whether the clean-handed and upright husband 
 shared his wife's magnanimity and indifference to pecuniary 
 interests, he would not listen to Roguin, his attorney, who 
 advised him to take advantage of his high position to dispute 
 the will by which the father had succeeded in robbing his 
 daughter of her legal share. Husband and wife thus sanc- 
 tioned what was done at Issoudun. However, Roguin had 
 led the official to reflect on the damage to his wife's fortune. 
 The worthy man perceived that in the event of his death 
 Agathe would have nothing to depend on. He then looked 
 into his affairs, and found that between 1793 and 1805 he and 
 his wife had been obliged to draw out about thirty thousand 
 francs of the fifty thousand which old Rouget had given to 
 his daughter. He now invested the remaining twenty thou- 
 sand in the funds, which then stood at forty, so Agathe had 
 about two thousand francs a year in state securities. Thus, as 
 a widow, Madame Bridau could live very decently on six 
 thousand francs a year. Still very provincial, she was about 
 to dismiss the manservant, keep only the cook, and move to 
 another set of rooms ; but Madame Descoings, her intimate 
 friend, who persisted in calling herself her aunt, gave up her 
 apartment and came to live with Agathe, taking the departed 
 Bridau's study for her bedroom. The two widows joined 
 their incomes, and found themselves possessed of twelve thou- 
 sand francs a year. 
 
 Such an arrangement seemed simple and natural. But 
 nothing in life demands greater circumspection than arrange- 
 ments which seem natural ; we are always on our guard 
 against what appears extraordinary ; and so we see that men 
 of great experience — lawyers, judges, physicians, and priests — 
 attach immense importance to such simple matters ; and they 
 are thought captious. The serpent under flowers is one of 
 the finest emblems bequeathed to us by the ancients as a 
 warning for our conduct. How often does a simpleton ex- 
 claim, as an excuse in his own eyes and those of others, " It
 
 14 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 was such a simple matter, that any one would have been 
 caught ! " 
 
 In 1809 Madame Descoings, who never told her age, was 
 sixty-five years old. Spoken of in her day as " La Belle 
 Epiciere," she was one of those rare women whom time 
 spares, and owed to an excellent constitution the privilege of 
 preserving her beauty, though, of course, it could no longer 
 bear serious examination. Of middle height, plump and 
 fresh-colored, she had fine shoulders, and a warmly fair skin. 
 Her light hair, tending to chestnut, showed no change of hue in 
 spite of Descoings' disastrous end. She was extremely dainty, 
 and liked cooking rich little dishes for her own eating ; but 
 though she seemed devoted to the kitchen, she was also very 
 fond of the theatre, and, moreover, she indulged a vice 
 which she wrapped in the deepest mystery — she put into the 
 lottery. Is not the lottery, perhaps, the gulf which mythology 
 has figured under the bottomless vat of the Danaids ? 
 
 This woman — we may speak so of one who gambles in the 
 lottery — spent rather too much in dress, no doubt, like all 
 women who are so lucky as to remain youthful in advancing 
 years ; but with the exception of these little failings, she was 
 the easiest creature to live with. Ready to agree with every- 
 body, never contradictory, she was attractive by her gentle 
 and contagious cheerfulness. She had especially one Parisian 
 characteristic which bewitches retired clerks and traders — she 
 understood a joke. If she did not marry a third husband, 
 that, no doubt, was the fault of the times. During the wars 
 of the Empire, marrying men found handsome and wealthy 
 girls too readily to trouble their heads about a woman of sixty. 
 
 Madame Descoings tried to cheer Madame Bridau ; she 
 made her go often to the play, or out driving ; she provided 
 her with capital little dinners ; she even tried to marry her 
 to her son Bixiou. Alas ! she was forced to confess to her 
 the terrible secret that had been so jealously kept, by herself, 
 by the departed Descoings, and by her lawyer. The youth-
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 16 
 
 ful, dressy Madame Descoings, who owned to no more than 
 thirty-six, had a son of thirty-five named Bixiou, a widower, 
 and major of the 21st foot, who was afterwards killed at 
 Dresden, as a colonel, leaving an only child, a boy. His 
 mother, who never saw her grandson but in secret, spoke of 
 the colonel as a son of her husband's by his first wife. Her 
 confession was an act of expediency ; the colonel's boy, who 
 was at school at the Lycee Imperial with the two Bridaus, 
 held a half-scholarship. This youth, very sharp and knowing 
 even in his school-days, made a great reputation later as an 
 artist and a wit. 
 
 Agathe cared for nothing on earth but her children, and 
 would live only for them ; she refused to marry again, alike 
 from good sense and from faithful attachment. But a woman 
 finds it easier to be a good wife than to be a good mother. 
 A wido,v has two duties of a contradictory nature — she is a 
 mother, and she ought to exert a father's power. Few women 
 are strong enough to understand and play this double part. 
 And so poor Agathe, with all her virtues, was the innocent 
 cause of many misfortunes. As a result of her lack of insight, 
 and the trustfulness habitual to lofty natures, Agathe was the 
 victim of Madame Descoings, who dragged her into over- 
 whelming disaster. This woman had a fancy for sets of three 
 numbers, and the lottery grants no credit to ticket-holders. 
 As housekeeper, she could spend the money allotted to the 
 marketing in such ventures, and gradually increased the debt 
 in the hope of enriching her grandson, her dear Agathe, and 
 the young Bridaus. When it amounted to ten thousand francs 
 she staked higher sums, always hoping that the favorite com- 
 bination, which had not yet come out in ten years, would 
 cover the loss. Then the debt swelled rapidly. It reached 
 the sum of twenty thousand francs ; Madame Descoings lost 
 her head, and her numbers did not come out. 
 
 Then she wished to pledge her fortune in order to repay 
 her niece, but her lawyer Roguin showed her that this honest
 
 16 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 scheme was impossible. The elder Rouget, at the death of 
 his brother-in-law Descoings, had taken over his liabilities 
 and assets, indemnifying the widow by a life annuity, charged 
 on Jean-Jacques Rouget's estate. No usurer would consent 
 to lend twenty thousand francs to a woman of sixty-five on a 
 life interest worth about four thousand, at a time when ten 
 per cent, could be gotten anywhere. One morning Madame 
 Descoings threw herself at her niece's feet, and with many 
 sobs confessed the state of affairs ; Madame Bridau did not 
 reproach her. She sent away the manservant and the cook ; 
 sold all but the most indispensable furniture ; sold out three- 
 quarters of her state securities, paid everything, and gave up 
 her apartment. 
 
 One of the most hideous corners of Paris is, beyond doubt, 
 the Rue Mazarine, between the crossing of the Rue Guene- 
 gaud, to where it opens in the Rue de la Seine behind the 
 Palais de 1'Institut. The tall, gray walls of the college and 
 library presented to the city of Paris by Cardinal Mazarin 
 cast chilling shadows over this strip of street ; the sun rarely 
 shines on it, the northerly blast sweeps through it. The poor 
 ruined widow went to lodge on the third floor of a house in 
 this damp, dark, cold spot. 
 
 Facing the house were the buildings of the institute, where, 
 at that time, were the dens of the wild beasts known to the 
 townsfolk as artists, and to artists as rapins — daubers, art 
 students. A man might go in a rapin, and might come out 
 with the prize scholarship at Rome. This transformation was 
 not affected without much amazing uproar at the time of year 
 when the competitors were shut up in these cages. To take 
 the prize, the aspiring sculptor had to execute, within a given 
 time, a clay model of a statue ; the painter, one of the pic- 
 tures you may behold at the Ecole des Beaux-arts ; the musi- 
 cian had to compose a cantata ; the architect, a design for a 
 public building. At the time when these lines are penned,
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 17 
 
 the menagerie has been transferred from those cold and gloomy 
 buildings to the elegant Palace of the Fine Arts, a few yards 
 from there. 
 
 Madame Bridau's windows commanded a view of these 
 barred cells, a singularly dreary lookout. To the north the 
 dome of the Institute closes in the prospect ; looking up the 
 street, the' only delectation for the eye is the line of hackney 
 cabs on the stand at the top of the Rue Mazarine. Indeed, 
 the widow at last placed three boxes of earth outside her 
 windows, in which she cultivated one of those aerial gardens, 
 so obnoxious to the regulations of the police, which somewhat 
 purify the light and air. 
 
 The house, backing against one in the Rue de Seine, is 
 necessarily shallow ; the staircase turns in a spiral. The third 
 floor is the top ; three windows and three rooms — a dining- 
 room, and a little sitting-room, and a bedroom ; at the back, 
 on the other side of the landing, a small kitchen ; under the 
 roof two boys' rooms, and a vast unused garret. Madame 
 Bridau chose this apartment for three reasons : the low rent, 
 only four hundred francs, so she agreed for a nine years' 
 lease; the nearness of her boys' school, for it was not far 
 from the Lycee Imperial ; and, finally, it was in the quarter 
 where she was accustomed to live. The interior of the rooms 
 was in harmony with the building. The dining-room, hung 
 with cheap flowered paper in yellow and green, with an un- 
 polished tiled floor, had the barest necessary furniture — a 
 table, two little sideboards, and six chairs brought from her 
 old home. The drawing-room was graced by an Aubusson 
 carpet, given to Bridau when his office was last refurnished. 
 The widow placed in it that common mahogany furniture, 
 finished with Egyptian heads, manufactured by the gross in 
 1806 by Jacob Desmalter, and covered with silk damask with 
 white conventional roses. 
 
 Above the sofa, a portrait of Bridau in pastel, the work of 
 a friend, attracted the eye at once. Though the art was not 
 2
 
 13 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 above criticism, the brow plainly showed the firmness of the 
 unknown great citizen. The calm look of his eyes, at once 
 proud and mild, was happily rendered ; the sagacity to which 
 the prudent lips bore witness, and the honest smile, the whole 
 tone of the man of whom the Emperor spoke as Justum ct 
 tenace?n, had been caught, if not with talent, at any rate with 
 truth. As you looked at this portrait, you could see that this 
 man had always done his duty. His countenance expressed 
 the incorruptibility which must be granted to many of the 
 men employed during the Republic. 
 
 Opposite, over a card-table, was the brilliantly colored 
 picture of the Emperor by Vernet, in which Napoleon is seen 
 swiftly riding past, and followed by his escort. Agathe 
 allowed herself the luxury of two large bird-cages — one full 
 of canaries, and one of exotic birds ; she had taken up this 
 childlike fancy since her loss — irreparable to her and to many 
 others. 
 
 As to Agathe's bedroom, by the end of three months it had 
 become, what it remained till the luckless day when she was 
 obliged to leave it — a chaos which no description could re- 
 duce to order. Cats were at home in the armchairs ; the 
 birds, sometimes set at liberty, left their traces on all the 
 furniture. The poor, kind soul strewed millet and groundsel 
 for them in all parts of the room ; the cats found titbits in 
 broken saucers. Clothes lay about. It was an atmosphere 
 of provincialism and fidelity. Everything that had belonged 
 to Bridau was carefully treasured there ; his writing apparatus 
 was kept with the care which the widow of a knight would 
 have devoted to his armor. This woman's touching worship 
 may be understood from a single fact — she had wrapped a 
 pen in a sealed packet and written on it, " The last pen used 
 by my dear husband." The cup from which he had drunk 
 for the last time was under glass on the chimney-shelf. At a 
 later date caps and " fronts" crowned the glass shades that 
 covered these treasured relics.
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 19 
 
 After Bridau's death, his young widow of five-and-thirty 
 never betrayed a trace of vanity or womanly pride. Parted 
 from the only man she had really known, esteemed, and loved, 
 who had never caused her the smallest pang, she no longer 
 felt herself a woman ; she cared for nothing ; she ceased to 
 dress. Nothing could be more unaffected or more complete 
 than this surrender of married happiness and personal care. 
 Some souls are endowed by love with the power of merging 
 their individuality in another ; and when that other is gone, 
 life is no longer possible. Agathe, who could henceforth live 
 only for her children, felt the deepest grief at seeing how 
 many privations they must suffer in consequence of her ruin. 
 From the day when she moved to the Rue Mazarine there was 
 a tinge of melancholy in her expression that was very touching. 
 She did indeed count a little on the Emperor, but he could 
 do no more than he was already doing ; he allowed each boy, 
 besides his scholarship, six hundred francs a year out of his 
 privy purse. 
 
 As to the dashing Madame Descoings, she had an apart- 
 ment similar to her niece's on the second floor. She had as- 
 signed to Madame Bridau a sum of a thousand crowns to be 
 taken as a first charge on her annuity ; Roguin had taken care 
 of this for Madame Bridau, but it would be seven years before 
 this slow repayment could undo the mischief. Roguin, in- 
 structed to replace the fifteen hundred francs in dividends, 
 banked the sums he retained on this account. Madame Des- 
 coings, reduced to twelve hundred francs a year, lived poorly 
 enough with her niece. The two honest, helpless creatures 
 had a woman in for the morning's work only. The aunt, 
 who liked cooking, managed the dinner. In the evening, a 
 few friends, clerks in the office for whom Bridau had found 
 places, would come to play a game with the two widows. 
 
 Madame Descoings still clung to her three numbers, which 
 obstinately refused, as she said, ever to come out. She still 
 hoped, by one turn of luck, to repay all that she had surrep-
 
 20 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 titiously borrowed from her niece. She loved the two little 
 Bridaus better than her grandson Bixiou, so strongly did she 
 feel that she had wronged them, and so greatly did she admire 
 the sweetness of her niece, who, at the very worst, never 
 spoke the lightest word of blame. And so it may be sup- 
 posed that she spoiled Joseph and Philippe. Like all persons 
 who have a vice to be forgiven, this old gambler in the im- 
 perial lottery wouid treat them to little dinners, cramming 
 them with dainties. A little later Joseph and Philippe could, 
 with the greatest ease, extract from her little gifts of money ; 
 the younger to buy stumps, chalk, paper, and prints ; the 
 elder for apple-puffs, marbles, balls of string, and knives. 
 Ker passion had brought her down to being content with fifty 
 francs a month for all expenses, that she might gamble with 
 the remainder. 
 
 Madame Bridau on her part, out of motherly affection, did 
 not allow her expenses to exceed that sum. To punish her- 
 self for her foolish confidence, she now heroically cut off all 
 her little enjoyments. It often happens to a timid soul and 
 narrow intellect that a single experience of crushed feelings 
 and aroused suspicions leads to such an extreme development 
 of a failing that it acquires the consistency of a virtue. The 
 Emperor might forget, she told herself; he might be killed in 
 battle — her pension would die with him. She shuddered as 
 she saw such probabilities of her children being left absolutely 
 penniless. Incompetent as she was to understand Roguin's 
 calculations, when he tried to prove to her that in seven years 
 a charge of three thousand francs a year on Madame Des- 
 coings' annuity would replace the securities she had sold, she 
 put no trust in the lawyer, or her aunt, or the state ; she relied 
 only on herself and her own thrift. By saving a thousand 
 crowns a year out of her pension, in ten years she would have 
 thirty thousand francs, which would at any rate secure her 
 children fifteen hundred francs a year. At six-and-thirty she 
 had a right to hope that she might live twenty years, and by
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 21 
 
 carrying out this system she might leave each of them enough 
 for the bare necessities of life. 
 
 Thus the two widows had sunk from unreal opulence to 
 voluntary penury — one under the influence of a vice, the 
 other under the promptings of the purest virtue. None of all 
 these trivial things are foreign to the deep lesson to be de- 
 rived from this story, founded on the sordid interests of com- 
 mon life, but with a scope all the wider perhaps in con- 
 sequence. 
 
 The view over the schools, the scampering art students in 
 the street, the need for looking at the sky, if only to turn 
 from the hideous outlook on every side of that mouldy street; 
 the countenance of the portrait, full of soul and dignity in 
 spite of the amateurish handling ; the association of the rich 
 coloring, harmonized by age, of this quiet and peaceful home, 
 the greenery of its hanging gardens, the poverty of the house- 
 hold, the mother's preference for her elder son, and her dis- 
 like to the younger boy's taste — in short, the sum-total of the 
 incidents and circumstances which form the prologue to the 
 story, constituted perhaps the active causes to which we owe 
 Joseph Bridau, one of the great painters of the modern 
 French school. 
 
 Philippe, the elder of Bridau's two children, was strik- 
 ingly like his mother. Though fair-haired and blue-eyed, he 
 had a daring look which was often mistaken for high spirit 
 and courage. Old Claparon, who had entered the office at 
 the same time with Bridau, and was one of the faithful 
 friends who came in the evening to play a game with the two 
 widows, would say of Philippe two or three times in a month, 
 as he patted his cheek, " Here is a brave little man, who can 
 always say bo to a goose!" The child, thus encouraged, 
 assumed a sort of pluck out of bravado. His temper having 
 taken this bent, he became skilled in all physical exercises. 
 By dint of fighting at school, he acquired the hardihood and
 
 22 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 scorn of pain which give rise 10 military courage, but, of 
 course, he also acquired the greatest aversion for study ; for a 
 public school can never solve the difficult problem of develop- 
 ing equally and simultaneously the powers of the body and of 
 the mind. Agathe inferred from his purely superficial re- 
 semblance to her that they must agree in mind, and firmly 
 believed that she should some day find in him her own re» 
 fined feeling, ennobled by a man's force of nature. 
 
 At the time when Madame Bridau moved to the gloomy 
 apartment in the Rue Mazarine, Philippe was fifteen, and the 
 engaging ways of a youth at that age confirmed his mother's 
 belief. Joseph, who was three years younger, was an ugly 
 likeness of his father. In the first place, his bushy black hair 
 was always ill-kempt whatever was done to it ; while hir 
 brother, though he was never quiet, was always trim ; them 
 by some, inscrutable fatality — but a too persistent fatality 
 grows into a habit — Joseph could never keep his clothee 
 clean ; dressed in a new suit, he made old clothes of them aL 
 once. The elder, out of personal vanity, took care of hit 
 things. Unconsciously, the mother accustomed herself tc 
 scold Joseph and hold up the example of his brother. Sa 
 Agathe did not always show the same face to her two boys ; 
 and when she went to fetch them from school, she would say 
 of Joseph, " I wonder what state his things will be in ! " All 
 these trifles drove her heart into the gulf of favoritism. 
 
 No one of all the very commonplace people who formed 
 the two widows' visiting circle — neither old du Bruel, nor old 
 Claparon, nor Desroches senior, nor even the Abbe Loraux, 
 Agathe's director — ever noticed Joseph's powers of observa- 
 tion. Possessed by this taste, the future colorist paid no heed 
 to anything that concerned him ; and so long as he was a child, 
 this instinct looked so like stupidity that his father had been 
 somewhat uneasy about him. The extraordinary size of his 
 skull and the breadth of his forehead had at first led them 
 to fear that the child had water on the brain. His face, still
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 23 
 
 so rugged, and odd enough to be thought ugly by those who 
 cannot see the intellectual purpose of a countenance, was, 
 during his boyhood, rather pinched. The features, which 
 developed later, seemed crushed together, and the intensity 
 with which the -child studied everything puckered them still 
 more. Thus Philippe soothed all his mother's vanities, while 
 Joseph never won her a compliment. While Joseph was silent 
 and dreamy, Philippe could bring out those clever speeches 
 and repartees which tempt parents to believe that their chil- 
 dren will be remarkable men. The mother looked for 
 wonders from Philippe, she founded no hopes on Joseph. 
 
 Joseph's predisposition to art v/as brought to light by a 
 most commonplace incident. In 1S12, during the Easter 
 holidays, as he was returning from a walk in the Tuileries 
 gardens with his brother and Madame Descoings, he saw a 
 student scrawl a caricature of some professor on a wall, and 
 admiration of this chalk sketch, full of sparkling fun, riveted 
 him to the spot. On the following day the boy placed him- 
 self at a window to watch the students going in by the door 
 in the Rue Mazarine ; he stole downstairs, and slipped into 
 the long courtyard of the Institute, where he saw a number 
 of statues and busts, marble rough-hewn, terra-cotta figures, 
 studies in plaster ; he gazed at them in a fever of excitement, 
 for his instinct was roused, his vocation seethed within him. 
 He went into a large low room, the door standing open, and 
 there saw a dozen or so of lads drawing a statue ; he was at 
 once the butt of their tricks. 
 
 " Pretty Dick ! pretty Dick ! " said the first to spy him, 
 flinging some bread-crumbs at him. 
 
 "Whose brat is that? " 
 
 " Heavens, how ugly he is ! " 
 
 In short, for a quarter of an hour Joseph stood the horse- 
 play of the studio — that of the great sculptor Chaudet ; but 
 after making game of him, the pupils were struck by his 
 tenacity and his expression, and asked him what he wanted.
 
 2i A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 Joseph replied that he very much wished to learn to draw ; 
 and thereupon everybody was by way of encouraging him. 
 The boy, taken in by this friendly tone, explained that he was 
 Madame Bridau's son. 
 
 "Oh! then, indeed! If you are Madame Bridau's son," 
 they sang out from every corner of the studio, " you may be- 
 come a great man. Hurrah for Madame Bridau's son ! Is 
 your mother pretty ? To judge from your pumpkin head as a 
 specimen, she ought to be a sweet one to look at." 
 
 "So you want to be an artist," said the eldest student, 
 leaving his place, and coming to Joseph to play him some 
 trick. " But you must be plucky, you know, and put up with 
 dreadful things. Yes, there are trials, tests that are enough 
 to break your legs and arms. All these fellows that you see — 
 well, every one of them has passed the tests. Now, that one, 
 for instance, he went for seven days and nights without food. 
 Come, let's see if you are fit to become an artist? " 
 
 He took one of the boy's arms and placed it straight 
 up in the air, then he set the other at an angle as if about 
 to strike out. 
 
 " We call that the ordeal of the telegraph," said he. " If 
 you stand like that without letting your arms sink or chang- 
 ing your attitude for a quarter of an hour — well, you will 
 have shown that you have good pluck ! " 
 
 " Now, little chap, show your mettle," said the others. 
 
 "By Jove, you must go through something to become an 
 
 artist." 
 
 Joseph, in all the good faith of a boy of thirteen, remained 
 
 motionless for about five minutes, and all the pupils looked at 
 
 him very gravely. 
 
 " Oh ! your arm is sinking," said one. 
 
 " Come, steady ! " said another. 
 
 " By Jove, the Emperor Napoleon stood for at least a 
 month, just as you see him there," added a third, pointing to 
 Chaudet's fine statue.
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 25 
 
 The Emperor was standing holding the imperial sceptre ; 
 and this work was thrown down in 1S14 from the column it 
 finished so nobly. 
 
 In about ten minutes the perspiration was standing on 
 Joseph's brow. At this moment a little man came in, bald, 
 pale, and fragile ; respectful silence reigned in the studio. 
 
 " Now then, you scamps, what are you about?" he asked, 
 looking at the studio victim. 
 
 "The little chap is sitting to us," said the tall student who 
 had placed Joseph in position. 
 
 " Are you not ashamed of torturing a poor child so? " said 
 Chaudet, putting down Joseph's arms. " How long have 
 you been standing there?" he asked, with a friendly pat on 
 the boy's cheek. 
 
 "About a quarter of an hour." 
 " And what brings you here ? " 
 "I want to be an artist." 
 
 "And whence have you come; to whom, then, do you 
 belong?" 
 
 " From mamma's." 
 
 " Oh, ho ! from mamma's ! " cried the pupils. 
 "Silence among the easels !" cried Chaudet. " Who is 
 your mother? " 
 
 "She is Madame Bridau. My papa, who is dead, was a 
 friend of the Emperor's. And if you will only teach me to 
 draw, the Emperor will pay whatever you ask." 
 
 " His father was head of a department in the ministry of 
 the interior," cried Chaudet, struck by a reminiscence. 
 " And you want already to be an artist? " 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Come here as often as you like; you may play here. 
 Give him an easel, paper, and chalk, and leave him to him- 
 self. Remember, you pickles, that his father did me a 
 service," said the sculptor. " Here, you, Well-rope, go and 
 buy something nice — some cakes and sugar-plums," he added,
 
 26 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 giving some silver to the lad who had bullied Joseph. " We 
 shall soon see if you are an artist by the way you munch 
 cabbage," he went on, stroking Joseph's chin. 
 
 Then he went the round of his pupils. Joseph followed 
 him, listening and trying to understand. The treat was 
 brought ; all the lads, the sculptor himself, and the child had 
 their share. Then Joseph was made much of, as he had be- 
 fore been made game of. This scene, in which the rough fun 
 and good heart of the artist tribe were revealed to him, as he 
 understood by instinct, made a prodigious impression on the 
 boy. This glimpse of Chaudet the sculptor, snatched away 
 by a too early death while the Emperor's patronage promised 
 him glory, was like a vision to Joseph. 
 
 The child said nothing to his mother of this escapade, but 
 every Sunday and Thursday he spent three hours in Chaudet's 
 studio. Madame Descoings, always ready to humor the 
 cherubs' fancies, henceforth gave Joseph charcoal, red chalk, 
 lithographs, and drawing-paper. At the Lycee Imperial the 
 budding artist sketched the masters, took portraits of his 
 school-fellows, scrawled on the dormitory walls, and was 
 astonishingly diligent in the drawing-class. Lemire, his 
 master there, astounded not merely by his talent, but by the 
 progress he made, came to speak to Madame Bridau of her 
 son's evident vocation. Agathe, a true provincial, and as 
 ignorant of art as she was accomplished in housekeeping, was 
 filled with alarms. When Lemire was gone, she burst into 
 tears. 
 
 " Oh ! " she cried, as Madame Descoings came in, " I am 
 undone ! Joseph, whom I meant to make a clerk, who has 
 his way ready for him in the ministry of the interior, and 
 guarded by the shade of his father, would have been at the 
 head of an office by the time he was five-and-twenty. Well, 
 he is bent on being a painter — a beggar's trade. I always 
 knew that boy would bring me nothing but trouble ! ' 
 
 Madame Descoings had to confess that for some months
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 27 
 
 ■ 
 
 past she had been encouraging Joseph in his passion and 
 screening his stolen Sunday and Thursday visits to the school 
 of art. At the Salon, whither she had taken him, the little 
 fellow's interest in the pictures was something miraculous. 
 
 " And if he understands painting at the age of thirteen, my 
 dear, your Joseph will be a man of genius." 
 
 " I daresay ; and see what genius brought his father to! 
 To die, worked to death, at forty." 
 
 Late in the autumn, just as Joseph was reaching the age of 
 fourteen, Agathe, in spite of Madame Descoings' entreaties, 
 went to see Chaudet, and insisted that her son should not 
 be led into mischief. She found Chaudet in his blue overall, 
 modeling his latest statue. He was barely civil in his recep- 
 tion of the widow of the man who had once done him a 
 service in very critical circumstances, but his health was 
 already undermined ; he was working with the fevered energy 
 which enables a man to do in a few moments things which it 
 it is difficult to achieve in as many months ; he had just hit 
 on a thing he had long been striving for, and handled his 
 clay and modeling tool with hasty jerks which, to Agathe, in 
 her ignorance, seemed to be those of a maniac. In any other 
 frame of mind Chaudet would have lausrhed outright ; but as 
 he heard this mother blaspheming art, bewailing the fate 
 forced upon her son, and requesting that he might never more 
 be admitted to the studio, he broke out in sacred fury. 
 
 "I am under obligations to your lamented husband ; I 
 hoped to make him some return by helping your son, by 
 watching over your little Joseph's first step in the noblest of 
 all careers ! " he exclaimed. " Yes, madame, I may tell you, 
 if you do not know it, that a great artist is a king, more than 
 a king ; for, in the first place, he is happier, and he is inde- 
 pendent ; he lives as he pleases; and, besides, he rules over 
 the world of imagination. Your son has a splendid future 
 before him ! Such talents as his are rare ; they are not re- 
 vealed so young in any artists but a Giotto, a Raphael, a
 
 28 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 Titian, a Rubens, a Murillo — for he will be a painter, I think, 
 rather than a sculptor. Light of heaven ! If I had such a boy, 
 I should be as happy as the Emperor is in being the father of 
 the King of Rome ! Well, madame, you are mistress of your 
 child's fate. Go, make an idiot of him, a man who will only 
 put one leg before the other, a wretched scrivener ; you will 
 be committing murder ! I only hope that, in spite of all your 
 efforts, he will always remain an artist ! A vocation is 
 stronger than all the obstacles opposed to its working ! A 
 vocation ! — the word means a call. Ah ! it is election by 
 God! 
 
 " But vou will make your child wretched ! " 
 
 He violently flung the handful of clay he had ceased to 
 need into a tub, and said to his model, "That will do for 
 to-day." 
 
 Agathe looked up, and saw a naked woman sitting on a 
 stool in a corner of the studio which had not yet come under 
 her eye. At the sight she fled in horror. 
 
 "You are not to let little Bridau come here any more," 
 said Chaudet to his pupils. "Madame his mother does not 
 approve." 
 
 " Hoo-oo ! " shouted the lads as Agathe closed the door. 
 
 "And Joseph has been going to that place!" said the 
 poor woman, in consternation of what she had seen and 
 heard. 
 
 As soon as the students of painting and sculpture heard that 
 Madame Bridau would not allow her son to become an artist, 
 all their delight was to get Joseph to their own rooms. In 
 spite of the promise extracted from him by his mother not to 
 go any more to the Institute, the boy often stole into a studio 
 that Regnauld used there, and was encouraged to daub canvas. 
 When the widow tried to complain, Chaudet's pupils told her 
 that Regnauld was not Chaudet, that she had not made them 
 the guardians of monsieur her son, and laughed at her in a 
 thousand ways. The rascally students composed and sang
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 29 
 
 a ballad on Madame Bridau in a hundred and thirty-seven 
 verses. 
 
 On the evening of that melancholy day, Agathe refused to 
 play cards, and sat in her armchair, a prey to such deep mel- 
 ancholy that the tears welled up in her beautiful eyes. 
 
 ' ' What is the matter, Madame Bridau ? ' ' asked old Claparon. 
 
 ''She believes that her son will have to beg his bread be- 
 cause he has the bump of painting," said Madame Descoings. 
 " But I have not the smallest misgiving as to my stepson's 
 boy, little Bixiou, though he too has a passion for drawing. 
 Men are made to fight their way." 
 
 " Madame is right," said Desroches, a hard, dry man, who 
 in spite of his abilities had never been able to rise in his office. 
 " I happily have but one son ; for with my salary of eighteen 
 hundred francs, and my wife, who makes barely twelve hun- 
 dred by her license to sell stamps, what would have become 
 of me ? I have articled my boy to an attorney ; he gets 
 twenty-five frances a month and his breakfast, and I give him 
 the same sum ; he dines and sleeps at home. That is all he 
 has ; he must needs go on, and he will make his way. I have 
 cut out more work for my youngster than if he were at col- 
 lege, and he will be an attorney some day ; when I treat him 
 to the play he is as happy as a king, he hugs me ! Oh ! I 
 keep him tight ! He has to account to me for all his money. 
 You are too easy with your children. If your boy wants to 
 try roughing it, let him alone ! He will turn out all right." 
 
 " For my part," said du Bruel, a retired head clerk who 
 had just taken his pension, " my boy is but sixteen, and his 
 mother worships him. But I would not listen to a vocation 
 that declared itself at such an early age. I think boys need 
 directing." 
 
 "You, monsieur, are rich; you are a man, and have but 
 one child," said Agathe. 
 
 "On my honor," Claparon went on, "our children are 
 our tyrants (in hearts). Mine drives me mad ; he has brought
 
 30 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 me to ruin, and at last I have given him up altogether {inde- 
 pendence). Well, he is all the better pleased, and so am I. 
 The rascal was partly the death of his poor mother. He be- 
 came a commercial traveler, and it was the very life for him ; 
 no sooner was he in the house than he wanted to be out of it ; 
 he never could rest, he never would learn. All I pray heaven 
 is that I may die without seeing him disgrace my name ! 
 Those who have no children miss many pleasures, but they 
 also escape many troubles." 
 
 " Just like a father ! " said Agathe, beginning to cry again. 
 
 " What I tell you, my dear Madame Bridau, is to prove to 
 you that you must allow your boy to become a painter ; other- 
 wise you will lose your time " 
 
 "If you were capable of keeping him in hand," said the 
 harsh Desroches, " I would tell you to oppose his wishes ; 
 but, seeing you so weak with them, I say — let him daub and 
 scribble." 
 
 "Lost ! " said Claparon. 
 
 " What ? Lost ! " cried the unhappy mother. 
 
 "Oh yes, my independence in hearts — that dry stick Des- 
 roches always makes me lose." 
 
 " Be comforted, Agathe," said Madame Descoings ; "Joseph 
 will be a great man." 
 
 At the end of this discussion, which was like every earthly 
 discussion, the widow's friends united in one opinion, which 
 by no means put an end to her perplexities. She was advised 
 to allow Joseph to follow his bent. 
 
 "And if he is not a man of genius," said du Bruel, who 
 was civil to Agathe, " you can always get him a place." 
 
 On the landing Madame Descoings, seeing out the three old 
 clerks, called them the "three Sages of Greece." 
 
 " She worries herself too much," said du Bruel. 
 
 " She may think herself only too lucky that her boy will do 
 anything! " said Claparon. 
 
 " If God preserves the Emperor," said Desroches, "Joseph
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 31 
 
 will be provided for elsewhere. So what has she to be anx- 
 ious about? " 
 
 "She is afraid of everything where her children are con- 
 cerned," replied Madame Descoings. 
 
 "Well, dear little woman," she went on, as she re-entered 
 the room, "you see they are all of one mind. What have you 
 to cry for now ? ' ' 
 
 " Oh ! if it were Philippe, I should have no fears. You do 
 not know what goes on in those studios. They actually have 
 naked women there ! " 
 
 "But they have a fire, I hope," said Madame Descoings. 
 
 A few days later news came of the disastrous rout at Mos^ 
 cow. Napoleon was returning to organize fresh armies and 
 call on France for further sacrifices. Now the poor mother 
 was tortured by very different alarms. Philippe, who did not 
 like college, was positively bent on serving the Emperor. A 
 review at the Tuileries, the last Napoleon ever held, of which 
 Philippe was a spectator, had turned his head. At that period 
 of military display the sight of the uniforms, the authority of 
 an epaulette, had an irresistible fascination for some young 
 men. Philippe believed himself to have the same taste for 
 military service that his brother had for the arts. 
 
 Unknown to his mother, he wrote to the Emperor a peti- 
 tion in the following words: 
 
 " Sire : — I am the son of your Bridau ; I am eighteen years 
 old, and measure nearly six feet ; I have stout legs, a good 
 constitution, and I wish to be one of your soldiers. I appeal 
 to your favor to be enrolled in the army, etc." 
 
 Within twenty-four hours the Emperor had sent Philippe to 
 the Imperial Military School of Saint-Cyr ; and six months 
 later, in November, 1S13, he called him out as sub-lieutenant 
 in a cavalry regiment. During part of the winter Philippe
 
 32 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 remained in depot ; but as soon as he had learned to ride he set 
 out full of ardor. In the course of the campaign in France, 
 he gained his lieutenancy in a skirmish of the advanced guard, 
 when his headlong valor saved his colonel. The Emperor 
 made him captain after the battle of La Fere-Champenoise, 
 and placed him on the staff. Stimulated by this promotion, 
 at Montereau Philippe won the cross. Then, having wit- 
 nessed Napoleon's farewell at Fontainebleau, and being driven 
 to fanaticism by the scene, Captain Philippe refused to serve 
 under the Bourbons. 
 
 When he went home to his mother in July, 1814, he found 
 her a ruined woman. In the course of the long vacation 
 Joseph's scholarship was canceled ; and Madame Bridau, 
 whose pension had been paid out of the Emperor's privy 
 purse, vainly applied for a clerkship for him in the offices of 
 the ministry of the interior. Joseph, more than ever devoted 
 to painting, was enchanted, and only besought his mother to 
 allow him to go to Monsieur Regnauld's studio, promising 
 her that he would make a living. He was, he said, high 
 enough in the second class at school, and could get on without 
 rhetoric. 
 
 Philippe, a captain, and wearing an order at nineteen, 
 after serving under Napoleon on two battlefields, immensely 
 flattered his mother's pride ; so, though he was rough, noisy, 
 and in reality devoid of all merit but the vulgar courage of a 
 slashing swordsman, to her he was the man of genius ; while 
 Joseph, who was small, sickly, and thin, with a rugged brow, 
 who loved peace and quiet, and dreamed of fame as an artist, 
 was doomed, as she declared, never to give her anything but 
 worry and anxiety. The winter of 181 4-15 was a good one 
 for Joseph, who, by the secret interest of Madame Descoings 
 and of Bixiou, a pupil of Gros, was admitted to work in that 
 famous studio, whence proceeded so many different types of 
 talent, and where he formed a close intimacy with Schinner. 
 
 Then came the great 20th of March ; Captain Bridau, who
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 33 
 
 joined the Emperor at Lyons and escorted him back to the 
 Tuileries, was promoted to be major of the Dragoon Guards. 
 After the battle of Waterloo, where he was wounded, but 
 slightly, and won the cross of a commander of the Legion of 
 Honor, he next found himself with Marechal Davoust at 
 Saint-Denis, and not with the army of the Loire ; thus, by 
 the interest of Marechal Davoust, he was allowed to retain his 
 cross and his rank in the army, but he was put upon half-pay. 
 Joseph, uneasy about the future, studied meanwhile with an 
 ardor that made him ill more than once in the midst of the 
 hurricane of public events. 
 
 " It is the smell of paint," Agathe would say to Madame 
 Descoings. " He ought to give up work that is so bad for his 
 health." 
 
 All Agathe's anxieties were then centred in her son the 
 lieutenant-colonel. She saw him again in 1816, fallen from 
 his pay and profits of about nine thousand francs a year as 
 major in the Emperor's Dragoon Guards to half-pay amount- 
 ing to three hundred francs a month ; she spent her little sav- 
 ings in furnishing for him the attic over the kitchen. 
 
 Philippe was one of the most assiduous Bonapartists that 
 haunted the Cafe Lemblin, a thorough constitutional Boeotia. 
 There he acquired the habits, manners, and style of living of 
 half-pay officers; nay, he outdid them, as any young man of 
 twenty was sure to do, solemnly vowing a mortal hatred of 
 the Bourbons ; he was not to be talked over, and even re- 
 fused such opportunities as were offered him of employment 
 in the field with his full rank. In his mother's eyes Philippe 
 was showing great strength of character. 
 
 " His father could have done no better," said she. 
 
 Philippe could live on his half-pay. He would cost his 
 mother nothing, while Joseph was entirely dependent on the 
 two widows. From that moment Agathe's preference for 
 Philippe was manifest. Hitherto it had been covert ; but the 
 persecution under which he suffered as a faithful adherent to 
 3
 
 34 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 the Emperor, the memory of the wound her darling son had 
 received, his courage in adversity — which, voluntary as it was, 
 seemed to her noble adversity — brought out Agathe's weak- 
 ness. The words, " He is unfortunate," justified everything. 
 
 Joseph, whose nature overflowed with the childlike simpli- 
 city which is superabundant in the youthful artist-soul, and 
 who had been brought up to admire his elder brother, far 
 from resenting his mother's favoritism, vindicated it by shar- 
 ing in her worship of a " veteran " who had won Napoleon's 
 orders in two battles — of a man wounded at Waterloo. How 
 could he doubt the superiority of this big brother, whom he 
 had seen in the splendid green-and-gold uniform of the 
 Dragoon Guards, at the head of his squadron on the Champ 
 de Mai. And in spite of her preference, Agathe was a good 
 mother. She loved Joseph, but not blindly ; she simply did 
 not understand him. Joseph worshiped his mother, whereas 
 Philippe allowed her to adore him. Still, for her the dragoon 
 moderated his military coarseness, while he never disguised 
 his contempt for Joseph, though expressing it not unkindly. 
 As he looked at his brother's powerful head, too large for a 
 body kept thin by constant work, and still, at the age of 
 seventeen, slight and weakly, he would call him "the kid." 
 His patronizing ways would have been offensive but for the 
 artist's indifference, in the belief, indeed, that a soldier 
 always had a kind heart under his rough manners. The poor 
 boy did not yet know that really first-rate military men are as 
 gentle and polite as other superior persons. Genius is every- 
 where true to itself. 
 
 "Poor child!" Philippe would say to his mother. 
 " Don't tease him ; let him amuse himself." And this con- 
 tempt was in his mother's eyes an evidence of brotherly 
 affection. 
 
 " Philippe will always love and protect his brother," she 
 thought. 
 
 In 1816 Joseph obtained his mother's permission to convert
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 35 
 
 the loft adjoining his bedroom into a painting-room, and 
 Madame Descoings gave him a small sum to purchase such 
 things as were indispensable to his "business" as a painter; 
 for in the minds of the two widows painting was but a trade. 
 Joseph, with the energy and zeal that are part of such a 
 vocation, arranged everything in his humble studio with his 
 own hands. The landlord, at Madame Descoings' request, 
 made a skylight in the roof. Thus the attic became a large 
 room, and was painted chocolate-color by Joseph ; he hung 
 some sketches against the walls ; Agathe, not very willingly, 
 had a small cast-iron stove fixed ; and Joseph could now work 
 at home, not, however, neglecting Gros' studio or Schinner's. 
 
 The Constitutional party, consisting largely of half-pay 
 officers and the Bonapartists, who were at that time frequently 
 engaged in riots round the House of Representatives, in the 
 name of the Charter, which no one would hear of, and they 
 plotted sundry conspiracies. Philippe, who must needs get 
 mixed up in them, was arrested, but released for lack of evi- 
 dence ; but the war minister cut off his half-pay, reducing 
 him to what might be called punishment pay. France was 
 no longer the place for him ; Philippe would end by falling 
 into some trap laid by the government agents. There was at 
 that time a great talk of these agents provocateurs. So while 
 Philippe was playing billiards in cafes suspected of disaffec- 
 tion, losing his time, and getting into a habit of drinking 
 various liqueurs, Agathe lived in mortal terrors for the great 
 man of the family. 
 
 The " three Sages of Greece " were too well used to walk- 
 ing the same way every evening, to mounting the stairs to the 
 widows' rooms, and to finding the ladies always expecting 
 them, and anxious to ask them the news of the day, ever to 
 cease their visits. They came regularly to their game in the 
 little green drawing-room. The ministry of the interior, 
 thoroughly purged in 1816, had kept Claparon on its lists as 
 one of the trimmers who murmur in an undertone the news
 
 36 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 from the Moniteur, adding, " Do not get me into trouble ! " 
 Desroches, dismissed soon after his senior, du" Bruel, was 
 still fighting for his pension. These three friends, seeing 
 Agathe's despair, advised her to send the colonel abroad. 
 
 "There is much talk of conspiracies, and your son, with 
 his character, will be the victim of some such affair, for there 
 is always some one to peach." 
 
 " The devil ! " said du Bruel, in a low voice and looking 
 about him. " He is the stuff of which his Emperor used to 
 make his marshals, and he ought not to give up his calling. 
 Let him serve in the East, in the Indies " 
 
 " But his health ? " objected Agathe. 
 
 "Why does he not enter an office?" said Desroches. 
 " So many private concerns are being started. I mean to get 
 a place as head clerk in an assurance company as soon as my 
 pension is settled." 
 
 "Philippe is a soldier; he only cares for fighting," said 
 Agathe the warlike. 
 
 "Then he should be a good boy, and apply for active ser- 
 vice with " 
 
 " This crew? " cried the widow. " Oh, you will never get 
 me to suggest it ! " 
 
 "You are wrong," replied du Bruel. "My son has just 
 been helped on by the Due de Navarreins. The Bourbons 
 are very good to all who join them honestly. Your son will 
 be appointed as lieutenant-colonel to a regiment." 
 
 " They will take none but noblemen in the cavalry, and he 
 will never be full colonel," cried Madame Descoings. 
 
 Agathe, in great alarm, implored Philippe to go abroad and 
 offer his services to some foreign power., Any one of them 
 would receive with favor an officer of the Emperor's staff. 
 
 "Serve with foreigners?" cried Philippe in horror. 
 
 Agathe embraced her son fervently, exclaiming, "He is 
 his father all over." 
 
 "He is quite right," said Joseph. "A Frenchman is too
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 37 
 
 proud of his column to lead any foreign columns. Besides, 
 Napoleon may come back again yet." 
 
 To please his mother, a splendid idea occurred to Philippe : 
 He might join General Lallemand in the United States, and 
 co-operate in founding the Cliamp d'Asi/e, one of the most 
 disastrous hoaxes ever perpetrated under the name of a national 
 fund. Agathe paid ten thousand francs, and went with her 
 son to Havre to see him on board ship. 
 
 At the end of 1S17, Agathe was managing to live on the 
 six hundred francs a year left to her in government securities; 
 then, by a happy inspiration, she invested at once the ten^ 
 thousand francs that remained to her of her savings, and so 
 had seven hundred francs a year more. 
 
 Joseph wished to contribute to her act of sacrifice ; he went 
 about dressed like a bum-bailiff, wearing thick shoes and blue 
 socks ; he wore no gloves ; he burned coal instead of wood ; 
 he lived on bread, milk, and cheap cheese. The poor lad 
 never heard a word of encouragement from anybody but old 
 Madame Descoings and from Bixiou, his school-fellow and 
 fellow-student, who was by this time employed in drawing 
 capital little caricatures, besides having a small place in a 
 government office. 
 
 "How glad I was to see the summer of 1818 ! " Bridau 
 would often say when speaking of these hard times. "The 
 sun saved my buying fuel." 
 
 He was already quite as good a colorist as Gros, and only 
 I went to his master for advice; he was thinking of riding a 
 1 tilt at the classic school, of breaking free from Greek conven- 
 tionality and the leading strings which fettered an art whose 
 birthright is nature as it is, in the omnipotence of its crea- 
 tiveness and its caprice. Joseph was making ready for the 
 struggle which, from the day when he first exhibited at the 
 Salon, was never more to cease. 
 
 It was a terrible year for them all. Roguin, the widows' 
 notary, disappeared, taking with him all the money kept back
 
 28 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 during the past seven years from Madame Descoings' annuity, 
 which by this time ought to have been bringing them in two 
 thousand francs a year. Three days after this catastrophe 
 there came from New York a bill drawn on his mother by 
 Colonel Philippe. The poor fellow, swindled like so many 
 more, had lost everything in the scheme for the Cha7tip 
 d'Asile. This letter, by which Agathe, Madame Descoings, 
 and Joseph all were melted to tears, spoke of debts incurred 
 at New York, where his companions in misfortune had stood 
 surety for him. 
 
 "And it was all my doing that he went ! " cried the poor 
 mother, ingenious in finding excuses for Philippe's sins. 
 
 " I advise you not to send him often on such journeys," 
 said old Madame Descoings to her niece. 
 
 Madame Descoings was heroic ; she still paid Madame 
 Bridau a thousand crowns ; but she also still paid regularly 
 to keep up the three numbers which had never come out 
 since 1799. At this time she began to doubt the honesty of 
 the management. She accused the government authorities, 
 believing them quite capable of suppressing the issue of the 
 three numbers in the drawing so as to keep up the frenzied 
 deposits of the ticket-holders. 
 
 After a brief consideration of ways and means, it seemed 
 impossible to raise a thousand francs without selling some 
 shares. The two women talked of pledging their plate, some 
 of their house-linen, or even part of the furniture that they 
 could do without. Joseph, terrified by these plans, went to 
 call on Gerard, and explained the situation ; the great painter 
 obtained a commission for him from the master of the royal 
 household to make two copies of the portrait of Louis XVIII. , 
 at the price of five hundred francs each. Though little ad- 
 dicted to liberality, Gros took his pupil to a shop where 
 Joseph got all the necessary materials. But the thousand 
 francs were to be paid only on delivery. Joseph set to work 
 and painted four little pictures in ten days ; these he sold to
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 39 
 
 the dealers, and brought his mother a thousand francs; she 
 could meet the bill. A week later, another letter from the 
 colonel announced to his mother that he was sailing on board 
 a packet, the captain having accepted his promise to pay. 
 Philippe added that he would need at least a thousand francs 
 more on disembarking at Havre. 
 
 "Well," said Joseph to his mother, "I shall have finished 
 the copies; you can take him the thousand francs." 
 
 " Dear Joseph ! " cried Agathe, embracing him with tears. 
 "Then you really love that poor persecuted boy? He is our 
 glory and all our hope ! So young, so brave, and so unfor- 
 tunate ! Everything is against him ; let us all three at any 
 rate be on his side." 
 
 " Painting is good for something after all, you see," cried 
 Joseph, happy at having at last won his mother's permission 
 to become a great artist. 
 
 Madame Bridau flew to meet her beloved son, Colonel 
 Philippe. At Havre she walked every day to a point beyond 
 the round tower built by Francis I., every day imagining 
 fresh and dreadful alarms as she watched for the American 
 packet. None but mothers know how this kind of torment 
 revives their first motherhood. The vessel came in one fine 
 morning in October, 1819, without damage, without having 
 met the slightest squall. 
 
 The air of his native land, and the sight of his mother, 
 must always have some effect, even on the coarsest soul, espe- 
 cially after an exile full of disasters. Philippe gave way to 
 an effusiveness of feeling which made Agathe think to herself, 
 " How much this one loves me!" Alas ! the young officer 
 loved but one creature in the world, and that was Colonel 
 Philippe. His ill-fortune in Texas, his stay in New York — 
 a place where speculation and self-interest are carried to the 
 highest pitch, where the coarsest selfishness becomes cynicism, 
 where each man, living for himself alone, is compelled to
 
 40 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 tread his own path, where politeness does not exist — in short, 
 the smallest incidents of his expedition had developed in 
 Philippe all the bad tendencies of the disbanded trooper. He 
 was a bully, a drinker, a smoker, assertive and rude; penury 
 and privations had deteriorated him. Also, the colonel con- 
 sidered himself persecuted ; the effect of this belief on a man 
 of low intelligence is to make him an intolerant persecutor. 
 To Philippe the whole universe began at his head and ended 
 at his feet ; the sun shone for him alone. To crown all, his 
 experience of New York, interpreted by a man of action, had 
 robbed him of every moral scruple. 
 
 With beings of his stamp there are but two modes of exist- 
 ence : they are believers or they are unbelievers ; they have 
 all the virtues of an honest man, or they are carried away by 
 every pressure of necessity ; then they get into a habit of 
 regarding their smallest interests, and every passing wish 
 prompted by passion, as a necessity. On this plan a man 
 may go far. 
 
 In appearance, but in appearance only, the colonel had 
 preserved the blunt, frank, easy-going manner of a soldier. 
 Thus he was a very dangerous man ; he seemed as guileless as 
 a child ; but having no one to think of but himself, he never 
 did anything without carefully considering what he had best 
 do, much as a wily prosecutor considers every twist and turn 
 of a tricky rogue. Words cost him nothing, and he would 
 give you as many as you chose to believe. If a man should, 
 unluckily, be so rash as to take exception to the explanations 
 by which he would justify the discrepancies between his con- 
 duct and his speech, the colonel, who was a first-rate shot, 
 who could challenge the most skillful swordsman, and who had 
 the cool head of a man to whom life is a matter of indiffer- 
 ence, was ready to demand satisfaction for the first sharp 
 word. Pending that, he looked like a man so ready for blows 
 as to make compromise impossible. His tall figure had be- 
 come burly, his face was tanned during his stay in Texas, and
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 41 
 
 he had caught the abrupt speech and peremptory tone of a 
 man who means to be respected in the midst of the populace 
 of New York. 
 
 Such as he was, plainly dressed, and his frame evidently 
 hardened by his recent hard life, Philippe was a hero in his 
 poor mother's eyes; but he had, in fact, become what the 
 common people plainly describe as a "bad lot." 
 
 Madame Bridau, startled by her darling son's destitute con- 
 dition, had a complete outfit made for him at Havre ; as she 
 listened to the tale of his woes, she had not the heart to 
 check his eating, drinking, and amusing himself, as a man was 
 bound to drink and enjoy himself on his return from the 
 Champ a" Asile. 
 
 The occupation of Texas by the remnant of the grand 
 army was no doubt a splendid idea ; but it was the men that 
 were found wanting rather than the conditions, since Texas 
 is now a republican state of great promise. The experiment 
 made under the Restoration proved emphatically that the 
 interests of the Liberals were purely selfish, and in no sense 
 national ; aiming at power, and at nothing else. Neither the 
 material, the place, the idea, nor the good-will was lacking, 
 only the money and the support of that hypocritical party ; 
 they had vast sums at their disposal, and would give nothing 
 when the reinstatement of an empire was at stake. 
 
 Housewives of Agathe's stamp have the good sense which 
 enables them to see through such politcal frauds. The hapless 
 mother saw the truth as she heard her son's story ; for, during 
 his absence, her interest in the exile had led her to listen to 
 the pompous announcements of the Constitutional news- 
 papers, and to watch the vicissitudes of the braggart subscrip- 
 tion, which yielded scarcely a hundred and fifty thousand 
 francs when five or six millions were needed. The leaders of 
 the Liberal party very soon disco; ered that they were, in fact, 
 doing the job for Louis XVIII. t ? sending away the glorious 
 remnant of the French army, and they abandoned to their
 
 42 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 fate i he most devoted and ardent enthusiasts, who were the 
 first to go. Agathe never was able to explain to Philippe 
 that he had been the prey of fraud rather than of persecution. 
 In her belief in her idol she accused herself of stupidity, and 
 lamented the disasters of the times which had fallen on 
 Philippe. 
 
 And it was true that, until now, in all his misfortunes he 
 had been less a sinner than a victim to his fine temper and 
 energy, to the Emperor's overthrow, to the duplicity of the 
 Liberals and the vindictiveness of the Bourbons towards the 
 Bonapartists. All through the week they spent at Havre — a 
 horribly expensive week — she never dared hint that he should 
 become reconciled to the King's government and call at the 
 war office ; she had enough to do to get him away from Havre, 
 where living is very dear, and back to Paris, when she had no 
 money left but just enough for the journey. Madame Des- 
 coings and Joseph, who met them as they alighted from the 
 coach in the yard of the Messageries Royales, were shocked 
 at the change in Agathe. 
 
 "Your mother has grown ten years older in two months," 
 said the old lady to Joseph, in the midst of the embracing, 
 while their two trunks were taken down. 
 
 "Well, Granny Descoings, and how are you?" was 
 Philippe's tender greeting to the grocer's widow, whom 
 Joseph affectionately addressed as " Maman " Descoings. 
 
 " We have no money to pay for the cab," said Agathe 
 piteously. 
 
 " But I have," replied the young painter. " My brother 
 is splendidly burnt ! " he exclaimed, looking at Philippe. 
 
 " Yes, I am colored like a pipe. But you have not altered, 
 little man." 
 
 Joseph, now one-and-twenty, and much appreciated by a 
 few friends who had stood by him in evil days, felt his 
 powers, and was conscious of his talent. In a little society 
 of young men devoted to science, letters, politics, and phil-
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 43 
 
 osophy, he represented painting ; he was hurt by his brother's 
 contemptuous tone, emphasized by an incivility ; Philippe 
 pulled his ear as if he were a mere child. Agathe observed 
 the sort of chill which came over Madame Descoings and 
 Joseph after their first affectionate warmth, but she set matters 
 right by speaking of the privations endured by Philippe dur- 
 ing his exile. 
 
 Madame Descoings, anxious to make a high day in honor 
 of the return of the prodigal son, as she called him in her 
 own mind, had prepared the best of dinners to which she 
 had invited old Claparon and the elder Desroches. All the 
 friends of the family were invited, and came in the evening. 
 Joseph had asked Leon Giraud, d'Arthez, Michel Chrestien, 
 Fulgence Ridal, and Bianchon, his friends of the coterie. 
 Madame Descoings had told Bixiou — her stepson, as she 
 called him — that the young people would play a game of 
 ecarte. The younger Desroches, sternly forced by his father 
 to become a law-student, also joined the party. Du Bruel, 
 Claparon, Desroches, and the Abbe Loraux stared at the 
 traveler, frightened by his coarse face and manners, his voice 
 husky with dram-drinking, his vulgar language and looks. 
 While Joseph was setting out and arranging the card-tables, 
 her most intimate friends gathered round Agathe and asked 
 her : 
 
 "What do you intend to do with Philippe? " 
 
 " I do not know," said she. "But he is still determined 
 not to serve under the Bourbons." 
 
 "It is very difficult to find him a place in France. If he 
 will not re-enter the army, he will not easily find a pigeon- 
 hole ready for him in the civil service," said old du Bruel. 
 "And only to listen to him is enough to prove that he will 
 never make a fortune, like my son, by writing plays." 
 
 Agathe's glance in reply was enough to make them all 
 understand how anxious she was as to Philippe's prospects ; 
 and as neither of her friends had any suggestions to offer,
 
 44 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 they all kept silence. The exile, young Desroches, and 
 Bixiou were playing ecarte, a game that was then the rage. 
 
 " Maman Descoings, my brother has no money to play 
 with," said Joseph, in the kind and staunch old lady's ear. 
 
 The gambler in the lottery went to fetch twenty francs, and 
 gave them to the artist, who quietly slipped them into his 
 brother's hands. 
 
 All the guests arrived. Two tables were set for boston, and 
 the party grew lively. Philippe proved but a sorry player. 
 After winning a good deal at first, he lost, till, by eleven 
 o'clock, he owed fifty francs to young Desroches and Bixiou. 
 The noise and disputes over the ecarte more than once dis- 
 turbed the peaceful boston players, and they kept covert 
 watch over Philippe. The colonel gave evidence of such a 
 bad spirit that, in his last wrangle with young Desroches — 
 who was not very good-tempered either — the elder Desroches, 
 though his son was in the right, pronounced against him, and 
 desired him to play no more. Madame Descoings did the 
 same with her grandson, who had begun firing such keen 
 witticisms that Philippe did not understand them ; still, they 
 might have led this caustic satirist into danger if by chance 
 one of his barbed arrows had pierced the colonel's dense 
 intelligence. 
 
 "You must be tired," said Agathe to Philippe. "Come 
 to your room." 
 
 "Traveling forms the young ! " said Bixiou, smiling, when 
 Agathe and the colonel were out of the room. 
 
 Joseph, who rose with the dawn and went early to rest, did 
 not see the evening out. Next morning Agathe and her 
 frit iid, as they laid breakfast in the front room, could not help 
 thinking that evening company would cost them very dear if 
 Philippe went on playing " that game," as Madame Descoings 
 phrased it. The old woman, now seventy-six years of age, 
 proposed to sell her furniture, to give up her rooms on the 
 third floor to the landlord— who was most willing to have
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 45 
 
 them — to take Agathe's drawing-room for her bedroom, and 
 to use the other room as a sitting and dining-room in one. In 
 this way they could save seven hundred francs a year. This re- 
 trenchment would enable them to allow Philippe fifty francs a 
 month while he was looking out for something to do. Agathe 
 accepted the sacrifice. 
 
 When the colonel came down, after his mother had asked 
 him if he had been comfortable in his little room, the two 
 widows laid the state of affairs before him. Madame Des- 
 coings and Agathe, by combining their incomes, had five thou- 
 sand three hundred francs a year, of which four thousand were 
 Madame Descoings' annuity. The old lady allowed Bixiou 
 six hundred francs a year — for the last six months she had 
 owned him to be her grandson — and six hundred to Joseph ; 
 the rest, with Agathe's income, was spent in housekeeping 
 generally. All their savings were gone. 
 
 "Be quite easy," said the colonel; "I will look out for 
 some appointment. I will cost you nothing. All I want is a 
 crust and a crib for the present." 
 
 Agathe kissed her son, and his old friend slipped a hundred 
 francs into his hand to pay the gambling debt of the evening 
 before. 
 
 Within ten days the sale of the furniture, the giving up of 
 the rooms, and the necessary changes in Agathe's dwelling 
 were effected with the rapidity to be seen only in Paris. Dur- 
 ing these ten days Philippe regularly made himself scarce 
 after breakfast, came in to dinner, went out in the evening, 
 and did not come home to bed till midnight. 
 
 This was the plan of life into which the soldier fell almost 
 mechanically, and which became a rooted habit ; he had his 
 boots blacked on the Pont Neuf for the two sous he would other- 
 wise have spent in crossing by the Pont des Arts to the Palais 
 Royal, where he took two liqueur glasses of brandy while read- 
 ing the papers, an occupation absorbing him till mid-day ; at 
 about noon he made his way by the Rue Vivienne to the Cafe
 
 46 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 Minerve, at that time the headquarters of the Liberals, and 
 there he played billiards with some retired fellow-officers. 
 There, while he won or lost, Philippe always got through three 
 or four more glasses of various spirits, and then smoked ten 
 regie cigars as he wandered and lounged about the streets. In 
 the evening, after smoking a few pipes at the Estaminet Hol- 
 landais, he went up to the gambling tables at about ten. The 
 waiter handed him a card and a pin ; he consulted certain 
 experienced players as to the state of the run on red or black, 
 and staked ten francs at an opportune moment, never playing 
 more than three times, whether he won or lost. When he 
 had won, as he commonly did, he drank a tumbler of punch 
 and made his way home to his attic ; but by this time he 
 would be talking of smashing up the ultras and the body guard, 
 and sing on the stairs, "Preserve the Empire from its foes." 
 His poor mother, as she heard him, would say, "Philippe is 
 in good spirits this evening," and she would go up to give 
 him a kiss, never complaining of the reek of punch, spirits, 
 and tobacco. 
 
 " You ought to be pleased with me, my dear mother," said 
 he one day towards the end of January. "I am sure I lead 
 the most regular life ! " 
 
 Philippe had dined out five times with some old comrades. 
 These soldiers had talked over the state of their affairs, and 
 discussed the hopes they founded on the building of a sub- 
 marine vessel to be employed to deliver the Emperor. 
 Among the fellow-officers he here met again, Philippe was 
 particularly thick with a former captain of the Dragoon Guard 
 named Giroudeau, in whose company he had first smelt gun- 
 powder. This officer of dragoons was the cause of Philippe's 
 completing what Rabelais calls the devil's outfit, and adding 
 a fourth iniquity to his dram, his cigar, and his gambling. 
 
 One evening, at the beginning of February, Giroudeau 
 took Philippe after dinner to the Gaitc Theatre, to a box
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 47 
 
 sent to a small theatrical paper belonging to his nephew Finot, 
 for whom the old soldier kept the cash-box and the accounts, 
 addressed and checked the papers. Dressed after the fashion 
 of the Bonapartist officers of the Constitutional opposition, 
 in loose, long coats, with a square collar buttoned up to the 
 chin, hanging to their heels, and decorated with the rosette, 
 armed with a loaded cane, hanging to the wrist by a plaited 
 leather cord, the two troopers had treated themselves to a 
 skinful, as they expressed it, and opened their hearts to each 
 other as they went into the box. Through the haze of a 
 considerable number of bottles of wine and "nips" of 
 sundry liqueurs, Giroudeau pointed out to Philippe a plump 
 and nimble little damsel on the stage, known as Florentine, 
 whose favors and affections, as well as the box, were his 
 through the all-powerful influence of the paper. 
 
 "But dear me," said Philippe, "how far does she carry 
 her favors for an old dappled -gray trooper like you ? " 
 
 "Praise the Lord, I have never forgotten the old principles 
 of our glorious uniform ! " said Giroudeau. " I never spent 
 two farthings on a woman." 
 
 "What next?" cried Philippe, with a finger to his left 
 eye. 
 
 " Quite true," said Giroudeau. "But, between ourselves, 
 the paper has something to do with it. To-morrow you will 
 see, in two lines, the management will be advised to give 
 Mademoiselle Florentine a pas seul. On my word, my dear 
 boy, I am very happy," said Giroudeau. 
 
 "Well," thought Philippe, "if this venerable Giroudeau, 
 in spite of a skull as bare as your knee, his eight-and-forty 
 years, his tub (saloir), his face like a vine-grower's, and his 
 nose like a potato, can be sweetheart to a dancer, I ought to 
 be the man for the first actress in Paris. Where are such 
 articles to be had?" he asked Giroudeau. 
 
 "I will take you this evening to see Florentine's humble 
 home. Though my dulcinea gets but fifty francs a month
 
 48 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 from the theatre, thanks to a retired silk mercer named Car- 
 dot, who allows her five hundred francs a month, she is not 
 so badly set up." 
 
 "Why — what?" said Philippe, jealous. 
 
 " Pooh ! " said Giroudeau. "True love is blind." 
 
 After the play Giroudeau took Philippe to see Mademoi- 
 selle Florentine, who lived in the Rue de Crussol, a stone's- 
 throw from the theatre. 
 
 "We must behave," said Giroudeau ; " Florentine has her 
 mother with her. As you may suppose, I cannot afford to 
 allow her one, and the good woman really is her mother. 
 The woman was a doorkeeper, but she does not lack brains, 
 and her name is Cabirolle. Call her madame ; she is par- 
 ticular about that." 
 
 Florentine had at her house that evening a friend of hers, 
 a certain Marie Godeschal, as lovely as an angel, as cold as a 
 ballet-dancer, and a pupil of Vestris, who promised her the 
 highest terpsichorean distinctions. Mademoiselle Godeschal, 
 who was anxious to come out at the " Panorama-dramatique," 
 under the name of Mariette, counted on the patronage of a 
 first groom of the Chambers, to whom Vestris had long 
 promised to present her. Vestris, as yet still in full vigor, 
 did not think his pupil sufficiently advanced. Marie Gode- 
 schal was ambitious, and she made her assumed name of 
 Mariette famous ; but her ambition was praiseworthy. She 
 had a brother, a clerk in Derville the lawyer's office. Or- 
 phans and poor, but loving each other truly, the brother and. 
 sister had seen life as it is in Paris; he wished to become an 
 attorney so as to provide for his sister ; she determined in 
 cold blood to be a dancer, and to avail herself of her beauty 
 as well as of her nimble legs to buy a connection for her 
 brother. Apart from their affections for each other, from 
 their interests and their life together, everything else was to 
 them, as to the ancient Romans and the Hebrews, barbarian, 
 foreign, and inimical. This beautiful affection, which noth-
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 49 
 
 ing could ever change, explained Mariette's life to those who 
 knew her well. 
 
 The brother and sister lived at this time on the eighth floor 
 of a house in the Vieille Rue du Temple. Mariette had 
 begun learning at the age of ten, and had now seen sixteen 
 summers. Alas ! for lack of a little dress her dainty beauty, 
 hidden under an Angola shawl, perched on iron pattens, 
 dressed in cotton print, and only moderately neat, could 
 never be suspected by any one but the Paris lounger in pursuit 
 of griseties and on the track of beauty under a cloud. 
 
 Philippe fell in love with Mariette. What Mariette found 
 in Philippe was an officer of the Dragoon Guards and of the 
 Emperor's staff, a young man of seven-and-twenty, and the 
 delight of proving herself superior to Florentine by the evi- 
 dent superiority of Philippe to Giroudeau. Both Florentine 
 and Giroudeau — he to give his comrade pleasure, and she 
 to procure a protector for her friend — urged Mariette and 
 Philippe to a "water-color marriage." The Parisian expres- 
 sion a la dctrempe is equivalent to the words " morganatic 
 marriage" applied to kings and queens. 
 
 Philippe, as they went out, explained to Giroudeau how 
 poor he was. 
 
 " I will mention you to my nephew Finot," said Giroudeau. 
 " Look here, Philippe, this is the day of black coats and fine 
 words ; we must knock under. The inkstand is all powerful 
 now. Ink takes the place of gunpowder, and words are used 
 instead of shot. After all, these little vermin of editors are 
 very ingenious, and not bad fellows. Come to see me to- 
 morrow at the office ; by that time I will have spoken two 
 words about you to my nephew. Before long you will have 
 something to do on some newspaper. Mariette, who will 
 have you now because she has nothing else — make no mistake 
 on that point — no engagement, no hope of coming out, and 
 whom I told that, like me, you were going in for journalism 
 — Mariette will prove that she loves you for yourself, and you 
 4
 
 50 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 will believe her! Do as I do ; keep her from rising as long 
 as you can. I was so desperately in love that as soon as 
 Florentine wanted to dance a pas seul, I begged Finot to 
 write her up ; but says my nephew to me, ' She is clever, is 
 she not ? Well, the day she first dances a step of her own she 
 will show you across the doorstep.' That's Finot all over. 
 Oh, you'll find him a wide-awake chap." 
 
 Next day, at about four o'clock, Philippe made his way to 
 the Rue du Sender, and up to a small room on the entresol, 
 where he found Giroudeau shut up like a wild beast in a sort 
 of hen-coop with a wicket ; it contained a little stove, a little 
 table, two little chairs, and some little billets for the fire. 
 The whole apparatus was dignified by these magical words, 
 Office for Subscribers, painted on the outside door in black 
 letters, and the word Cashier in running hand on a board 
 hung on the bars of the cage. Along the wall opposite the 
 old trooper's coop was a bench, on which an old soldier was 
 eating a snack ; he had lost an arm, and Giroudeau addressed 
 him as Coloquinte (Colocynth), by reason, no doubt, of the 
 Egyptian hue of his face. 
 
 "Sweetly pretty!" said Philippe, looking about him. 
 "What business have you here — you who rode in poor 
 Colonel Chabert's charge at Evlau ? In the devil's name ! 
 
 In all the devils' names ! A superior officer " showing 
 
 the utmost astonishment at his friend's novel position. 
 
 "Why, yes! Roo-ty too-too ! A superior officer signing 
 receipts in a newspaper office," said Giroudeau, settling his 
 black silk skull-cap. " And what is more, I am the responsi- 
 ble editor of that rhodomontade," and he pointed to the 
 paper. 
 
 "And I, who once went to Egypt, now go to the stamp 
 office," said the pensioner. 
 
 " Silence, Coloquinte," said Giroudeau. " You are in the 
 presence of a brave man who carried the Emperor's orders at 
 the battle of Montmirail ! "
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 51 
 
 " Pre-sent arms ! " cried Coloquinte. " I lost my missing 
 arm there." 
 
 "Coloquinte, mind the shop; lam going upstairs to my 
 nephew." 
 
 The two soldiers went up to the fifth floor, to an attic at 
 the end of a passage, and found a young man with cold, 
 colorless eyes stretched on a shabby sofa. The civilian did 
 not disturb himself, though he offered cigars to his uncle and 
 his uncle's friend. 
 
 " My dear fellow," said Giroudeau, in a meek and gentle 
 voice, " here is the valiant major of whom I spoke." 
 
 "What then ? " said Finot, looking Philippe from head to 
 foot, while the officer lost all his spirit, like Giroudeau, in the 
 presence of the diplomat of the press. 
 
 " My dear boy," said Giroudeau, trying to play the uncle, 
 " the colonel has just come from Texas." 
 
 " Oh ! you were caught for Texas and the Champ a" ' Asile ? 
 You were very young, too, to turn soldier-ploughman." 
 
 The sting of this witticism can be appreciated only by 
 those who can remember the flood of prints, screens, clocks, 
 bronzes, and casts to which the idea of the soldier-ploughman 
 gave rise, as a great allegory of the fate of Napoleon and his 
 veterans, which at last found vent in various satirical songs. 
 The idea was worth a million at least ; you may still see the 
 soldier-ploughman on wall-papers in the depths of the prov- 
 inces. 
 
 If this young man had not been Giroudeau's nephew, 
 Philippe would have smacked his cheeks. 
 
 "Yes, I was caught for it; and I lost twelve thousand 
 francs and my time," replied he, trying to force a smile. 
 
 "And you still love the Emperor? " 
 
 " He is my God ! " replied Philippe Bridau. 
 
 " You are a Liberal ? " 
 
 " I shall always side with the Constitutional opposition. 
 Oh, Foy ! Manuel ! Laffitte ! There are men for you. They
 
 52 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 will rid us of these wretches who have sneaked in at the heels 
 af the foreigners." 
 
 "Well, then," said Finot coldly, "you must take the 
 benefit of your misfortunes, for you are a victim to the 
 Liberals, my good fellow. Remain a Liberal if you are set 
 on your opinions ; but threaten the Liberals with divulging 
 the madness of the Texas scheme. You never got a farthing 
 of the national subscription, I suppose ? Well, then, you are 
 in a splendid position : ask for the accounts of the fund. 
 This is what will happen : A fresh newspaper is now being 
 started by the Opposition under the auspices of the deputies 
 of the Left ; you will be made cashier with a thousand crowns 
 a year, a place for life. You have only to find twenty thou- 
 sand francs as security; get them, and in a week you will 
 have a berth. I will advise them to silence you by making 
 them offer you the place — but cry out, and cry loud ! " 
 
 Giroudeau allowed Philippe to go down a few steps before 
 him, pouring out thanks as he went, and said to his nephew : 
 " Well, you're a pretty fellow, you are ! You let me hang on 
 here with twelve hundred francs a year " 
 
 "The paper will not live a year," replied Finot. " I have 
 something better for you." 
 
 " By heaven ! " said Philippe to Giroudeau, "that nephew 
 of yours is no fool. I had never thought of taking the benefit 
 of my position, as he puts it." 
 
 That evening, at the Cafe Lemblin and the Cafe Minerve, 
 Colonel Philippe broke out in abuse of the Liberals who sent 
 a man to Texas, who talked gammon about the soldier- 
 ploughman, who left brave men to starve in misery after 
 squeezing twenty thousand francs out of them, and driving 
 them for two years from pillar to post. 
 
 "I mean to ask for an account of the money subscribed 
 for the Champ d'Asffe," he said to one of the regular cus- 
 tomers at the Cafe Minerve, who repeated it to the journalists 
 of the Left.
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 53 
 
 Philippe did not go home to the Rue Mazarine ; he went 
 to tell Mariette that he was about to be employed on a paper 
 with ten thousand subscribers, in which her terpsichorean 
 ambitions should be ardently supported. Agathe and Madame. 
 Descoings sat up for him in an agony of terror, for the Due 
 de Berry had that moment been assassinated. 
 
 The colonel walked in next day, a few minutes after break- 
 fast. When his mother expressed her uneasiness at his 
 absence, he flew into a passion, and asked if he were of age 
 or not. 
 
 " By heaven ! I come in with good news, and you all look 
 as solemn as hearses. The Due de Berry is dead ! Well, so 
 much the better ! There is one less of them ! I am going 
 to be cashier in a newspaper office, with a thousand crowns a 
 year, so you are free from all worry so far as I am concerned," 
 exclaimed Philippe. 
 
 "Is it possible ? " cried Agathe. 
 
 " Yes, if you can stand surety for twenty thousand francs. 
 You have only to deposit your securities for thirteen hundred 
 francs a year, and you will draw your half-yearly dividends 
 all the same." 
 
 The two widows, who for two months past had been killing 
 themselves with wondering what Philippe was doing, and how 
 to find him employment, were so delighted at his prospects 
 that they thought no more of the various difficulties of the 
 hour. In the evening old du Bruel, Claparon, who was a 
 dying man, and the inflexible Desroches senior — the three 
 Sages of Greece — were unanimous. They advised the widow 
 to stand surety for her son. The paper having been started, 
 most fortunately, before the murder of the Due de Berry, es- 
 caped the blow struck at the press by M. Decaze. The widow 
 Bridau's state securities for thirteen hundred francs of divi- 
 dends were deposited as a pledge for Philippe, and he was 
 appointed cashier. This good son then promised to pay the 
 widows a hundred francs a month for his board and lodging,
 
 64 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 and was regarded as the best of good boys. Those who had 
 thought ill of him congratulated Agathe. 
 
 " We judged him wrongly," they said. 
 
 Poor Joseph, not to be left in the lurch, tried to keep him- 
 self, and succeeded. 
 
 At the end of three months, the colonel — who ate and 
 drank for four, who was very particular, and, under the pre- 
 text of his paying, led the two widows into expensive living 
 — had not contributed a farthing. Neither his mother noi 
 Madame Descoings would remind him of his promise, out of 
 delicate feeling. The year went by, and not one of the crown* 
 pieces, which Leon Gozlan picturesquely calls a tiger with 
 five claws, had passed from Philippe's pocket to the house* 
 keeping. On this point, to be sure, the colonel had silenced 
 his scruples of conscience ; he rarely dined at home. 
 
 "And, after all, he is happy," said his mother. "He is 
 easy, he has an appointment." 
 
 Through the influence of the theatrical articles, written by 
 Vernon, a friend of Bixiou's, of Finot's, and Giroudeau's, 
 Mariette came out; not indeed at the Panorama-dramatique, 
 but at the Porte Saint-Martin, where she was a success even by 
 the side of Begrand. Among the directors of that theatre 
 there was just then a wealthy and luxurious general, who, 
 being in love with an actress, had become an impresario for 
 her sake. There are always in Paris men in love with some 
 actress, dancer, or singer, who make themselves theatrical 
 managers for love's sake. This general knew Philippe and 
 Giroudeau. By the help of the two newspapers, Finot's and 
 Philippe's, Mariette's debut was arranged by the three officers, 
 with all the greater ease because, as it would seem, such pas- 
 sions are always reciprocally helpful in matters of folly. 
 
 Bixiou, ever mischievous, had soon told his grandmother 
 and pious Agathe that Philippe the cashier, the bravest of the 
 brave, was the lover of Mariette, the famous dancer at the
 
 A BA CHEL OX'S ES TABL ISHMENT. 55 
 
 Porte Saint-Martin. The stale news fell like a thunder-clap 
 on the two widows. In the first place, Agathe's religious 
 sentiments made her look on the women of the stage as brands 
 of hell, and then they both believed that such women ate 
 gold, drank pearls, and devoured the finest fortunes that 
 came in their way. 
 
 " Why ! " said Joseph to his mother, " do you suppose that 
 Philippe would be such a fool as to give any money to Mari- 
 ette? Such women only ruin rich men." 
 
 " There is a talk already of securing Mariette at the Opera- 
 house," said Bixiou. " But don't be alarmed, Madame Bridau ; 
 the corps diplomatique haunts the Porte Saint-Martin, and 
 that handsome girl will soon throw over your son. They say 
 there is an ambassador who is desperately in love with Mari- 
 ette. There is some other news. Old Claparon is dead, and 
 is to be buried to-morrow; and his son, who is a banker, and 
 rolling in gold and silver, has ordered a third-class funeral. 
 The fellow has no breeding. Such a thing could not happen 
 in China!" 
 
 Philippe, with an eye to profit, proposed to marry the 
 dancer ; but being on the eve of an engagement at the opera, 
 Mademoiselle Godeschal refused him, either because she 
 guessed the colonel's motive or because she understood that 
 independence was necessary to her fortunes. 
 
 Throughout the remainder of this year Philippe came to 
 see his mother twice a month at most. Where was he? At 
 his office, at the theatre, or with Mariette. No light was 
 shed on his proceedings in the home in the Rue Mazarine. 
 
 Giroudeau, Finot, Bixiou, Vernon, and Lousteau saw him 
 leading a life of pleasure. Philippe was at every party given 
 by Tullia, one of the first singers at the opera ; by Florentine, 
 who took Mariette's place at the Porte Saint-Martin ; by 
 Florine and Matifat, Coralie and Camusot. From four o'clock, 
 when he left his office, he amused himself till midnight ; for 
 there was always some play arranged the day before, a good
 
 56 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT, 
 
 dinner given by somebody, an evening at cards, or a supper 
 party. Philippe lived in his element. 
 
 But this carnival, which lasted for eighteen months, was 
 not devoid of cares. The fair Mariette on her debut at the 
 opera, in January, 1S21, subjugated one of the most brilliant 
 dukes of Louis XVIII. 's court. Philippe tried to hold his 
 own against the duke ; but, notwithstanding some luck at the 
 gaming table, as the month of April came round his passion 
 compelled him to borrow from the cash-box of the newspaper. 
 In the month of May he owed eleven thousand francs. In 
 the course of that fatal month Mariette went to London, to 
 make what she might out of the milords, while the temporary 
 Opera-house was being built in the Rue le Pelletier. Philippe 
 the ill-starred still loved Mariette in spite of her flagrant infi- 
 delities — such things happen ; she, on her part, had never 
 seen anything in him but a rough and brainless soldier, the 
 first rung of the ladder, on which she did not mean to stay 
 long. Also, as she had foreseen the day when Philippe would 
 have no more money, the dancer had been clever enough to 
 secure supporters among journalists, which made it unneces- 
 sary for her to cling to Philippe ; still, she felt the gratitude 
 peculiar to women of her stamp to the man who had been 
 the first to level the obstacles in the dreadful career of an 
 actress. 
 
 Philippe, thus obliged to let his terrible mistress go to 
 London without being able to follow her, returned to his 
 winter quarters, to use his own expression, and came home to 
 , his attic in the Rue Mazarine ; there he made many gloomy 
 reflections as he went to bed and got up again. He felt it 
 impossible to live otherwise than as he had been living for 
 this year past. The luxury of Mariette's life, the dinners 
 and suppers, the evenings spent behind the scenes, the high 
 spirits of wits and journalists, the turmoil he had lived in, 
 and all the flattering effect on his senses and on his vanity — 
 this existence, which is to be found only in Paris, and which
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 57 
 
 offers some new sensation every day, had become more than 
 a habit to Philippe; it was a necessity, like tobacco and drams. 
 Indeed, he plainly perceived that he could not live without 
 this constant enjoyment. 
 
 The idea of suicide passed through his mind, not on ac- 
 count of the deficit which would be discovered in his balance, 
 but by reason of the impossibility of being with Mariette 
 and living in the atmosphere of pleasures in which he had 
 wallowed for the last twelvemonth. Full of these gloomy 
 notions, he made his appearance, for the first time, in his 
 brother's studio, and found Joseph at work, in a blue blouse, 
 copying a picture for a dealer. 
 
 "So that is the way pictures are made? " said Philippe as 
 an opening. 
 
 "No," said Joseph, "but that is the way they are 
 copied." 
 
 " How much do you get for that ? " 
 
 " Oh, never enough. Two hundred and fifty francs ; but 
 I study the master's method ; I learn by it, I find out the 
 secrets of the trade. There is one of my pictures," he went 
 on, pointing with the handle of his brush to a sketch of which 
 the paint was still wet. 
 
 "And how much a year do you pocket now?" continued 
 his brother. 
 
 "Unfortunately, I am as yet unknown excepting to the 
 painters. Schinner is giving me a helping hand ; he is to 
 get me some work at the chateau de Presles, where I am going 
 in October to paint some arabesques and borders, and orna- 
 ments for the Comte de Serizy, who pays very well. With 
 pot-boilers, like this dealer's orders, I may make eighteen 
 hundred to two thousand francs before long, all clear profit. 
 But I shall send that picture in to the next exhibition ; if it 
 is liked, I am a made man. My friends think well of it." 
 
 "I am no judge," said Philippe in a quiet tone, which 
 made Joseph look up at him.
 
 58 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 " What is the matter?" he asked, seeing his brother look 
 pale. 
 
 " I want to know how long it would take you to paint my 
 portrait." 
 
 "Well, if I worked at nothing else, and the light were 
 good, I could do it in three or four days." 
 
 " That is too long. I can only give you a day. My poor 
 mother is so fond of me that I should wish to leave her my 
 likeness. But say no more about it." 
 
 " Why, are you going away again ? " 
 
 "Going, never to return," said Philippe with affected 
 cheerfulness. 
 
 " Come, Philippe, my dear fellow, what ails you? If it is 
 anything serious, I am a man, and I am not a simpleton. I 
 am preparing for a hard struggle, and if discretion is needed 
 I can hold my tongue." 
 
 " Can I rely upon it ? " 
 
 " On my honor." 
 
 " You will never say a word to any living being? " 
 
 "Never." 
 
 "Well, then, I am going to blow my brains out." 
 
 " What, are you going to fight a duel ?" 
 
 " I am going to kill myself." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " I have taken eleven thousand francs out of the cash-box, 
 and I must give in my accounts to-morrow; my deposit- 
 money will be diminished by half; my poor mother will be 
 reduced to six hundred francs a year. That, after all, is 
 nothing ; I might be able later to give her back a fortune. 
 But I am disgraced ; I will not live disgraced," Philippe re- 
 plied, dejectedly. 
 
 "You will not be disgraced if you pay; but you will lose 
 your place; you will have nothing left but the five hundred 
 francs pension attached to your cross. Still, you can live on 
 five hundred francs."
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 59 
 
 "Good-by," ciied Philippe, who hurried downstairs, and 
 would not listen. 
 
 Joseph left his work, and went down to join his mother at 
 breakfast; but Philippe's confession had spoiled his appetite. 
 He took Madame Descoings aside, and told her the dreadful 
 news. The old woman gave a loud cry of dismay, dropped a 
 pipkin full of milk that she had in her hand, and sank on to 
 a chair. Agathe hurried in. With one exclamation and an- 
 other, the fatal facts were told to the mother. 
 
 " He? To fail in honesty ! Bridau's son has taken money 
 that was intrusted to his keeping ! " 
 
 The widow was trembling in every limb ; her eyes seemed 
 to grow larger in a fixed stare ; she sat down, and burst into 
 tears. 
 
 "Where is he?" she cried between her sobs. "Perhaps 
 he has thrown himself into the Seine ! " 
 
 "You must not despair," said Madame Descoings, "be- 
 cause the poor boy has come in the way of a bad woman, and 
 she made a fool of him. Dear me ; that often happens ! 
 Until he came home Philippe had been so constantly unlucky, 
 he had so few chances of being happy and loved, that we 
 need not wonder at his passion for this creature. All passions 
 lead to excess. I have had something of the kind in my life 
 for which I blame myself, and yet I think myself an honest 
 woman. One fault does not constitute a vice ! Besides, after 
 all, only those who do nothing at all never make any 
 mistakes." 
 
 Agathe was so overwhelmed by despair that the old lady i 
 and Joseph were obliged to make light of Philippe's crime by 
 telling her that such things occur in every family. 
 
 "But he is eight-and-twenty ; " cried Agathe, "he is no 
 longer a child ! " a cry of anguish betraying what the poor 
 woman thought of her son's conduct. 
 
 " I assure you, mother, that he thinks of nothing but your 
 grief and the wrong he has done," said Joseph.
 
 60 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 "Oh, great God! Bring him back. Only let him live, 
 and I will forgive him all ! " cried the poor mother, who in 
 fancy beheld a horrible picture of Philippe dragged dead out 
 of the river. 
 
 For some minutes awful silence reigned. The day was 
 spent in dreadful suspense. All three flew to the sitting-room 
 window at the least noise, and gave themselves up to endless 
 conjectures. 
 
 While his family were in this despair, Philippe was calmly 
 setting everything in order in his office. He had the impu- 
 dence to hand in his accounts, saying that, for fear of mis- 
 chance, he had kept eleven thousand francs at his lodgings. 
 The rascal left at four o'clock, taking five hundred francs 
 more from the cash-box, and coolly went up to the gambling 
 tables, where he had not been seen since his appointment, for 
 he had at least understood that a cashier must not frequent a 
 gambling hell. His subsequent conduct will show that he re- 
 sembles his grandfather Rouget rather than his admirable 
 father. He might perhaps have made a good general ; but in 
 private life he was one of those deep-dyed scoundrels who 
 shelter their audacity and their evil deeds behind the screen 
 of strict legality, and under the reticence of the family roof. 
 
 Philippe was perfectly calm during this critical venture. 
 At first he won, and picked up as much as six thousand 
 francs; but he let himself be dazzled by the hope of ending 
 his anxieties at one stroke. He left the game of trente-et- 
 quarante on hearing that at the roulette table there had been 
 a run of sixteen on the black ; he staked five thousand francs 
 on the red, and black turned up again for the seventeenth 
 time. The colonel then staked his remaining thousand 
 francs on the black, and won. Notwithstanding this astonish- 
 ing intuition of the chances, his head was not clear ; he felt 
 this, and yet he would go on ; but the spirit of divination 
 which guides players, enlightening them by flashes, was 
 already exhausted. It was now intermittent — the gamester's
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 61 
 
 ruin. Intuition, like the rays of the sun, acts only in an in- 
 flexibly straight line ; it can guess right only on condition of 
 never diverting its gaze ; the freaks of chance disturb it. 
 Philippe lost everything. After so severe an ordeal the most 
 reckless spirit or the boldest must collapse. 
 
 As he went home Philippe thought the less of his promise 
 to kill himself, because he had never really meant it. He 
 had forgotten his lost appointment, his impaired deposit- 
 money, his mother, and Mariette — the cause of his ruin ; he 
 walked on mechanically. When he went in, his mother, 
 bathed in tears, Madame Descoings, and Joseph threw their 
 arms round his neck, hugged him, and led him with rejoicing 
 to a seat by the fire. 
 
 "Good!" thought he; "the announcement has had its 
 effect." 
 
 The wretch put on an appropriately dolorous face, with all 
 the more ease because his evening's play had considerably 
 upset him. On seeing her atrocious Benjamin pale and de- 
 jected, his mother knelt down by him, kissing his hands, 
 pressing them to her heart, and looking long in his face with 
 her eyes full of tears. 
 
 "Philippe," she said in a choked voice, "promise not to 
 kill yourself; we will forget everything." 
 
 Philippe looked at his unnerved brother, at Madame Des- 
 coings with a tear in her eye, and he said to himself, " They 
 are good souls ! " Then he lifted up his mother, seated her 
 on his knee, clasped her to his heart, and whispered as he 
 kissed her, "You have given me new life ! " 
 
 Madame Descoings contrived to produce a very good 
 dinner, adding a couple of bottles of old wine and a little 
 West India liqueur, a treasure remaining from her former 
 stock-in-trade. 
 
 " Agathe, we must let him smoke his cigars," said she at 
 desert. And she handed Philippe some cigars. 
 
 The two poor souls believed that by giving this fellow
 
 62 A BACHELOR S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 every comfort he would learn to love his home and stay 
 there, and they tried to accustom themselves to tobacco 
 smoke, which they abominated. This immense sacrifice was 
 not even suspected by Philippe. 
 
 Next day Agathe had aged by ten years. Her alarms once 
 relieved, reflection followed, and the poor woman had not 
 closed an eye throughout that dreadful night. She was now 
 reduced to an income of six hundred francs. Madame Des- 
 coings, like all fat women who love good eating, had an 
 obstinate catarrh and cough, and was growing heavy ; her 
 step on the stairs sounded like a pavior's hammer; she might 
 die at a moment's notice, and four thousand francs would 
 perish with her. Was it not preposterous to count on that 
 source of supply? What was to be done? What would be- 
 come of her? Agathe, resolved to be a sick-nurse rather 
 than to be a burthen on her children, was not thinking of 
 herself. But what would Philippe do, reduced to his five 
 hundred francs of pension attached to the cross of the Legion 
 of Honor? 
 
 By contributing a thousand crowns a year for the last 
 eleven years, Madame Descoings had more than twice repaid 
 her debt, and she was still sacrificing her grandson's interests 
 to those of the Bridau family. Agathe, though all her strict 
 and honest sentiments were outraged, in the midst of this 
 dire disaster still could ask herself as she thought of her son, 
 " Poor boy, could he help it ? He is faithful to his oath as a 
 soldier. It is my fault for not getting him married. If I had 
 found him a wife, he would not have formed a connection 
 with this dancer. He has such a strong nature ! " 
 
 The old tradeswoman, too, had reflected during the night 
 as to the means of saving the honor of the family. At day- 
 break she got out of bed and crept to her friend's room. 
 
 " It is not your part, nor Philippe's, to manage this deli- 
 cate matter," said she. " Though our two old friends, Clap-
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 63 
 
 aron and du Bruel, are dead, we still have old Monsieur 
 Desroches, who has good judgment, and I will go to him 
 this morning. Desroches must report that Philippe has been 
 the victim of his confidence in a friend, and that his weak- 
 ness in such cases quite unfits him for the post of cashier. 
 What has happened once may happen again : Philippe prefers 
 to retire, thus he will not be dismissed." 
 
 Agathe, seeing in this official lie a cloak for Philippe's 
 honor, at any rate in the eyes of strangers, embraced the old 
 lady, who went out to settle the dreadful business. Philippe 
 had slept the sleep of the just. 
 
 " She is a sharp one ! " said he with a smile, when Agathe 
 explained to her son why breakfast was late. 
 
 Old Desroches, the last friend left to these two poor women, 
 still remembered, in spite of his hard nature, that it was 
 Bridau who had given him his place, and he executed the 
 delicate task proposed to him with the skill of an accom- 
 plished diplomat. He came to dine with the family, and to 
 remind Agathe that she must go on the morrow to the Treas- 
 ury in the Rue Vivienne to sign the transfer of the securities 
 to be sold, and take out the coupons for six hundred francs, 
 her remaining dividends. The old man did not leave this 
 hapless household till he had obtained Philippe's signature to 
 a petition to the minister of war begging to be reinstated in 
 active service. Desroches pledged his word to the two 
 women that he would forward the petition through the depart- 
 ments of the war office, and take advantage of the Duke's 
 triumph over Philippe with the dancer to secure that great 
 man's interest. 
 
 " Within three months he will be lieutenant-colonel in the 
 Due de Maufrigneuse's regiment, and you will be rid of him." 
 
 Desroches went home loaded with blessings by the two 
 women and Joseph. 
 
 As to the newspaper, as Finot had prophesied, two months 
 later it had ceased to appear. Thus, to the world, Philippe's
 
 64 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 defalcation had no results. But Agathe's motherly feeling 
 had been deeply wounded. Her belief in her son once 
 shaken, she lived in perpetual terrors, mitigated by satisfac- 
 tion when she found that her sinister anticipations were 
 unfounded. 
 
 When men like Philippe, gifted with personal courage, but 
 moral cowards and sneaks, see the course of affairs around 
 them following its usual channel after a plunge in which their 
 moral status has almost perished, this acceptance of the situ- 
 ation by their family or friends is an encouragement. They 
 are sure of impunity ; their perverted mind, their gratified 
 passions, lead them to consider how they succeeded in evad- 
 ing the social law, and they become atrociously clever. Thus, 
 a fortnight after, Philippe, once more an idle man and a 
 lounger, inevitably returned to the life of cafes, to his sittings 
 relieved by drams, his long games of billiards with punch, 
 his nightly visit to the gaming-tables, where he risked a small 
 stake at a lucky moment, and pocketed such little winnings as 
 sufficed to pay for his dissipations. He made a display of 
 economy to deceive his mother and her friend, wore an almost 
 filthy hat, hairless at the edges of the crown and brim, patched 
 boots, a threadbare greatcoat, on which the red rosette 
 scarcely showed, so darkened was it by long wear and soiled 
 with splashes of spirits or of coffee. His greenish buckskin 
 gloves lasted a long time, and he never cast off his satin stock 
 till it looked like tow. 
 
 Mariette was this man's only love, and the dancer's faith- 
 lessness did much to harden his heart. Now and then he won 
 more than he expected, or, if he were supping with his friend 
 Giroudeau, Philippe would court a Venus of the street, out 
 of a sort of brutal scorn for all her sex. Still he kept regu- 
 lar hours, breakfasted and dined at home, and came in every 
 night at about one. Three months of this wretched life re- 
 stored Agathe to some little confidence. 
 
 As fo w Joseph, who was at work on the splendid picture to
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 65 
 
 which he owed his reputation, he lived in his studio. On the 
 word of her grandson, who firmly believed in Joseph's tri- 
 umph, Madame Descoings lavished maternal care on the 
 painter; she carried up his breakfast in the morning, ran his 
 errands, blacked his boots. The artist never appeared till 
 dinner-time, and gave his evenings to his friends of the Art- 
 ists' Society. He also read a great deal ; he was giving him- 
 self the thorough and serious education which a man gets only 
 from himself, and which every man of talent does, in fact, 
 give himself between the ages of twenty and thirty. Agathe, 
 seeing so little of Joseph, and feeling no uneasiness about 
 him, lived in Philippe only, since he alone gave her those 
 alternations of rising fears and terrors allayed which are to a 
 certain extent the very life of feeling, and as necessary to 
 motherhood as love is. 
 
 Desroche?, who came about once a week to call on the 
 widow of his old friend and chief, could give her hopes ; the 
 Due de Maufrigneuse had applied for Philippe to be appointed 
 to his regiment, the war minister had asked for a report ; and as 
 the name of Bridau was not to be found on any police-list or 
 in any criminal trial, in the early part of the year Philippe 
 would get his papers and orders to join. To succeed in this 
 matter, Desroches had stirred up all his acquaintances ; his 
 inquiries at the head-office of the police led to his hearing 
 that Philippe was to be seen every night in the gaming-houses; 
 and he thought it wise to communicate the secret to Madame 
 Descoings, but to her alone, begging her to keep an eye on 
 the future lieutenant-colonel, to whom any scandal might be 
 ruin ; for the moment the war minister would not be likely to 
 ask whether Philippe were a gambler. And once enrolled 
 under the regimental flag, the officer would give up a passion 
 that was the result of want of occupation. 
 
 Agathe, who now had no company in the evening, read her 
 prayers by the fire, while Madame Descoings read her fortune 
 by the cards, interpreting her dreams, and applying the rules of 
 5
 
 66 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 the Cabala to her stakes. The light-hearted and obstinate old 
 woman never missed a drawing of lottery tickets ; she still 
 Staked on the same three numbers which had never yet been 
 drawn. This set of numbers was now nearly twenty-one years 
 old — it would soon be of age. Its holder based high hupes on 
 this trivial fact. One of the numbers had never come out at 
 any drawing of either of the wheels ever since the lottery was 
 founded, so she staked heavily on this number, and on every 
 combination of the three figures. The bottom mattress of 
 her bed was the hiding-place for the poor old creature's sav- 
 ings ; she unsewed it, pushed in the gold-piece she had saved 
 on her necessities, neatly wrapped in wool, and sewed it up 
 again. She was resolved, at the last Paris drawing, to risk 
 all her savings on the combinations of her cherished three 
 numbers. 
 
 This passion, universally condemned, has never been duly 
 studied. No one has understood this opium to poverty. 
 Did not the lottery, the most puissant fairy in the world, give 
 rise to magical hopes? The turn at roulette, which gives the 
 player a vision of limitless gold and enjoyments, only lasted 
 as long as a lightning flash ; while the lottery gave five days 
 of life to that glorious gleam. What social power can, in 
 these days, make you happy for five days, and bestow on you 
 in fancy all the delights of civilized life — for forty sous? 
 Tobacco, a mania a thousand times more mischievous than 
 gambling, destroys the body, undermines the intellect, stupe- 
 fies the nation ; the lottery caused no misfortunes of that 
 kind. The passion was compelled to moderation by the 
 interval between the drawings, and by the particular wheel 
 the ticket-holder might affect. Madame Descoings never 
 staked on any but the Paris wheel. In the hope of seeing 
 the three numbers drawn which she had kept in hand for 
 twenty years, she had subjected herself to the greatest priva- 
 tions to enable her to stake freely on the last drawing of 
 the year.
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 67 
 
 When she had cabalistic dreams — for all her dreams did 
 not bear on the numbers of the lottery — she would go and 
 tell them to Joseph ; he was the only being who would listen 
 to her, not merely without scolding her, but saying the kindly 
 words by which artists can soothe a monomania. All really 
 great minds respect and sympathize with genuine passions; 
 they understand them, finding their root in the heart or 
 the brain. As Joseph saw things, his brother loved to- 
 bacco and spirits, his old Maman Descoings loved lottery 
 tickets, his mother loved God, young Desroches loved 
 lawsuits, old Desroches loved fly-fishing ; every one, said he, 
 loves something. What he loved was ideal beauty in all 
 things- he loved Byron's poetry, Gericault's painting, Ros- 
 sini's music, Walter Scott's romances. 
 
 "Every man to his taste, maman," he would say, "but 
 your three-pounder hangs fire a very long while, it seems to 
 me. 
 
 " It will not miss. You shall be a rich man, and my little 
 Bixiou as well ! " 
 
 "Give it all to your grandson," cried Joseph. "After all, 
 do as you please." 
 
 " Oh, if it comes out, I shall have enough for everybody. 
 To begin with, you shall have a fine studio ; you shall not 
 have to give up going to the opera in order to pay your 
 models and colorman. Do you know, child," she went on, 
 " that you have not given me a very creditable part in that 
 picture of yours? " 
 
 Joseph, from motives of economy, had used Madame Des- 
 coings as the model for a head in his splendid painting of a 
 young courtesan introduced by an old woman to a Venetian 
 senator. This work, a masterpiece of modern art, mistaken 
 for a Titian by Gros himself, prepared the younger painters 
 to recognize and proclaim Joseph's superiority in the Salon 
 of 1823. 
 
 "Those who know you, know well what you are," said
 
 68 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 he gaily, " and why should you care about those who do not 
 know you ? " 
 
 In the last ten years the old woman's face had acquired 
 the mellow tone of an Easter pippin. Her wrinkles had be- 
 come set in the full flesh that had grown cold and pulpy. 
 Her eyes, full of sparkle still, seemed animated by a youthful 
 and eager thought, which might the more easily be regarded 
 as one of greed, because there is always some little greed in 
 a gambler. Her plump features betrayed deep dissimulation 
 and a dominant idea buried far down in her heart. Her 
 passion required secretiveness. The movement of her lips 
 gave a hint of gluttony. Thus, though she was in fact the 
 worthy and kind-hearted woman we have seen, the eye might 
 be mistaken in her. She was a perfect model for the old 
 woman Joseph wished to represent. 
 
 Coralie, a young actress of exquisite beauty, who died in 
 the bloom of her youth, the mistress of a friend of Bridau's, 
 Lucien de Rubempre, a young poet, had given him the idea 
 of this subject. This fine work was sometimes called an 
 imitation, but it was a splendid scene as a setting for three 
 portraits. Michel Chrestien, a youthful member of the Art- 
 ists' Society, had lent his republican countenance as a model 
 for the senator, and Joseph gave it some touches of maturity, 
 as he slightly exaggerated the expression of Madame Des- 
 coings' face. 
 
 This great picture, which was to become so famous, and to 
 give rise to so much animosity, jealousy, and admiration, was 
 only begun ; Joseph, compelled to suspend his work on it 
 and to execute commissions for a living, was busy copying 
 pictures by the old masters, thus studying all their methods; 
 no painter handles his brush more learnedly. His good sense 
 as an artist had counseled him to conceal from Madame Des- 
 coings and from his mother the amount of money he was 
 1) :ginning to make, seeing that each had a road to ruin — one 
 in Philippe and the other in the lottery. The peculiar cool-
 
 A SACTIELOR'S ESTABLISHMF.XT. 69 
 
 ness shown by the soldier in his downfall, the way in which 
 he had counted on his pretended purpose of suicide — which 
 Joseph had seen through — the mistakes he had made in the 
 career he ought never to have abandoned — in short, the 
 smallest details of his conduct — had at last opened Joseph's 
 eyes. 
 
 Such insight is rarely lacking in painters. Occupied day 
 after day in the silence of the studio, in work which leaves 
 the mind, to a certain extent, free, they grow in some way 
 womanly ; their thoughts wander round the small facts of 
 life, and detect their covert meaning. 
 
 Joseph had bought a fine old cabinet — they were yet the 
 fashion — to decorate a corner of his studio, where the light 
 played on the panels in relief, and gave lustre to a master- 
 piece of some sixteenth-century craftsman. Inside it he found 
 a secret drawer, where he hoarded a small sum in case of need. 
 With the easy trustfulness of an artist, he was accustomed to 
 keep the cash he allowed himself for pocket-money in a skull 
 that lay on one of the divisions of this cabinet ; but, since his 
 brother's return, he found a constant discrepancy between the 
 sums he spent and the balance left. The hundred francs a 
 month melted with extraordinary rapidity. On finding noth- 
 ing when he had spent but forty or fifty francs, the first time 
 he said to himself, "My money has gone traveling post, it 
 would seem!" The next time he carefully noted his ex- 
 penses; but in vain did he count, like Robert Macaire, 
 "Sixteen and five make twenty-three," it would not come 
 right. 
 
 On finding it a third time still more seriously wrong, he 
 mentioned the painful subject to his Maman Descoings, who 
 loved him, as he felt, with that maternal affection, tender, 
 trusting, credulous, and enthusiastic, which his mother did 
 not feel, however kind she might be, and which is as needful 
 to an artist at the opening of his career as a hen's care is to 
 her chicks till they are fledged. To her only could he confide
 
 70 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 his horrible suspicions. He was as sure of his friends as of 
 himself; Madame Descoings would certainly never take any- 
 thing to risk in the lottery ; and the poor soul wrung her 
 hands at the thought as he said, " Only Philippe could com- 
 mit this petty household theft." 
 
 " Why does he not ask me for what he wants? " exclaimed 
 Joseph, mixing the paints on his palette in utter confusion of 
 colors, without heeding what he was doing. " Should I 
 refuse to give him money ? " 
 
 " But it is robbing an infant ? " cried the old woman, with, 
 horror expressed in her face. 
 
 " No," replied Joseph, " he can have it ; he is my brother; 
 my purse is his ; but he ought to ask me." 
 
 " Place a fixed sum of money there this morning and don't 
 touch it," said Madame Descoings; "I shall know who 
 comes to the studio, and if nobody comes in but Philippe 
 you will know for certain." 
 
 Thus, by next day, Joseph had proof of the forced loans 
 levied on him by his brother. Philippe came up to the 
 studio in his brother's absence and took the little cash he 
 needed. The artist feared for his little hoard. 
 
 " Wait a bit, wait a bit, I will catch you out, my fine 
 rascal ! " said he to Madame Descoings with a laugh. 
 
 " Quite right; we ought to punish him, for I have found a 
 deficit occasionally in my own purse. But, poor boy, he 
 must have his tobacco ; he has made a habit of it." 
 
 "Poor boy! and poor boy indeed ! " retorted the artist. 
 " I am beginning to agree with Fulgence and Bixiou. Phil- 
 ippe is always dragging at us. First he gets mixed up in a 
 riot, and has to be sent to America, and that costs my mother 
 twelve thousand francs ; then he has not the wit to find any- 
 thing in the wilds of the New World, and it costs just as 
 much to get him home again ; under the pretext of having 
 repeated two words from Napoleon to a general, he believes 
 himself a great soldier, and bound to sulk with the Bourbons;
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 71 
 
 meanwhile he can travel, and amuse himself, and see the 
 world ! I am not to be caught with such bird-lime as the story 
 of his woes ; he does not look like a man who has not made 
 himself comfortable wherever he was ! 
 
 " Then my fine fellow has a capital place found for him ; 
 he lives like Sardanapalus with an opera girl, robs the till of a 
 newspaper, and costs his mother another twelve thousand 
 francs. Certainly, so far as I am concerned, what need I 
 care ? But Philippe will bring the poor mother to want. He 
 treats me like the dirt under his feet because I never was in 
 the Dragoon Guards ! And it will be my part, perhaps, to 
 maintain that poor dear mother in her old age, while, if he 
 goes on as he has begun, the retired officer will end I don't 
 know where. 
 
 " Bixiou said to me, 'Your brother is a nice rogue!' 
 Well, your grandson is right ; Philippe will play some reckless 
 trick yet that will compromise the honor of the family, and 
 then there will be ten or twelve thousand francs more to pay ! 
 He gambles every evening ; when he comes in as drunk as a 
 lord lie drops pricked cards on the stairs, on which he has 
 noted the turns of red and black. Old Desroches is doing 
 all he can to get Philippe reinstated in the army ; but, for my 
 part, I believe he would be in despair at having to serve again. 
 Could you have believed that a boy with such beautiful clear 
 blue eyes, and a look like the Chevalier Bayard, would ever 
 have turned out such a scoundrel ? " 
 
 Notwithstanding the caution and coolness with which 
 Philippe staked his money every evening, he was occasionally 
 cleaned out, as players say. Then, prompted by an irresist- 
 ible craving to have his stake for the evening, ten francs, he 
 helped himself in the house to his brother's money, to any 
 Madame Descoings might leave about, or to his mother's. 
 Once already the poor widow had seen through her first sleep 
 a terrible vision : Philippe had come into her room and
 
 72 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 emptied the pocket of her dress of all the money in it. She 
 had pretended to be asleep, but she had spent the rest of that 
 night in tears. She saw the truth. " One fault does not con- 
 stitute a vice," Madame Descoings had said ; but after con- 
 stant lapses the vice was plainly visible. Agathe could no 
 longer doubt ; her best-beloved son had neither feeling nor 
 honor. 
 
 The day after this dreadful vision, before Philippe went out 
 after breakfast, she called him into her room and besought 
 him in suppliant tones to ask her for the money he should 
 need. But his demands became so frequent that now, for 
 above a fortnight, Agathe' s savings had been exhausted. She 
 had not a sou left ; she thought of seeking work. For several 
 evenings she had discussed with Madame Descoings the means 
 of making money by her needle; indeed, the poor mother 
 had already asked at a shop — Le Pere de Famille — for fancy- 
 work to fill in, an employment by which she might earn about 
 a franc a day. In spite of her niece's absolute secrecy, the 
 old woman had easily guessed the reasons for this eagerness 
 to make money by such feminine arts. Indeed, the change 
 in Agathe's appearance was sufficiently eloquent ; her fresh 
 complexion was faded, the skin was drawn over the temples 
 and cheek-bones, her forehead was seamed, her eyes lost their 
 lustre, some inward fire was evidently consuming her, and she 
 spent the night in tears. 
 
 But what most deeply ravaged her was the necessity for 
 silence as to her pain, her anxieties, and her apprehensions. 
 She never went to sleep till Philippe had come in ; she lis- 
 tened for him in the street ; she had studied the differences in 
 his voice, in his step, in the very tone of his cane rattling on 
 the paving-stones. She knew everything, exactly the degree 
 of intoxication that he had reached, quaking as she heard him 
 stumble on the stairs. One night she had picked up some 
 gold-pieces on the spot where he had let himself fall. When 
 he had drunk and won, his voice was husky and his stick
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 73 
 
 dragged; but when he had lost, there was something short, 
 crisp, and furious in his footstep; he would sing a tunc in a 
 clear voice, and carry his cane shouldered like a musket. At 
 breakfast, if he had been winning, his expression was cheerful 
 and almost affectionate ; he jested coarsely, still he jested, 
 with Madame Descoings, with Joseph, and his mother; if he 
 had lost, on the contrary, he was morose, his speech was curt 
 and sharp, his gaze hard, and his gloom quite alarming. 
 
 This life of debauchery and the habit of drink left their 
 mark day by day on the countenance that had once been so 
 handsome. The veins in his face were purple, his features 
 grew thick, his eyes lost their lashes and looked dry. And 
 then Philippe, careless of his person, carried with him the 
 miasma of smoke and spirits, and a smell of muddy boots, 
 which to a stranger would have seemed the last stamp of 
 squalor. 
 
 "You ought to have a complete new suit of clothes from 
 head to foot," said Madame Descoings to Philippe one day 
 earlv in December. 
 
 J 
 
 "And who is to pay for them?" said he bitterly. "My 
 poor mother has not a sou ; I have five hundred francs a year. 
 It would cost a year's pension to buy me an outfit, and I 
 have pledged it for three years to come " 
 
 "What for?" said Joseph. 
 
 "A debt of honor. Giroudeau borrowed a thousand francs 
 from Florentine to lend to me. I am not well gotten up, it must 
 be confessed ; but when you remember that Napoleon is at 
 St. Helena, and sells his plate to buy food, the soldiers that 
 remain faithful to him may very well walk in boot-tops," said 
 he, showing his boots without heels, and he walked off. 
 
 "He is not a bad fellow," said Agathe ; "he has good 
 feelings." 
 
 " He may love the Emperor and still keep himself clean," 
 said Joseph. "If he took some care of himself and hi? 
 clothes, he would look less like a tramp."
 
 74 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 "Joseph, you ought to be indulgent to your brother," said 
 Agathe. "You can do just what you like, while he certainly 
 is out of his place." 
 
 "And why did he leave it?" asked Joseph. "What 
 does it matter whether the flag shows Louis XVIII. 's bugs or 
 Napoleon's cockyoly bird if the bunting flies for France? 
 France is France ! I would paint for the devil. A soldier 
 ought to fight, if he is a soldier, for love of the art. If he 
 had stayed quietly in the army, by this time he would be a 
 general." 
 
 "You are unjust," said Agathe. "Your father, who 
 adored the Emperor, would have approved of what he did. 
 However, he agrees to rejoin the army. God alone knows 
 what it costs your brother to commit what he considers an 
 act of treason." 
 
 Joseph rose to go up to his studio ; but Agathe took his 
 hand, saying: 
 
 " Be good to your brother; he is so unfortunate." 
 
 When the artist entered his studio, followed by Madame 
 Descoings, who begged him to spare his mother's feelings, 
 remarking how much she was altered, and what acute mental 
 suffering this alteration betrayed, they found Philippe there, 
 to their great surprise. 
 
 " Joseph, my boy," said he in an airy way, " I am desper- 
 ately in want of money. By the piper ! I owe thirty francs 
 for cigars at the tobacconist's, and I dare not pass the cursed 
 store without paying. I have promised to pay at least ten 
 times." 
 
 "All right ! I like this way best," said Joseph. "Take it 
 out of the death's head." 
 
 " Oh, I took all that last night after dinner." 
 
 " There were forty-five francs " 
 
 " That is just what I made it," replied Philippe. " I found 
 them there. Was that wrong? " he asked. 
 
 "No, my dear fellow, no," said the artist. "If you were
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 75 
 
 rich, I should do as you do; only, before helping myself, I 
 should ask if it were convenient to you." 
 
 "It is very humiliating to have to ask," replied Philippe. 
 " I would sooner you should take it as I do, and say nothing. 
 It shows more confidence. In the army, when a comrade 
 dies, if he has a good pair of boots and you have a bad pair, 
 you exchange with him." 
 
 " Yes, but you don't take them while he is alive ! " 
 
 "A mere quibble ! " retorted Philippe with a shrug. "So 
 you have no money?" 
 
 " No," said Joseph, determined not to show his hoard. 
 
 " In a few days we shall all be rich," said the old woman. 
 
 " Oh yes ! You really believe that your three numbers 
 will come out on the 25th at the Paris drawing ! You must 
 put in a large stake if you mean to make us all rich." 
 
 " A natural ternion for two hundred francs will bring out 
 three millions, to say nothing of the doublets and the single 
 drawings." 
 
 "At fifteen thousand times the stake — yes, it is exactly two 
 hundred francs?" cried Philippe. 
 
 The old woman bit her lip ; she had dropped an imprudent 
 hint. 
 
 In fact, as he went downstairs, Philippe was asking himself: 
 
 "Where has that old witch hidden the money for her lot- 
 tery tickets ? It is sheer waste of money, and I could make 
 such good use of it ! On four stakes of fifty francs each I 
 might make two hundred thousand francs. And it is far 
 more certain than the drawing of three numbers in a lot- 
 tery! " 
 
 He wondered where Madame Descoings would be likely to 
 hide her hoard. 
 
 On the eve of the great church festivals, Agathe always 
 went to church and stayed there a long time, at confession no 
 doubt, and in preparing for communion. It was now Christ- 
 mas Eve. Madame Descoings would certainly go out to buy
 
 76 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 some extra treat for supper, but perhaps she would pay for her 
 ticket at the same time. The lottery was drawn every five 
 days, on the wheels, in turn, of Bordeaux, Lyons, Lille, 
 Strasbourg, and Paris. The Paris drawing took place on the 
 25th of each month ; the lists were closed at midnight on the 
 24th. The soldier studied the case, and zealously set himself 
 to watch. 
 
 At about noon Philippe came in. Madame Descoings had 
 gone out, but she had taken the door-key. This was no 
 difficulty. Philippe, saying that he had forgotten something, 
 begged the woman at the lodge to go to fetch a locksmith, 
 who lived close by in the Rue Guenegaud, and who opened 
 the door. Philippe's first idea was to search the bed ; he 
 unmade it, felt the mattresses before examining the frame, 
 and in the bottom mattress he felt the gold-pieces wrapped in 
 paper. He had soon unsewn the ticking and picked out 
 twenty napoleons ; then, without wasting time in sewing it 
 up again, he remade the bed neatly enough to prevent the 
 old woman's observing anything wrong. 
 
 The gambler made off on a light foot, intending to play 
 three times, at intervals of three hours, and for ten minutes 
 only each time. The great gamblers, ever since 1786, when 
 the gambling-houses were first opened, the formidable gam- 
 blers who were the terror of the bank, and who fairly ate 
 money at the tables, to use the familiar expression in such 
 places, never played by any other rule. But before achieving 
 this experience they lost fortunes. All the philosophy of 
 those who farmed the concern and all their profit was derived 
 from the rules ; from the non-liability of the bank ; from ties 
 called draws, of which half the winnings remained in its pos- 
 session ; and from the villainous fraud authorized by the state, 
 which made it optional to take or reject the players' stakes. 
 In a word, the bank, while refusing to play with a rich and 
 cool hand, devoured the whole fortune of any player who was 
 so persistently foolish as to allow himself to be intoxicated by
 
 PHILIPPE'S FIRST IDEA VJ AS TO SEARCH THE BED.
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 77 
 
 the rapid whirl of its machinery, for the dealers at trente-et- 
 quarante worked almost as fast as the roulette could. 
 
 Philippe had at last succeeded in acquiring that presence 
 of mind which enables a commander-in-chief to keep a keen 
 eye and a calm brain in the midst of the whirligig of things. 
 He had achieved those high politics of gambling which, it 
 may be said incidentally, enabled a thousand men in Paris to 
 look night after night into a gulf without turning giddy. 
 
 With these four hundred francs Philippe was determined to 
 make his fortune in the course of the day. He hid two hun- 
 dred francs in his boots, and kept two hundred in his pocket. 
 By three o'clock he was at the gambling-house, where the 
 Palais-Royal theatre now stands, where the bankers commonly 
 held the largest reserve. Half an hour later he came out, 
 having won seven thousand francs. He went to see Floren- 
 tine, paid her five hundred francs that he owed her, and 
 invited her to supper after the play at the Rocher de Cancale. 
 On his way back, he went through the Rue du Sentier to tell 
 his friend Giroudeau of the projected festivity. 
 
 At six o'clock Philippe had won twenty-five thousand francs, 
 and at the end of ten minutes kept his word to himself and 
 went away. In the evening, at ten, he had won seventy-five 
 thousand francs. After the supper, which was splendid, 
 Philippe, drunk and confident, returned to the tables at about 
 midnight. Then, against the rule he had made, he played 
 for an hour and doubled his winnings. The bank, from whom 
 his mode of play had wrung a hundred and fifty thousand 
 francs, watched him with curiosity. 
 
 "Will he go away or will he stay?" the men asked each 
 other by a glance. " If he stays, he is done for." 
 
 Philippe believed that luck was with him, and stayed. At 
 three in the morning the hundred and fifty thousand francs 
 had returned to the cash-box. 
 
 The colonel, who had drunk a good deal of grog while 
 playing, went out in a state of intoxication, which the nip-
 
 78 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 ping cold aggravated to the utmost ; but a waiter followed 
 him, picked him up, and carried him to one of the horrible 
 places where, inscribed on a lamp, the notice may be read, 
 "Beds by the night." The waiter paid for the ruined gam- 
 bler, who was laid on a bed in his clothes, and remained there 
 till Christmas night. The managers of the gambling-houses 
 treated regular customers and high players with respect. 
 
 Philippe did not wake till seven that evening, his mouth 
 furred, his face swelled, and racked with nervous fever. His 
 strong constitution enabled him to get on foot to his mother's 
 home, whither he had unwittingly brought sorrow, despair, 
 ruin, and death. 
 
 The day before, when dinner was ready, Madame Descoings 
 and Agathe waited two hours for Philippe. They did not sit 
 down till seven o'clock. Agathe almost always went to her 
 room at ten; but as she wished to attend midnight mass, she 
 went to lie down directly after dinner. The old aunt and 
 Joseph remained together in the little sitting-room which now 
 served all purposes, and she begged him to work out the sum 
 of her much-talked-of stake, her monster stake on the famous 
 ternion. She meant to t go for the double numbers and first 
 drawings, so as to combine all the chances. After smacking 
 her lips over the poetry of this masterstroke, and pouring out 
 both cornucopias at the feet of her adopted favorite; after 
 telling him all her dreams, proving that she could not fail to 
 win. wondering only how she should endure such good fortune, 
 or wait for it from midnight till ten next morning, Joseph, 
 who did not see where the four hundred francs were to come 
 from, mentioned the matter. The old woman smiled and led 
 him into the old drawing-room, now her bedroom. 
 
 " You will see ! " said she. 
 
 Madame Descoings hastily stripped her bed, and went for 
 her scissors to unstitch the mattress ; she put on her spectacles, 
 looked at the ticking, and found it unsewn. On hearing the
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 79 
 
 old woman heave a sigh that came from the depths of her 
 bosom, and seemed choked by the blood rushing to her heart, 
 Joseph instinctively held out his arms to the poor old lottery 
 gambler, and laid her senseless on a chair, calling his mother 
 to come. Agathe sprang up, put on her dressing-gown, and 
 hurried in ; by the light of a tallow candle she applied every 
 common remedy for a fainting fit — eau de cologne on her 
 aunt's temples, cold water on her forehead, burnt feathers 
 under her nose ; at last he saw her revive. 
 
 " They were there this morning ; he has taken them — that 
 wretch ! " 
 
 "What?" asked Joseph. 
 
 " I had twenty louis in my mattress, my savings for two 
 years. Only Philippe can have taken them " 
 
 "But when?" cried the mother, quite crushed; "he has 
 not been in since breakfast." 
 
 " I should be glad to be mistaken," said the old woman. 
 " But this morning, in Joseph's studio, when I spoke of my 
 stake in the lottery I had a warning. I was wrong not to go 
 down and take out my little lucky-penny and put it into the 
 lottery at once. I meant to do it, and I forget what hindered 
 me. Good God ! And I went to buy cigars for him ! " 
 
 " But," said Joseph, " our front-door was locked. Besides, 
 it is so vile that I will not believe it. Philippe watched you 
 out, unsewed your mattress, premeditated ! No." 
 
 " I felt them there this morning when I made my bed after 
 breakfast," said Madame Descoings. 
 
 Agathe, quite horror-stricken, went downstairs to ask whether 
 her son had come in during the day, and the doorkeeper told 
 her Philippe's fable. The mother, struck to the heart, came 
 up again completely altered. As white as her cotton shift, 
 she walked, as we fancy ghosts may walk, noiselessly, slowly, 
 as if by the impulse of a superhuman power, and yet almost 
 mechanically. She held a candle in her hand, which lighted 
 up her face and her eyes fixed in despair. Without knowing
 
 80 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 it, she had pushed her hair over her brow with her hands, and 
 this detail made her so beautiful in her horror that Joseph 
 stood riveted by this image of anguish, this vision of a statue 
 of terror and dejection. 
 
 "Aunt," said she, " take my spoons and forks; I have six 
 sets, that will make up the sum, for it was I who took it for 
 Philippe ; I thought I could replace it before you should find 
 it out. Oh ! I have suffered ! " 
 
 She sat down. Her dry fixed gaze wavered a little then. 
 
 "It is he who has done the trick," said Madame Descoings 
 in an undertone to Joseph. 
 
 "No, no," repeated Agathe. "Take the silver, sell it; 
 it is of no use to me ; we can use yours." 
 
 She went into her room, took up the plate-box, found it 
 very light, opened it, and saw a pawn ticket. The poor 
 mother gave a dreadful cry. Joseph and Madame Descoings 
 hastened in, glanced at the box, and the mother's heroic false- 
 hood was in vain. Thev all three stood silent, avoiding even 
 a glance. At that moment, with a gesture almost of madness, 
 Agathe laid her finger on her lips to seal the secret which no 
 one would divulge. Then all three went back to the sitting- 
 room fire. 
 
 " I tell you, my children, I am heart-broken," said Mad- 
 ame Descoings. " My numbers will be drawn, I am quite 
 positive ! I am not thinking of myself, but of you two ! 
 Philippe is a monster," she went on, turning to her niece. 
 " He does not love you, in spite of all you have done for him. 
 If you do not find some means to protect yourself, the wretch 
 will turn you into the street. Promise me to sell your stock, 
 realize the capital, and sink it in an annuity. By taking that 
 step you will never be a burden on Joseph. Monsieur Des- 
 roches wants to set up his son in an office, and the boy" (he 
 was now six-and-twenty) " has found one. He will take your 
 twelve thousand francs and pay you an annuity." 
 
 Joseph seized his mother's candlestick and hurried up to
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 81 
 
 the studio ; after a very brief absence he came down with 
 three hundred francs in his hands. 
 
 " Here, Maman Descoings," said he, offering her his little 
 hoard, " it is no business of ours to inquire what you do with 
 your money; we owe you what is missing, and here it is — 
 almost all of it." 
 
 " I ! — take your little treasure, the result of your privations, 
 which distress me so much ! Are you mad, Joseph?" cried 
 the old woman, evidently torn by her stupid belief in the 
 luck of her numbers in the state lottery, and what seemed to 
 her the sacrilege of such a proceeding. 
 
 " Oh ! do what you will with it," said Agathe, moved to 
 tears by this action of her true son. 
 
 Madame Descoings took Joseph's head in her hands and 
 kissed his forehead. 
 
 " My child, do not tempt me," she said ; " I should only 
 lose it. The lottery is a fool's game ! " 
 
 Never was anything so heroically said in any of the obscure 
 dramas of private life. Was it not, in fact, the triumph of 
 affection over an inveterate vice ? 
 
 At this minute the bells began to toll for midnight mass. 
 
 " Besides, it is too late," added the old woman. 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Joseph ; " here are your cabalistic calcula- 
 tions." 
 
 The magnanimous artist seized the tickets, flew downstairs, 
 and away to pay the stake. When he was gone, Agathe and 
 Madame Descoings melted into tears. 
 
 " He is gone ! " exclaimed the old gambler. " But it will 
 all be his, for it is his money." 
 
 Joseph, unluckily, did not in the least know where to find 
 the lottery ticket offices, which those who frequented them 
 knew as well in Paris as, in these days, smokers know the 
 tobacco shops. The painter rushed wildly on, looking at the 
 lamp signs. When he asked some one he met to tell him 
 where there was a lottery office, he was told that they were 
 6
 
 82 -A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 closed, but that one by the steps of the Palais Royal some- 
 times remained open a little later. The artist flew to the 
 Palais Royal ; the office was shut. 
 
 " Two minutes sooner and you could have paid in your 
 stake," said one of the ticket-criers who stood at the bottom 
 of the steps, shouting these strange words, "Twelve hun- 
 dred francs for forty sous!" and selling ready numbered 
 tickets. 
 
 By the glimmer of a street lamp and the lights in the 
 Cafe de la Rotonde, Joseph examined these tickets to see 
 whether by chance either of them bore Madame Descoings' 
 pet numbers ; but he could not find one, and returned home 
 in grief at having done in vain all that lay in his power to 
 please the old woman, to whom he related his disappoint- 
 ments. 
 
 Agathe and her aunt went off to mass at Saint-Germain- 
 des-Pres. Joseph went to bed. No one kept Christmas Eve. 
 Madame Descoings had lost her head ; Agathe's heart was 
 for ever broken. 
 
 The two women rose late. Ten o'clock was striking when 
 Madame Descoings bestirred herself to get breakfast, which 
 was not ready till half-past eleven. By that time the long 
 frames hanging outside the lottery ticket offices showed an 
 array of figures. If Madame Descoings had had her ticket, 
 she would have gone by half-past nine o'clock to the Rue 
 Neuve des Petits Champs to learn her fate, which was decided 
 in a house next door to the offices of the minister of finance, 
 on a spot now occupied by the square and the Ventadour 
 theatre. 
 
 Every time the lottery was drawn, the curious could see at 
 the door of this building a posse of old women, cooks, and 
 old men, who at that time constituted as strange a spectacle 
 as that of the stockholders forming a queue on the day when 
 dividends are paid at the treasury. 
 
 " Well, so you are rolling in riches ! " exclaimed old Des-
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 83 
 
 roches, coming in just as Madame Descoings was swallowing 
 her last mouthful of coffee. 
 
 "How?" cried poor Agathe. 
 
 " Her three numbers have come out," said he, holding 
 out a list of numbers written on a scrap of paper, such as 
 office clerks kept by the hundred in the paper-tray on their 
 desks. 
 
 Joseph read the list. Agathe read the list. Madame 
 Descoings read nothing. She fell back as if strfcken by 
 lightning; seeing her face change and hearing her cry, old 
 Desroches and Joseph carried her to her bed. Agathe went 
 for a doctor. The poor woman had fallen in a fit of apo- 
 plexy, and she did not recover consciousness until about four 
 in the afternoon. Old Doctor Haudry, her physician, pro- 
 nounced that, notwithstanding this amelioration, she would 
 do well to settle her affairs and think of her religious duties. 
 She had uttered but two words, " Three millions ! " 
 
 Old Desroches, to whom Joseph explained the circum- 
 stances with the necessary reservations, spoke of numbers 
 of lottery gamblers who had in the same way missed a for- 
 tune on the day when by some fatality they had failed to pay 
 up their stakes ; still, he understood how mortal a blow this 
 must be after twenty years of perseverance. 
 
 At five o'clock, when perfect silence reigned in the little 
 dwelling, and when the dying woman, watched by Joseph at 
 the foot of her bed, and Agathe at her pillow, was expecting 
 her grandson, whom Desroches had gone to seek, the sound 
 of Philippe's step and walking-stick echoed on the stairs. 
 
 "There he is, there he is!" cried Madame Descoings, 
 sitting up in bed, and suddenly recovering the use of her 
 paralyzed tongue. 
 
 Agathe and Joseph were impressed by the impulse of horror 
 which so vehemently roused the sick woman. Their miser- 
 able expectations were wholly justified by Philippe's appear- 
 ance : by his purple, vacant face, his uncertain gait, and the
 
 84 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 horrible look of his eyes with deep red rims, glazed and yet 
 wild-looking ; he was shivering violently with fever, and his 
 teeth chattered. 
 
 " What the devil ! " he exclaimed. " Neither bit nor sup, 
 and my throat is on fire. Well, what's up now? The foul 
 fiend puts his hoof in all that concerns us. My old Desco- 
 ings in bed, and making eyes at me as big as saucers " 
 
 " Be silent, sir," said Agathe, rising. " At least you may 
 respect the misery you have caused." 
 
 "Hallo! Sir?" said he, looking at his mother. "My 
 dear little mother, that is not kind ; do you no longer love 
 your boy? " 
 
 " Are you worthy to be loved? Have you forgotten what 
 you did yesterday ? You may look out for a lodging for 
 yourself; you shall no longer live with me. From to- 
 morrow," she added, "for in such a state as you are in it 
 would be difficult " 
 
 "To turn me out? So you are going to play the melo- 
 drama of the Banished Son?" he went on. "Dear, dear! 
 Is that how you take it ? Well, you are all a pretty pack of 
 owls ! What harm have I done ? Cleaned out the old 
 woman's mattress for her. We don't keep money in wool, 
 deuce take it. And where is the crime ? Did she not take 
 twenty thousand francs, I should like to know? Are we not 
 her creditors? I have taken so much on account ; that's all." 
 
 " Oh, God ! oh, God ! " cried the dying woman, clasping 
 her hands in prayer. 
 
 " Hold your tongue ! " said Joseph, rushing at his brother 
 and clapping his hand over his mouth. 
 
 "Right about face, half turn to the left, you dirty little 
 painter!" replied Philippe, laying his heavy hand on 
 Joseph's shoulder, turning him round, and landing him in an 
 armchair. "That is not the way to meddle with the mus- 
 tache of a major of dragoons of the Imperial Guard." 
 
 " She has repaid me all she owed me," cried Agathe, rising
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 85 
 
 and turning an angry face to her son. "Besides, that is 
 nobody's business but mine. You are killing her. Go," 
 she added with a gesture that exhausted all her force, " and 
 never let me see you again. You are a villain ! " 
 
 "I am killing her?" 
 
 "Yes; her numbers were drawn in the lottery, and you 
 stole the money she would have staked." 
 
 " Oh, if she is dying of a lost chance, then it is not I who 
 am killing her," retorted the drunkard. 
 
 "Go, I say," said Agathe ; "you fill me with horror. 
 You have every vice ! Good God ! and is this my son ? " 
 
 A hollow croak from Madame Descoings' throat had aggra- 
 vated Agathe's wrath. 
 
 " And yet I still love you, mother, though you are the 
 cause of all my misfortunes," said Philippe. " And you can 
 turn me out of doors on a Christmas Day, the birthday of 
 What d'ye call him — Jesus ! What did you do to grandpapa 
 Rouget, your father, that he turned you out and disinherited 
 you ? If you had not offended him in some way, we should 
 have been rich, and I should not have been reduced to the 
 depths of misery. What did you do to your father, I should 
 like to know, you who are so good ? You see, I may be a 
 very good boy, and be turned out of doors nevertheless — I, 
 the glory of the family " 
 
 " Its disgrace ! " cried Madame Descoings. 
 
 " Leave the room, or kill me!" cried Joseph, rushing on 
 his brother with the fury of a lion. 
 i " Good God ! good God ! " cried Agathe, trying to sepa- 
 rate the brothers. 
 
 At this moment Bixiou and Doctor Haudry came in. 
 Joseph had knocked down his brother, and Philippe was 
 lying on the floor. 
 
 " He is a perfect wild beast ! " he said. " Not a word, or 
 I'll " 
 
 "I will remember this," bellowed Philippe.
 
 86 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 -■ A little family difference? " said Bixiou. 
 
 "Pick him up," said the physician; "he is as ill as the 
 old lady ; undress him, put him to bed, and pull his boots 
 off." 
 
 "That is easily said," observed Bixiou. "But they must 
 be cut off: his legs are swelled " 
 
 Agathe brought a pair of scissors. When she had slit the 
 boots, which at that time were worn outside of tight-fitting 
 trousers, ten gold-pieces rolled out on to the floor. 
 
 "There — there is her money," muttered Philippe. 
 "Blasted idiot that I am, I forgot the reserve fund ! So I 
 too missed fire ! " 
 
 The delirium of high fever now came upon Philippe, who 
 began to talk wildly. Joseph, with the help of the elder 
 Desroches, who came in presently, and of Bixiou, got the 
 wretched man up to his own room. Doctor Haudry was 
 obliged to write a line begging the loan of a strait-waistcoat 
 from the hospital, for his mania increased to such a pitch that 
 they feared he might kill himself — he was like a madman. 
 
 By nine o'clock peace was restored. The Abbe Loraux and 
 Desroches did what they could to comfort Agathe, who sat by 
 her aunt's pillow, and never ceased crying; but she only 
 listened and shook her head, preserving obstinate silence; 
 only Joseph and Madame Descoings knew the depth and 
 extent of the inward wound. 
 
 " He will do better, mother," said Joseph at last, when 
 Desroches and Bixiou were gone. 
 
 " Oh ! " cried the poor woman, " but he is right. Philippe 
 
 is right ! My father cursed me ; I have no right Here 
 
 is the money," she went on to Madame Descoings, adding 
 Joseph's three hundred francs to the two hundred found in 
 Philippe's possession. " Go and see if your brother wants 
 something to drink," she said to Joseph. 
 
 "Will you keep a promise made to a dying woman?" 
 asked the old woman, feeling that her mind was going.
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 87 
 
 "Yes, aunt." 
 
 " Then swear to me to hand over your money to that young 
 Desroches for an annuity. You will miss my little income, 
 and from all I hear you say I know you will let that wretch 
 squeeze you to the last sou " 
 
 "Aunt, I swear it." 
 
 The old woman died on the 31st of December, five days 
 after the fatal blow so innocently dealt her by the elder Des- 
 roches. The five hundred francs, all the money there was in 
 the house, barely sufficed to pay the expenses of her funeral. 
 She left a very little plate and furniture, of which Madame 
 Bridau paid the value to her grandson. 
 
 Reduced now to eight hundred francs a year, the annuity 
 paid her by the younger Desroches — who concluded the 
 purchase of a business, at present without clients, and took 
 her twelve thousand francs as capital. Agathe gave up her 
 rooms on the third floor and sold all but the most necessary 
 furniture. When, at the end of a month, Philippe was con- 
 valescent, his mother coldly explained to him that the 
 expenses of his illness had absorbed all her ready money ; 
 henceforth she must work for her living, and she entreated 
 him in the most affectionate manner to rejoin the army and 
 provide for himself. 
 
 " You might have saved yourself your sermon," said Phil- 
 ippe, looking at his mother with eyes cold from utter indiffer- 
 ence. "I have very clearly seen that neither you nor my 
 brother love me in the least. I am alone in the world now ! 
 Well, I prefer it so." 
 
 " Prove yourself worthy to be loved," replied the poor 
 mother, wounded to the quick, "and we shall love you 
 
 again." 
 
 " Fiddlesticks ! " said he, interrupting her. 
 He took his old hat, all worn at the edges, and his stick, 
 stuck the hat over his ear, and went downstairs whistling. 
 "Philippe! where are you off to without any money?"
 
 8S A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 cried his mother, who could not restrain her tears. " Here 
 take " 
 
 She held out a hundred francs done up in paper. Philippe 
 came up the steps he had gone down and took the money. 
 
 " And you do not kiss me? " said she, melting into tears. 
 
 He clasped her to his breast, without any of the effusive 
 feeling which alone gives value to a kiss. 
 
 "And where are you going?" said Agathe. 
 
 "To Florentine, Giroudeau's mistress. They really are 
 friends ! " he replied coarsely. 
 
 He went. Agathe returned to her room, her knees quaking, 
 her eyes dim, her heart in a vise. She fell on her knees, be- 
 sought God to protect her unnatural son, and abdicated the 
 burthen of motherhood. 
 
 In February, 1S22, Madame Bridau had established herself 
 in the bedroom formerly occupied by Philippe, over the 
 kitchen of her third-floor rooms. The painter's bedroom and 
 studio were on the opposite side of the landing. Seeing his 
 mother reduced so low, Joseph was determined that she should 
 be as comfortable as possible. After his brother had left he 
 took the arrangement of the attic in hand, and gave it an 
 artistic stamp. He put in a carpet ; the bed, very simply 
 arranged, but with exquisite taste, had a character of monastic 
 simplicity. The walls, hung with cheap chintz, judiciously 
 chosen of a color to harmonize with the furniture, which was 
 cleaned to look like new, made the little room look neat and 
 elegant. He had a door made to shut in the landing, and 
 hung it with a curtain. The window was screened by a blind 
 that subdued the light. Thus, though the poor mother's life 
 was restricted to the simplest expression which a woman's 
 life in Paris can be reduced to, Agathe was at any rate better 
 off than anybody in a similar position, thanks to her son. 
 
 To spare his mother the worst fatigues of housekeeping, 
 Joseph took her to dine every day at a table if hot e in the Rue
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 89 
 
 de Beaune, frequented by ladies of respectability, deputies, 
 and men of title, where the charge for each person was ninety 
 francs a month. Agathe, having only the breakfast to pro- 
 vide, fell into the same habits for her son as she had kept up 
 for his father. In spite of Joseph's pious fibs, she somehow 
 found out that her dinner cost about a hundred francs a month. 
 Horrified by this enormous expenditure, and never supposing 
 that her son could earn much by " painting naked women," 
 by the influence of her director, the Abbe Loraux, she ob- 
 tained the promise of a place with seven hundred francs a 
 year, in a lottery ticket office granted by the government to 
 the Comtesse de Bauvan, the widow of a Chouan leader. 
 
 These lottery offices, bestowed on widows who had friends 
 at court, not unfrequently were the whole support of a family 
 who managed the business of it. But, under the Restoration, 
 the difficulty of finding rewards in the gift of a constitutional 
 government for all the services that had been done, led to the 
 practice of giving to impoverished ladies of rank not one but 
 two such lottery ticket offices, of which the emoluments 
 might be from six to ten thousand francs. In such cases the 
 widow of a general or a nobleman did not keep the ticket 
 office herself; she had managers with a sort of partnership. 
 When these managers were unmarried men they could not 
 help having a clerk under them, for the office always had to 
 be kept open till midnight, and the accounts required by the 
 minister of finance were very elaborate. 
 
 The Comtesse de Bauvan, to whom the Abbe Loraux ex- 
 plained Madame Bridau's position, promised that if her present 
 manager should leave, Agathe should have the reversion ; mean- 
 while she bargained for a salary of six hundred francs for the 
 widow. Compelled to be at her work by ten in the morn- 
 ing, poor Agathe had scarcely time to dine ; she returned to 
 her office at seven in the evening, and never stirred out again 
 before midnight. Never once for two years did Joseph fail 
 to call for his mother and take her home, and he often escorted
 
 90 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 her to dinner. His friends would see him leave the opera, 
 the Italiens, or the most splendid drawing-rooms, to be in the 
 Rue Vivienne before midnight. 
 
 Agathe soon fell into the monotonously regular way of life, 
 which often is a comfort and support to sorrow-stricken souls. 
 In the morning, after tidying her room, where there were now 
 no cats or little birds, she cooked the breakfast at a corner of 
 her fireplace, and laid it in the studio, where she ate it with 
 her son. She then arranged Joseph's bedroom, took off her 
 fire, and brought her sewing into the studio, sitting by the 
 little stove, and leaving the room if he had a visitor or a 
 model. Though she knew nothing of art or its processes, 
 she liked the stillness of the place, la this matter she made 
 no advance ; she affected nothing ; she was always greatly 
 astonished at the importance attached to color, composition, 
 and drawing. When one of the members of Joseph's little 
 club, or one of his artist friends, was discussing such matters 
 — Schinner, Pierre Grassou, or Leon de Lora, a very young 
 student then known by the name of Mistigris — she would 
 come and look on attentively, and never discover what could 
 give occasion to such big words and hot arguments. 
 
 She made her son's linen, mended his stockings and socks; 
 she even went so far as to clean his palette, collect his paint- 
 ing-rags, and keep the studio in order. And seeing his mother 
 so intelligently careful of these little details, Joseph loaded 
 her with kindness. If the mother and son did not meet half- 
 way on questions of art, they were nevertheless closely united 
 by affection. 
 
 The mother had a scheme. One morning when she had 
 made much of Joseph while he was sketching an enormous 
 picture — which he subsequently painted, but which fell flat — 
 she ventured to say aloud — 
 
 " Oh, dear ! I wonder what he is doing?" 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 "Philippe."
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 91 
 
 " By Jove ! the fellow is having a hard time. It will do 
 him good." 
 
 "But he has had hard times before, and perhaps that was 
 what spoilt him for us. If he were happy, he would be good." 
 
 "My dear mother, you fancy that he was in distress while 
 he was away, but you are mistaken ; he lived at his ease in 
 New York, as he still does here " 
 
 "But if he were in want, near us, that would be dread- 
 ful " 
 
 "Yes," said Joseph; "and for my part, I am willing to 
 give him money, but I will not see him. He killed poor 
 Aunt Descoings." 
 
 " Then you would not paint his portrait ? " 
 
 " For you, mother, I would suffer martyrdom. I would 
 remember only the one fact that he is my brother." 
 
 " His portrait as a captain of dragoons, on horseback ? " 
 
 " Well, I have a fine horse there, copied from Gros, and I 
 do not know what to do with it." 
 
 " Then go to his friend and find out what has become of 
 him." 
 
 "I will." 
 
 Agathe rose; her scissors, everything fell on the floor; she 
 came to kiss Joseph on his forehead and shed two tears on his 
 hair. 
 
 "That boy is your passion," said he. "We all have our 
 ill-starred passion ! " 
 
 That evening Joseph went to the Rue du Sentier at about 
 four o'clock, and there he found his brother, filling Girou- 
 deau's place. The elder captain of dragoons had been 
 transferred as cashier to a weekly paper managed by his 
 nephew. Though Finot was still proprietor of the little daily 
 paper for which he had issued shares, though the shares were 
 all in his own hands, the ostensible owner and editor was a 
 friend of his named Lousteau, the son, as it happened, of 
 the sub-delegate from Issoudun, on whom Bridau's grand-
 
 92 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 father (Doctor Rouget) had wanted to be revenged, and 
 consequently Madame Hochon's nephew. 
 
 To oblige his uncle, Finot had given him Philippe as 
 deputy, paying him, however, only half the salary. Every 
 day at five o'clock Giroudeau checked the balance and carried 
 off the money taken during the day. Coloquinte, the old 
 soldier who served as messenger and who ran the errands, 
 also kept an eye on Major Philippe. Philippe, however, was 
 behaving himself. A salary of six hundred francs and a 
 pension of five hundred were enough for him to live on, all 
 the more because a fire was provided for him during the day, 
 and in the evenings he could go to the play on the free list, so 
 he had nothing to pay for but food and lodging. Coloquinte 
 was going out, loaded with stamped papers, and Philippe was 
 engaged in brushing his green linen office cuffs, when Joseph 
 walked in. 
 
 "Lord! Here is the kid," said Philippe. "Well, we 
 will dine together ; you shall come to the opera, Florine and 
 Florentine have a box. I am going with Giroudeau; you 
 will be of the party, and I will introduce you to Nathan." 
 
 He took up his loaded cane, and wetted the end of a 
 cigar. 
 
 " I cannot avail myself of your invitation ; I must look 
 after my mother. We dine at a table d'hote." 
 
 "Well, and how is she, poor dear thing?" 
 
 "She is pretty well," said the painter. " I have made a 
 new portrait of my father and one of Aunt Descoings. I 
 have finished one of myself, and I should like to give my 
 mother one of you in the uniform of the Imperial Dragoon 
 Guards." 
 
 "All right." 
 
 " But you must come and sit " 
 
 " I am obliged to be here, in this hen-coop, everyday from 
 nine till five." 
 
 "Two Sundays will be enough."
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 93 
 
 "All right, young 'un," replied Napoleon's erewhile staff- 
 officer, as he lighted his cigar at the porter's lamp. 
 
 When Joseph described Philippe's position to his mother, as 
 they went together to their dinner in the Rue de Beaune, he felt 
 her hand tremble on his arm ; joy lighted up the faded face ; 
 the poor woman drew breath as though she had been relieved 
 of some enormous burden. Next day she was full of little 
 attentions for Joseph, prompted by her happiness and grati- 
 tude ; she dressed his studio with flowers, and bought two 
 vases. 
 
 The first Sunday when Philippe was to sit, Agathe took 
 care to provide an excellent breakfast. She placed everything 
 on the table, not forgetting a flask of brandy, not more than 
 half full. She then hid herself behind a screen, in which 
 she made a small hole. The ex-dragoon had sent his uniform 
 the day before, and she could not refrain from hugging it. 
 When Philippe mounted, in full dress, on one of the stuffed 
 horses kept by saddlers, which Joseph had hired, Agathe, not 
 to betray herself, was obliged to hide the slight noise of 
 her weeping under the voices of the two brothers as they 
 talked. 
 
 Philippe sat for two hours before and two hours after 
 breakfast. At three in the afternoon he put on his ordinary 
 dress, and, while smoking a cigar, again invited his brother 
 to dine with him at the Palais Royal. He jingled the gold 
 in his pockets. 
 
 "No," said Joseph. "You frighten me when I see you 
 with gold about you." 
 
 "By heaven! Then you still have a bad opinion of me 
 here?" roared the lieutenant-colonel in a voice of thunder. 
 " Do you think a man can never save ? " 
 
 " No, no," said Agathe, coming out of her hiding-place, 
 and kissing her son. "We will go and dine with him, 
 Joseph." 
 
 Joseph dared not scold his mother ; he dressed, and Phil-
 
 94 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 ippe took them to the Rue Montorgueuil, where, at the 
 Rocher de Cancale, he gave them a splendid dinner, for 
 which the bill ran up to a hundred francs. 
 
 " The devil ! " said Joseph uneasily. " With a salary of 
 eleven hundred francs a year you manage, like Ponchard in 
 the 'Dame Blanche,' to save enough to purchase an estate! " 
 
 " Pooh, I am in luck," said the dragoon, who had drunk 
 an enormous quantity of wine. 
 
 On hearing this speech, made on the doorstep just as they 
 were getting into a hackney coach to go to the play — for 
 Philippe had proposed to take his mother to the circus, the 
 only entertainment of the kind allowed her by her director — 
 Joseph tightened his hand on his mother's arm. Agathe at 
 once said she felt unwell, and declined to go to the theatre, 
 so Philippe took her and his brother to the Rue Mazarine. 
 When she found herself alone with Joseph in their attic, she 
 sat long lost in thought. 
 
 On the next Sunday Philippe came again to sit. This 
 time his mother sat in the room with the brothers. She 
 brought in the breakfast, and could ask the trooper various 
 questions. She then learned that the nephew of her mother's 
 old friend, Madame Hochon, figured in a small way in litera- 
 ture. Philippe and his ally, Giroudeau, lived in the society 
 of journalists, actresses, and publishers, and, as cashiers, met 
 with some respect. Philippe, who always took drams of 
 kirsch while sitting after breakfast, talked freely. He boasted 
 of becoming a person of importance again ere long. But at 
 a question from Joseph as to his pecuniary means he kept 
 silence. 
 
 As it happened, the next day was a great holiday, and the 
 paper was not to come out, so Philippe, to get the thing done 
 with, proposed to come and sit again on the morrow. Joseph 
 explained to him that the Salon would open before long, that 
 he had not money enough to buy frames for his pictures, and 
 could only earn it by finishing a copy of a Rubens required
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 95 
 
 by a picture-dealer named Magus. The original belonged to 
 a rich Swiss banker, who had loaned it only for ten days. 
 Next day would be the last ; it was therefore absolutely neces- 
 sary to put off the sitting till t*he following Sunday. 
 
 " And is that it ? " said Philippe, looking at a painting by 
 Rubens that stood on an easel. 
 
 "Yes," said Joseph. "That is worth twenty thousand 
 francs. That is what genius can do. There are such squares 
 of canvas that are worth a hundred thousand francs." 
 
 "Well, I like your copy best," said the dragoon. 
 
 "It is fresher," said Joseph, laughing; "but my copy is 
 only worth one thousand francs. I must have to-morrow to 
 give the old tone and look of the original, that they may be 
 indistinguishable." 
 
 "Good-by, mother," said Philippe, embracing Agathe, 
 " till next Sunday." 
 
 On the following day Elie Magus was to come for his copy. 
 A friend of Joseph's, who often worked for the dealer, Pierre 
 Grassou, wished to see the copy finished. To play him a 
 trick, Joseph put his copy, glazed with a particular varnish, 
 in the place of the original, which he set up on his easel. 
 Pierre Grassou de Fougeres was completely taken in and 
 amazed at this extraordinary imitation. 
 
 " Will you take in old Magus? " said Pierre Grassou. 
 
 "That remains to be seen," said Joseph. 
 
 But the dealer did not come, and it was late. Agathe was 
 to dine with Madame Desroches, who had just lost her hus- 
 band ; so Joseph proposed to Grassou to come and dine at 
 his table d'hote. On going out he left the key of the studio, 
 as he always did, with the woman who kept the house-door. 
 
 "I am going to sit to my brother this evening," said 
 Philippe to this woman an hour later. " He will be in pres- 
 ently, and I will wait for him in the studio." 
 
 The woman gave him the key. Philippe went up, took the 
 copy, thinking it was the original, came down, gave back the
 
 96 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 key, explaining that he had forgotten something, and went 
 off with the Rubens to sell it for three thousand francs. He 
 had taken the precaution of telling Elie Magus, from his 
 brother, not to call till the next day. At night, when Joseph 
 came in after bringing his mother from Madame Desroches', 
 the porter told him of Philippe's vagaries, coming away almost 
 as soon as he had gone in. 
 
 " If he has not had the good taste to take the copy, I am a 
 ruined man ! " exclaimed the painter, at once guessing the 
 theft. He flew up the three flights of stairs and into the 
 studio, and exclaimed, "Thank God ! He has been what he 
 will be to the end — a fool and a knave." 
 
 Agathe, who had followed Joseph, did not understand this 
 exclamation ; but when her son explained it, she simply stood 
 still, dry-eyed. 
 
 " I have but one son ! " she said in a weak voice. 
 
 " We have always avoided disgracing him before strangers," 
 replied Joseph. " But we must now tell the porter he is never 
 to be admitted. Henceforth we must carry our keys. I will 
 finish the portrait from memory, there is little to be done to 
 it." 
 
 "Leave it as it is; it would make me too unhappy," re- 
 plied his mother, stricken to the heart, and appalled by such 
 meanness. 
 
 Philippe knew what the price of this copy was needed for, 
 knew the gulf of difficulty into which he was flinging his 
 brother, and nothing had deterred him. After this last crime, 
 Agathe would never mention Philippe ; her face assumed a 
 look of bitter, deep, and concentrated despair. One thought 
 was killing her. 
 
 "Some day," she said to herself, "we shall see the name 
 of Bridau in the criminal courts." 
 
 Two months after this, just before Agathe entered on her 
 duties at the lottery office, a soldier called one morning to
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 97 
 
 see Madame Bridau, who was at breakfast with Joseph, an- 
 nouncing himself as a friend of Philippe's on urgent business. 
 
 When Giroudeau mentioned his name the mother and son 
 quailed, all the more because the ex-dragoon had a rough, 
 weather-beaten sailor's countenance that was anything rather 
 than reassuring. His ashy gray eyes, his piebald mustache, 
 the remaining tufts of hair brushed up round his butter-colored 
 bald head, had an indescribably unwholesome and licentious 
 look. He wore an old iron-gray overcoat, with the rosette 
 of an officer of the Legion of Honor ; it was buttoned with 
 difficulty over a stomach like a cook's, quite in keeping with 
 a mouth that opened from ear to ear, and broad shoulders. 
 This frame was carried on a pair of thin legs. His complex- 
 ion, with the high color on the cheek-bones, betrayed a jovial 
 life. The lower part of his cheeks was deeply wrinkled and 
 overlapped his worn black velvet collar. Among other decora- 
 tive touches, the ex-dragoon had in his ears an enormous pair 
 of gold earrings. 
 
 " What a sot ! " said Joseph to himself. 
 
 " Madame," said Finot's uncle and cashier, " your son is 
 in such an unfortunate predicament that his friends cannot 
 help applying to you to beg you to share the very considerable 
 expenses he involves them in. He can no longer do his work 
 for the paper ; and Mademoiselle Florentine of the Porte 
 Saint-Martin has given him a room in a miserable attic in the 
 Rue Vendome, where she lives. Philippe is dying ; if you 
 and his brother cannot pay for the doctor and the medicine, 
 we shall be obliged, for his own sake and cure, to have him 
 taken to the Capucins. But we will keep him ourselves for 
 three hundred francs ; he must positively have a nurse ; he 
 goes out in the evening while Mademoiselle Florentine is at 
 the theatre, and he takes irritant drinks, bad for his malady, 
 and contrary to rule. And we are attached to him ; it really 
 makes us unhappy. The poor fellow has pledged his pension 
 for three years j a substitute has been found for the moment 
 7
 
 98 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 to fill his place, and he gets no pay. But he will kill himself, 
 madame, if we cannot put him in the asylum kept by Doctor 
 Dubois. It is a decent place, and the charge is ten francs a 
 day. Florentine and I will pay for half a month's treatment 
 
 there, do you pay the rest Come, it will not be for 
 
 more than two months." 
 
 " Indeed, monsieur, as a mother I cannot but be eternally 
 grateful for all you are doing for my son," replied Agathe. 
 " But that son has cut himself off from my affection ; and as 
 for money — I have none. To avoid being a burden on this 
 son, who works night and day, and is killing himself, who 
 deserves all his mother's love, I am going, the day after to- 
 morrow, into a lottery ticket office as assistant clerk. At 
 my age ! " 
 
 "And you, young man?" said the trooper to Joseph. 
 " Come, will you not do as much for your brother as a dancer 
 at the Porte Saint-Martin and an old soldier ? " 
 
 "Look here!" said Joseph, out of patience. "Would 
 you like me to tell you in the plainest language what was the 
 purpose of your visit ? You came to try to fleece us ? " 
 
 " Well, then, to-morrow your brother will go to the 
 hospital." 
 
 " He will be very well looked after," said Joseph. " If 
 ever I should be in the same plight, I should go there myself." 
 
 Giroudeau went away, much disappointed, but also very 
 seriously grieved at having to send a man who had been on 
 Napoleon's staff at the battle of Montereau to the hospital of 
 the Capucins. 
 
 Three months after this, one morning towards the end of 
 July, Agathe, on her way to her office, crossing the Pont 
 Neuf to save the toll of a sou on the Pont des Arts, saw a 
 man lounging by the shops of the Quai de l'Ecole as she 
 walked along by the river parapet. He wore the livery of the 
 second degree of poverty, and she was startled, for she 
 thought he resembled Philippe.
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 99 
 
 There are, in fact, three degrees of poverty in Paris. 
 First, that of the men who keep up appearances, and who 
 have the future before them ; the poverty of young men, 
 artists, men of the world who are down on their luck. The 
 symptoms of this kind of want are visible only to the micro- 
 scope of the most practiced observer. These people consti- 
 tute the knighthood of poverty ; they still ride in a cab. In 
 the second rank are old men, to whom everything is a matter 
 of indifference, who, in the month of June, display the cross 
 of the Legion of Honor on an alpaca coat. This is the pov- 
 erty of old annuitants, old clerks living at Sainte-Perine, 
 careless now about their appearance. Last comes poverty in 
 rags, the poverty of the common people, and the most poet- 
 ical of all ; studied by Callot and Hogarth, by Murillo, 
 Charlet, Raffet, Gavarni, Meissonier ; adored and cultivated 
 by art, especially at the carnival ! 
 
 The man in whom the unhappy Agathe fancied she recog- 
 nized her son had, as it were, one foot on each of these two 
 lowest steps. She saw a horribly starchless collar, a mangy 
 hat, broken and patched boots, a threadbare overcoat with 
 buttons that had lost their mould, while their empty gaping 
 or twisted skins matched the torn pockets and greasy collar. 
 Traces of flue on the cloth plainly revealed that if there were 
 anything in those pockets, it could only be dust. Out of a 
 pair of ripped iron-gray trousers the man drew hands as dirty 
 as a workman's. Over his breast a knitted woolen undervest, 
 tawny with long wear, of which the sleeves came below those 
 of the coat, and the edge was pulled outside the trousers, 
 served visibly and undoubtedly as a substitute for linen. 
 Philippe wore a shade over his eyes of green silk stretched on 
 wire. His head, almost bald, his color, and hollow cheeks 
 showed that he had just come out of that dreadful hospital. 
 
 His blue military coat, though white at the seams, still dis- 
 played his rosette. Thus every passer-by looked at this 
 veteran, a victim of the government no doubt, with curiosity,
 
 100 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 mingled with pity ; for the rosette attracted the eye, and sug- 
 gested honorable fears for the Legion of Honor, even in the 
 most rabid ultras. At that time, though an attempt had been 
 made to cast a slur on the order by reckless promotions, not 
 more than fifty-three thousand persons in France had the 
 right to display it. 
 
 Agathe was thrilled to the marrow. Though she could not 
 possibly love this son of hers, she still could suffer acutely 
 through him. Touched by a last gleam of motherly feeling, 
 she shed tears as she saw the dashing staff-officer make as 
 though he would go into a tobacconist's to buy a cigar, and 
 stop on the threshold ; he had felt in his pockets and found 
 nothing. Agathe hastily crossed the road, drew out her 
 purse, pushed it into Philippe's hand, and fled as if she had 
 committed a crime. 
 
 For two days after she could eat nothing ; she constantly 
 saw before her the horrible vision of her son dying of hunger 
 in Paris. 
 
 "When he has spent the money in my purse, who will 
 give him any ! " thought she. " Giroudeau was not deceiv- 
 ing us ; Philippe has just come out of the hospital." 
 
 She no longer saw her poor aunt's murderer, the scourge 
 of the family, the domestic thief, the gambler, drunkard, low 
 debauchee ; what she saw was a discharged patient dying of 
 hunger, a smoker bereft of tobacco. At seven-and-forty she 
 looked like a woman of seventy. Her eyes grew dim in tears 
 and prayer. 
 
 But this was not the last blow to be dealt her by this 
 dreadful son ; her worst anticipations were to be realized. A 
 conspiracy was discovered of officers on service, and the 
 paragraphs of the Moniteur containing the details of the 
 arrests were shouted in the streets. In the recesses of her 
 little coop, in the lottery office in the Rue Vivienne, Agathe 
 heard the name of Philippe Bridau. She fainted away; and 
 the head clerk, understanding her grief and the necessity for
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 101 
 
 her taking some action, gave her a fortnight's leave of 
 absence. 
 
 "Ah, my dear ! We, with our austerity, have driven him 
 to this," she said to Joseph, as she went to lie down. 
 
 " I will go to see Desroches," said Joseph. 
 
 The artist went off to place his brother's case in the hands 
 of Desroches, who was regarded as the craftiest and astutest 
 attorney in Paris, and who had rendered good service to vari- 
 ous persons of importance, among others to des Lupeaulx, at 
 that time chief secretary in a minister's office. Meanwhile 
 Giroudeau came to call on the widow, who trusted him this 
 time. 
 
 "Madame," said he, "find twelve thousand francs, and 
 your son will be released for want of evidence. We have 
 only to purchase the silence of two witnesses." 
 
 "I will get them," said the poor mother, not knowing 
 how or whence. 
 
 Inspired by the danger, she wrote to her godmother, Mad- 
 ame Hochon, to beg them of Jean-Jacques Rouget, to save 
 Philippe. If Rouget should refuse, she entreated Madame 
 Hochon to lend her the money, promising to repay it in two 
 years. By return of post she received the following letter : 
 
 " My dear Child: — Though your brother has, first and 
 last, forty thousand francs a year, to say nothing of the 
 money he has saved in the last seventeen years, which Mon- 
 sieur Hochon estimates at more than six hundred thousand 
 francs, he will not spend two sous on the nephews he has 
 never seen. As for me — you cannot know that so long as my 
 husband lives I shall never have six francs to call my own. 
 Hochon is the greatest miser in Issoudun ; I do not know 
 what he does with his money ; he does not give his grand- 
 children twenty francs in a year. To borrow it I should have 
 to ask his leave, and he would not give it. I have not even 
 attempted to speak with your brother, who keeps a woman,
 
 102 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 whose very humble servant he is. It is pitiable to see how 
 the poor man is treated in his own house when he has a siste/ 
 and nephews. 
 
 " I have hinted to you several times that your presence 
 at Issoudun might save your brother, and rescue from the 
 clutches of that hussy a fortune of forty or even sixty thou- 
 sand francs a year ; but you do not answer me, or seem not 
 to have understood me. So I write to you to-day without 
 any circumlocution. I sympathize deeply with the misfor 
 tune that has come upon you, but I can give you nothing bu' 
 pity, my dearest child. 
 
 " This is why I can do nothing to help you : Hochon, a) 
 the age of eighty-five, eats his four meals a day, sups off hard' 
 boiled eggs and salad, and is as brisk as a rabbit. I shall 
 have lived all my days — for he will write my epitaph — withou' 
 ever having had twenty francs in my purse. If you like t< 
 come to Issoudun to combat the influence of your brother'* 
 concubine, though there are good reasons why Rouget should 
 not receive you into his house, I shall find it difficult to obtaiff 
 my husband's permission to invite you to mine. Still, yott 
 can come ; he will give way on that point. I know a way of 
 getting what I want in some things, and that is by talking of 
 my will. This seems to me so atrocious that I have never yet 
 had recourse to it ; but for you I would do the impossible. 
 I hope your Philippe will get out of the scrape, especially if 
 you have a good advocate ; but come to Issoudun as soon as 
 you can. Remember that your brother, at fifty-seven, is older 
 and more frail than Monsieur Hochon. So the case is urgent. 
 
 " Already there are rumors of a will depriving you of your 
 inheritance ; but by Monsieur Hochon's account there is yet 
 time to procure its revocation. 
 
 " Farewell, my little Agathe. God be with you. And 
 rely on your godmother too, for she loves you. 
 
 " Maximilienne Hochon, nee Lousteau.
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 103 
 
 "P. S. — Has my nephew, Etienne, who writes for the 
 papers, and is intimate, I am told, with your son Philippe, 
 ever been to pay his respects to you ? But only come, and 
 we will talk about him." 
 
 This letter gave Agathe much to think about ; of course 
 she showed it to Joseph, to whom she was obliged to confide 
 Giroudeou's suggestion. The artist, who was cautious when 
 his brother was concerned, pointed out to his mother that she 
 ought to lay it all before Desroches. Struck by the truth 
 of this remark, she and her son went next day, at six in the 
 morning, to call on the attorney Desroches at his office in the 
 Rue de Bussy. 
 
 The lawyer, as lean as his father before him, with a harsh 
 voice, a coarse skin, pitiless eyes, and a face like a ferret 
 licking the blood of murdered chickens off its lips, sprang 
 like a tiger when he heard of Giroudeau's call. 
 
 "Bless me, Mother Bridau," he cried in his shrill, hard 
 voice, " how long will you continue to be the dupe of your 
 cursed scoundrel of a son ? Do not give him a sou. I 
 will be responsible for Philippe; it is to save him in the 
 future that I shall leave him to the sentence of the superior 
 court. You quail at the idea of his being found guilty, but 
 God grant that his counsel may fail to get him off. You, go 
 to Issoudun ; save your fortune and that of your children. 
 If you do not succeed, if your brother has made his will in 
 that woman's favor, and you cannot get him to revoke it — 
 well, at any rate, collect the materials for proving undue in- 
 fluence, and I will conduct the case. But there ! You are 
 too good a woman to know how to find out the grounds for 
 such an action. In the holidays I will go myself to Issoudun 
 — if I possibly can." 
 
 And this " I will go myself" made the artist shiver in his 
 skin. 
 
 Desroches winked at Joseph as a sign that he should let
 
 104 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 his mother go downstairs first, and detained him for an 
 instant. 
 
 "Your brother is a base wretch; he, voluntarily or invol- 
 untarily, is the cause of the discovery of the conspiracy ; for 
 the rascal is so cunning that it is impossible to find out the 
 truth about it. Fool or traitor — I leave you to choose be- 
 tween them. He will no doubt be placed under the eye of 
 the detective police ; but that is all. Be quite easy ; I 
 alone know even this much. Hurry off to Issoudun with 
 your mother. You have all your wits; try to save the in- 
 heritance." 
 
 "Come, poor mother, Desroches is right," said Joseph, 
 rejoining Agathe on the stairs. "I have sold my pictures ; 
 let us set out for Berry, as you have a fortnight's leave." 
 
 Having written to her godmother to announce their arrival, 
 Agathe and Joseph started next day for Issoudun, leaving 
 Philippe to his fate. The diligence went down the Rue de 
 l'Enfer to take the Orleans road. When Agathe saw the 
 Luxembourg, whither Philippe had been transferred, she could 
 not help saying — 
 
 "After all, but for the Allies he would not be there 
 now ! " 
 
 Many sons would have given an impatient shrug or smiled 
 in pity ; but Joseph, who was alone with her in the coupe of 
 the diligence, threw his arm round her, and pressed her to 
 his heart, saying, "Oh, mother! you are a mother as Ra- 
 phael was a painter ! And you always will be a dear goose of 
 a mother ! " 
 
 Aroused from her troubles by the amusement of the jour- 
 ney, Madame Bridau was presently obliged to think of the 
 purpose of her visit. Of course, she re-read Madame Ho- 
 chon's letter, which had so strongly excited Desroches. 
 Struck by such words as "concubine" and "hussy," traced 
 by the pen of an old woman of seventy, as pious as she was 
 respectable, to designate the woman who was absorbing Jean-
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 105 
 
 Jacques Rouget's fortune, while he himself was spoken of as 
 a poor creature, she began to wonder how her presence at 
 Issoudun could avail to save her inheritance. Joseph, an 
 artist, poor and disinterested, knew little of the law, and his 
 mother's exclamation puzzled him. 
 
 "Before sending us off to protect our inheritance, our 
 friend Desroches would have done well to explain to us how 
 we can be robbed of it," said he. 
 
 " So far as my memory serves me — but my head was full 
 of the notion of Philippe in prison, without a pipe even 
 perhaps, and on the eve of standing his trial before the 
 superior court" — said Agathe, "I fancy Desroches said we 
 were to collect materials for an action against undue influence 
 if it should appear that my brother has made his will in favor 
 of this — this — woman." 
 
 "A good joke for Desroches!" cried Joseph. "Well, 
 if we can make nothing of it, I will ask him to go him- 
 self." 
 
 "Do not then let us rack our brains for nothing," said 
 Agathe. "When we are there, my godmother will advise 
 us." 
 
 This conversation, held at the moment when, after chang- 
 ing coach at Orleans, Madame Bridau and Joseph were 
 entering the district of Sologne, sufficiently betrays the 
 incapacity of both the artist and his mother to play the 
 part the terrible attorney had assigned to them. 
 
 But on returning to Issoudun after an absence of thirty 
 years, Agathe found the manners of the place so altered that 
 a slight sketch of the life of the town is indispensable. With- 
 out such a picture, it would be difficult to understand Madame 
 Hochon's real heroism in trying to help her goddaughter, or 
 Jean-Jacques Rouget's extraordinary position. 
 
 Though the doctor had made his son regard Agathe as a 
 stranger, still, in a brother, there was something rather extraor- 
 dinary in living for thirty years without giving his sister any
 
 106 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 sign of his existence. This silence must evidently have its 
 cause in some unusual circumstances which any relations but 
 Agathe and Joseph would long since have insisted on knowing. 
 And, in fact, there was a certain connection between the state 
 of the town and the Bridaus' concerns, which will come to 
 light in the course of this narrative. 
 
 With all due respect to Paris, Issoudun is one of the oldest 
 towns in France. Notwithstanding historical prejudice, which 
 insists on regarding the Emperor Probus as the Noah of Gaul, 
 Caesar writes of the fine wine of Champ-Fort (de Campo 
 Forti), one of the finest vintages of Issoudun. Rigord men- 
 tions the town in terms which allow of no doubt as to its 
 large population and extensive commerce. Still, these two 
 authorities would give Issoudun a moderate antiquity in com- 
 parison with its really immense age. Excavations lately made 
 by a learned archaeologist of the town, Monsieur Armand 
 Peremet, have led to the discovery of a basilica of the fifth 
 century — probably the only example in France — under the 
 famous tower of Issoudun. This church preserves in the 
 materials of which it is built the record of a previous civiliza- 
 tion ; for the stones are those of a Roman temple of earlier 
 date. And, indeed, the researches of this antiquary show 
 that Issoudun, like all French towns of which the name, 
 ancient or modern, ends in dun = dunum, contains in its 
 name a certificate of native origin. The syllable dun, attaeh- 
 ing to every hill consecrated to the religion of the Druids, 
 shows it to have been a Celtic military and religious centre. 
 The Romans then may have built at the foot of the Dun of the 
 Gauls a temple to Isis ; hence, according to Chaumon, the 
 name of the town, Is-sous-dun (Is[is]-under-hill) — " Is " being 
 an abbreviated form of Isis. 
 
 Richard Cceur de Lion undoubtedly built the famous tower, 
 where he coined money, over a basilica of the fifth century, 
 the third sanctuary of the third religion of this ancient city.
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 107 
 
 He made use of the church as a base which he needed to add 
 to the height of his ramparts, and preserved it by covering it 
 with his feudal fortifications as with a cloak. Issoudun next 
 became the seat of the transient authority of the Routiers and 
 Cottereaux, bands of brigands with which Henry II. opposed 
 his son Richard when he rebelled as Count of Poitou. The 
 history of Aquitaine, not having been written by the Bene- 
 dictines, will now probably never be written, as there are no 
 more Benedictines. Hence it is well to throw every possible 
 light on these archaeological obscurities whenever an oppor- 
 tunity offers. 
 
 There is still further evidence of the ancient importance of 
 Issoudun in the use made of the little Tournemine river, 
 which has been raised for a considerable distance on an aque- 
 duct several yards above the natural level of the Theols, the 
 stream that encircles the town. This work is, beyond ques- 
 tion, due to Roman engineers. Finally, the quarter lying to 
 the north of the castle is intersected by a road known for 
 two thousand years as the Rue de Rome ; and the inhabitants 
 of the suburb, who are certainly of a quite distinct type in race, 
 blood, and features, call themselves the direct descendants of 
 the Romans. They are almost all vine-dressers, and singu- 
 larly stern in their manners, owing, perhaps, to their origin, 
 and perhaps also to their triumph over the Cottereaux and 
 Roitliers, whom they exterminated in the twelfth century on 
 the plain of Charost. 
 
 After the outbreak in 1830, France was too much agitated 
 to pay any attention to the rebellion among the vine-growers 
 of Issoudun, which was very serious, though the details were 
 never published, and for very good reasons. In the first 
 place, the citizens of Issoudun would not allow any troops to 
 anter the city. They chose to be responsible for it themselves, 
 after the usage and traditions of the citizen-class in the mid- 
 dle ages. The authorities were forced to succumb to a popu- 
 lace supported by six or seven thousand vine-dressers, who
 
 108 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 had burned all the archives and the tax-offices, and who went 
 from street to street, dragging about an excise officer of the 
 octroi, saying at each lamp-chain, " This is the place to hang 
 him." The unhappy man was delivered from these wretches 
 by the National Guard, who saved his life by taking him to 
 prison on the pretext of trying him. The general of the 
 forces only got in by coming to terms with the vine-dressers, 
 and it needed some courage to walk through the mob ; for as 
 soon as he appeared outside the town-hall a man of the Roman 
 suburb put his pruning scythe — a large curved knife at the 
 end of a pole, used for lopping trees — round his neck, crying 
 out, "No more tax-gatherers, or we yield nothing." And 
 the laborer would have pruned off the head of a man whom 
 sixteen years of fighting had spared, but for the prompt inter- 
 vention of one of the leaders of the rebellion, who obtained a 
 promise that the Chambers should be asked to suppress the 
 "cellar-rats," or excise men. 
 
 In the fourteenth century Issoudun could still boast of sev- 
 enteen thousand inhabitants, the remnant of a population of 
 nearly double that number in Rigord's time. Charles VII. 
 had a residence there ; it still exists, and was known as the 
 " Maison du Roi " so late as the eighteenth century. This 
 town, at that time the central mart of the wool-trade, supplied 
 the greater part of Europe with the raw material, besides 
 manufacturing it on a large scale into cloth, hats, and excel- 
 lent gloves, called Chevrcautin. In the time of Louis XIV. 
 Issoudun, the birthplace of Baron and of Bourdaloue, was 
 always mentioned as a home of elegance, pure French, and 
 good society. Poupart, the priest, in his " History of San- 
 cerre," speaks of the inhabitants of Issoudun as remarkable 
 among all the natives of Berry for their acumen and mother- 
 wit. 
 
 At the present day this brilliancy and wit have totally dis- 
 appeared. Issoudun, though its wide extent bears witness to 
 its former importance, claims but twelve thousand souls, in-
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 109 
 
 eluding the vine-dressers of four extensive suburbs — Saint- 
 Paterne, Vilatte, Rome, and Les Alouettes — little towns in 
 themselves. The inhabitants, like those of Versailles, have 
 elbow-room in the streets. Issoudun still is the centre of the 
 wool-trade of Berry, a business now in danger from the im- 
 provements which are being generally introduced in the breed 
 of sheep which the Berrichon will not adopt. The vineyards 
 of Issoudun yield a wine which is consumed in two depart- ' 
 ments ; and which, if it were only made as wine is made in 
 Burgundy and Gascony, would be one of the best vintages 
 in France. But, alas ! " We do as our fathers did ! "—that is 
 the law of the land. So the vine-growers leave the stalks in 
 the liquor during fermentation, which ruins the flavor of a 
 wine that might be the source of renewed wealth, and an 
 opening for the industry of the district. Thanks to the rough- 
 ness communicated to the wine by the wood, and which is 
 said to diminish with age, it may be kept for a century ! 
 This reason, assigned by the vine-grower, is important enough 
 to the science of the manufacture to be recorded here ; Guil- 
 laume le Breton has, in fact, celebrated this property in a 
 few lines in his " Philippide." 
 
 Thus the decay of Issoudun is accounted for by its perverse 
 stagnation, carried to imbecility, as one single fact will show. 
 When the direct road was contemplated from Paris to Tou- 
 louse, it was obvious that it should run from Vierzon to 
 Chateauroux, past Issoudun. This is shorter than the line 
 actually taken by Vatan. But the bigwigs of the town, and 
 the municipal council of Issoudun — which, it is said, still sits 
 — petitioned for it passing through Vatan ; objecting that if 
 their town lay on the high-road, the price of provisions would 
 rise, and they might be obliged to pay thirty sous for a fowl. 
 
 No analogous act is recorded of any land but the wildest 
 districts of Sardinia, a country formerly so populous and rich, 
 and now so deserted. When King Charles Albert, with a 
 laudable intent to civilize the land, proposed to connect Sas-
 
 110 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 sari, the second town in the island, with Cagliari, by a fine 
 and magnificent high-road, the only road existing in this wild 
 savannah, the direct line was planned to pass Bonorva, a dis- 
 trict inhabited by a refractory race very like our abject Arab 
 tribes, and, in fact, descended from the Moors. When they 
 saw themselves within an ace of being caught by civilization, 
 the savages of Bonorva, without taking the trouble to discuss 
 the matter, signified their opposition to the plan. The govern- 
 ment disregarded this announcement. The first engineer 
 who attempted to take a bee-line had a bullet in his brain, 
 and died by his stake. No questions were asked ; but the 
 road made a bend that lengthens it by eight leagues. 
 
 At Issoudun the increasingly low price of the wine, all 
 consumed on the spot, while gratifying the citizen's wish to 
 live cheaply, is bringing about the ruin of the grape-growers, 
 who are more and more oppressed by the cost of cultivation 
 and the excise ; in the same way, ruin threatens the wool 
 trade of the district, in consequence of the impossibility of 
 improving the breed of sheep. The country folks have a 
 rooted horror of every kind of change, even of that which 
 may serve their interests. 
 
 A traveler from Paris found a laborer in the country who 
 was dining off an enormous quantity of bread, cheese, and 
 vegetables. He proved to him that by substituting a certain 
 proportion of meat he would be nourished better and cheaper, 
 he would do more work, and waste his capital of strength 
 more slowly. The man of Berry admitted the accuracy of 
 the calculation. "But only consider the jaw, sir," said he. 
 " The jaw? " " Why, yes, sir ; how people would tattle ! " 
 
 "He would have been the talk of the district," said the 
 owner of the land on which the incident occurred. " They 
 would think he was as rich as a townsman. In short, he is 
 afraid of public opinion, of being pointed at, of being sup- 
 posed to be ailing or ill. That is what we all are in this part 
 of the world."
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. Ill 
 
 Country-town folk often echo these last words with a feeling 
 of covert pride. 
 
 And while ignorance and routine are inseparable in the 
 country, where the peasantry are left to themselves, Issoudun, 
 as a town, has settled into absolute social stagnation. Being 
 obliged to make head against waning fortunes by sordid econ- 
 omy, each family lives for itself alone. Again, the society 
 there is now forever bereft of the contrast that gives distinc- 
 tion to manners. The town is no longer the scene of that 
 antagonism of two classes which gave vitality to the Italian 
 states in the middle ages. Issoudun has no men of birth. 
 The Cottereaux, the Routiers, the Jacquerie, the religious 
 wars, and the Revolution have completely exterminated the 
 nobility. The town is very proud of this triumph. To keep 
 down the cost of living, Issoudun has persistently refused to 
 be made a garrison town ; thus it has lost that means of inter- 
 course with the times, besides losing the profit that is derived 
 from the presence of the military. 
 
 Until 1756 Issoudun was one of the gayest of garrison 
 towns. A judicial drama, which was the talk of France at 
 that time, deprived the town of its soldiery ; the case of the 
 lieutenant-general of the district against the Marquis de 
 Chapt, whose son, a dragoon officer, was put to death, justly 
 perhaps, but traitorously, for some amorous misdemeanor. 
 
 The occupation by the 44th half-brigade, forced upon it 
 during the civil war, was not such as to reconcile the inhabit- 
 ants to the soldier tribe. 
 
 Bourges, of which the population is annually diminishing, is 
 a victim to the same social atrophy. Vitality is failing in 
 these large bodies. The state is no doubt to blame. It is the 
 duty of a government to detect such sores in the body politic, 
 and to remedy them by sending men of energy to the affected 
 spots to change the state of things. Alas ! far from this, 
 such fatal and funereal peacefulness is a source of satisfaction ! 
 Besides, how is it possible to send, fresh chiefs or capable
 
 112 A BACHELOR'S ESl^ABLISHMENT. 
 
 judges ? Who nowadays would care to be buried in a district 
 where he can earn no credit for the good to be done ? If by 
 chance an ambitious outsider is appointed to such a place, he 
 is soon swamped by the power of inertia, and tunes himself 
 to the pitch of the dreadful provincial life. Issoudun would 
 have benumbed Napoleon. 
 
 As a result of this state of things, the district of Issoudun, 
 in 1822, was under the administration of men all natives 
 of Berry. Government authority was therefore nil or impo- 
 tent, excepting in those cases, of course very rare, of which 
 the evident importance demands the intervention of the law. 
 Monsieur Mouilleron, the public prosecutor, was related to 
 everybody, and his deputy belonged to a family in the town. 
 The president of the criminal court, before he had risen to 
 such dignity, had made himself famous by one of those 
 speeches which, in the provinces, crown a man with a fool's 
 cap for the rest of his life. At the end of a case for the 
 prosecution which would entail capital punishment, he said 
 to the prisoner : " My poor Pierre, the case is clear : you will 
 have your head cut off. Let that be a lesson to you." The 
 superintendent of police, who had held the post ever since 
 the Restoration, had relations all over the district. 
 
 Finally, not only had religion no influence whatever, but 
 the cure was not respected. The townsfolk — Liberals, back- 
 biters, and ignorant — repeated more or less absurd stories 
 about the poor man's conduct to his housekeeper. The chil- 
 dren went to his catechizing all the same, and were admitted 
 to their first communion ; and likewise, there was a school ; 
 mass was said and festivals were kept ; the taxes were paid, 
 the only thing Paris requires of the provinces ; and the mayor 
 passed resolutions ; but all these acts of social life were mere 
 matters of routine. Thus the lethargy of official life was in 
 admirable harmony with the moral and intellectual condition 
 of the place. The sequel of this narrative will show the 
 results of a state of things less exceptional than might be
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 113 
 
 supposed. Many towns in France, especially in the south, are 
 very like Issoudun. And the state to which the triumph of 
 the middle class had brought this town — the chief town of 
 its district (or arrondissement) — awaits all France, and even 
 Paris, if the citizen class continues to be master of the home 
 and foreign policy of our country. 
 
 Now a word as to the topography of Issoudun. The town 
 extends north and south on a hillside that curves towards the 
 Chateauroux road. At the foot of the slope a canal was con- 
 structed at the time when the place was prosperous, to supply 
 the factories, or to flood the trenches below the ramparts ; it 
 is known as la Riviere forcee (the borrowed stream), its waters 
 being diverted from the Theols. The borrowed stream forms 
 an artificial branch, returning to the natural river below the 
 Roman suburb at a point where it is met by the Tournemine 
 and some other affluents. These little brooks of rushing 
 water irrigate meadows of some extent, which lie on all sides 
 below the yellow or white hills closely dotted with black 
 specks, for such is the aspect of the vineland of Issoudun 
 during seven months of the year. The vine-dressers cover the 
 vines every year, and leave nothing but a hideous stump, 
 without any prop, at the bottom of a funnel of earth. Thus, 
 on arriving from Vierzon, Vatan, or Chateauroux, the eye, 
 wearied by the monotonous plain, is agreeably surprised by 
 the appearance of the meadowland of Issoudun, the oasis of 
 this part of the country, supplying vegetables for ten leagues 
 round. Below the suburb of Rome stretches one vast market- 
 garden exclusively devoted to kitchen produce, and divided 
 into the Upper and Lower Baltan. 
 
 A broad, long avenue, with sidewalks planted with poplars, 
 leads from the town, across the fields, to an ancient convent 
 called Frapesle, where an English garden — unique in the dis- 
 trict — bears the high-sounding name of Tivoli. Here, on 
 Sundays, fond couples wander to breathe their confidences. 
 
 Traces of the former splendor of Issoudun can, of course, 
 8
 
 114 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 be discerned by an attentive observer, and the most con- 
 spicuous are the divisions of the town. The castle, which of 
 old was a town of itself, with its walls and moats, constitutes 
 a distinct quarter even now, entered only through the old 
 gates, or quitted by three bridges over the arms of the two 
 rivers ; this alone has the aspect of an old town. The walls 
 still show their formidable masonry, here and there crowned 
 with houses. Above the castle rises the tower which was the 
 citadel. The conqueror of the town lying round these two 
 fortified strongholds had still to take both the tower and the 
 castle. Nor did the mastery of the castle secure that of the 
 tower. The suburb of Saint-Paterne beyond the tower, 
 shaped like a palette, and encroaching on the fields, is so 
 large that it must in early ages have been the original town- 
 ship. Since the middle ages Issoudun, like Paris, has climbed 
 the hill and spread outside the tower and the castle. 
 
 In 1822 this notion still derived some certainty from the 
 existence of the beautiful church of Saint-Paterne, only re- 
 cently pulled down by the son of the man who purchased it 
 from the nation. This building, one of the prettiest ex- 
 amples of Romanesque church architecture in France, was 
 destroyed without any one having drawn the porch front, 
 which was in perfect preservation. The only voice that was 
 raised to save the building found no echo, neither in the town 
 nor in the department. 
 
 Though the castle-precincts of Issoudun have all the char- 
 acteristics of an old place, with its narrow streets and ancient 
 houses, the town, properly so called, which was taken and 
 burnt again and again at different periods, and especially dur- 
 ing the Fronde, when it was burnt to the ground, has now a 
 modern aspect. Broad streets, as compared with the other 
 quarters, and well-built houses form a contrast with the 
 ancient castle, striking enough to have earned Issoudun, in 
 some geographies, the epithet of " pretty." 
 
 In a town thus constituted, devoid even of commercial
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 115 
 
 activity, of taste for the arts, of scientific interest, where 
 every one sits at home, it could not but happen — and it did 
 in fact happen — that at the time of the Restoration, in 1816, 
 when the war was over, many of the young men of the place 
 had no career before them, and did not know what to do 
 with themselves pending their marriage, or their coming into 
 their parents' money. Bored to death at home, these young 
 people found no means of diversion in the town ; and since, 
 as the proverb has it, " young men must sow their wild oats," 
 they performed the operation at the expense of the town 
 itself. It was difficult to do much by broad daylight ; they 
 would have been recognized, and, the cup of their misde- 
 meanors once full, they would at their first serious offense 
 have found themselves in the hands of the police ; so they 
 very judiciously preferred to play their mischievous pranks at 
 night. And thus, among these old ruins left by so many 
 departed phases of civilization, a vestige of the farcical spirit 
 that characterized the manners of the past flashed like a dying 
 flame. These young men took their pleasure as Charles IX. 
 and his courtiers, or Henry V. and his companions, were 
 wont to take theirs, in a form of amusement common of old 
 in many provincial towns. 
 
 Having become confederates by their need of mutual help 
 and defense, and the desire to invent practical jokes, the 
 friction of wits developed among them a pitch of mischiev- 
 ousness which is natural to the young, and may be noticed 
 even in animals. Their confederacy gave them also the little 
 enjoyment that comes of the mystery of a standing conspi- 
 racy. They called themselves "The Knights of Idlesse." 
 All through the day these young monkeys were little saints ; 
 they affected excessive quietude ; besides, they slept late in 
 the mornings after nights when they had carried out some 
 cruel trick. The Knights of Idlesse began by common prac- 
 tical jokes, such as unhooking and changing shop-signs, 
 ringing at doors, hurling a cask left outside a door into a
 
 116 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 neighbor's cellar with a prodigious clatter, and waking the 
 folks by a noise like the explosion of a mine. At Issoudun, as 
 in many places, the way into the cellars is through a trapdoor 
 close to the entrance from the street, closed by a huge lid 
 with hinges, and fastened with a heavy padlock. These bad 
 boys, at the end of 1816, had not gotten beyond the practical 
 jokes played everywhere by young men and lads. But in 
 January, 1S17, the Order of Idlesse had a grand master, and 
 distinguished itself by certain pranks which until 1823 were 
 the terror of Issoudun, or, at any rate, kept the citizens and 
 craftsmen in perpetual alarms. 
 
 This leader was one Maxence Gilet, called Max for short ; 
 and his antecedents, no less than his strength and youth, 
 destined him for the part. Maxence Gilet was supposed to 
 be the natural son of Lousteau, Madame Hochon's brother, 
 the sub-delegate whose gallantries had left many memorials, 
 and who had incurred, as we know, Doctor Rouget's hatred 
 apropos to Agathe's birth. But before this quarrel the friend- 
 ship between the two men had been so close that, to use a 
 phrase of the country and period, where one went the other 
 would go. So it was always said that Max might just as well 
 be the doctor's son as Lousteau's ; but he belonged to neither 
 of them, for his father was a handsome young dragoon officer 
 in garrison at Bourges. However, as a consequence of their 
 intimacy, happily for the boy, the two men were always dis- 
 puting for the paternity. 
 
 Max's mother, the wife of a clog-maker in the Roman 
 suburb, was for her soul's destruction amazingly beautiful, 
 with the beauty of a true Trasteverina, the only thing she 
 had to bequeath to her boy. Madame Gilet, before Max's 
 birth in 1788, had long pined for this boon from heaven, 
 which was maliciously ascribed to the gallantries of the two 
 men — no doubt to set them at loggerheads. Gilet, a hard- 
 ened old sot, winked at his wife's misconduct by such 
 collusion and tolerance as arc not exceptional in the lowest
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 117 
 
 class. The woman herself, hoping to secure their protection 
 for the child, took good care not to enlighten the supposed 
 fathers. In Paris she would have been a millionaire; at Is- 
 soudun she sometimes was well off, sometimes wretchedly 
 poor, and at last scorned by all. 
 
 Madame Hochon, Monsieur Lousteau's sister, paid about 
 ten crowns a year towards Max's schooling. This liberality, 
 which Madame Hochon could not allow herself in consequence 
 of her husband's avarice, was naturally attributed to her 
 brother, then living at Sancerre. When Doctor Rouget, whose 
 son was not a success, observed how handsome Max was, he 
 paid the school expenses of the " young rascal," as he called 
 him, till 1805. As Lousteau had died in 1800, and the doctor 
 seemed to gratify a feeling of pride by paying the boy's 
 schooling for five years, the question of paternity remained 
 unsettled. 
 
 Indeed, Maxence Gilet, the cause of many jests, was soon 
 forgotten. And this is his story. In 1806, a year after Doctor 
 Rouget's death, the boy, who seemed born to a life of adven- 
 ture, and who was indeed gifted with extraordinary strength 
 and agility, had committed a number of more or less rash 
 acts of mischief. He and Monsieur Hochon's grandsons were 
 already in league to drive the tradesfolk to frenzy ; he gath- 
 ered all the neighbors' fruit before the owners, making noth- 
 ing of scaling a wall. This imp had no match in athletic 
 exercises ; he played prisoner's base to perfection ; he could 
 have coursed and caught a hare. He had an eye worthy of 
 ] Leather Stocking, and had a passion for sport. Instead of 
 doing his lessons, he passed all his time in shooting at a mark. 
 He spent all the money be could extract from the old doctor 
 in buying powder and shot for a worn-out pistol given to him 
 by Gilet the clog-maker. Now, in the autumn of 1S06, Max, 
 by this time seventeen, committed an involuntary murder 
 one evening at nightfall by coming upon a young woman in 
 her garden, where he was stealing fruit, and frightening her
 
 118 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 into a miscarriage. Being threatened by the clog-maker with 
 the guillotine — the old man, no doubt, wanted to be rid of 
 him — Max ran off, and never stopped till he reached Bourges, 
 joined a regiment on the march to Spain, and there enlisted. 
 No further notice was taken of the young woman's death. 
 
 A lad of Max's disposition was certain to distinguish him- 
 self; and he did so, with such effect that, after three cam- 
 paigns, he returned as a captain, for the little learning he had 
 picked up had served him well. In 1809, in Portugal, he 
 was left for dead on an English battery which his company 
 had taken, but could not hold. Max, a prisoner, was sent by 
 the English to the Spanish hulks at Cabrera, the worst of all. 
 
 An application was indeed made on his behalf to the Em- 
 peror for the cross of the Legion of Honor and the rank of 
 major, but Napoleon was just then in Austria ; he kept all his 
 favors for the dashing actions that were done under his own 
 eye ; he had no liking for men who were taken prisoners, and 
 was not best pleased with the state of affairs in Portugal. 
 
 Max was left on the hulks from 18 10 to 181 4. In the 
 course of those four years he was utterly demoralized ; for the 
 hulks were the galleys minus the crime and disgrace. In the 
 first place, to secure his own freedom of action and defend 
 himself against the corruption that was rampant in those foul 
 prisons, unworthy of any civilized nation, the handsome 
 young captain killed in duels — for duels were fought on a 
 space six yards square — seven bullies and tyrants of whom he 
 rid his ship, to the great joy of their victims. Max reigned 
 in the hulks, thanks to the prodigious skill he acquired in 
 handling his weapons, to his personal strength and cleverness. 
 But he, in his turn, committed some arbitrary acts, and had 
 adherents who took his part and became his flatterers. In 
 this school of misery, where embittered nature dreamed only 
 of revenge, and where the sophistries hatched in these seeth- 
 ing brains found a warrant for every evil purpose, Max became 
 utterly depraved. He listened to the counsel of those who
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 119 
 
 aimed at fortune at any price, and did not shrink from crim- 
 inal deeds so long as they could be committed without proof. 
 
 At last, at the peace, he was released, perverted though 
 guiltless, capable of becoming a great politician in public life 
 or a scoundrel in private life, as circumstances might direct. 
 
 On his return to Issoudun he heard of the deplorable end 
 of his parents. Like all people who give way to their pas- 
 sions, and lead, as the saying goes, a short life and a merry 
 one, the Gilets had died in hospital in the most dire poverty. 
 Almost immediately after the news of Napoleon's landing at 
 Cannes ran through France, Max thought he could not do 
 better than go to Paris and ask for his cross and his promo- 
 tion. The marshal who was then at the head of the war office 
 remembered Captain Gilet's brave conduct in Portugal; he 
 gave him his commission with the rank of major of infantry ; 
 but he could not obtain the cross for him. "The Emperor 
 says you will be sure to win it in the first fight," said the 
 marshal. And, in fact, the Emperor put down the brave cap- 
 tain's name for that honor after the battle of Fleurus, where 
 Gilet distinguished himself. After the battle of Waterloo, 
 Gilet retired with the army on the Loire. When the revision 
 took place, Marshal Feltre would grant him neither his pro- 
 motion nor his cross. 
 
 Napoleon's soldier came home to Issoudun in a state of 
 exasperation that may easily be imagined ; he refused to serve 
 at all without his cross and the rank of major. The authori- 
 ties thought this a monstrous demand from a young man of 
 five-and-twenty, who at that rate might be a colonel at thirty. 
 So Max sent in his papers. Thus the major — for the Bona- 
 partists recognized among themselves the promotions con- 
 ferred in 1815 — lost the pittance designated as half-pay that 
 was doled out to the officers of the Army of the Loire. At 
 the sight of this handsome young fellow, whose whole posses- 
 sions were twenty napoleons, Issoudun bestirred itself in his 
 favor, and the mayor gave him a place in his office with a
 
 120 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 salary of six hundred francs. Max, after holding this appoint- 
 ment for about six months, retired of his own accord, and 
 was succeeded by a captain named Carpentier, who, like him- 
 self, had remained faithful to Napoleon. 
 
 Gil'et, already grand master of the Knights of Idlesse, had 
 entered on a life which lost him the regard of the best families 
 in the town ; not that they said anything to him, for he was 
 violent, and dreaded by everybody, even by those officers of 
 the old army who had, like him, refused to serve, and had 
 come home to plant cabbages in Berry. 
 
 The small affection felt for the Bourbons by the good folks 
 of Issoudun is not surprising after what has here been said. 
 And, in proportion to its size, there were more Bonapartists 
 in this little town than anywhere else. As it is well known, 
 almost all the Bonapartists became Liberals. At Issoudun, or 
 in the neighborhood, there were perhaps a dozen officers in 
 the same position as Maxence, who liked him so well as to 
 regard him as their chief; with the sole exception of Car- 
 pentier, his successor, and of a certain Monsieur Mignonnet, 
 ex-captain of the artillery of the Guard. Carpentier, a cavalry 
 officer, who had risen from the ranks, very soon married, thus 
 allying himself with one of the most important families in the 
 town — that of Borniche-Herau. Mignonnet, a student of the 
 Ecole Polytechnique, had belonged to a corps which fancies 
 itself superior to all others. There were in the imperial armies 
 two tones of feeling among the military. A strong party had 
 an immense contempt for the mere citizen, the pequin, the 
 plain-clothes man, such as the noble felt for the villein, the 
 conquering race for the conquered. These were not over- 
 strict in observing the code of honor in their intercourse with 
 civilians, and a man who had cut down a bourgeois was not 
 too severely blamed. The others, and among them the artil- 
 lery, as a result perhaps of its republicanism, did not adopt 
 this view, which tended indeed to divide France into two 
 parts — Military France and Civilian France. Hence, though
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 121 
 
 Major Potel and Captain Renard, two officers living in the 
 Roman quarter, whose views as to civilians never varied, were 
 Maxence Gilet's friends through thick and thin, Major Mig- 
 nonnet and Captain Carpentier sided with the townsfolk in 
 regarding Max's conduct as unworthy of an " officer and a 
 gentleman." 
 
 Major Mignonnet, a little dry man of much dignity, gave 
 his mind to the problems which the steam-engine seemed 
 likely to solve, and lived very simply in the quiet society of 
 Monsieur and Madame Carpentier. His gentle manners and 
 scientific pursuits gained him the consideration of the whole 
 town. And it was currently said that these two gentlemen 
 were a very different sort from Major Potel and Captain 
 Renard, Maxence, and the rest who frequented the Cafe 
 Militaire and kept up the rough manners and traditions of 
 the Empire. 
 
 Thus, at the time when Madame Bridau revisited Issoudun, 
 Max was an outlaw from the citizen world. The young 
 fellow indeed so far sentenced himself that he never intruded 
 himself on the circle known as the club, and did not complain 
 of the reprobation of which he was the object, though he was 
 the youngest, and smartest, and best-dressed man in Issoudun, 
 spent a good deal of money, and even had a horse — a crea- 
 ture as strange at Issoudun as Lord Byron's was at Venice. 
 
 It will presently be seen how it had come to pass that 
 Maxence, poor and unassisted, had been enabled to become 
 the man of fashion of Issoudun ; for these disgracaful means, 
 which earned him the contempt of timid or pious persons, 
 were linked with the interests which had brought Agathe and 
 Joseph from Paris. To judge from his braggart bearing and 
 the expression of his countenance, Max cared little enough 
 for public opinion ; he no doubt counted on being revenged 
 some day, and reigning over those who now scorned him. 
 
 Besides, though the better class might misprize him, the 
 admiration his character commanded among the populace was
 
 122 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 a counterpoise to that opinion ; his courage, his fine appear- 
 ance, his decisiveness, delighted the mob; but, indeed, his 
 depravity was not known to them, nor was its extent suspected 
 even by the townsfolk. 
 
 Max, at Issoudun, played a part very similar to that of the 
 armorer in " The Fair Maid of Perth ; " he was the cham- 
 pion of Bonaparte and the Opposition. He was looked to 
 on great occasions as the good men of Perth looked to Smith. 
 A fray gave the hero and the victim of the hundred days his 
 opportunity. 
 
 In 1819 a battalion commanded by some Royalist officers, 
 lads just out of Maison Rouge, marched through Issoudun on 
 their way to relieve the garrison at Bourges. Not knowing 
 what to do in such a constitutional town, the officers went to 
 pass the time at the Cafe Militaire. There is such a resort 
 for soldiers in every provincial town. That of Issoudun, 
 standing in a corner of the parade-ground under the walls, 
 and kept by the widow of an officer, naturally served as a 
 sort of club for the Bonapartists of the place, half-pay officers 
 and others who were of Max's way of thinking, and who 
 were allowed, by the feeling of the town, to display their 
 adoration of the Emperor. After 1S16 a banquet was held 
 at Issoudun every year to celebrate the anniversary of Napo- 
 leon's coronation. 
 
 The first three Royalists who dropped in asked for news- 
 papers, naming, among others, the Quotidienne and the Dra- 
 peau blanc. But the opinions of the town, and especially of 
 the Cafe Militaire, did not encourage Royalist newspapers. 
 The cafe could only produce the Commerce, the name as- 
 sumed for a few years by the Constitutionnel when that paper 
 was suppressed by law. But since, in the first number pub- 
 lished under that title, its leader opened with these words, 
 "The Commerce is essentially constitutional in its views," it 
 was still familiarly called the Constitutionnel. Every sub- 
 scriber at once saw the joke which bid them pay no attention
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 123 
 
 to the name over the door ; the wine would be of the old tap. 
 The stout mistress perched at her desk told the Royalists 
 that she had not the papers they asked for. 
 
 " What papers do you take then ? " said one of the officers, 
 a captain. 
 
 The waiter, a small youth in a blue cloth jacket and a 
 coarse linen apron, produced the Commerce. 
 
 " Oh ! so that is your paper ! Have you no other ? " 
 
 " No," said the waiter, " that is the only one." 
 
 The captain tore the hostile sheet into fragments, threw it 
 on the floor, and spat upon it, saying, " Bring the dominoes ! " 
 
 Within ten minutes news of the insult offered to the Con- 
 stitutional opposition and liberalism generally in the person 
 of the sacrosanct paper, which waged war on the priesthood 
 with the courage and wit we all know, was flying along the 
 streets and flashing like light into every house ; every one 
 was telling the tale. The same sentence rose to every lip : 
 " Run and tell Max ! " 
 
 Max was soon informed. The officers had not finished 
 their game of dominoes when Max, accompanied by Major 
 Potel and Captain Renard, entered the cafe ; while a follow- 
 ing of thirty young fellows, eager to see the end of the 
 matter, remained, for the most part, outside in groups on the 
 Parade. The cafe was soon full. 
 
 "Waiter, bring me my paper," said Max very quietly. 
 Then a little comedy was played. The stout woman said in 
 a timid and conciliatory tone — 
 
 " I have loaned it, captain." 
 
 " Go and fetch it ! " cried one of Max's companions. 
 
 "Can you not do without the paper?" said the waiter. 
 "We have it not." 
 
 The young officers were laughing and stealing side-glances 
 at the town party. 
 
 "It is torn up!" exclaimed a young Bonapartist, looking 
 at the captain's feet.
 
 124 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 "Who has dared to tear up the newspaper?" asked Max 
 in a voice of thunder, his eyes flashing, and his arms crossed 
 as he rose. 
 
 " And we have spit upon it, too," replied the three Royal- 
 ists, rising and facing Max. 
 
 "You have insulted the whole town ! " said Max, turning 
 pale. 
 
 " Well, what of that?" said the youngest of the three. 
 
 With a neatness, a boldness, and a swiftness which the 
 young men could not guard against, Max dealt two slaps to 
 the foremost man as they stood, saying — 
 
 " Do you understand French?" 
 
 They went out to fight in the Allee de Frapesle, three 
 against three. Potel and Renard would not hear of allowing 
 Max to fight it out alone with the Royalists. Max killed his 
 man ; Potel wounded his so severely that the unhappy lad, a 
 man of good birth, died next day in the hospital, whither 
 they carried him. As for the third, he got off with a sword- 
 cut, and wounded Captain Renard, his opponent. The bat- 
 talion went on to Bourges that night. This affair, much 
 talked about in the country, crowned Maxence Gilet as a hero. 
 
 The Knights of Idlesse, all young — the eldest was not five- 
 and-twenty — admired Maxence. Some of them, far from 
 sharing the rigid prudery of their families with regard to Max, 
 envied him greatly, and thought him a very fortunate man. 
 Under such a leader the order did wonders. From the 
 month of January, 1817, not a week passed but the town was 
 in a pother over some fresh prank. Max, as a point of honor, 
 imposed certain conditions on the knights; by-laws were 
 drawn up. These young devils became as prompt as disciples 
 of Amoros, as tough as kites, skilled in every kind of exer- 
 cise, as strong and as dexterous as malefactors. They were 
 adepts in the business of creeping over roofs, scaling house- 
 walls, jumping and walking without a sound, spreading 
 mortar, and building up doors. They had an arsenal of
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 125 
 
 ladders, ropes, tools, and disguises. The Knights of Idlesse, 
 in short, achieved the very ideal of ingenious mischief, not 
 only in the execution, but in the invention of the tricks they 
 played. They were at last inspired by that genius of malig- 
 nity in which Panurge took such delight, which provokes 
 every one to laugh, and makes the victim so ridiculous that 
 he dare not complain. The men, all respectably connected, 
 had, of course, means of information in private houses which 
 enabled them to obtain such intelligence as could serve them 
 in the perpetration of their rascality. 
 
 One very cold night these demons incarnate carried a large 
 stove out into the courtyard of a house, and stoked it so 
 effectually, that the fire lasted till morning. Then it was 
 rumored in the town that Monsieur So-and-so (a noted miser !) 
 had been trying to warm his yard. 
 
 Sometimes they lay in ambush in the High Street, or the 
 Rue Basse, the two arteries, as it were, of the town, into 
 which run a great number of smaller cross-streets. Squatting, 
 each at the corner of a side street, under the wall, putting 
 their heads out when every household was in its first sleep, 
 they would shout in a tone of terror from one end of the town 
 to the other — 
 
 "What is the matter? Oh, what is the matter?" The 
 repeated question would rouse the citizens, who soon appeared 
 in their shirts and night-caps, candle in hand, catechizing 
 each other, and holding the strangest colloquies with the 
 most bewildered faces ever seen. 
 
 There was a poor bookbinder, very old, who believed in 
 demons. Like most provincial artisans, he worked in a little 
 low shop. The knights, disguised as devils, invaded his shop 
 at night, put him into his waste-paper box, and left him 
 shrieking like three men at the stake. The poor man roused 
 all the neighbors, to whom he related these apparitions of 
 Lucifer, and the neighbors could never undeceive him. The 
 binder very nearly went mad.
 
 126 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 In the depth of a severe winter the confederates demolished 
 the chimney-pot of the tax-collector, and replaced it in the 
 course of the night; it was exactly the same; they made no 
 noise, and left not the slightest trace of their work. The 
 chimney was, however, so arranged inside as to fill the room 
 with smoke. The tax-collector endured this for two months 
 before discovering why his chimney, which had always worked 
 properly and given him perfect satisfaction, should play such 
 tricks ; and he had to reconstruct it in order to fully remedy 
 the difficulty. 
 
 One day they stuffed trusses of straw sprinkled with sulphur 
 and greasy paper into the chimney of an old bigot, a friend 
 of Madame Hochon's. Next morning, on lighting her fire, 
 the poor old lady, a quiet, gentle creature, thought she had 
 lighted a volcano. The firemen came, the whole town rushed 
 in ; and as there were among the firemen some of the Knights 
 of Idlesse, they deluged the poor soul's house, and put her in 
 fear of drowning after the fear of fire. She fell ill of the 
 shock. 
 
 When they wished to keep any one up all night, under 
 arms and in mortal terror, they sent anonymous letters warn- 
 ing him of a plan to rob him ; then they crept one by one 
 under his wall or past his windows, whistling signals to each 
 other. 
 
 One of their most successful hoaxes, which amused the 
 town hugely, and is talked of to this day, was sending to all 
 the possible heirs of a very miserly old woman, who was 
 expected to leave a large fortune, a few lines announcing her 
 death, and inviting them to come punctually at a certain 
 hour, when seals would be affixed. About eighty persons 
 arrived from Vatan, Saint-Florent, Vierzon, and the neigh- 
 borhood, all in deep mourning, but in very good spirits — men 
 with their wives, widows with their sons, children with their 
 parents, some in gigs, some in basket-carriages, some in old 
 tax-carts. Imagine the scenes between the old lady's servant
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. VL1 
 
 and the first comers ! Then the consultations at the lawyers ! 
 It was like a riot in the town. 
 
 At last one day the sous-prefet began to think this state of 
 things intolerable, all the more so because it was impossible 
 to ascertain who ventured to perpetrate these pleasantries. 
 Suspicion, indeed, rested on the guilty youths; but as the 
 National Guard was at that time a mere name at Issoudun, as 
 there was no garrison, and as the lieutenant of police had not 
 more than eight gendarmes at his command, and kept no 
 patrol, it was impossible to obtain proofs. The sous-prefet 
 was at once placed on " the order of the night," to be treated 
 as obnoxious. This functionary was in the habit of eating 
 two new-laid eggs for breakfast. He kept fowls in his yard, 
 and he crowned his mania for eating new-laid eggs by insist- 
 ing on cooking them himself. Neither his wife, nor the maid, 
 nor any one, according to him, could cook an egg as it ought 
 to be done ; he watched the clock, and boasted that in this 
 particular he could beat all the world. For two years he had 
 boiled his own eggs with a success that was the subject of 
 much jesting. Then, every night for a month, the eggs were 
 taken from his hens and hard-boiled eggs put in their place. 
 The poor man was at his wits' end, and lost his reputation as 
 the egg-boiling sous-prefet. Finally, he had something else 
 for breakfast. 
 
 Still, he never suspected the Knights of Idlesse ; the trick 
 was too neatly done. Max hit on a plan for greasing his 
 stove-pipes every night with oil saturated with such vile odors 
 that it was impossible to live in the house. Nor was this all ; 
 one morning his wife, wishing to attend mass, found her 
 shawl stuck together inside by some glue so tenacious that she 
 was obliged to go without it. The official begged to be trans- 
 ferred. His cowardice and submission established beyond 
 question the occult and farcical sway of the Knights of Idlesse. 
 
 Between the Rue des Minimes and the Place Misere there 
 existed at that time a part of the town enclosed between the
 
 128 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 "borrowed stream " at the bottom and the rampart above — 
 the part extending from the Parade to the crockery market. 
 This sort of misshapen square was occupied by wretched-look- 
 ing houses, closely packed and divided by alleys so narrow 
 that two persons could not walk abreast. This part of the 
 town, a sort of court of miracles, was inhabited by poor peo- 
 ple, or such as carried on the least profitable trades, lodging 
 in the hovels and wretched tenements expressively designated 
 as maisoti borgnes — purblind houses. It was, no doubt, at all 
 times a spot accursed, the den of evil livers, for one of these 
 lanes is called Rue du Bourreau, or Hangman's Alley. It is 
 certain that the town executioner had here his house, with its 
 red door, for more than five centuries. The executioner's 
 man lives there still, if public report may be believed, for the 
 townspeople never see him. None but the vine-dressers keep 
 up any communication with this mysterious personage, who 
 inherits from his predecessors the gift of healing fractures and 
 wounds. The women of the town held high festival here of 
 old, when the place gave itself the airs of a capital. Here 
 dwelt the dealers in second-hand articles, which never seem 
 to find a buyer ; old-clothes vendors, with their malodorous 
 display; in short, all the mongrel population that herds in 
 some such corner of almost every town, under the dominion 
 of one or two Jews. 
 
 At the corner of one of these dark passages, in the least 
 dead-alive part of the suburb, there was, from r8i5 till 1823, 
 and perhaps even later, a beer-shop kept by a woman known 
 as Mother Cognette. The beer-shop occupied a house not ill 
 built of courses of white stone filled in with rubble and mor- 
 tar, and consisting of one story and an attic. Over the door 
 shone an immense branch of a fir-tree gleaming like Florentine 
 bronze. As if this "bush " were not sufficiently explicit, the 
 eye was caught by a blue board, fastened to the architrave, on 
 which the words "Good March beer" were legible above a 
 picture representing a soldier offering to a very lightly draped
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 129 
 
 woman a jet of foam spouting from a jug into the glass she 
 holds, and forming a curve like the arch of a bridge, the 
 whole so gorgeously colored as to make Delacroix faint. 
 
 The ground-floor consisted of a large front room, serving 
 both as kitchen and dining-room ; the provisions needed for 
 carrying on the business hung to hooks from the rafters. Be- 
 hind this room a ladder-stair went up to the second floor; but, 
 at the foot of the stairs, was a door opening into a small 
 narrow room, lighted from one of those provincial back-yards 
 which are more like a chimney, so narrow, dark, and high 
 are they. This little room, screened by a lean-to, and hidden 
 from all eyes by the surrounding walls, was the hall where the 
 Bad Boys of Issoudun held their full court. Old Cognet 
 ostensibly entertained the country people there on market 
 days ; in reality, he played host to the Knights of Idlesse. 
 
 This old Cognet, formerly a groom in some rich house, had 
 married La Cognette, originally a cook in a good family. 
 The suburb of Rome still uses a feminine form of the hus- 
 band's name for the wife, in the Latin fashion, as in Italy and 
 Poland. By combining their savings, Cognet and his wife 
 had been able to buy this house and set up as tavern-keepers. 
 La Cognette, a woman of about forty, tall and buxom, with 
 a turn-up nose, an olive skin, hair as black as jet, brown eyes, 
 round and bright, and an intelligent, merry face, had been 
 chosen by Maxence Gilet to be the Leonarde of the order for 
 the sake of her good-humor and her talents as a cook. Cog- 
 net himself was about fifty-six, thick-set, submissive to his wife, 
 and, to quote the joke she constantly repeated, he could not 
 help seeing straight, for he was blind of one eye. 
 
 For seven years, from 1816 to 1823, neither husband nor 
 wife ever let out a word as to what was done or plotted every 
 night on their premises, and they were always very much 
 attached to all the knights. Their devotion was indeed per- 
 fect, but it may seem less admirable when we consider that 
 their interest was a guarantee for their silence and affection, 
 9
 
 130 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 At whatever hour of the night the members of the order 
 came to La Cognette's, if they knocked in a particular way, 
 Father Cognet, recognizing the signal, rose, lighted the fire 
 and the candles, opened the door, and went to the cellar for 
 wine laid in expressly for the order, while his wife cooked 
 them a first-rate supper, either before or after the exploits 
 planned the night before, or during the day. 
 
 While Madame Bridau was on her way from Orleans to 
 Issoudun, the Knights of Idlesse were preparing one of their 
 most famous tricks. An old Spaniard, a prisoner of war, 
 who, at the peace, had remained in France, where he carried 
 on a small trade in seeds, had come to market early, and had 
 left his empty cart at the foot of the tower. Maxence was 
 the first to arrive at the meeting-place fixed for the evening 
 under the tower, and was presently asked in a low voice, 
 " What is doing to-night? " 
 
 "Old Fario's cart is out there," replied he. "I almost 
 broke my nose against it. Let us get it up the knoll to the 
 foot of the tower, and after that we will see." 
 
 When Richard built the tower of Issoudun, he founded it, 
 as has been said, on the remains of a basilica which occupied 
 the site of the Roman temple and the Celtic Dun. These ruins, 
 each representing a long series of centuries, formed a large 
 mound, full of the monuments of three ages. Thus Richard 
 Cceur de Lion's tower stands on the top of a cone sloping 
 equally steep on all sides, and to be ascended only by zig- 
 zag paths. To represent its position in a few words, the tower 
 may be compared to the obelisk of Luxor on its base. The 
 base of the tower of Issoudun, concealing so many archseologi- 
 cal treasures as yet unknown, is above eighty feet high on 
 the side next the town. In an hour the cart had been taken 
 to pieces and hoisted bit by bit to the top of the hill at the 
 foot of the tower, by means of something like that of the 
 soldiers who carried the guns up the pass of Saint-Bernai .
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 131 
 
 The cart was put together again, and all traces of the opera- 
 tions so carefully effaced that it would seem to have been 
 carried there by the devil, or by a stroke of a fairy's wand. 
 After this great achievement, the knights, being hungry and 
 thirsty, made their way to La Cognette's, and were soon seated 
 round the table in the low narrow room, laughing by anticipa- 
 tion at the face Fario would make when, at about ten o'clock 
 in the morning, he should go to look for his cart, now so 
 loftily elevated. 
 
 The knights, of course, did not play these antics every 
 night. The talents of Sganarelle, Mascarille, and Scapin 
 rolled into one would not have been able to invent three 
 hundred and sixty-five practical jokes a year. In the first 
 place, circumstances were not always favorable : the moon 
 was too bright, or their last prank had been too annoying to 
 sober folks, or one or another would refuse his cooperation 
 when some relation was the chosen victim. But, though the 
 rascals did not meet every night at La Cognette's, they saw 
 each other every day, and were companions in such lawful 
 pleasures as hunting or the vintage in autumn, and skating in 
 winter. 
 
 Among this group of a score of youths who thus protested 
 against the social somnolence of the town, some were more 
 especially intimate with Max than the others, or made him 
 their idol. A man of this temper often infatuates those 
 younger than himself. Now Madame Hochon's two grand- 
 sons, Francois Hochon and Baruch Borniche, were his devo- 
 tees. The two boys regarded Max as almost a cousin, accept- 
 ing the views of the neighbors as to his left-handed relationship 
 to the Lousteaus. Max was free with his loans of money 
 denied them by their grandfather Hochon for their amuse- 
 ments ; he took them out shooting, and gave them some 
 training ; in fact, his influence over them was paramount to 
 that of home. They both were orphans, and, though of age, 
 lived under the guardianship of their grandfather, in conse-
 
 132 A BACHELORS ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 quence of certain circumstances to be explained when the 
 great Monsieur Hochon appears on the scene. 
 
 At this moment Francois and Baruch — we will call them by 
 their Christian names to make the story clearer — were seated, 
 one on the right hand, and one on the left of Max, at the 
 middle of the supper-table, that was wretchedly lighted by the 
 fuliginous glimmer of four dips, eight to the pound. The 
 party, consisting of not more than eleven of the knights, had 
 drunk a dozen to fifteen bottles of various wines. Baruch, 
 whose name suggests a survival of Calvinism at Issoudun, said 
 to Max at the moment when the wine had set all tongues 
 wagging— 
 
 "You are about to be threatened at the very centre " 
 
 " What do you mean by that ? " asked Max. 
 
 " Why, my grandmother has had a letter from Madame 
 Bridau, her goddaughter, announcing her arrival on a visit 
 with her son. My grandmother arranged two rooms yester- 
 day for their reception." 
 
 " And what is that to me? " said Max, taking up his glass, 
 emptying it at a gulp, and setting it down on the table with a 
 comical flourish. 
 
 Max was now four-and-thirty. One of the candles stood 
 near him, and cast its light on his martial countenance, illu- 
 minating his forehead, and showing off his fair complexion, 
 his flashing eyes, and his hair crisply waved, and as black as 
 jet. This hair stood up strongly and naturally, curling back 
 from his brow and temples, and clearly marking the outline 
 of growth which our grandfathers called the five points. 
 Notwithstanding such a striking contrast of black and white, 
 Max had a very sweet face, deriving its charm from its shape, 
 much like that given by Raphael to his Virgins' faces, and 
 from a finely-shaped mouth, on which a gentle smile was apt 
 to linger, a set expression which Max had gradually adopted. 
 The fine color that flushes the faces of the Berrichons added 
 to his genial look, and when he laughed outright he displayed
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 133 
 
 two-and-thirty teeth worthy to grace the mouth of a fine lady. 
 He was tall and well proportioned, neither stout nor thin. 
 His hands, kept with care, were white and not unshapely, but 
 his feet were those of the Roman suburb, of a foot soldier 
 under the Empire. He would have made a fine general of 
 division ; he had shoulders that would have been the fortune 
 of a field-marshal, and a breast broad enough to display all 
 the orders of Europe. Intelligence gave purpose to all his 
 movements. And then, attractive by nature, like almost all 
 children of a passion, the noble blood of his real father came 
 out in him. 
 
 " But do you not know, Max," cried a youth at the bot- 
 tom of the table, the son of a retired surgeon-major named 
 Goddet, the best doctor in the town, "that Madame 
 Hochon's goddaughter is Rouget's sister? And if she and 
 her son the painter are coming here, it is no doubt to get 
 back her share of the old man's fortune, and then good-by to 
 your harvest ! " 
 
 Max frowned. Then with a glance that went from face to 
 face all round the table, he studied the effect on his com- 
 panions of this address, and again he said, "What is that to 
 me?" 
 
 " But," Francois began again, " it seems to me that if old 
 Rouget were to alter his will, supposing he has made one in 
 favor of La Rabouilleuse " 
 
 Here Max cut his faithful follower short with these words — 
 
 " When, on my arrival here, I heard you mentioned as one 
 ] of the cinq-Hochons (cinq-cochons = five pigs), as the pun on 
 your name has it — and has had it these thirty years — I told 
 the man who called you so to shut up, my dear Francois, and 
 that so emphatically, that no one at Issoudun has ever re- 
 peated that idiotic jest, at any rate not in my presence ! And 
 this is the return you make : you make use of a name of con- 
 tempt in speaking of a woman you know me to be attached 
 to."
 
 134 A BACHELOR S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 Never had Max said so much as to his intimacy with the 
 woman of whom Francois had just spoken by the nickname 
 commonly given to her in Issoudun. As a former prisoner 
 on the hulks, Max had enough experience, and as major in the 
 Grenadier Guards he had learned enough of honor, to under- 
 stand the origin of the contempt for him in the town. He 
 had never allowed any one whatever to say a word to him 
 with reference to Mademoiselle Flore Brazier, Jean-Jacques 
 Rouget's servant-mistress, so vigorously designated by good 
 Madame Hochon as a hussy. Moreover, Max was well 
 known to be too touchy to be spoken to on the subject unless 
 he began it, and he never had begun it. In short, it was too 
 dangerous to incur Max's anger or displeasure for even his 
 most intimate friends to banter him about La Rabouilleuse. 
 
 When something was once said of a connection between 
 Max and this girl in the presence of Major Potel and of 
 Captain Renard, the two officers with whom he lived on 
 terms of equality, Potel had replied — 
 
 "If he is Jean-Jacques Rouget's half-brother, why should 
 he not live with him ? " 
 
 " And besides," added Renard, " the girl is a morsel for a 
 king ; supposing he loves her, where is the harm ! Does not 
 young Goddet pay court to Madame Fichet to make the 
 daughter his wife as a reward for such a penance ? " 
 
 After this well-merited lecture, Francois could not recover 
 the thread of his ideas, and he was yet more at fault when 
 Max gently added — 
 
 "Well, go on " 
 
 " Certainly not ! " cried Francois. 
 
 "You are angry for nothing, Max," said young Goddet. 
 " Is it not an understood thing that here, at La Cognette's, 
 we may all say what we please? Should we not all become 
 the mortal foes of any one of us who remembered outside 
 these walls anything that is said, thought, or done here ? 
 All the town speaks of Flore Brazier by the nickname of La
 
 A BACHELOR'?, ESTABLISHMENT. 135 
 
 Rabouilleuse ; if Francois let it slip out by accident, is that a 
 crime against the Order of Idlesse? " 
 
 "No," said Max, " only against our personal friendship. 
 But I thought better of it ; I remembered we were in Idlesse. 
 I told him to go on." 
 
 There was utter silence. The pause was so uncomfortable 
 for all present that Max exclaimed : " I will go on for him " 
 (sensation), "for all of you" (amazement), "and tell you 
 what you are thinking " (great sensation). "You think that 
 Flore, La Rabouilleuse, Flore Brazier, Daddy Rouget's house- 
 keeper — for they call him Pere Rouget ! — an old bachelor, 
 who will never have any children ! — you think, I say, that 
 this woman has supplied me with everything since I came to 
 Issoudun. If I have three hundred francs a month to toss 
 out of the window ; if I can treat you often as I am doing this 
 evening, and have money to lend to you all, I must get the 
 cash out of Madame Brazier's purse? Well, then, by heaven ! 
 Yes, and again yes. Yes, ' Mademoiselle Brazier has taken 
 deadly aim at the old man's fortune." 
 
 " From father to son she will have richly earned it," said 
 Goddet in his corner. 
 
 "You believe," Max went on, after smiling at Goddet's 
 remark, " that I have laid a plot to marry Flore after the old 
 man's death, and that then his sister, and this son, of whom 
 I never heard till this instant, will endanger my future pros- 
 pects? " 
 
 "That's it," cried Francois. 
 
 " So we all think round this table," said Baruch. 
 
 "Well, be calm, my boys," replied Max; "forewarned is 
 forearmed. Now, I speak to the Knights of Idlesse. If, to 
 be rid of these Parisians, I need the support of the order, will 
 you lend me a hand ? Oh, within the limits we have pre- 
 scribed for our pranks," he quickly added, seeing a slight 
 hesitancy. " Do you suppose I want to murder or poison 
 them ? Thank God, I am not a fool ! And supposing, after
 
 ISO A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 all, that the Bridaus should win the day, and Flore should get 
 no more than she has, I should be satisfied with that, do you 
 hear? I like her well enough to prefer her to Mademoiselle 
 Fichet, if Mademoiselle Fichet would have anything to say to 
 me!" 
 
 Mademoiselle Fichet was the richest heiress of Issoudun ; 
 and the daughter's hand formed a large item in young God- 
 det's passion for her mother. 
 
 Plain speaking is so precious, that the eleven knights rose 
 as one man. 
 
 "You are of the right sort, Max ! " 
 
 "That is something like, Max. We will be the knights of 
 salvation." 
 
 " Down with the Bridaus ! " 
 
 " We will bridle the Bridaus ! " 
 
 "After all, a sweetheart has been known to have three 
 husbands ! " 
 
 " Deuce take it, old Lousteau was fond of Madame Rouget, 
 and there is less harm in courting a housekeeper free and 
 unfettered ! " 
 
 " And if old Rouget was Max's father more or less, it is all 
 in the family ! " 
 
 " Opinions are free ! " 
 
 " Hurrah for Max ! " 
 
 " Down with cant ! " 
 
 " Let us drink the fair Flore's health ! " 
 
 Such were the eleven answers, acclamations, or toasts that 
 broke from the eleven Knights of Idlesse, the outcome, it 
 must be owned, of their very low standard of morality. We 
 see now what Max's object had been in establishing himself as 
 grand master of the order. While inventing practical jokes, 
 and making himself agreeable to the youth of the principal 
 families, Max hoped to secure their suffrages in the day of 
 his rehabilitation. He rose with a grace, lifted his glass full 
 of Bordeaux, and all awaited his next speech.
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 137 
 
 " For all the ill I wish you, I only hope you may all get 
 wives to compare with the fair Flore ! As to the incursion 
 of relations, for the present I am not alarmed ; and later, we 
 shall see ! " 
 
 " We must not forget Fario's cart ! " 
 
 " Oh, that is safe enough, by Jove ? " said Goddet. 
 
 " I will see to the fitting conclusion of that huge joke," 
 cried Max. " Be very early at the market, and come and let 
 me know at once when the old fellow comes to look for his 
 cart." 
 
 The clocks were striking half-past three in the morning; 
 the knights went away in silence to find their way home, 
 hugging the wall, and not making a sound, all being shod 
 with list shoes. 
 
 Max slowly walked up to the Place Saint-Jean in the upper 
 part of the town, between the Porte Saint-Jean and the Porte 
 Villate, the rich citizen's quarter. Major Gilet had dissem- 
 bled his fears, but this news had hit him hard. Since his 
 stay above or below decks he had acquired a power of dissim- 
 ulation as great and deep as his depravement. In the first 
 place, and above all, the forty thousand francs a year in land 
 owned by Rouget was the whole of Gilet's passion for Flore 
 Brazier, of that you may be sure ! It may easily be seen from 
 his mode of conduct what confidence she had led him to feel 
 in her future fortune, as based on the old bachelor's affection. 
 At the same time, the news that the legitimate heirs were on 
 their way was enough to shake Max's faith in Flore's influ- 
 ence. The savings of the last seventeen years still stood in 
 Rouget's name. Now if the will, which Flore declared had 
 long since been executed in her favor, should be revoked, 
 these savings at any rate might be secured if they were in- 
 vested in the name of Mademoiselle Brazier. 
 
 " In all these seven years that idiot of a girl has never 
 spoken a word about nephews and a sister ! " said Max to 
 himself, as he turned out the Rue Marmouse into the Rue
 
 13S A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 l'Avenier. "Seven hundred and fifty thousand francs in the 
 hands of ten or twelve different notaries, at Bourges, Vierzon, 
 and Chateauroux, cannot be drawn out or invested in state 
 securities within a week without its being known in a land of 
 'jaw.' To begin with, we must pack off the relations; but 
 once quit of them, we must make haste and secure that for- 
 tune. Well, I must think it over." 
 
 Max was tired. He went into Rouget's house with a latch- 
 key, and crept noiselessly to bed, saying to himself, "To- 
 morrow my ideas will be clearer." 
 
 It will not be useless here to explain whence the Sultana 
 of the Place Saint-Jean had obtained the nickname of La 
 Rabouilleuse, and how she had gained the command of the 
 Rouget establishment. 
 
 As he had advanced in years, the old doctor, father of 
 Jean-Jacques and of Madame Bridau, had become aware of 
 his son's utter stupidity. He then held him very tight, trying 
 to force him into habits which would take the place of wis- 
 dom ; but by this means, without knowing it, he was preparing 
 him to be tame under the first tyrant that might succeed in 
 getting the halter around his neck. One day, as he rode 
 home from his rounds, the wily and vicious old man saw a 
 lovely little girl on the skirt of the water-meadow by the 
 avenue to Tivoli. On hearing the horse, the child rose 
 up from the bottom of one of the channels, which, seen 
 from the height of Issoudun, look like silver ribbons on a 
 green dress. Starting up like a naiad, the girl displayed to 
 the doctor one of the sweetest Virgin heads that ever painter 
 dreamed of. Old Rouget, who knew the whole neighbor- 
 hood, did not know this miracle of beauty. The child, 
 almost naked, wore a tattered and scanty petticoat full of 
 holes, and made of cheap woolen stuff, striped brown and 
 white. A sheet of paper, fastened down by an osier withy, 
 served her for a hat. Under this paper, scrawled over with
 

 
 WHERE DO YOU COME FROM, LITTLt 1EVER SAW 
 
 YOU BEFORE."
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 139 
 
 strokes and O's, fully justifying its name of scribbling paper, 
 was gathered up the most beautiful golden hair that any 
 daughter of Eve could desire, fastened in a twist with a horse's 
 currycomb. Her pretty sunburnt bosom, scarcely covered 
 by the rags of a handkerchief that had once been a bandana, 
 showed its whiteness below the sunburn. The petticoat, 
 pulled through between the legs and fastened by a coarse pin, 
 looked a great deal like a swimmer's bathing drawers. Her 
 feet and legs, visible through the clear water, were character- 
 ized by a slenderness worthy of the sculptors of the middle 
 ages. This fair body, from exposure to the sun, had a rosy 
 hue which was not ungraceful ; the neck and bosom were 
 worthy to be covered by a silken shawl. Finally, the nymph 
 had blue eyes, shaded by lashes whose expression would have 
 brought a painter or a poet to his knees. The doctor, enough 
 of an anatomist to know a lovely figure, perceived that all 
 the arts would be losers if this exquisite person were destroyed 
 by field labor. 
 
 "Where do you come from, little one? I never saw you 
 before," said the old doctor of sixty-two. 
 
 The scene took place in the month of September, 1799. 
 
 " I belong to Vatan," replied the girl. 
 
 On hearing a town accent, an ill-looking man, about two 
 hundred yards away, standing in the upper waters of the 
 stream, raised his head. 
 
 "Now, then, what are you at, Flore?" he called out. 
 "Jabbering there instead of working; all the basketful will 
 get off! " 
 
 "And what do you come here for from Vatan?" asked 
 the doctor, not troubling himself about this interruption. 
 
 " I rabouille for my Uncle Brazier there." 
 
 Rabouiller is a local word of Le Berry, which perfectly 
 describes the process it is meant to represent — the action of 
 stirring the waters of a brooklet by beating them with a sort 
 of large racket made of the branch of a tree. The crayfish,
 
 140 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 frightened by the commotion, of which they fail to see the 
 purpose, hastily escape up stream, and in their agitation rush 
 into the nets, which the poacher has placed at a proper dis- 
 tance. Flore Brazier held her racket, or rabouilloir, with the 
 unconscious grace of innocence. 
 
 " But has your Uncle got leave to fish for crayfish ? " 
 
 " Well, and aren't we under the Republic one and indivi- 
 sible ? " shouted Uncle Brazier from where he stood. 
 
 " We are under the Directory," said the doctor ; " and I 
 know of no law which will allow a man from Vatan to come 
 and fish within the limits of the commune of Issoudun." 
 Then he said to Flore, " Is your mother living, child ? " 
 
 " No, sir, and my father is in the hospital at Bourges ; he 
 went mad from a sunstroke on his head in the fields " 
 
 " How much do you earn ? " 
 
 " Five sous a day all the season for crayfish — I goes to 
 Braisne, ever so far, to beat the waters. Then in harvest- 
 time, I gleans; and in winter, I spins." 
 
 " You are about twelve, I suppose ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Would you like to come with me? You shall be well 
 fed, nicely dressed, have pretty shoes " 
 
 " No, no. My niece has got to stay wi' me. I have her in 
 charge before God and man," said Uncle Brazier, who had 
 come down to his niece and the doctor. " I am her guar- 
 dian, I am." 
 
 The doctor preserved his gravity, suppressing a smile, 
 which would certainly have been too much for any one else 
 at the sight of Uncle Brazier. This " guardian " had on a 
 peasant's broad hat, ruined by the sun and rain, riddled like 
 a cabbage leaf on which many caterpillars have resided, and 
 sewn up with white cotton. Under this hat was a dark hol- 
 low face, in which mouth, nose, and eyes were four darker 
 spots. His worn jacket was like a piece of patchwork, and 
 his trousers were of sacking.
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 141 
 
 "I am Doctor Rouget," said the physician; "and, since 
 you are the child's guardian, bring her to my house, Place 
 Saint-Jean ; it will not be a bad day's work lor you or for 
 her either." 
 
 And without another word, feeling quite sure that he should 
 see Uncle Brazier in due course with the pretty Rabouilleuse, 
 Doctor Rouget spurred his horse on the road to Issoudun. 
 And, in fact, just as he was sitting down to dinner, his cook 
 announced Citoyen and Citoyenne Brazier. 
 
 " Sit down," said the doctor to the uncle and niece. 
 
 Flore and her guardian, both barefoot, looked round the 
 doctor's dining-room with eyes amazed ; and this was why : 
 
 The house, inherited by Rouget from old Descoings, stands 
 in the middle of one side of the Place Saint-Jean, a long and 
 very narrow square planted with a few sickly-looking lime 
 trees. The houses here are better built than in any other part 
 of the town, and Descoings' is one of the best. This house, 
 facing Monsieur Hochon's, has three windows on the front 
 towards the square, on the second floor, and below them a car- 
 riage gate into the courtyard, behind which the garden lies. 
 Under the archway of this carriage gate is a door into a large 
 room with two windows to the street. The kitchen is behind 
 this room, but cut off by a staircase leading to the second floor 
 and attics above. At an angle with the kitchen are a wood- 
 house, a shed where the washing is done, stabling for two 
 horses, and a coach-house; and above them are lofts for corn, 
 hay, and oats, besides a room where the doctor's manservant 
 slept. 
 
 The room, so much admired by the little peasant-girl and 
 her uncle, was decorated with carved wood in the stvle exe- 
 cuted under Louis XV., and painted gray, and a handsome 
 marble chimney-piece, above which Flore could see herself in 
 a large glass reaching to the ceiling, and set in a carved and 
 gilt frame. On the panels, at intervals, hung a few pictures, 
 the spoil of the abbeys of Deols, of Issoudun, of Saint-Gildas,
 
 142 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 of La Pree, of Chezal-Benoit, of Saint-Sulpice, and of the 
 convents of Bourges and Issoudun, which had formerly been 
 enriched by the liberality of kings and of the faithful with 
 precious gifts and the finest works of the Renaissance. Thus, 
 among the pictures preserved by Descoings and inherited by 
 Rouget, there was a Holy Family by Albano, a Saint Jerome 
 by Domenichino, a Head of Christ by Gian Bellini, a Virgin 
 by Leonardo da Vinci, Christ bearing the Cross by Titian, 
 from the Marchese di Belabre's collection — he who stood a 
 siege and had his head cut off under Louis XIII. ; a Lazarus 
 by Veronese, a Marriage of the Virgin by the Priest of Genoa, 
 two church pictures by Rubens, and a copy from Perugino by 
 Perugino himself, or by Raphael ; finally, two Correggios and 
 an Andrea del Sarto. The Descoings had chosen these from 
 among three hundred, the spoils of churches, not in the least 
 knowing their value, and selecting them solely for their better 
 condition. Several had not merely magnificent frames, but 
 were under glass. It was the beauty of the frames, and the 
 value which the panes seemed to suggest, that had led to their 
 choice. 
 
 Thus the furniture of the room was not devoid of the luxury 
 so much prized in our days, though not at that time valued at 
 Issoudun. The clock standing on the chimney-shelf between 
 two superb silver chandeliers was distinguished by a solemn 
 magnificence that betrayed the hand of Boule. The arm- 
 chairs in carved wood, fitted with worsted-work done by de- 
 vout ladies of rank, would be highly prized in these days, for 
 they all bore coronets and coats-of-arms. Between the two 
 windows stood a handsome console, brought from some cha- 
 teau, and on it an enormous Chinese jar, in which the doctor 
 kept his tobacco. 
 
 Neither Rouget, nor his son, nor the cook, nor the man- 
 servant took the least care of these treasures. They spit into 
 a fireplace of beautiful workmanship, and the gilt mouldings 
 were variegated with verdigris. A pretty chandelier, partly
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 143 
 
 of porcelain, was speckled like the ceiling, with black spots, 
 showing that the flies were at home there. The Descoings 
 had hung the windows with brocade curtains, stripped from 
 the bed of some abbot. To the left of the door a cabinet 
 worth some thousands of francs served as a sideboard. 
 
 "Now, Fanchette," said the doctor to his cook, "bring 
 two glasses, and fetch us something good." 
 
 Fanchette, a sturdy country servant, who was regarded as 
 superior even to La Cognette and the best cook in Issoudun, 
 flew with an alacrity that testified to the doctor's despotic rule, 
 and also to some curiosity on her part. 
 
 " What is an acre of vineland worth in your parts?" said 
 the doctor, pouring out a glass of wine for Brazier. 
 
 "A hundred crowns in hard cash." 
 
 "Well, leave your niece here as maidservant; she shall 
 have a hundred crowns for wages, and you, as her guardian, 
 shall take the money " 
 
 "Every year?" said Brazier, opening his eyes to the size 
 of saucers. 
 
 " I leave the matter to your conscience," replied the doctor. 
 " She is an orphan. Till she is eighteen Flore will have none 
 of the money." 
 
 " She is goin' on for twelve," said the uncle ; " that makes 
 it up to six acres of vineland. But she is sweetly pretty, as 
 mild as a lamb, very strong, very quick, very obedient. Poor 
 creetur, she was the apple of his eye to my poor brother." 
 
 " And I will pay a year in advance," said the doctor. 
 
 "Lord A'mighty, make it two years, and us'll consider it 
 settled. She will be better off with you than down at our 
 place, for my wife whacks her, she can't abide her. There's 
 only me that purtects her, poor dear little creetur — as inno- 
 cent as a new-born babe ! " 
 
 On hearing this speech, the doctor, struck by the word 
 innocent, signed to Uncle Brazier, and led him out into the 
 courtyard, and thence into the garden, leaving the little
 
 1-14 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 Rabouilleuse looking at the table between Fanchette and 
 Jean-Jacques, who cross-questioned her, and to whom she art- 
 lessly related her meeting with the doctor. 
 
 "Well, honey, good-by," said Uncle Brazier on his return, 
 kissing Flore on the forehead. "You may thank me for a 
 good job in leaving you with this kind and generous father 
 of the poor. You've got to obey him like as you would me. 
 Be a very good girl, and do what he tells you." 
 
 "Get the room over mine ready," said the doctor to Fan- 
 chette. "This little Flore, who is certainly well named, will 
 sleep there from this evening. To-morrow we will send for 
 a shoemaker and a needlewoman. Now, lay a place for her 
 at once ; she will keep us company." 
 
 That evening nothing was talked of in Issoudun but the 
 introduction of a little "rabouilleuse" into Doctor Rouget's 
 household. The nickname stuck to Mademoiselle Brazier in 
 this land of mocking spirits, before, during, and after her rise 
 to fortune. 
 
 The doctor aimed, no doubt, at doing for Flore, in a small 
 way, what Louis XV. did on a large scale for Mademoiselle 
 de Romans ; but he set to work too late. Louis XV. was still 
 a young man, while the doctor had arrived at the verge of old 
 age. 
 
 From twelve years old to fourteen the charming peasant- 
 girl enjoyed unmixed happiness. Nicely dressed, in infinitely 
 better clothes than the richest miss in Issoudun, she had a 
 gold watch and trinkets, given her by the doctor to encourage 
 her in her studies, for she had a master to teach her reading, 
 writing, and account-keeping. But the almost animal life led 
 by the peasantry had given Flore such an aversion for the 
 bitter cup of learning, that the doctor got no farther with her 
 education. 
 
 His intentions with regard to this girl whom he was polish- 
 ing, teaching, and training with a care that was all the more 
 pathetic, because he had been supposed incapable of tender-
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 145 
 
 ness, were variously interpreted by the vulgar gossips of the 
 town, whose tattle gave rise, as in the matter of Agathe's and 
 Max's parentage, to serious mistakes. It is not easy for the 
 population of a town to disentangle the truth from a thousand 
 conjectures in the midst of contradictory comments, and 
 among all the hypotheses to which a single fact gives rise. 
 In the provinces, as formerly among the politicians of la petile 
 Provence at the Tuileries, everything must be accounted for, 
 and at last everybody knows everything. But each indi- 
 vidual clings to the view of affairs that he prefers ; that is the 
 only true one, he can prove it, and believes his own version 
 exclusively. Hence, notwithstanding the unscreened life and 
 the espionage of a country town, the truth is often obscured, 
 and can be detected only by the impartiality of the historian, 
 or of a superior mind looking down from a higher point of 
 view. 
 
 " What do you suppose that old ape wants, at his age, of a 
 child of fifteen?" said one and another, two years after 
 Flore's arrival. 
 
 "What indeed?" replied a third; "his high days are 
 long since past and gone." 
 
 " My dear fellow, the doctor is disgusted with his idiot of a 
 son, and he cannot get over his hatred of Agathe ; in that 
 dilemma perhaps he has been such a good boy these two years 
 past in order to marry the girl ; and he might have a boy by 
 her, strong and sturdy and wide-awake like Max," observed 
 a wisehead. 
 
 " Get along ! Do you suppose that after leading such a 
 life as Lousteau and Rouget did between 1770 and 1787, a 
 man of sixty-two is likely to have children ? Not a bit of it : 
 the old wretch has read his Old Testament, if only from a 
 medical point of view, and he knows how King David 
 warmed himself in his old age. That is all, my good 
 fellow." 
 
 "They say that Brazier, when he is fuddled, boasts at 
 10
 
 146 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 Vatan that he stole the child," cried one of those people who 
 prefer to believe the worst. 
 
 "Bless me! neighbor, and what won't folks say at 
 Issoudun ? " 
 
 From 1800 to 1805, for five years, the doctor had the 
 pleasure of educating Flore without the worry which Made- 
 moiselle de Romans is said to have given to Louis the Well- 
 beloved by her ambitions and pretensions. The little " rabou- 
 illeuse " was so happy, comparing the position she now was in 
 with the life she would have led with her uncle, that she sub- 
 mitted, no doubt, to her master's requirements, as an eastern 
 slave does. 
 
 With all respect to the writers of idyls and to philanthro- 
 pists, the sons of the soil have but vague notions of certain 
 virtues ; their scruples have their root in self-interest, not in 
 any feeling for the good and beautiful ; brought up to look 
 forward to poverty, to incessant toil and want, the prospect 
 makes them regard everything as allowable that can rescue 
 them from the hell of hunger and everlasting labor, especially 
 if it is not prohibited by law. If there are exceptions, they 
 are rare. Virtue, socially speaking, is mated with ease, and 
 begins with education. Flore Brazier was, therefore, an 
 object of envy to every girl for six leagues round Issoudun, 
 though in the eye of religion her conduct was in the highest 
 degree reprehensible. 
 
 Flore, born in 1787, was brought up amid the Saturnalia of 
 1793 and 1798, whose lurid light was reflected on a land 
 bereft of priesthood, worship, altars, or religious ceremonies, 
 where marriage was a civil contract, and where revolutionary 
 axioms left a deep impression, especially at Issoudun, where 
 rebellion is traditional. Catholic worship was hardly re-estab- 
 lished in 1802. The Emperor had some difficulty in finding 
 priests; even in 1806 many a parisli in France was still in 
 widowhood, so slowly could a clergy decimated by the scaf- 
 fold be reinstated after such violent dispersal. Hence, in
 
 A BACHELOR S ESTABLISHMENT. 147 
 
 1802, there was nothing to accuse Flore but her own con- 
 science. In Uncle Brazier's ward was not conscience likely 
 to prove weaker than interest ? Though the cynical doctor's 
 age led him, as there is every reason to suppose, to respect 
 this maiden of fifteen, she was not the less regarded as a very 
 wide-awake young person. However, some people insisted 
 on finding a certificate of innocence in the cessation of the 
 doctor's care and kindness; for the last two years of his life 
 he treated her with more than coldness. 
 
 Old Rouget had killed enough people to be able to foresee 
 his own end. His notary, finding him on his death-bed, 
 wrapped in the cloak of encyclopedist philosophy, urged him 
 to do something for the young girl, then seventeen years old. 
 
 " Very good, make her of age, emancipate her," said he. 
 
 The reply is characteristic of this old man, who never failed 
 to point his sarcasm with an allusion to the profession of the 
 man he was answering. By veiling his evil deeds under a 
 witticism he obtained forgiveness for them in a part of the 
 world where wit always wins the day, especially when it is 
 backed up by intelligent self-interest. The notary heard in 
 this speech the concentrated hatred of a man whom nature 
 had balked of an intended debauch, and his revenge on the 
 innocent object of his senile affection. This opinion was, to 
 some extent, confirmed by the doctor's obduracy; he left 
 nothing to La Rabouilleuse, saying with a bitter smile, " Her 
 beauty is wealth enough ! " when the notary again pressed 
 the matter. 
 
 Jean-Jacques Rouget did not mourn for the old man, but 
 Flore did. The doctor had made his son very unhappy, espe- 
 cially since he had come of age, which was in 1791 ; whereas 
 he had given the little peasant-girl the material happiness 
 which is the ideal of laboring folk. When, after the old man 
 was buried, Fanchette said to Flore, "Well, what is to be- 
 come of you now that monsieur is gone? " Jean-Jacques' eyes 
 beamed, and for the first time in his life his stolid face lighted
 
 148 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 up, seemed to shine with a flash of thought, and expressed a 
 feeling. 
 
 " Leave her with me," said he to Fanchette, who was 
 clearing the table. 
 
 Flore, at seventeen, still had that refinement of figure and 
 face, that elegance of beauty which had bewitched the doctor; 
 women of the world know how to preserve it, but in a peasant- 
 girl it fades as swiftly as the flowers of the field. At the same 
 time, the tendency to become stout, which comes to all hand- 
 some countrywomen when they do not lead a life of toil and 
 privation in the open fields and sunshine, was already notice- 
 able in Flore. Her bust was large, her round, white shoulders 
 were richly moulded and finely joined to a throat that already 
 showed fat wrinkles. But the shape of her face was still pure, 
 and her chin as yet delicately cut. 
 
 "Flore," said Jean-Jacques in agitated tones, "you are 
 quite used to this house? " 
 
 "Yes, Monsieur Jacques." 
 
 On the very verge of a declaration, the heir felt his tongue 
 tied by the remembrance of the dead man but now laid in his 
 grave, and wondered to what lengths his father's benevolence 
 might have gone. Flore, looking at her new master, and 
 incapable of imagining his simplicity, waited for some minutes 
 for Jean-Jacques to proceed ; but she presently left him, not 
 knowing what to think of his obstinate silence. Whatever 
 education she might have had from the doctor, it was many a 
 day before she understood the character of his son, of whom 
 this, in a few words, is the history : 
 
 At his father's death Jacques, now thirty-seven years old, 
 was as timid and as submissive to parental discipline as any 
 boy of twelve. This timidity will account for his childhood, 
 youth, and life to such readers as might not otherwise be- 
 lieve in such a character, or the facts of a story which is com- 
 mon, alas ! in every rank of life — even among princes, for 
 Sophie Dawes was taken up by the last of the Condes in a
 
 A B A CHE LOU'S ESTABLISHMENT. 149 
 
 worse position than that of La Rabouilleuse. There are two 
 kinds of timidity — timidity of mind and timidity of the 
 nerves ; physical timidity and moral timidity. Each is inde- 
 pendent of the other. The body may be frightened and 
 quake while the mind remains calm and bold, and vice versa. 
 This is the key to many eccentricities of conduct. When 
 both kinds meet in the same man he will be good for nothing 
 all his life. This utter timidity is that of the person of whom 
 we say, "He is imbecile." Still, this imbecility sometimes 
 covers great qualities though suppressed. To this double in- 
 firmity perhaps do we owe certain monks who have lived in 
 ecstasy. This unhappy moral and physical disposition may 
 be produced by the perfection of the bodily organs and of the 
 soul, as well as by certain defects, as yet not fully studied. 
 
 Jean-Jacques' timidity arose from a certain torpor of his 
 faculties, which a first-rate tutor, or a surgeon like Desplein, 
 would have roused. In him, as in cretins, the sensual side of 
 love had absorbed the strength and energy which his intelli- 
 gence lacked, though he had sense enough to conduct himself 
 through life. The violence of his passsion, stripped of the 
 ideal, in which it blossoms in other young men, added to his 
 timidity. He never could make up his mind to go courting, 
 to use a familiar expression, to any woman in Issoudun. Now 
 no young girl or woman could make advances to an under- 
 sized man, with a vulgar face, which two prominent green- 
 gooseberry eyes would have made ugly enough, if pinched 
 features and a sallow complexion had not made him look old 
 before his time. In fact, the vicinity of a woman annihilated 
 the poor boy, who was goaded by his passion as vehemently 
 as he was bridled by the few notions he had derived from his 
 education. Halting between two equal forces, he did not 
 know what to say, and dreaded to be asked a question, so ter- 
 rified was he at having to reply. Desire, which generally 
 loosens a man's tongue, froze his. 
 
 So Jean-Jacques lived solitary and sought solitude, not
 
 150 A' BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 finding it irksome. The doctor saw, too late to remedy 
 them, the disastrous results of this temperament and character. 
 He would gladly have seen his son married ; but as that 
 would have been to subject him to a rule which would soon 
 be despotic, he could not but hesitate. -Would not that be 
 to hand over his fortune to the management of a stranger, an 
 unknown woman ? Now he well knew how difficult it is to 
 foresee, from a study of a young girl, exactly what the 
 woman's character may become. And so, while looking 
 about him for a daughter-in-law whose education or whose 
 ideas should be a sufficient guarantee, he tried to guide his 
 son into the paths of avarice. Failing intelligence, he hoped. 
 thus to give this simpleton a guiding instinct. He began by 
 accustoming him to a mechanical existence, and gave hint 
 fixed notions as to the investment of money ; then he spared 
 him the chief difficulties of the management of a landed estate* 
 by leaving all his lands in capital order, and let on long 
 leases. And for all that, the principal fact, which was to \>r 
 paramount in this poor creature's life, escaped the doctor'-.: 
 penetration — Jean-Jacques' was passionately in love with Lr 
 Rabouilleuse. 
 
 Nothing could, indeed, be more natural. Flore was thr 
 only woman with whom the young man came in contact, the 
 only woman he ever saw at his ease, gazing on her in secret, 
 and watching her from hour to hour ; for him Flore was the 
 light of his father's house ; without knowing it, she afforded 
 him the only pleasures that gilded his youth. Far from being , 
 jealous of his father, he was delighted by the education he 
 bestowed on Flore : was not the wife he needed an approach- 
 able woman who would need no courting ? For passion, be 
 it observed, brings insight with it ; it can give a sort of in- 
 telligence to simpletons, fools, and idiots, especially during 
 youth. In the least human soul we always find the animal 
 instinct which, in its persistency, is like a thought. 
 
 Next day, Flore, who had meditated on her master's
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 151 
 
 silence, expected some important communication ; but, 
 though he hovered about her, looking at her with covert, 
 amorous glances, Jean-Jacques found nothing to say. At 
 last, at dessert, the master began again as he had begun 
 yesterday. 
 
 " You are comfortable here ? " he asked Flore. 
 
 "Yes, Monsieur Jean." 
 
 "Well, stay then." 
 
 " Thank you, Monsieur Jean." 
 
 This strange state of things lasted for three weeks. One 
 night, when not a sound broke the stillness, Flore, waking 
 by chance, heard the regular breathing of a man at her door, 
 and was frightened at finding Jean-Jacques lying on the mat 
 like a dog, having, no doubt, made some little hole at the 
 bottom of the door to see into the room. 
 
 " He is in love with me," thought she; " but he will get 
 the rheumatism at this game." 
 
 Next day Flore looked at her master in a marked way. 
 This speechless and almost instinctive love had touched her; 
 she no longer thought the poor simple creature so hideous, 
 in spite of the ulcerlike spots on his temples and forehead, 
 the terrible coronal of vitiated blood. 
 
 "You do not want to go back to the open fields, I sup- 
 pose?" said Jean-Jacques, when they were alone. 
 
 " Why do you ask? " said she, look'ng at him. 
 
 "I wanted to know " replied Rouget, turning the color 
 
 of a boiled lobster. 
 
 " Do you want me to go? " she asked. 
 
 "No, mademoiselle." 
 
 "Well, then, what is it you want to know? You have 
 come reason " 
 
 "Yes, I wanted to know " 
 
 " What?" said Flore. 
 
 " You would not tell me." 
 
 " Yes, on my word as an honest woman."
 
 152 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 "Ah! That is the point," said Rouget, alarmed. "You 
 are an honest woman? " 
 
 "By heaven! " 
 
 " Yes— really ? " 
 
 "Since I say it " 
 
 "Come, now. Are you the same now as you were 
 when you stood there barefoot, brought here by your 
 uncle?" 
 
 " A pretty question, on my word ! " exclaimed Flore, 
 reddening. 
 
 The heir bent his head in silence, and did not look up 
 again. Flore, astounded at finding her reply, so flatter- 
 ing to the man, received with such consternation, left the 
 room. 
 
 Three days later, at the same hour, for they both seemed 
 to regard the dessert as the scene of battle, Flore was the 
 first to say to her master, " Are you vexed with me for 
 anything? " 
 
 " No, mademoiselle," he replied. " No on the con- 
 trary " 
 
 "You seemed so much annoyed the other day at hearing 
 that I was an honest girl " 
 
 "No; I only wanted to know but you would not tell 
 
 me. 
 
 " On my honor," said she, " I will tell you the whole truth." 
 
 "The whole truth about my father " said he in a 
 
 choked voice. 
 
 "Your father," said she, looking straight into her master's 
 
 eyes, "was a good fellow; he loved a laugh Well, a 
 
 little Poor dear man, it was not for want of will. And 
 
 then he had some grievance against you, I don't know what, 
 and he had intentions — oh ! unfortunate intentions. He often 
 made me laugh ; well ! that is all. And what then?" 
 
 " Well, then, Flore," said the heir, taking the girl's hand, 
 " since my father was nothing to you "
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 153 
 
 "Why, what did you suppose he was to me ? " she ex- 
 claimed, in the tone of a girl offended by an insulting sugges- 
 tion. 
 
 "Well, then, listen to me." 
 
 " He was my benefactor, that was all. Ah ! he would have 
 liked to make me his wife but " 
 
 "But," said Rouget, taking her hand again, for she had 
 pulled it away, "since he was nothing of the kind, you can 
 stay here with me? " 
 
 "If you like," said she, looking down. 
 
 "No, no. It is if you like, you," replied Rouget. "Yes, 
 you may be — mistress here. All that is here shall be yours; 
 you shall take care of my fortune ; it will be the same as your 
 own. For I love you, and I always have loved you, from the 
 moment when you first came in here — there — barefoot." 
 
 Flore made no reply. The silence became awkward, and 
 Jean-Jacques then uttered this odious argument — 
 
 " Come, it would be better than going back to the fields, 
 wouldn't it?" he asked with manifest eagerness. 
 
 " Dame ! Monsieur Jean, as you please," said she. 
 
 But, notwithstanding this "as you please," poor Rouget 
 was no forwarder. Men of that type must have a certainty. 
 The effort i f is to them to confess their love is so great, and 
 costs them so dear, that they know they can never do it again. 
 Hence their attachment to the first woman who may accept 
 them. 
 
 Events can only be inferred from the results. Ten months 
 after his father's death, Jean-Jacques was another man ; his 
 pallid, leaden-hued face, disfigured by little boils on the 
 temples and forehead, had lighted up, grown clear-skinned 
 and acquired a rosy tinge. His countenance shone with 
 happiness. Flore insisted on her master taking the greatest 
 care of his person, and made it a point of honor to herself 
 that he should be neatly dressed ; she would look after him as 
 he went out for a walk, standing on the doorstep till he was
 
 154 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 out of sight. All the town observed this alteration, which 
 had made a new creature oi the heretofore careless and indif- 
 ferent Jean -Jacques Rouget. 
 
 "Have you heard the news?" asked one and another in 
 Issoudun. 
 
 "Why— what?" 
 
 "Jean has inherited everything from his father, even La 
 Rabouilleuse ' ' 
 
 " Did you suppose that the old doctor was not sharp enough 
 to leave his son a housekeeper ? ' ' 
 
 " She is a perfect treasure for Rouget, that is certain," was 
 the general cry. 
 
 " She is a crafty one ! She is very handsome ; she will 
 make him marry her„" 
 
 " What luck that girl has had ! " 
 
 " It is the luck that only comes to handsome girls." 
 
 " Pooh, nonsense ! So you fancy. But there was my uncle, 
 Borniche-Herau; well, you have heard him speak of Made- 
 moiselle Ganivet ; she was as ugly as the seven deadly sins, 
 and he left her no less than a thousand crowns a year " 
 
 "Bah! that was in 177S ! " 
 
 " All the same, Rouget is a fool ; his father left him at least 
 forty thousand francs a year. He might have married Made- 
 moiselle Herau." 
 
 " The doctor tried that on, but she would have nothing to 
 say to it ; Rouget is too great an idiot " 
 
 "An idiot! Women are very happy with men of that 
 sort." 
 
 " Is your wife happy ? " 
 
 Such were the comments current in Issoudun. Though, 
 after the manners and customs of the provinces, the world 
 began by laughing at this quasi-marriage, it ended by admir- 
 ing Flore for devoting herself to this poor creature. This 
 was how Flore Brazier rose to sovereignty over the house of 
 Rouget, " from father to son," to quote the words of Goddet
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 155 
 
 junior. It will now be proper to sketch the history of her 
 rule for the better information of other bachelors. 
 
 The only person in Issoudun to complain of Flore Brazier's 
 installation as queen on Jean-Jacques Rouget's hearth was old 
 Fanchette ; she protested against such an immoral state of 
 affairs, and took the part of outraged decency. To be sure, 
 she felt humiliated at her age at having for her mistress a 
 rabouilleuse, a girl who had come to the house without a shoe 
 to her foot. Fanchette had three hundred francs a year from 
 securities in the funds, for the doctor had made her invest 
 her savings, and her late master had left her an annuity of a 
 hundred crowns, so she could live comfortably; and she left 
 the house nine months after her old master's funeral, on the 
 15th of April, 1S06. To the perspicacious reader, this will 
 seem to mark the date when Flore ceased to be "an honest 
 girl." 
 
 La Rabouilleuse, keen enough to foresee Fanchette's defec- 
 tion — for there is nothing like exercise of power to inculcate 
 politics — had made up her mind to do without a maid. For 
 the last six months she had, without betraying it, been study- 
 ing the culinary arts which made Fanchette a cordon bleu 
 worthy to cater for a doctor. As epicures, doctors may rank 
 with bishops. Doctor Rouget had perfected Fanchette. In 
 the country the lack of occupation and the monotony of life 
 are apt to turn an active mind to cooking. Dinners are not 
 so luxurious as in Paris, but they are better ; the dishes are 
 studied and thought out. Buried in the country, there are 
 Caremes in petticoats, undiscovered geniuses, who know how 
 to turn out a simple dish of beans worthy of the approving 
 nod with which Rossini welcomes a perfectly successful effort. 
 
 The doctor, while studying for his degree at Paris, had 
 followed Rouelle's course of chemistry, and had picked up 
 some notions, which he turned to account in culinary chemis- 
 try. He is remembered at Issoudun for various improvements
 
 156 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 little known beyond the limits of Berry. He discovered that 
 an omelette is far more delicate when the white and yolk 
 of the eggs are not beaten together in the rough-and-ready fash- 
 ion in which most cooks perform the operation. By his recipe, 
 the white should be beaten to a stiff froth, and the yolk added 
 by degrees. Then it should not be cooked in a frying-pan, 
 but in a cagnard of china or earthenware. A cagnard is a 
 sort of thick dish on four feet, which, when it is placed on 
 the charcoal stove, allow the air to surround it, and so pre- 
 vent its cracking. In Touraine, the cagnard is called a cau- 
 qttemarre. Rabelais, I think, speaks of a cauquemarre for 
 cooking the coquecigrues, which shows the high antiquity of 
 the utensil. The doctor had also discovered a way of pre- 
 venting the burned flavor of brown sauce ; but this secret, 
 which he unfortunately kept in his own kitchen, has been lost. 
 Flore, born with the gift of frying and roasting, the two 
 arts which neither study nor experience can acquire, was soon 
 Fanchette's superior. In making herself a cordon bleu, she was 
 thinking of Jean-Jacques' comfort ; still, she too, it must be 
 owned, was not a little greedy. Like all uneducated persons, 
 being unable to occupy her brain, she expended her energies 
 in the house. She rubbed up the furniture, restored its lustre, 
 and kept everything throughout the house in a state of clean- 
 liness worthy of Holland. She directed the avalanches of 
 dirty linen, and the deluge known as a great wash, which, in 
 the French provinces, takes place but three times a year. 
 She examined the linen with a housewifely eye, and mended 
 it with care. Then, anxious to initiate herself by degrees 
 into the secrets of wealth, she mastered the small knowledge 
 of business possessed by Rouget, and increased it by talking 
 with Monsieur Heron, the late doctor's notary. Thus she 
 could give her little Jean-Jacques excellent advice. Sure, as 
 she was, of remaining mistress of the position, she nursed the 
 poor fellow's interests with as much care and parsimony as if 
 they had been her own. She had nothing to fear from her
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 157 
 
 uncle's demands. Two months after the doctor's death, 
 Brazier died of a fall as he came out of the tavern where, 
 since fortune had visited him, he passed all his time. Flore's 
 father was also dead ; thus she served her master with all the 
 affection due from an orphan who was happy to be able to 
 make herself a home and find some interest in life. 
 
 This period was paradise to poor Jean-Jacques, who 
 acquired the easy habits of an animal existence, graced by a 
 sort of monastic regularity. He slept very late in the morn- 
 ing ; Flore, who was up at daybreak to buy provisions or do 
 the work of the house, woke her master in time for him to 
 find breakfast ready as soon as he was dressed. After break- 
 fast, at about eleven o'clock, Jean-Jacques took a walk, 
 chatted with any one he met, came home by three o'clock to 
 read the papers — that of the department, and a Paris paper, 
 which he received three days after publication, greasy from 
 thirty hands through which they had passed, dirty from the 
 snuffy noses that smeared them, brown from the many tables 
 they had lain on. Thus our bachelor got to the dinner-hour, 
 and he spent as long a time as he could over it. Flore told 
 him stories of the town, and all the current gossip she had 
 picked up. By eight o'clock the lights were out. Early to 
 bed is, in the country, a common form of saving in candles 
 and firing, but it tends to stupefy folks by an abuse of bed ; 
 too much sleep deadens and stultifies the mind. 
 
 Such, for nine years, was the life of these two beings — a 
 life at once busy and vacuous, of which the chief events were 
 a few journeys to Bourges, to Vierzon, to Chateauroux, or 
 even a little farther, when neither Monsieur Heron nor the 
 notaries of those towns had any mortgages to offer. Rouget 
 invested his money in first mortgages at five per cent., with 
 substitution in favor of the- wife when the lender should 
 marry. He never advanced more than a third of the real 
 value of the estate, and he had notes drawn to his order repre- 
 senting an additional two-and-a-half per cent., for dates at
 
 158 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 intervals during the loan. These were the rules impressed on 
 him by his father. Usury, the drag on peasant ambitions, is 
 eating up the land, and this charge of seven-and-a-half per 
 cent, seemed so reasonable, that Jean-Jacques Rouget could 
 pick and choose ; for the notaries, who extracted handsome 
 commissions from the clients for whom they got money so 
 cheap, would give the old fellow notice. 
 
 During these nine years, Flore, gradually, insensibly, and 
 without intending it, had acquired absolute dominion over 
 her master. From the first she treated Jean-Jacques with 
 great familiarity ; then, without failing in respect, she gained 
 the upper hand by such manifest superiority of intelligence 
 and power, that he became his servant's servant. This grown- 
 up child went half-way to meet this dominion, by allowing 
 himself to be so much waited on, that Flore treated him as a 
 mother treats her son. And at last his feeling for her was 
 that which makes a mother's care necessary to a child. But 
 there were other and far stronger bonds. In the first place, 
 Flore managed all business matters and carried on the house. 
 Jean-Jacques relied on her so absolutely for every kind of 
 stewardship that, without her, life would have seemed to him 
 not difficult, but impossible. The woman had also become 
 necessary to his existence ; she humored all his fancies — she 
 knew them so well ! He liked to see the happy face that 
 always smiled on him ; the only face that ever had smiled on 
 him, or that ever would smile on him ! Her happiness, 
 purely material, expressed by the common phrases that are 
 the backbone of language in the households of Berry, and 
 expansive in her splendid person, was, in a way, the reflection 
 of his own. The state into which Jean-Jacques collapsed 
 when he saw Flore clouded by some little annoyance betrayed 
 to the woman the extent of her power ; and she, to secure it, 
 would try to exert it. In women of that kind use always 
 means abuse. La Rabouilleuse, no doubt, made her master 
 play his part in some of the scenes that lie buried in the
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 159 
 
 mystery of private life, and of which Otway has shown a 
 specimen in the midst of his tragedy of " Venice Preserved " 
 between the Senator and Aquilina — a scene that gives the 
 magnificence of horror. And then Flore saw herself so 
 secure in her empire, that she never thought of getting the 
 old bachelor to marry her at this time ; unfortunately for 
 him and for herself. 
 
 By the end of 1S15, at the age of twenty-seven, Flore was 
 in the fullest bloom of her beauty. Buxom and fair, as 
 white-skinned as a farmeress of Bessin, she was the ideal of 
 what our forefathers would have called a splendid lass. 
 Her beauty, somewhat of the inn-servant order, but filled-out 
 and well fed, gave her some resemblance, apart from Made- 
 moiselle Georges' imperial beauty, to that actress at her best. 
 Flore had the same beautiful, dazzling white arms, the fullness 
 of outline, the pulpy sheen, the delicious modeling, but all 
 less classically severe. The expression of her face was tender 
 and sweet. Her eye could not command respect, like that of 
 the most beautiful Agrippine who has ever trod the boards of 
 the Theatre Francais since Racine's time ; it invited to 
 sensual joys. 
 
 In 18 16 La Rabouilleuse first saw Maxence Gilet, and fell 
 in love with him at first sight. Her heart was pierced by the 
 mythological dart — that admirable symbol of a natural fact 
 which the Greeks inevitably represented thus, having never 
 conceived of the chivalrous ideal and melancholy passion be- 
 gotten of Christianity. Flore was at this time too handsome 
 for Max to scorn such a conquest. And thus, at eight-and- 
 twenty, the girl first knew real love, idolatrous, infinite love, 
 the love which includes every mode of loving from that of 
 Gulnare to that of Medora. As soon as the penniless officer 
 understood the respective positions of Flore and Jean-Jacques 
 Rouget, he saw something better than a mere love affair in a 
 connection with La Rabouilleuse. And so, for the better
 
 160 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 security of his future prospects, he was more than content to 
 lodge under Rouget's roof, seeing how weakly a creature the 
 old fellow was. 
 
 Flore's passion could not fail to have its influence on Jean- 
 Jacques' life and surroundings. For a month Rouget, who 
 had become excessively afraid of her, saw Flore's smiling and 
 friendly face grown gloomy and cross. He endured the 
 brunt of intentional ill-temper exactly like a married man 
 whose wife is contemplating a betrayal. When in the midst 
 of her most spiteful outbreaks the hapless man made so bold 
 as to ask the cause of this change, her eyes flashed with fires 
 of hatred, and her voice was hard with aggressive tones of 
 scorn, such as poor Jean-Jacques had never met nor heard. 
 
 "By heaven ! " she exclaimed, "you have neither heart 
 nor soul. For sixteen years have I been wasting my youth 
 here, and I never discovered that you had a stone there! " 
 and she struck her heart. "For two months past you have 
 seen that brave major coming here, a victim to the Bourbons, 
 who was cut out for a general, and who is down on his luck, 
 driven into a hole of a place like this, where fortune is too 
 poor to go out walking. He is obliged to sit, stuck to a chair 
 all day in an office, to earn what? Six hundred wretched 
 francs — a handsome income ! And you, who have six hun- 
 dred and fifty-nine thousand francs in snug investments, and 
 sixty thousand francs a year — not to say that, thanks to me, 
 you don't spend a thousand crowns a year for everything in- 
 cluded, even my clothes — in short, everything — you never 
 think of offering him shelter here, where the whole top floor 
 is empty ! No, you would let the rats and mice keep up a 
 dance there rather than put a human being in, and he a man 
 your father always regarded as his son ! Do you want to 
 know what you are? Well, I will tell you — you are a fratri- 
 cide ! And you think I don't know why? You saw that I 
 felt an interest in him, and that settled you! For all that 
 you seem such blockhead, you have more cunning in you
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 161 
 
 than the cunningest, and that is what you are Very 
 
 well then, I do take an interest in him a warm one at 
 
 that " 
 
 "But, Flore " 
 
 "Oh, there is no 'but, Flore,' in the case. You may go 
 and look for another Flore — if you can find one ! For may 
 this glass of wine poison me if I don't turn out of your hovel 
 of a house ! I shall have cost you nothing, thank God, 
 during the twelve years I have stayed in it, and you have had 
 your comforts cheap ! Anywhere else I could have earned my 
 living by working as I do here : washing, ironing, taking care 
 of the linen, going to market, cooking, looking after your 
 interests in every way, slaving to death from morning till 
 night. And this is what I get ! " 
 
 "But, Flore " 
 
 " Oh, yes, Flore indeed ! A pretty Flore you will get, at 
 fifty-one, as you are, and in very bad health, and stooping so 
 that it is frightful to see — I know all about it. And with all 
 
 that you are not so very amusing " 
 
 "But, Flore " 
 
 "There, leave me in peace." 
 
 And she left the room, slamming the door with such vio- 
 lence that the house rang with it and seemed to shake on its 
 foundations. Jean-Jacques Rouget opened it very gently, 
 and more gently still went into the kitchen where Flore was 
 muttering. 
 
 "But, Flore," said this sheep, " this is the very first I have 
 heard of your wishes ; how can you tell whether I will or will 
 not?" 
 
 "In the first place," she went on, "we ought to have a 
 man in the house. It is known that you have ten, fifteen, 
 twenty thousand francs, and if any one wanted to rob you we 
 should be murdered. For my part, I have no wish to wake up 
 some morning cut into four quarters, like the poor servant- 
 girl who was fool enough to try to defend her master. Well ! 
 11
 
 162 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 But if it were known that we had a man on the premises who 
 is as brave as Caesar, and has the use of his hands — Max could 
 settle three thieves while you were talking about it. Well, I 
 say, I should sleep easier. People will cram you with non- 
 sense. Here, I am in love with him ; there, I adore him ! 
 Do you know what you have got to say ? Well, just tell them 
 that you know all that, but that your father told you on his 
 death-bed to take care of his poor Max. Then every one must 
 hold their tongue, for the flagstones of Issoudun could tell 
 you that your father paid for his schooling — so there ! For 
 nine years I have eaten your bread " 
 
 "Flore, Flore " 
 
 "And more than one young fellow in this town has come 
 to me a-courtin' — so there ! And one offers me a gold chain, 
 and another a gold watch : ' Dear little Flore, if only you 
 would come away from that old idiot of a Rouget,' that is the 
 sort of thing they say of you ! ; What, I ! leave him ? I 
 should think sol such an innocent as that. Why, what would 
 become of him ! ' I have always answerd, ' No, no, where a 
 Nanny is tethered she must eat ' " 
 
 " Yes, Flore, I have no one in the world but you, and 
 I am only too happy. If it will give you pleasure, child, 
 we will have Maxence Gilet in the house ; he can eat with 
 
 us." 
 
 " By heaven ! I should hope so ! 
 "There, there, don't be angry- 
 
 " Enough for one is enough for two," said she, laughing. 
 "But now, if you are very nice, do you know what you will 
 do, my dear old boy? You will take a turn in front of the 
 mayor's at about four o'clock, and manage to meet Major 
 Gilet, and ask him to dinner. If he makes any difficulties, 
 tell him it is to please me ; he is too polite to refuse that. 
 And then, over your dessert, if he talks of his misfortunes, 
 or of the hulks — and you can surely have sense enough to 
 lead up to the subject — you will offer him a home here. If
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 163 
 
 he makes any objection, never mind ; I will find a way to 
 persuade him " 
 
 As he slowly paced the Boulevard Baron, Rouget, so far as 
 he was capable, thought over this incident. If he were to 
 part with Flore — and the mere idea made him dizzy — what 
 woman could he find to take her place ? Marry ? At his 
 age he would be married for his money, and even more 
 cruelly handled by a legitimate wife than he was by Flore. 
 Moreover, the notion of being bereft of her affection, even 
 if it were a delusion, was intolerably painful. So he was as 
 charming to Major Gilet as he knew how to be. As Flore 
 had wished, the invitation was given in the presence of wit- 
 nesses, so as to leave Max's honor clear. 
 
 Flore and her master were reconciled ; but from that day 
 Jean-Jacques was aware of shades of demeanor proving a 
 complete change in La Rabouilleuse's affection for him. 
 
 For about a fortnight Flore complained loudly to the 
 tradespeople, at market, and to her gossips, of Monsieur 
 Rouget's tyranny in taking it into his head to have his natural 
 half-brother under his roof. But no one was taken in by this 
 farce, and Flore was considered an extremely shrewd and wily 
 creature. 
 
 Old Rouget was made very happy by the installation of 
 Max as a member of the household, for in him he had a 
 companion who was most carefully attentive to him without 
 servility. Gilet chatted, talked politics, and sometimes walked 
 out with him. 
 
 As soon as the officer was quite at home, Flore refused to 
 be cook any longer; "kitchen work spoiled her hands," she 
 said. By desire of the grand master of the order, La Cog- 
 nette found a relation of her own, an old maid, whose 
 master, a cure, had just died, leaving her nothing, an excel- 
 lent cook, who would devote herself through life and death 
 to Flore and Max. And, in the name of these two potentates, 
 La Cognette could promise her relation a pension of three
 
 104 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 hundred francs after ten years of good, honest, and loyal 
 service. La Vedie, who was sixty, was remarkable for a face 
 deeply marked by smallpox and of suitable ugliness. 
 
 When she assumed her functious Flore became Mademoi- 
 selle Brazier. She wore stays, she dressed in silk, in fine 
 woolen stuffs, or in cambric, according to the season. She 
 had collars, costly kerchiefs, embroidered caps and lace tuck- 
 ers, wore dainty boots, and kept herself in an elegant and 
 handsome style that made her look younger. She was now 
 like a rough diamond that has been cut and set by the jeweler 
 to show off its value. She was anxious to do Max credit. 
 By the end of that year, 1S17, she had procured a horse 
 from Bourges, said to be of English breed, for the poor major, 
 who was tired of going about on foot. Max had picked up 
 in the neighborhood a man, a Pole named Kouski, formerly a 
 lancer in the Imperial Guard, and now reduced to misery, who 
 was only too glad to find a berth at Monsieur Rouget's as 
 the major's servant. Max was Kouski's idol, especially after 
 the fray with the three Royalists. So after 1817 the Rouget 
 household consisted of five persons, three of them idle ; and 
 the expenses amounted to about eight thousand francs a year. 
 
 By the time when Madame Bridau came back to Issoudun 
 to save her inheritance, as Maitre Desroches expressed it, so 
 seriously endangered, Pere Rouget, as he was commonly 
 called, had by degrees lapsed into an almost vegetative exist- 
 ence. To begin with, from the day when Max was at home 
 in the house, Mademoiselle Brazier kept house with quite epis- 
 copal luxury. Rouget. thus led into high living, and tempted 
 by the excellent dishes concocted by La Vedie, ate more and 
 more every day. Notwithstanding such abundant and nutri- 
 tious feeding, he did not get fat. He grew every day more 
 bent, like a man tired out — perhaps by the effort of digestion — 
 and his eyes sank in puffy circles. Still, when, in his walks, 
 anyone abked after his health, "1 never was belter in my
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 165 
 
 life," was always his reply. As he had always been known 
 to have a most limited intellect, the gradual deterioration of 
 his faculties was not observed. His love for Flore was the 
 one emotion that kept him alive ; he existed only for her ; 
 his weakness before her knew no measure ; he obeyed her 
 every look and watched this creature's movements as a dog 
 watches his master's least gesture. And, as Madame Hochon 
 said, Pere Rouget at fifty-seven looked older than Monsieur 
 Hochon, who was eighty. 
 
 As may easily be supposed, Max's rooms were worthy of so 
 charming a youth. And in six years, year by year, the major 
 had made the comfort of his lodgings more perfect, and added 
 grace to the smallest details, as much for his own sake as for 
 Flore's. Still it was only the comfort of Issoudun ; painted 
 floors, wall-papers of some elegance, mahogany furniture, mir- 
 rors in gilt frames, muslin curtains with red bands to loop 
 them, an Arabian bedstead with curtains hung as a country 
 upholsterer arranges them for a wealthy bride, and which 
 then seemed the height of magnificence, but which are to 
 be seen in the commonest fashion-plates, and are so gen- 
 eral now that in Paris even petty dealers will not have 
 them when they marry. Then — an unheard-of thing, which 
 gave rise to much talk in Issoudun — there was matting on the 
 stairs, to deaden noise no doubt ! And, in fact, Max, as 
 he came in before daybreak, woke nobody, and Rouget never 
 suspected his lodger's share in the dark deeds of the Knights 
 of Idlesse. 
 
 At about eight in the morning Flore, in a pretty pink-striped 
 cotton wrapper and a lace cap, her feet in furred slippers, 
 gently opened Max's bedroom door, but, seeing him asleep, 
 she stood a moment by the bed. 
 
 "He came in so late," thought she; "at half-past three. 
 A man must be made of iron to be able to stand such racket 
 as that ! And isn't he strong too ? The love of a man ! 1 
 wonder what they were doing last night ! "
 
 166 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 "You, my little Flore," said Max, waking as a soldier 
 wakes, inured by the vicissitudes of war to find all his wits and 
 his presence of mind however suddenly he may be roused. 
 
 " You are sleepy ; I am going " 
 
 " No, stay ; there are serious things " 
 
 "You have done something too bad last night?" 
 
 " Ah, pooh ! The matter in hand concerns that old fool. 
 Look here ; you never mentioned his family. Well, they are 
 coming here — his family is coming, to cut us out, no doubt." 
 
 " Oh, I will give them a startler ! " said Flore. 
 
 "Mademoiselle Brazier," said Max gravely, " matters are 
 too serious to be taken at a rush. Send me up my coffee ; I 
 will have it in bed, where I will consider what proceedings 
 
 we must take Come back at nine, and we will talk it 
 
 over. Meanwhile behave as if you had heard nothing." 
 
 Startled by this news, Flore left Max, and went to make his 
 coffee ; but a quarter of an hour later Baruch rushed in and 
 said to the grand master, " Fario is looking for his cart." 
 
 Max was dressed in five minutes, went downstairs, and with 
 an air of lounging for his pleasure, made his way to the foot 
 of the tower hill, where he saw a considerable crowd assem- 
 bled and greatly agitated. 
 
 " What is the matter ! " said Max, making his way through 
 the mob to speak to the Spaniard. 
 
 Fario, a small, shriveled man, was ugly enough to have 
 been a grandee. His very fiery, very small eyes, very close 
 together, would have earned him at Naples a reputation for 
 the evil eye. The little man seemed gentle because he was 
 grave, quiet, and slow in his movements; and he was com- 
 monly spoken of as bonhomme, good old Fario. But his com- 
 plexion, of the color of gingerbread, and his gentle manner, 
 concealed from the ignorant, but betrayed to the knowing, 
 his character as a half-Moorish peasant from Grenada, who 
 had not yet been roused from his torpid indifference. 
 
 " But are you sure," said Max, after listening to the lamen-
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 167 
 
 tations ot" the seed-merchant, "that you brought your cart? 
 For, thank, heaven, we have no thieves in lssoudun " 
 
 " I left it there " 
 
 "But if the horse was harnessed to it, may he not have 
 gone away with the cart ? " 
 
 "There is my horse," said Fario, pointing to his steed 
 standing harnessed about thirty yards off. 
 
 Max solemnly went to the spot, so as to be able by looking 
 up to see the foot of the tower, for the people had collected 
 at the bottom of the hill. Everybody followed him, and this 
 was what the rascal wanted. 
 
 "Has any one by mistake put a cart in his pocket?" 
 cried Francois. 
 
 "Come, feel, turn them out!" said Baruch. Shouts of 
 laughter rose on all sides. Fario swore ; now in a Spaniard 
 an oath means the last pitch of fury. 
 
 " Is yours a light cart ? " asked Max. 
 
 "Light?" retorted Fario. " If all those who are laugh- 
 ing at me had it over their toes, their corns would not hurt 
 them again." 
 
 "Well, but it must be devilish light," replied Max, point- 
 ing to the tower, " for it has flown to the top of the hill." 
 
 At these words all looked up, and for a moment there was 
 almost a riot in the market-place. Every one was pointing 
 to this magical vehicle. Every tongue was wagging. 
 
 " The devil has a care for the innkeepers, who are all 
 doomed to perdition," said Goddet to the speechless owner; 
 " he wants to teach you not to leave carts about instead of 
 putting up at the inn." 
 
 At this speech the mob howled, for Fario was reckoned 
 miserly. 
 
 " Come, my good man," said Max, " do not lose heart. 
 We will go up and see how the cart got there. The deuce is 
 in it! We will lend you a hand. Will you come, Baruch? 
 You," he added in a whisper to Francois, " clear every one
 
 168 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 out of the way, and mind there is no one standing below when 
 you see us at the top." 
 
 Fario, with Max, Baruch, and three more of the knights, 
 climbed up to the tower. During the scramble, which was 
 not free from danger, Max remarked to Fario that there were 
 no tracks, nor anything to show how the cart had been gotten 
 up. And Fario began to believe in some magic ; he had 
 quite lost his head. On reaching the top and examining mat- 
 ters, the feat seriously seemed quite impossible. 
 
 "And how shall we ever get it down again?" said the 
 Spaniard, whose little eyes expressed positive terror, while his 
 tawny hollow face, which looked as if it could never change 
 color, turned pale. 
 
 "Well," said Max, " I see no difficulty in that." 
 
 And taking advantage of Fario's bewilderment, he took the 
 cart up by the shafts, giving it a tilt with his strong arms so 
 as to give it impetus ; then, at the moment when he let it go, 
 he shouted in a voice of thunder, " Look out below ! " But 
 there was no danger. The crowd, warned by Francois, and 
 eager with curiosity, had withdrawn to a little distance to see 
 what was going on on the knoll. The cart smashed in pic- 
 turesque style, broken into a thousand pieces. 
 
 "There, it is down again ! " said Baruch. 
 
 "Ah, blackguards, thieves, villains ! " yelled Fario. "It 
 was you who got it up, Til be bound ! " 
 
 Max, Baruch, and their three comrades began to laugh at 
 the Spaniard's abuse. 
 
 "We wanted to do you a service," said Max haughtily. 
 " To save your damned cart I ran the risk of going down on 
 the top of it, and this is how you thank me. What country 
 do you come from, pray? " 
 
 " From a country where we do not forgive an injury," 
 replied Fario, quivering with rage. " My cart may serve you 
 a turn to take you to the devil ! Unless," he added, as mild 
 as a lamb, " you like to replace it by a new one ? "
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. L69 
 
 "We will talk aboui it," said Max, going down the hill. 
 
 When they were at the bottom, anil had rejoined the first 
 group of laughers, Max took Fario by the jacket-button, and 
 said — 
 
 " Yes, my good Fario, I will make you a present of a splen- 
 did cart if you will give me two hundred and fifty francs ; I 
 won't guarantee that, like this one, it is warranted for a tum- 
 bler's trap." 
 
 This jest, however, touched Fario no more than if he were 
 concluding an ordinary bargain. 
 
 "Dame!" he replied calmly, "you will give me francs 
 enough to replace my poor cart, and you will never spend 
 Pere Rouget's money in a better cause." 
 
 Max turned white and lifted his formidable fist to strike 
 Fario; but Baruch, who knew that such a blow would not fall 
 only on the Spaniard, whisked him off like a feather, saying 
 to Max in an undertone, " Don't play the fool ! " 
 
 The major, recalled to order, began to laugh, and said to 
 Fario, " Though I have by accident damaged your cart, you 
 are trying to slander me, so we are quits." 
 
 "Not yet," muttered Fario. "But I am glad to have 
 found out what my cart is worth ! ' 
 
 "Ah, ha ! Max, you have found your match ! " said a by- 
 stander, who was not a member of the order. 
 
 " Good-by, Monsieur Gilet ; you have not heard the last 
 of your clever crick ! " said the Spaniard, mounting his horse 
 and disappearing in the midst of a loud hurrah ! 
 
 " I will keep the iron tires for you," cried a wheelwright, 
 who had come up to study the effects of the fall. One of the 
 shafts was standing upright, planted in the ground like a tree. 
 
 Max was pale and thoughtful, stung to the heart by the 
 Spaniard's speech. For five days at Issoudun Fario's cart was 
 the talk of the town. It was fated to travel far, as young 
 Goddet said, for it made the round of the province, where the 
 pranks of Max and Baruch were much discussed. Hence,
 
 170 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 even a week after the event, the Spaniard was still the talk of 
 the departments and the subject of much "jaw," a fact tc 
 which he was keenly alive. Max and La Rabouilleuse, too, 
 as a result of the vindictive Spaniard's retort, were the sub- 
 ject of endless comments, whispered indeed at Issoudun, but 
 loudly spoken at Bourges, at Vatan, at Vierzon, and at Cha- 
 teauroux. Maxence Gilet knew the country well enough to 
 imagine how envenomed these remarks must be. 
 
 " No one can hinder their talking," thought he. " Ah ! 
 that was a bad night's work." 
 
 " Well, Max," said Francois, taking his arm, " they are to 
 be here to-night." 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " The Bridaus. My grandmother has just had a letter 
 from her goddaughter." 
 
 "Listen to me, my boy," said Max in his ear ; "1 have 
 thought this business over very seriously. Neither Flore nor 
 I must appear to have any ill-feeling towards the Bridaus. If 
 the heirs leave Issouden, it is your people, the Hochons, who 
 must seem to be the cause. Study these Paris folks well ; and 
 when I have taken their measure, to-morrow at La Cognette's 
 we will see what can be done with them, and how we can 
 make a breach between them and your grandfather." 
 
 "The Spaniard has found the joint in Max's harness," 
 said Baruch to his cousin Francois as they went in, looking at 
 his friend entering Rouget's door. 
 
 While Max was thus occupied, Flore, notwithstanding her 
 companion's counsel, had been unable to control her rage ; 
 without knowing whether she was seconding or interfering 
 with Max's plans, she broke out against the poor old bach- 
 elor. When Jean-Jacques incurred his nurse's displeasure, he 
 found himself suddenly bereft of all the little cares and 
 vulgar petting which were the joy of his life. In short, Flore 
 put her master in disgrace. No more little affectionate words
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 171 
 
 with which she was wont to grace her conversation, in various 
 tones, with more or less tender glances — my puss, my chicken, 
 my good old dog, my spoilt boy. No more familiar iu. A 
 vous, short and cold, and ironically respectful, would pierce 
 the unhappy man's heart like a knife. This vous was a decla- 
 ration of war. 
 
 Then, instead of helping him to dress, giving him his 
 things, anticipating his wishes, looking at him with the sort 
 of admiration women know how to convey — and the broader it 
 is, the more gratifying — saying, "You are as fresh as a rose ! 
 Come, you look wonderfully well ! How fine you are, old 
 man ! " — instead of entertaining him while he dressed with 
 the fun and follies that amused him, Flore left him to manage 
 for himself. If he called her, she would answer from the 
 bottom of the stairs — 
 
 " Well, I can't do two things at once — get your breakfast 
 and wait on you in your room. Aren't you old enough to 
 dress yourself? " 
 
 " Good God ! How have I offended her? " the old fellow 
 wondered, on receiving one of these rebuffs, when he called 
 for some hot water to shave himself. 
 
 Ci Vedie, take up some hot water to monsieur," cried 
 Flore. 
 
 " Vedie ? " said the poor man, bewildered by the dread of 
 the wrath impending over him. "Vedie, what is the matter 
 with madame this morning? " 
 
 Flore insisted on being called madame by her master, by 
 Vedie, Kouski, and Max. 
 
 "She has heard something seemingly not much to your 
 credit," replied Vedie, putting on a very pathetic air. " You 
 are very foolish, monsieur. There, I am but a poor servant, 
 and you may tell me not to be poking my nose into your 
 concerns; but you may hunt through all the women in the 
 world, like the king in Holy Writ, and you will never find her 
 like. You ought to kiss the place where she has set her foot.
 
 172 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 1 tell you, if you vex her, it will be enough to break your 
 own heart!" And there really were tears in her eyes. 
 
 Vedie left the poor man quite annihilated ; he sank into a 
 chair, gazing into space like a man melancholy mad, and 
 forgot to shave himself. These alternations of hot and cold 
 affected the poor feeble creature, who lived only through his 
 hold on love, like the deadly chill produced by a sudden 
 passage from tropical heat to polar cold. They were moral 
 pleurisies which exhausted him like so many illnesses. Flore 
 only in the whole world could act upon him so, for to her 
 alone he was as kind as he was silly. 
 
 "What! You have not shaved yet?" said she, opening 
 the door. She made Pere Rouget start violently ; from being 
 pale and limp, he suddenly turned red for a moment, but 
 dared not resent this attack. 
 
 " Your breakfast is waiting. But you may go down in 
 your dressing-gown and slippers — you will breakfast by your- 
 self." 
 
 And she vanished without waiting for a reply, To make 
 the poor man breakfast alone was one of the punishments 
 which most deeply distressed him ; he liked to talk while he 
 was eating. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, Rouget 
 was seized with a fit of coughing, for excitement had stirred 
 his rheum. 
 
 "Oh, yes, you may cough ! " said Flore in the kitchen, 
 not caring whether her master heard her or not. " Mv word ! 
 the old wretch is strong enough to weather it without any one 
 troubling theirselves about him ! If he ever coughs his soul 
 up, it won't be in our time." 
 
 Such were the amenities with which La Rabouilleuse favored 
 Rouget in her fits of rage. The poor man sat down in deep 
 dejection at a corner of the table in the middle of the room, 
 looking at his old furniture and old pictures with a desolate 
 air. 
 
 " You might have put on a necktie ! " said Flore, coming
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 173 
 
 in. " Do you think a neck like yours is pretty to see — redder 
 and more wrinkled than a turkey-cock's." 
 
 " But what have I done ?" he asked, raising his pale green 
 eyes full of tears, and confronting Flore's cold look. 
 
 "What have you done?" she echoed. "And you don't 
 know ? What a hypocrite ! Why, your sister Agathe — who 
 is as much your sister as I am sister to the tower of Issoudun, 
 if you can believe your father, and who is nothing on earth 
 to you — is coming from Paris with her son, that wretched 
 tu'penny painter, and they're coming to see you " 
 
 " My sister and nephews are coming to Issoudun?" said 
 he, quite bewildered. 
 
 "Oh, yes; you may pretend to be astonished, to make me 
 believe that you did not write to them to come ! That is a 
 very thin trick. Don't be afraid, we won't interfere with 
 your Paris friends, for we shall have shaken the dust off our 
 feet before they set theirs within these walls ! Max and I 
 shall be gone never to return ! As to your will — I will tear 
 it in four quarters under your nose, under your beard, do you 
 hear? You may leave your goods to your family, as we are 
 not your family. After that you will see whether you are 
 loved, for your own sake, by people who have not seen you 
 for thirty years, or have never seen you at all ! Your sister 
 will not fill my place — a double-distilled bigot ! ' 
 
 "If that is all, my pretty Flore," said the old man, "I 
 shall see neither my sister nor my nephews. I swear to you 
 solemnly that this is the first word I have heard of their 
 arrival, and it is a gotten-up thing arranged by Madame 
 Hochon, the old bigot " 
 
 Max, who had heard Pere Rouget's reply, suddenly came 
 in, saying in a hectoring tone, " What is the matter? " 
 
 " My good Max," the old man went on, only too glad to 
 purchase the major's adhesion, for, by agreement with Flore, 
 he was always to take Rouget's part, " I swear to you, by ail 
 that is sacred, that 1 have only this instant heard the news.
 
 174 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 I never wrote to my sister; my father made me promise to 
 leave her nothing, to give it rather to the church — in short, 
 I refuse to see either my sister Agathe or her sons." 
 
 " Your father was wrong, my dear Jean-Jacques, and 
 madame is yet more wrong," replied Max. "Your father 
 had his own reasons — he is dead, his hatred ought to die with 
 him. Your sister is your sister, your nephews are your 
 nephews. You owe it to yourself to receive them cordially, 
 and you owe it to us too. What would be said in Issoudun ? 
 Sss — thunder! I have enough on my shoulders; the only 
 thing wanting is to give rise to a report that we keep you shut 
 up, that you are not a free agent, that we have incensed you 
 against your heirs, that we are trying to possess ourselves of 
 
 your fortune The devil may take me if I don't desert 
 
 from the service at the very next calumny ; one is quite 
 enough ! Let us have breakfast." 
 
 Flore, as meek as a mouse, helped Vedie to lay the table. 
 Rouget, filled with admiration for Max, took him by both 
 hands, led him into a window bay, and said to him in an 
 undertone — 
 
 " Ah, Max, if I had a son, I should not love him so well 
 as I love you. Flore was right in saying that you two are my 
 
 family You have a sense of honor, Max, and all you 
 
 have said is very right " 
 
 "You ought to entertain your sister and your nephew," 
 said Max, interrupting him, "but ought not to alter your 
 will ; thus you will satisfy your father and everybody else." 
 
 " Come, my little dears! " cried Flore, in cheerful tones, 
 " the salmis will be cold. There, old boy, there is a wing 
 for you," she said, smiling on Jean-Jacques. 
 
 At this speech the old fellow's long face lost its cadaverous 
 tints, a treacly smile played on his flabby lips ; but lie 
 coughed again, for the joy of being received anew into favor 
 excited him as greatly as being in disgrace. Flore sprang up, 
 snatched a little cashmere shawl off her shoulders, and
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 175 
 
 wrapped it round the old man's throat as a comforter, say- 
 
 ing- 
 
 It is silly to upset yourself so over trifles. Here, foolish 
 old boy, that will do you good — it has been next to my 
 heart " 
 
 "What a good soul! " said Rouget to Max, while Flore 
 went off for a black velvet cap to cover the old fellow's 
 almost bald head. 
 
 "As good as she is handsome," gallantly replied Max; 
 " but a little hasty, like all those who carry their heart in 
 their hand." 
 
 The reader may feel inclined to find fault with the crudities 
 of this picture, and to think that the displays of La Rabouil- 
 leuse's temper are marked by some truths which the painter 
 should leave in the shade. Well ; this scene, a hundred 
 times repeated with horrible variations, is in all its coarse and 
 repulsive veraciousness the type of that which every woman 
 will play, on whatever rung of the social ladder she may 
 stand, if any kind of self-interest has diverted her from the 
 path of obedience, and she has seized the reins of power. To 
 women as to great politicians — the end justifies any means. 
 Between Flore Brazier and a duchess, between the duchess 
 and the richest tradesman's wife, between the tradesman's 
 wife and the most splendidly kept woman, there are no differ- 
 ences but those due to education and to the atmosphere in 
 which they live. A fine lady's sulks take the place of 
 Flore's violence; in every rank bitter taunts, witty sarcasm, 
 cold disdain, hypocritical whining, and affected quarrels are 
 quite as successful as the low abuse of this Madame Everard 
 of Issoudun. 
 
 Max told the story of Fario with so much drollery that he 
 made the old fellow laugh. Vedie and Kouski, who had 
 come up to listen to the tale, exploded in the passage. As 
 for Flore, she laughed hysterically. After breakfast, while 
 Jean-Jacques was reading the papers — for they now subscribed
 
 176 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 to the Constitutionncl and the Pandore — Max look Flore up 
 to his room. 
 
 "Are you certain," said he, "that he has never made 
 another will since he named you as his legatee ? " 
 
 " He has no writing things," said she. 
 
 "He may have dictated one to some notary," said Max. 
 " If he has not done so, we must be prepared for the con- 
 tingency. So receive the Bridaus as well as possible ; but 
 meanwhile we must try, as soon as we can, to realize all the 
 money out on mortgage. Our notaries will be only too 
 glad to effect the transfers ; that is what they eat and drink 
 by. State securities are going up every day ; we are to con- 
 quer Spain and deliver Ferdinand VII. from his Cortes, so 
 next year they may perhaps be above par. So it will be a 
 good stroke of business to invest the old man's seven hun- 
 dred and fifty thousand francs in the funds at 89. Only try 
 and get them put into your name. It will always be some- 
 thing saved from the fire." 
 
 " A capital idea," said Flore. 
 
 "And as on eight hundred and ninety thousand francs he 
 will draw fifty thousand francs a year, you must get him to 
 borrow a hundred and forty thousand francs for two years, to 
 be repaid in two installments. Thus in two years we shall be 
 drawing a hundred thousand francs from Paris and ninety 
 thousand here, so we risk nothing." 
 
 " Without you, my splendid Max, what would have become 
 of us? " said she. 
 
 "Oh, to-morrow evening, at La Cognette's, after I have 
 seen this Paris couple, I will find some means of making 
 the Hochons themselves see them off the premises." 
 
 "Oh, you are so clever! You arc an angel, a love of 
 a man ! " 
 
 The Place Saint-Jean is situated half-way down a street 
 called La Grande Narette in the upper part, and La Petite
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 177 
 
 Narette below. In Berry the word Narette means the 
 same sort of highway as the Genoese Salita, a street 
 built on a steep slope. Between the Place Saint-Jean 
 and the Vilatte gate, the Narette is excessively steep. 
 Old Monsieur Hochon's house is opposite to that where 
 lived Jean-Jacques Rouget. What was going on at Pere 
 Rouget's could often be seen out of the drawing-room window 
 where Madame Hochon sat, and vice versa when the curtains 
 were undrawn or the doors left open. 
 
 Hochon's house is so much like Rouget's that they were, 
 no doubt, built by the same architect. Hochon, long ago the 
 collector of taxes at Selles, was born at Issoudun, and re- 
 turned thither to marry the sister of the sub-delegate, the 
 gallant Lousteau, exchanging his post at Selles for a similar 
 one at Issoudun. He had retired before 1787, and so es- 
 caped the storms of the Revolution, while fully supporting 
 its principles, like all honest men who shout on the winning 
 side. It was not for nothing that Monsieur Hochon had a 
 reputation for avarice. But would it not be mere vain repe- 
 tition to describe him? One of the miserly acts which made 
 him famous will no doubt be enough to paint Monsieur Ho- 
 chon at full length. 
 
 At the time of his daughter's marriage to a Borniche — she 
 has since died — it was necessary to give a dinner to the 
 Borniche family. The bridegroom, who expected to inherit 
 a fine fortune, died soon after of grief at having failed in 
 business, and yet more at his father's and mother's refusal to 
 help him. These old Borniches were still living, delighted 
 to have seen Monsieur Hochon take the guardianship of his 
 grandchildren on account of his daughter's settlement, which 
 he had succeeded in saving. 
 
 On the day when the marriage contract was to be signed, 
 
 all the relations of both families had assembled in the 
 
 drawing-room — the Hochons on one side and the Borniches 
 
 on the other, all in their Sunday best. In the midst of read- 
 
 12
 
 178 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 ing the contract, very solemnly performed by young Heron 
 the notary, the cook came in and asked Monsieur Hochon 
 for some pack-thread to truss the turkey — an important item 
 in the bill of fare. The old tax-collector pulled out of the 
 depths of his coat-pocket an end of string, which had, no 
 doubt, tied up some parcel, and gave it to her ; but before 
 the woman had reached the door, he called out, " Gritte, let 
 me have it back ! " Gritte is a local abbreviation of Mar- 
 guerite. 
 
 This will enable you to understand Monsieur Hochon, and 
 the joke perpetrated by the town on the name of the family, 
 consisting of the father, mother, and three children — les cinq 
 cochons, the five pigs. 
 
 As years went by old Hochon became more and more nig- 
 gardly and careful, and he was now eighty-five years of age. 
 He was one of those who will stoop in the street in the midst 
 of an animated conversation to pick up a pin, saying, "That 
 is a woman's waee ! " and stick it into his coat cuff. He com- 
 
 O 
 
 plained bitterly of the inferior quality of cloth nowadays, 
 remarking that his coat had lasted only ten years. Tall, lean, 
 and bony, with a yellow complexion, speaking little, reading 
 little, never fatiguing himself, as ceremonious as an Oriental, 
 he maintained the rule of strict sobriety in his household, 
 doling out food and drink to his fairly numerous family, con- 
 sisting of his wife nee Lousteau, of his grandson Baruch and 
 granddaughter Adolphine, the heirs of the old Borniches, 
 and of his other grandson, Francois Hochon. 
 
 His eldest son, caught for the army in 1813 by the levy of 
 men of respectable birth who escaped the conscription, and 
 who were enrolled under the name of guards of honor, was 
 killed at the battle of Hanau, The heir-presumptive had 
 married, very young, a rich woman, hoping to evade any call 
 to arms ; but then he ran through all his money, foreseeing 
 the end. His wife, who followed the French army at a dis- 
 tance, died at Strasbourg in 1814, leaving debts which old
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 179 
 
 Hochon would not pay, quoting to the creditors the axiom 
 of a past code, " Women are minors." 
 
 So folks could still say les cinq Hochons, since the household 
 consisted of three grandchildren and two grandparents; and 
 the jest still survived, for in the country no jest grows too 
 stale. Gritte, now sixty years old, managed all the work of 
 the house. 
 
 The house, though spacious, was scantily furnished. How- 
 ever, Madame Bridau could be very decently lodged in two 
 rooms on the third floor. Old Hochon now repented of 
 having kept two beds in these rooms, and belonging to each 
 an old armchair in unvarnished wood, with a worsted-work 
 seat, and a walnut-wood table, on which stood a wide-mouthed 
 water jug in a basin edged with blue. The old man kept his 
 apples and winter pears, his quinces and medlars, on straw in 
 these two rooms, where the rats and mice had a high time, 
 and there was a strong flavor of fruit and mice. Madame 
 Hochon had everything cleaned ; the paper, where it had 
 fallen from the walls, was stuck on again with wafers; she 
 furnished the windows with muslin blinds cut out of some 
 old skirts of her own. Then, when her husband refused to 
 buy two little list rugs, she placed her own bedside rug for her 
 little Agathe, talking of this mother of past seven-and-forty 
 as "Poor child! " 
 
 Madame Hochon borrowed two bed-tables from the Bor- 
 niches, and most daringly hired from a second-hand store two 
 old chests of drawers with brass handles. She possessed two 
 pairs of candlesticks, made of some scarce wood by her father, 
 who had had a passion for turning. From 1770 to 1780 it 
 had been the fashion among rich people to learn a trade ; and 
 Monsieur Lousteau the elder, head commissioner of subsi- 
 dies, was a turner, as Louis XVI. was a locksmith. These 
 candlesticks were decorated with rings in briar-root, peach, 
 and apricot wood. Madame Hochon risked these precious 
 relics 1
 
 180 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 All these preparations and this great sacrifice added to 
 Monsieur Hochon's serious mien ; he did not yet believe that 
 the Bridaus would come. 
 
 On the very morning of the day made famous by the trick 
 played on Fario, Madame Hochon said to her husband after 
 breakfast — 
 
 " I hope, Hochon, that you will make Madame Bridau, my 
 goddaughter, properly welcome." Then, after assuring her- 
 self that her grandchildren had left the room, she added : "I 
 am mistress of my own fortune ; do not compel me to indem- 
 nify Agathe by my will for an unpleasant reception." 
 
 "And do you suppose, madame," said Hochon gently, 
 " that at my age I do not know how to behave with decent 
 civility." 
 
 "You know very well what I mean, old fox ! Be kind to 
 our guests, and remember how truly I love Agathe " 
 
 "Yes, and you truly loved Maxence Gilet, who is going to 
 swallow whole the fortune that ought to be your Agathe's. 
 Ah ! you cherished a serpent in your bosom then ! After all, 
 the Rougets' money was fated to belong to some Lousteau or 
 another." 
 
 Having made this allusion to the supposed parentage of 
 Agathe and of Max, Hochon was about to leave the room ; 
 but old Madame Hochon, still slender and upright, wearing 
 a mob cap with bows, and her hair powdered, with a shot- 
 silk petticoat, tight sleeves, and high-heeled slippers, set her 
 snuff-box down on her little table, and said — 
 
 " Really, Monsieur Hochon, how can a clever man like 
 you repeat the nonsense which, unluckily, destroyed my poor 
 friend's peace of mind, and cost my poor goddaughter her 
 share of her father's fortune ? Max Gilet is not my brother's 
 son, and I often advised him to save the money he spent on 
 him. And you know as well as I do that Madame Rouget 
 was virtue itself " 
 
 " Well, the daughter is worthy of her mother, for she seems.
 
 A BACHFLOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 181 
 
 to me a great goose. After losing all her money, she brought 
 up her sons so well that one of them is in prison awaiting his 
 trial before the supreme court for a conspiracy a la Berton. 
 As to the other — worse and worse ! he is a painter. If your 
 proteges remain here till they have extracted that idiot Rouget 
 from the clutches of La Rabouilleuse and Gilet, we shall get 
 through more than one bushel of salt with them." 
 
 " That will do, Monsieur Hochon ; but you might wish 
 them success ! " 
 
 Monsieur Hochon took up his hat and his ivory-handled 
 cane, and went out, amazed by this alarming speech, for he 
 had not supposed his wife to be so determined. Madame 
 Hochon, on her part, took her prayer-book to read the order 
 of service, her great age hindering her from going to mass 
 every morning. It was with difficulty that she got to church 
 on Sundays and high festivals. Since receiving Agathe's re- 
 ply she had added to her regular prayers a special intercession, 
 beseeching God to open the eyes of Jean-Jacques Rouget, to 
 bless Agathe, and to grant success to the undertaking to 
 which she had been driven. 
 
 Concealing the fact from her two grandsons, whom she 
 regarded as parpaillots (renegades), she had requested the 
 cure to say masses for nine days, attended by her grand- 
 daughter Adolphine Borniche, who put up her grandmother's 
 prayers in the church as her proxy. 
 
 Adolphine, now eighteen, having stitched by her grand- 
 mother's side for seven years, in this chill home of methodical 
 and melancholy regularity, was all the more ready to perform 
 the novena, because she hoped to inspire some tender feel- 
 ing in Joseph Bridau, the painter so little understood by 
 Monsieur Hochon, and in whom she took a keen interest, 
 were it only on account of the monstrous ideas her grand- 
 father attributed to the young Paris artist. 
 
 Old people, wise people, the magnates of the town, and 
 fathers of families, all approved of Madame Hochon 's con-
 
 1S2 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 duct ; and their good-wishes for her goddaughter and for 
 Agathe's sons were reinforced by the secret contempt they 
 had long felt for the proceedings of Maxence Gilet. So the 
 advent of Pere Rouget's sister and nephew gave rise to two 
 factions in Issoudun : that of the older and upper citizen 
 class, who could only watch events and hope for the best 
 without helping matters ; and that of the Knights of Idlesse 
 and Max's partisans, who were, unfortunately, capable of 
 doing much mischief to undermine the Parisians. 
 
 On this day, then, Agathe and Joseph got out of the coach 
 at the office of the Messageries, Place Misere, at three in the 
 afternoon. Though tired, Madame Bridau felt young again 
 at the sight of her native town, where at every step she found 
 some reminiscence and impression of her girlhood. In the 
 state of mind prevailing at Issoudun the arrival of the Paris- 
 ians was known all over the town within ten minutes. 
 
 Madame Hochon appeared at the front gate to receive her 
 goddaughter, and kissed her as if she had been a child of her 
 own. After seventy-two years of a life as empty as it was 
 monotonous, with nothing to look back upon but the coffins 
 of her three children, all dying in misfortune, she had culti- 
 vated a sort of artificial motherhood for the girl who, as she 
 expressed it, had for sixteen years lived in her pocket. In 
 the gloom of a provincial life she had cherished this old 
 regard, this child's life, and all its memories, just as if Agathe 
 were still with her, and she took a passionate interest in all 
 that concerned the Bridaus. 
 
 Agathe was led in triumph into the drawing-room, where 
 worthy Monsieur Hochon stood as cold as a raked-out oven. 
 
 " Here is Monsieur Hochon ; how do you think he is 
 looking ? " 
 
 " Why, exactly as he did when I left him," said Agathe. 
 
 " Ah, it is evident you have come from Paris, you pay 
 compliments," said the old man.
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 183 
 
 The family were then introduced : first, Baruch Borniche, 
 a tall youth of two-and-twenty ; then Francois Hochon, now 
 twenty-four; and lastly, little Adolphine, who blushed, and 
 did not know what to do with her hands, and especially 
 with her eyes, for she did not wish to appear to stare at Joseph 
 Bridau, who was anxiously examined by the two lads and by 
 old Hochon, but from different points of view. The miser 
 was reflecting, " He must have just come out of the hospital ; 
 he will eat like a fever-patient." 
 
 The two young men were saying to themselves, "What a 
 brigand ! What a head ! We shall have our hands full ! " 
 
 " Here is my son the painter, my good Joseph," said 
 Agathe finally, introducing the artist. 
 
 There was a little sigh in the emphasis on the word " good," 
 which betrayed Agathe's heart ; she was thinking of the pris- 
 oner at the Luxembourg. 
 
 " He looks ill," cried Madame Hochon ; " he is not like 
 you " 
 
 " No, madame," said Joseph, with the rough simplicity of 
 an artist, " I am like my father, only uglier ! " 
 
 Madame Hochon pressed Agathe's hand, which she was 
 holding, and gave her a look. That grasp, that glance were 
 meant to convey — 
 
 " Ah, my child, I quite understand your preferring that 
 scapegrace Philippe." 
 
 "I never saw your father, my dear boy," replied Madame 
 Hochon aloud; "but that you are your mother's son is 
 enough to make me love you. Besides, you have talent, from 
 what the late Madame Descoings used to write to me ; she 
 was the only person to give me any news of you in these 
 latter times." 
 
 "Talent?" said the artist; "no, not yet; but with time 
 and perseverance I may some day win both glory and 
 fortune." 
 
 " By painting?" said Monsieur Hochon, with deep irony.
 
 184 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 " Come, Adolphine," said Madame Hochon. " go and see 
 about getting the dinner served." 
 
 " Mother," said Joseph, " I will go and carry up our 
 trunks, which have just come." 
 
 " Hochon, will you show Monsieur Bridau the rooms," said 
 the grandmother to Francois. 
 
 As dinner was not till four, and it was now but half-past 
 three, Baruch went round the town giving news of the Bridaus' 
 arrival, describing Agathe's dress, and above all, Joseph, 
 whose hollow cheeks and sickly, strongly marked features 
 were like the ideal portrait of a brigand. In every house 
 that day Joseph was the sole subject of conversation. 
 
 " Old Rouget's sister must have met an ape somewhere be- 
 fore her son was born ; he is just like a monkey." " He has a 
 face like a brigand, and eyes like a basilisk." " They say he 
 is extraordinary to behold, quite alarming." " All Paris artists 
 are the same." "They are as spiteful as cunning asses, and 
 as vicious as apes." "It is in the nature of their calling." 
 " I have just seen Monsieur Beaussier, who says he would not 
 for worlds meet him at night in a wood. He saw him in the 
 diligence." " He has hollows in his face like a horse, and he 
 waves his arms like a madman." " That fellow is capable of 
 any crime; it is his fault, perhaps, that his brother, who was 
 a fine handsome man, has gone to the bad. Poor Madame 
 Bridau, she does not look very happy with him. Suppose 
 we take advantage of his being here to have our likenesses 
 drawn ? " 
 
 The result of these opinions, sown broadcast in the town as 
 if by the winds, was a devouring curiosity. All who had a 
 right to call on the Hochons promised themselves that they 
 would do so that evening, to inspect the Parisians. The 
 arrival of these two persons in a stagnant town like Issoudun 
 was as startling as the fall of the log among the frogs. 
 
 After placing his mother's luggage and his own in the two 
 attic rooms, and looking round them, Joseph studied the
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. lS r . 
 
 silent house, where the stairs, walls, and panels, bare of 
 adornment, shed a chill, and there was not a thing beyond 
 what was strictly necessary. But when, on going downstairs, 
 he found Monsieur Hochon himself cutting a slice of bread 
 for each person, he understood for the first time Moliere's 
 " Harpagon." 
 
 " We should have done better at the inn," thought he. 
 The dinner confirmed his apprehensions. After a soup, 
 so thin that quantity was evidently preferred to quality, a 
 dish of bouilli was served — fresh-boiled beef — triumphantly 
 wreathed with parsley. The vegetables cooked with it, served 
 in a separate dish, were part of the bill of fare. The meat 
 crowned the table, and was flanked by three other dishes ; 
 hard eggs on sorrel opposite the vegetables, and a salad, 
 ready dressed with nut-oil, opposite little cups of custard 
 flavored with burnt oats as a substitute for vanilla — as much 
 like vanilla as chicory is like Mocha. Butter, and radishes 
 on little plates at the opposite ends, black radishes and gher- 
 kins, completed the display, which Madame Hochon highly 
 approved. The good old lady nodded at her husband, as a 
 hostess happy to see that, at any rate for the first day, he had 
 done things in style. The old man responded with a look 
 and a shrug, easily interpreted to mean — 
 
 "You see what recklessness you lead me into ! " 
 As soon as the bouilli had been dissected by Monsieur 
 Hochon into slices as thin as the sole of your slipper, it was 
 removed to make way for three pigeons. The wine was of 
 the vintage of 1811. At a hint from her grandmother, Adol- 
 phine had graced each end of the table with a bunch of 
 flowers. 
 
 " Well, make the best of a bad job ! " thought the artist, 
 as he looked at the table. And he began to eat like a man 
 who had breakfasted at Vierzon at six in the morning, off an 
 execrable cup of coffee. 
 
 When Joseph had eaten his bread and asked for some more,
 
 186 A BAC/iF.LOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 Monsieur Hochon rose, slowly felt for a key in the depths of 
 his coat-pocket, opened a cupboard behind him, flourished 
 the stump of a twelve-pound loaf, ceremoniously cut off an- 
 other slice, which he divided in two, put it on a plate, and 
 passed the plate across the table to the young painter, with 
 the silence and composure of an old soldier, who says to him- 
 self at the beginning of a battle, " Well, I may be dead by 
 to-night." 
 
 Joseph took half the slice, and understood that he must 
 never again ask for more bread. No member of the family 
 was surprised at this scene, which to Joseph seemed so pre- 
 posterous. 
 
 The conversation went on. Agathe heard that the house 
 she was born in, her father's house before he had inherited 
 that of the Descoings, had been bought by the Borniches, 
 and she expressed a wish to see it again. 
 
 "The Borniches will call this evening, no doubt," said 
 her godmother. " All the town will come to inspect you," 
 she added to Joseph, " and they will ask you to their houses." 
 For dessert the maid brought in the famous soft cheeses of 
 Touraine and Berry, made of goats' milk, which so exactly 
 reproduce, in a sort of niello, the veining of the vine-leaves 
 on which they are served, that engraving might very well 
 have been invented in Touraine. On each side of the little 
 cheeses Gritte ceremoniously served some walnuts and some 
 rocky biscuits. 
 
 "Come, Gritte, bring us some fruit," said Madame 
 Hochon. 
 
 " Madame, there is no rotten fruit left," replied Gritte. 
 Joseph shouted with laughter, as if he had been in his 
 studio with his own companions, for he understood at once 
 that the precaution of beginning first on damaged fruit had 
 degenerated into a habit. 
 
 " Oh, we can eat it all the same ! " said he, with the dash 
 of spirit of a man who feels that he must speak.
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 187 
 
 " Pray go for some, Monsieur Hochon," said the old lady. 
 
 Monsieur Hochon, much annoyed by the artist's remark, 
 fetched some small peaches, some pears, and late plums. 
 
 " Adolphine, go and cut some grapes," said Madame 
 Hochon to her granddaughter. 
 
 Joseph looked at the two young men with an expression 
 that seemed to say, " And is it to such a diet as this that you 
 owe your blooming appearance? " 
 
 Baruch understood this keen glance, and could not help 
 smiling, for his cousin Hochon and he had displayed moderate 
 appetites. The food at home was a matter of indifference to 
 men who supped three times a week at La Cognette's. And 
 just before dinner, Baruch had had notice that the grand 
 master of the order had summoned a full meeting at midnight 
 to have a splendid supper, as he required their cooperation. 
 
 This banquet of welcome offered to his guests by old 
 Hochon explains how necessary these midnight festivities 
 were for the maintenance of these two great fellows, who had 
 fine appetites, and who never missed one. 
 
 " We will have some liqueurs in the drawing-room," said 
 Madame Hochon, rising, and signing to Joseph to give her 
 his arm. They went out first, and she was able to say to the 
 painter, " Well, my poor boy, your dinner will not give you 
 an indigestion ; but I had great difficulty in procuring it for 
 you ! You will find lenten fare here ; just enough to eat to 
 keep you alive, and that is all. So just make the best of it." 
 
 The frank simplicity of the old lady, thus pronouncing 
 judgment on her own house, pleased the painter, and he felt 
 deeply impressed by it. 
 
 "I shall have lived fifty years with that old man without 
 ever having heard twenty crowns jingle in my purse. Oh, if 
 it were not for the hope of saving your fortune, I would 
 never have invited your mother and you to stay in my 
 prison ! " 
 
 " But how is it that you are still alive ? " said the painter
 
 1S8 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 artlessly, with the light-heartedness that never deserts a 
 French artist. 
 
 " Ah, indeed ! " said she. " I pray." 
 
 Joseph felt a thrill as he heard these words, which gave the 
 old woman such dignity in his eyes that he drew back two or 
 three steps to look in her face ; he saw it radiant, full of such 
 tender serenity, that he said to her — 
 
 " I will paint your portrait " 
 
 " No, no," said she. " I have hated life on earth too much 
 to wish to remain on it in a picture." 
 
 As she spoke the sad words in a light tone, she took from a 
 cupboard a flask containing black-currant brandy, a household 
 liqueur prepared by herself, for she had had the recipe from 
 the famous sisterhood who also created the Issoudun cakes, 
 one of the greatest achievements of French confectionery, 
 which no chef, cook, pastry cook, or confectioner has ever 
 been able to imitate. Monsieur de Riviere, the ambassador 
 to Constantinople, ordered immense numbers every year for 
 Mahmoud's seraglio. Adolphine held a small lacquer trav 
 full of little old-fashioned glasses with an engraved pattern 
 and a gilt rim ; as her grandmother filled them, she carried 
 them round. 
 
 " Glasses round. Father will have some ! " cried Acathe 
 gaily, reminded of her young days by this time-honored 
 ceremony. 
 
 " Hochon will presently go to his club to read the pa- 
 pers ; we will have a little time to ourselves," said the old 
 lady in a low voice. 
 
 In fact, ten minutes later, the three women and Joseph were 
 left to themselves in the drawing-room. Its floor was never 
 polished, only swept, while the tapestried panels, in oak 
 frames, with deep O-G's and mouldings, and all the simple 
 heavy furniture, stood before Madame Bridau exactly as she 
 had left them. The Monarchy, the Revolution, the Empire, 
 and the Restoration, respecters of few things, had respected
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 189 
 
 this room, where their splendors and disasters had left not a 
 trace. 
 
 " Ah, godmother, my life has been cruelly storm-tossed in 
 comparison with yours!" exclaimed Madame Bridau, sur- 
 prised to see even a canary bird, which she had known alive, 
 stuffed and standing on the chimney-shelf between the old 
 clock and the old brass branched candlesticks and silver taper- 
 stands. 
 
 "My child," replied the old lady, "storms are in the 
 heart. The greater and the more needed is our resignation, 
 the greater must our inmost struggles be. But we will not 
 talk of mine, but of your affairs. You are indeed exactly 
 opposite the foe," she went on, pointing to the windows of 
 old Rouget's house. 
 
 " They are sitting down to dinner," quietly remarked 
 Adolphine. 
 
 The young girl, almost a recluse, was constantly looking 
 out of the window, hoping to catch some light shed by chance 
 on the enormities ascribed to Maxence Gilet, to La Ra- 
 bouilleuse, and to Jean-Jacques, of which a hint now and 
 again reached her ears when she was sent away while they 
 were discussed. The old lady now told her grandaughter to 
 leave her with Monsieur and Madame Bridau till the first 
 visitor should come. 
 
 " For I know my Issoudun." said she, looking at the two 
 Parisians ; " we shall have ten or twelve batches of inquisitive 
 callers this evening." 
 
 Madame Hochon hardly had time to give them the events 
 and particulars concerning the extraordinary influence exerted 
 over Jean-Jacques Rouget by La Rabouilleuse and Maxence 
 Gilet — not with the synthetic brevity with which they have 
 here been narrated, but with the addition of a thousand com- 
 ments, descriptions, and hypotheses lent to them by good 
 and evil tongues in the town — when Adolphine announced 
 the approach of the Borniches, the Beaussiers, the Loustcau-
 
 190 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 Prangins, the Fichets, the Goddet-Heraus, fourteen persons 
 in all, who loomed up in the distance. 
 
 "So, you see, my dear child," said the old lady in con- 
 clusion, "that it will be no small matter to drag this for- 
 tune out of the wolf's mouth " 
 
 " It seems to me so difficult with such a scoundrel as you 
 have described, and a thing like that young witch, that it 
 must be impossible," said Joseph. " We should have to re- 
 main at Issoudun a year at least to combat their influence 
 and undo their power over my uncle. No fortune is worth 
 so much vexation, to say nothing of having to stoop to a 
 thousand dishonorable tricks. My mother has but a fort- 
 night's leave of absence ; her appointment is a certainty, and 
 she must not risk losing it. In the month of October I have 
 some important work to do which Schinner has secured for 
 me in a nobleman's house. And to me, madame, you see, 
 fortune lies in my paint-brushes." 
 
 This speech was received with profound amazement. Madame 
 Hochon, though relatively superior to the place she lived in, 
 did not believe in painting. She looked at her goddaughter, 
 and again grasped her hand. 
 
 "This Maxence is a second edition of Philippe," said 
 Joseph in his mother's ear ; " but with more policy, more style 
 than Philippe has. Well, madame," he added aloud, "we 
 shall not long put Monsieur Hochon out of his way by stay- 
 ing here." 
 
 "Oh, you are young; you know nothing of the world," 
 said the old lady. "In a fortnight, with a little political 
 manoeuvring, you may do something. Listen to my advice, 
 and act as I may direct you." 
 
 "Oh, very gladly!" cried Joseph. "I am conscious of 
 ineffable incapacity in domestic tactics ; and I am sure I do 
 not know what Desroches himself would advise us to do if, 
 for instance, my uncle refuses to see us to-morrow." 
 
 Mrsdamcs Borniche, Goddet-Hcrau, Pcaussier, Lousteau-
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 101 
 
 Prangin, and Fichet, graced by their husbands, now came in- 
 After the usual greetings, and when the fourteen persons 
 had found seats, Madame Hochon could not avoid introducing 
 to them her goddaughter Agathe and Joseph Bridau. Joseph 
 remained on a sofa, and gave himself up to a covert study of 
 the sixty faces which from half-past five till nine came to sit 
 to him gratis, as he said to his mother. And Joseph's attitude 
 throughout this evening in regard to the patricians of Issoudun 
 did nothing to alter the views of the little town in regard to 
 him. Every one left chilled by his ironical gaze, uncomfortable 
 under his smile, or alarmed by his face, sinister, no doubt, to 
 people who could not discern the eccentricity of genius. 
 
 At ten o'clock, when everybody went to bed, the old lady 
 detained her goddaughter in her room till midnight. Then, 
 knowing that they were alone, the two women, while telling 
 each other the troubles of their lives, made an exchange of 
 suffering. As she measured the vastness of the solitude in 
 which all the powers of a beautiful soul had been spent un- 
 recognized, as she heard the last utterances of an intelligence 
 that had missed its opportunities, as she learned the sorrows of 
 a heart so essentially generous and charitable, but whose gener- 
 osity and charity had never had full play, Agathe no longer 
 regarded herself as the more unfortunate of the two, as she 
 perceived how much mitigation and minor happiness her Paris 
 life had afforded in the midst of the discipline appointed her 
 by God. 
 
 "You, who are so pious, godmother, tell me my faults," 
 said she. " Tell me what it is that God is punishing me for." 
 
 " He prepares us, my child," replied the old lady as mid- 
 night struck. 
 
 At midnight the Knights of Idlesse were making their way, 
 one by one, like shades, to meet under the trees of the Boule- 
 vard Baron, and walked to and fro, talking in low whispers. 
 
 " What is up> ' ' was the first question of each new-comer.
 
 192 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 '• I fancy," said Francois, " that all Max intends is to give 
 us a feed." 
 
 " No. Matters are looking awkward for him and La Ra- 
 bouilleuse. He has concocted some plot against these Paris- 
 ians no doubt " 
 
 " It would be good fun to pack them off again." 
 
 " My grandfather," said Baruch, " is in a fright already at 
 having two more mouths to fill, and he would jump at any 
 excuse " 
 
 "Well, knights! " cried Max in a low voice as he came 
 up, "why are you gazing at the stars? They will not distill 
 kirsch on our heads. To La Cognette's! To La Cognette's! " 
 
 " To La Cognette's! " 
 
 The shout as of one voice produced a fearful din, that swept 
 across the little town like the hue of soldiers rushing on an 
 assault ; then utter silence fell. Next morning more than one 
 person would say to his neighbor : " Did you hear that fearful 
 yell last night at about one o'clock ? I thought there was a 
 fire somewhere." 
 
 A supper worthy of La Cognette cheered the eyes of the 
 two-and-twenty guests, for the order was present in all its 
 numbers. At two in the morning, when they were beginning 
 to siroter, a word of their own peculiar slang, fairly descrip- 
 tive of the art of drinking in sips and slowly tasting the wine, 
 Max addressed the meeting : 
 
 " My dear boys, this morning, in consequence of the never- 
 to-be-forgotten trick we played with Fario's cart, your grand 
 master was so grossly insulted on a point of honor by that base 
 corn-dealer, and a Spaniard to boot — Ah, those hulks ! — that 
 I am determined to let that miscreant feel the whole weight 
 of my vengeance, within the strict limits of our sports. After 
 considering the matter all day, I have hit on a plan for play- 
 ing him a capital trick, a trick that is enough to drive him 
 mad. While avenging the order attacked in my person, we 
 may (cA certain animals worshiped by the Fgyptians, little
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 193 
 
 beasts which are, after all, God's creatures, though men perse- 
 cute them unjustly. Good comes of evil, and evil of good ; 
 such is the divine law ! I require you each and all, under 
 pain of your humble servant and grand master's displeasure, 
 to procure, as secretly as possible, twenty rats, or, if possible, 
 lady rats expecting families by God's grace. You must col- 
 lect your contingent within three days. If you can get more, 
 the surplus will be acceptable. Keep these interesting rodents 
 without food, for it is essential that the dear little beasts should 
 be ravenously hungry. Observe, I include as rats, mice and 
 field-mice. If we multiply twenty by twenty-two, we shall 
 have more than four hundred accomplices, who, when turned 
 out in the old church of the Capuchins, where Fario has 
 stored all the seed-corn he has just laid in, will consume a 
 certain quantity of it. But we must look sharp ! Fario is to 
 deliver a large parcel of seeds in a week ; now what I want is 
 that my Spanish friend, who is traveling round for orders, 
 should find a fearful waste. 
 
 " Gentlemen, the merit of this invention is not mine," he 
 went on, noting signs of general approbation. " ' Render 
 unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's, and unto God the 
 things that are God's.' This is an imitation of Samson's 
 foxes in the Bible. But Samson was an incendiary, and con- 
 sequently not a philanthropist ; while we. like the Brahmins, 
 are the protectors of a persecuted race. Mademoiselle Flore 
 Brazier has already set all her mouse-traps, and Kouski, my 
 right hand, is hunting field-mice. I have spoken." 
 
 "I know," said Goddet junior, "where to get an animal 
 as good as forty rats single-handed." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " A squirrel." 
 
 "And I can contribute a small monkey who will eat corn 
 till he bursts," said a novice. 
 
 "No good!" said Max. "It will be known where the 
 beasts come from." 
 13
 
 194 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 "In the course of the night," said young Beaussier, "we 
 might bring in one pigeon from the pigeon-house of each 
 farm in the neighborhood, by putting it through a hole made 
 in the roof, and there soon would be thousands of pigeons." 
 " Well, then, for a week Fario's corn-store is the order of 
 the night," said Gilet, smiling at the tall youth Beaussier 
 junior. " You know that they are astir early at Saint- 
 Paterne. Mind no one is to go there without having put the 
 soles of his list-shoes on hind part before. Our good knight 
 Beaussier, the inventor of the pigeon trick, takes the com- 
 mand. For my part, I will take care to leave my mark on 
 the grain. I leave it to you to be quartermasters-general to 
 the forces of rats. If the shop-boy sleeps in the old church, 
 his companions must make him drunk ; and do it cleverly, so 
 as to get him far away from the banquet to be provided for 
 the rodents." 
 
 "And you say nothing about the Parisians?" asked 
 Goddet. 
 
 "Oh ! " said Max, " they must be studied. At the same 
 time, I will give my fine fowling-piece, that came to me from 
 the Emperor, a first-class article from the Versailles factory — 
 it is worth two thousand francs — to any one who will hit upon 
 a plan for playing these Parisians some trick to get them into 
 such bad odor with Monsieur and Madame Hochon that the 
 old folks should pack them off, or that they should go of their 
 own accord ; without causing too much annoyance, however, 
 to the ancestors of my good friends Francois and Baruch." 
 
 "All right, I will think it over," said young Goddet, who 
 was passionately addicted to shooting. 
 
 "And if the inventor of the play does not want the gun, 
 he may have my horse," added Maxence. 
 
 Thenceforth twenty brains were vainly racked to concoct 
 some plot against Agathe and her son, in conformity with this 
 programme. But the devil alone, or some chance, could 
 succeed ; the conditions of the case made it so difficult.
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 195 
 
 Next morning Agathe and Joseph came downstairs a minute 
 before the second breakfast at ten o'clock. The meal called 
 the first breakfast consisted of a cup of milk and a slice of 
 bread and butter, eaten in bed or on getting up. 
 
 While waiting for Madame Hochon, who, in spite of old 
 age, carefully went through all the ceremonies employed in 
 their toilet by the duchesses of Louis XV. 's reign, Joseph 
 saw, on the threshold of the house opposite, Jean-Jacques 
 Rouget standing squarely in the doorway. He, naturally, 
 pointed him out to his mother, who could not recognize her 
 brother, so little was he like what he had been when they 
 parted. 
 
 "There is your brother," said Adolphine, who had given 
 her grandmother her arm. 
 
 " What an idiot ! " cried Joseph. 
 
 Agathe clasped her hands and looked up to heaven ; then 
 exclaimed — 
 
 " What have they brought him to? Good heavens ! is that 
 a man of fifty-seven ? " 
 
 She wished to look at him attentively, and then saw Flore 
 Brazier come up behind him, her hair dressed without a cap, 
 and displaying, through the gauze of a kerchief trimmed with 
 lace, snowy shoulders and a dazzling bosom ; she was dressed 
 as elaborately as a rich courtesan, wearing a tightly fitting 
 gown of grenadine — a silk stuff then very fashionable — with 
 gigot sleeves, and magnificent bracelets on her wrists. A gold 
 chain meandered over the bodice of La Rabouilleuse, who 
 had brought Jean-Jacques his black silk cap that he might not 
 catch cold — it was evidently a got-up scene. 
 
 " What a lovely woman ? " cried Joseph. " Of a rare kind, 
 too ! Made to be painted, as we say ! What flesh-tints, what 
 splendid coloring ! What a skin, what curves, and what 
 shoulders ! She is a magnificent Caryatid ! And a perfect 
 model for a Titian's Venus ! " 
 
 To Adolphine and Madame Hochon this might have been
 
 196 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 Greek ; but Agathe, behind her son, made a sign to them as 
 much as to say that she was accustomed to this jargon. 
 
 "You think a woman lovely who is robbing you of a for- 
 tune ! " exclaimed Madame Hochon. 
 
 " That does not prevent her being a splendid model ! 
 Exactly full enough, without the hips or bust having become 
 coarse " 
 
 "My dear, you are not in your studio," said Agathe. 
 "Adolphine is here " 
 
 "To be sure, I beg pardon ; but, really, all the way from 
 Paris along the road I saw none but apes " 
 
 " But, my dear godmother," said Agathe, " how can I see 
 my brother ? For if that creature is with him " 
 
 "Pooh ! " said Joseph. " I will go to see him. For, in- 
 deed, I don't think him quite such an idiot if he has wit 
 enough to gladden his eyes with a Venus worthy of Titian." 
 
 " If he were not an idiot," said Monsieur Hochon, coming 
 in, " he would have married comfortably, have had a family, 
 and you would have had no chance at all of his fortune. 
 Some good comes out of evil." 
 
 " That is a good idea of your son's; he can go first to call 
 on his uncle," said Madame Hochon. " He will give him to 
 understand that if you go he must receive you alone." 
 
 "And so affront Mademoiselle Brazier?" said Monsieur 
 Hochon. " No, no, madame. Put up with this grievance. 
 If you do not get the fortune, try to secure a legacy." 
 
 The Hochons were no match for Maxence- Gilet. In the 
 middle of breakfast the Pole arrived with a note from his 
 master, Monsieur Rouget, addressed to his sister, Madame 
 Bridau. 
 
 Here is the letter which Madame Hochon made her hus- 
 band read — 
 
 <« 
 
 My dear Sister: — I hear through strangers of your 
 arrival at Issoudun. I can guess the reason for your pre-
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 197 
 
 ferring Monsieur and Madame Hochon's house to mine ; but 
 if you come to see me, you shall be received here as you 
 ought to be. I should be the first to call on you but that my 
 health compels me at present to keep the house. I offer you 
 my affectionate respects. I should be delighted to meet your 
 son, whom I shall hope to see at dinner with me to-day, for 
 young men are less precise than women as to the company 
 they meet. He will give me great pleasure by coming accom- 
 panied by Messieurs Baruch Borniche and Francois Hochon. 
 "Your affectionate brother, 
 
 "J. -J. ROUGET." 
 
 " Say that we are at breakfast, that Madame Bridau will 
 send an answer presently, and the gentlemen accept the invi- 
 tation," said Monsieur Hochon to the maid. And the old 
 man laid his finger on his lip to impress silence on all the 
 party. 
 
 When the house-door was shut, Monsieur Hochon, having 
 no suspicion of the alliance between his grandsons and Max- 
 ence, shot one of his keenest glances at his wife and Agathe. 
 
 "He no more wrote that," said he, "than I am able 
 to pay down twenty-five louis. The soldier is our corre- 
 spondent." 
 
 " What does it all mean ?" said Madame Hochon. " Never 
 mind, we will answer it. You, monsieur," she added, turn- 
 ing to the painter, " will dine there, I hope; but if " 
 
 The old lady stopped short at a look from her husband. 
 Seeing the warmth of his wife's affection for Agathe, old 
 Hochon feared lest she should leave her goddaughter some 
 legacy in the event of her losing all the Rouget property. 
 Though he was fifteen years the elder, the miser hoped to 
 survive her, and to see himself one day master of everything. 
 This hope was his ruling idea. So Madame Hochon had 
 rightly guessed that the way to extract some concessions from 
 her husband was to threaten that she would make a will.
 
 198 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 So Monsieur Hochon sided with his guests. The Rouget 
 fortune, which hung in the balance, was in fact enormous ; 
 and his sense of social justice made him wish to see it in the 
 hands of the natural heirs rather than grabbed by disreputable 
 outsiders. Again, the sooner the business was settled, the 
 sooner would he be rid of his visitors. Since the struggle, 
 which till now had been only a scheme of his wife's, had 
 actually begun between the rightful heirs and the unrighteous 
 schemers, Monsieur Hochon's mind had waked up from the 
 sleep induced by provincial life. Madame Hochon was quite 
 agreeably surprised when, that very morning, she understood, 
 from some kindly expression of old Hochon's with regard to 
 her goddaughter, that this competent and wily auxiliary was 
 on the side of the Bridaus. 
 
 By noon the combined talents of Monsieur and Madame 
 Hochon, of Agathe and Joseph — a good deal surprised to 
 find the two old people so careful in their choice of words — 
 had brought to birth the following reply for the especial 
 benefit of Flore and Maxence : 
 
 " My dear Brother : — If I have waited thirty years with- 
 out revisiting this town, or keeping up any intercourse with 
 any one in it, not even with you, the fault lies not alone with 
 the strange and false ideas my father had formed against me, 
 but partly with the misfortunes and with the happiness of my 
 life in Paris ; for, though God made me a happy wife, He has 
 sorely stricken me as a mother. You cannot but know that 
 my son, your nephew Philippe, lies under a capital charge of 
 treason in consequence of his devotion to the Emperor. 
 Hence, you will not be surprised to hear that a widow, com- 
 pelled to earn her living by accepting a humble employment 
 in a lottery office, should have come to seek consolation and 
 substantial help from those who have known her from her 
 birth. 
 
 "The profession taken up by the son who is with me is one
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 199 
 
 of those which demand great talent, great sacrifices, and long 
 study before leading to any success. Glory precedes fortune 
 in this career. Is not this as much as to say that even if 
 Joseph makes his name famous, he will still be poor? 
 
 " I, your sister, my dear Jean-Jacques, would have endured 
 in silence the effects of our father's injustice, but forgive me 
 as a mother for reminding you that you have two nephews — 
 one who served on the Emperor's staff at the battle of Mon- 
 tereau and fought with the Imperial Guard at Waterloo, and 
 who is now in prison ; the other who, from the age of thir- 
 teen, has been led by a vocation into a difficult though 
 splendid career. 
 
 "So I thank you, my dear brother, with heartfelt warmth, 
 for your letter, both on my own account and on Joseph's ; 
 he will certainly wait on you at your invitation. Ill health 
 excuses everything, my dear Jean-Jacques ; I will see you in 
 your own house. A sister is always at home in her brother's 
 house, whatever life he may choose to lead. 
 
 " Accept my affectionate regards, 
 
 " Agathe Rouget." 
 
 "There, the battle has begun. When you go there," said 
 Monsieur Hochon, " you can speak plainly to him about his 
 nephews." 
 
 The letter was delivered by Gritte, who returned in ten 
 minutes to report to her superiors all she had been able to see 
 or hear, as is the custom in the provinces. 
 
 " Madame," said she, " since last evening, all that part of 
 the house that madame had left " 
 
 " Madame — who? " asked old Hochon. 
 
 "Oh, they call La Rabouilleuse madame over there," 
 replied Gritte. 
 
 " She had left the drawing-room and everything that was 
 about Monsieur Rouget in a dreadful state ; but since yester- 
 day the house is all to rights again, as it was before Monsieur
 
 % 10 A BA CHEL OR 'S ESTABL ISHMENT. 
 
 Maxence came there. You could see yourself in everything. 
 Vedie told me that Kouski was out on horseback by six this 
 morning; he came in about nine, bringing in provisions. 
 Indeed, there is to be the best of dinners, a dinner fit for the 
 archbishop of Bourges. Little pans are standing in big pans, 
 and everything is in order in the kitchen. ' I mean to treat 
 my nephew handsomely,' the old fellow said, and made them 
 tell him all they were doing. The Rougets were highly flat- 
 tered by the letter, it would seem ; madame came out to tell 
 me so. Oh, she is dressed ! Such a dress ! I never saw any- 
 thing handsomer ! Madame has diamonds in her ears — two 
 diamonds worth a thousands crowns a piece, Vedie told me — 
 and lace ! and rings on her fingers, and bracelets good 
 enough for a shrine, and a silk gown fit for an altar front ! 
 And then says she to me : ' Monsieur is delighted to think 
 his sister is so ready and willing, and I hope she will allow us 
 to entertain her as she deserves. And we look forward to 
 her good opinion of us when she hears how welcome we make 
 her son. And monsieur is most impatient to see his nephew.' 
 Madame had little black satin shoes and stockings ! Oh, 
 really wonderful. Like flowers on the silk, and holes like 
 lace, and you see the pink flesh through. In short, she is up 
 to the nines ! With such a dear little apron in front of her, 
 that Vedie told me that apron alone cost two years of our 
 
 wages- 
 
 " Come, come, we must get ourselves up," said the artist, 
 smiling. 
 
 " Well, Monsieur Hochon, and what are you thinking 
 about ? " said the old lady, when Gritte had left the room. 
 
 Madame Hochon pointed to her husband sitting with his 
 head in his hands, and his elbows on the arms of his chair, 
 lost in thought. 
 
 "You have a Maitre Bonin to deal with," said the old 
 man. "You, young roan, with your notions, are no match 
 in a struggle with a scoundrel of such skill as Maxence.
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 201 
 
 Whatever I may say, you are sure to make some blunder ; but 
 at any rate tell me this evening all you see, hear, and do. 
 Go — and God be with you ! Try to have a few minutes alone 
 with your uncle. If in spite of all you can do, you fail in 
 that, it will throw some light on their scheme ; but if you are 
 alone with him for one instant — alone, without being over- 
 heard, mind you ! — you must speak very plainly to him as to 
 his position — which is not a becoming one — and plead your 
 mother's cause." 
 
 At four o'clock Joseph crossed the straits which divided 
 the Hochons' house from the Rougets', the avenue of sickly 
 lime trees, two hundred feet long, and as wide as the Grande 
 Narette. When the nephew appeared, Kouski, in freshly 
 blacked boots, black trousers, white waistcoat, and black coat, 
 led the way to announce him. 
 
 The table was ready laid in the sitting-room, and Joseph, 
 who easily identified his uncle, went straight up to him and 
 embraced him, bowing to Flore and Maxence. 
 
 " We have never met since I came into the world, my dear 
 uncle," said the painter gaily. " But better late than 
 never." 
 
 "You are very welcome, my dear boy," said the old man, 
 looking at his nephew with a bewildered air. 
 
 "Madame," said Joseph to Flore with an artist's enthu- 
 siasm, "this morning I was envying my uncle the pleasure 
 he enjoys of admiring you every day." 
 
 "Is she not beautiful?" said the old man, his dull eyes 
 almost sparkling. 
 
 " Beautiful enough to be a painter's model." 
 
 " Nephew," said the old man, his elbow being nudged by 
 Flore, "this is Monsieur Maxence Gilet, a man who served 
 the Emperor, like your brother, in the Imperial Guard." 
 
 Joseph rose and bowed. 
 
 "Your brother, I think, was a dragoon, and I was only a 
 mud-crusher," said Maxence.
 
 202 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 •■ On horseback or on foot," observed Flore, " you risked 
 your skin all the same." 
 
 Joseph studied Max as narrowly as Max studied Joseph. 
 Max was dressed like the young men of fashion of the day, 
 for he had his clothes from Paris. A pair of sky-blue cloth 
 trousers, very fully pleated, made the best of his feet by 
 showing only the tips of his boots and his spurs. His waist 
 was firmly held by a white waistcoat with fancy gold buttons, 
 laced behind to serve as a belt ; this waistcoat, buttoning to 
 the throat, set off his broad chest, and his black satin stock 
 obliged him to hold his head up like a soldier. His black 
 coat was extremely well cut. A handsome gold chain hung 
 from his waistcoat pocket, where a flat watch scarcely showed. 
 He was playing with one of the patent watch-keys just in- 
 vented by Breguet. 
 
 " He is a very good-looking fellow ! " said Joseph to him- 
 self, admiring as an artist the face full of life, the appearance 
 of strength, and the keen gray eyes inherited by Max from 
 his gentleman father. " My uncle must be a deadly old bore, 
 and that handsome girl has sought compensation. It is a case 
 of three in a boat, that is very clear." 
 
 At this moment Baruch and Francois came in. 
 
 "You have not yet seen the Tower of Issoudun ? " said 
 Flore to Joseph. " Well, if you like to take a little walk till 
 dinner is ready, which will not be for an hour yet, we will 
 show you the great curiosity of the town " 
 
 " With pleasure," said the artist, unable to discern the 
 smallest objection. 
 
 While Flore was putting on her bonnet, her gloves, and 
 her cashmere shawl, Joseph suddenly caught sight of the pic- 
 tures, and started to his feet as if some enchanter had touched 
 him with his wand. 
 
 " Ah, ha ! so you have pictures, uncle ? " said he, looking 
 at the one that had struck him. 
 
 "Yes," said the old fellow, " they came to me from the
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 203 
 
 Descoings, who, during the Revolution, bought up some of 
 the pickings of the convents and churches of Berry." 
 
 But Joseph was not listening. He went from picture to 
 picture. 
 
 '•'Magnificent!" he exclaimed. "Why, what a fine 
 thing ! That man did not spoil canvas. Bless me, why, 
 better and better ; as we see them at Nicolet's " 
 
 " There are seven or eight more, very large ones, in the 
 loft, that were kept for the sake of the frames," said Gilet. 
 
 " Let me see them," cried the artist, and Maxence took 
 him to the loft. 
 
 Joseph came down in raptures. Max said a word in La 
 Rabouilleuse's ear, and she led the old man to the window; 
 Joseph caught these words spoken in an undertone, but still 
 so that he could hear them — 
 
 "Your nephew is a painter; you can do nothing with 
 these pictures. Be good-natured, and give them to him." 
 
 "It would seem," said Rouget, leaning on Flore's arm, 
 and coming to the spot where his nephew stood in ecsta- 
 sies before an Albano — " it would seem that you are a 
 painter " 
 
 " Only a smudger as yet," said Joseph. 
 
 " What ever is that ? " said Flore. 
 
 "A beginner," said Joseph. 
 
 "Well," said Jean-Jacques, "if these pictures can be of 
 
 any use to you in your business, I will give them to you 
 
 But without the frames. The frames are gilt, and then they 
 are quaint ; I will put " 
 
 "Why, of course, uncle," cried Joseph, enchanted, "you 
 will put copies into them, which I will send you, and which 
 shall be of the same size." 
 
 " But that will take time, and you will want canvas and 
 paints," said Flore. " It will cost you money. Come, Pere 
 Rouget, suppose you offer your nephew a hundred francs for 
 each picture ; there are twenty-seven here, and I think there
 
 204 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 are eleven more in the loft, which are enormous, and ought 
 to cost double — say four thousand francs for the lot. Yes, 
 your uncle may very well spend four thousand francs on the 
 copies, since he is to keep the frames. You will have to get 
 frames too, and they say the frames cost more than the pic- 
 tures ; there is gold on them I say, monsieur," Flore 
 
 went on, shaking the old man's arm, "listen, that is not 
 dear : your nephew will charge you four thousand francs for 
 
 quite new pictures in the place of your old ones It is a 
 
 civil way of making him a present of the money," said she 
 in his ear. " He does not strike me as being very flush " 
 
 "Very well, nephew, I will pay you four thousand francs 
 for the copies " 
 
 " No, no," said Joseph honestly. " Four thousand francs 
 and the pictures are too much ; for the pictures, you see, are 
 of value." 
 
 "Why, accept it, booby," said Flore, "since he is your 
 uncle " 
 
 "Very well, I accept it," said Joseph, quite bewildered, 
 for he had recognized one picture as by Perugino. 
 
 So the artist looked quite gleeful as he went out, giving his 
 arm to La Rabouilleuse, which perfectly suited Max's pur- 
 pose. Neither Flore, nor Rouget, nor Max, nor any one at 
 Issoudun had any idea of the value of the pictures, and the 
 wily Max believed that he had purchased very cheaply Flore's 
 triumph as she marched proudly arm in arm with her master's 
 nephew, on the best possible terms with him, in the eyes of 
 the astonished townsfolk. People came to their doors to see 
 the victory of La Rabouilleuse over the family. This astound- 
 ing fact made the deep sensation on which Max had built his 
 hopes. So when the uncle and nephew went in at about five, 
 the talk in every household was of the perfect alliance be- 
 tween Flore and Max and Pere Rouget's nephew. And the 
 story of the gift of the pictures and the four thousand francs 
 was all over the town already.
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 205 
 
 The dinner, to which Lousteau, one of the judges, and the 
 mayor of Issoudun, was invited, was really splendid; it was 
 one of the country meals which last five hours. The finest 
 wines gave spirit to the conversation. Over the dessert, at 
 nine o'clock, the painter, seated between Flore and Max, 
 opposite his uncle, was almost hail-fellow with the officer, 
 whom he thought the best of good souls. At eleven o'clock 
 Joseph went home, a little screwed. As to old Rouget, Kouski 
 carried him to bed dead drunk ; he had eaten like a traveling 
 actor and drunk like the sands of the desert. 
 
 "Well, now," said Max, left alone with Flore, "is not 
 this better than sulking with them ? The Bridaus are well 
 received ; they will get some little presents, and loaded with 
 favors, they can only sing our praises ; they will go quietly 
 away, and leave us peaceably where we are. To-morrow morn- 
 ing Kouski and I between us will take out all those pictures, 
 and send them over for the painter to see them when he 
 wakes ; we will put the frames in the loft, and have the room 
 repapered with one of those varnished papers, with scenes on 
 it from Telemaque, such as I saw at Monsieur Mouilleron's." 
 
 "Why, that will be ever so much prettier! " cried Flore. 
 
 Joseph did not wake till noon next day. From his bed 
 he saw the pictures leaning one above another, having been 
 brought in without his hearing anything. While he was ex- 
 amining them afresh, and recognizing them as masterpieces, 
 studying the handling of each master, or finding their signa- 
 tures, his mother went to thank her brother and to see him, 
 urged to do so by old Hochon, who, knowing all the blunders 
 committed by Joseph the evening before, despaired of the 
 Bridaus' prospects. 
 
 " You have to deal with two very sharp customers. In all 
 my life I never met with so sly a fox as that soldier. War is 
 the making of these youths, it would seem. Joseph walked 
 into the trap. He appeared arm in arm with La Rabouilleuse.
 
 206 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 They have shut his mouth, no doubt, with wine, some rub- 
 bishy pictures, and four thousand francs. Your artist has not 
 cost Maxence dear." 
 
 The cunning old man had laid down a line of conduct for 
 his wife's goddaughter, instructing her to seem to agree with 
 Maxence and cajole Flore, so as to become to some extent 
 familiar with her, and obtain a few minutes' talk alone with 
 her brother. Madame Bridau was very well received by Jean- 
 Jacques, tutored by Flore. The old man was in bed, ill from 
 the excesses of the previous evening. As Agathe could not 
 attack him on serious questions at the very first moment, Max 
 had thought it correct and handsome to leave the brother and 
 sister to themselves. He had calculated judiciously. Poor 
 Agathe found her brother so ill that she would not deprive 
 him of Mademoiselle Brazier's attentions. 
 
 "Besides," she said to the old man, "I should wish to 
 know the person to whom I am indebted for my brother's 
 happiness." 
 
 These words gave the poor fellow evident pleasure ; he 
 rang and sent for Madame Brazier. Flore, as may be sup- 
 posed, was not far off. The female antagonists exchanged 
 salutes. La Rabouilleuse displayed the most obsequious care, 
 the tenderest attentions ; she thought monsieur's head was too 
 low and rearranged the pillows ; she was like a wife of yester- 
 day. And the old man overflowed with emotion. 
 
 " We owe you much gratitude, mademoiselle," said Agathe, 
 " for all the marks of attachment you have so long given to 
 my brother, and for the care with which you provide for his 
 happiness." 
 
 " It is very true, my dear Agathe," said the old man, " she 
 made me first know happiness ; and she is a woman full of 
 admirable qualities." 
 
 " And so, brother, you cannot reward her too highly ; you 
 ought to have made her your wife. Yes ! I am too religious 
 a woman not to wish that I might see you obey the precepts
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 207 
 
 of religion. You would both be the happier if you were not 
 at war with law and morality. I came here, my dear brother, 
 to appeal for help in very great trouble ; but do not imagine 
 that we intended to make the slightest remarks on the way in 
 which you may dispose of your fortune." 
 
 "Madame," said Flore, "we know that your father was 
 unjust to you. Your brother can tell you," she added, staring 
 hard at her victim, " that the only quarrels we have ever had, 
 he and I, have been about you. I tell monsieur that he owes 
 you part of the fortune of which you were robbed by my poor 
 benefactor — for he was my benefactor, your father was" — 
 she put on a tearful voice — "and I shall never forget him; 
 but your brother, madame, has listened to reason " 
 
 "Yes," said old Rouget, "when I make my will, you will 
 not be forgotten " 
 
 " We will not talk of that, brother ; you do not know yet 
 what my character is " 
 
 From these beginnings the upshot of this first visit may be 
 imagined. Rouget invited his sister to dinner for the next 
 day but one. 
 
 During these three days the Knights of Idlesse caught an 
 enormous number of rats, mice, and field-mice, which were 
 turned out starving one fine night among the seed-corn, to 
 the number of four hundred and thirty-six, among them many 
 mothers with young. Not satisfied with having quartered 
 these pensioners on Fario, the knights made some holes in 
 the roof of the old chapel, and put in ten pigeons brought 
 from ten different farmsteads. The creatures held high festi- 
 val, with all the greater freedom because Fario's boy was led 
 away by another young rascal, with whom he drank from 
 morning till night, taking no care whatever of his master's 
 merchandise. 
 
 Madame Bridau, in opposition to old Hochon's opinion, 
 believed that her brother had not yet made his will ; she 
 purposed asking him what his intentions were with regard to
 
 208 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 Mademoiselle Brazier, on the first opportunity she might find 
 of taking a walk with him alone ; for Max and Flore con- 
 stantly beguiled her with this hope, which was always de- 
 ceived. 
 
 Though the knights of the order all tried to hit on a 
 scheme for putting the two Parisians to flight, they devised 
 nothing but impossible follies. 
 
 Hence at the end of a week, half of the time the Bridaus 
 were to spend in Issoudun, they were no farther forward than 
 on the first day. 
 
 "Your lawyer does not know what a country town is," 
 said old Hochon to Madame Bridau. " What you came here 
 to do cannot be done in fourteen days, nor in fourteen 
 months. You would have to be constantly with your brother, 
 and instill into him some ideas of religion. You can only 
 undermine the fortress guarded by Flore and Maxence by 
 sapping it through a priest. That is my opinion, and it is 
 high time you should act on it." 
 
 "You have strange ideas of the priesthood," said Madame 
 Hochon to her husband. 
 
 " Oh ! " cried the old man. " There you are, you godly 
 people." 
 
 " God will not bless any endeavor that is based on sacri- 
 lege," said Madame Bridau. "To make use of religion for 
 such a Oh ! We should be worse than Flore ! " 
 
 This conversation took place at breakfast, and Francois 
 and Baruch both listened with open ears. 
 
 "Sacrilege!" cried old Hochon. "But if some good 
 abbe, as clever as others I have known, understood the predica- 
 ment in which you stand, he would not regard it as sacrilege 
 to lead home to God your brother's erring soul, to bring him 
 to true repentance for his sins, to persuade him to send away 
 the woman who is the cause of the scandal — providing for 
 her, of course — to point out to him that his conscience would 
 rest in peace if he only left a few thousand francs a year to
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 209 
 
 the archbishop's little seminary, and the remainder of his 
 fortune to his legitimate heirs." 
 
 The passive obedience exacted by the old miser from his 
 children, and handed down to his grandchildren, who had 
 indeed been left to his guardianship, and for whom he was 
 amassing a large fortune — doing by them, he was wont to say, 
 as he would do by himself— did not allow of the faintest sign 
 of astonishment or disapproval on the part of Baruch and 
 Francois ; but they exchanged glances full of meaning, telling 
 each other how fatal this idea would be to Max's interests. 
 
 "The truth is, madame," said Baruch, "if you wish to 
 inherit your brother's property, the only real way is this — 
 you must remain at Issoudun as long as it is necessary to 
 employ him " 
 
 " Mother," Joseph put in, " you will do well to write all 
 this to Desroches. For my part, I look for nothing more 
 from my uncle than what he has so kindly given me." 
 
 After assuring himself of the great value of the thirty-nine 
 pictures, Joseph had carefully unmounted the canvasses, then 
 pasted paper over them, laid each one over another flat in a 
 huge case, and addressed it by carrier to Desroches, to whom 
 he meant to send a letter of advise. This precious load had 
 been sent off the day before. 
 
 "You are cheaply paid off," said Monsieur Hochon. 
 
 "But I shall have no difficulty in getting a hundred and 
 fifty thousand francs for the pictures," said Joseph. 
 
 "A painter's notion!" said Monsieur Hochon, looking 
 dubiously at Joseph. 
 
 "Listen," said Joseph, turning to his mother, " I am going 
 to write to Desroches and explain the state of affairs here. 
 If he advises you to stay, you shall stay. As to your place 
 in the office, we can always find something else as good " 
 
 " My dear boy," said Madame Hochon, as they rose from 
 table, "I do not know what your uncle's pictures may be, 
 but they ought to be good, judging by the places they came 
 14
 
 210 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 from. If they are worth even forty thousand francs, a thou- 
 sand francs apiece, tell nobody. Though my grandchildren 
 are discreet and well brought up, they might, without mean- 
 ing any mischief, talk about this supposed treasure-trove ; all 
 Issoudun would hear of it and the foe must not suspect the 
 truth. You really behave like a child ! " 
 
 In point of fact, by midday many persons in Issoudun, and 
 foremost of all Maxence Gilet, had been informed of Joseph's 
 opinion, which led to a great hunt for old pictures that had 
 lain forgotten, and to the disinterment of some execrable 
 daubs. Max repented of having prompted the old man to 
 give away the pictures ; and his rage against the rightful heirs, 
 on learning old Hochon's scheme, was increased by what he 
 called his stupidity. Religious influence on this feeble crea- 
 ture was the only thing to be dreaded. Hence the warning 
 given him by his two allies confirmed Max in his determina- 
 tion to realize all Rouget's mortgages, and to borrow on his 
 land so as to invest in state securities at once. But he con- 
 sidered the necessity for getting rid of the Parisians as even 
 more pressing. Now the talents of a Mascarille or a Scapin 
 would have found this a hard problem to solve. 
 
 Flore, counseled by Max, began to say that monsieur tired 
 himself too much by taking walks ; that at his age he needed 
 carriage exercise. This was necessary as a pretext for the 
 expeditions to be made, without the neighbors knowing it, 
 to Bourges, Vierzon, ChSteauroux, and Vatan, wherever this 
 scheme for callinc; in his investments mi^ht reouire that Rou- 
 
 O Ox 
 
 get, Max, and Flore should go. So by the end of the week 
 all Issoudun was startled by the news that Pere Rouget had 
 sent to Bourges for a carriage, a step which the Knights of 
 Idlesse interpreted in favor of La Rabouilleuse. Flore and 
 Max purchased a hideous traveling-chaise with rickety windows 
 and a split-leather hood, that had seen two-and-twenty years 
 and nine campaigns ; this they bought at a sale on the death 
 of a colonel, a great friend of Marshal Bertrand's, who, dur-
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 211 
 
 ing the absence of the Emperor's faithful follower, had under- 
 taken the charge of his estates in Berry. This vehicle, painted 
 dark-green, was not unlike a barouche, but the pole had been 
 altered and shafts substituted, so that it could be drawn by 
 one horse. It was now one of those carriages which reduced 
 fortunes have made so fashionable, which, indeed, were hon- 
 estly designated as demi-fortunes, for they were originally 
 called sertngues. The lining of this demi-fortune ; sold as a 
 barouche, was moth-eaten ; the trimmings were like a pension- 
 er's stripes ; it rattled like old iron ; but it cost no more 
 than four hundred and fifty francs, and Max bought of the 
 troops in garrison at Bourges a strong, well-broken mare to 
 draw it. He had this vehicle repainted dark-brown, and 
 found a fairly good set of second-hand harness, and the town 
 of Issoudun was agitated from top to bottom, on the watch 
 for Pere Rouget's "turn-out." 
 
 The first time the old man made use of his barouche the 
 noise brought every household to the front door and all the 
 windows were full of peeping heads. The second time he 
 drove as far as Bourges, where, to avoid all further trouble in 
 connection with the transactions, advised — or, if you will, com- 
 manded — by Flore Brazier, he signed in the notary's office a 
 power of attorney in favor of Maxence Gilet, enabling him 
 to transfer all the moneys mentioned in the document. Flore 
 undertook to settle with monsieur as to the loans in Issoudun 
 and the immediate neighborhood. Rouget went to the first 
 notary in Bourges and desired him to find him a hundred and 
 forty thousand francs on the security of his land. 
 
 No one at Issoudun knew anything about these proceedings, 
 so quietly and cleverly carried out. Max, a good horseman, 
 could get to Bourges and back between five in the morning 
 and five in the afternoon on his horse, and Flore never left 
 the old man. Old Rouget had consented without demur to 
 the alterations which Flore had suggested to him ; but he 
 insisted that the bond bearing fifty thousand francs a year
 
 212 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 interest should stand as life-interest only in Mademoiselle 
 Brazier's name, and that the capital should remain his abso- 
 lutely. The tenacity displayed by the old man in the private 
 struggle which arose over this question made Max very un- 
 easy, for he fancied he could discern in it some reflections 
 inspired by the sight of his natural heirs. 
 
 In the midst of these great changes, which Max hoped to 
 conceal from the prying townsfolk, he forgot the corn-dealer. 
 Fario was preparing to deliver his orders, after much traveling 
 and bargaining, with a view to raise the price of seed-corn. 
 But the day after his return to Issoudun, living opposite the 
 Capuchin chapel, he saw the roof black with pigeons. He 
 cursed himself for having neglected to examine the roof and 
 hastily went across to his storehouse, where he found half his 
 corn devoured. Myriads of traces left by mice, rats, and 
 field-mice betrayed another cause of the ruin. The church 
 was a perfect Noah's ark. But the Spaniard turned as white 
 as linen with fury when, on trying to calculate the extent of 
 the loss and damage, he discovered that the lower strata of 
 grain were soaked and sprouting, from a quantity of water 
 having been injected into the heart of the corn-heaps by 
 means of a tin tube — an idea of Max's. Pigeons and rats 
 might be accounted for by animal instinct ; but in this last 
 piece of malice the hand of man was evident. 
 
 Fario sat down on an altar-step in a side chapel, and hid 
 his head in his hands. After half an hour's meditations — a 
 Spaniard's meditations — on looking up, he saw the squirrel 
 which young Goddet had insisted on placing there as boarder, 
 playing with its tail on the transom supporting the roof-beam. 
 The Spaniard rose calmly, showing his shop-clerk a face as 
 impassive as an Arab's. Fario made no lamentation. He 
 went home, found some laborers to pack the good corn, and 
 spread what was damp in the sun to dry, so as to save as 
 much as possible ; then lie set to work to deliver his orders, 
 calculating the loss at three-fifths. But as his own transac-
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 213 
 
 tions had sent prices up, he lost again in repurchasing those 
 three-fifths ; thus his total loss was of more than half. 
 
 The corn-dealer, who had no enemies, unerringly attributed 
 this piece of revenge to Gilet. It was clear to him that Max 
 and some others, the inventors of so many nocturnal pranks, 
 had undoubtedly dragged his cart up to the tower and amused 
 themselves by ruining him ; his loss, indeed, amounted to a 
 thousand crowns, almost all the capital he had laboriously 
 accumulated since the peace. Inspired by the hope of re- 
 venge, the man put forth all the perseverance and acumen of 
 a spy who has been promised a handsome reward. Lurking 
 in ambush by night in the town, he obtained absolute proof 
 of the proceedings of the Knights of Idlesse ; he saw them, 
 he counted them ; he watched their trysts, and their suppers 
 at La Cognette's ; then he hid himself to witness one of their 
 tricks, and became familiar with their nocturnal doings. 
 
 In spite of his rides and his anxieties, Max would not neglect 
 this business of the night ; in the first place, to prevent any 
 one suspecting the grand financial operations carried on with 
 Pere Rouget's investments ; and, in the second place, to keep 
 his friends up to the mark. Now the order had agreed to 
 achieve a stroke which should be talked of for years. On a 
 certain night every watch-dog in the town and suburbs was 
 to have a pill of poison. Fario overheard them as they came 
 out of La Cognette's, chuckling beforehand over the success 
 of this practical joke, and the universal mourning to be caused 
 by this massacre of the innocents. Besides, what fears this 
 general execution would give rise to, by hinting at sinister 
 designs on the houses thus deprived of their guardians ! 
 
 " Fario's cart will be quite forgotten perhaps," said Goddet. 
 
 Fario no longer needed this speech to confirm his suspi- 
 cions ; besides, he had laid his plans. 
 
 After a stay of three weeks, Agathe, like Madame Hochon, 
 recognized the truth of the old miser's views — it would take
 
 214 A BACHELORS ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 years to counteract the influence exerted over her brother by 
 La Rabouilleuse and Max. Agathe had made no progress in 
 Jean-Jacques' confidence ; she had never been left alone with 
 him. On the contrary, Mademoiselle Brazier triumphed over 
 the heirs by taking Agathe out driving in the carriage, seated 
 by her on the back seat, while Monsieur Rouget and his 
 nephew sat in front. Mother and son anxiously awaited a 
 reply to their confidential letter to Desroches. 
 
 On the very eve of the day when the watch-dogs were to be 
 poisoned, Joseph, who was dying of weariness at Issoudun, 
 received two letters — one from Schinner, the great painter, 
 whose age allowed of a closer and more intimate acquaintance 
 than with Gros, their master, and the other from Desroches 
 The following was the first, bearing the stamp of Beaumont 
 sur-Oise : 
 
 " My dear Joseph : — I have finished the most importan 
 paintings in the Chateau de Presles for the Comte de Serizy. 
 I have left the borders and decorative panels ; and I have sc 
 strongly recommended you to the Count, and to Grindot, hie 
 architect, that you have only to pack up your brushes and 
 come. The prices agreed on will satisfy you. I am off to 
 Italy with my wife, so you can have Mistigris to help you 
 The young rascal is clever ; I place him at your service. He 
 is as lively as a Pierrot already at the idea of enjoying himself 
 at Presles. Farewell, my dear Joseph; if I am away and 
 send nothing to the next Salon, you must fill my place. Yes, 
 dear Jojo, your picture is a masterpiece, I am sure of it ; but i 
 a masterpiece that will raise a hue and cry of ' Romanticism !' 
 and you are preparing a life for yourself like that of the devil 
 in holy water. But, after all, as that rogue Mistigris says — he 
 transposes or puns on every proverb — life is bad to beat. 
 What on earth are you doing at Issoudun ? Farewell. 
 
 " Your friend, 
 
 "Schinner."
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 215 
 
 This was Desroches' letter : 
 
 " My dear Joseph : — Your Monsieur Hochon seems to me 
 an old man of great good sense, and you give me a high idea 
 of his intelligence ; he is perfectly right. And, since you ask 
 my opinion, I think your mother should stay at Issoudun with 
 Madame Hochon, paying a small sum, say four hundred francs 
 a year, as compensation for her board. Madame Bridau, I 
 should say, should be entirely guided by Monsieur Hochon's 
 advice. But your excellent mother will be full of scruples in 
 opposition to people who have none, and whose conduct 
 shows a masterly policy. That Maxence is a dangerous 
 fellow, you are right there ; he is a man of far stronger temper 
 than Philippe. This rascal makes his vices serve his fortunes ; 
 he does not amuse himself for nothing, like your brother, whose 
 follies were never of any use. All you tell me appalls me, for 
 I could not do much by going to Issoudun. Monsieur Hochon, 
 acting through your mother, will be of more use than I can be. 
 
 " As for you, you may as well come home ; you are of no 
 good at all in a business requiring constant alertness, minute 
 observation, servile attentions, discretion in speech, and dis- 
 simulation in looks — all quite antipathetic to an artist. If 
 they tell you there is no will, they have had one made a long 
 time since, you may be sure. But wills are not irrevocable ; 
 and as long as your imbecile uncle lives, he will certainly be 
 open to the influence of remorse and religion. Your fortune 
 will be the result of a pitched battle between the church and 
 La Rabouilleuse. A moment will inevitably come when that 
 woman will lose her power over the old man, and religion 
 will be all-powerful. So long as your uncle has made nothing 
 over to them by deed of gift, nor altered his investments and 
 holdings, at the moment when religion gets the upper hand 
 everything will be possible. 
 
 " You had better beg Monsieur Hochon to keep an eye as 
 far as possible on your uncle's possessions. It is important to
 
 216 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 ascertain whether he holds mortgages, and how and in whose 
 name the deeds are drawn. It is so easy to fill an old man 
 with fears for his life when he is stripping himself of his 
 property in favor of strangers, that a rightful heir with a very 
 little cunning can nip such spoliations in the bud. But is 
 your mother, with her ignorance of the world, her disin- 
 terestedness, and her religious ideas, a likely person to manage 
 such an intrigue? 
 
 " In short, I can only explain the position. What you 
 have done so far must have given the alarm, and perhaps your 
 antagonists are taking steps to protect themselves." 
 
 "That is what I call sound advice, kindly given ! " cried 
 Monsieur Hochon, proud of finding himself appreciated by a 
 Paris attorney. 
 
 " Oh, Desroches is a capital good fellow," said Joseph. 
 
 " It might be useful to show that letter to the two women," 
 said the old man. 
 
 "Here it is," said Joseph, giving the letter to Hochon. 
 "As for me, I will be off to-morrow and will go to take 
 leave of my uncle." 
 
 "Ah!" said Monsieur Hochon, "I see that in a post- 
 script Monsieur Desroches desires you to burn the letter." 
 
 " Burn it after showing it to my mother," said the painter. 
 
 Joseph Bridau dressed, crossed the little avenue, and was 
 shown in to his uncle, who was just finishing breakfast. Max 
 and Flore were at table with him. 
 
 " Do not disturb yourself, my dear uncle; I have come to 
 take leave of you." 
 
 " You are going ? " said Max with a look at Flore. 
 
 "Yes, I have some work to do at Monsieur de Serizy's 
 chateau, and I am all the more eager because he has a long 
 enough arm to be of service to my poor brother with the 
 supreme court." 
 
 " Well, well ; work," said the old man, with a stupid look,
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 217 
 
 and indeed Rouget seemed to Joseph extraordinarily altered. 
 "You must work. I am sorry you are going " 
 
 "Oh, my mother will remain some time yet," replied 
 Joseph. 
 
 Max gave his lips a twist, which conveyed to the house- 
 keeper, " They are going to act on the plan Baruch spoke 
 of." 
 
 "I am very glad I came," Joseph went on, "for I have 
 had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, and you have 
 enriched my studio." 
 
 "Yes, indeed!" said La Rabouilleuse, "instead of en- 
 lightening your uncle as to the value of the pictures, which is 
 said to be more than a hundred thousand francs, you packed 
 them off to Paris pretty quick. Poor, dear man, he is like a 
 
 child Why, I have just been told that there is at Bourges 
 
 a little Poulet — I mean a Poussin — which was in the cathedral 
 before the Revolution., and that alone is worth thirty thou- 
 sand francs." 
 
 "That was not right, nephew," said the old man, at a nod 
 from Max, which Joseph could not see. 
 
 " Come, now, honestly," said the soldier, laughing, "on 
 your honor, what do you suppose your pictures are worth? 
 By Jove ! you have jockeyed your uncle very prettily. Well, 
 you had a right to do it. Uncles are made to be plundered. 
 Nature bestowed no uncles on me ; but, by all that's holy, if 
 I had any, I would not spare them ! " 
 
 "Did you know, monsieur," asked Flore of Rouget, "how 
 much your pictures were worth ? How much did you say, 
 Monsieur Joseph ? " 
 
 "Well," said the painter, turning as red as a beet-root, 
 " the pictures are worth a good round sum." 
 
 "It is said that you valued them at a hundred and fifty 
 thousand francs to Monsieur Hochon. Is that true ? " 
 
 " Yes," said the painter, as candid as a child. 
 
 "And had you any intention," said Flore to the old man,
 
 218 A BACHELORS ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 "of giving your nephew a hundred and fifty thousand 
 francs ? ' ' 
 
 "Never, never," cried Rouget, on whom Flore had fixed 
 a steady eye. 
 
 "It is quite easily settled," said the painter. " I will send 
 them back to you, uncle." 
 
 " No, no, keep them," said the old fellow. 
 
 "I will send them back, uncle," repeated Joseph, offended 
 by the insulting silence of Maxence Gilet and Flore Brazier. 
 " I have in my brush the means of making my fortune, with- 
 out owing anything to anybody — even to my uncle. I wish 
 you good-day, mademoiselle. Good-morning, monsieur." 
 
 And Joseph recrossed the road in a state of irritation which 
 an artist may conceive of. All the Hochon family were in 
 the sitting-room. Seeing Joseph gesticulating and muttering 
 to himself, they inquired what was the matter. Then, before 
 Baruch and Francois, the painter, as open as the day, repeated 
 the scene he had just gone through, which, in a couple of 
 hours was the talk of the whole town, every one embroidering 
 the story with more or less impudent additions. Some main- 
 tained that the painter had been roughly handled by Max, 
 others that he had been insolent to Mademoiselle Brazier, 
 and that Max had turned him out of the house. 
 
 " Oh, what a child your boy is ! " said Hochon to Madame 
 Bridau. " The simple fellow has been fooled by a scene gotten 
 up for the day when he should be leaving. Why, Max and 
 La Rabouilleuse have known for this fortnight past what the 
 value of the pictures is, since Joseph was so silly as to mention 
 it in the presence of my grandsons, who were only too eager 
 to repeat it to all the world. Your artist ought to have left 
 without notice." 
 
 " My son is right to restore the pictures if they are so 
 valuable," said Agathe. 
 
 " If they are worth two hundred thousand francs, by his 
 account," said old Hochon, "he is an idiot for allowing
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 219 
 
 himself to be compelled to return them ; for, at any rate, 
 you would have had that much of the property, whereas, 
 as matters stand, you will get nothing ! And this is almost 
 reason enough for your brother to refuse to see you again." 
 
 Between midnight and one in the morning the Knights of 
 Idlesse began their distribution of free rations to the dogs of 
 the town. This memorable expedition ended only at three 
 in the morning, and then the mischievous wretches met for 
 supper at La Cognette's. At half-past four, in the morning 
 twilight, they crept home. At the instant when Max turned 
 out of the Rue de l'Avenier into the Grand' Rue, Fario, 
 in ambush in a recess, stabbed him with a knife, aiming 
 straight at the heart, pulled out the weapon, and fled to the 
 moat by La Villate, where he wiped the knife on his handker- 
 chief. The Spaniard then rinsed the handkerchief in the 
 " borrowed stream," and quietly went home to Saint-Paterne, 
 where he went to bed, getting in at a window he had left un- 
 fastened ; his new shop-boy woke him next morning, finding 
 him sound asleep. 
 
 Max as he fell uttered a fearful shriek, too genuine to be 
 misunderstood. Lousteau-Prangin, the son of a magistrate, 
 a distant relation of the late sub-delegate, and young Goddet, 
 who both lived at the bottom of the Grand' Rue, ran up the 
 street again as fast as they could fly, saying, " Max is being 
 killed ! Help ! " But not a dog barked, and the inhabitants, 
 inured to the tricks of these night-birds, did not stir. 
 
 When the two knights came up Max had fainted. It was 
 necessary to call up Monsieur Goddet the elder. Max had 
 recognized Fario ; but when, at five in the morning, he had 
 fully recovered his wits, seeing himself surrounded by several 
 persons, and feeling that the wound was not mortal, it sud- 
 denly struck him that he might take advantage of this 
 attempted murder, and he exclaimed in a feeble voice, "I 
 fancied I saw the eyes and face of that damned painter."
 
 220 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 Upon this, Lousteau-Prangin ran off to fetch his father, the 
 examining judge. Max was carried home by old Cognet, 
 the younger Goddet, and two men whom they got out of bed. 
 La Cognette and Goddet senior walked by the side of Max, 
 who was laid on a mattress placed on two poles. Monsieur 
 Goddet would do nothing till Max was in his bed. 
 
 Those who carried him naturally looked across at Hochon's 
 house while Kouski was getting up, and they saw the woman- 
 servant sweeping. In this house, as in most country places, 
 the door was opened at a very early hour. The only words 
 Max had spoken had aroused suspicion, and the surgeon called 
 across the road — 
 
 " Gritte, is Monsieur Joseph Bridau in bed?" 
 
 " Dear me," said she, " he went out at about half-past four ; 
 he walked up and down his room all night. I can't think 
 what had taken him." 
 
 "A pretty fellow, is your painter ! " said one and another. 
 
 And the party went in, leaving the woman in consterna- 
 tion ; she had seen Max lying on the mattress, his shirt 
 stained with blood, apparently dying. 
 
 What had "taken" Joseph and disturbed him all night, 
 every artist will understand. He pictured himself as the talk 
 of Issoudun ; he was supposed to be a sharper, anything but 
 what he wanted to be — an honest fellow, a hard-working 
 artist. He would have given his own picture to be able to 
 fly like a swallow to Paris and fling his uncle's pictures in 
 Max's face. To be the victim and to be thought the spoiler ! 
 What a mockery ! And so at daybreak he had rushed out of 
 the house, and was pacing the avenue of poplars leading to 
 Tivoli to walk off his excitement. While the innocent youth 
 was promising himself, by way of consolation, never to set 
 foot in the place again, Max was preparing for him a catas- 
 trophe full of horror to a sensitive mind. 
 
 As soon as Monsieur Goddet had probed the wound, and 
 ascertained that the knife, turned by a little pocket-book, had
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 221 
 
 happily missed aim, though it had left a frightful gash, he did 
 as all doctors do, and especially country surgeons — he gave 
 himself airs of importance, and " could not answer for the 
 patient's life." Then, after dressing the rascally soldier's 
 wound, he went away. This medical verdict he repeated to 
 La Rabouilleuse, to Jean-Jacques Rouget, to Kouski, and 
 Vedie. La Rabouilleuse went back to her dear Max drowned 
 in tears, while Kouski and Vedie informed the crowd assem- 
 bled at the door that the captain was as good as done for. 
 The result of this news was that above two hundred persons 
 collected in groups on the Place Saint-Jean and in the upper 
 and lower Narette. 
 
 " I shall not be in bed a month," said Max to Flore, " and 
 I know who struck the blow. But we will take advantage of 
 it to get rid of the Parisians. I said I fancied I had recog- 
 nized the painter ; so pretend that I am dying and try to 
 have Joseph Bridau arrested ; we will give him a taste of 
 prison for a couple of days. I think I know the mother well 
 enough to feel sure that she will be off to Paris then post- 
 haste with her painter. Then we need no longer fear the 
 volley of priests they talked of firing at our old idiot." 
 
 When Flore Brazier went down she found the mob quite 
 prepared to receive the impression she wished to make on 
 them ; she appeared before them with tears in her eyes and 
 remarked that the painter, "who for that matter looked bad 
 enough for anything," had quarreled fiercely with Max the 
 day before about the pictures he had "boned" from Pere 
 Rouget. "That brigand — for you have only to look in his 
 face to feel sure — thinks that if Max were out of the way 
 his uncle would leave him his fortune. As if," added she, 
 " a brother wasn't closer than a nephew ! Max is Doctor 
 Rouget's son ; the old man owned up as much afore he died." 
 
 "Ay, he thought he could do the trick before he left; he 
 planned it very neatly; he is going to-day," said one of the 
 Knights of Idlesse.
 
 222 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 "Max has not a single enemy in the town," observed an- 
 other. 
 
 "Besides, Max recognized the painter," said La Rabouil- 
 leuse. 
 
 " Where is that damned Parisian ? Let us find him," cried 
 one and another. 
 
 " Find him ? Why, he stole out of Monsieur Hochon's 
 house before daylight." 
 
 One of the knights at once ran off to find Monsieur Mouil- 
 leron. The crowd was still swelling, and voices grew threat- 
 ening. Excited groups filled the whole of the Grande Narette ; 
 others stood in front of the church of Saint-Jean. A mob 
 filled the Villate gate where the lower Narette ends. It was 
 impossible to stir above or below the Place Saint-Jean. It 
 was like the fag-end of a procession. And Messieurs Lous- 
 teau-Prangin and Mouilleron, with the superintendent of 
 police, the lieutenant of the gendarmerie, and his sergeant 
 with two gendarmes, had some difficulty in getting to the 
 spot, which they reached between two hedges of the populace, 
 whose shouts and yells could not fail to prejudice them against 
 the "Parisian," to whom circumstantial evidence pointed so 
 strongly although he was unjustly accused. 
 
 After an interview between Max and the lawyers, Monsieur 
 Mouilleron sent the superintendent of police and the sergeant, 
 with one gendarme, to examine what, in the language of 
 police reports, is called the scene of the crime. Then Mouil- 
 leron and Lousteau-Prangin, escorted by the lieutenant, crossed 
 from Pere Rouget's house to Monsieur Hochon's, which was 
 guarded at the garden entrance by two gendarmes, while two 
 more were posted at the street-door. The mob was still col- 
 lecting ; the whole town was in a hubbub in the Grand' Rue. 
 
 Gritte had long since flown, breathless with terror, to her 
 master's room, exclaiming — 
 
 " Monsieur, they are going to rob the house. All the town 
 is in a riot ! Monsieur Maxence Gilet is killed ; he is going
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 223 
 
 to die ! And they say that it was Monsieur Joseph that 
 stabbed him ! " 
 
 Monsieur Hochon hastily dressed and came down ; but see- 
 ing the furious crowd, he at once retreated within doors and 
 barred the entrance. On questioning Gritte he ascertained 
 that his guest, after walking about all night in great excite- 
 ment, had gone out before daylight, and that he had not 
 come in. Much alarmed he went to his wife's room — the 
 noise had just aroused her — and told her the horrible report, 
 which, true or false, had brought all Issoudun out to the Place 
 Saint-Jean. 
 
 " Of course he is innocent ! " said Madame Hochon. 
 
 "But before his innocence is proved the mob may force 
 their way in and rob us," said Monsieur Hochon, who had 
 turned ashy pale. He had gold in his cellars. 
 
 "And Agathe? " 
 
 " She is sleeping like a marmot." 
 
 "Ah, so much the better," said Madame Hochon; "I 
 only wish she could sleep on till this matter is cleared up. 
 Such a blow might kill the poor child." 
 
 But Agathe soon awoke ; she came down half-dressed, for 
 Gritte's hints and concealments, when she questioned the 
 woman, had sickened her heart and brain. She found Mad- 
 ame Hochon pale and her eyes full of tears, standing at one 
 of the drawing-room windows with her husband. 
 
 "Courage, my child! God sends us all our troubles," 
 said the old lady. " Joseph is accused " 
 
 "Of what?" 
 
 "Of a wicked deed he cannot possibly have done," said 
 Madame Hochon. 
 
 On hearing this speech, and seeing the lieutenant of the 
 watch come in with Messieurs Lousteau-Prangin and Mouil- 
 leron, Agathe fainted away. 
 
 "Look here," said Monsieur Hochon to his wife and 
 Gritte, "just carry Madame Bridau away. Women are only
 
 224 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 a trouble under such circumstances. Go away, both of you, 
 with her and stay in your room. Gentlemen, pray be seated," 
 added the old man. "The mistake to which we owe this 
 visit will, I hope, soon be cleared up." 
 
 " Even if it is a mistake," said Monsieur Mouilleron, " the 
 mob are so madly exasperated and excited to such a pitch 
 that I am alarmed for the accused. I wish I could get him 
 to the court-house, and soothe the public mind." 
 
 "Who could have imagined that Monsieur Maxence Gilet 
 was so much beloved ? " said Lousteau-Prangin. 
 
 " There are twelve hundred people at this moment pouring 
 out of the Roman suburb," said the lieutenant, "so one of 
 my men has just told me — and shrieking for the assassin's 
 death." 
 
 " Where is your guest?" asked Monsieur Mouilleron. 
 
 " He is gone for a walk in the country, I believe," said 
 Hochon. 
 
 "Call back Gritte," said the examining judge gravely. 
 "I hoped that Monsieur Bridau might not have left the 
 house. You know, of course, that the crime was committed 
 only a few yards from this house, just at daybreak ? " 
 
 While Monsieur Hochon went to fetch Gritte, the three 
 functionaries exchanged glances full of meaning. 
 
 "I never took to that painter's face," said the lieutenant 
 to Monsieur MouilleMm. 
 
 "Listen to me," said the lawyer to Gritte, as she came in. 
 " You saw Monsieur Joseph Bridau go out this morning, I am 
 told?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," replied she, shaking like a leaf. 
 
 "At what hour? " 
 
 " Directly after I got up; for he was tramping in his room 
 all night, and he was dressed when I came down." 
 
 "Was it daylight?" 
 
 "Twilight." 
 
 " And he seemed excited ? "
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 225 
 
 " I should think he did ! — he seemed to me quite how- 
 come-you-so." 
 
 " Send one of your men for my clerk," said Lousteau- 
 Prangin to the lieutenant, " and tell him to bring forms " 
 
 " Good God ! don't be in a hurry," said Monsieur Hochon. 
 "The young man's excitement may be accounted for without 
 any premeditated crime. He is starting for Paris to-day in 
 consequence of a matter in which Gilet and Mademoiselle 
 Flore Brazier chose to doubt his honesty." 
 
 "Yes, the business about the pictures," said Monsieur 
 Mouilleron. " It was the cause of a vehement quarrel yester- 
 day, and artists are always ready to catch fire under the thatch, 
 as they say." 
 
 " Who in all Issoudun would have any interest in killing 
 Max?" said Lousteau. "Nobody; no jealous husband, no 
 one whatever, for the man has never injured any one." 
 
 " But what was Monsieur Gilet doing in the streets at half- 
 past four in the morning?" asked Monsieur Hochon of the 
 officers of the law. 
 
 " Look here, Monsieur Hochon, leave us to manage our 
 own business," replied Mouilleron. "You do not know all. 
 Max saw and knew your painter " 
 
 At this instant a roar started from the bottom of the town, 
 increasing as it rolled up the Grande Narette like the advance 
 of a peal of thunder. 
 
 "Here he is! — here he is! They have him!" These 
 words stood out clearly above the deep bass of a terrific 
 growl from the mob. In fact, poor Joseph Bridau, coming 
 quietly home past the mill at Landrole to be in time for 
 breakfast, was seen as he reached the Place Misere by every- 
 body at once. Happily for him, two men at arms came 
 running down to rescue him from the mob of the Roman 
 suburb, who had already seized him roughly by the arms, 
 threatening to kill him. 
 
 "Make way! Clear out!" said the gendarmes, calling 
 15
 
 220 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 two others to come and walk one in front and one behind 
 Bridaa. 
 
 " You see, monsieur," said one of the four who had taken 
 hold of him, " our skin is in danger at this moment as much 
 as yours. Innocent or guilty, we must protect you against 
 the riot caused by the murder of Captain Gilet ; these people 
 will not be satisfied with accusing you ; they believe you to be 
 the assassin as sure as death. Monsieur Gilet is worshiped 
 by those men — look at them ; they would love to execute jus- 
 tice on you themselves. We saw them in 1830 when they 
 thrashed the excise men ; it was no joke, I can tell you." 
 
 Joseph Bridau turned as pale as death, and collected all his 
 strength to keep on his feet. 
 
 "After all," said he, "I had nothing to do with it. Come 
 on!" 
 
 And he had to bear his cross ! He was the object of yells, 
 abuse, threats of death, at every step of the horrible walk from 
 the Place Misere to the Place Saint-Jean. The gendarmes 
 were obliged to draw their swords to intimidate the angry 
 crowd who threw stones at them. The force barely escaped 
 being hurt, and some of the missiles hit Joseph's legs, 
 shoulders, and hat. 
 
 " Here we are," said one of the men, as they went into 
 Monsieur Hochon's room; "and it was not an easy job, 
 lieutenant." 
 
 " Now, the next thing is to disperse this crowd, and I see 
 but one way, gentlemen," said the officer to the magistrates. 
 " It is to get Monsieur Bridau to the Palais de Justice by 
 making him walk between you. I and all my men will keep 
 close round you. It is impossible to answer for what may 
 happen when you are face to face with six thousand furious 
 creatures." 
 
 "You are right," said Monsieur Hochon, still quaking for 
 his gold. 
 
 " If that is the best way you have at Issoudun of protecting
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 227 
 
 innocence, I must congratulate you ! " said Joseph. " I have 
 already been within an ace of being stoned " 
 
 " Do you want to see your host's house attacked and pil- 
 laged ? " said the lieutenant. " Could we, with our swords, 
 offer effectual resistance to a surge of men driven on by a 
 posse of angry people who know nothing of the forms of 
 justice ! " 
 
 " Oh ! come on, gentlemen ; we will talk it out afterwards," 
 replied Joseph, who had recovered his presence of mind. 
 
 " Make way, my friends," said the lieutenant, "he is ar- 
 rested ; we are going to take him to the Palais de Justice." 
 
 "Respect the law, my good fellows!" said Monsieur 
 Mouilleron. 
 
 " Would you not sooner see him guillotined? " said one of 
 the gendarmes to a menacing group. 
 
 "Ay, ay!" cried an infuriated bystander. "Guillotine 
 him! " 
 
 " He is to be guillotined ! " repeated some women. 
 
 At the bottom of the Grande Narette they were saying — 
 
 "They are taking him off to be guillotined ; the knife was 
 found upon him ! Oh ! the wretch ! That is your Parisian ! 
 Why, he has crime written on his face ! " 
 
 Though Joseph's blood seethed in his head he walked from 
 the Place Saint-Jean to the Palais de Justice with admirable 
 coolness and dignity. He was, nevertheless, glad enough 
 when he found himself in Monsieur Lousteau-Prangin's office. 
 
 " I need hardly tell you, gentlemen, I suppose, that I am 
 innocent," he said, addressing Monsieur Mouilleron, Mon- 
 sieur Lousteau-Prangin, and the clerk. " I can only beg 
 you to help me to prove my innocence. I know nothing 
 about the matter " 
 
 When the judge had explained to Joseph all the evidence 
 against him, ending with Max's deposition. Joseph was 
 astounded. 
 
 " Why," said he, " I did not leave the house till past five ;
 
 228 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 I walked down the Grand' Rue, and at half-past five I was 
 gazing at the front of your parish church of Saint-Cyr. I 
 stopped to speak for a moment to the bell-ringer, who was 
 about to toll the Angelas, asking him some questions about 
 the building, which had struck me as quaint and unfinished. 
 Then I crossed the vegetable market, where the women were 
 already collecting. From there I went by the Place Misere 
 and the Pont-aux-Anes to the mill of Landrole, where I 
 quietly watched the ducks for five or six minutes ; the mil- 
 ler's men must have noticed me. I saw some women coming 
 to the washing-place ; they must be there still ; they began 
 to laugh at me, remarking that I was no beauty; I replied 
 that an ugly case might contain jewels. I went along the 
 
 avenue as far as Tivoli, where I talked to the gardener 
 
 Verify all these statements, and do not arrest me I beg, for I 
 give you my word of honor to remain in your office till you 
 are convinced of my innocence." 
 
 This rational statement, made without any hesitation and 
 with the ease of a man sure of his case, made some impression 
 on the lawyers. 
 
 "Well, we must summon and find all these people," said 
 Monsieur Mouilleron, " but that is not to be done in a day. 
 Make up your mind, in your own interest, to remain in the 
 lock-up of the Palais de Justice." 
 
 "Then let me write to reassure my mother, poor woman. 
 Oh, you may read the letter ! " said Joseph, seeing the 
 lawyers look meaningly at one another. 
 
 The request was too reasonable to be refused, and Joseph 
 wrote rhese few lines : 
 
 " Do not be uneasy, my dear mother; the mistake of which 
 I am the victim will be easily cleared up, and I have given 
 the clue. To-morrow, or perhaps this evening, I shall be 
 free. I embrace you ; and say to Monsieur and Madame 
 Hochon how grieved I am by this worry, which is indeed no
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 229 
 
 fault of mine, for it is the result of some mistake which I do 
 not yet understand." 
 
 When this letter arrived, Madame Bridau was half-dead of 
 nervous terrors, and the remedies Monsieur Goddet was per- 
 suading her to sip had no effect whatever. But the reading 
 of this letter was like a balm ; after a few hysterical sobs 
 Agathe sank into the quiescence that succeeds such a crisis. 
 
 When Monsieur Goddet came again to see his patient, he 
 found her regretting having left Paris. 
 
 "God is punishing me," said she, with tears in her eyes. 
 " Oh, my dear godmother, ought I not to have trusted in 
 Him, and have looked to His mercy for my brother's fortune? " 
 
 " Madame," said Hochon in her ear, " if your son is inno- 
 cent, Max is an utter villain, and we shall not overmatch him 
 in the business; so go back to Paris." 
 
 " And how is Monsieur Gilet getting on ? " asked Madame 
 Hochon of the doctor. 
 
 " The wound is serious, but not mortal. A month of care, 
 and he will be all right again. I left him writing to Monsieur 
 Mouilleron to request him to release your son," said he to 
 Madame Bridau. " Oh ! Max is a good fellow. I told him 
 what a state you were in ; and then he remembered a detail 
 of the murderer's dress, which proved to him that he could 
 not be your son ; the assassin had on list shoes, and it is per- 
 fectly certain that your son went out walking in boots." 
 
 " Ah ! God forgive him the ill he has done me ! " 
 
 At nightfall a man had left a note for Gilet, written in a 
 feigned hand, and in these words: 
 
 "Captain Gilet must not leave an innocent man in the 
 hands of the law. The person who dealt the blow promises 
 not to repeat it if Monsieur Gilet delivers Monsieur Joseph 
 Bridau without denouncing the real culprit." 
 
 On reading this letter, which he burnt, Max wrote to Mon- 
 sieur Mouilleron a note mentioning the remark he had made
 
 230 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 to Monsieur Goddet, begging him to release Joseph, and to 
 come and see him that he might explain matters. 
 
 By the time this note reached Monsieur Mouilleron, Lous- 
 teau-Prangin had already proved the truth of Joseph's account 
 of himself, by the evidence of the bell-ringer, of a market- 
 woman, of the washerwomen, the men of the mill, and the 
 gardener from Frapesle. Max's letter finally demonstrated 
 the innocence of the accused, whom Monsieur Mouilleron 
 himself escorted back to Monsieur Hochon's. Joseph was 
 received by his mother with such eager tenderness that, like 
 the husband in La Fontaine's fable, this poor misprized son 
 was thankful to chance for an annoyance which had secured 
 him such a demonstration of affection. 
 
 " Of course," said Monsieur Mouilleron, with an all- 
 knowing air, " I saw at once, by the way you faced the mob, 
 that you were innocent ; but in spite of my convictions, you 
 see, when you know what Issoudun is, the best way to protect 
 you was to take you to prison as we did. I must say you put 
 a good face on the matter." 
 
 " I was thinking of something else," replied the artist 
 simply. " I know an officer who told me that he was once 
 arrested in Dalmatia under somewhat similar circumstances, 
 on his way home from an early morning walk, by an excited 
 mob. The similarity struck me, and I was studying all those 
 
 heads with the idea of painting a riot in 1793 And 
 
 then I was saying to myself, ' Greedy wretch ! you have gotten 
 no more than you deserve for coming fortune-hunting instead 
 of painting in your studio '" 
 
 " If you will allow me to offer you a piece of advice," said 
 the public prosecutor, "you will get into a post-chaise this 
 evening at eleven o'clock — the postmaster will let you have 
 one — and get back to Paris by diligence from Bourges." 
 
 "That is my opinion too," said Monsieur Hochon, who 
 was dying to be rid of his guest. 
 
 " And it is my most earnest wish to be out of Issoudun,
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 231 
 
 though I leave my only friend here," replied Agathe, taking 
 Madame Hochon's hand and kissing it. " When shall I see 
 you again ? " 
 
 " Ah ! my child, we shall never meet again till we meet 
 above ! We have suffered so much here," she added, in an 
 undertone, " that God will have pity on us." 
 
 A moment after, when Monsieur Mouilleron had been over 
 to see Max, Gritte greatly astonished Monsieur and Madame 
 Hochon, Agathe, Joseph, and Adolphine by announcing a 
 call from Monsieur Rouget. Jean-Jacques had come to take 
 leave of his sister, and to offer her the carriage to take her to 
 Bourges. 
 
 "Ah, your old pictures have done us an ill turn," said 
 Agathe. 
 
 "Keep them, sister," said the old man, who did not yet 
 believe in the value of the paintings. 
 
 "Neighbor Rouget," said Monsieur Hochon, "our rela- 
 tions are our best friends and protectors, especially when 
 they are such as your sister Agathe and your nephew Jo- 
 seph." 
 
 "Perhaps so," said the old fellow, in bewilderment. 
 
 " You must be thinking of making a Christian end," said 
 Madame Hochon. 
 
 "Oh, Jean-Jacques, what a day this has been!" said 
 Agathe. 
 
 " Will you accept my carriage? " asked Rouget. 
 
 " No, brother," replied Madame Bridau. "Thank you, 
 all the same. I wish you good health ! " 
 
 Rouget allowed his sister and nephew to embrace him, then 
 he went away after a cool leave-taking. 
 
 Baruch, at a word from his grandfather, had hurried off to 
 the posting-house. At eleven that evening the two Pa- 
 risians, packed into a wicker chaise with one horse ridden 
 by a postillion, left Issoudun. Adolphine and Madame had 
 tears in their eyes ; they alone regretted Agathe and Joseph.
 
 232 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 "They are gone!" cried Francois Hochon, going into 
 Max's room with La Rabouilleuse. 
 
 "Well, there, the trick is done ! " said Max, weakened by 
 fever. 
 
 "But what did you say to old Mouilleron? " asked Fran- 
 cois. 
 
 " I told him that I had almost given my assassin just cause 
 to wait for me at a street corner ; that the man was quite 
 capable, if the law were at his heels, of killing me like a dog 
 before he could be caught. In consequence, I begged Mouil- 
 leron and Prangin to pretend to be hunting him down, but 
 in fact to leave the man alone, unless they wanted to see me 
 a dead man." 
 
 "I hope now, Max," said Flore, "that you will remain 
 quiet at night for some little time." 
 
 " Well, we are quit of the Parisians at any rate," cried 
 Max. "The man who stabbed me did not imagine he was 
 doing us such a good service." 
 
 Next day, with the exception of a few very quiet and re- 
 served people who shared the views of Monsieur and Madame 
 Hochon, all the town rejoiced over the departure of the 
 Bridaus, though it was due to a deplorable mistake, as if the 
 event were a triumph of the provinces over Paris. Some of 
 Max's friends expressed themselves in hard terms. 
 
 " Well, indeed, did those Parisians imagine that we are all 
 idiots, and that they had only to hold out a hat for fortunes 
 to pour into it." 
 
 " They came in search of wool, and they have gone away 
 shorn, for the nephew is not to his uncle's taste." 
 
 " And they also had the advice of a Paris lawyer, if you 
 please " 
 
 " Oh, ho ! They had laid a plan then ? " 
 
 " Why, yes, a plan to get round Pere Rouget ; but the Pa- 
 risians saw that they were not equal to it. and their lawyer 
 won't laugh at the natives of Berry "
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 233 
 
 " But it is abominable, you know ! " 
 
 " That is your Parisian ! " 
 
 " La Rabouilleuse saw that she was attacked and she de- 
 fended herself " 
 
 " And quite right, too ! " 
 
 To every one in the town Agathe and Joseph were " Pa- 
 risians " — strangers — foreigners. They preferred Max and 
 Flore. 
 
 With what satisfaction Agathe and Joseph found themselves 
 at home in their little lodging in the Rue Mazarine may be 
 imagined. In the course of the journey the artist had recov- 
 ered his spirits, crushed for a time by the scene of his arrest 
 and twenty hours in prison ; but he could not rally his 
 mother. Agathe could the less get over it, because the 
 trial for military conspiracy before the supreme court was 
 coming on. 
 
 Philippe's conduct, in spite of the skill of an advocate rec- 
 ommended by Desroches, gave rise to suspicions unfavorable 
 to his reputation. So, as soon as Joseph had reported to 
 Desroches all that had occurred at Issoudun, he started forth- 
 with, accompanied by Mistigris, for the Comte de Serizy's 
 chateau, so as to hear nothing of this trial, which lasted 
 twenty days. 
 
 It is useless here to enlarge on facts which are part of con- 
 temporary history. Whether it was that he played a part dic- 
 tated to him, or that he turned King's evidence, Philippe's 
 sentence was to police surveillance for five years ; and he was 
 required to set out, the very day he was released, for Autun, 
 the town assigned to him as his place of residence during 
 those five years. This sentence was a form of detention 
 similar to that of prisoners on parole, who are confined within 
 the walls of a town. 
 
 On hearing that the Comte de Serizy, one of the peers 
 appointed by the Upper Chamber to sit on the commission,
 
 2:;-! A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 was employing Joseph to decorate his house at Presles, Des- 
 roches craved an audience of this minister and found him 
 very well inclined to help Joseph, whose acquaintance he hap- 
 pened to have made. Desroches explained the pecuniary dif- 
 ficulties of the two brothers, mentioning the good service 
 done bv their father, and the wav in which he had been for- 
 gotten under the Restoration. 
 
 "Such injustice as this, monseigneur," said the attorney, 
 "is a permanent source of irritation and discontent. You 
 knew the father ; then put it in the power of his sons to 
 acquire a fortune." 
 
 He then briefly set forth the state of the family affairs at 
 Issoudun, craving that the all-powerful vice-president of the 
 council would take some steps to persuade the chief commis- 
 sioner of police to transfer Philippe from Autun to Issoudun 
 as a place of exile. Finally, he mentioned Philippe's abject 
 poverty, and begged a pension of sixty francs a month, 
 which the war office might, in common decency, grant to a 
 retired lieutenant-colonel. 
 
 " I will get done all you ask," said the Count, " for it all 
 seems to me quite just." 
 
 Three days after, Desroches, armed with the necessary war- 
 rants, went to fetch Philippe from the prison cell of the 
 supreme court, and took him to his own house in the Rue de 
 Bethizy. There the young attorney gave the dreadful soldier 
 one of those unanswerable sermons in which a lawyer places 
 things in their true light, using the crudest language to epito- 
 mize the facts of his clients' conduct, to analyze their ideas, 
 and reduce them to the simplest expression, when he takes 
 enough interest in a man to preach to him. After crushing 
 the Emperor's staff-officer by accusing him of reckless dissipa- 
 tion, and of causing his mother's misfortunes and the death 
 of old Madame Descoings, he told him how matters stood at 
 Issoudun, explaining them from his own point of view, and 
 thoroughly unveiling the schemes and the character of
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 235 
 
 Maxence Gilet and La Rabouilleuse. The political outlaw, 
 who was gifted with keen perception in such matters, listened 
 far more intently to this part of Desroches' lecture than to 
 the first. 
 
 " This being the state of affairs," said the lawyer, " you 
 may repair so much as is reparable of the mischief you have 
 done to your excellent family — since you cannot restore to 
 life the poor woman whose death lies at your door ; but you 
 alone can " 
 
 " But how can I do it? " asked Philippe. 
 
 " I have interceded for you to be quartered at Issoudun in- 
 stead of at Autun." 
 
 Philippe's face, grown very thin, and almost sinister, fur- 
 rowed as it was by suffering and privation, was suddenly 
 lighted up by a flash of satisfaction. 
 
 " You alone, I was saying, can rescue your uncle Rouget's 
 fortune, of which, by this time, half, perhaps, has disappeared 
 in the maw of that wolf called Gilet," Desroches went on. 
 "You know all the facts ; now you must act upon them. I 
 suggest no scheme ; I have no ideas on the subject. Besides, 
 every plan might need modifying on the scene of action. 
 You have a very strong adversary ; the rascal is very astute, 
 and the way in which he tried to get back the pictures given to 
 Joseph by your uncle, and succeeded in casting the odium of 
 a crime on your poor brother, reveals an unscrupulous oppo- 
 nent. So be prudent ; try to behave yourself in your own 
 interest, if you cannot otherwise control yourself. Without 
 saying a word to Joseph, whose pride as an artist would rise 
 in arms, I sent the pictures back to Monsieur Hochon, writing 
 to him to deliver them only to you. Maxence Gilet is 
 brave " 
 
 "So much the better," said Philippe; "I trust to the 
 rascal's courage to enable me to succeed, for a coward would 
 go away from Issoudun." 
 
 "Very good. Now, think of your mother, whose love for
 
 236 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 you is worthy of worship ; and of your brother, whom you 
 have used as your milch-cow " 
 
 " What ! he mentioned those trifles to you ?" cried Philippe. 
 
 "Come, come; I am a friend of the family, and I know 
 more about you than they do." 
 
 " What do you know? " asked Philippe. 
 
 "You turned traitor to your fellow-conspirators " 
 
 "I ! " cried Philippe ; " I ! a staff-officer of the Emperor's ! 
 Get along ! We took in the Chamber of Peers, the lawyers, 
 the government, and the whole blessed boiling ! The King's 
 men saw nothing but the blaze " 
 
 "So much the better if it is true," replied the lawyer. 
 "But, you see, the Bourbons cannot be overthrown; they 
 have Europe on their side ; and you should try to make your 
 peace with the war office. Oh ! you will when you are a rich 
 man. To grow rich, you and your brother must get hold of 
 your uncle. If you want to bring a matter requiring so much 
 skill, judgment, and patience to a good end, you have enough 
 to keep your hands full all your five years " 
 
 " No, no," interrupted Philippe, " the thing must be done 
 very quickly. That Gilet may get possession of my uncle's 
 money and invest it in that woman's name, then all would be 
 lost." 
 
 "Well, Monsieur Hochon is a shrewd, clear-sighted man. 
 Take his advice. You have your pass for the journey, your 
 place is taken by the Orleans diligence for half-past seven, 
 your trunk is packed. Come to dinner." 
 
 " I have not a thing but what I stand up in," said Philippe, 
 opening his wretched blue great-coat. "But I want three 
 things, which I would ask you to beg my friend Giroudeau, 
 Finot's uncle, to send after me — my cavalry sword, my rapier, 
 and my pistols." 
 
 " You want a good deal besides," said the lawyer with a 
 shudder, as he looked at his client. "You shall have three 
 months' pay advanced to get you decent clothing."
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 237 
 
 " Halloo ! are you here, Godeschal?" cried Philippe, rec- 
 ognizing Mariette's brother in Desroches' head clerk. 
 
 "Yes; I have been with Monsieur Desroches these two 
 months." 
 
 "And he will stay here, I hope," said Desroches, " till he 
 buys a practice." 
 
 " And Mariette?" asked Philippe, touched by the thought 
 of her. 
 
 " She is waiting for the new house to be opened." 
 
 " It would not cost her. much to see me once more," said 
 Philippe. " However, as she pleases ! " 
 
 After the scanty dinner, paid for by Desroches, who was 
 giving his head clerk his board, the two young lawyers saw 
 the political outlaw into the coach, and wished him good-luck. 
 
 On the 2d of November, All-Souls' Day, Philippe Bridau 
 presented himself before the head of the police at Issoudun 
 to have his pass countersigned on the day of his arrival ; then, 
 by that functionary's instructions, he found a lodging in the 
 Rue de l'Avenier. 
 
 The news immediately spread through Issoudun that one of 
 the officers involved in the late conspiracy was quartered in 
 the town, and the sensation was all the greater because it was 
 understood that this officer was the brother of the painter 
 who had been so unjustly arrested. Maxence Gilet, by this 
 time quite recovered from his wound, had carried through the 
 difficult business of calling in the moneys placed on mort- 
 gage by Pere Rouget and having them invested in the funds. 
 The loan of a hundred and forty thousand francs, raised by 
 the old man on his land, had produced a great sensation, for 
 in the country everything is known. On behalf of the Bri- 
 daus, Monsieur Hochon, shocked at this necessity, questioned 
 old Monsieur Heron, Rouget's notary, as to the object of 
 this change of investments. 
 
 " If Pere Rouget changes his mind, his heirs will owe me a
 
 238 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 votive offering," cried Monsieur Heron. "But for me, the 
 old man would have invested the capital of fifty thousand 
 francs a year in the name of Maxence Gilet. But I told 
 Mademoiselle Brazier that she had better be satisfied with the 
 will, or risk an action for undue influence, seeing the abun- 
 dant proof of their manoeuvring afforded by the transfers 
 made in every direction. To gain time I advised Maxence 
 and his mistress to let the people forget this sudden change in 
 the old boy's habits." 
 
 "Ah! constitute yourself the ally and protector of the 
 Bridaus, for they are penniless," said Monsieur Hochon, who 
 could not forgive Max for the terrors he had endured when 
 fearing that his house would be pillaged. 
 
 Maxence Gilet and Flore Brazier, untouched by all misgiv- 
 ing, made light of the advent of old Rouget's elder nephew. 
 The moment that Philippe should cause them any anxiety, 
 they knew they could transfer the securities to either of them- 
 selves by making Rouget sign a power of attorney. If he 
 should alter his will, fifty thousand francs a year was a very 
 handsome plum of consolation, especially after burthening 
 the real estate with a mortgage of a hundred and forty thou- 
 sand francs. 
 
 The morning after his arrival Philippe called on his uncle 
 at about ten o'clock ; he was bent on exhibiting himself in 
 his dreadful old clothes. And, indeed, when the discharged 
 patient from the hospital, the prisoner from the Luxembourg, 
 entered the sitting-room, Flore Brazier felt her heart chill at 
 his repulsive appearance. Gilet, too, felt that shock to the 
 mind and feelings by which nature warns us of some latent 
 hostility or looming danger. While Philippe had acquired 
 an indescribably sinister expression of countenance from his 
 late misfortunes, his dress certainly added to the effect. The 
 wretched blue overcoat was buttoned in military style up to 
 his chin, for melancholy reasons indeed, but it showed too 
 plainly what it was meant to hide. The edge of his trousers,
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 239 
 
 fringed like a pensioner's coat, revealed abject squalor. His 
 boots left damp blots of muddy water oozing from the gaping 
 seams. The gray hat the colonel held showed a greasy lining. 
 His walking-stick, a cane that had lost its varnish, had stood, 
 no doubt, in all the corners of the cafes of Paris, and its 
 battered ferrule must have dipped in many a mud-heap. From 
 a stiff velvet collar that showed the paper lining rose a head 
 exactly like Frederick Lemaitre when made up for *he last act 
 of " La Vie d'un Joueur ; " the breakdown of a still powerful 
 man was visible in a coppery complexion that looked green in 
 patches. Such complexions are to be seen in the faces of 
 debauchees who have spent many nights at play; their eyes 
 are surrounded by a dark, sooty ring, the eyelids vinous rather 
 than red, the brow ominous from all the ruin it betrays. 
 Philippe's cheeks were furrowed and hollow, for he had 
 scarcely recovered from his hospital treatment. His head 
 was bald, a few locks left at the back ended by his ears. The 
 pure blue of his glittering eyes had assumed a cold, steely hue. 
 
 " Good-morning, uncle," said he in a husky voice ; "lam 
 your nephew, Philippe Bridau. This is how the Bourbons 
 treat a lieutenant-colonel, a veteran of the old army, a man 
 who carried the Emperor's orders at the battle of Montereau. 
 I should be ashamed if my great-coat were to fall open, on 
 mademoiselle's account. After all, it is the rule of the game ! 
 We chose to begin it ngain, and we were beaten. I am re- 
 siding in your town by orders of the police, on full pay and an 
 allowance of sixty francs a month. So the good people of 
 Issoudun need not fear that I shall raise the price of victuals. 
 I see you are in good and fair company." 
 
 " Oh ! so you are my nephew " said Jean-Jacques. 
 
 " But pray ask the colonel to stay to breakfast," said Flore. 
 
 "No, madame, thank you," replied Philippe; "I have 
 breakfasted. Besides, I would sooner cut off my hand than 
 ask my uncle for a bit of bread or a single centime after what 
 happened in this town to my brother and my mother. At
 
 240 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 the same time, I did not think it seemly that I should live 
 in Issoudun without paying my respects to him now and then. 
 But, for the rest, you can do as you please," said he, holding 
 out his hand, in which Rouget placed his for Philippe to 
 shake, "just as you please ; I shall take no exception so long 
 as the honor of the Bridaus is untouched." 
 
 Gilet could watch the lieutenant-colonel at his leisure, for 
 Philippe avoided looking in his direction in a very pointed 
 way. Though the blood boiled in his veins, it was very 
 important to Max that he should behave with that prudence 
 of great diplomats, which so often resembles cowardice, and 
 not flare out like a young man ; he sat calm and cold. 
 
 "It would not be seemly," said Flore, "that you should 
 live on sixty francs a month under the very nose of your 
 uncle with forty thousand francs a year, and who has behaved 
 so handsome to Monsieur Gilet, the captain here, his natural 
 
 half-brother " 
 
 "To be sure, Philippe," said the old fellow, "we must see 
 about it." 
 
 At the introduction thus effected by Flore, Philippe bowed 
 almost timidly to Gilet, who bowed too. 
 
 " Uncle, I have some pictures here to return to you. They 
 are at Monsieur Hochon's. You will, I hope, do me the 
 pleasure of coming to identify them some day or other." 
 
 Having spoken these words in a dry tone, Lieutenant-Col- 
 onel Philippe Bridau went away. 
 
 His visit made a deeper impression on Flore's mind, and 
 on Gilet's too, than mere dismay at the first sight of this 
 dreadful old campaigner. As soon as Philippe had slammed 
 the door with the violence of a supplanted heir, Flore and 
 Gilet hid behind the curtains to watch him as he crossed over 
 from his uncle's house to the Hochons. 
 
 "What a blackguard!" said Flore, with a questioning 
 glance at Gilet. 
 
 "Yes, unfortunately there were some men like that in the
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 211 
 
 Emperor's armies; I settled seven of them on the hulks," 
 said Gilet. 
 
 " I hope that you will pick no quarrel with this one," said 
 Mademoiselle Brazier. 
 
 "That one ! " retorted Max. " He is a mangy dog — but 
 he would like a bone," he added, addressing old Rouget. 
 " If his uncle will trust my opinion, he will get rid of him 
 with a present; he will not leave you in peace, Papa Rouget." 
 
 " He smelt of horrible tobacco," said the old man. 
 
 "He smelt your money, too," said Flore in a peremptory 
 tone. "My opinion is that you should decline to receive 
 him." 
 
 " I am sure I am quite willing," said the old man. 
 
 "Monsieur," said Gritte, going into the room where the 
 Hochon family were sitting after breakfast, "Here is that 
 Monsieur Bridau you spoke about." 
 
 Philippe entered with much politeness, in the midst of per- 
 fect silence produced by general curiosity. Madame Hochon 
 shuddered from head to foot on beholding the author of all 
 Agathe's woes and the cause of good old Madame Descoings' 
 death. Adolphine, too, was unpleasantly startled ; Baruch 
 and Francois looked at each other with surprise. Old Hochon 
 reserved his presence of mind, and offered Madame Bridau's 
 son a seat. 
 
 "I have come," said Philippe, "to recommend myself to 
 your good graces, for I have to arrange matters so as to live 
 in this town for five years on sixty francs a month allowed me 
 by France." 
 
 " It can be done," said Monsieur Hochon. 
 Philippe talked on indifferent subjects and conducted him- 
 self perfectly well. He spoke of Lousteau the journalist, the 
 old lady's nephew, as a perfect eagle, and her favor was com- 
 pletely won when she heard him declare that the name of 
 Lousteau would be famous. Then he did not hesitate to 
 confess the errors of his ways ; in reply to a friendly reproof 
 16
 
 242 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 administered by Madame Hochon in an undertone, he said 
 that he had thought much while in prison, and promised her 
 to be quite another man for the future. 
 
 In response to a word from Philippe, Monsieur Hochon 
 went out with him. When the miser and the soldier were on 
 the Boulevard Baron, at a spot where no one could overhear 
 them, the colonel said — 
 
 " Monsieur, if you will take my word for it, we had better 
 never discuss business or certain persons excepting when 
 walking out in the country, or in places where we can talk 
 without being heard. Maitre Desroches impressed upon me 
 how great is the power of gossip in a small town. I do not 
 wish that you should be suspected of helping me by your 
 advice, though Desroches enjoined on me that I should ask it, 
 and I beg you to give it to me freely. We have a powerful 
 enemy opposed to us ; we must neglect no precaution that 
 may enable us to defeat him. To begin with, excuse me if I 
 call no more. A little distance between us will leave you 
 clear of any suspicion of influencing my conduct. When I 
 require to consult you, I will walk past your house at half-past 
 nine, just as you are finishing breakfast. If you see me car- 
 rying my stick as we shoulder arms, that will convey to you 
 that we are to meet by chance at some spot where we may 
 walk, and which you will tell me of." 
 
 " All that seems to me the idea of a prudent man who 
 means to succeed," said the old man. 
 
 "And I shall succeed, monsieur. To begin with, can you 
 tell me of any officers of the old army living here who are 
 not allies of that Maxence Gilet, and with whom I may make 
 acquaintance? " 
 
 " There is a captain of the artillery of the Guard, a Mon- 
 sieur Mignonnet, who was cadet from the Ecole Polytechnique, 
 a man of about forty, who lives quietly ; he is a man of honor, 
 and denounces Max, whose conduct seems to him unworthy 
 of a soldier."
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 243 
 
 "Good ! " said Philippe. 
 
 "There are not many officers of that stamp," Monsieur 
 Hochon went on. "I can think of no one else but a cavalry 
 captain." 
 
 "That was my corps," said Philippe. "Was he in the 
 Guards?" 
 
 "Yes," replied Monsieur Hochon. "In 1810 Carpentier 
 was quartermaster-general of the dragoons ; he left that regi- 
 ment and entered the line as second lieutenant, where he rose 
 to be captain." 
 
 " Giroudeau perhaps may know him," thought Philippe. 
 
 " Monsieur Carpentier took the place at the mayor's which 
 Maxence threw up, and he is a friend of Major Mignonnet." 
 
 " And what can I do here for my living? " 
 
 " I believe that an insurance company is about to be 
 started for the department of the Cher ; you might find 
 employment there, but it would not be more than fifty francs 
 a month at the best." 
 
 "That will do for me." 
 
 By the end of the week Philippe had a new coat, waistcoat, 
 and trousers of blue Elbeuf cloth, bought on credit for 
 monthly payments ; boots too, leather gloves, and a hat. 
 Giroudeau sent him some linen from Paris, his weapons, and 
 a letter of introduction to Carpentier, who had served under 
 the former captain of dragoons. This letter secured to 
 Philippe Carpentier's good offices, and he introduced him to 
 Mignonnet as a man of the highest merit and noblest char- 
 acter. Philippe soon won the admiration of these two 
 worthy officers by confiding to them some details of the con- 
 spiracy for which he had been tried ; it had been, as every 
 one knows, the last attempt of the old army to rebel against 
 the Bourbons; for the case of the sergeants of La Rochelle 
 falls under another category. 
 
 After 1822 the soldiery, who had learned a lesson from the 
 fate of the conspiracy of August 19, 1820, and of Berton's
 
 244 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 and Caron's plots, made up their minds to await the turn 
 of events. This last scheme, the younger sister of that of 
 the 19th of August, was identically the same, but recom- 
 posed of better elements. Like the first, it was kept abso- 
 lutely secret from the King's government. The conspirators, 
 once more found out, were clever enough to reduce a really 
 far-reaching enterprise to the semblance of a mere petty 
 barrack mutiny. The north of France was to be the scene 
 of this conspiracy, in which several regiments of cavalry, 
 artillery and infantry were implicated. The frontier for- 
 tresses were to be all seized at once by surprise. In the event 
 of success, the treaties of 18 15 were to be nullified by the 
 immediate federation of Belgium, which was to be torn from 
 the Holy Alliance as the outcome of a military compact 
 among soldiers. Two thrones were at once to founder in this 
 swift whirlwind. 
 
 Of this formidable scheme planned by clever heads, with 
 which some great personages were mixed up, nothing came 
 but a case for the supreme court. Philippe Bridau consented 
 to screen his betters, who vanished at the moment when their 
 plans were discovered — either by some treachery or by chance ; 
 and they, in their seats in the Chambers, had only promised 
 their cooperation to crown success at the very heart of 
 government. 
 
 To relate the scheme which the confessions of the Liberals, 
 in 1830, divulged in all its depth, and in its immense ramifi- 
 cations, unknown to the initiated of the baser class, would be 
 to intrude on the domain of history, and would lead to too 
 long a digression. This outline will suffice to explain the 
 twofold part played by Philippe. The Emperor's staff-officer 
 was to have led an outbreak in Paris, intended merely to mask 
 the real conspiracy and to keep the government busy at its 
 centre, while the great movement took place in the north. 
 Afterwards he was put forward to break the connection be- 
 tween the two plots by betraying only some unimportant
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 245 
 
 secrets ; his destitute appearance and broken health were 
 admirably calculated to throw discredit and contempt on the 
 enterprise in the eyes of the authorities. This part was well 
 suited to the precarious position of this unprincipled gambler. 
 Feeling that he had one foot in each party, the wily Philippe 
 played the good apostle to the King's government, and yet 
 did not lose the esteem of men standing high in his own 
 party ; but he promised himself that at a future day he would 
 follow up the line that might offer the greater advantages. 
 
 These revelations as to the vast extent of the real con- 
 spiracy made Philippe a man of the highest importance in 
 the eyes of Carpentier and Mignonnet, for his devotedness 
 showed a political sense worthy of the best days of the Con- 
 vention. Thus, in a few days, the cunning Bonapartist be- 
 came the friend of these two men, whose respectability cast 
 its reflection on him. By the recommendation of Monsieur 
 Carpentier and Monsieur Mignonnet he at once got the 
 appointment mentioned by Hochon in the Mutual Insurance 
 Society of the Department of the Cher. His work was to 
 keep the books, as in a tax-collector's office, to fill in printed 
 circulars with names and numbers and send them off, and to 
 issue policies of insurance ; thus he was not employed for 
 more than three hours daily. 
 
 Mignonnet and Carpentier secured the admission of this 
 visitor to Issoudun to their club, where his air and manners, 
 quite in accordance with the high opinion these two officers 
 had formed of this leader of conspiracies, gained him the 
 respect which is paid often to deceptive appearances. Phil- 
 ippe, whose conduct was the result of much deliberation, had 
 meditated in prison on the disadvantages of a dissolute life. 
 He had not needed Desroches' lecture to perceive the neces- 
 sity for conciliating the good opinion of the townspeople by 
 honest, decent, and cleanly conduct. Delighted to cast re- 
 flections on Max by living as respectably as Mignonnet, he 
 also wished to lull Max by deceiving him as to his character.
 
 246 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 He meant to be looked upon as a nincompoop, by affecting 
 disinterested generosity while circumventing the enemy and 
 aiming at his uncle's fortune ; whereas his mother and his 
 brother, who were really disinterested, generous, and mag- 
 nanimous, had been accused of cunning while acting with art 
 less simplicity. 
 
 Philippe's greed had been fired in proportion to his uncle's 
 wealth, which Monsieur Hochon expatiated on in detail. In 
 the first private conversation he had held with this old man 
 they had fully agreed that, above all things, Philippe must nol 
 rouse Max's suspicions ; for all would be lost if Max anrf 
 Flore carried off their victim, even to Bourges. 
 
 Once a week Colonel Bridau dined with Captain Mignonnet 
 another day with Carpentier, and every Thursday with Mon 
 sieur Hochon. He was soon invited to other houses, and br 
 the end of three weeks had only his breakfast to pay for. H' 
 never mentioned his uncle, nor La Rabouilleuse, nor Gilet, 
 unless it were to make some inquiry with reference to hi? 
 mother's or Joseph's stay in the town. Finally, the thref 
 officers, the only men wearing the ribbon of the Legion o^ 
 Honor — Philippe having the superior decoration of the 
 rosette, which gave him a marked superiority in everybody's 
 eyes, very noticeable in a country town — would take their 
 daily walk together at the same hour before dinner, keeping 
 themselves to themselves, to use a homely phrase. 
 
 This attitude, this reserve and calm demeanor, produced an 
 excellent effect in Issoudun. Max's adherents all looked 
 upon Philippe as a sabrtur, a swashbuckler, an expression 
 used by soldiers to attribute the coarsest kind of courage 
 to a superior officer, while denying him the capacity for 
 command. 
 
 " He is a very respectable man," said the elder Goddet to 
 Max. 
 
 "Pooh!" replied Major Gilet, "his behavior before the 
 court shows him to be either a dupe or a spy; he is, as you
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 247 
 
 say, fool enough to have been the dupe of those who were 
 playing for high stakes." 
 
 After getting his appointment, Philippe, aware of the gossip 
 of the place, was anxious to conceal certain facts as far as pos- 
 sible from his neighbors' knowledge ; he therefore took rooms 
 in a house at the end of the Faubourg Saint-Paterne, with a 
 very large garden attached. There, in perfect secrecy, he 
 could practice sword-play with Carpentier, who had been in- 
 structor in a regiment of foot before his promotion to the 
 Imperial Guard. After having thus recovered his old supe- 
 riority, Philippe learned from Carpentier certain secret tricks 
 which would enable him to meet the most accomplished 
 opponent without any fear. He next took to pistol practice 
 with Mignonnet and Carpentier, for amusement, as he said, 
 but in reality to lead Maxence to believe that, in the event of 
 a duel, he relied on that weapon. Whenever Philippe met 
 Gilet he expected him to salute, and replied by lifting the 
 front of his hat with his finger in a cavalier fashion, as a 
 colonel does to a private. 
 
 Maxence Gilet never gave any sign of annoyance or dis- 
 satisfaction ; he never uttered a single word on the subject at 
 La Cognette's, where he still had little suppers, though since 
 Fario's knife-thrust the nocturnal pranks were for a time 
 pretermitted. Still, at the end of a certain time, Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Bridau's contempt for Major Gilet was a patent fact, 
 and discussed by some of the Knights of Idlesse who were 
 less closely attached to Maxence than were Baruch, Francois, 
 and two or three more. It was a matter of general surprise 
 to see Max the vehement and fiery behaving so meekly. No 
 one at Issoudun, not even Potel or Renard, ventured to men- 
 tion so delicate a matter to Gilet. Potel, really disturbed by 
 such a public misunderstanding between two officers of the Old 
 Guard, represented Max as quite capable of hatching some plot 
 in which the colonel might get the worst of it. By Potel's 
 account some new pitfall might be expected, after what Max
 
 248 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 had done to be rid of the mother and brother — for the Fario 
 affair was no longer a mystery. Monsieur Hochon had not 
 failed to expose Gilet's atrocious game to all the wise heads 
 of the town. Monsieur Mouilleron, too, the hero of a piece 
 of town gossip, had confidentially revealed the name of Gilet's 
 would-be murderer, if only to find out the causes of Fario's 
 hatred of Max, so as to keep justice on the alert in case of 
 further events. Thus, while discussing the colonel's attitude 
 towards Max, and endeavoring to guess what might come of 
 this antagonism, the town regarded them by anticipation as 
 adversaries. 
 
 Philippe, who was anxiously investigating the details of his 
 brother's arrest and the antecedent history of Gilet and La 
 Rabouilleuse, ended by forming a somewhat intimate alliance 
 with Fario, who was his neighbor. After carefully studying 
 the Spaniard, Philippe thought he might trust a man of his 
 temper. Their hatred was so absolutely in unison that Fario 
 placed himself at Philippe's service, and told him all he knew 
 of the feats of the Knights of Idlesse. Philippe, on his part, 
 promised that, if he should succeed in obtaining such influ- 
 ence over his uncle as Gilet now exerted, he would indemnify 
 Fario for all his losses, and thus secured his fidelity. Max- 
 ence had therefore a formidable enemy to meet — some one 
 who could talk to him, as they say in those parts. The town 
 of Issoudun, excited by rumor, foresaw a struggle between 
 these two men who, be it observed, held each other in utter 
 contempt. 
 
 One morning, towards the end of November, Philippe meet- 
 ing Monsieur Hochon at noon in the Avenue de Frapesle, 
 said to him — 
 
 " I have discovered that your grandsons Baruch and Fran- 
 cois are the intimate allies of Maxence Gilet. The young 
 rogues take part at night in all the pranks played in the town. 
 And so, through them, Maxence knew everything that went
 
 A J", A CHEL OR ' S ES TABL ISHMEN T. 249 
 
 on in your house when my brother and mother were staying 
 with you." 
 
 " And what proof have you of anything so shocking? " 
 
 " I heard them talking at night as they came out of a tavern. 
 Your two grandsons each owe Maxence a thousand crowns. 
 The villain desired the poor boys to find out what our plans 
 are. He reminded them that it was you who proposed to 
 besiege my uncle through the priesthood, and said that no one 
 could advise me but you — for, happily, he regards me as a 
 mere fighting-cock." 
 
 "What! My grandchildren " 
 
 " Watch them," said Philippe ; " you will see them coming 
 home to the Place Saint-Jean at two or three in the morning, 
 as sodden as champagne-corks, and walking with Maxence." 
 
 " So that is why the rascals are so abstemious ! " said Mon- 
 sieur Hochon. 
 
 " Fario told me something of their nocturnal habits," said 
 Philippe. " But for him I should never have guessed it. 
 My uncle is evidently oppressed by the most horrible 
 tyranny, to judge from the few words my Spaniard overheard 
 Max saying to your boys. I suspect that Max and La Ra- 
 bouilleuse have a plan for grabbing the state securities for fifty 
 thousand francs a year and going off to be married, I don't 
 know where, after plucking that wing from the pigeon. It is 
 high time to find out what is going on in my uncle's hous** ; 
 but I do not know how to set about it." 
 
 " I will think it over," said the old man. 
 
 Philippe and Monsieur Hochon then went opposite ways, 
 seeing other people approaching. 
 
 Never, at any period of his life, had Jean-Jacques Rouget 
 been so miserable as since his nephew Philippe's first visit. 
 Flore, in great terror, had a presentiment of some danger 
 hanging over Max. Tired of her master, and fearing that he 
 would live to a great age, as her criminal practices had so little 
 effect on him, she hit on the very simple plan of leaving the
 
 250 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 j /lace and going to Paris to be married to Maxence, after 
 extracting from Rouget the bonds bearing fifty thousand 
 francs a year. The old fellow, warned not indeed by any 
 care for his heirs, nor by personal avarice, but by his passion 
 for Flore, refused to give her the securities, pointing out that 
 he had left her everything. The unhappy man knew how 
 devotedly she loved Maxence, and he foresaw that she would 
 desert him as soon as she should be rich enough to marry. 
 When, after lavishing her tenderest coaxing, Flore found her 
 request denied, she tried severity ; she never spoke to her 
 master, she sent Vedie to wait upon him, and the woman one 
 morning found the old man with his eyes red from having 
 wept all night. For a week Pere Rouget had his breakfast 
 alone, and heaven knows how ! 
 
 So, the day after his conversation with Monsieur Hochon, 
 when Philippe paid his uncle a second visit, he found him 
 much altered. Flore remained in the room near the old man, 
 on whom she shed tender glances, speaking kindly to him, 
 and playing the farce so well that Philippe understood the 
 dangers of the situation merely from the solicitude paraded 
 for his benefit. Gilet, whose policy it was to avoid any col- 
 lision with Philippe, did not appear. After studying Pere 
 Rouget and Flore with a keen eye, the colonel decided on a 
 bold stroke. 
 
 " Good-by, my dear uncle," he said, rising, so as to seem 
 about to leave. 
 
 " Oh, do not go yet," cried the old man, who was basking 
 in Flore's pretended affection. " Dine with us, Philippe." 
 
 " I will, if you will first take an hour's walk with me." 
 
 "Monsieur is very ailing," said Mademoiselle Brazier. 
 " He would not go out driving just now," she added, turning 
 to the old man, and looking at him with the fixed gaze that 
 sometimes quells a madman. 
 
 Philippe took Flore by the arm, made her look at him, and 
 gazed at her just as fixedly as she had stared at her victim.
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 2;">1 
 
 "Tell me, mademoiselle," said he, "am I to infer that my 
 uncle is not free to come for a walk alone with me." 
 
 " Of course he is, monsieur," said Flore, who could hardly 
 make any other reply. 
 
 "Well, then, come, uncle. Now, mademoiselle, give him 
 his hat and stick." 
 
 " But, as a rule, he never goes out without me. Do you, 
 monsieur?" 
 
 " Yes, Philippe, yes; I always want her " 
 
 " We had better go in the carriage," said Flore. 
 
 " Yes, let us go in the carriage," cried the old man in his 
 anxiety to reconcile his two tyrants. 
 
 " Uncle, you will come for a walk, and with me, or I come 
 here no more. For the town will be in the right : you are 
 under Mademoiselle Flore Brazier's thumb. My uncle loves 
 you, well and good," he went on, fixing a leaden eye on 
 Flore. " You do not love him — that too is quite in order. 
 But that you should make the old man miserable! There we 
 draw the line. Those who want to inherit a fortune must 
 earn it. Now, uncle, are you coming? " 
 
 Philippe saw an agony of hesitancy depicted on the face 
 of the poor, helpless creature, whose eyes wandered first to 
 Flore and then to his nephew. 
 
 "So that is how it stands!" said the colonel. "Very 
 good ! Good-by, uncle. As for you, mademoiselle — your 
 servant ! " 
 
 He turned round quickly as he reached the door, and again 
 detected a threatening gesture from Flore to his uncle. 
 
 " Uncle," said he, " if you will come for a walk with me, 
 I will meet you at your door. I am going to Monsieur 
 
 Hochon for ten minutes If you and I do not get our 
 
 walk, I will back myself to send some people walking I could 
 name." 
 
 And Philippe crossed the avenue to call on the Hochons. 
 
 Any one can imagine the scene in the family which resulted
 
 252 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 from Philippe's revelation to Monsieur Hochon. At nine 
 o'clock that morning old Monsieur Heron had made his 
 appearance with a bundle of papers and found a fire in the 
 large room, lighted by the master's orders, quite against the 
 general rule. Madame Hochon, dressed at this unconscion- 
 able hour, was sitting in her armchair by the fire. The two 
 grandsons, warned by Adolphine of a storm gathering over 
 their heads since yesterday, had been ordered to stay at home. 
 Having been summoned by Gritte, they were chilled by the 
 paraphernalia of ceremony displayed by their grandparents, 
 whose cold wrath had hung over them for the past twenty- 
 four hours. 
 
 " Do not rise for them," said the old man to Monsieur 
 Heron. " You see before you two wretches unworthy of for- 
 giveness." 
 
 " Oh ! grandpapa ! " said Francois. 
 
 "Silence," said the solemn old man. "I know all about 
 your life at night and your intimacy with Monsieur Maxence 
 Gilet ; but you will not meet him again at La Cognette's at 
 one in the morning, for you are not to go out of this house 
 again till you set out for your respective destinations. So you 
 ruined Fario? You have many a time been within an ace of 
 finding yourselves in a criminal court? Be silent ! " he ex- 
 claimed, seeing Baruch open his mouth. "You both owe 
 money to Monsieur Maxence, who for six years past has been 
 supplying you with it for your debaucheries. Listen, now, to 
 the accounts of my guardianship ; we will talk afterwards. 
 You will see from these documents whether you can play 
 tricks with me, play tricks on the family and the laws of 
 family honor by betraying the secrets of the house, and re- 
 peating to Monsieur Maxence Gilet what is said and done in 
 it ! For a thousand crowns you play the spy ! For ten thou- 
 sand you would no doubt commit murder! Indeed, did you 
 not almost kill Madame Bridau? for Monsieur Gilet knew 
 full well that it was Fario who had stabbed him when he
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 253 
 
 accused my guest, Monsieur Joseph Bridau, of the attempt. 
 And when that gallows-bird committed such a crime, it was 
 because he had learned from you that Madame Agathe in- 
 tended to remain here. You, my grandsons, to play the spy 
 for such a man ! You, street-bullies ! Did you not know 
 that your worthy chief already, in 1806, had caused the death 
 of a poor young creature ? I will have no assassins or rob- 
 bers in my house. You will just pack up your things and go 
 elsewhere to be hanged ! " 
 
 The two young men were as white and rigid as plaster 
 images. 
 
 " Begin, Monsieur Heron," said the miser to the notary. 
 
 The old lawyer read out an account of Hochon's guardian- 
 ship, whence it appeared that the entire unencumbered for- 
 tune of the two Borniche children amounted to seventy thou- 
 sand francs, the money settled on their mother ; but Monsieur 
 Hochon had loaned his daughter considerable sums, and, as 
 representing the lenders, had a lien on part of his grand- 
 children's fortune. The share remaining to Baruch came to 
 twenty thousand francs. 
 
 "There, you are a rich man," said his grandfather. "Take 
 your money and walk alone ! I remain free to bestow my 
 wealth and Madame Hochon's — for she agrees with me on 
 every point in this matter — on whomsoever I please, on our 
 dear Adolphine. Yes, she shall marry a peer's son if we 
 choose, for she will have all we possess ! " 
 
 "And a very fine fortune it is," added Monsieur Heron. 
 
 "Monsieur Maxence Gilet will indemnify you!" said 
 Madame Hochon. 
 
 " I see myself scraping twenty sous pieces together for such 
 a couple of ne'er-do-weels ! " exclaimed Monsieur Hochon. 
 
 "Forgive me," stammered Baruch. 
 
 "Forgive me this once, and never no more," repeated the 
 old man, mocking the voice of a child. "Yes, and if I for- 
 give you, off you go to Monsieur Maxence to tell him what
 
 254 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 has befallen you and put him on his guard No, no, my 
 
 little gentlemen. I shall have means of knowing how you 
 conduct yourselves. As you behave, I shall behave. It is 
 not by the good conduct of a day or of a month that I shall 
 judge you, but by that of many years. I am strong on my 
 feet, hale and hearty. I hope to live long enough yet to see 
 which way you go. You, the capitalist," he added to Baruch, 
 "will go to Paris to study banking with Monsieur Mongenod. 
 Woe to you there if you do not walk straight : they will keep 
 an eye on you. Your money is in the hands of Mongenod 
 & Sons; here is a check on them for the whole sum. So 
 now release me by signing your account, which is closed by 
 a receipt in full," said he, taking the paper out of Heron's 
 hands and giving it to Baruch. 
 
 "As for you, Francois Hochon, you owe me money instead 
 of having any to receive," said the old man, addressing his 
 other grandson. " Monsieur Heron, will you read him his 
 statement ; it is clear — quite clear." 
 
 The reading took place in utter silence. 
 
 " I am sending you to Poitiers, with six hundred francs a 
 year, to study law," said his grandfather, when the notary 
 ended. " I was prepared to make life easy for you ; now 
 you must become an advocate to make your living. Ah, ha ! 
 my young rascals, for six years you have taken me in ! Well, 
 it took me just an hour in my turn to overtake you. I have 
 seven-league boots ! " 
 
 Just as old Monsieur Heron was leaving, carrying with him 
 the signed releases, Gritte announced Monsieur le Colonel 
 Philippe Bridau. Madame Hochon left the room, taking her 
 grandsons with her " to the confessional," as old Hochon 
 expressed it, and to ascertain what effect this scene had had 
 on them. 
 
 Philippe and the old man went to the window and talked 
 in low tones. 
 
 " I have been considering the position of your affairs,"
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 255 
 
 said Monsieur Hochon, looking across to the house opposite. 
 " I have just been talking them over with Monsieur Heron. 
 The bond bearing fifty thousand francs interest can only be 
 sold by the holder himself, or by his order. Now, since you 
 came, your uncle has signed no such order in any lawyer's 
 office ; and as he has not been out of Issoudun, he has signed 
 none elsewhere. If he gave any one a power of attorney in 
 this place, we should know of it at once; if he did it else- 
 where, we should hear of it all the same, for it would have 
 to be stamped, and our good Monsieur Heron has means of 
 information. So if the old man should go out of the town, 
 follow him, find out where he has been, and we will take 
 steps to discover what he has done." 
 
 "The power has not been given," said Philippe. "They 
 are trying for it, but I hope to prevent its being executed. 
 No, it will not be executed ! " cried Philippe, seeing his uncle 
 appear on his doorstep. He pointed him out to Monsieur 
 Hochon, and hastily told him of the events — so trivial and 
 so important — of his visit to Rouget. " Maxence is afraid 
 of me," he added, "but he cannot keep out of my way. 
 Mignonnet tells me that all the officers of the old army keep 
 high festival at Issoudun every day on the anniversary of the 
 Emperor's coronation. Well, then, two days hence, Max and 
 I must meet." 
 
 "If he can get the power of attorney by the morning of 
 the ist of December, he will be off to Paris by the mail 
 and leave the anniversary to take care of itself." 
 
 "True, then I must get hold of my uncle; but I have an 
 eye that settles idiots," said Philippe, making Monsieur 
 Hochon quail under a villainous glare. 
 
 " If they are allowing him to walk out with you, Maxence 
 has no doubt hit on some other plan for winning the game," 
 said the old miser. 
 
 "Oh! Fario is on the watch," replied Philippe, "and 
 not only he. The Spaniard discovered for me, in the neigh-
 
 256 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 borhood of Vatan, one of my old soldiers to whom I once 
 did a service. No one suspects that Benjamin Bourdet is at 
 the Spaniard's orders, and Fario has placed one of his horses 
 at Benjamin's service." 
 
 44 If you were to kill the monster who perverted my grand- 
 sons, you would be really doing a good action." 
 
 "By this time, thanks to me, all Issoudun knows what 
 Monsieur Maxence has been at by night for these six years 
 past," replied Philippe, "and tongues are wagging about him 
 pretty freely. Morally, he is a ruined man." 
 
 The moment Philippe had left his uncle, Flore went to 
 Max's room to relate to him the smallest details of the visit 
 paid by this audacious nephew. 
 
 " What is to be done ? " said she. 
 
 " Before having recourse to extreme measures, which would 
 be a duel with that long corpse of a man," replied Maxence, 
 " we must play for double or quits by a daring stroke. Let 
 the old simpleton go out with his nephew." 
 
 " But that great hound does not beat about the bush," cried 
 Flore ; "he will call a spade a spade." 
 
 "Just attend to me," said Maxence, in his most strident 
 tones. " Do you suppose that I have not listened at doors 
 and considered our position ? Send to old Cognet for a con- 
 veyance and a horse, now, this minute ! All must be done 
 in five minutes. Put all that is yours into the cart, take 
 Vedie, and be off to Vatan ; take the twenty thousand francs 
 he has in his desk. If I bring the old boy to Vatan, do not 
 consent to return here till he has signed the power of attor- 
 ney. Then I will sneak off to Paris while you come back to 
 Issoudun. When Jean-Jacques comes in from his walk and 
 finds that you are gone, he will lose his head and want to run 
 after you. Very good — and I will talk to him then ! " 
 
 While this plot was being laid, Philippe, arm-in-arm 
 with his uncle, had taken him for a walk on the Boulevard 
 Baron.
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 257 
 
 "There are two great schemers at loggerheads," said old 
 Hochon to himself, watching the colonel supporting his uncle. 
 " I am curious to see the end of this game, where the stake 
 is ninety thousand francs a year." 
 
 " My dear uncle," said Philippe, whose phraseology had 
 some flavor of his Paris associates, " you are in love with that 
 minx, and you show devilish good taste, for she is a stunning 
 armful. Instead of cosseting you, she makes you trot round 
 like her footman — and that again is natural enough ; she would 
 like to see you six feet under the daisies to marry Maxence, 
 whom she worships " 
 
 "Yes, Philippe, I know all that, but I love her all the 
 same." 
 
 " Well, I have sworn by my mother's body — and she is 
 your sister, sure enough," Philippe went on — "to make your 
 Rabouilleuse as pliant as my glove and just what she must 
 have been before that blackguard, who is unworthy ever to 
 have served in the Imperial Guard, came sponging on your 
 household " 
 
 " Oh ! if you could only do that ! " said the old man. 
 
 "It is easy enough," replied Philippe, cutting him short. 
 " I will kill Maxence like a dog — but — on one condition." 
 
 " What is that ? " asked old Rouget, looking at his nephew 
 with a blank expression. 
 
 "Do not sign the power of attorney they are asking for 
 before the 3d of December ; drag on only till then. Those 
 two vultures want your license to sell out your stock for fifty 
 thousand francs a year, solely to go and get married in Paris, 
 and there have a high time with your million." 
 
 " I am very much afraid of it," said Rouget. 
 
 " Well, then, whatever they may do to you, put off signing 
 it till next week." 
 
 "Yes, but when Flore talks to me she upsets me so that it 
 turns my brain. I tell you, she has a way of looking at me 
 that makes her blue eyes seem like paradise, and I am no 
 17
 
 258 A BACHELOR' S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 longer my own master, particularly as there are days when she 
 leaves me in disgrace." 
 
 " Well, if she is all honey, just be satisfied to promise her 
 the document and give me notice the day before you sign it. 
 Maxence will never be your representative — unless he has 
 killed me. If I kill him, you may take me to live with you 
 in his place, and I will make your beauty dance at a word or 
 a look. Yes, Flore shall be fond of you, or, by God, if she 
 vexes you, I will give her a hiding." 
 
 " Oh ! that I would never allow. A blow to Flore would 
 fall on my heart." 
 
 " And yet it is the only way to train a woman or a horse. 
 A man who makes himself feared is loved and obeyed. This 
 is all I wanted to say in your private ear. Good-morning, 
 gentlemen," said he to Mignonnet and Carpentier. " I am 
 taking my uncle for a little walk, you see, and trying to teach 
 him ; for we live in an age when the young people are obliged 
 to educate their grandparents." 
 
 Greetings were exchanged. 
 
 "You behold in my dear uncle the results of an unfortu- 
 nate passion," the colonel went on. " He is about to be 
 despoiled of his fortune and left stripped like Baba — you 
 know to whom I allude. The good man knows of the plot, 
 but he cannot make up his mind to do without his Nanna for 
 a few days to baffle her," and Philippe frankly explained the 
 position in which his uncle stood. 
 
 " You see, gentlemen," said he in conclusion, " that there 
 are not two ways of setting my uncle free. Colonel Bridau 
 must kill Major Gilet or Major Gilet must kill Colonel 
 Bridau. The day after to-morrow is the anniversary of the 
 Emperor's coronation, at which Major Gilet and myself will 
 be present ; I count on you so to arrange the seats at the ban- 
 quet that I may be opposite to Major Gilet. You will, I 
 hope, do me the honor to act as my seconds." 
 
 " We will put you in the chair and sit on each side of you.
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 259 
 
 Max, as vice-president, will be opposite to you," said Mig- 
 nonnet. 
 
 " Oh, the scoundrel will have Major Potel and Captain 
 Renard for his seconds," said Carpentier. "In spite of all 
 that is rumored in the town about his nocturnal excursions, 
 those two capital fellows have stood by him before now ; they 
 will be faithful to him " 
 
 "You see, uncle, how well the pot is simmering," said 
 Philippe. "Sign nothing before the 3d, for, by the day 
 after, you shall be free, happy, adored by Flore, and rid of 
 your finance minister." 
 
 "You do not know him, nephew," exclaimed Rouget in 
 dismay. " Max has killed nine men in duels." 
 
 " Yes, but he was not robbing them of a hundred thousand 
 francs a year," replied Philippe. 
 
 "A bad conscience spoils a man's hand," said Mignonnet. 
 
 "In 3 few days," said Philippe, "you and La Rabouil- 
 leuse will be living together like hearts a la fleur a" orange ,* as 
 soon as she has gotten over her grief; for she will wriggle like 
 a worm, and yelp, and melt into tears ; but let the tap run !" 
 
 The two officers supported Philippe's arguments, and tried 
 their utmost to put some heart into Pere Rouget, with whom 
 they walked for about two hours. At last Philippe escorted his 
 uncle home, saying as his last word: "Come to no decision 
 without consulting me. I know what women are. I paid 
 for one more dearly than Flore will ever cost you. And she 
 taught me how to manage the fair sex for the rest of my days. 
 Women are just naughty children ; they are inferior animals 
 to men ; we must make them afraid of us, for our worst fate is 
 to be led by the nose by those little brutes ! " 
 
 It was about two in the afternoon when the old man went 
 in. Kouski opened the door to him, in tears, or, at any 
 rate, in obedience to Maxence's orders, seeming to weep. 
 
 * Under orange blossoms; i. <?., after marriage.
 
 260 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 " What is the matter? " asked Jean-Jacques. 
 
 " Oh, monsieur ! madame has gone away with Vedie." 
 
 " Go-o-one ! " said the old man, in a voice of anguish. 
 
 The blow was so tremendous that Rouget sat down on one 
 of the steps of the stairs. A moment after he rose, looked in 
 the sitting-room, in the kitchen, went up to his own room, 
 walked through all the bedrooms, came back into the sitting- 
 room, sank into an armchair, and burst into tears. 
 
 " Where is she ? " he cried, in the midst of sobs. " Where 
 is she? Where is Max? " 
 
 " I do not know," replied Kouski. " The major went out 
 without saying a word." 
 
 Gilet, very astutely, had thought it diplomatic to wander 
 round the town. By leaving the old man alone in his despair, 
 he made him feel how deserted he was, and so made him 
 amenable to his counsels. But to hinder Philippe from sup- 
 porting his uncle at this crisis, Max had desired Kouski to let 
 no one into the house. Flore being away, the old man had 
 neither bit nor bridle, and the situation was excessively critical. 
 
 During his walk through the town Max saw himself avoided 
 by many persons who, only the day before, would have been 
 most eager to come and shake hands with him. There was a 
 general reaction against him. The feats of the Knights of 
 Idlesse were on every tongue. The story of Joseph Bridau's 
 arrest, which was now explained, cast dishonor on Max, whose 
 life and deeds had, in this one day, met with their due 
 reward. Gilet met Major Potel, who was looking for him, 
 and who was quite beside himself. 
 
 " What is wrong, Potel ? " 
 
 " My dear fellow, the Imperial Guard is blackguarded all 
 through the town ! The very clerks arc abusing you, and 
 that rebounds on mc, and goes to my heart." 
 
 " What are they complaining of?" asked Max. 
 
 "Of the tricks you played at night." 
 
 "As if a little amusement were forbidden "
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 201 
 
 "Oh ! that is nothing," said Potel. 
 
 Potel was an officer of the stamp of those who said to a 
 burgomaster, " Pooh ! if we burn your town, we will pay for 
 it ! " so he was not much concerned by the pranks of the 
 order. 
 
 "What else?" said Gilet. 
 
 "The Guard is divided against itself! That is what 
 breaks my heart. It is Bridau who has unchained the town 
 against you. The Guard against the Guard ? No ; that is all 
 wrong. You cannot retreat, Max ; you must meet Bridau. 
 I declare I longed to pick a quarrel with that great scoundrel 
 and settle him out of hand ; then these black coats would not 
 have seen the Guard against the Guard. In war I say nothing 
 against it ; two brave fellows have a squabble, they fight it 
 out and there are no counter-jumpers by to laugh them to 
 scorn. No, that long rascal never was in the Guards. A 
 man of the Guard ought not to behave so before all these 
 townsfolk against another man of the Guard. Oh ! the 
 Guard is scoffed at, and at Issoudun too, where it used to be 
 respected ! " 
 
 " Come, Major Potel, do not make a fuss over nothing," 
 said Max. "Even if you should not see me at the anni- 
 versary dinner " 
 
 "What! you are not coming to Lacroix's the day after to- 
 morrow? " cried Potel, interrupting his friend. " Why, you 
 will be called a coward ; you will seem to be keeping out 
 of Bridau's way ! No, no. The foot grenadiers of the 
 Guard must not retreat before the dragoons of the Guard ! 
 Arrange your other business as you will, but be there ! " 
 
 " One more to send to the shades ! " said Max. " Come, I 
 think I can manage my business and be there too. For," 
 said he to himself, " the power of attorney must not be made 
 out to me. As old Heron said, that would look too much 
 like robbery." 
 
 The lion, thus entangled in the net laid for him by Phil-
 
 262 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 ippe Bridau, set his teeth with an inward quiver ; he avoided 
 the eye of the persons he met, and went home by the Boule- 
 vard Villate, muttering as he walked. " Before I fight I will 
 get those securities," said he to himself. " If I fall, that 
 money, at any rate, shall not go to that Philippe. I will 
 have it placed in Flore's name. By my advice the child 
 must go straight to Paris ; and there, if she likes, she may 
 marry the son of some marshal who has had the sack. I will 
 have the power of attorney made out to Baruch, who will not 
 transfer the stock without my orders." 
 
 We must do Max the justice to say that he never looked 
 calmer than when his blood and brain were seething. Never 
 in any soldier were the qualities that make a great general 
 combined in a higher degree. If he had not been checked 
 in his career by being taken prisoner, the Emperor would 
 have found in this fellow a man of the sort needful to a vast 
 enterprise. 
 
 On going into the room where the victim of all these tragi- 
 comic scenes still sat sobbing, Max inquired the cause of his 
 despair; he was greatly astonished; he knew nothing; he 
 heard, with well-acted surprise, of Flore's departure, and 
 cross-questioned Kouski to throw some light on the purpose 
 of this unaccountable journey. 
 
 "Madame just said this," said Kouski; "I was to tell 
 monsieur that she had taken the twenty thousand francs in 
 gold that were in his desk, thinking that monsieur would not 
 grudge it her as wages for these two-and-twenty years." 
 
 " As wages ? " said Rouget. 
 
 " Yes," said Kouski. " ' Oh, I shall never come back ! ' 
 She went away saying so to Vedie — for poor Vedie, who is 
 greatly attached to monsieur, was putting it to madame. 
 ' No, no,' says she, ' he has not the least affection for me ; he 
 let his nephew treat me like the scum of the earth ! ' and she 
 was crying too — ever so ! " 
 
 " What do I care for Philippe ! " cried the old man, whom
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 2G3 
 
 Max was watching. ''Where is Flore? How can we find 
 out where she is ? " 
 
 "Philippe, whose advice you are so ready to take, will 
 help you," said Maxence coldly. 
 
 "Philippe?" said the old man; "what can he do with 
 the poor child ? There is no one but you, my good Max, 
 who can find Flore ; she will come with you ; you will bring 
 her back to me." 
 
 " I do not wish to find myself in antagonism with Monsieur 
 Bridau," said Max. 
 
 "By heaven!" cried Rouget, "if that is all — he has 
 promised me that he will kill you." 
 
 "Ah, ha ! " laughed Gilet, "we will see " 
 
 "My dear fellow," said the old man, "find Flore; tell 
 her I will do whatever she wishes " 
 
 "She must have been seen passing by somewhere in the 
 town," said Maxence to Kouski. " Serve dinner, put every- 
 thing on the table, and then go from place to place, making 
 inquiries, and tell us at dessert what road Mademoiselle 
 Brazier has taken." 
 
 This order soothed the poor man for a minute ; for he 
 was whimpering like a child that has lost its nurse. At this 
 moment Max, whom Rouget hated as the cause of all his 
 misfortunes, appeared to him as an angel. A passion like 
 Rouget's for Flore is strangely like a child's. At six o'clock 
 the Pole, who had simply taken a walk, came in and an- 
 nounced that Flore had set out for Vatan. 
 
 " Madame has gone back to her native place, that is clear," 
 said Kouski. 
 
 "Will you come to Vatan this evening?" asked Max of 
 the old man. "The road is bad, but Kouski drives well, 
 and you will make up your quarrel better at eight o'clock this 
 evening than to-morrow morning." 
 
 " Let us be off," cried Rouget. 
 
 " Put the horse in very quietly and try to prevent the
 
 2t^ A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 town hearing all about this foolish business, for Monsieur 
 Rouget's dignity," said Max. " Saddle my horse, and I will 
 ride ahead," he added in Kouski's ear. 
 
 Monsieur Hochon had already sent news of Mademoiselle 
 Brazier's departure to Philippe Bridau, who rose from table 
 at Monsieur Mignonnet's to hurry back to the Place Saint- 
 Jean, for he guessed at once the purpose of this skillful 
 strategy. When Philippe went to his uncle's door Kouski 
 called to him out of a first-floor window that Monsieur Rouget 
 could receive no one. 
 
 " Fario," said he to the Spaniard, who was walking in the 
 Grande Narette, " go and tell Benjamin to set out on horse- 
 back ; I must positively know where my uncle and Maxence 
 are going." 
 
 "They are putting the horse to the barouche," said Fario, 
 who had been watching Rouget's house. 
 
 " If they start for Vatan," replied Philippe, " find a second 
 horse for me, and return with Benjamin to Monsieur Mignon- 
 net's house." 
 
 "What do you propose doing?" asked Monsieur Hochon, 
 who came out of his house on seeing Philippe and Fario on 
 the Place. 
 
 "A general's skill, my dear Monsieur Hochon, consists 
 not merely in keeping a sharp lookout on the enemy's move- 
 ments, but also in guessing his intentions from his movements, 
 and constantly modifying his own plan as fast as the foe 
 upsets it by some unexpected tactics. Look here ; if my 
 uncle and Maxence go out together in the chaise, they are 
 going to Vatan ; Maxence will have promised to reconcile 
 him to Flore, -whofugit ad salices — for this manoeuvre is Gen- 
 eral Virgil's. If this is their game, I don't know what I shall 
 do. But I have the night before me, for my uncle cannot 
 sign a power of attorney at ten o'clock at night; notaries 
 are in bed. 
 
 " If, as the pawing of a second horse suggests to me, Max
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 265 
 
 is going ahead to give Fiore her instructions before she sees 
 my uncle — as seems necessary and probable — the rascal is 
 done for ! You will see how we play a return match in the 
 game of inheritance, we soldiers. And since, for this last 
 hand in the game, I need an assistant, I am going to Mig- 
 nonnet's to make arrangements with my friend Carpentier." 
 
 After shaking hands with Monsieur Hochon, Philippe went 
 down the Petite Narette to see Major Mignonnet. Ten min- 
 utes later, Monsieur Hochon saw Maxence set out at a hard 
 galop ; and being curious, as old men are, he was so much 
 interested that he remained standing at the window waiting 
 to hear the rattle of the demi-fortunc , which was soon audible. 
 Rouget's impatience brought him out twenty minutes after 
 Max. Kouski, in obedience to his real master, was driving 
 slowly — at any rate, in the town. 
 
 " If they get off to Paris, all is lost ! " said Monsieur Ho- 
 chon to himself. 
 
 At this moment a little boy from the Roman suburb came 
 to Monsieur Hochon's door ; he had a letter for Baruch. The 
 old man's two grandsons, very humble since the morning, 
 had of their own accord stayed at home. Reflecting on the 
 future, they well understood how wise they would be to humor 
 their grandparents. Baruch could not but know how great 
 his grandfather Hochon's influence would be over his grand- 
 father and grandmother Borniche; Monsieur Hochon would 
 not fail to secure the lion's share of all their money to Adol- 
 phine if his conduct should justify them in founding their 
 hopes on such a grand marriage as they had threatened him 
 with that morning. Baruch, being much richer than Francois, 
 had much to lose ; so he was in favor of complete submission, 
 making no conditions but that his debt to Max should be paid. 
 Francois' prospects were entirely in his grandfather's hands ; 
 he had no fortune to look for but from him, since, from the 
 account of his guardianship, the youth was his debtor. So 
 the two young men made solemn promises, their repentance
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 being stimulated by their damaged prospects, and Madame 
 Hochon had reassured them as to the money they owed to 
 Maxence. 
 
 "You have played the fool!" said she. "Repair the 
 mischief by good conduct, and Monsieur Hochon will be 
 mollified." 
 
 Thus, when Francois had read the letter over Baruch's 
 shoulder, he said in his ear — 
 
 "Ask grandpapa what he thinks of it." 
 
 " Here," said Baruch, handing the letter to the old man. 
 
 " Read it to me ; I am without my spectacles." 
 
 " My dear Friend : — I hope you will not hesitate, in the 
 serious position in which I am placed, to do me a service by 
 accepting the office of Monsieur Rouget's attorney. Pray be 
 at Vatan by nine o'clock to-morrow. I shall no doubt send 
 vou to Paris ; but be quite easy, I will give you money for the 
 journey, and join you ere long, for I am almost certain to be 
 obliged to leave Issoudun on the 3d of December. Adieu ; 1 
 rely on your friendship, and you may rely on mine. 
 
 " Maxence." 
 
 " God be praised ! " said Monsieur Hochon, " that idiot's 
 fortune is safe from the clutches of those devils ! ' 
 
 "It must be so, since you say it," observed Madame Ho- 
 chon, "and I thank God for it ; He has no doubt heard my 
 prayers. The triumph of the wicked is always brief." 
 
 "Go to Vatan, and accept the office of attorney to Mon- 
 sieur Rouget," said the old man to Baruch. "You will be 
 desired to transfer stock bearing fifty thousand francs interest 
 to the name of Mademoiselle Brazier. Set out for Paris, but 
 stop at Orleans, and wait till you hear from me. Tell no one 
 whatever where you put up, and go to the last inn you see in 
 the Faubourg Bannier, even if it is but a carrier's house of 
 call."
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 2C7 
 
 "Hey-day!" cried Francois, who had rushed to the win- 
 dow at the sound of carriage-wheels in the Grande Narette ; 
 " here is something new ! Pere Rouget and Monsieur Philippe 
 have come home together in the carriage, Benjamin and Mon- 
 sieur Carpentier following them on horseback " 
 
 "I will go across," cried Monsieur Hochon, his curiosity 
 getting the upper hand of every other feeling. 
 
 Monsieur Hochon found old Rouget in his room, writing 
 the following letter from his nephew's dictation : 
 
 "Mademoiselle: — If you do not set out the instant you 
 receive this letter to return to me, your conduct will show so 
 much ingratitude for all my kindness that I shall revoke my 
 will in your favor and leave my whole fortune to my nephew 
 Philippe. You must also understand that, if Monsieur Gilet 
 is with you at Vatan, he can never again live under my roof. 
 I intrust this letter to Monsieur Carpentier to be delivered to 
 you, and I hope you will listen to his advice, for he will speak 
 to you as I should myself. 
 
 "Yours affectionately, 
 
 "J. -J. Rouget." 
 
 " Captain Carpentier and I happened to meet my uncle," 
 said Philippe to Monsieur Hochon with bitter irony. "He 
 was so foolish as to intend going to Vatan to seek Mademoi- 
 selle Brazier and Major Gilet. I explained to my uncle that 
 he was running head foremost into a trap. Will not that 
 woman throw him over as soon as he shall have signed the 
 power of attorney she insists on to enable her to transfer to 
 herself the stock for fifty thousand francs a year? By writing 
 this letter, will he not see her back here to-night, under his 
 roof — the fair deserter!" Then, addressing Carpentier, "I 
 promise I will make mademoiselle as pliant as a reed for the 
 rest of her life, if only my uncle will allow me to take the 
 place of Monsieur Gilet, who, in my opinion is certainly
 
 268 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 not in the right place here. Am I not right? And my 
 uncle wrings his hands ! ' ' 
 
 " My good neighbor," said Monsieur Hochon, " you have 
 taken the best means of securing peace in your house. If 
 you will listen to me, you will destroy your will, and then 
 you will once more see Flore all that she was in former days." 
 
 "No; she will never forgive me for making her so un- 
 happy," added the old man, weeping; "she will never love 
 me again." 
 
 "Yes, she will love you, and heartily too," replied Phil- 
 ippe. " I will see to that." 
 
 " But open your eyes, man ! " put in Monsieur Hochon to 
 Rouget. " They only want to rob you and desert you ! " 
 
 " Oh, if I were only sure of that ! " exclaimed the poor 
 creature. 
 
 " Look here. This is a letter written by Maxence to my 
 grandson, Borniche," said old Hochon. " Read it." 
 
 "The wretch!" exclaimed Carpentier, as he heard the 
 letter which Rouget read through his tears. 
 
 " Is that clear enough, uncle? " asked Philippe. " I tell 
 you, bind the minx to you by interest and you will be adored 
 — as you can be — half-thread and half-cotton ! " 
 
 " She is too fond of Maxence; she will throw me over ! ' 
 said the old man piteously. 
 
 " I tell you, uncle, by the day after to-morrow either I or 
 Maxence will have ceased to leave our tracks on the streets of 
 Issoudun " 
 
 " Well," said the poor fellow, " go, Monsieur Carpentier; 
 if you promise me that she will come back, go. You are a 
 man to be depended on ; say to her all you think fit in my 
 name." 
 
 " Captain Carpentier will whisper in her ear that I am 
 having a lady here from Paris who is a little gem of youth 
 and beauty," said Philippe, "and the minx will come back as 
 fast as she can drive."
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 2G9 
 
 The captain set out, himself driving, in the old chaise; 
 Benjamin accompanied him on horseback, for Kouski was not 
 to be found. Though the two officers had threatened him 
 with an action and the loss of his place, the Pole had fled to 
 Vatan on a hired horse, to warn Maxence and Flore of their 
 adversary's bold game. 
 
 Carpentier, who did not choose to return with La Rabouil- 
 leuse, was to ride back on Benjamin's horse when he had 
 carried out his mission. 
 
 On hearing of Kouski's desertion, Philippe said to Ben- 
 jamin — 
 
 " You can take his place here this evening. Try to climb 
 up at the back of the chaise without being seen by Flore, so 
 as to be here by the time she is." 
 
 "Things are shaping, Daddy Hochon ! " said the colonel. 
 "There will be fun at the banquet the day after to-morrow." 
 
 "And you will settle yourself here ? " queried the old miser. 
 
 " I have told Fario to send in all my things. I shall sleep 
 in the room that opens on to the same landing as Gilet's; my 
 uncle agrees." 
 
 " Oh ! what will come of all this? " cried the old man in 
 dismay. 
 
 " Mademoiselle Flore Brazier will come of it, within a few 
 hours, as mild as a Paschal lamb," replied Monsieur Hochon. 
 
 " God grant it ! " said Jean-Jacques, drying away his tears. 
 
 "It is now seven o'clock," said Philippe. "The queen 
 of your heart will be here by about half-past eleven. You 
 will see no more of Gilet ; will you not be as happy as a pope ? 
 If you want me to succeed," Philippe added in Monsieur 
 Hochon's ear, "remain with us till that she-ape comes; yon 
 will help me to keep the old fellow at the sticking-point ; and 
 then, between us, we can make Mademoiselle la Rabouilleuse 
 understand where her true interests lie." 
 
 Monsieur Hochon kept Philippe company, seeing that there 
 was sense in his request ; but they both had their hands full,
 
 270 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 for Pere Rouget gave himself up to childish lamentations, 
 which were not checked by the arguments Philippe repeated 
 ten times over — 
 
 " Well, uncle, if Flore comes back and is affectionate to 
 you, you will admit that I am right. You will be made much 
 of; you will keep your income ; you will be guided for the 
 future by my advice, and all will go on like paradise." 
 
 When at half-past eleven the sound of wheels was heard in 
 the Grande Narette, the question was whether the carriage 
 had returned empty or full. Rouget's face wore an expres- 
 sion of indescribable anguish, which gave way to the reaction 
 of excessive joy when, as the chaise turned to come in, he saw 
 in it the two women. 
 
 "Kouski," said Philippe, giving his hand to Flore to get 
 out, "you are dismissed from Monsieur Rouget's service. 
 You are not to sleep here to-night, so pack your things; 
 Benjamin here will fill your place." 
 
 " So you are master ? " said Flore, with a sneer. 
 " By your leave ! " retorted Philippe, holding Flore's hand 
 as in a vise. "Come with me; we have to rabouiller our 
 hearts, you and I." 
 
 Philippe led the woman, dumfounded, out a few yards on 
 to the Place Saint-Jean. 
 
 " Now, my beauty ; the day after to-morrow Gilet will be 
 sent to the shades below by this right arm," said the officer, 
 holding it out, " or he will have caught me off my guard. If 
 I fall, you will be the mistress in my uncle's house — bene sit! 
 If I am left standing on my pegs, you will have to keep him 
 in happiness of the very first quality. Otherwise, I know 
 plenty of rabouilleuscs in Paris, prettier than you, without any 
 injustice to you, for they arc but seventeen ; they would make 
 my uncle very happy, and not fail to take my part. Begin 
 your task this very evening, for if the old man is not as lively 
 as a chaffinch to-morrow, I have only one thing to say to you 
 - -and mark my words — there is only one way of killing a
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 271 
 
 man without the law having a word to say to it, and that is 
 by fighting a duel ; but when it comes to a woman — I know 
 three ways of getting rid of her. There, my pigeon ! " 
 
 All through this address Flore had been shaking like an 
 ague-patient. 
 
 "Kill Max ?" she said, looking at Philippe in the 
 
 moonlight. 
 
 " Now, go. See, here is my uncle " 
 
 In fact, old Rouget, in spite of all that Monsieur Hochon 
 could say, had come out into the street to take Flore by the 
 hand, as a miser might have sought his treasure. He led 
 her into the house and into his room, and locked the door 
 against all intrusion. 
 
 "This is good Saint-Lambert's Day, those who leave must 
 stay away," said Benjamin to the Pole. 
 
 "Oh, my master will shut all your mouths," retorted 
 Kouski, going off to join Max, who put up at the Hotel de 
 la Poste. 
 
 Next day, from nine till eleven, all the women were gossip- 
 ing at the house-doors. All through the town nothing was 
 talked of but the wonderful revolution carried out the day 
 before in Pere Rouget's household. The upshot of these 
 discussions was everywhere the same. 
 
 " What will happen between Max and Colonel Bridau at 
 the anniversary banquet to-morrow ? " 
 
 To Vedie, Philippe spoke a few words — " An annuity of six 
 hundred francs — or dismissal ! " which reduced her to neu- 
 trality for the time between two such formidable powers as 
 Philippe and Flore. 
 
 Knowing Max's life to be imperiled, Flore was sweeter to 
 old Rouget than even in the early days of their housekeeping. 
 Alas ! in love affairs, interested fraud overrides sincerity, and 
 that is why so many men pay clever beguilers so dear. La 
 Rabouilleuse remained invisible next morning till breakfast 
 time, when she came down, giving her arm to Pere Rouget.
 
 •:72 A BACHELOR- S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 The tears rose to her eyes as she saw in Max's seat the terrible 
 veteran with his gloomy blue eye and ominously calm face. 
 
 " What ails you, mademuiselie ? " said he, after wishing his 
 uncle good-morning. 
 
 " What ails her, nephew, is that she cannot bear the idea 
 of your fighting Major Gilet " 
 
 " I have not the slightest wish to kill your Gilet," replied 
 Philippe. "He has only to clear out of Issoudun and ship 
 himself to America with a parcel of merchandise; I should 
 be the first to advise you to give him some money to invest in 
 the best class of goods, and to wish him good-luck ! He will 
 make a fortune, and it would be more creditable than running 
 riot through the town o'nights — not to mention playing the 
 devil in your house." 
 
 " Well, that is very handsome, eh ! " said Rouget, turning 
 to Flore. 
 
 " To A-me-ri-ca ! " said she, sobbing. 
 
 " He would be better off kicking his heels in New York 
 than tucked up in a deal box in France. But, of course, you 
 may say he is a crack hand ; he may kill me ! " remarked the 
 colonel. 
 
 "Will you allow me to speak to him?" said Flore in a 
 quite humble and submissive tone to Philippe. 
 
 " Certainly, and he may come and take away all his things. 
 But I shall stay with my uncle meanwhile ; for I do not intend 
 to leave the old man any more," replied Philippe. 
 
 "Vedie," called Flore, "run to the Postc, woman, and 
 tell the major that I beg him to " 
 
 " To come and take away his things," said Philippe, inter- 
 rupting Klore. 
 
 " Yes, yes, Vedie. That will be the best excuse for asking 
 him to come ; I want to speak to him." 
 
 F :ar so completely overpowered hatred in this woman, and 
 her dismay at meeting a strong arid ruthless will, when hitherto 
 she had always met with adulation, was so great, that she was
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 278 
 
 beginning to give way before Philippe, as poor old Rouget 
 had given way before her. She awaited with anxiety Vedie' s 
 return ; but Vedie came back with a positive refusal from Max, 
 who begged Mademoiselle Brazier to send all his possessions 
 to the Hotel de la Poste. 
 
 "Will you let me take them to him?" she asked old 
 Rouget. 
 
 " Yes — but you promise to come back?" said the old man. 
 
 " If mademoiselle is not here by midday, at one o'clock, 
 you will give me a power of attorney to transfer your securi- 
 ties," said Philippe, looking at Flore. " Take Vedie for the 
 sake of appearances, mademoiselle. Henceforth we must 
 guard my uncle's honor." 
 
 Flore could get nothing out of Maxence. The major, in 
 his disgust at having allowed himself to be ousted from his 
 disgraceful position before the eyes of the whole town, was 
 too proud to retreat before Philippe. La Rabouilleuse com- 
 bated his arguments by proposing to her lover that they 
 should fly together to America ; but Gilet, who did not want 
 Flore without Pere Rouget 's fortune, while he would not let 
 the woman see to the bottom of his heart, persisted in saying 
 that he meant to kill Philippe. 
 
 " We have committed a stupid blunder," said he. "We 
 ought to have gone, all three of us, to spend the winter in 
 Paris. But how could we imagine from looking at that gaunt 
 carcass that things would turn out as they have done? Events 
 have come with such a rush that it has turned my brain. I 
 took the colonel for a swashbuckler without two ideas ; that 
 was my mistake. Since I was not sharp enough in the first 
 instance to double like a hare, I should be a coward now if I 
 yielded an inch to the colonel ; he has ruined me in the 
 opinion of the town; only his death can rehabilitate me." 
 
 "Go to America with forty thousand francs. I will find 
 some way of getting rid of that savage ; I will join you there ; 
 
 it will be much wiser " 
 
 18
 
 274 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 " What would people think of me ? " he exclaimed, stung by 
 the thought of the inevitable " jaw." "No. Besides, I have 
 already settled nine. That fellow can be no great duelist, it 
 seems to me. He left school to go into the army ; he was 
 always in the wars till 1S15, since that he has been traveling 
 in America ; so my bull-dog can never have set foot in a fenc- 
 ing school, while I have no match at sword-play. The 
 cavalry sword is his arm ; I shall seem magnanimous by pro- 
 posing it — for I shall try to make him insult me, and I will 
 make short work of him. Decidedly that is the best thing to 
 do. Be easy ; we shall be masters again the day after to- 
 morrow." 
 
 Thus with Max a foolish point of honor outweighed rational 
 policy. Flore was at home by one o'clock and shut herself 
 into her room to cry at her ease. All that day gossip wagged 
 its tongue freely in Issoudun, for a duel between Maxence and 
 Philippe was considered inevitable. 
 
 "Ah! Monsieur Hochon," said Mignonnet, who met the 
 old man on the Boulevard Baron, where the captain was walk- 
 ing with Carpentier, "we are very anxious, for Gilet is equally 
 strong with all weapons." 
 
 "Never mind," said the old provincial diplomat, "Phil- 
 ippe has managed the whole business very well — and I never 
 should have believed that that long, free-and-easy rascal 
 would have succeeded so quickly. Those two fellows rolled 
 up to meet each other like two storm-clouds " 
 
 " Oh," said Carpentier, " Philippe is a very deep customer. 
 His conduct before the supreme court was a masterpiece of 
 skill." 
 
 "Halloo! Captain Renard," said a townsman, " they say 
 that wolves do not eat each other, but it seems that Max is 
 going to try a ripping match with Colonel Bridau. It will 
 be no child's play between men of the Old Guard ! " 
 
 "And you can laugh at it, you townsmen. Because the 
 poor fellow liked a lark at night, you owe him a grudge,"
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 275 
 
 said Major Potel. " But Gilet is a man who could never stay 
 in such a hole as Issoudun without finding something to do." 
 
 "Well, well, gentlemen," said another, "Max and the 
 colonel have played the game out. Was not the colonel 
 bound to avenge his brother Joseph ? Do you remember 
 Max's treachery towards that poor fellow?" 
 
 " Bah ! an artist ! " said Renard. 
 
 "But Pere Rouget's leavings are in the balance. They 
 say that Monsieur Gilet was about to pounce on fifty thou- 
 sand francs a year when the colonel went to live under his 
 uncle's roof." 
 
 "Gilet — steal anybody's money? Look here, Monsieur 
 Canivet, do not say that anywhere but here, or we will make 
 you eat your words without any sauce to them." 
 
 But the worthy Colonel Bridau had the good-wishes of all 
 the townspeople. 
 
 On the morrow, at about four o'clock, the officers of the 
 imperial army who resided at Issoudun or in the neighbor- 
 hood were walking to and fro in the market-place, in front 
 of an eating-house kept by one Lacroix, waiting for Philippe 
 Bridau. The banquet in honor of the anniversary of the 
 coronation was fixed for five o'clock, military time. Several 
 groups were discussing Maxence's affairs and his eviction 
 from Rouget's house, for the private soldiers had also agreed 
 to hold a meeting at a tavern on the place. Of all the offi- 
 cers, Potel and Renard alone attempted to defend their friend. 
 
 " Is it our part to interfere in what goes on between two 
 heirs?" said Renard. 
 
 " Max is soft to women," remarked Potel the cynic. 
 
 " Swords will be drawn before long," said a retired sub- 
 lieutenant, who now cultivated a market-garden in the upper 
 Baltan. "Though Monsieur Maxence was a fool to go to 
 live with Pere Rouget, he would be a coward to take his dis- 
 missal like a servant without asking the reason."
 
 276 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 " Certainly," replied Mignonnet drily. " When an act of 
 folly fails, it becomes a crime." 
 
 Max, who presently joined the old Bonapartist soldiers, was 
 received with very significant silence. Potel and Renard 
 each took an arm, and led Max a little way off to talk to him. 
 At this moment Philippe appeared in the distance in full 
 dress ; he dragged his cane with an imperturbable air that 
 contrasted with the deep attention Max was obliged to give 
 to what his two last friends were saying. Philippe shook 
 hands with Mignonnet, Carpentier, and a few others. This 
 reception, so unlike that which Max had just met with, finally 
 dispelled from the mind of the latter certain dawnings of 
 cowardice — or of prudence, if you please — to which Flore's 
 entreaties, and, above all, her affection, had given rise when 
 at last he had been left face to face with himself. 
 
 "We will fight," said he to Captain Renard, "and to the 
 death ! So talk to me no more ; leave me to play my part 
 out." 
 
 After these words, spoken in a fever of excitement, the 
 three men rejoined the other groups of officers. Max bowed 
 first to Bridau, who returned the compliment with a very cold 
 stare. 
 
 " Come, gentlemen ; to dinner," said Major Potel. 
 
 " And to drink to the imperishable glory of the little Crop- 
 head, who is now in the paradise of the brave," cried Renard. 
 
 All the party, feeling that the business of dinner would put 
 them in better countenance, understood the little light-horse 
 captain's intentions. They hurried into the long, low dining- 
 room of the Restaurant Lacroix, of which the windows looked 
 out on the market-place. Each guest at once took his seat at 
 table, and the adversaries found themselves face to face, as 
 Philippe had requested. Several of the youth of the town, 
 especially the ex-Knights of Idlesse, somewhat uneasy as to 
 what might take place at this dinner, walked about outside, 
 discussing the critical position in whi< h Philippe had con-
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 277 
 
 trived to place Maxence Gilet. They deplored the collision, 
 while admitting that a duel was necessary. 
 
 All went well till dessert, though the two fighting men kept 
 a sort of watch on each other, not far removed from uneasi- 
 ness, in spite of the apparent cheerfulness of the meal. Pend- 
 ing the quarrel, which both, no doubt, were meditating, Philippe 
 was admirably cool and Max boisterously gay ; but, to the 
 connoisseur, each was playing a part. 
 
 When dessert was on the table, Philippe said — 
 
 " Fill your glasses, my friends ; I claim permission to pro- 
 pose our first toast." 
 
 " He said ' My friends ; ' do not fill your glass," said Cap- 
 tain Renard in Max's ear. 
 
 But Max poured out some wine. 
 
 "The Grand Army!" cried Philippe with genuine en- 
 thusiasm. 
 
 " The Grand Army ! " was repeated like one word by every 
 voice. 
 
 At this moment in the doorway there appeared eleven pri- 
 vate soldiers, among them Benjamin and Kouski, who all 
 repeated, " The Grand Army ! " 
 
 "Come in, boys; we are going to drink his health," said 
 Major Potel. 
 
 The old soldiers came in and remained standing behind 
 the officers. 
 
 " You see, he is not really dead ! " said Kouski to an old 
 sergeant, who had, no doubt, been deploring the Emperor's 
 long agony, now at last ended. 
 
 " I claim the second toast," said Major Mignonnet. 
 
 A few of the dessert dishes were disturbed to keep up ap- 
 pearances. Mignonnet rose. 
 
 "To those who tried to reinstate. his son ! " said he. 
 
 Every one, with the exception of Maxence Gilet, lifted his 
 glass to Philippe Bridau. 
 
 " It is my turn ! " said Max, rising.
 
 27* A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 "Max! — it is Max !" they were saying outside. Deep 
 silence reigned within and in the market-place, for Gilet's 
 temper led them to expect some provocation. 
 
 " May we all meet here again this day twelvemonth ! " and 
 he bowed ironically to Philippe. 
 
 " He is coming on ! " said Kouski to his neighbor. 
 
 " The Paris police did not allow you to hold such banquets 
 as this," said Major Potel to Philippe. 
 
 " Why the devil need you speak of the police to Colonel 
 Bridau?" asked Maxence Gilet insolently. 
 
 "Major Potel meant no harm on his part," said Philippe, 
 with a bitter smile. The silence was so complete that a fly 
 would have been heard if there had been any. 
 
 "The police are sufficiently afraid of me," said Philippe, 
 " to have sent me to Issoudun, a place where I have had the 
 good-luck to find a few of the right old sort. But it must be 
 confessed that there is not much amusement to be found here. 
 For a man who is not averse to the ladies I have come off 
 but badly. However. I will save my money for the pretty 
 dears — for I am not one of the men who find their fortune in 
 a feather-bed, and Mariette of the opera-house cost me no end 
 of money." 
 
 " Is it for my benefit that you say that, my dear colonel," 
 said Max, firing a glance like an electric shock at Philippe. 
 
 " If the cap fits, Major Gilet." 
 
 " Colonel, my two friends here, Renard and Potel, will call 
 to-morrow morning " 
 
 "On Mignonnet and Carpentier," interrupted Philippe, 
 waving his hand to his two neighbors. 
 
 " Now," said Max, "go on with the toasts." 
 
 Neither of the antagonists had raised his voice above the 
 ordinary tone of conversation ; nothing was solemn but the 
 silence in which they were heard. 
 
 "Look here, you fellows," said Philippe, looking at the 
 privates, " remember, our affairs are no concern of the town-
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 279 
 
 folks ! Not a word of what has just been said ; it must re- 
 main a secret with the Old Guard." 
 
 "They will obey orders, colonel," said Renard ; "I will 
 answer for them. " 
 
 "Long live the youngster! May he reign in France!" 
 cried Potel. 
 
 "Death to the Englishman ! " added Carpentier, and this 
 toast was enthusiastically drunk. 
 
 "Shame on Hudson Lowe!" said Captain Renard with 
 much feeling. 
 
 The dessert went off very well, with ample libations. The 
 two antagonists regarded it as a point of honor that this duel, 
 in which an immense fortune was at stake, while the com- 
 batants were both men so noted for their courage, should have 
 no feature in common with a vulgar quarrel. Two gentle- 
 men, in the best sense, could not have behaved better than 
 Max and Philippe. The expectations of the young men and 
 townspeople who had gathered on the market-place were 
 disappointed. 
 
 All the guests, as brother-soldiers, kept the secret of the 
 episode at dessert. At ten o'clock the two principals were 
 informed that the sword was the weapon decided on. The 
 spot selected for the meeting was behind the apse of the Cap- 
 uchin chapel, at eight the next morning. Goddet, who had 
 been present at the dinner, having formerly served as surgeon- 
 major, had been requested to attend. Whatever came of it, 
 the seconds agreed that the fighting was not to last for more 
 than ten minutes. 
 
 At eleven o'clock that night, to the colonel's great surprise, 
 just as he was going to bed, Monsieur Hochon brought his wife 
 over to see him. 
 
 " We know what is happening," said the old lady, her eyes 
 full of tears, " and I have come to beseech you not to go out 
 to-morrow morning without saying your prayers. Lift up your 
 soul to God."
 
 2S0 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 Yes, madame," said Philippe, to whom old Hochon was 
 signaling from behind his wife. 
 
 "That is not all," said Agathe's godmother ; "I put myself 
 in your poor mother's place, and I have deprived myself of 
 my most precious possession. Look here ! " and she held out 
 to Philippe a tooth fastened to a piece of black velvet embroid- 
 ered with gold, to which two ends of green ribbon were 
 sewn ; after showing it to Philippe, she replaced it in the little 
 bag. "It is a relic of Saint Solange, the patron saint of Berry ; 
 I saved it at the time of the Revolution ; wear it on your 
 breast to-morrow." 
 
 "Can it protect me against a sword-stroke?" asked 
 Philippe. 
 
 " Yes," replied the old lady. 
 
 " Then I can no more wear that paraphernalia than I could 
 wear a breastplate," cried Agathe's son. 
 
 "What does he mean?" asked Madame Hochon of her 
 husband. 
 
 " He says it is not fair play," replied old Hochon. 
 
 "Very well; say no more about it," said she. " I will 
 pray for you." 
 
 " Well, madame, a mouthful of prayers and a straight thrust 
 can do no harm," said the colonel, making as though he would 
 pierce Monsieur Hochon through the heart. 
 
 The old lady insisted on kissing Philippe on the forehead. 
 Then, as she went out, she gave Benjamin ten crowns, all the 
 money she had, to induce him to sew the relic into his mas- 
 ter's trousers-pocket. Which Benjamin did, not believing in 
 the virtue of the bone — for his master, said he, had a much 
 larger one to pick with Gilet — but because he was bound to 
 fulfill a commission so handsomely paid for. Madame Hochon 
 went home firmly trusting in Saint Solange. 
 
 At eight next morning, in overcast weather, Max, with his 
 two seconds and Kouski, arrived on the little plot of grass 
 which at that time surrounded the apse of the old Capuchin
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 281 
 
 church. There they found Philippe and his party with Ben- 
 jamin. Potel and Mignonnet measured twenty-five paces. 
 At each end of the line the two men marked a crease with a 
 spade. Neither of the combatants could retreat beyond the 
 mark under pain of cowardice ; each man was to stand on 
 his line and advance as far as he pleased, when the seconds 
 cried "Go!" 
 
 " Shall we take our coats off?" asked Philippe coldly of 
 Gilet. 
 
 "By all means, colonel," said Maxence, with the confi- 
 dence of an old hand. 
 
 The two men kept on only their trousers, the flesh showing 
 pink through their cambric shirts. Armed with cavalry 
 swords, carefully chosen of the same weight — about three 
 pounds, and the same length — three feet, the two men took 
 their stand, their swords pointed downwards, awaiting the 
 signal. Both were so calm that in spite of the cold their 
 muscles quivered no more than if they had been of bronze. 
 Goddet, the four seconds, and the two soldiers felt an invol- 
 untary thrill. 
 
 " They are a fine couple ! " 
 
 The exclamation broke from Major Potel. 
 
 At the moment when the word " Go ! " was spoken, Max- 
 ence caught sight of Fario's ominous face ; he was looking at 
 them from the hole made by the knights of the order to put 
 the pigeons through into his store. Those eyes, from which 
 hatred and revenge shot like two showers of flame, dazzled 
 Max. 
 
 The colonel made straight for his antagonist, putting him- 
 self on guard in such a way as to secure the advantage. 
 Experts in the art of killing know that the more skillful 
 of two swordsmen can take the upper hand, to use an ex- 
 pression that suggests by a figure of speech the effect of 
 the superior guard. This attitude, which allows a man in 
 some degree to see what is coming, so effectually proclaims
 
 282 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 a duelist of the first class that a sense of his own inferiority 
 sank deep into Max's soul, producing that flutter of mind 
 which is the ruin of a gambler when, face to face with a 
 master-hand or a man in luck, he is disconcerted and plays 
 worse than usual. 
 
 " Ah, the wretch ! " said Max to himself. " He is more 
 than my match. I am done for ! " 
 
 Max tried a circular flourish, wielding his sword with the 
 skill of a player at single-stick ; he wanted to dazzle Philippe's 
 eye and strike his weapon, so as to disarm him ; but at the 
 first touch he felt that the colonel had a wrist of iron, as 
 flexible as a steel spring. Maxence had to find some other 
 stroke ; and he, wretched man, wanted to think, while Phil- 
 ippe, whose eyes sparkled more vividly than the flashing 
 steel, parried every attack as coolly as a fencing-master in 
 pads in a school of arms. 
 
 Between two men, when both are so skillful as these com- 
 batants, the issue depends on a circumstance somewhat like 
 that which decides the event of the horrible kicking matches 
 among the common people, known as the Savate. The vic- 
 tory depends on a false move, on a mistake in the distance, 
 as sudden as a lightning flash, which must be followed up 
 instantly. For a certain time, as short to the spectators as it 
 seems long to the adversaries, the fight consists in watchful- 
 ness, absorbing every power of mind and body, but hidden 
 under feints apparently so slow and so cautious that it might 
 be supposed that neither of the men meant business. This 
 instant, followed by a swift and decisive struggle, is agonizing 
 to the skilled beholder. Max presently parried badly and 
 the colonel struck the sword out of his hand. 
 
 " Pick it up ! " he said, pausing in the fight. " I am not 
 the man to kill a disarmed foe." 
 
 It was the sublime of ruthlessness. This generosity showed 
 such certain superiority that it was regarded as the cleverest 
 design by the lookers-on. In fact, when Max took up his
 
 'PICK IT UPl- BE SAID, PAUSING IN THE FIGHT.
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 283 
 
 guard again he had lost li is presence of mind, and again, of 
 course, found himself below the high guard which threat- 
 ened him while covering his adversary. Then he hoped to 
 retrieve his shameful defeat by a daring blow ; he no longer 
 tried to guard himself; he took his sword in both hands and 
 rushed furiously upon the colonel, to wound him mortally, 
 while allowing himself to be killed. Though Philippe re- 
 ceived a sword-stroke which cut his forehead and part of his 
 face, he split Max's skull obliquely by a terrible swashing cut, 
 intended to break the murderous blow Max meant to deal 
 him. These two frantic cuts ended the fight in nine minutes. 
 Fario came down to feast his eyes on the sight of his enemy's 
 death-struggle, for in a man so powerful as Max the muscles 
 twitch frightfully. Philippe was carried to his uncle's house. 
 
 Thus died one of those men destined to achieve great 
 things if he had but remained in the position to which he 
 was fitted ; a man who was a spoilt child of nature, endowed 
 with courage, cool-blood, and the political astuteness of a 
 Caesar Borgia. But education had not given him that lofti- 
 ness of mind and conduct without which no achievement is 
 possible in any walk of life. He was not regretted, for the 
 insidious action of his adversary — a more worthless creature 
 than himself — had succeeded in lowering him in public re- 
 gard. His death put an end to the exploits of the Knights 
 of Idlesse, to the great satisfaction of the town of Issoudun. 
 Philippe got into no trouble in consequence of this duel, 
 which indeed appeared to be the outcome of divine venge- 
 ance, and of which the details were discussed through all the 
 neighborhood with unanimous praise of the two antagonists. 
 
 "They ought to have killed each other," said Monsieur 
 Mouilleron. "That would have been a good riddance for 
 the government." 
 
 Flore Brazier's position would have been a very embarrass- 
 ing one but for the severe illness produced by Max's death : 
 she had an attack on the brain, complicated by dangerous
 
 2S-1 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 in flam mat ion, brought on by the fatigues and shocks of the 
 last three days. If she had been in her usual health, she 
 might perhaps have fled from the house where, just beneath 
 her, in Max's room and Max's bed, lay Max's murderer. For 
 three months she hovered between life and death under the 
 treatment of Monsieur Goddet, who also attended Philippe. 
 
 As soon as Philippe could hold a pen he wrote the follow- 
 ing letters : 
 
 "To Monsieur Desroches, Attomey-at-Law : 
 
 " I have already killed the more venomous of the two 
 beasts, not without getting a hole in my head from a sword- 
 cut, but the rascal happily struck with a dead hand. There 
 remains another viper with whom I must try to come to some 
 understanding, for to my uncle she is as his very gizzard. I 
 was much afraid lest this Rabouilleuse, who is devilish hand- 
 some, should take herself off, for my uncle would have gone 
 after her ; but the shock which came upon her at an evil 
 moment has nailed her to her bed. If God were gracious to 
 me, He would take her to Himself while she repents of her 
 sins. Meanwhile, thanks to Monsieur Hoehon — the old man 
 is well — I have the doctor on my side, named Goddet, a good 
 apostle, who opines that an uncle's inheritance is better placed 
 in his nephew's hands than in those of such a minx. Mon- 
 sieur Hoehon exerts some influence over one Fichet. who has 
 a rich daughter, on whom Goddet has an eye as a wife for his 
 son ; so that the thousand-franc note that has been dangled 
 before him for curing my nut has little to do with his devo- 
 tion. This Goddet, formerly surgeon-major in the Third 
 Line Regiment, has also been ' talked to ' by my friends, two 
 brave officers, Mignonnet and Carpentier, so that he is hum- 
 bugging his other patient. 
 
 " ' There is a God after all, you see, my dear,' says he, 
 feeling her pulse. ' You have caused a great misfortune ; 
 you must repair the mischief. The hand of God is in all
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 285 
 
 this. (What the hand of God is made to do is incredible !) 
 Religion is religion ; submit, be resigned ; to begin with, it 
 will calm your mind, and do as much to cure you as my 
 druss. Above all, remain here to take care of your master. 
 And then, forgive ! Forgiveness is the law of the Christian.' 
 
 " This Goddet has promised that he will keep La Rabou- 
 illeuse in bed for three months. Perhaps the woman will 
 insensibly become accustomed to our living under the same 
 roof. I have secured the cook on my side. The abominable 
 old thing tells her mistress that Max would have made life 
 very hard for her. She declares that she heard the dead man 
 say that if after the old man's death he should be obliged to 
 marry Flore, he did not mean to clog his career with a hussy. 
 And the cook even insinuated that Max would have found 
 means to get rid of her. 
 
 " So all is well. My uncle, by old Hochon's advice, has 
 destroyed his will." 
 
 '.« To Monsieur Giroudeau, at Mademoiselle Florentine's, Rue 
 de Vendome au Marais : 
 
 "My old Comrade: — Find out whether that little puss 
 Cesarine is engaged, and try to persuade her to be in readi- 
 ness to come to Issoudun as soon as I ask her. The little 
 minx must then start by return of post. She must get herself 
 up respectably, and shed everything that smacks of the side- 
 scenes ; she would have to figure in the country as the 
 daughter of a brave soldier killed on the field of honor. So 
 the primmest behavior, a school-girl fit-out, and first-class 
 
 virtue these are the order of the day. If I should need 
 
 her, and if she is a success, at my uncle's death she shall have 
 fifty thousand francs. If she is busy, explain the case to 
 Florentine, and find me, between you, some little walking 
 lady who can play the part. 
 
 " I had my scalp peeled in the duel with my fortune-grabber, 
 and it has given my eye a twist. I will tell you all about it.
 
 286 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 Ah ! old man, we will see good times yet, and have plenty of 
 fun with others — not the same others. If you can forward 
 me five hundred flimsies, I can find use for them. Ta-ta, old 
 cock. Light your pipe with this document. It must be 
 understood that the officer's daughter hails from Chateauroux 
 and professes to be in need of help. However, I hope not to 
 be obliged to have recourse to this dangerous game. Remem* 
 ber me to Mariette and all our friends." 
 
 Agathe, on hearing from Madame Hochon, hastened to 
 Issoudun, and was received by her brother, who gave her 
 Philippe's old room. The poor mother, whose heart was soft 
 again towards her villainous son, enjoyed a few happy days 
 while hearing the citizens of Issoudun sing the colonel's 
 praises. 
 
 "After all, dear child," said Madame Hochon on the day 
 of Agathe's arrival, "youth must have its day. The follies 
 of soldiers who served the Emperor cannot be the same as 
 those of sons looked after by respectable fathers. If only you 
 could know all the tricks that wretch Max would play here 
 by night ! Now, thanks to your son, Issoudun breathes and 
 sleeps in peace. Judgment came late to Philippe, but it came ; 
 as he told us, three months' imprisonment in the Luxembourg 
 leaves a little ballast in the brain ; in short, his conduct here 
 has delighted Monsieur Hochon, and he has won general re- 
 spect. If your son can but remain a little while out of the 
 way of the temptations of Paris, he will end by giving you 
 every satisfaction." 
 
 Agathe, as she heard these comforting words, looked at 
 her godmother with eyes full of happy tears. 
 
 Philippe played the good boy to his mother ; he wanted to 
 make use of her. This astute diplomatist did not want to 
 have recourse to Cesarine unless he found himself the object 
 of Flore's aversion. He understood that Flore was an admir- 
 able tool, moulded by Maxcnce, and to his uncle a habit
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 287 
 
 of life ; he meant to make use of her rather than of a Paris- 
 ian, who might have made the old man marry her. Just 
 as Fouche advised Louis XVIII. to lie between Napoleon's 
 sheets rather than to grant the Charter, Philippe would have 
 liked to lie quietly between Gilet's sheets. Still, he did not 
 wish to cast a slur on the reputation he had just made in 
 the province. Now, to carry on Max's relations with La 
 Rabouilleuse would be as odious on his part as on the 
 woman's. He might, without discredit, live under his uncle's 
 roof and at his uncle's expense, in consideration of his rela- 
 tionship ; but he could have nothing to say to Flore unless 
 she were rehabilitated. In the meshes of these difficulties, 
 the admirable plan occurred to him of making La Rabou- 
 illeuse his aunt. So, with this scheme unrevealed, he begged 
 his mother to go to see the woman and show her some 
 affection, treating her as a sister-in-law. 
 
 " I confess, my dear mother," said he, with a sanctimonious 
 air, and looking at Monsieur and Madame Hochon, who had 
 come to sit with their dear Agathe, " that my uncle's way of 
 life is unseemly ; he has only to legalize matters to win the 
 respect of the town for Mademoiselle Brazier. Would it not 
 be better for her to be Madame Rouget than the housekeeper- 
 mistress of an old bachelor ? Is it not a simpler matter to 
 acquire legal rights by marriage than to try to oust a family of 
 legitimate heirs? If you, Monsieur Hochon, or some worthy 
 priest, would speak of this affair, it would put an end to a 
 scandal that offends respectable people. Then Mademoiselle 
 Brazier would be made happy by finding herself welcomed by 
 you as a sister and by me as an aunt." 
 
 Next day Madame Hochon and Agathe stood by Made- 
 moiselle Flore Brazier's bedside, where they set forth to the 
 invalid and to Rouget all Philippe's admirable sentiments. 
 The colonel was lauded throughout the town as a man of 
 lofty and excellent character, especially in his conduct with 
 regard to Flore. For a whole month the advantages to be
 
 288 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 derived from her marriage with old Rouget were impressed on 
 Flore by Pere Goddet, her doctor — a powerful influence over 
 the mind of a patient — by good Madame Hochon speaking 
 in behalf of religion, and by the gentle and pious Agathe. 
 
 Then when, fascinated by the idea of being Madame 
 Rouget and a respectable and respected citizen's wife, she 
 was only eager to be well and celebrate the wedding, it was 
 not difficult to make her understand that she could not be- 
 come one of the old family of Rouget by turning Philippe 
 out of doors. 
 
 "And, after all," said old Goddet, "is it not to him that 
 you owe this high preferment? Max would never have 
 allowed you to marry Pere Rouget. And then," he whis- 
 pered in her ear, " if you have children, will not Max be 
 avenged? The Bridaus will get nothing." 
 
 Two months after the fatal event, in February, 1823, the 
 invalid, by the advice of all about her, and implored by 
 Rouget, received Philippe, whose scar made her weep, but 
 whose manner to her, softened almost to affection, soothed 
 her greatly. By Philippe's desire he was left alone with his 
 future aunt. 
 
 " My dear girl," said the soldier, " I, from the first, have 
 advised that you should marry my uncle; and if you consent, 
 it can be done as soon as you are recovered " 
 
 "So I am told," said she. 
 
 "It is only natural that as circumstances compelled me to 
 do you an injury, I want to do you as much good as possible. 
 A fortune, a position, and a family are worth more than you 
 have lost. At my uncle's death you would not long have 
 been that fellow's wife, for I have heard from his friends 
 that he had no happy lot in store for you ! 7, 00k here, my 
 dear child, let us understand each other. We will all live 
 happily. You are to be my aunt — nothing but my aunt. 
 
 "You must take rare that mv uncle does not forget me in 
 his will ; on my part, you shall see how I will have you pro-
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 289 
 
 vided for in the settlements. Keep calm, think it over ; we 
 will speak of it again. As you see, the most sensible people, 
 all the town, advise you to abandon an illegal position ; and 
 nobody objects to your seeing me. Every one understands 
 that in life sentiment must give way to interest. You will be 
 handsomer than ever on your marriage-day. Your illness, by 
 leaving you pale, has given you a most distinguished air. 
 If my uncle were not so desperately in love with you, on my 
 honor," said he, rising and kissing her hand, " you would be 
 the wife of Colonel Bridau." 
 
 Philippe went away, leaving this last speech in Flore's mind 
 to arouse a vague idea of revenge, which smiled on the woman, 
 who was almost happy at having seen this terrible personage 
 at her feet. Philippe had just played, in little, the scene 
 that Richard III. plays with the queen he has lately made a 
 widow. The upshot of the scene shows that interest wrapped 
 up in feeling strikes very deeply into the heart and dispels 
 the most genuine grief. This is how, in private life, nature 
 allows herself to accomplish what in works of genius is a 
 master-stroke of art ; interest is the means by which she works, 
 the genius of money. 
 
 Thus, in the beginning of April, 1823, Jean-Jacques Rou- 
 get's room presented the spectacle of a magnificent dinner in 
 honor of the signing of a marriage-contract between Made- 
 moiselle Flore Brazier and the old bachelor. No one was at 
 all surprised. The guests were Monsieur Heron ; the four 
 witnesses — Messieurs Mignonnet, Carpentier, Hochon, and 
 the elder Goddet ; the mayor and the parish priest ; Agathe 
 Bridau, Madame Hochon, and her friend Madame Borniche; 
 • that is to say, the two old women who were authoritative in 
 Issoudun. And the bride was keenly alive to this concession, 
 won for her by Philippe, the ladies regarding it as a mark of 
 protection needed by a penitent damsel. Flore was dazzlingly 
 beautiful. The cure, who had for a fortnight been catechising 
 19
 
 200 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT 
 
 the ignorant Rabouilleuse, was to give her the next morning 
 her first communion. 
 
 This wedding was the subject of the following article, pub- 
 lished in the Journal du Cher at Bourges and the Journal de 
 r Indre at Chateauroux : 
 
 " ISSOUDUN. 
 
 "The religious movement is making progress in Berry. All 
 the friends of the church and respectable people in this town 
 collected yesterday to witness a ceremony, by which one of 
 the chief landowners in this part of the country put an end 
 to a scandalous state of affairs dating from a time when reli- 
 gion was a dead letter in these parts. This issue, due to the 
 enlightened zeal of the ecclesiastics of this town, will, we 
 hope, find imitators, and put an end to these discreditable un- 
 sanctified unions, begun at the most disastrous period of the 
 revolutionary misrule. 
 
 " One thing is noteworthy in the case of which we write : 
 it was brought about by the urgency of a colonel of the 
 imperial army, quartered in our town by a sentence of the 
 supreme court, who, by this marriage, may forfeit his uncle's 
 fortune. Such disinterestedness is rare enough in our day to 
 deserve to be made public." 
 
 Under the contract Rouget settled on Flore the sum of a 
 hundred thousand francs, and an annuity in case of widow- 
 hood of thirty thousand francs. After the wedding, which 
 was splendid, Agathe went back to Paris, the happiest of 
 mothers, and there gave to Joseph and Desroches what she 
 called the good news. 
 
 "Your son is much too deep not to lay hands on her in- 
 heritance," replied the attorney, when he had heard Madame 
 Bridau out. " And you and your poor Joseph will never have 
 a sou of your brother's fortune." 
 
 "You will always be the same — you and Joseph — always
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 291 
 
 unjust to that poor boy," said his mother. " His conduct 
 before the court was that of a great politician. He succeeded 
 in saving a great many heads ! Philippe's errors are the out- 
 come of want of occupation ; his great powers lie idle ; but 
 he has learned how injurious faults of conduct must be to a 
 man who wants to rise in the world, and he has ambition, I 
 am sure ; nor am I the only person who believes in his future. 
 Monsieur Hochon is firmly convinced that Philippe has a high 
 destiny." 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Desroches, " if he chooses to apply his 
 utterly perverse intelligence to making a fortune he will suc- 
 ceed, for he is capable of anything, and men of that stamp 
 get on fast." 
 
 " And why should he not succeed by honest means? " said 
 Madame Bridau. 
 
 " You will see," answered Desroches. " Lucky or unlucky, 
 Philippe will always be the man of the Rue Mazarine, the 
 murderer of Madame Descoings, the household thief. But do 
 not be alarmed ; he will seem perfectly honest in the eyes of 
 the world." 
 
 On the day after the marriage Philippe took Madame 
 Rouget by the arm, when his uncle had gone upstairs to 
 dress, for the couple had come down to breakfast, Flore in a 
 wrapper and the old man in his dressing-gown. 
 
 " Aunt-in-law," said he, leading her into a window recess, 
 " you are now a member of the family. Thanks to me, the 
 lawyers have taken care of you. Now come ! no nonsense. 
 I mean to play the game with the cards on the table. I know 
 all the tricks you could play me, and I shall keep a sharper 
 eye on you than could any duenna. As to what goes on in the 
 house, I shall sit there, by heaven ! like a spider in the mid- 
 dle of its web. Now, this will show you that while you were 
 in bed, unable to move hand or foot, I could have had you 
 turned out of doors without a sou. Read this." 
 
 And he held out to Flore the following letter :
 
 292 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 " My dear Boy : — Florentine, who has at last come out at 
 the opera, in the new house, in a pas de trois with Mariette 
 and Tullia, has never forgotten you, any more than Florine, 
 who has finally thrown over Lousteau and taken up with 
 Nathan. These two sly-boots have found you the sweetest 
 creature in the world, a child of seventeen, as pretty as an 
 English girl, as prim as a lady at her tricks, as cunning as 
 Desroches, as trustworthy as Godeschal ; and Mariette has 
 rigged her out, and wishes you good-luck. There is no woman 
 living who could hold her own against this angel, concealing 
 a demon ; she will be able to play any part, to get round 
 your uncle, and make him crazy with love. She has the 
 heavenly expression that poor Coralie had ; she can cry, she 
 has a voice that would extract a thousand-franc note from a 
 heart of the hardest granite, and the hussy swigs down cham- 
 pagne with the best of us. She is a jewel of a girl ; she is 
 under obligations to Mariette, and is anxious to make some 
 return. After gulping down the fortunes of two Englishmen, 
 one Russian, and a Roman prince, Mademoiselle Esther is 
 just now in very low water. If you give her ten thousand 
 francs, she will be content. She said just now, ' Well, I 
 have never had a citizen to wheedle ; it will be practice for 
 me ! ' Finot knows her well, Bixiou, des Lupeaulx, all our 
 set, in fact. If there were any fortunes left in France, she 
 would be the most famous courtesan of modern times. 
 
 " My style smacks of Nathan, Bixiou, and Finot, who are 
 playing the fool with the above-named Esther, in the most 
 splendid rooms you can imagine, which have just been ar- 
 ranged a la Florine by old Lord Dudley, Marsay's real father, 
 whom the clever little actress has quite bowled over, thanks 
 to the costume of her new part. Tullia is still with the Due 
 de Rhetore, Mariette with the Due de Maufrigneuse, so they 
 between them can get you a ticket-of-leave on the King's fete- 
 day. Try to have your uncle safe under the daisies by next 
 Saint-Louis' Day, come back with the fortune, and spend
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 293 
 
 some of it with Esther and your old friends, who sign in a 
 body to remind you of their existence. 
 
 " Nathan, Florine, Bixiou, Finot, Mariette, 
 " Florentine, Giroudeau, Tullia." 
 
 This letter quivered in Madame Rouget's hands in a way 
 that betrayed her agitation of mind and body. The aunt 
 dared not look at the nephew, who fixed on her a pair of eyes 
 full of terrible expression. 
 
 " I have full confidence in you," said he. " You see that 
 I have ; but I must have something in return. I made you my 
 aunt in order to marry you some day. You are worth quite 
 as much as Esther to my uncle. A year hence we must go to 
 Paris, the only place where beauty can live. You will enjoy 
 yourself rather more than you do here, for it is a perpetual 
 carnival. I shall rejoin the army and be made a general, and 
 you will be a great lady. That is your future ; work it out. 
 But I must have a pledge of our alliance. Within one month 
 you must procure for me my uncle's power of attorney under 
 the pretext of relieving you and him alike of the cares of 
 money. One month after I must have a special power to 
 transfer his stock. When once the securities are in my name, 
 we shall have an equal interest in marrying each other some 
 day. All that, my fair aunt, is plain and precise. There 
 must be no ambiguity between you and I. I may marry my 
 aunt-in-law after a year's widowhood, whereas I could not 
 marry a disreputable nobody." 
 
 He left the room without awaiting her answer. When, an 
 hour later, Vedie came in to clear away the breakfast, she 
 found her mistress pale and in a perspiration in spite of the 
 cool season. Flore was feeling like a woman who has fallen 
 to the bottom of a precipice ; she saw nothing before her but 
 blackness, and on that blackness, as in some dark beyond, 
 flitted monstrous things, indistinctly seen, and filling her with 
 terror. She felt the damp chill of these caverns. She was
 
 204 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 ins! actively afraid of this man, yet nevertheless a voice cried 
 to her that she deserved to have him for her master. She 
 could not struggle against fate; Flore Brazier, for decency's 
 pake, had rooms in Pere Rouget's house, but Madame Rouget 
 belonged to her husband, and so was bereft of the inestimable 
 independence that a housekeeper-mistress preserves. 
 
 In this dreadful position she hoped she might have a child; 
 but in the last five years Jean-Jacques had become absolutely 
 decrepit. This marriage was to the poor old man what 
 Louis XII. 's second marriage was to him. Again, the con- 
 stant watchfulness of such a man as Philippe, who had nothing 
 to do, for he gave up his employment, made any kind of ven- 
 geance impossible. Benjamin was an innocent but devoted 
 spy. La Vedie quaked in Philippe's presence. Flore was alone 
 and helpless. To crown all, she was afraid of death ; without 
 knowing how Philippe could make away with her, she guessed 
 that the suspicion of a coming heir would be her death- 
 warrant ; the sound of that voice, the covert flash of that 
 gambler's eye, the soldier's slightest movement — treating her 
 as he did with the politest brutality — made her shudder. As 
 to the power of attorney demanded by the ferocious colonel, 
 who was a hero in the eyes of Issoudun, he had it as soon as 
 he asked for it ; for Flore fell under his dominion as France 
 had fallen under that of Napoleon. 
 
 Rouget meanwhile, like a moth whose feet are caught in the 
 burning wax of a taper, was fast wasting his remaining 
 strength ; and his nephew, looking on at this lingering death, 
 was as unmoved as the diplomatists who, in 1814, watched 
 the convulsions of imperial France. 
 
 Philippe, who had no belief in Napoleon II., then wrote 
 the following letter to the war minister, and Mariette got it 
 delivered by the Due de Maufrigneuse : 
 
 " Monseigneur : — Napoleon no longer lives. I remained 
 faithful to him after taking the oath ; but now I am at liberty
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 295 
 
 to offer my services to his majesty. If your excellency would 
 condescend to explain my conduct to his majesty, the King 
 will understand that it has conformed to the laws of honor, 
 if not to those of the realm. The King, who thought it but 
 natural that his aide-de-camp, General Rapp, should mourn 
 for his former master, will no doubt be equally indulgent to 
 me. Napoleon was my benefactor. 
 
 " I therefore entreat your excellency to take into considera- 
 tion my request for employment with my full rank, assuring 
 you of my entire submission. This will show you, monseig- 
 neur, that the King will find me the most faithful of his sub- 
 jects. 
 
 "Accept, I beg, the expression of respect with which I 
 have the honor to remain 
 
 "Your excellency's 
 
 " Most obedient and most humble servant, 
 
 " Philippe Bridau. 
 
 " Formerly Major of Brigade in the Dragoon Guards; Officer 
 of the Legion of Honor, under surveillance of the State 
 Police at Issoudun." 
 
 With this letter was a request for permission to visit Paris 
 on urgent private affairs, supported by Mouilleron, who 
 annexed letters from the mayor, the sous-prefet, and the super- 
 intendent of police at Issoudun, who all spoke in praise of 
 Philippe, and dwelt on the article written on the occasion of 
 his uncle's marriage. 
 
 A fortnight later, at the time when the picture exhibition 
 was opened, Philippe received the permit he had asked for, 
 and a letter, in which the war minister informed him that, by 
 the King's orders, he was, as a first favor, reinstated on the 
 army list as lieutenant-colonel. 
 
 Philippe moved to Paris with his aunt and old Rouget, 
 whom he carried off to the Treasury three days after their
 
 296 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 arrival to sign the transfer of the state bond, which thus be- 
 came his own property- The feeble old man and La Rabouil- 
 leuse were flung by their nephew into frantic dissipation and 
 the dangerous company of indefatigable actresses, journalists, 
 artists, and women of equivocal character, among whom 
 Philippe had spent his youth, and where old Rouget found 
 rabouilleuses enough to be the death of him. Giroudeau 
 undertook that Pere Rouget should die the happy death made 
 famous since, it is said, by a marshal of France. Lolotte, 
 one of the handsomest ''walking ladies" at the opera, was 
 Rouget's bewitching assassin. The old man died after a 
 splendid supper given by Florentine ; and whether the supper 
 or Mademoiselle Lolotte finished off the old provincial, it is 
 difficult to decide. Lolotte ascribed his death to a slice of 
 pate de foie gras ; and as the Strasbourg pie could make no re- 
 joinder, it is taken as proved that the old man died of 
 indigestion. 
 
 Madame Rouget found herself in her element in this exces- 
 sively free-and-easy society ; but Philippe gave her Mariette 
 for a chaperon, and she did not allow the widow to play the 
 fool, though her mourning was lightened by some flirtations. 
 
 In October, 1823, Philippe, armed with a power of attor- 
 ney from his aunt, returned to Issoudun to wind up his uncle's 
 estate, a business quickly accomplished, for in March, 1824, 
 he was in Paris with sixteen hundred thousand francs, the net 
 value in hard cash of his deceased uncle's estate, not inclusive 
 of the valuable pictures, which had never been moved from 
 old Hochon's keeping. Philippe banked his money with 
 Mongenod & Son, the house in which young Baruch Borniche 
 had found a berth, and of whose solvency and honesty old 
 Hochon had given a satisfactory report. This firm took the 
 sixteen hundred thousand francs at six per cent, per annum, 
 on condition of three months' notice being given previous to 
 withdrawal of the capital. 
 
 One fine day Philippe went to request his mother's presence 

 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 297 
 
 at his marriage, the witnesses being Giroudeau, Finot, Nathan, 
 and Bixiou. By the marriage contract Madame Rouget, 
 widow, settled all her possessions on her husband in the event 
 of her dying childless. There were no letters of formal an- 
 nouncement, no party, no display, for Philippe had his own 
 schemes ; he took rooms for his wife in the Rue Saint-Georges, 
 an apartment sold ready furnished by Lolotte, which Madame 
 Bridau the younger thought delightful, but where her husband 
 rarely set foot. 
 
 Without letting anybody know what he was doing, Philippe 
 purchased for two hundred and fifty thousand francs a house 
 in the Rue de Clichy, at the time when no one suspected the 
 value which the property in that part of the town would attain 
 — a magnificent mansion, for which he paid fifty thousand 
 crowns down, the rest to be paid off in two years. He spent 
 enormous sums on the interior and in furnishing it, devoting 
 to this his whole income for two years. The splendid pic- 
 tures, cleaned and restored, and valued at three hundred 
 thousand francs, were displayed to full advantage. 
 
 The accession of Charles X. had raised to greater favor than 
 ever the Due de Chaulieu's family ; and his eldest son, the 
 Due de Rhetore, often met Philippe at Tullia's. In the per- 
 son of Charles X. the elder branch of the Bourbons supposed 
 itself to be definitely seated on the throne, and it followed 
 the advice given at an earlier time by Marshal Gouvion Saint- 
 Cyr to secure the attachment of the soldiers of the Empire. 
 Philippe, who, no doubt, gave valuable information as to the 
 conspiracies of 1820 and 1822, was appointed lieutenant- 
 colonel in the Due de Maufrigneuse's regiment. This de- 
 lightful grand gentleman felt himself under an obligation to 
 help the man who had robbed him of Mariette. The corps 
 de fiaS.Wwere not without some knowledge of this promotion. 
 It hau, moreover, been decided by the wisdom of Charles 
 X.'s privy council that his royal highness the Dauphin 
 should assume a slight tinge of liberalism. Hence the great
 
 - >3 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 Puilippe, now the satellite of the Due cle Maufrigneuse, was 
 presented not only to the Dauphin, but also to the Dauphiness, 
 who was not ill-disposed towards blunt manners and military 
 men with a character for fidelity. Philippe quite appreciated 
 the Dauphin's part, and he took advantage of the first per- 
 formance of this assumed liberalism to get himself appointed 
 aide-de-camp to a marshal in favor at court. 
 
 In January, 1827, Philippe, transferred to the King's body- 
 guard as lieutenant-colonel of the regiment to which the Due 
 de Maufrigneuse had been appointed, solicited the honor of 
 being allowed to assume a title. Under the restoration 
 ennoblement became almost a right of the commoners who 
 were promoted to the Guards. Colonel Bridau, having just 
 bought the estate of Brambourg, craved permission to entail 
 the property with the title of count. This favor he obtained 
 by taking advantage of his connections in the highest circles, 
 appearing with a gorgeous display of carriages and liveries ; in 
 short, with the air and style of a lord. 
 
 No sooner did Philippe, lieutenant-colonel of the most 
 dashing cavalry regiment of the Guards, see his name in the 
 army list as Comte de Brambourg than he took to hanging 
 about the house of Lieutenant-General the Comte de Soulan- 
 ges, and paying attention to his younger daughter, Mademoi- 
 selle Amelie de Soulanges. The insatiable Philippe, supported 
 by the mistresses of the most influential men, next craved 
 the honor of being made aide-de-camp to Monseigneur the 
 Dauphin. He had the audacity to say to the Dauphiness that 
 an "old officer, wounded in many a battle and familiar with 
 war on a grand scale, might on occasion be of use to his 
 royal highness." 
 
 Philippe, who could take the tone of any servility, was, in 
 these high circles, exactly what he ought to be, just as he had 
 been a second Mignonnet at Issoudun. He lived in the 
 greatest style, gave splendid entertainments and dinners, ad- 
 mitting to his house none of his old friends whose position
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 299 
 
 might compromise his prospects. Thus he was pitiless to the 
 companions of his debaucheries. He refused point-blank when 
 Bixiou asked him to speak a word in favor of Giroudeau, who 
 wished to rejoin the service when Florentine had thrown 
 him over. 
 
 " He cannot behave himself," said Philippe. 
 
 "So that was what he said of me!" cried Giroudeau. 
 " And I relieved him of his uncle ! " 
 
 " We will serve him out," said Bixiou. 
 
 Philippe wanted to marry Mademoiselle Amelie de Soulan- 
 ges, to be made a general, and to have the command of a 
 regiment of the body-guard. He asked for so much that, to 
 keep him quiet, he was made commander of the Legion of 
 Honor and of the Order of Saint-Louis. 
 
 One evening Agathe and Joseph, walking homeward in 
 the rain, saw Philippe drive past in uniform, covered with 
 orders ; he was lounging in a corner of his handsome coupe, 
 lined with yellow silk, and with a coat-of-arms on the panel 
 surmounted by a count's coronet, on his way to an entertain- 
 ment at the Elysee-Bourbon ; he splashed his mother and 
 brother, recognizing them with a patronizing nod. 
 
 " He is going it; he is going it ! the old rogue! " said 
 Joseph to his mother. "At the same time he might send us 
 something better than the mud in our faces." 
 
 " He is in such a splendid position, so far above us, that 
 we must not owe him a grudge if he forgets us," said Madame 
 Bridau. " To climb so steep a hill, he must have so many 
 obligations to fulfill, so many sacrifices to make, that he may 
 well be unable to come to see us even while thinking of us." 
 
 " My dear fellow," said the Duke de Maufrigneuse one 
 evening to the new Comte de Brambourg, " I am sure that 
 your proposal will be taken in good part ; but to marry Made- 
 moiselle Amelie de Soulanges you must be a free man. What 
 have you done with your wife? "
 
 300 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 •'My wife?' 1 said Philippe, with a gesture, a look, an 
 accent such as Frederick Lemaitre afterwards conceived of in 
 one of his most terrible parts. "Alas! I have the melan- 
 choly certainty of losing her. She has not a week to live. 
 Ah ! my dear Duke, you do not know what it is to have mar- 
 ried beneath you ! A woman who had been a cook, who has 
 the tastes of a cook, and who brings dishonor on me — I am 
 much to be pitied. But I have had the honor of explaining 
 the situation to Madame the Dauphiness ; the necessity arose 
 some time since for saving a million of francs, which my 
 uncle had left by will to this creature. Happily, my wife 
 has taken to drams ; at her death I become the possessor of a 
 million in the hands of Messrs. Mongenod ; I have more 
 than thirty thousand francs in the five per cents. ; and my 
 estate — entailed — which brings in forty thousand francs a 
 year. If, as everything leads us to suppose, Monsieur de Sou- 
 langes receives a marshal's baton, I, with the title of Comte 
 de Brambourg, am in a position to become a general and a peer 
 of France. It will be a fitting retirement for an aide-de- 
 camp to the Dauphin." 
 
 After the Salon of 1823 the painter to the King, one of the 
 kindest-hearted men of his day, had obtained for Joseph's 
 mother a lottery ticket office in the neighborhood of the 
 Halle. Subsequently Agathe was fortunate enough to be able 
 to exchange, without paying any premium, with the holder 
 of a similar office in the Rue de Seine, in a house where 
 Joseph took a studio. The widow now, in her turn, em- 
 ployed a clerk, and cost her son nothing. Still, in 1828, 
 though at the head of a very good lottery office, which she 
 owed to Joseph's fame, Madame Bridau did not yet believe in 
 his glory — which, indeed, was hotly disputed, as all true glory 
 is. The great painter, always struggling with his passions, 
 wanted much ; he could not earn enough to keep up the lux- 
 ury required by his position in society, and by his distin-
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 301 
 
 guished eminence in the younger school. Though he had 
 warm adherents in his friends of the Artists' Society and in 
 Mademoiselle des Touches, he did not appeal to the Philis- 
 tine. This creature, in whose hands the money lies nowa- 
 days, never loosens his purse-strings for talent that can be 
 questioned ; and Joseph saw the classicists and the institute 
 arrayed against him, with critics who waited on these two 
 powers. Besides the Comte Brambourg affected amazement 
 when any one spoke to him of Joseph. So the courageous 
 artist, though upheld by Gros and Gerard, who secured him the 
 cross during the Salon of 1827, had few commissions. If 
 the minister of the interior and the royal establishments were 
 little inclined to purchase his large pictures, the dealers and 
 wealthy foreigners cared still less to be burthened with them. 
 Besides, as we know, Joseph allows himself to be rather too 
 much led away by fancy, and the result is an inequality of 
 work, of which his enemies take advantage to dispute his 
 talent. 
 
 " Painting on the heroic scale is in a bad way," said his 
 friend Pierre Grassou, as he turned out daubs to the taste of 
 the Philistines, whose rooms were ill suited to large canvases. 
 
 "What you want is a cathedral to decorate," Schinner 
 would say, " then you would reduce criticism to silence by 
 some great work." 
 
 All these speeches, which frightened good Agathe, con- 
 firmed her first opinion of Joseph and Philippe. Facts were 
 on the side of the woman, who was still entirely provincial ; 
 was not Philippe, her favorite child, at last the great man of 
 the family? She looked on the sins of the boy's youth as 
 the aberrations of genius. Joseph, whose efforts left her 
 unmoved — for she saw too much of them in their early state to 
 admire them when finished — seemed to her no farther forward 
 in 1828 than in 1816. Poor Joseph owed money; he was 
 crushed under the weight of debt ; he had taken up a thank- 
 less calling that brought no returns. In short, Agathe could
 
 302 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 not imagine why an order should have been bestowed on 
 Joseph. 
 
 Philippe, with strength enough never to go to the gaming- 
 table, and invited to madame's entertainments, the splendid 
 colonel, who at reviews and in processions rode past in a gor- 
 geous uniform, gaudy with two red ribbons, realized Agathe's 
 maternal dreams. One day at a public ceremonial Philippe 
 had wiped out the odious picture of his poverty on the Quai 
 de l'Ecole by passing his mother on the same spot, preceding 
 the Dauphin, with his aigrette, and his shako, and his pelisse 
 splendid with gold-lace and fur. While to the artist she had 
 become a sort of devoted gray sister, Agathe no longer felt 
 herself a mother excepting to the dashing aide-de-camp to 
 his royal highness Monseigneur the Dauphin. In her pride 
 of Philippe she could have believed that she owed her easier 
 means to him, forgetting that the lottery office had come to 
 her through Joseph. 
 
 One day Agathe saw her poor artist so much worried by the 
 heavy total of his colorman's bill that, while cursing the arts, 
 she longed to release him from his debts. The poor woman, 
 who kept house on the proceeds of her lottery tickets, took 
 good care never to ask Joseph for a sou. Thus, she had no 
 money ; but she trusted to Philippe's kind heart and purse. 
 For three years, from day to day, she expected a visit from 
 her son ; she pictured him bringing her an enormous sum 
 and rejoiced in advance over the delight of giving it to Joseph, 
 whose opinion of Philippe remained unchanged, as did that of 
 Desroches. 
 
 So, without Joseph's knowledge, she wrote to Philippe the 
 following letter: 
 
 "To Monsieur le Comte de Brambourg : 
 
 e> 
 
 < i 
 
 My dear Philippe: — For five years you have never 
 given your mother the smallest thought. That is not kind. 
 You ought to remember the past, if only for the sake of your
 
 ACATHE DROPPED THE LETTER.
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 303 
 
 excellent brother. Joseph now is in need of money, while 
 you are swimming in opulence ; he works, while you rush 
 from party to party. You possess the whole of my brother's 
 fortune. In short, from what little Borniche tells me, you 
 have two hundred thousand francs a year. Well, then, come 
 and see Joseph. In the course of your visit leave in the 
 death's-head a score of thousand-franc notes. You owe us 
 that much, Philippe; your brother will nevertheless feel him- 
 self much obliged to you, to say nothing of the pleasure you 
 will give your mother. 
 
 "Agathe Bridau nee Rouget." 
 
 Two days after the maid brought up to the studio, where 
 poor Agathe had just breakfasted with Joseph, the following 
 dreadful note : 
 
 "My dear Mother: — I cannot marry Mademoiselle 
 Amelie de Soulanges with a handful of walnut shells, when 
 behind the name of Comte de Brambourg there lies that of 
 your son Philippe Bridau. 
 
 »> 
 
 As she sank almost fainting on the studio sofa, Agathe 
 dropped the letter. The slight rustle of the paper as it fell and 
 Agathe's low but terrible cry startled Joseph, who was painting 
 away vehemently on a sketch. He looked round the edge of 
 his canvas to see what was happening. Seeing his mother lying 
 there, the painter put down his palette and brushes and flew 
 to raise her, almost a corpse. He took Agathe in his arms, 
 carried her on to the bed in her room, and sent the maid to 
 fetch his friend Bianchon. As soon as Joseph could question 
 his mother, she confessed her letter to Philippe and his reply 
 to her. The artist went to pick up the note, of which the 
 concise brutality had broken th» friiJ heart of the poor mother 
 by overturning the towerjn/ 'Hfvsi rais^ by her maternal 
 preference.
 
 304 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 Joseph came back to his mother's bedside, and had the wit 
 to be silent. He never mentioned his brother during the 
 three weeks while his poor mother lay, not ill indeed, but 
 dying. Indeed, Bianchon, who came every day and attended 
 the poor woman with the devotion of a true friend, told 
 Joseph the truth on the first day. 
 
 "At her age," said he, " and in the position in which your 
 mother will find herself, we can only try to make death as 
 easy to her as possible." 
 
 Agathe, indeed, felt herself so surely called to God that 
 on the very next day she begged the religious care of old 
 Abbe Loraux, her spiritual director for two-and-twenty years. 
 As soon as she was alone with him, after pouring all her 
 sorrow into his heart, she repeated what she had said to her 
 godmother, what she was constantly saying — 
 
 "How have I angered God? Do I not love Him with all 
 my soul ? Have I not walked in the way of salvation ? What 
 is my sin ? And if I am so guilty of an error I am unconscious 
 of, have I now time to repair it? " 
 
 "No," said the old man in a mild voice. "Alas! your 
 life seems blameless and your soul unspotted ; but God's 
 eye, poor, suffering woman, is more penetrating than that of 
 His ministers. I myself see clearly now, but too late — for 
 you have blinded me till now." 
 
 As she heard this speech, uttered by lips from which hith- 
 erto no words but those of peace and honey had fallen for 
 her, Agathe sat up in bed, with wide eyes full of terror and 
 distress. 
 
 " Speak, speak ! " she cried. 
 
 "Be comforted," said the old priest. " From the manner 
 of your punishment you may look for forgiveness. God is 
 severe in this world only on His chosen tew. Woe unto 
 those whose misdeeds find favoring chances ; they will be 
 kneaded again in human form till they in their turn are 
 sternly punished for mere mistakes and ripen into food for
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 305 
 
 heaven. Your life, my daughter, has been one long mistake. 
 You fell into the pit you dug for yourself, for we always fail 
 on the side we ourselves have weakened. You gave all your 
 heart to a wretch in whom you saw your glory, and you 
 have misprized the child who is your true glory. Your in- 
 justice has been so deep that you have not observed this 
 striking contrast ; your means of living even have come to 
 you from Joseph, while your other son has constantly plun- 
 dered you. Your poorer son, who loves you without the re- 
 ward of equal tenderness, gives you your daily bread ; while 
 the rich man, who has never cared for you, and who scorns 
 you, longs for your death." 
 
 " Oh ! for that matter " she put in. 
 
 " Yes," the priest went on, "your humble condition inter- 
 feres with the schemes of his pride. So, as a mother, this 
 is your crime ! As a woman, your sufferings and sorrows 
 promise you the joy and peace and the Lord. Your son 
 Joseph is so noble that his affection has never been dimin- 
 ished by the injustice of your favoritism ; love him as he 
 deserves. Give him your whole heart during these last days. 
 And pray for him — I will go and pray for you." 
 
 The mother's eyes, unsealed by so firm a hand, looked back 
 with a retrospective glance on the whole of her past life. 
 Enlightened by this sudden flash, she perceived the involun- 
 tary wrong she had done, and melted into tears. The old 
 priest was so much moved by the spectacle of an erring and 
 repentant creature, sinning solely by ignorance, that he left 
 the room not to betray his compassion. 
 
 About two hours after the confessor's departure, Joseph 
 came into his mother's room. He had been to a friend to 
 borrow the necessary money to pay his most pressing debts, 
 and he crept in on tiptoe, believing that his mother was 
 asleep. He then sat down in an armchair, without being seen 
 by the sick woman. 
 
 A sob, broken by the words, li Will he ever forgive me?" 
 20
 
 306 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 made Joseph start up with the cold perspiration down his 
 back, for he thought his mother was in the delirium that pre- 
 cedes death. 
 
 "What is the matter, mother?" he cried, terrified to see 
 her eyes red with weeping, her woe-stricken face, and noting 
 her quavering voice. 
 
 " Oh, Joseph ! can you forgive me, my child ? " cried she. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " asked the artist. 
 
 " I have not loved you as you deserved " 
 
 " What a preposterous idea ! " cried he. " You have not 
 
 loved me ? Have we not lived together these seven 
 
 years? Have you not kept house for me for seven years ? 
 Do I not see you every day ? Do I not hear your voice ? 
 Are you not the gentle and indulgent sharer of my poverty ? 
 You do not understand art and painting ! Well, but that 
 is not to be taught. And only yesterday I was saying to 
 Grassou, ' The thing that comforts me in all my struggles is 
 that I have such a good mother ; she is just what an artist's 
 wife ought to be ; she takes care of everything ; she looks 
 after my creature comforts without making any fuss 
 
 " No, Joseph, no. You have loved me, and I have never 
 returned you tenderness for tenderness. Oh ! how I wish I 
 might live ! Give me your hand." 
 
 Agathe took her son's hand, kissed and held it to her 
 heart, gazing at him for a long time, her blue eyes radiant 
 with the affection she had hitherto always kept for Philippe. 
 The painter, who had studied expression, was so struck by 
 the change, and saw so plainly that His mother's heart had 
 opened to him, that he put his arms around her and held her 
 clasped for some seconds, saying like a crazy creature, " Oh, 
 mother, mother ! " 
 
 "Ah, I feel I am forgiven ! " said she. " God must surely 
 ratify a son's forgiveness of his mother." 
 
 "You must keep calm; do not worry yourself. It is all 
 over now. I feel that I am enough loved at this moment for
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 307 
 
 all the past," cried Joseph, laying his mother's head gently 
 on the pillow. 
 
 During a fortnight, while life and death were contending 
 for the saintly creature, she had for Joseph such looks, such 
 impulses of soul and expressions of gesture, as revealed love 
 so perfect that a whole life seemed contained in each outburst. 
 The mother now thought only of her son ; she counted her- 
 self as nothing, and, upheld by love, no longer felt her suffer- 
 ings. She made artless speeches like a child's. D'Arthez, 
 Michel Chrestien, Fulgence Ridal, Pierre Grassou, and Bian- 
 chon came to keep Joseph company, and often held discus- 
 sions in an undertone in the sick woman's room. 
 
 "Oh! how I wish I knew what was meant by color! " 
 she exclaimed one evening when she heard them talking 
 about a picture. 
 
 Joseph's conduct on his part was sublime towards his 
 mother ; he scarcely left her room ; he cherished Agathe in 
 his heart ; he responded to her tenderness with equal tender- 
 ness. It was to the painter's friends one of those beautiful 
 spectacles which can never be forgotten. These men, who 
 were all examples of the union of real talent and noble char- 
 acter, were for Joseph and his mother all that they ought to 
 be — angels who prayed with him and wept with him — not 
 that they said prayers or shed tears, but they were one with 
 him in thought and act. Joseph, an artist as noble in feeling 
 as in gifts, read in certain of his mother's looks a loneine: 
 hidden deep in her heart ; and he said one day to d'Arthez, 
 "She was too fond of that robber Philippe not to want to 
 
 see him again before she dies " 
 
 Joseph requested Bixiou, who was a figure in the Bohemian 
 world which Philippe would occasionally frequent, to make 
 that infamous parvenu promise to assume, out of pity, some 
 show of affection, so as to wrap the poor mother's heart in a 
 shroud graced by illusion. Bixiou, as a student of human 
 nature, a misanthropic scoffer, was ready and willing to un-
 
 308 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 dertake such a mission. When he had explained Agathe's 
 situation to the Comte de Brambourg, who received him in a 
 bedroom hung with yellow silk damask, the colonel burst out 
 laughing — 
 
 " What the devil do you want me to do there? " cried he. 
 " The only service the good woman can do me is to kick the 
 bucket as soon as possible, for she would cut a bad figure at 
 my wedding with Mademoiselle de Soulanges. The less family 
 I have to show, the better for me ! As you may well sup- 
 pose, I only wish I could bury the name of Bridau under all 
 the tombstones in Pere-Lachaise. 
 
 " My brother ruins me by proclaiming my real name to the 
 world. But you, at any rate, are too clever not to understand 
 my position. Come, now — if you were to be elected deputy, 
 you have a ready tongue of your own ; you would be as much 
 feared as Chauvelin, and you might be made Comte Bixiou, 
 Director of the Beaux Arts. If you had achieved that, and 
 if your grandmother Descoings were still alive, how would 
 you like to have that good woman at your elbow — a woman 
 like Madame Saint-Leon ? Would you offer her your arm in 
 the Tuileries ? Would you introduce her to the noble family 
 you might seek to enter ? By heaven ! I tell you, you would 
 wish her six feet under ground, packed in a wrapper of lead. 
 Come, breakfast with me, and we will talk of something else. 
 I am a parvenu, my dear fellow, and I know it. I do not 
 mean to display my baby-clothes ! My son, now, will be 
 luckier than I ; he will be a fine gentleman. The rascal will 
 wish me dead, and I quite expect it, or he will be no son of 
 mine." 
 
 He rang the bell ; a footman came in, to whom he said — 
 
 " My friend will breakfast with me. Send up something 
 elegant." 
 
 " But the fashionable world would not see you in your 
 mother's room," retorted Bixiou. " What would it cost you 
 to pretend to love the poor woman for a few hours ? "
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 309 
 
 " All my eye ! " said Philippe, with a wink. " They have 
 sent you. I am an old bird and not to be caught with chaff. 
 My mother wants to conjure me with her last breath to fork 
 out something for Joseph ! Thank you for nothing." 
 
 When Bixiou repeated this scene to Joseph, the poor painter 
 felt chilled to the very soul. 
 
 "Does Philippe know that I am ill?" said Agathe in a 
 lamentable voice the evening of the very day when Bixiou 
 had given an account of his errand. 
 
 Joseph left the room, choked with tears. The Abbe 
 Loraux, who was at the patient's side, took her hand and 
 pressed it as he replied, "Alas! my child, you have never 
 had but one son." 
 
 On hearing these words, which she understood, Agathe 
 had an attack that was the beginning of the end. She died 
 twenty hours after. In the wanderings of her mind before 
 death the words escaped her, " Who does Philippe take 
 after?" 
 
 Joseph alone followed his mother to the grave. Philippe 
 had gone to Orleans on regimental business, scared from Paris 
 by the following letter, addressed to him by Joseph as their 
 mother breathed her last : 
 
 "Wretch: — My poor mother is dead of the shock your 
 letter caused. Put on mourning. But pretend to be ill ; I 
 will not have her murderer to stand at my side by her coffin. 
 
 "Joseph B." 
 
 The painter, who had lost all heart for his painting, though 
 his deep grief perhaps needed the sort of mechanical diver- 
 sion that work brings with it, was surrounded by friends, 
 who agreed among themselves not to leave him to solitude. 
 Thus Bixiou, who loved Joseph as truly as a scoffer can love 
 any one, was one of a group of friends in Joseph's studio 
 one day, a fortnight after the funeral. At this moment the
 
 310 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 maid bustled in, and handed to Joseph a letter, brought, as 
 she said, by an old woman who would wait for the answer 
 in the porter's lodge : 
 
 " Monsieur : — Whom I do not venture to call my brother, 
 I must apply to you, were it only by reason of the name .« 
 bear " 
 
 Joseph turned the page, and looked at the signature at thf 
 end. There these words, " Comtesse Flore de Brambourg," 
 made his blood run chill, for he foresaw some fresh abominr. 
 tion of his brother's doing. 
 
 " That wretch," said he " would outdevil the devil ! And 
 that is a man of honor — that can hang a peck of tinsel on its 
 breast — that spreads its tail at court instead of being flogged 
 at the cart's tail ! And this precious scoundrel is Monsieus 
 le Comte! " 
 
 " There are many like him," said Bixiou. 
 
 "And besides that, this Rabouilleuse deserves nothing front 
 me," Joseph went on. "She is not worth a curse; she 
 would have left me to have my head chopped off like a fowJ 
 without ever saying ' He is innocent.' " 
 
 As Joseph tossed away the letter, Bixiou nimbly caught it, 
 and read aloud : 
 
 " — Is it becoming that Madame la Comtesse de Brambourg, 
 whatever her faults may be, should be sent to die in a hospital ? 
 If that is to be my fate, if that is the Count's wish and yours, ','• 
 so be it ; but then, as you are a friend of Doctor Bianchon's, 
 obtain his introduction to get me into a hospital. The woman 
 who takes you this letter, monsieur, has been eleven days 
 running to the Hotel de Brambourg in the Rue de Clichy 
 without being able to obtain any help from my husband. 
 The state in which I am prevents my employing an attorney 
 so as to obtain by law what is due to me and to die in peace.
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 311 
 
 Indeed, nothing can save me ; I know it. So if you will 
 positively have nothing to say to your unhappy sister-in-law, 
 give me money enough to enable me to put an end to my 
 days ; for your brother, I see, wishes my death, and always 
 has wished it. Though he told me he knew three certain 
 ways of killing a woman, I had not the wit to foresee the 
 means he has taken. 
 
 "If so be you should honor me with a little assistance, and 
 judge for yourself of the misery I am in, I am living in the 
 Rue du Houssay, at the corner of the Rue Chantereine, on 
 the fifth floor. If I do not pay my arrears of rent to-morrow, 
 I must turn out. And where am I to go, monsieur ? May I 
 sign myself, 
 
 " Your sister-in-law, 
 
 " Comtesse Flore de Brambourg?" 
 
 "What a foul pit of infamy ! " said Joseph. " What is there 
 behind it?" 
 
 " Have the woman up first ; that will be a worthy preface 
 to the story, no doubt," said Bixiou. 
 
 A minute after there appeared on the scene a woman whom 
 Bixiou described as walking rags. She was, in fact, a mass 
 of old clothes and gowns, one over another, bordered with 
 mud from the weather, the whole mounted on thick legs and 
 splay feet, with patched stockings and shoes, from which the 
 water oozed through many cracks. To crown this mass of 
 rubbish was such a head as Charlet has given to his sweepers, 
 helmeted with a hideous bandana, worn threadbare even in 
 the creases. 
 
 "What is your name?" asked Joseph, while Bixiou 
 sketched the woman as she stood, leaning on an umbrella 
 of the year II. of the Republic. 
 
 "Madame Gruget, at your service. I have drawed my 
 dividends in my day, my little gentleman," said she to 
 Bixiou, whose covert smile offended her. "If my pore girl
 
 312 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 hadn't been so unlucky as to be too fond of a man, I shouldn't 
 look so as you see me. She made a hole in the water, saving 
 your presence, my poor Ida. And then I was fool enough to 
 go in for lottery tickets, four numbers, and sticking to them, 
 and that is why at seventy years old, my good monsieur, I am 
 sick-nurse at ten sous a day and my food " 
 
 " But not your clothes," said Bixiou. " My grandmother 
 dressed herself, besides keeping up a snug little ternion." 
 
 " But out of my ten sous I have to pay for a furnished 
 room ' ' 
 
 " And what has she got — this lady you are nursing ? " 
 
 " She has got nothing, monsieur, by way of money I mean ; 
 but she has got some complaint that frightens the doctors. 
 She owes me sixty days' pay, and that is why I stay with her. 
 Her husband, who is a count — for she is a countess — will pay 
 the bill, no doubt, when she is dead, and counting on that I 
 
 have loaned her all I had But I have nothing left, and 
 
 I have put everything up the spout. She owes me forty-seven 
 francs and twelve sous, besides the thirty francs wages, and as 
 she wants to choke herself off with charcoal : ' That is not 
 right,' says I — more by token I told the woman in the lodge 
 to keep an eye on her while I was out, for she is capable of 
 throwing herself out of the window." 
 
 " But what seems to be the matter with her? " said Joseph, 
 kindly. 
 
 "Well, sir, the doctor came from the Sisters; but as to 
 ! what is the matter," said Madame Gruget, with a prudish 
 :iir — " he said she must go to the hospital — and she wouldn't 
 get over it." 
 
 "We will go and see about it," said Bixiou. 
 
 "Here," said Joseph, " here are ten francs." 
 
 After putting his hand into the famous death's-head and 
 taking out all his change, the painter walked to the Rue Maz- 
 arine, where he took a hackney cab and went off to Bianchon, 
 whom he fortunately found at home, while Bixiou set out for
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 313 
 
 the Rue de Bussy, to fetch their friend Desroches. The four 
 friends met an hour after in the Rue de Houssay. 
 
 "That Mephistopheles on horseback called Philippe Bri- 
 dau," said Bixiou to his three friends as they climbed the 
 stairs, "has steered his bark in a cunning way to get rid of 
 his wife. Our friend Lousteau, as you know, only too glad 
 to get a thousand-franc note every month from Philippe, kept 
 Madame Bridau in the company of Florine, Mariette, Tullia, 
 and La Val-Noble. Just as soon as Philippe saw his Rabouil- 
 leuse accustomed to dress and expensive pleasures, he gave 
 her no more money, but left her to make it — you may imagine 
 how. Thus by the end of eighteen months Philippe left 
 his wife to sink a little lower, from quarter to quarter ; and at 
 last, by the help of a splendid young subaltern, he suggested 
 to her a taste for dram-drinking. As he rose his wife sank, 
 and the Countess is now in the kennel. The woman born in 
 the fields is hard to kill ; I do not know how Philippe set 
 to work to get rid of her. I am curious to study this little 
 drama, for I owe the fellow a revenge. Alas ! my friends," 
 Bixiou went on, in a tone that left his three companions 
 doubtful whether he spoke in jest or in earnest. " to get 
 rid of a man you have only to inoculate him with a vice. 
 
 "'She loved balls too well and that was her death,' said 
 Victor Hugo. There you are. My grandmother loved lot- 
 tery gambling ; Pere Rouget loved a petticoat, and Lolotte 
 was the death of him ! Madame Bridau, poor creature, loved 
 Philippe, and by Philippe she has perished. Oh, Vice ! Vice ! 
 My friends, do you know what vice is? It is the Bonneau 
 of death." 
 
 " Then you will die of a jest ! " said Desroches, smiling at 
 Bixiou. 
 
 Above the fourth floor the young men mounted one of 
 those upright stairways like ladders which lead up to the attics 
 of many houses in Paris. Though Joseph, who had seen 
 Flore so handsome, was prepared for a dreadful contrast, he
 
 314 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 could not conceive of the hideous spectacle that presented 
 itself to his artistic gaze. Under the sharp slope of a gar- 
 ret, with no paper on the walls, and on a camp-bed with a 
 meagre mattress stuffed perhaps with flock, the three men 
 saw a woman as green as a body two days drowned, and 
 as emaciated as a consumptive patient within two hours of 
 death. This malodorous carcass wore a common checked 
 handkerchief bound round a head bereft of hair. The cav- 
 erns of her hollow eyes were red, and the lids like the skin 
 that lines an egg-shell. As to the form that had once 
 been so beautiful, it was a squalid skeleton. 
 
 On seeing her visitors, Flore drew across her bosom a rag 
 of muslin that had probably been a window-blind, for it was 
 edged with rust from the iron rod. The furniture consisted 
 of two chairs, a wretched chest of drawers, on which a tallow 
 candle was set in a potato, some dishes strewn on the floor, 
 and an earthen fire-pot in the corner of an otherwise empty 
 hearth. Bixiou saw the remains of the half-quire of paper 
 purchased at the grocer's for the letter which the two women 
 had no doubt concocted between them. The word loath- 
 some is but a positive degree for which there is no superlative 
 to express the effect produced by this abject scene upon those 
 who witnessed it. 
 
 When the dying woman saw Joseph, two large tears fell 
 down her cheeks. 
 
 "She can still weep," said Bixiou. "A strange sight in- 
 deed — tears flowing from a bag of dominoes. It explains 
 Moses' miracle." 
 
 " Is she not dried up?" cried Joseph. 
 
 " By the fires of repentance," said Flore. "I can have 
 no priest, I have nothing, not even a crucifix to see the image 
 of God. Oh! monsieur," she went on, uplifting arms like 
 two carved wooden sticks, " I have been very wicked, but 
 God never punished any one as He has punished me ! Phil- 
 ippe killed Max, who had bidden me to do horrible things,
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 315 
 
 and now he is killing me too. God is using him as a scourge 
 for me ! Behave yourself well, lor we all have our Philippe." 
 
 " Leave rue alone with her," said Bianchon ; " I want to 
 find out it" her complaint is curable." , 
 
 "If she can be cured, Philippe Bridau will be mad with 
 rage," said Desroches. " I will have an affidavit prepared as 
 to the state his wife is in ; he has not taken any steps against 
 her for adultery ; she has all her conjugal rights ; he must 
 face the scandal of a trial. First of all, we will have Mad- 
 ame la Comtesse conveyed to Doctor Dubois' Home for the 
 Sick in the Rue du Faubourg Saint-Denis; she will there be 
 nursed in luxury. Then I shall call upon the Count for rein- 
 statement under her husband's roof." 
 
 "Bravo, Desroches!" cried Bixiou. "What joy to be 
 able to do good that will hurt so much ! " 
 
 Ten minutes later Bianchon came down and said to his 
 friends : " I am off at once to Desplein ; he can save this 
 woman by an operation. Ah ! he will see that she is taken 
 good care of, for the habit of drinking spirits has developed 
 in her a splendid disease that we thought was extinct." 
 
 "You wretch of a doctor, get along! As if she had but 
 one disease," said Bixiou. 
 
 But Bianchon was already in the courtyard, so great was 
 his haste to go and tell the grand news to Desplein. Two 
 hours later Joseph's unhappy sister-in-law was carried to the 
 private hospital founded by Doctor Dubois, which was sub- 
 sequently bought by the city of Paris. 
 
 Three weeks later the Hospital Gazette contained an ac- 
 count of one of the boldest attempts of modern surgery in 
 operating on a patient mentioned under the initials F. B. 
 The subject died, much more of the weakness consequent on 
 prolonged privations than as a result of the operation. 
 
 The Comte de Brambourg at once went in deep mourning 
 to call on the Comte de Soulanges, and inform him of the 
 melancholy loss he had sustained. It was whispered in the
 
 316 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 fashionable world that the Comte de Soulanges was allowing 
 his daughter to marry a parvenu of distinguished merit, who 
 was to be made marechal de camp and colonel of a regiment 
 of the body-guard. De Marsay announced the news to Ras- 
 tignac, who spoke of it at a supper at the Rocher de Cancale 
 where he met Bixiou. 
 
 " That shall never be ! " said the cunning artist to himself. 
 
 If among the friends Philippe had cut adrift there were 
 some who, like Giroudeau, could not revenge themselves, he 
 had proved himself unwary in offending Bixiou, whose wit 
 secured him a reception everywhere, and who never forgave a 
 slight. Now at the Rocher de Cancale, in the presence of 
 highly respectable persons at supper there, Philippe had re- 
 plied when Bixiou asked him to invite him to the Hotel de 
 Brambourg, "You may come to my house when you are a 
 minister." 
 
 " Must I also become a Protestant to get into your house? " 
 replied Bixiou lightly ; but he said to himself, " Though you 
 may be a Goliath, I have a sling, and plenty of stones to 
 fling." 
 
 Next day the practical joker dressed at the house of an actor, 
 a friend of his, and was metamorphosed by the omnipotent art 
 of " make-up" into a secularized priest in green spectacles; 
 then he took a fly and drove to the house of the Comte de 
 Soulanges. Bixiou, treated by Philippe as a buffoon, meant 
 to play a trick on him. 
 
 Being admitted by the Comte de Soulanges on his urgent 
 plea that he had an important matter to lay before the Count, 
 Bixiou played the part of a venerable personage charged with 
 an important secret. In an assumed voice he related the his- 
 tory of the dead Countess' illness, of which Bianchon had given 
 him the particulars, that of Agathe's death, that of old Rou- 
 get's death, of which the Comte de Brambourg had boasted, 
 and that of old Madame Dcscoings' end ; the story of the
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 317 
 
 " loan " from the cash-box of the newspaper, and the facts as 
 to Philippe's general conduct in his worst times. 
 
 "Monsieur le Comte, do not give him your daughter till 
 you have made every inquiry; question his former friends — 
 Bixiou, Captain Giroudeau, and others." 
 
 Three months after this the Comte de Brambourg enter- 
 tained a party at supper : du Tillet, Nucingen, Rastignac, 
 Maxime de Trailles, and de Marsay. The host was taking 
 very easily the half-consolatory speeches made to him by guests 
 concerning his rupture with the house of Soulanges. 
 
 " You can do better," said Maxime. 
 
 '•'What fortune would be expected to qualify a man to 
 marry a demoiselle de Grandlieu ? " asked Philippe of de 
 Marsay. 
 
 " To qualify you ? They would not let you have the ugliest 
 of the six for less than ten million francs," replied de Marsay 
 insolently. 
 
 " Pooh ! " said Rastignac ; " but with two hundred thousand 
 francs a year you may have Mademoiselle de Langeais, the 
 Marquis' daughter ; she is ugly, she is thirty, and has not a sou 
 of her own. That ought to satisfy you." 
 
 " I shall have ten millions within two years' time," replied 
 Philippe Bridau. 
 
 "It is January 16, 1829," cried du Tillet, smiling. "I 
 have been working for ten years, and I have not so much, 
 not I!" 
 
 " We will advise each other, and you will see how I manage 
 money matters." 
 
 " Why, how much have you altogether ? " asked Nucingen. 
 
 "If I sold my securities and everything, excepting my 
 estate and this house, which I could not and will not risk, as 
 they are secured by entail, I could certainly handle three 
 millions." 
 
 Nucingen and du Tillet looked at each other ; then after 
 this keen flash, du Tillet said to Philippe —
 
 318 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 " My dear Count, we will work in partnership if you like.*' 
 
 De Marsay caught the glance that du Tillet had shot at 
 Nucingen, and which said, " Those millions are ours ! " 
 
 In fact, these two great financiers were at the very centre 
 of political affairs, enabling them to gamble on the Bourse at 
 a given date and with absolute certainty, against Philippe, 
 when the chances would seem to him to be in his favor, while 
 in reality they were in theirs. 
 
 The chance came. In July, 1830, du Tillet and Nucingen 
 had enabled the Comte de Brambourg to make fifteen hun- 
 dred thousand francs ; he no longer distrusted them, and 
 thought their advice sound. Philippe, who had risen by the 
 Restoration, and who was misled by intense contempt for 
 civilians, believed in the success of the new decrees, and would 
 play for a rise; while Nucingen and du Tillet, who expected 
 a revolution, played against him for a fall. But the two 
 shrewd partners affected to agree with Colonel the Comte de 
 Brambourg, and seemed* to share his convictions ; they held 
 out hopes of his doubling his millions, and arranged to win 
 them from him. Philippe fought like a man to whom victory 
 means four million francs. His zeal was so conspicuous that 
 he was ordered to return to Saint-Cloud with the Due de 
 Maufrigneuse to sit in council. This mark of favor saved 
 Philippe; for he wanted, on July 25th, to sweep the boule- 
 vards with a charge of cavalry, and he would no doubt have 
 fallen to a bullet from his friend Giroudeau, who commanded 
 a body of the adversary. 
 
 Within a month nothing of his immense fortune remained 
 to Colonel Bridau but his mansion, his estate, his pictures, 
 and furniture. He was fool enough too, as he said, to believe 
 in the re-establishment of the elder branch, to which he re- 
 mained faithful till 1834. Then, on seeing Giroudeau a colonel, 
 Philippe, prompted by a very intelligible jealousy, rejoined 
 the service. In 1835 he, unfortunately, was appointed to the 
 command of a regiment in Algiers, where for three years he
 
 A BACHELOR'S ESTABLISHMENT. 319 
 
 was left in a post of danger, hoping to win his general's epau- 
 lettes ; but a malignant influence — that of General Giroudeau 
 — left him where he was. Philippe, by this time grown hard, 
 carried military severity to an extreme and was detested in 
 spite of his Murat-like bravery. 
 
 At the beginning of the fatal year 1839, in the course 
 of a retreat, he rushed on the foe, supported by one company 
 only. They fell upon a body of Arabs ; the struggle was 
 bloody, frightful, hand to hand, and very few of the French 
 horse escaped. Their colonel was surrounded, but they did 
 not deem it wise to perish in a vain attempt to rescue him. 
 They heard his shout, "Help! Your colonel! A colonel 
 of the empire ! " followed by fearful cries, but they got back 
 to their regiment. Philippe died a horrible death, for they 
 cut off his head, when he fell hacked almost to pieces by 
 yataghans. 
 
 Joseph, who was married about this time to the daughter of 
 an old millionaire farmer, inherited the house and the estate of 
 Brambourg. What gave the painter most pleasure was the fine 
 collection of pictures. Joseph, whose father-in-law adds daily 
 to his hoards, has already an income of sixty thousand francs. 
 Though he paints splendid pictures, and is always doing ser- 
 vices to his fellow-artists, he is not yet a member of the in- 
 stitute. In consequence of a clause in the parchment of en- 
 tail, he is now Comte de Brambourg, which often makes him 
 burst out laughing among his friends in his studio. 
 
 "Fine birds make fine feathers," his friend Leon de Lora 
 will then remark ; for even now that he is famous as a land- 
 scape painter, he has not given up his old trick of perverting 
 proverbs, and he told Joseph a propos of the modesty with 
 which he accepted the favors of fortune, " Never mind. A 
 feast is as good as enough." 
 
 Paris, November, 1842.
 
 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 
 
 (Le Paix du Menage.) 
 
 The incident recorded in this sketch took place towards the 
 end of the month of November, 1809, at the moment when 
 Napoleon's fugitive Empire attained the apogee of its splendor. 
 The trumpet blasts of Wag rain were still sounding an echo in 
 the heart of the Austrian monarchy. Peace was being signed 
 between France and the Coalition. Kings and princes came 
 to perform their orbits like stars around Napoleon, who gave 
 himself the pleasure of dragging all Europe in his train, a 
 magnificent experiment in the power he afterwards displayed 
 at Dresden. Never, as contemporaries tell us, did Paris see 
 entertainments more superb than those which preceded and fol- 
 lowed the sovereign's marriage with an Austrian archduchess. 
 Never, in the most splendid days of the monarchy, had so 
 many crowned heads thronged the shores of the Seine; never 
 had the French aristocracy been so rich or so splendid. The 
 diamonds lavishly scattered over the women's dresses, and the 
 gold and silver embroidery on the uniforms, contrasted so 
 strongly with the penury of the Republic, that the wealth of 
 the globe seemed to be rolling through the drawing rooms of 
 Paris. Intoxication seemed to have turned the brains of this 
 Empire of a day. All the military, not excepting their chief, 
 reveled like parvenus in the treasure conquered for them by 
 a million men with worsted epaulettes, whose demands were 
 satisfied by a few yards of red ribbon. 
 
 At this time most women affected the lightness of conduct 
 
 and facility of morals which distinguished the reign of Louis 
 
 XV. Whether it was in imitation of the tone of the fallen 
 
 monarchy, or because certain members of the imperial family 
 
 21 (321)
 
 322 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 
 
 had set the example — as certain malcontents of the Fau- 
 bourg Saint-Germain chose to say — it is certain that men 
 and women alike flung themselves into a life of pleasure with 
 an intrepidity and a courageous turpitude of word and 
 deed which seemed to forbode the end of the world. But 
 there was at that time another cause for such license. The 
 infatuation of women for the military became a frenzy, and 
 was too consonant to the Emperor's views for him to try 
 to check it. The frequent calls to arms, which gave every 
 treaty concluded between Napoleon and the rest of Europe 
 the character of an armistice, left every passion open to a 
 termination as sudden as the decisions of the commander-in- 
 chief of all these busbys, pelisses, and aiguillettes, which so 
 fascinated the fair sex. Hearts were as nomadic as the regi- 
 ments. Between the first and the fifth bulletin from the 
 Grande Armee a woman might be in succession mistress, 
 wife, mother, and widow. 
 
 Was it the prospect of early widowhood, the hope of a 
 jointure, or that of bearing a name promised to history, 
 which made the soldiers so attractive? Were women drawn 
 to them by the certainty that the secret of their passions 
 would be buried on the field of battle? or may we find the 
 reason of this gentle fanaticism in the noble charm that 
 courage has for a woman ? Perhaps all these reasons, which 
 the future historian of the manners of the Empire will no 
 doubt amuse himself by weighing, counted for something in 
 their facile readiness to abandon themselves to love intrigues. 
 Be that as it may, it must here be confessed that at that time 
 laurels hid many errors, women showed an ardent preference 
 for the brave adventurers, whom they regarded as the true 
 font of honor, wealth, or pleasure; and in the eyes of young 
 girls, an epaulette — the hieroglyphic of a future — signified 
 happiness and liberty. 
 
 One feature, and a characteristic one, of this unique period 
 in our history was an unbridled mania for everything glitter-
 
 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 323 
 
 ing. Never were fireworks so much in vogue, never were 
 diamonds so highly prized. The men, as greedy as the 
 women of these translucent pebbles, displayed them no less 
 lavishly. Possibly the necessity for carrying plunder in the 
 most portable form made gems the fashion in the army. A 
 man was not ridiculous then, as he would be now, if his shirt- 
 frill or his fingers blazed with large diamonds. Murat, an 
 Oriental by nature, set the example of preposterous luxury to 
 modern soldiers. 
 
 The Comte de Gondreville, formerly known as Citizen 
 Malin, whose elevation had made him famous, having become 
 a Lucullus of the Conservative Senate, which "conserved" 
 nothing, had postponed an entertainment in honor of the 
 peace only that he might the better pay his court to Napoleon 
 by his efforts to eclipse those flatterers who had been before- 
 hand with him. The ambassadors from all the powers friendly 
 with France, with an eye to favors to come, the most import- 
 ant personages of the Empire, and even a few princes, were 
 at this hour assembled in the wealthy senator's drawing- 
 rooms. Dancing flagged ; every one was watching for the 
 Emperor, whose presence the Count had promised his guests. 
 And Napoleon would have kept his word but for the scene 
 which had broken out that very evening between him and 
 Josephine — the scene which portended the impending divorce 
 of the august pair. The report of this incident, at the time 
 kept very secret, but recorded in history, did not reach the 
 ears of the courtiers, and had no effect on the gaiety of Comte 
 de Gondreville's party beyond keeping Napoleon away. 
 
 The prettiest women in Paris, eager to be at the Count's on 
 the strength of mere hearsay, at this moment were a besieging 
 force of luxury, coquettishness, elegance, and beauty. The 
 financial world, proud of its riches, challenged the splendor 
 of the generals and high officials of the Empire, so recently 
 gorged with orders, titles, and honors. These grand balls 
 were always an opportunity seized upon by wealthy families
 
 324 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 
 
 for introducing their heiresses to Napoleon's Praetorian Guard, 
 in the foolish hope of exchanging their splendid fortunes for 
 uncertain favors. The women who believed themselves strong 
 enough in their beauty alone came to test their power. There, 
 as elsewhere, amusement was but a blind. Calm and smiling 
 faces and placid brows covered sordid interests, expressions 
 of friendship were a lie, and more than one man was less dis- 
 trustful of his enemies than of his friends. 
 
 These remarks are necessary to explain the incidents of the 
 little imbroglio which is the subject of this study, and the 
 picture, softened as it is, of the tone then dominant in Paris 
 drawing-rooms. 
 
 " Turn your eyes a little towards the pedestal supporting 
 that candelabrum — do you see a young lady with her hair 
 drawn back a la Chinoisef* There, in the corner to the left ; 
 she has blue-bells in the knot of chestnut curls which fall in 
 clusters on her head. Do you not see her? She is so pale 
 you might fancy she was ill, delicate-looking, and very small ; 
 there — now she is turning her head this way; her almond- 
 shaped blue eyes, so delightfully soft, look as if they were 
 made expressly for tears. Look, look ! She is bending for- 
 ward to see Madame de Vaudremont below the crowd of 
 heads in constant motion ; the high head-dresses prevent her 
 having a clear view." 
 
 "I see her now, my dear fellow. You had only to say 
 that she had the whitest skin of all the women here ; I should 
 have known whom you meant. I had noticed her before ; 
 she has the loveliest complexion I ever admired. From hence 
 I defy you to see against her throat the pearls between the 
 sapphires of her necklace. But she is a prude or a coquette, 
 for the tucker of her bodice scarcely lets one suspect the 
 beauty of her bust. What shoulders ! what lily- whiteness ! " 
 
 " Who is she ? " asked the first speaker. 
 
 "Ah ! that I do not know." 
 
 * In the Chinese style.
 
 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 325 
 
 " Aristocrat ! Do you want to keep them all to yourself, 
 Montcornet ?" 
 
 " You of all men to banter me ! " replied Montcornet, with 
 a smile. " Do you think you have a right to insult a poor 
 general like me because, being a happy rival of Soulanges, 
 you cannot even turn on your heel without alarming Madame 
 de Vaudremont ? Or is it because I came only a month ago 
 into the promised land? How insolent you can be, you men 
 in office, who sit glued to your chairs while we are dodging 
 shot and shell ! Come, Monsieur le Maitre des Requetes, 
 allow us to glean in the field of which you can only have pre- 
 carious possession from the moment when we evacuate it. 
 The deuce is in it. We have all a right to live ! My good 
 friend, if you knew the German women, you would, I believe, 
 do me a good turn with the Parisian you love best." 
 
 '• Well, general, since you have vouchsafed to turn your 
 attention to that lady, whom I never saw till now, have the 
 charity to tell me if you have seen her dance." 
 
 "Why, my dear Martial, where have you dropped from? 
 If you are ever sent with an embassy, I have small hopes of 
 your success. Do you not see a triple rank of the most un- 
 daunted coquettes of Paris between her and the swarm of 
 dancing men that buzz under the chandelier ? And was it 
 not only by the help of your eyeglass that you were '.Die to 
 discover her at all in the corner by that pillar, where she 
 seems buried in the gloom, in spite of the candles blazing 
 above her head ? Between her and us there is such a sparkle 
 of diamonds and glances, so many floating plumes, such a 
 flutter of lace, of flowers and curls, that it would be a real 
 miracle if any dancer could detect her among those stars. 
 Why, Martial, how is it that you have not understood her to 
 be the wife of some little officer from Lippe or Dyle, who has 
 come to try to get her husband promoted? " 
 
 " Oh, he will be ! " exclaimed the master of appeals quickly. 
 
 "I doubt it," replied the colonel of cuirassiers, laughing.
 
 326 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 
 
 "She seems as raw in intrigue as you are in diplomacy. I 
 dare bet, Martial, that you do not know how she got into 
 that place." 
 
 The lawyer looked at the colonel of cuirassiers with an ex- 
 pression as much of contempt as of curiosity. 
 
 "Well," proceeded Montcornet, "she arrived, I have no 
 doubt, punctually at nine, the first of the company perhaps, 
 and probably she greatly embarrassed the Comtesse de Gon- 
 dreville, who cannot put two ideas together. Repulsed by 
 the mistress of the house, routed from chair to chair by each 
 new-comer, and driven into the darkness of this little corner, 
 she allowed herself to be walled in, the victim of the jealousy 
 of the other ladies, who would gladly have buried that danger- 
 ous beauty. She had, of course, no friend to encourage her 
 to maintain the place she first held in the front rank ; then 
 each of those treacherous fair ones would have enjoined on 
 the men of her circle on no account to take out our poor 
 friend, under pain of the severest punishment. That, my 
 dear fellow, is the way in which those sweet faces, in appear- 
 ance so tender and so artless, would have formed a coalition 
 against the stranger, and that without a word beyond the 
 question, ' Tell me, dear, do you know that little woman in 
 blue?' Look here, Martial, if you care to run the gauntlet 
 of more flattering glances and inviting questions than you will 
 ever again meet in the whole of your life, just try to get 
 through the triple rampart which defends that Queen of Dyle, 
 or Lippe, or Charente. You will see whether the dullest 
 woman of them all will not be equal to inventing some wile 
 that would hinder the most determined man from bringing 
 the plaintive stranger to the light. Does it not strike you 
 that she looks like an elegy? " 
 
 " Do you think so, Montcornet ? Then she must be a mar- 
 ried woman ? ' ' 
 
 " Why not a widow?" 
 
 "She would be less passive," said the lawyer, laughing.
 
 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 327 
 
 "She is perhaps the widow of a man who is gambling," 
 replied the handsome colonel. 
 
 "To be sure; since the peace there are so many widows 
 of that class ! " said Martial. " But, my dear Montcornet, 
 we are a couple of simpletons. That face is still too ingenu- 
 ous, there is too much youth and freshness on the brow and 
 temples for her to be married. What splendid flesh-tints ! 
 Nothing has sunk in the modeling of the nose. Lips, chin, 
 everything in her face is as fresh as a white rosebud, though 
 the expression is veiled, as it were, by the clouds of sadness. 
 Who can it be that makes that young creature weep?" 
 
 "Women cry for so little," said the colonel. 
 
 " I do not know," replied Martial ; "but she does not cry 
 because she is left there without a partner ; her grief is not 
 of to-day. It is evident that she has beautified herself for 
 this evening with intention. I would wager that she is in 
 love already." 
 
 " Bah ! She is perhaps the daughter of some German 
 princeling ; no one talks to her," said Montcornet. 
 
 " Dear ! how unhappy a poor child may be ! " Martial 
 went on. " Can there be anything more graceful and re- 
 fined than our little stranger? Well, not one of those furies 
 who stand round her, and who believe that they can feel, will 
 say a word to her. If she would but speak, we should see if 
 she has fine teeth." 
 
 " Bless me, you boil over like milk at the least increase of 
 temperature?" cried the colonel, a little nettled at so soon 
 finding a rival in his friend. 
 
 "What!" exclaimed the lawyer, without heeding the 
 general's question. " Can nobody here tell us the name of 
 this exotic flower ? " 
 
 " Some lady companion ! " said Montcornet. 
 
 " What next? A companion ! wearing sapphires fit for a 
 queen, and a dress of Malines lace? Tell that to the marines, 
 general. You, too, would not shine in diplomacy if, in the
 
 328 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 
 
 course of your conjectures, you jump in a breath from a Ger- 
 man princess to a lady companion." 
 
 Montcornet stopped a man by taking his arm — a fat little 
 man, whose iron-gray hair and clever eyes were to be seen 
 at the lintel of every doorway, and who mingled uncer- 
 emoniously with the various groups which welcomed him 
 respectfully. 
 
 " Gondreville, my friend," asked Montcornet, " who is that 
 quite charming little woman sitting out there under that 
 huge candelabrum?" 
 
 "The candelabrum? Ravrio's work; Isabey made the 
 design." 
 
 " Oh, I recognized your lavishness and taste ; but the 
 lady?" 
 
 " Ah ! I do not know. Some friend of my wife's, no 
 doubt." 
 
 " Or your mistress, you old rascal ? " 
 
 " No, on my honor. The Comtesse de Gondreville is 
 the only person capable of inviting people whom no one 
 knows." 
 
 In spite of this very acrimonious comment, the fat little 
 man's lips did not lose the smile which the colonel's sugges- 
 tion had brought to them. Montcornet returned to the 
 lawyer, who had joined a neighboring group, intent on 
 asking, but in vain, for information as to the fair unknown. 
 He grasped Martial's arm, and said in his ear — 
 
 " My dear Martial, mind what you are about. Madame 
 de Vaudremont has been watching you for some minutes with 
 ominous attentiveness ; she is a woman who can guess by the 
 mere movement of your lips what you say to me; our 
 eyes have already told her too much ; she has perceived 
 and followed their direction, and I suspect that at this 
 moment she is thinking even more than we are of the little 
 blue lady." 
 
 "That is too old a trick in warfare, my dear Montcornet !
 
 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 329 
 
 However, what do 1 care ? Like the Emperor, when I have 
 made a conquest, I keep it." 
 
 " Martial, your fatuity cries out for a lesson. What ! you 
 a civilian, and so lucky as to be the husband-designate of 
 Madame de Vaudremont, a widow of two-and-twenty, bur- 
 thened with four thousand napoleons a year — a woman who 
 slips such a diamond as this on your finger," he added, taking 
 the lawyers left hand, which the young man complacently 
 allowed; "and, to crown all, you affect the Lovelace, just as 
 if you were a colonel and obliged to keep up the reputation 
 of the military in home quarters ! Fie, fie ! Only think of 
 all you may lose." 
 
 "At any rate, I shall not lose my liberty," replied Martial, 
 with a forced laugh. 
 
 He cast a passionate glance at Madame de Vaudremont, 
 who responded only by a smile of some uneasiness, for she 
 had seen the colonel examining the lawyer's ring. 
 
 " Listen to me, Martial. If you flutter round my young 
 stranger, I shall set to work to win Madame de Vaudre- 
 mont." 
 
 " You have my full permission, my dear Cuirassier, but 
 you will not gain this much," and the young Maitre des Re- 
 queues put his polished thumb-nail under an upper tooth with 
 a little mocking click. 
 
 " Remember that I am unmarried," said the colonel ; " that 
 my sword is my whole fortune ; and that such a challenge 
 is setting Tantalus down to a banquet which he will de- 
 vour." 
 
 "Prrr." 
 
 This defiant roll of consonants was the only reply to the 
 general's declaration, as Martial looked him from head to foot 
 before turning away. 
 
 The fashion of the time required men to wear at a ball 
 white kerseymere breeches and silk stockings. This pretty 
 costume showed to great advantage the perfection of Mont-
 
 330 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 
 
 cornet's fine shape. He was five-and-thirty, and attracted 
 attention by his stalwart height, insisted on for the cuirassiers 
 of the Imperial Guard, whose handsome uniform enhanced 
 the dignity of his figure, still youthful in spite of the stout- 
 ness occasioned by living on horseback. A black mustache 
 emphasized the frank expression of a thoroughly soldierly 
 countenance, with a broad, high forehead, an aquiline nose, 
 and bright red lips. Montcornet's manner, stamped with a 
 certain superiority due to the habit of command, might please 
 a woman sensible enough not to aim at making a slave of her 
 husband. The colonel smiled as he looked at the lawyer, one 
 of his favorite and most esteemed college friends, whose small 
 though well-built figure made it necessary for Montcornet 
 to look down a little as he answered his raillery with a friendly 
 glance. 
 
 Baron Martial de la Roche-Hugon was a young Provencal 
 patronized by Napoleon ; his fate might probably be some 
 splendid embassy. He had won the Emperor by his Italian 
 suppleness and a genius for intrigue, a drawing-room eloquence, 
 and a knowledge of manners, which are so good a substitute 
 for the higher qualities of a sterling man. Though young 
 and eager, his face had already acquired the rigid brilliancy 
 of tinned iron, one of the indispensable characteristics of 
 diplomatists, which allows them to conceal their emotions 
 and disguise their feelings, unless, indeed, this impassibility 
 indicates an absence of all emotion and the death of every 
 feeling. The heart of a diplomat may be regarded as an in- 
 soluble problem, for the three most illustrious ambassadors of 
 ihe time have been distinguised by perdurable hatreds and 
 most romantic attachments. 
 
 Martial, however, was one of those men who are capable 
 of reckoning on the future in the midst of their intensest 
 enjoyment ; he had already learned to judge the world, and 
 hid his ambition under the fatuity of a lady-killer, cloaking 
 his talent under the commonplace of mediocrity as soon as
 
 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 331 
 
 he observed the rapid advancement of those men who gave the 
 Master little umbrage. 
 
 The two friends now had to part with a cordial grasp of 
 hands. The introductory tune, warning the ladies to form in 
 squares for a fresh quadrille, cleared the men away from the 
 space they had filled while talking in the middle of the large 
 room. This hurried dialogue had taken place during the 
 usual interval between two dances, in front of the fireplace of 
 the great drawing-room of Gondreville's mansion. The ques- 
 tions and answers of this very ordinary ball-room gossip had 
 been almost whispered by each of the speakers into his neigh- 
 bor's ear. At the same time, the chandeliers and the flam- 
 beaux on the chimney-shelf shed such a flood of light on the 
 two friends that their faces, strongly illuminated, failed, in 
 spite of their diplomatic discretion, to conceal the faint ex- 
 pression of their feelings either from the keen-sighted Coun- 
 tess or from the artless stranger. This espionage of people's 
 thoughts is perhaps to idle persons one of the pleasures they 
 find in society, while numbers of disappointed numskulls are 
 bored there without daring to own it. 
 
 'o 
 
 Fully to appreciate the interest of this conversation, it is 
 necessary to relate an incident which would presently serve as 
 an invisible bond, drawing together the actors in this little 
 drama, who were at present scattered through the rooms. 
 
 At about eleven o'clock, just as the dancers were returning 
 to their seats, the company had observed the entrance of the 
 handsomest woman in Paris, the queen of fashion, the only 
 person wanting to this brilliant assembly. She made it a rule 
 never to appear till the moment when a party had reached that 
 pitch of excited movement which does not allow the women 
 to preserve much longer the freshness of their faces or of their 
 dress. This brief hour is, as it were, the springtime of a ball. 
 An hour after, when pleasure falls flat and fatigue is encroach- 
 ing, everything is spoilt. Madame de Vaudremont never
 
 332 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 
 
 committed the blunder of remaining at a party to be seen 
 with drooping flowers, hair out of curl, tumbled frills, and a 
 face like every other that sleep is courting — not always with- 
 out success. She took good care not let her beauty be seen 
 drowsy, as her rivals did ; she was so clever as to keep up her 
 reputation for smartness by always leaving a ball-room in bril- 
 liant order, as she had entered it. Women whispered to each 
 other with a feeling of envy that she planned and wore as 
 many different dresses as the parties she went to in one even- 
 ing. 
 
 On the present occasion Madame de Vaudremont was not 
 destined to be free to leave when she would the ball-room she 
 had entered in triumph. Pausing for a moment on the 
 threshold, she shot swift but observant glances on the women 
 present, hastily scrutinizing their dresses to assure herself that 
 her own eclipsed them all. 
 
 The illustrious beauty presented herself to the admiration 
 of the crowd at the same moment with one of the bravest 
 colonels of the Guards' Artillery and the Emperor's favorite, 
 the Comte de Soulanges. The transient and fortuitous asso- 
 ciation of these two had about it a certain air of mystery. On 
 hearing the names announced of Monsieur de Soulanges and 
 the Comtesse de Vaudremont, a few women sitting by the wall 
 rose, and men, hurrying in from the side-rooms, pressed for- 
 ward to the principal doorway. One of the jesters who are 
 always to be found in any large assembly said, as the Countess 
 and her escort came in, that ''women had quite as much 
 curiosity about seeing a man who was faithful to his passion 
 as men had in studying a woman who was difficult to en- 
 thrall." 
 
 Though the Comte de Soulanges, a young man of about 
 two-and-thirty, was endowed with the nervous temperament 
 which in a man gives rise to fine qualities, his slender build 
 and pale complexion were not at first sight attractive ; his 
 black eyes betrayed great vivacity, but he was taciturn in com-
 
 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 333 
 
 pany, and there was nothing in his appearance to reveal the 
 gift for oratory which subsequently distinguished him, on the 
 right, in the legislative assembly under the Restoration. 
 
 The Comtesse de Vaudremont, a tall woman, rather fat, 
 with a skin of dazzling whiteness, a small head that she carried 
 well, and the immense advantage of inspiring love by the 
 graciousness of her manner, was one of those beings who keep 
 all the promise of their beauty. 
 
 The pair, who for a few minutes were the centre of general 
 observation, did not for long give curiosity an opportunity of 
 exercising itself about them. The colonel and the Cuuntess 
 seemed perfectly to understand that accident had placed them 
 in an awkward position. Martial, as they came forward, had 
 hastened to join the group of men by the fireplace, that he 
 might watch Madame de Vaudremont with the jealous anxiety 
 of the first flame of passion, from behind the heads wiiii h 
 formed a sort of rampart ; a secret voice seemed to warn him 
 that the success on which he prided himself might perhaps be 
 precarious. But the coldly polite smile with which the 
 Countess thanked Monsieur de Soulanges, and her little bow 
 of dismissal as she sat down by Madame de Gondreville, re- 
 laxed the muscles of his face which jealousy had made rigid. 
 Seeing Soulanges, however, still standing quite near the sofa 
 on which Madame de Vaudremont was seated, not apparently 
 having understood the glance by which the lady had con- 
 veyed to him that they were both playing a ridiculous part, 
 the volcanic Provencal again knit the black brows that over- 
 shadowed his blue eyes, smoothed his chestnut curls to keep 
 himself in countenance, and without betraying the agitation 
 which made his heart beat, watched the faces of the Countess 
 and of Monsieur de Soulanges while still chatting with his 
 neighbors. He then took the hand of Colonel Montcornet, 
 who had just renewed their old acquaintance, but he listened 
 to him without hearing him ; his mind was elsewhere. 
 
 Soulanges was gazing calmly at the women, sitting four
 
 334 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 
 
 ranks deep all round the immense ball-room, admiring this 
 dado of diamonds, rubies, masses of gold and shining hair, 
 of which the lustre almost outshone the blaze of wax-lights, 
 the cut-glass of the chandeliers, and the gilding. His rival's 
 stolid indifference put the lawyer out of countenance. Quite 
 incapable of controlling his secret transports of impatience, 
 Martial went towards Madame de Vaudremont with a bow. 
 On seeing the Provencal, Soulanges gave him a covert glance, 
 and impertinently turned away his head. Solemn silence 
 now reigned in the room, where curiosity was at the highest 
 pitch. All these eager faces wore the strangest mixed expres- 
 sions ; every one apprehended one of those outbreaks which 
 men of breeding carefully avoid. Suddenly the Count's pale 
 face turned as red as the scarlet facings of his coat, and 
 he fixed his gaze on the floor that the cause of his agitation 
 might not be guessed. On catching sight of the unknown 
 lady humbly seated by the pedestal of the candelabrum, he 
 moved away with a melancholy air, passing in front of the 
 lawyer, and took refuge in one of the card-rooms. Martial 
 and all the company thought that Soulanges had publicly sur- 
 rendered the post, out of fear of the ridicule which invariably 
 attaches to a discarded lover. The lawyer proudly raised his 
 head and looked at the strange lady ; then, as he took his 
 seat at his ease near Madame de Vaudremont, he listened to 
 her so inattentively that he did not catch these words spoken 
 behind her fan — 
 
 " Martial, you will oblige me this evening by not wearing 
 that ring that you snatched from me. I have my reasons, 
 and will explain them to you in a moment when we go away. 
 You must give me your arm to go to the Princesse de 
 Wagram's." 
 
 "Why did you come in with the colonel?" asked the 
 Baron. 
 
 "I met him in the hall," she replied. "But leave me 
 now ; everybody is looking at us."
 
 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 335 
 
 Martial returned to the colonel of cuirassiers. Then it was 
 that the little blue lady had become the object of the curi- 
 osity which agitated in such various ways the colonel, Sou- 
 langes, Martial, and Madame de Vaudremont. 
 
 When the friends parted, after the challenge which closed 
 their conversation, the Baron flew to Madame de Vaudremont, 
 and led her to a place in the most brilliant quadrille. 
 Favored by the sort of intoxication which dancing always 
 produces in a woman, and by the turmoil of a ball, where 
 men appear in all the trickery of dress, which adds no less to 
 their attractions than it does to those of women, Martial 
 thought he might yield with impunity to the charm that 
 attracted his gaze to the fair stranger. Though he suc- 
 ceeded in hiding his first glances towards the lady in blue 
 from the anxious activity of the Countess' eyes, he was ere 
 long caught in the act ; and though he managed to excuse 
 himself once for his absence of mind, he could not justify the 
 unseemly silence with which he presently heard the most in- 
 sinuating question which a woman can put to a man — 
 
 " Do you like me very much this evening ? " 
 
 And the more dreamy he became, the more the Countess 
 pressed and teased him. 
 
 While Martial was dancing, the colonel moved from group 
 to group, seeking information about the unknown lady. 
 After exhausting the good-humor even of the most indifferent, 
 he had resolved to take advantage of a moment when the 
 Comtesse de Gondreville seemed to be at liberty, to ask her 
 the name of the mysterious lady, when he perceived a little 
 space left clear between the pedestal of the candelabrum and 
 the two sofas which ended in that corner. The dance had 
 left several of the chairs vacant, which formed rows of forti- 
 fications held by mothers or women of middle age ; and the 
 colonel seized the opportunity to make his way through this 
 palisade hung with shawls and wraps. He began by making 
 himself agreeable to the dowagers, and so from one to another,
 
 336 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 
 
 and from compliment to compliment, he at last reached the 
 empty space next the stranger. At the risk of catching on to 
 the gryphons and chimeras of the huge candelabrum, he 
 stood there, braving the glare and dropping of the wax- 
 candles, to Martial's extreme annoyance. 
 
 The colonel, far too tactful to speak suddenly to the little 
 blue lady on his right, began by saying to a plain woman who 
 was seated on the left — 
 
 " This is a splendid ball, madame ! What luxury ! What 
 life! On my word, every woman here is pretty! You are 
 not dancing — because you do not care for it, no doubt." 
 
 This vapid conversation was solely intended to induce his 
 right-hand neighbor to speak ; but she, silent and absent- 
 minded, paid not the least attention. The officer had in 
 store a number of phrases which he intended should lead up 
 to : " And you, madame ? " a question from which he hoped 
 great things. But he was strangely surprised to see tears in 
 the strange lady's eyes, which seemed wholly absorbed in 
 gazing on Madame de Vaudremont. 
 
 " You are married, no doubt, madame?" he asked her at 
 length, in hesitating tones. 
 
 "Yes, monsieur," replied the lady. 
 
 " And your husband is here, of course? " 
 
 " Yes, monsieur." 
 
 " And why, madame, do you remain in this spot? Is it to 
 attract attention ?" 
 
 The mournful lady smiled sadly. 
 
 " Allow me the honor, madame, of being your partner in 
 the next quadrille, and 1 will take care not to bring you back 
 here. I see a vacant settee near the fire; come and take it. 
 When so many people arc ready to ascend the throne, and 
 royalty is the mania of the day, I cannot imagine that you 
 will refuse the title of Queen of the Ball which your beauty 
 may claim." 
 
 " I do not intend to dance, monsieur."
 
 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 337 
 
 The curt tone of the lady's replies was so discouraging 
 that the colonel found himself compelled to raise the siege. 
 Martial, who guessed what the officer's last request had been, 
 and the refusal he had met with, began to smile, and stroked 
 his chin, making the diamond sparkle which he wore on his 
 finger. 
 
 "What are you laughing at?" said the Comtesse de Vau- 
 dremont. 
 
 "At the failure of the poor colonel, who has just put his 
 foot in it " 
 
 " I begged you to take your ring off," said the Countess, 
 interrupting him. 
 
 " I did not hear you." 
 
 " If you can hear nothing this evening, at any rate you see 
 everything, Monsieur le Baron," said Madame de Vaudre- 
 mont, with an air of vexation. 
 
 "That young man is displaying a very fine diamond," the 
 stranger remarked to the colonel. 
 
 "Splendid," he replied. " The man is the Baron Martial 
 de la Roche-Hugon, one of my most intimate friends." 
 
 " I have to thank you for telling me his name," she went 
 on ; " he seems an agreeable man." 
 
 "Yes, but he is rather fickle." 
 
 " He seems to be on the best terms with the Comtesse de 
 Vaudremont?" said the lady, with an inquiring look at the 
 colonel." 
 
 " On the very best." 
 
 The unknown turned pale. 
 
 " Halloo ! " thought the soldier, " she is in love with that 
 lucky devil Martial." 
 
 "I fancied that Madame de Vaudremont had long been 
 devoted to Monsieur de Soulanges," said the lady, recovering 
 a little from the suppressed grief which had clouded the fair- 
 ness of her face. 
 
 " For a week past the Countess has been faithless," replied 
 22
 
 338 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 
 
 the colonel. '■' But you must have seen poor Soulanges when 
 he came in ; he is still trying to disbelieve in his disaster." 
 
 "Yes, I saw him," said the lady. Then she added, 
 "Thank you very much, monsieur," in a tone which signified 
 a dismissal. 
 
 At this moment the quadrille was coming to an end. 
 Montcornet had only time to withdraw, saying to himself by 
 way of consolation, " She is married." 
 
 "Well, valiant Cuirassier," exclaimed the Baron, drawing 
 the colonel aside into a window-bay to breathe the fresh air 
 from the garden, " how are you getting on? " 
 " She is a married woman, my dear fellow." 
 "What does that matter ? " 
 
 " Oh, deuce take it ! I am a decent sort of man," replied 
 the colonel. "I have no idea of paying my addresses to a 
 woman I cannot marry. Besides, Martial, she expressly told 
 me that she did not intend to dance." 
 
 " Colonel, I will bet a hundred napoleons to your gray 
 horse that she will dance with me this evening." 
 
 "Done! " said the colonel, putting his hand in the cox- 
 comb's. " Meanwhile I am going to look for Soulanges; he 
 perhaps knows the lady, as she seems interested in him." 
 
 " You have lost, my good fellow," cried Martial, laughing. 
 " My eyes have met hers, and I know what they mean. My 
 dear friend, you owe me no grudge for dancing with her after 
 she has refused you ? " 
 
 " No, no. Those who laugh last, laugh longest. But I am 
 an honest gambler and a generous enemy, Martial, and I warn 
 you, she is fond of diamonds." 
 
 With these words the friends parted ; General Montcornet 
 made his way to the card-room, where he saw the Comte de 
 Soulancres sitting at a bouilloite table. Though there was no 
 friendship between the two soldiers, beyond the superficial 
 comradeship arising from the perils of war and the duties of 
 the service, the colonel of cuirassiers was painfully struck by
 
 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 339 
 
 seeing the colonel of artillery, whom he knew to be a prudent 
 man, playing at a game which might bring him to ruin. The 
 heaps of gold and notes piled on the fateful cards showed the 
 frenzy of play. A circle of silent men stood round the players 
 at the table. Now and then a few words were spoken— pass 
 play, I stop, a thousand louts, taken — but, looking at the five 
 motionless men, it seemed as though they talked only with 
 their eyes. As the colonel, alarmed by Soulanges' pallor, 
 went up to him, the Count was winning. Field-marshal the 
 Due dTsemberg, Keller, and a famous banker rose from the 
 table completely cleaned out of considerable sums. Soulanges 
 looked gloomier than ever as he swept up a quantity of gold 
 and notes ; he did not even count it ; his lips curled with 
 bitter scorn, he seemed to defy fortune rather than be grateful 
 for her favors. 
 
 "Courage," said the colonel. "Courage, Soulanges!" 
 Then, believing he would do him a service by dragging him 
 from play, he added : " Come with me. I have some good 
 news for you, but on one condition." 
 
 "What is that?" asked Soulanges. 
 
 " That you will answer a question I will ask you." 
 
 The Comte de Soulanges rose abruptly, placing his win- 
 nings with reckless indifference in his handkerchief, which he 
 had been twisting with convulsive nervousness, and his expres- 
 sion was so savage that none of the players took exception to 
 his walking off with their money. Indeed, every face seemed 
 to dilate with relief when his morose and crabbed countenance 
 was no longer to be seen under the circle of light which a 
 shaded lamp casts on a gaming table. 
 
 " Those fiends of soldiers are always as thick as thieves at 
 a fair!" said a diplomat who had been looking on, as he 
 took Soulanges' place. One single pallid and fatigued face 
 turned to the new-comer, and said with a glance that flashed 
 and died out like the sparkle of a diamond : " When we say 
 military we do not mean civil, Monsieur le Ministre."
 
 340 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 
 
 "My dear fellow," said Montcornet to Soulanges, leading 
 him into a corner, " the Emperor spoke warmly in your praise 
 this morning and your promotion to be field-marshal is a cer- 
 tainty." 
 
 " The Master does not love the artillery." 
 
 " No, but he adores the nobility, and you are an aristocrat. 
 The Master said," added Montcornet, " that the men who 
 had married in Paris during the campaign were not therefore 
 to be considered in disgrace. Well, then ? " 
 
 The Comte de Soulanges looked as if he understood noth- 
 ing of this speech. 
 
 "And now I hope," the colonel went on, "that you will 
 tell me if you know a charming little woman who is sitting 
 under a huge candelabrum " 
 
 At these words the Count's face lighted up; he violently 
 seized the colonel's hand : " My dear colonel," said he, in a 
 perceptibly altered voice, " if any man but you had asked me 
 such a question, I would have cracked his skull with this mass 
 of gold. Leave me, I entreat you. I feel more like blowing 
 
 out my brains this evening, I assure you, than I hate 
 
 everything I see. And, in fact, I am going. This gaiety, 
 this music, these stupid faces, all laughing, are killing me ! ' 
 
 " My poor friend ! " replied Montcornet gently, and giv- 
 ing the Count's hand a friendly pressure, " you are too vehe- 
 ment. What would you say if I told you that Martial is 
 thinking so little of Madame de Vaudremont that he is quite 
 smitten with that little lady?" 
 
 "If he says a word to her," cried Soulanges, stammering 
 with rage, " I will thrash him as flat as his own portfolio, 
 even if the coxcomb were in the Emperor's lap ! " 
 
 And he sank quite overcome on an easy-chair to which 
 Montcornet had led him. The colonel slowly went away, for 
 he perceived that Soulanges was in a state of fury far too 
 violent for the pleasantries or the attentions of superficial 
 friendship to soothe him.
 
 PEACE EV THE HOUSE. 341 
 
 When Montcornet returned to the ball-room, Madame de 
 Vaudremont was the first person on whom his eyes fell, and 
 he observed on her face, usually so calm, some symptoms of 
 ill-disguised agitation. A chair was vacant near hers and the 
 colonel seated himself. 
 
 " I dare wager something has vexed you? " said he. 
 
 " A mere trifle, colonel. I want to be gone, for I have 
 promised to go to a ball at the Grand Duchess of Berg's, and 
 I must look in first at the Princesse de Wagram's. Monsieur 
 de la Roche-Hugon, who knows this, is amusing himself by 
 flirting with the dowagers." 
 
 "That is not the whole secret of your disturbance, and I 
 will bet a hundred louis that you will remain here the whole 
 evening." 
 
 " Impertinent man ! " 
 
 "Then I have hit the truth ? " 
 
 " Well, tell me, what am I thinking of?" said the Coun- 
 tess, tapping the colonel's fingers with her fan. " I might 
 even reward you if you guess rightly." 
 
 " I will not accept the challenge ; I have too much the 
 advantage of you." 
 
 "You are presumptuous." 
 
 " You are afraid of seeing Martial at the feet " 
 
 " Of whom? " cried the Countess, affecting surprise. 
 
 "Of that candelabrum," replied the colonel, glancing at 
 the fair stranger, and then looking at the Countess with 
 embarrassing scrutiny. 
 
 "You have guessed it," replied the coquette, hiding her 
 face behind her fan, which she began to play with. " Old 
 Madame de Lansac, who is, you know, as malicious as an old 
 monkey," she went on, after a pause, " has just told me that 
 Monsieur de la Roche-Hugon is running into danger by flirt- 
 ing with that stranger, who sits here this evening like a skel- 
 eton at a feast. I would rather see a death's-head than that 
 face, so cruelly beautiful, and as pale as a ghost. She is my
 
 312 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 
 
 evil genius. Madame de Lansac," she added, after a flash 
 and gesture of annoyance, " who only goes to a ball to watch 
 everything while pretending to sleep, has made me miserably 
 anxious. Martial shall pay dearly for playing me such a 
 trick. Urge him, meanwhile, since he is your friend, not to 
 make me so unhappy." 
 
 " I have just been with a man who promises to blow his 
 brains out, and nothing less, if he speaks to that little lady. 
 And he is the man, madame, to keep his word. But then I 
 know Martial ; such threats are to him an encouragement. 
 And, besides, we have wagered " Here the colonel low- 
 ered his voice. 
 
 " Can it be true? " said the Countess. 
 
 " On my word of honor." 
 
 "Thank you, my dear colonel," replied Madame de 
 Vaudremont, with a glance full of invitation. 
 
 " Will you do me the honor of dancing with me? " asked 
 the colonel, meaningly. 
 
 " Yes ; but the next quadrille. During this one I want to 
 find out what will come of this little intrigue, and to ascertain 
 who the little blue lady may be ; she looks intelligent." 
 
 The colonel, understanding that Madame de Vaudremont 
 wished to be alone, retired, well content to have begun his 
 attack so well. 
 
 At most entertainments women are to be met who are 
 there, like Madame de Lansac, as old sailors gather on the 
 seashore to watch younger mariners struggling with the 
 tempest. At this moment Madame de Lansac, who seemed 
 to be interested in the personages of this drama, could easily 
 guess the agitation which the Countess was going through. 
 The lady might fan herself gracefully, smile on the young 
 men who bowed to her, and bring into play all the arts by 
 which a woman hides her emotion — the dowager, one of the 
 most clear-sighted and mischief-loving duchesses bequeathed
 
 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 343 
 
 by the eighteenth century to the nineteenth, could read her 
 heart and mind through it all. 
 
 The old lady seemed to detect the slightest movement that 
 revealed the impressions of the soul. The imperceptible 
 frown that furrowed that calm, pure forehead, the faintest 
 quiver of the cheeks, the curve of the eyebrows, the least curl 
 of the lips, whose living coral could conceal nothing from 
 her, all these were to the Duchess like the print of a book. 
 From the depths of her large arm-chair, completely filled by 
 the flow of her dress, the coquette of the past, while talking 
 to a diplomat who had sought her out to hear the anecdotes 
 she told so cleverly, was admiring herself in the younger 
 coquette ; she felt kindly to her, seeing how bravely she dis- 
 guised her annoyance and grief of heart. Madame de Vaudre- 
 mont, in fact, felt as much sorrow as she feigned cheerfulness; 
 she had believed that she had found in Martial a man of 
 talent on whose support she could count for adorning her life 
 with all the enchantment of power ; and at this moment she 
 perceived her mistake, as injurious to her reputation as to her 
 good opinion of herself. In her, as in other women of that 
 time, the suddenness of their passions increased their vehe- 
 mence. Souls which love much and love often suffer no less 
 than those which burn themselves out in one affection. Her 
 liking for Martial was but of yesterday, it is true, but the 
 least experienced surgeon knows that the pain caused by the 
 amputation of a healthy limb is more acute than the removal 
 of a diseased one. There was a future before Madame de 
 Vaudremont's passion for Martial, while her previous love had 
 been hopeless, and poisoned by Soulanges' remorse. 
 
 The old Duchess, who was watching for an opportunity of 
 speaking to the Countess, hastened to dismiss her ambassador ; 
 for in comparison with a lovers' quarrel every interest pales, 
 even with an old woman. To engage battle, Madame de 
 Lansac shot at the younger lady a sardonic glance which made 
 the Countess fear lest her fate was in the dowager's hands.
 
 314 PEACE TN THE HOUSE. 
 
 There are looks between woman and woman which are like 
 the torches brought on at the climax of a tragedy. No one 
 who had not known the Duchess could appreciate the terror 
 which the expression of her countenance inspired in the 
 Countess. 
 
 Madame de Lansac was tall, and her features led people to 
 say, "That must have been a handsome women!" She 
 coated her cheeks so thickly with rouge that the wrinkles were 
 scarcely visible ; but her eyes, far from gaining a factitious 
 brilliancy from this strong carmine, looked all the more dim. 
 She wore a vast quantity of diamonds, and dressed with suffi- 
 cient taste not to make herself ridiculous. Her sharp nose 
 promised epigram. A well-fitted set of teeth preserved a smile 
 of such irony as recalled that of Voltaire. At the same time, 
 the exquisite politeness of her manner so effectually softened 
 the mischievous twist in her mind, that it was impossible to 
 accuse her of spitefulness. 
 
 The old woman's eyes lighted up, and a triumphant glance, 
 seconded by a smile, which said, " I promised you as much ! " 
 shot across the room, and brought a blush of hope to the pale 
 cheeks of the young creature languishing under the great chan- 
 delier. This alliance between Madame de Lansac and the 
 stranger could not escape the practiced eye of the Comtesse de 
 Vaudremont, who scented a mystery, and was determined to 
 penetrate it. 
 
 At this instant the Baron de la Roche-Hugon, after question- 
 ing all the dowagers without success as to the blue lady's name, 
 applied in despair to the Comtesse de Gondreville, from whom 
 he received only this unsatisfactory reply. "A lady whom the 
 ' ancient ' Duchesse de Lansac introduced to me." 
 
 Turning by chance towards the armchair occupied by the 
 old lady, the lawyer intercepted the glance of intelligence she 
 sent to the stranger ; and although he had for some time been 
 on bad terms with her, he determined to speak to her. The 
 "ancient " Duchess, seeing the jaunty Baron prowling round
 
 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 345 
 
 her chair, smiled with sardonic irony, and looked at Madame 
 de Vaudremont with an expression that made Montcornet 
 laugh. 
 
 " If the old witch affects to be friendly," thought the Baron, 
 " she is certainly going to play me some spiteful trick. Ma- 
 dame," he said, " you have, I am told, undertaken the charge 
 of a very precious treasure." 
 
 "Do you take me for a dragon ? " retorted the old lady. 
 " But of whom are you speaking?" she added, with a sweet- 
 ness which revived Martial's hopes. 
 
 " Of that little lady, unknown to all, whom the jealousy of 
 all these coquettes has imprisoned in that corner. You, no 
 doubt, know her family?" 
 
 "Yes," said the Duchess. " But what concern have you 
 with a provincial heiress, married some time since, a woman 
 of good birth whom none of you know, you men ; she goes 
 nowhere? " 
 
 " Why does she not dance, she is such a pretty creature ? 
 May we conclude a treaty of peace? If you will vouchsafe to 
 tell me all I want to know, I promise you that a petition for 
 the restitution of the woods of Navarreins by the commissioners 
 of crown lands shall be strongly urged on the Emperor." 
 
 The younger branch of the house of Navarreins bears quar- 
 terly with the arms of Navarreins those of Lansac, namely, 
 azure and argent party per pale raguly, between six spear-heads 
 in pale, and the old lady's liaison with Louis XV. had earned 
 her husband the title of duke by royal patent. Now, as the 
 Navarreins had not yet resettled in France, it was sheer trick- 
 ery that the young lawyer thus proposed to the old lady by 
 suggesting to her that she should petition for an estate belong- 
 ing to the elder branch of the family. 
 
 "Monsieur," said the old woman with deceptive gravity, 
 " bring the Comtesse de Vaudremont across to me. I promise 
 you that I will reveal to her the mystery of the interesting 
 unknown. You see, every man in the room has reached as
 
 346 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 
 
 great a curiosity as your own. All eyes are involuntarily 
 turned towards the corner where my protegee has so modestly 
 placed herself; she is reaping all the homage the women 
 wished to deprive her of. Happy the man she chooses for 
 her partner ! " She interrupted herself, fixing her eyes on 
 Madame de Vaudremont with one of those looks which plainly 
 say, " We are talking of you." Then she added, " I imagine 
 you would rather learn the stranger's name from the lips of 
 your handsome Countess than from mine." 
 
 There was such a marked defiance in the Duchess' attitude 
 that Madame de Vaudremont arose, came up to her, and took 
 the chair Martial placed for her ; then without noticing him 
 she said, " I can guess, madame, that you are talking of me; 
 but I admit my want of perspicacity ; I do not know whether 
 it is for good or evil." 
 
 Madame de Lansac pressed the young woman's pretty hand 
 in her own dry and wrinkled fingers, and answered in a low, 
 compassionate tone, " Poor child ! " 
 
 The women looked at each other. Madame de Vaudre- 
 mont understood that Martial was in the way, and dismissed 
 him, saying with an imperious expression, " Leave us." 
 
 The Baron, ill pleased at seeing the Countess under the 
 spell of the dangerous sibyl who had drawn her to her side, 
 gave one of those looks which a man can give — potent over 
 a blinded heart, but simply ridiculous in the eyes of a woman 
 who is beginning to criticise the man who has attracted her. 
 
 " Do you think you can play the Emperor? " said Madame 
 de Vaudremont, turning three-quarters of her face to fix an 
 ironical sidelong gaze on the lawyer. 
 
 Martial was too much a man of the world, and had too 
 much wit and acumen, to risk breaking with a woman who 
 was in favor at Court, and whom the Emperor wished to see 
 married. He counted, too, on the jealousy he intended to 
 provoke in her as the surest means of discovering the secret 
 of her coolness, and withdrew all the more willingly, because
 
 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 347 
 
 at this moment a new quadrille was putting everybody in 
 motion. 
 
 With an air of making room for the dancing, the Baron 
 leaned back against the marble slab of a console, folded his 
 arms, and stood absorbed in watching the two ladies talking. 
 From time to time he followed the glances which both fre- 
 quently directed to the stranger. Then, comparing the 
 Countess with the new beauty, made so attractive by a touch 
 of mystery, the Baron fell a prey to the detestable self-interest 
 common to adventurous lady-killers; he hesitated between a 
 fortune within his grasp and the indulgence of his caprice. 
 The blaze of light gave such a strong relief to his anxious 
 and sullen face, against the hangings of white silk moreen 
 brushed by his black hair, that he might have been compared 
 to an evil genius. Even from a distance more than one ob- 
 server no doubt said to himself, as he noted the attitude of 
 the Baron, "There is another poor wretch who seems to be 
 enjoying himself! " 
 
 The colonel, meanwhile, with one shoulder leaning lightly 
 against the side-post of the doorway between the ball-room and 
 the card-room, could laugh undetected under his ample 
 mustache; it amused him to look on at the turmoil of the 
 dance ; he could see a hundred pretty heads turning about in 
 obedience to the figures ; he could read in some faces, as in 
 those of the Countess and his friend Martial, the secrets of 
 their agitation ; and then, looking around, he wondered what 
 connection there could be between the gloomy looks of the 
 Comte de Soulanges, still seated on the sofa, and the plaintive 
 expression of the fair unknown, on whose features the joys of 
 hope and the anguish of involuntary dread were alternately 
 legible. Montcornet stood like the king of the feast. In 
 this moving picture he saw a complete presentment of the 
 world, and he laughed at it as he found himself the object of 
 inviting smiles from a hundred beautiful and elegant women. 
 A colonel of the Imperial Guard, a position equal to that of
 
 348 PEACE LV THE HOUSE. 
 
 a brigadier-general, was, undoubtedly, one of the best matches 
 in the army. 
 
 It was now nearly midnight. The conversation, the gam- 
 bling, the dancing, the flirtations, interests, petty rivalries, 
 and scheming had all reached the pitch of ardor which 
 makes a young man exclaim involuntarily, " A fine ball ! " 
 
 "My sweet little angel," said Madame de Lansac to the 
 Countess, " you are now at an age when in my day I made 
 many mistakes. Seeing you just now enduring a thousand 
 deaths, it occurred to me that I might give you some chari- 
 table advice. To go wrong at two-and-twenty means spoiling 
 your future ; is it not tearing the gown you must wear ? My 
 dear, it is not until much later that we learn to go about in 
 it without crumpling it. Go on, sweetheart, making clever 
 enemies, and friends who have no sense of conduct, and you 
 will see what a pleasant life you will some day be leading ! " 
 
 " Oh, madame, it is very hard for a woman to be happy, 
 do you not think? " the Countess eagerly exclaimed. 
 
 " My child, at your age you must learn to choose between 
 pleasure and happiness. You want to marry Martial, who is 
 not fool enough to make a good husband, nor passionate 
 enough to remain a lover. He is in debt, my dear ; he is 
 the man to run through your fortune ; still, that would be 
 nothing if he could make you happy. Do you not see how 
 aged he is? The man must have been often ill; he is mak- 
 ing the most of what is left him. In three years he will be a 
 wreck. Then he will be ambitious; perhaps he may succeed. 
 I do not think so. What is he? A man of intrigue, who 
 may have the business faculty to perfection and be able to 
 gossip agreeably ; but he is too presumptuous to have any 
 sterling merit ; he will not go far. Desides — only look at him. 
 Is it not written on his brow that, at this very moment, what 
 he sees in you is not a young and pretty woman, but the two 
 million francs you possess ? He does not love you, my dear ; 
 he is reckoning you up as if you were an investment. If you
 
 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. .349 
 
 are bent on marrying, find an older man who has an assured 
 position and is half-way on his career. A widow's marriage 
 ought not to be a trivial love affair. Is a mouse to be caught 
 a second time in the same trap ? A new alliance ought now 
 to be a good speculation on your part, and in marrying again 
 you ought at least to have a hope of being some day addressed 
 as Madame la Marechale." 
 
 As she spoke both women naturally fixed their eyes on Col- 
 onel Montcornet's handsome face. 
 
 " If you would rather play the delicate part of a flirt and 
 not marry again," the Duchess went on, with blunt good- 
 nature; " well ! my poor child, you, better than any woman, 
 will know how to raise the storm-clouds and disperse them 
 again. But, I beseech you, never make it your pleasure to 
 disturb the peace of families, to destroy unions, and ruin the 
 happiness of happy wives. I, my dear, have played that peril- 
 ous game. Dear heaven ! for a triumph of vanity some poor 
 virtuous soul is murdered — for there really are virtuous women, 
 child — and we may make ourselves mortally hated. I learned, 
 a little too late, that, as the Due d'Albe once said, one salmon 
 is worth a thousand frogs ! A genuine affection c ertainly 
 brings a thousand times more happiness than the transient 
 passions we may inspire. Well, I came here on purpose to 
 preach to you ; yes, you are the cause of my appearance in 
 this house, which stinks of the lower class. Have I not just 
 seen actors here? Formerly, my dear, we received them in 
 our boudoir ; but in the drawing-room — never ! Why do you 
 look at me with so much amazement ? Listen to me. If you 
 want to play with men, do not try to wring the hearts of 
 any but those whose life is not yet settled, who have no 
 duties to fulfill ; the others do not forgive us for the errors 
 that have made them happy. Profit by this maxim, founded 
 on my long experience. That luckless Soulanges, for in- 
 stance, whose head you have turned, whom you have intoxi- 
 cated for these fifteen months past, God knows how ! Do
 
 350 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 
 
 you know at what you have struck ? At his whole life. He has 
 been married these two years ; he is worshiped by a charm- 
 ing wife, whom he loves, but neglects ; she lives in tears 
 and embittered silence. Soulanges has had hours of remorse 
 more terrible than his pleasure has been sweet. And you, 
 you artful little thing, have deserted him. Well, come and 
 see your work." 
 
 The old lady took Madame de Vaudremont's hand, and 
 they rose. 
 
 "There," said Madame de Lansac, and her eyes showed 
 her the stranger sitting pale and tremulous under the glare of 
 the candles, "that is my grandniece, the Comtesse de Sou- 
 langes ; to-day she yielded at last to my persuasion and con- 
 sented to leave the sorrowful room, where the sight of her 
 child gives her but little consolation. You see her? You 
 think her charming? Then imagine, dear Beauty, what she 
 must have been when happiness and love shed their glory on 
 that face now blighted." 
 
 The Countess looked away in silence, and seemed lost in 
 sad reflections. 
 
 The Duchess led her to the door into the card-room ; then, 
 after looking around the room as if in search of some one — 
 " And there is Soulanges ! " she said in deep tones. 
 
 The Countess shuddered as she saw, in the least brilliantly 
 lighted corner, the pale, set face of Soulanges stretched in an 
 easy-chair. The indifference of his attitude and the rigidity 
 of his brow betrayed his suffering. The players passed him 
 to and fro, without paying any more attention to him than if 
 he had been dead. The picture of the wife in tears, and the 
 dejected, morose husband, separated in the midst of this fes- 
 tivity like the two halves of a tree blasted by lightning, had 
 perhaps a prophetic significance for the Countess. She 
 dreaded lest she here saw an image of the revenges the future 
 might have in store for her. Her heart was not yet so dried 
 up that feeling and generosity were entirely excluded, and she
 
 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 351 
 
 pressed the Duchess' hand, while thanking her by one of 
 those smile* winch have a certain childlike grace. 
 
 " My dear child," the old lady said in her ear, "remember 
 henceforth that we are just as capable of repelling a man's 
 attentions as of attracting them." 
 
 " She is yours if you are not a simpleton." These words 
 were whispered into Colonel Montcornet's ear by Madame de 
 Lansac, while the handsome Countess was still absorbed in 
 compassion at the sight of Soulanges, for she still loved him 
 truly enough to wish to restore him to happiness, and was 
 promising herself in her own mind that she would exert the 
 irresistible power her charms still had over him to make him 
 return to his wife. 
 
 " Oh ! I will talk to him ! " said she to Madame de Lansac. 
 
 " Do nothing of the kind, my dear ! " cried the old lady, 
 as she went back to her armchair. " Choose a good husband, 
 and shut your door to my nephew. Believe me, my child, a 
 wife cannot accept her husband's heart as the gift of another 
 woman ; she is a hundred times happier in the belief that she 
 has re-conquered it. By bringing my niece here I believe I 
 have given her an excellent chance of regaining her husband's 
 affection. All the assistance I need or ask of you is to play 
 the colonel." She pointed to the Baron's friend, and the 
 Countess smiled. 
 
 " Well, madame, do you at last know the name of the un- 
 known ? " asked Martial, with an air of pique, to the Countess 
 when he saw her alone. 
 
 "Yes," said Madame de Vaudremont, looking him in the 
 face. 
 
 Her features expressed as much roguery as fun. The smile 
 which gave life to her lips and cheeks, the liquid brightness 
 of her eyes, were like the will-o'-the-wisp which leads travelers 
 astray. Martial, who believed that she still loved him, assumed 
 the coquetting graces in which a man is so ready to lull him-
 
 352 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 
 
 self in the presence of the woman he loves. He said with a 
 fatuous air — 
 
 "And will you be annoyed with me if I seem to attach 
 great importance to your telling me that name?" 
 
 "Will you be annoyed with me," answered Madame de 
 Vaudremont, " if a remnant of affection prevents my telling 
 you ; and if I forbid you to make the smallest advances to 
 that young lady ? It would be at the risk of your life per- 
 haps." 
 
 "To lose your good graces, madame, would be worse than 
 to lose my life." 
 
 " Martial," said the Countess severely, " she is Madame de 
 Soulanges. Her husband would blow your brains out — if, 
 indeed, you have any " 
 
 "Ha, ha!" laughed the coxcomb. "What! the colonel 
 can leave the man in peace who has robbed him of your love, 
 and then would fight for his wife ! What a subversion of 
 principles ! I beg of you to allow me to dance with the little 
 lady. You will then be able to judge how little love that 
 heart of ice could feel for you ; for, if the colonel disapproves 
 of my dancing with his wife after allowing me to " 
 
 " But she loves her husband." 
 
 " A still further obstacle that I shall have the pleasure of 
 conquering." 
 
 "But she is married." 
 
 " A whimsical objection ! " 
 
 " Ah ! " said the Countess, with a bitter smile, " you punish 
 us alike for our faults and our repentance ! " 
 
 "Do not be angry !" exclaimed Martial eagerly. "Oh, 
 forgive me, I beseech you. There, I will think no more of 
 Madame de Soulanges." 
 
 " You deserve that I should send you to her," was the reply 
 of the Countess. 
 
 "I am off then," said the Baron, laughing, "and I shall 
 return more devoted to you than ever. You will see that the
 
 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 353 
 
 prettiest woman in the world cannot capture the heart that is 
 yours." 
 
 " That is to say, that you want to win Colonel Montcornet's 
 horse?" 
 
 "Ah ! Traitor! " said he, threatening his friend with his 
 finger. The colonel smiled and joined them ; the Baron gave 
 him the seat near the Countess, saying to her with a sardonic 
 accent — 
 
 "Here, madame, is a man who boasted that he could win 
 your good graces in one evening." 
 
 He went away, thinking himself clever to have piqued the 
 Countess' pride and done Montcornet an ill turn ; but, in 
 spite of his habitual keenness, he had not appreciated the irony 
 underlying Madame de Vaudremont's speech and did not per- 
 ceive that she had come as far to meet his friend as his friend 
 towards her, though both were unconscious of it. 
 
 At the moment when the lawyer went fluttering up to the 
 candelabrum by which Madame de Soulanges sat, pale, timid, 
 and apparently alive only in her eyes, her husband came to the 
 door of the ball-room, his eyes flashing with anger. The old 
 Duchess, watchful of everything, flew to her nephew, begged 
 him to give her his arm and find her carriage, affecting to be 
 mortally bored, and hoping thus to prevent a vexatious out- 
 break. Before going she fired a singular glance of intelli- 
 gence at her niece, indicating the enterprising knight who was 
 about to address her, and this signal seemed to say, "There 
 he is, avenge yourself! " 
 
 Madame de Vaudremont caught these looks of the aunt and 
 niece ; a sudden light dawned on her mind ; she was fright- 
 ened lest she was the dupe of this old woman, so cunning and 
 so practiced in intrigue. 
 
 " That perfidious Duchess," said she to herself, " has per- 
 haps been amusing herself by preaching morality to me while 
 playing me some spiteful trick of her own." 
 
 At this thought Madame de Vaudremont's pride was per- 
 23
 
 354 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 
 
 haps more roused than her curiosity to disentangle the thread 
 of this intrigue. In the absorption of mind to which she was 
 a prey she was no longer mistress of herself. The colonel, 
 interpreting to his own advantage the embarrassment evident 
 in the Countess' manner and speech, became more ardent and 
 pressing. The old blase diplomats, amusing themselves by 
 watching the play of faces, had never found so many intrigues 
 at once to watch or guess at. The passions agitating the two 
 couples were to be seen with variations at every step in the 
 crowded rooms, and reflected with different shades in other 
 countenances. The spectacle of so many vivid passions, of 
 all these lovers' quarrels, these pleasing revenges, these cruel 
 favors, these flaming glances, of all this ardent life diffused 
 around them, only made them feel their impotence more 
 keenly. 
 
 At last the Baron had found a seat by Madame de Soulan- 
 ges. His eyes stole a long look at her neck, as fresh as dew 
 and as fragrant as field flowers. He admired close at hand 
 the beauty which had amazed him from afar. He could see 
 a small, well-shod foot, and measure with his eye a slender 
 and graceful shape. At that time women wore their sash tied 
 close under the bosom, in imitation of Greek statues, a pitiless 
 fashion for those whose bust was faulty. As he cast furtive 
 glances at the Countess' figure, Martial was enchanted with 
 its perfection. 
 
 " You have not danced once this evening, madame," said 
 he in soft and flattering tones. "Not, I should suppose, for 
 lack of a partner? " 
 
 "I never go to parties; I am quite unknown," replied 
 Madame de Soulanges coldly, not having understood the look 
 by which her aunt had just conveyed to her that she was to 
 attract the Baron. 
 
 Martial, to give himself countenance, twisted the diamond 
 he wore on his left hand ; the rainbow fires of the gem seemed 
 to flash a sudden light on the young Countess' mind ; she
 
 PEACE IX THE HOUSE. 355 
 
 blushed and looked at the Baron with an undefinable expres- 
 sion. 
 
 "Do you like dancing?" asked the Provencal, to reopen 
 the conversation. 
 
 "Yes, very much, monsieur." 
 
 At this strange reply their eyes met. The young man, 
 surprised by the earnest accent, which aroused a vague hope 
 in his heart, had suddenly questioned the lady's eyes. 
 
 " Then, madame, am I not overbold in offering myself to 
 be your partner for the next quadrille ? " 
 
 Artless confusion colored the Countess' white cheeks. 
 
 " But, monsieur, I have already refused one partner — a 
 military man " 
 
 " Was it that tall cavalry colonel whom you see over there?" 
 
 " Precisely so." 
 
 "Oh! he is a friend of mine; feel no alarm. Will you 
 grant me the favor I dare hope for?" 
 
 " Yes, monsieur." 
 
 Her tone betrayed an emotion so new and so deep that the 
 lawyer's world-worn soul was touched. He was overcome by 
 shvness like a school-bov's, lost his confidence and his south- 
 ern brain caught fire ; he tried to talk, but his phrases struck 
 him as graceless in comparison with Madame de Soulanges' 
 bright and subtle replies. It was lucky for him that the quad- 
 rille was forming. Standing by his beautiful partner, he felt 
 more at ease. To many men dancing is a phase of being ; 
 they think that they can more powerfully influence the heart 
 of woman by displaying the graces of their bodies than by 
 their intellect. Martial wished, no doubt, at this moment to 
 put forth all his most effective seductions, to judge by the pre- 
 tentiousness of his movements and gestures. 
 
 He led his conquest to the quadrille in which the most 
 brilliant women in the room made it a point of chimerical 
 importance to dance in preference to any other. While the 
 orchestra played the introductory bars to the first figure, the
 
 356 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 
 
 Baron felt it an incredible gratification to his pride to per- 
 ceive, as he reviewed the ladies forming the lines of that 
 formidable square, that Madame de Soulanges' dress might 
 challenge that even of Madame de Vaudremont, who, by a 
 chance not perhaps unsought, was standing with Montcornet 
 vis-a-vis to himself and the lady in blue. All eyes were for a 
 moment turned on Madame de Soulanges ; a flattering mur- 
 mur showed that she was the subject of every man's conversa- 
 tion with his partner. Looks of admiration and envy centred 
 on her, with so much eagerness that the young creature, 
 abashed by a triumph she seemed to disclaim, modestly 
 looked down, blushed, and was all the more charming. 
 When she raised her white eyelids it was to look at her rav- 
 ished partner as though she wished to transfer the glory of 
 this admiration to him, and to say that she cared more for his 
 than for all the rest. She threw her innocence into her 
 vanity ; or rather she seemed to give herself up to the guile- 
 less admiration which is the beginning of love, with the good 
 faith found only in youthful hearts. As she danced, the 
 lookers-on might easily believe that she displayed her grace 
 for Martial alone ; and though she was modest, and new to 
 the trickery of the ball-room, she knew as well as the most 
 accomplished coquette how to raise her eyes to his at the 
 right moment and drop their lids with assumed modesty. 
 
 When the movement of a new figure, invented by a dancer 
 named Trenis, and named after him, brought Martial face to 
 face with the colonel — "I have won your horse," said he, 
 laughing. 
 
 " Yes, but you have lost eighty thousand francs a year ! " 
 retorted Montcornet, glancing at Madame de Vaudremont. 
 
 " What do I care?" replied Martial. " Madame de Sou- 
 langes is worth millions ! " 
 
 At the end of the quadrille more than one whisper was 
 poured into more than one ear. The less pretty women made 
 moral speeches to their partners, commenting on the budding
 
 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 357 
 
 liaison between Martial and the Comtesse de Soulanges. The 
 handsomest wondered at her easy surrender. The men could 
 not understand such luck as the Baron's, not regarding him 
 as particularly fascinating. A few indulgent women said it 
 was not fair to judge the Countess too hastily ; young wives 
 would be in a very hapless plight if an expressive look or a 
 few graceful dancing steps were enough to compromise a 
 woman. 
 
 Martial alone knew the extent of his happiness. During 
 the last figure, when the ladies had to form the moulinet, his 
 fingers clasped those of the Countess, and he fancied that, 
 through the thin, perfumed kid of her gloves, the young wife's 
 grasp responded to his amorous appeal. 
 
 "Madame," said he, as the quadrille ended, "do not go 
 back to the odious corner where you have been burying your 
 face and your dress until now. Is admiration the only benefit 
 you can obtain from the jewels that adorn your white neck and 
 beautifully dressed hair? Come and take a turn through the 
 rooms to enjoy the scene and yourself." 
 
 Madame de Soulanges yielded to her seducer, who thought 
 she would be his all the more surely if he could only show 
 her off. Side by side they walked two or three times amid 
 the groups who crowded the rooms. The Comtesse de Sou- 
 langes, evidently uneasy, paused for an instant at each door 
 before entering, only doing so after stretching her neck to 
 look at all the men there. This alarm, which crowned the 
 Baron's satisfaction, did not seem to be removed till he said 
 to her, " Make yourself easy ; he is not here." 
 
 They thus made their way to an immense picture gallery in 
 a wing of the mansion, where their eyes could feast in antici- 
 pation on the splendid display of a collation prepared for three 
 hundred persons. As supper was about to begin, Martial led 
 the Countess to an oval boudoir looking on to the garden, 
 where the rarest flowers and a few shrubs made a scented 
 bower under bright blue hangings. The murmurs of the fes-
 
 358 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 
 
 tivity here died away. The Countess, at first startled, refused 
 firmly to follow the young man ; but, glancing in a mirror, she 
 no doubt assured herself that they could be seen, for she seated 
 herself on an ottoman with a fairly good grace. 
 
 " This room is charming," said she, admiring the sky-blue 
 hangings looped with pearls. 
 
 "All here is love and delight ! " said the Baron, with deep 
 emotion. 
 
 In the mysterious light which prevailed he looked at the 
 Countess, and detected on her gently agitated face an expres- 
 sion of uneasiness, modesty, and eagerness which enchanted 
 him. The young lady smiled, and this smile seemed to put 
 an end to the struggle of feeling surging in her heart ; in the 
 most insinuating way she took her adorer's left hand, and 
 drew from his finger the ring on which she had fixed her eyes. 
 
 " What a fine diamond ! " she exclaimed in the artless tone 
 of a young girl betraying the incitement of a first temptation. 
 
 Martial, troubled by the Countess' involuntary but intoxi- 
 cating touch, like a caress, as she drew off the ring, looked at 
 her with eyes as glittering as the gem. 
 
 "Wear it," he said, "in memory of this hour, and for the 
 love of " 
 
 She was looking at him with such rapture that he did not 
 end the sentence ; he kissed her hand. 
 
 "You give it to me?" she said, looking much astonished. 
 
 " I wish I had the whole world to offer you ! " 
 
 "You are not joking ? " she went on, in a voice husky with 
 too great satisfaction. 
 
 " Will you accept only my diamond? " 
 
 " You will never take it back ? " she insisted. 
 
 "Never." 
 
 She put the ring on her finger. Martial, confident of coming 
 happiness, was about to put his hand around her waist, but 
 she suddenly rose, and said in a clear voice, without any 
 agitation —
 
 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 359 
 
 "I accept the diamond, monsieur, with the less scruple 
 that it belongs to me." 
 
 The Baron was speechless. 
 
 " Monsieur de Soulanges took it lately from my dressing- 
 table, and told me he had lost it." 
 
 "You are mistaken, madame," said Martial, nettled. "It 
 was given me by Madame de Vaudremont." 
 
 " Precisely so," said she with a smile. " My husband bor- 
 rowed this ring of me, he gave it to her, she made it a present 
 to you ; my ring has made a little journey, that is all. This 
 ring will perhaps tell me all I do not know, and teach me 
 the secret of always pleasing. Monsieur," she went on, " if 
 it had not been my own, you may be sure I should not have 
 risked paying so dear for it ; for a young woman, it is said, is 
 in danger with you. But you see," and she touched a spring 
 within the ring, " here is M. de Soulanges' hair." 
 
 She fled into the crowded rooms so swiftly that it seemed 
 useless to try and follow her ; besides, Martial utterly con- 
 founded, was in no mood to carry the adventure further. 
 The Countess' laugh found an echo in the boudoir, where the 
 young coxcomb now perceived, between two shrubs, the col- 
 onel and Madame de Vaudremont, both laughing heartily. 
 
 " Will you have my horse, to ride after your prize ? " said 
 the colonel. 
 
 The Baron took the banter poured upon him by Madame 
 de Vaudremont and Montcornet with a good grace, which 
 secured their silence as to the events of the evening, when his 
 friend exchanged his charger for a rich and pretty young wife. 
 
 As the Comtesse de Soulanges drove across Paris from the 
 Chaussee d'Antin to the Faubourg Saint-Germain, where she 
 lived, her soul was a prey to many alarms. Before leaving 
 the Hotel Gondreville she went through all the rooms, but 
 found neither her aunt nor her husband, who had gone away 
 without her. Frightful suspicions then tortured her ingenu-
 
 2(30 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. 
 
 ous mind. A silent witness of her husband's torments since 
 the day when Madame de Vaudremont had chained him to 
 her car, she had confidently hoped that repentance would ere 
 long restore her husband to her. It was with unspeakable 
 repugnance that she had consented to the scheme plotted by 
 her aunt, Madame de Lansac, and at this moment she feared 
 she had made a mistake. 
 
 The evening's experience had saddened her innocent soul. 
 Alarmed at first by the Count's look of suffering and dejec- 
 tion, she had become more so on seeing her rival's beauty, 
 and the corruption of society had gripped her heart. As she 
 crossed the Pont Royal she threw away the desecrated hair 
 at the back of the diamond, given to her once as a token of the 
 purest affection. She wept as she remembered the bitter 
 grief to which she had so long been a victim, and shuddered 
 more than once as she reflected that the duty of a woman, 
 who wishes for peace in her home, compels her to bury suffer- 
 ings so keen as hers at the bottom of her heart, and without a 
 complaint. 
 
 "Alas! " thought she, "what can women do when they 
 do not love? What is the font of their indulgence? I can- 
 not believe that, as my aunt tells me, reason is all-sufficient 
 to maintain them in such devotion." 
 
 She was still sighing when her manservant let down the 
 handsome carriage-step, from which she flew into the hall of 
 her house. She rushed precipitately upstairs, and when she 
 reached her room was startled by seeing her husband sitting 
 by the fire. 
 
 " How long is it, my dear, since you have gone to balls 
 without telling me beforehand?" he asked in a broken voice. 
 " You must know that a woman is always out of place without 
 her husband. You compromised yourself strangely by re- 
 maining in the dark corner where vou had ensconced your- 
 self." 
 
 "Oh, my dear, good Leon," said she in a coaxing tone.
 
 PEACE IN THE HOUSE. S61 
 
 " I could not resist the happiness of seeing you without your 
 seeing me. My aunt took me to that ball, and I was very 
 happy there ! " 
 
 This speech disarmed the Count's looks of their assumed 
 severity, for he had been blaming himself while dreading his 
 wife's return, no doubt fully informed at the ball of an in- 
 fidelity he had hoped to hide from her ; and, as is the way 
 of lovers conscious of their guilt, he tried, by being the first 
 to find fault, to escape her just anger. Happy in seeing her 
 husband smile, and in finding him at this hour in a room 
 whither of late he had come more rarely, the Countess looked 
 at him so tenderly that she blushed and cast down her eyes. 
 Her clemency enraptured Soulanges all the more because 
 this scene followed on the misery he had endured at the ball. 
 He seized his wife's hand and kissed it gratefully. Is not 
 gratitude often a part of love ? 
 
 " Hortense, what is that on your finger that has hurt my 
 lip so much?" asked he, laughing. 
 
 " It is my diamond ring which you said you had lost, and 
 which I have found." 
 
 General Montcornet did not marry Madame de Vaudre- 
 mont, in spite of the mutual understanding in which they had 
 lived for a few minutes, for she was one of the victims of the 
 terrible fire which sealed the fame of the ball given by the 
 Austrian ambassador on the occasion of Napoleon's marriage 
 with the daughter of Emperor Joseph II. 
 
 July, 1829. 
 
 ^SL^
 
 LA GRENADIERE. 
 
 Translated by Ellen Marriage. 
 
 To D. W. 
 
 La Grenadiere is a little house on the right bank of the 
 Loire as you go down stream, about a mile below the bridge 
 of Tours. At this point the river, broad as a lake, and cov- 
 ered with scattered green islands, flows between two lines 
 of cliff, where country houses built uniformly of white stone 
 stand among their gardens and vineyards. The finest fruit in 
 the world ripens there with a southern exposure. The patient 
 toil of many generations has cut terraces in the cliff, so that 
 the face of the rock reflects the rays of the sun, and the pro- 
 duce of hot climates may be grown out of doors in an artifi- 
 cially high temperature. 
 
 A church spire, rising out of one of the shallower dips in 
 the line of cliff, marks the little village of Saint-Cyr, to which 
 the scattered houses all belong. And yet a little further the 
 Choisille flows into the Loire, through a fertile valley cut in 
 the long, low downs. 
 
 La Grenadiere itself, half-way up the hillside and about a 
 hundred paces from the church, is one of those old-fashioned 
 houses dating back some two or three hundred years, which 
 you find in every picturesque spot in Touraine. A fissure in 
 the rock affords convenient space for a flight of steps descend- 
 ing gradually to the "dike " — the local name for the embank- 
 ment made at the foot of the cliffs to keep the Loire in its 
 bed and serve as a causeway for the high-road from Paris to 
 Nantes. At the top of the steps a gate opens upon a narrow 
 stony footpath between two terraces, for here the soil is 
 banked up, and walls are built to prevent landslips. These 
 (362)
 
 LA GRENADIERE. 36y 
 
 earthworks, as it were, are crowned with trellises and espa- 
 liers, so that the steep path that lies at the foot of the upper 
 wall is almost hidden by the trees that grow on the top of the 
 lower, upon which it lies. The view of the river widens out 
 before you at every step as you climb to the house. 
 
 At the end you come to a second gateway, a Gothic arch- 
 way covered with simple ornament, now crumbling into ruin 
 and overgrown with wild-flowers — moss and ivy, wall-flowers 
 and pellitory. Every stone-wall on the hillside is decked with 
 this ineradicable plant-life, which springs up along the cracks 
 between the courses of masonry, tracing out the lines afresh 
 with new wreaths for every time of year. 
 
 The worm-eaten gate gives into a little garden, a strip of 
 turf, a few trees, and a wilderness of flowers and rose bushes 
 — a garden won from the rock on the highest terrace of all, 
 with the dark, old balustrade along its edge. Opposite the 
 gateway a wooden summer-house stands against the neighbor- 
 ing wall ; the posts are covered with jessamine and honey- 
 suckle, vines and clematis. 
 
 The house itself stands in the middle of this highest garden, 
 above a vine-covered flight of steps, with an arched doorway 
 beneath that leads to vast cellars hollowed out in the rock. 
 All about the dwelling trellised vines and pomegranate trees 
 (the gretiadiers, which give the name to the little close) are 
 growing out in the open air. The front of the house consists 
 of two large windows on either side of a very rustic-looking 
 door, and three dormer windows in the roof — a slate roof 
 with two gables, prodigiously high-pitched in proportion to 
 the low ground floor. The house walls are washed with yellow 
 color ; and door, and first-floor shutters, and the Venetian 
 shutters of the attic windows, all are painted green. 
 
 Entering the house, you find yourself in a little lobby with 
 a crooked staircase straight in front of you. It is a crazy 
 wooden structure, the spiral balusters are brown with age, 
 and the steps themselves take a new angle at every turn.
 
 364 LA GRENADIERE. 
 
 The great, old-fashioned paneled dining-room, floored with 
 square, white tiles from Chateau-Regnault, is on your right ; 
 to the left is the sitting-room, equally large, but here the 
 walls are not paneled ; they have been covered instead with 
 a saffron-colored paper, bordered with green. The walnut- 
 wood rafters are left visible and the intervening spaces filled 
 with a kind of white plaster. 
 
 The first story consists of two large white-washed bedrooms 
 with stone chimney-pieces, less elaborately carved than those 
 in the rooms beneath. Every door and window is on the 
 south side of the house, save a single door to the north, con- 
 trived behind the staircase to give access to the vineyard. 
 Against the western wall stands a supplementary timber- 
 framed structure, all the woodwork exposed to the weather 
 being fledged with slates, so that the walls are checkered with 
 bluish lines. This shed (for it is little more) is the kitchen 
 of the establishment. You can pass from it into the house 
 without going outside ; but, nevertheless, it boasts an entrance 
 door of its own, and a short flight of steps that brings you to 
 a deep well, and a very rustic-looking pump, half-hidden by 
 water plants and savin bushes and tall grasses. The kitchen 
 is a modern addition, proving beyond doubt that La Grena- 
 diere was originally nothing but a simple vendangeoir — a 
 vintage-house belonging to townsfolk in Tours, from which 
 Saint-Cyr is separated by the vast river-bed of the Loire. 
 The owners only came over for the day for a picnic or at the 
 vintage-time, sending provisions across in the morning, and 
 scarcely ever spent the night there except during the grape 
 harvest ; but the English settled down on Touraine like a 
 cloud of locusts, and La Grenadiere must, of course, be com- 
 pleted if it was to find tenants. Luckily, however, this recent 
 appendage is hidden from sight by the two first trees of a 
 lime-tree avenue planted in a gulley below the vineyards. 
 
 There are only two acres of vineyard at most, the ground 
 rising at the back of the house so steeply that it is no very
 
 LA GRENADIRRE. 365 
 
 easy matter to scramble up among the vines. The slope, 
 covered with green trailing shoots, ends within about five feet 
 of the house-wall in a ditch-like passage, always damp and 
 cold and full of strong growing green things, fed by the 
 drainage of the highly cultivated ground above, for rainy 
 weather washes down the manure into the garden on the 
 terrace. 
 
 A vine-dresser's cottage also leans against the western gable, 
 and is in some sort a continuation of the kitchen. Stone 
 walls or espaliers surround the property, and all sorts of fruit 
 trees are planted among the vines ; in short, not an inch of 
 this precious soil is wasted. If by chance man overlooks 
 some dry cranny in the rocks, Nature puts in a fig tree, or 
 sows wild-flowers or strawberries in sheltered nooks among 
 the stones. 
 
 Nowhere else in all the world will you find a human dwell- 
 ing so humble and yet so imposing, so rich in fruits, and 
 fragrant scents, and wide views of country. Here is a minia- 
 ture Touraine in the heart of Touraine — all its flowers and fruits 
 and all the characteristic beauty of the land are fully repre- 
 sented. Here are grapes of every district, figs and peaches and 
 pears of every kind ; melons are grown out of doors as easily 
 as licorice plants, Spanish broom, Italian oleanders, and jes- 
 samines from the Azores. The Loire lies at your feet. You 
 look down from the terrace upon the ever-changing river 
 nearly two hundred feet below; and in the evening the 
 breeze brings a fresh scent of the sea, with the fragrance 
 of far-off flowers gathered upon its way. Some cloud wander- 
 ing in space, changing its color and form at every moment as 
 it crosses the pure blue of the sky, can alter every detail in 
 the widespread wonderful landscape in a thousand ways, 
 from every point of view. The eye embraces first of all the 
 south bank of the Loire, stretching away as far as Am- 
 boise, then Tours with its suburbs and buildings, and the 
 Plessis rising out of the fertile plain ; further away, between
 
 366 LA GREXADIERE. 
 
 Vouvray and Saint-Symphorien, you see a sort of crescent 
 of gray cliff full of sunny vineyards ; the only limits to your 
 view are the low, rich hills along the Cher, a bluish line of 
 horizon broken by many a chateau and the wooded masses of 
 many a park. Out to the west you lose yourself in the im- 
 mense river, where vessels come and go, spreading their white 
 sails to the winds which seldom fail them in the wide Loire 
 basin. A prince might build a summer palace at La Grena- 
 diere, but certainly it will always be the home of a poet's 
 desire, and the sweetest of retreats for two young lovers — 
 for this vintage-house, which belongs to a substantial burgess 
 of Tours, has charms for every imagination, for the humblest 
 and dullest as well as for the most impassioned and lofty. No 
 one can dwell there without feeling that happiness is in the 
 air, without a glimpse of all that is meant by a peaceful life 
 without care or ambition. There is that in the air and the 
 sound of the river that sets you dreaming ; the sands have a 
 language, and are joyous or dreary, golden or wan ; and the 
 owner of the vineyard may sit motionless amid perennial 
 flowers and tempting fruit, and feel all the stir of the world 
 about him. 
 
 If an Englishman takes the house for the summer, he is 
 asked a thousand francs for six months, the produce of the 
 vineyard not included. If the tenant wishes for the orchard 
 fruit, the rent is doubled ; for the vintage, it is doubled again. 
 What can La Grenadiere be worth, you wonder ; La Grena- 
 diere, with its stone staircase, its beaten path and triple ter- 
 race, its two acres of vineyard, its flowering roses about the 
 balustrades, its worn steps, well-head, rampant clematis, and 
 cosmopolitan trees? It is idle to make a bid! La Grena- 
 diere will never be in the market; it was bought once and 
 sold, but that was in 1690; and the owner parted with it for 
 forty thousand francs, reluctant as any Arab of the desert to 
 relinquish a favorite horse. Since then it has remained in the 
 same family, its pride, its patrimonial jewel, its Regent dia-
 
 LA GRENADlkRE. 367 
 
 mond. "While you behold, you have and hold," says the 
 bard. And from La Grenadiere you behold three valleys of 
 Touraine and the cathedral towers aloft in air like a bit of 
 filagree work. How can one pay for such treasures? Could 
 one ever pay for the health recovered there under the linden 
 trees ? 
 
 In the spring of one of the brightest years of the restora- 
 tion, a lady with her housekeeper and her two children (the 
 oldest a boy thirteen years old, the youngest apparently about 
 eight) came to Tours to look for a house. She saw La Grena- 
 diere and took it. Perhaps the distance from the town was 
 an inducement to live there. 
 
 She made a bedroom of the drawing-room, gave the chil- 
 dren the two rooms above, and the housekeeper slept in a closet 
 behind the kitchen. The dining-room was sitting-room and 
 drawing-room all in one for the little family. The house 
 was furnished very simply but tastefully; there was nothing 
 superfluous in it, and no trace of luxury. The walnut-wood 
 furniture chosen by the stranger lady was perfectly plain, and 
 the whole charm of the house consisted in its neatness and 
 harmony with its surroundings. 
 
 It was rather difficult, therefore, to say whether the strange 
 lady (Mme. Willemsens, as she styled herself) belonged to the 
 upper middle or higher classes, or to an equivocal, unclassified 
 feminine species. Her plain dress gave rise to the most con- 
 tradictory suppositions, but her manners might be held to 
 confirm those favorable to her. She had not lived at Saint- 
 Cyr, moreover, for very long before her reserve excited the 
 curiosity of idle people, who always, and especially in the 
 country, watch anybody or anything that promises to bring 
 some interest into their narrow lives. 
 
 Mme. Willemsens was rather tall ; she was thin and slender, 
 but delicately shaped. She had pretty feet, more remarkable 
 for the grace of the instep and ankle than for the more ordi- 
 nary merit of slenderness ; her gloved hands, too, were
 
 368 LA GREXADIERE. 
 
 shapely. There were flitting patches of deep red in a pale 
 face, which must have once been fresh and softly colored. 
 Premature wrinkles had withered the delicately modeled fore- 
 head beneath the coronet of soft, well-set, chestnut hair, in- 
 variably wound about her head in two plaits, a girlish coiffure 
 which suited the melancholy face. There was a deceptive 
 look of calm in the dark eyes, with the hollow, shadowy 
 circles about them; sometimes, when she was off her guard, 
 their expression told of secret anguish. The oval of her face 
 was somewhat long ; but happiness and health had perhaps 
 filled and perfected the outlines. A forced smile, full of 
 quiet sadness, hovered continually on her pale lips ; but when 
 the children, who were always with her, looked up at their 
 mother, or asked one of the incessant idle questions which 
 convey so much to a mother's ears, then the smile brightened 
 and expressed the joys of a mother's love. Her gait was slow 
 and dignified. Her dress never varied ; evidently she had 
 made up her mind to think no more of her toilet and to for- 
 get a world by which she meant no doubt to be forgotten. 
 She wore a long, black gown, confined at the waist by a 
 watered-silk ribbon, and by way of scarf a lawn handkerchief 
 with a broad hem, the two ends passed carelessly through her 
 waistband. The instinct of dress showed itself in that she 
 was daintily shod, and gray silk stockings carried out the 
 suggestion of mourning in this unvarying costume. Lastly, 
 she always wore a bonnet after the English fashion, always of 
 the same shape and the same gray material, and a black veil. 
 Her health apparently was extremely weak ; she looked very ill. 
 On fine evenings she would take her only walk, down to the 
 bridge of Tours, bringing the two children with her to breathe 
 the fresh, cool air along the Loire, and to watch the sunset 
 effects on a landscape as wide as the Bay of Naples or the 
 Lake of Geneva. 
 
 During the whole time of her stay at La Grenadiere she 
 went but twice into Tours; once to call on the headmaster
 
 LA GRENAD1ERE. 3G9 
 
 of the school, to ask him to give her the names of the 
 best masters of Latin, drawing, and mathematics; and a 
 second time to make arrangements for the children's lessons. 
 But her appearance on the bridge of an evening, once or 
 twice a week, was quite enough to excite the interest of almost 
 all the inhabitants of Tours, who make a regular promenade 
 of the bridge. Still, in spite of a kind of spy system, by 
 which no harm is meant, a provincial habit bred of want of 
 occupation and the restless inquisitiveness of the principal 
 society, nothing was known for certain of the new-comer's 
 rank, fortune, or real condition. Only, the owner of La 
 Grenadiere told one or two of his friends that the name under 
 which the stranger had signed the lease (her real name, there- 
 fore, in all probability) was Augusta Willemsens, Countess of 
 Brandon. This, of course, must be her husband's name. 
 Events, which will be narrated in their place, confirmed this 
 revelation ; but it went no further than the little world of 
 men of business known to the landlord. 
 
 So Mme. Willemsens was a continual mystery to people of 
 condition. Hers was no ordinary nature ; her manners were 
 simple and delightfully natural; the tones of her voice were 
 divinely sweet — this was all that she suffered others to dis- 
 cover. In her complete seclusion, her sadness, her beauty so 
 passionately obscured — nay, almost blighted — there was so 
 much to charm, that several young gentlemen fell in love; 
 but the more sincere the lover, the more timid he became ; 
 and, besides, the lady inspired awe, and it was a difficult 
 matter to find enough courage to speak to her. Finally, 
 if a few of the bolder sort wrote to her, their letters must 
 have been burned unread. It was Mme. Willemsens' practice 
 to throw all the letters which she received into the fire, as if 
 she meant that the time spent in Touraine should be un- 
 troubled by any outside cares even of the slightest. She 
 might have come to the enchanting retreat to give herself up 
 wholly to the joy of living. 
 24
 
 370 LA GRENADIERE. 
 
 The three masters whose presence was allowed at La 
 Grenadiere spoke with something like admiring reverence 
 of the touching picture that they saw there of the close, 
 unclouded intimacy of the life led by this woman and the 
 children. 
 
 The two little boys also aroused no small interest. 
 Mothers could not see them without a feeling of envy. 
 Both children were like Mme. Willemsens, who was, in 
 fact, their mother. They had the transparent complexion 
 and bright color, the clear liquid eyes, the long lashes, 
 the fresh outlines, the dazzling characteristics of childish 
 beauty. 
 
 The elder, Louis-Gaston, had dark hair and fearless eyes. 
 Everything about him spoke as plainly of robust physical 
 health as his broad, high brow, with its gracious curves, 
 spoke of energy of character. He was quick and alert in 
 his movements, and strong of limb, without a trace of 
 awkwardness. Nothing took him unawares and he seemed 
 to think about everything that he saw. 
 
 Marie-Gaston, the other child, had hair that was almost 
 golden, though a lock here and there had deepened to the 
 mother's chestnut tint. Marie-Gaston was slender; he had 
 the delicate features and the subtle grace so charming in 
 Mme. Willemsens. He did not look strong. There was 
 a gentle look in his gray eyes ; his face was pale ; there was 
 something feminine about the child. He still wore his hair 
 in long, wavy curls, and his mother would not have him give 
 up embroidered collars, and little jackets fastened with frogs 
 and spindle-shaped buttons ; evidently she took a thoroughly 
 feminine pleasure in the costume, a source of as much interest 
 to the mother as to the child. The elder boy's plain white 
 collar, turned down over a closely fitting jacket, made a con- 
 trast with his brother's clothing, but the color and material 
 were the same ; the two brothers were otherwise dressed alike, 
 and looked alike.
 
 LA GRENADIERE. 371 
 
 No one could see them without feeling touched by the way 
 In which Louis took care of Marie. There was an almost 
 fatherly look in the older boy's eyes ; and Marie, child though 
 he was, seemed to be full of gratitude to Louis. They were 
 like two buds, scarcely separated from the stem that bore 
 them, swayed by the same breeze, lying in the same ray of 
 sunlight ; but the one was a brightly colored flower, the 
 other somewhat bleached and pale. At a glance, a word, an 
 inflection in their mother's voice, they grew heedful, turned 
 to look at her and listened, and did at once what they were 
 bidden, or asked, or recommended to do. Mme. Willemsens 
 had so accustomed them to understand her wishes and desires 
 that the three seemed to have their thoughts in common. 
 When they went for a walk, and the children, absorbed in 
 their play, ran away to gather a flower or to look at some in- 
 sect, she watched them with such deep tenderness in her eyes 
 that the most indifferent passer-by would feel moved, and stop 
 and smile at the children and give the mother a glance of 
 friendly greeting. Who would not have admired the dainty 
 neatness of their dress, their sweet, childish voices, the grace 
 of their movements, the promise in their faces, the innate 
 something that told of careful training from the cradle? 
 They seemed as if they had never shed tears nor wailed like 
 other children. Their mother knew, as it were, by electri- 
 cally swift intuition, the desires and the pains which she antic- 
 ipated and relieved. She seemed to dread a complaint from 
 one of them more than the loss of her soul. Everything in 
 her children did honor to their mother's training. Their 
 threefold life, seemingly one life, called up vague, fond 
 thoughts; it was like a vision of the dreamed-of bliss of a 
 better world. And the three, so attuned to each other, lived 
 in truth such a life as one might picture for them at first sight 
 — the ordered, simple, and regular life best suited for a child's 
 education. 
 
 Both children rose an hour after daybreak and repeated a
 
 372 LA GRENADIERE. 
 
 short prayer, a habit learned in their babyhood. For seven 
 years the sincere petition had been put up every morning on 
 their mother's bed, begun and ended by a kiss. Then the 
 two brothers went through their morning toilet as scrupulously 
 as any pretty woman ; doubtless they had been trained in 
 habits of minute attention to the person, so necessary, to 
 health of body and mind, habits in some sort conducive to a 
 sense of well-being. Conscientiously they went through 
 their duties, so afraid were they lest their mother should say 
 when she kissed them at breakfast-time, "My darling chil- 
 dren, where can you have been to have such black finger- 
 nails already?" Then the two went out into the garden 
 and shook off the dreams of the night in the morning air and 
 dew, until sweeping and dusting operations were completed 
 and they could learn their lessons in the sitting-room until 
 their mother joined .them. But although it was understood 
 that they must not go to their mother's room before a certain 
 hour, they peeped in at the door continually ; and these 
 morning inroads, made in defiance of the original compact, 
 were delicious moments for all three. Marie sprang upon the 
 bed to put his arms about his idolized mother, and Louis, 
 kneeling by the pillow, took her hand in his. Then came in- 
 quiries, anxious as a lover's, followed by angelic laughter, 
 passionate, childish kisses, eloquent silences, lisping words, 
 and the little ones' stories interrupted and resumed by a kiss, 
 stories seldom finished, though the listeners' interest never 
 failed. 
 
 "Have you been industrious?" their mother would ask, 
 but in tones so sweet and kindly that she seemed ready to 
 pity laziness as a misfortune and to glance through tears at 
 the child who was satisfied with himself. 
 
 She knew that the thought of pleasing her put energy into 
 the children's work ; and they knew that their mother lived 
 for them, and that all her thoughts and her time were given 
 to them. A wonderful instinct, neither selfishness nor reason,
 
 LA GRENADIERE. 
 
 perhaps the first innocent beginnings of sentiment, teaches 
 children to know whether or not they are the first and sole 
 thought, to find out those who love to think of them and for 
 them. If you really love children, the dear little ones, with 
 open hearts and unerring sense of justice, are marvelously 
 ready to respond to love. Their love knows passion and 
 jealousy and the most gracious delicacy of feeling ; they find 
 the tenderest words of expression ; they trust you — put an 
 entire belief in you. Perhaps there are no undutiful chil- 
 dren without undutiful mothers, for a child's affection is 
 always in proportion to the affection that it receives — in early 
 care, in the first words that it hears, in the response of the 
 eyes to which a child first looks for love and life. All these 
 things draw them closer to the mother or drive them apart. 
 God lays the child under the mother's heart, that she may 
 learn that for a long time to come her heart must be its home. 
 And yet — there are mothers cruelly slighted, mothers whose 
 sublime, pathetic tenderness meets only a harsh return, a hide- 
 ous ingratitude which shows how difficult it is to lay down 
 hard-and-fast rules in matters of feeling. 
 
 Here, not one of all the thousand heart-ties that bind 
 child and mother had been broken. The three were alone in 
 the world ; they lived one life, a life of close sympathy. If 
 Mine. Willemsens was silent in the morning, Louis and Marie 
 would not speak, respecting everything in her, even those 
 thoughts which they did not share. But the elder boy, with 
 a precocious power of thought, would not rest satisfied with 
 his mother's assertion that she was perfectly well. He 
 scanned her face with uneasy forebodings ; the exact danger 
 he did not know, but dimly he felt it threatening in those 
 purple rings about her eyes, in the deepening hollows under 
 them, and the feverish red that deepened in her face. If 
 Marie's play began to tire her, his sensitive tact was quick to 
 discover this, and he would call to his brother — 
 
 " Come, Marie ! let us run into breakfast, I am hungry ! "
 
 374 LA GRENADIERE. 
 
 But when they reached the door, he would look back to 
 catch the expression on his mother's face. She could still 
 find a smile for him; nay, often there were tears in her eyes 
 when some little thing revealed her child's exquisite feeling, 
 a too early comprehension of sorrow. 
 
 Mme. Willemsens dressed during the children's early break- 
 fast and game of play, she was coquettish for her darlings ; 
 she wished to be pleasing in their eyes ; for them she would 
 fain be in all things lovely, a gracious vision, with the charm 
 of some sweet perfume of which one can never have enough. 
 
 She was always dressed in time to hear their lessons, which 
 lasted from ten till three, with an interval at noon for lunch, 
 the three taking the meal together in the summer-house. 
 After lunch the children played for an hour, while she — poor 
 woman and happy mother — lay on a long sofa in the summer- 
 house, so placed that she could look out over the soft, ever- 
 changing country of Touraine, a land that you learn to see 
 afresh in all the thousand chance effects produced by daylight 
 and sky and the time of year. 
 
 The children scampered through the orchard, scrambled 
 about the terraces, chased the lizards, scarcely less nimble 
 than they ; investigating flowers and seeds and insects, con- 
 tinually referring all questions to their mother, running to and 
 fro between the garden and the summer-house. Children 
 have no need of toys in the country, everything amuses them. 
 
 Mme. Willemsens sat at her embroidery during their les- 
 sons. She never spoke, nor did she look at masters or pupils; 
 but she followed attentively all that was said, striving to 
 gather the sense of the words to gain a general idea of Louis' 
 progress. If Louis asked a question that puzzled his master, 
 his mother's eyes suddenly lighted up, and she would smile 
 and glance at him with hope in her eyes. Of Marie she 
 asked little. Her desire was with her eldest son. Already 
 she treated him, as it were, respectfully, using all a woman's, 
 all a mother's tact to arouse the spirit of high endeavor in
 
 LA GRENADIERE. 375 
 
 the boy, to teach him to think of himself as capable of great 
 things. She did this with a secret purpose, which Louis was 
 to understand in the future; nay, he understood it already. 
 
 Always, the lesson over, she went as far as the gate with 
 the master, and asked strict account of Louis' progress. So 
 kindly and so winning was her manner that his tutors told 
 her the truth, pointing out where Louis was weak, so that she 
 might help him in his lessons. Then came dinner, and play 
 after dinner, then a walk, and lessons were learned till bed- 
 time. 
 
 So their days went. It was a uniform but full life ; work 
 and amusements left them not a dull hour in the day. Dis- 
 couragement and quarreling were impossible. The mother's 
 boundless love made everything smooth. She taught her lit- 
 tle sons moderation by refusing them nothing, and submission 
 by making them see underlying necessity in its many forms ; 
 she put heart into them with timely praise; developing and 
 strengthening all that was best in their natures with the care 
 of a good fairy. Tears sometimes rose to her burning eyes 
 as she watched them play, and thought how that they had 
 never caused her the slightest vexation. Happiness so far- 
 reaching and complete brings such tears, because for us it 
 represents the dim imaginings of heaven which we all of us 
 form in our minds. 
 
 Those were delicious hours spent on that sofa in the garden 
 house, in looking out on sunny days over the wide stretches of 
 river and the picturesque landscape, listening to the sound of 
 her children's voices as they laughed at their own laughter, to 
 the little quarrels that told most plainly of their union of 
 heart, of Louis' paternal care of Marie, of the love that both 
 of them felt for her. They spoke English and French equally 
 well (they had had an English nurse since their babyhood), 
 so their mother talked to them in both languages ; directing 
 the bent of their childish minds with admirable skill, admit- 
 ting no fallacious reasoning, no bad principle. She ruled by
 
 376 LA GRENA&IERE. 
 
 kindness, concealing nothing, explaining everything. If Louis 
 wished for books she was careful to give him interesting yet 
 accurate books — books of biography, the lives of great sea- 
 men, great captains, and famous men ; for little incidents in 
 their history gave her numberless opportunities of explaining 
 the world and life to her children. She would point out the 
 ways in which men, really great in themselves, had risen from 
 obscurity ; how they had started from the lowest ranks of 
 society, with no one to look to but themselves, and achieved 
 noble destinies. 
 
 These readings, and they were not the least useful of Louis' 
 lessons, took place while little Marie slept on his mother's 
 knee in the quiet of the summer night, and the Loire reflected 
 the sky ; but when they ended, this adorable woman's sadness 
 always seemed to be doubled ; she would cease to speak and 
 sit motionless and pensive, and her eyes would fill with tears. 
 
 "Mother, why are you crying?" Louis asked one balmy 
 June evening, just as the twilight of a soft-lit night succeeded 
 to a hot day. 
 
 Deeply moved by his trouble, she put her arm about the 
 child's neck and drew him to her. 
 
 " Because, my boy, the lot of Jameray Duval, the poor and 
 friendless lad who succeeded at last, will be your lot, yours 
 and your brother's, and I have brought it upon you. Before 
 very long, dear child, you will be alone in the world, with no 
 one to help or befriend you. While you are still children, I 
 shall leave you, and yet, if only I could wait till you are big 
 enough and know enough to be Marie's guardian ! But I 
 shall not live so long. I love you so much that it makes me 
 very unhappy to think of it. Dear children, if only you do 
 not curse me some day ! " 
 
 " But why should I curse you some day, mother? " 
 
 "Some day," she said, kissing him on the forehead, "you 
 will find out that I have wronged you. I am going to leave 
 you, here, without money, without " — here she hesitated —
 
 LA CRENADI&RE. 377 
 
 "without a father," she added, and at the word she burst 
 into tears and put the boy from her gently. A sort of- intui- 
 tion told Louis that his mother wished to be alone, and he 
 carried off Marie, now half-awake. An hour later, when his 
 brother was in bed, he stole down and out to the summer- 
 house where his mother was sitting. 
 
 " Louis ! come here." 
 
 The words were spoken in tones delicious to his heart. 
 The boy sprang to his mother's arms, and the two held each 
 other in an almost convulsive embrace. 
 
 "Cherie," he said at last, the name by which he often 
 called her, finding that even loving words were too weak to 
 express his feeling; "Chcrie, why are you afraid that you are 
 going to die? " 
 
 " I am ill, my poor darling ; every day I am losing strength, 
 and there is no cure for my illness ; I know that." 
 
 "What is the matter with you ? " 
 
 " Something that I ought to forget ; something that you 
 must never know. You must not know what caused my 
 death." 
 
 The boy was silent awhile. He stole a glance now and 
 again at his mother ; and she, with her eyes raised to the sky, 
 was watching the clouds. It was a sad, sweet moment. Louis 
 could not believe that his mother would die soon, but in- 
 stinctively he felt trouble which he could not guess. He 
 respected her long musings. If he had been rather older, he 
 would have read happy memories blended with thoughts of 
 repentance, the whole story of a woman's life in that sublime 
 face — the careless childhood, the loveless marriage, a terrible 
 passion, flowers springing up in storm and struck down by 
 the thunderbolt into an abyss from which there is no return. 
 
 "Darling mother," Louis said at last, " why do you hide 
 your pain from me?" 
 
 " My boy, we ought to hide our troubles from strangers," 
 she said ; " we should show them a smiling face, never speak
 
 378 LA GRENADIERE. 
 
 of ourselves to them, nor think about ourselves ; and these 
 rules, put in practice in family life, conduce to its happiness. 
 You will have much to bear one day ! Ah me ! then think 
 of your poor mother who died smiling before your eyes, 
 hiding her sufferings from you, and you will take courage to 
 endure the ills of life." 
 
 She choked back her tears and tried to make the boy un- 
 derstand the mechanism of existence, the value of money, the 
 standing and consideration that it gives, and its bearing on 
 social position ; the honorable means of gaining a livelihood, 
 and the necessity of a training. Then she told him that one 
 of the chief causes of her sadness and her tears was the thought 
 that, on the morrow of her death, he and Marie would be left 
 almost resourceless, with but a slender stock of money, and 
 no friend but God. 
 
 "How quick I must be about learning!" cried Louis, 
 giving her a piteous, searching look. 
 
 " Oh ! how happy I am ! " she said, showering kisses and 
 tears on her son. " He understands me ! Louis," she went 
 on, " you will be your brother's guardian, will you not? You 
 promise me that ? You are no longer a child ! " 
 
 " Yes, I promise," he said ; "but you are not going to die 
 yet — say that you are not going to die ! " 
 
 " Poor little ones ! " she replied, " love for you keeps the 
 life in me. And this country is so sunny, the air is so brac- 
 ing, perhaps " 
 
 "You make me love Touraine more than ever," said the 
 child. 
 
 From that day, when Mine. Willemsens, foreseeing the 
 approach of death, spoke to Louis of his future, he concen- 
 trated his attention on his work, grew more industrious, and 
 less inclined to play than heretofore. When he had coaxed 
 Marie to read a book and to give up boisterous games, there 
 was less noise in the hollow pathways and gardens and ter- 
 raced walks of La Grenadiere. They adapted their lives to
 
 LA GREKADIERE. 379 
 
 their mother's melancholy. Day by day her face was growing 
 pale and wan, there were hollows now in her temples, the 
 lines in her forehead grew deeper night after night. 
 
 August came. The little family had been five months at 
 La Grenadiere, and their whole life was changed. The old 
 servant grew anxious and gloomy as she watched the almost 
 imperceptible symptoms of slow decline in the mistress, who 
 seemed to be kept in life by an impassioned soul and intense 
 love of her children. Old Annette seemed to see that death 
 was very near. That mistress, beautiful still, was more careful 
 of her appearance than she had ever been ; she was at pains 
 to adorn her wasted self and wore paint on her cheeks ; but 
 often while she walked on the upper terrace with the children, 
 Annette's wrinkled face would peer out from between the 
 savin trees by the pump. The old woman would forget her 
 work and stand with the wet linen in her hands, scarcely able 
 to keep back her tears at the sight of Mme. Willemsens, so 
 little like the enchanting woman she once had been. 
 
 The pretty house itself, once so gay and bright, looked mel- 
 ancholy ; it was a very quiet house now, and the family seldom 
 left it, for the walk to the bridge was too great an effort for 
 Mme. Willemsens. Louis had almost identified himself, as it 
 were, with his mother, and with his suddenly developed powers 
 of imagination he saw the weariness and exhaustion under the 
 red color, and constantly found reasons for taking some shorter 
 walk. 
 
 So happy couples coming to Saint-Cyr, then the Petite 
 Courtille of Tours, and knots of folks out for their evening 
 walk along the "dike," saw a pale, thin figure dressed in 
 black, a woman with a worn yet bright face, gliding like a 
 shadow along the terraces. Great suffering cannot be con- 
 cealed. The vine-dresser's household had grown quiet also. 
 Sometimes the laborer and his wife and children were gath- 
 ered about the door of their cottage, while Annette was wash- 
 ing linen at the well-head, and Mme. Willemsens and the
 
 380 LA GRENADIERE. 
 
 children sat in the summer-house, and there was not the 
 faintest sound in those gardens gay with flowers. Unknown 
 to Mme. Willemsens, all eyes grew pitiful at the sight of her, 
 she was so good, so thoughtful, so dignified with those with 
 whom she came in contact. 
 
 And as for her. When the autumn days came on, days so 
 sunny and bright in Touraine, bringing with them grapes and 
 ripe fruits and healthful influences which must surely prolong 
 life in spite of the ravages of mysterious disease — she saw no 
 one but her children, taking the utmost that the hour could 
 give her, as if each one had been her last. 
 
 Louis had worked at night unknown to his mother, and 
 made immense progress between June and September. In 
 algebra he had come as far as equations with two unknown 
 quantities ; he had studied descriptive geometry, and drew 
 admirably well ; in fact, he was prepared to pass the entrance 
 examination of the Ecole Polytechnique. 
 
 Sometimes of an evening he went down to the bridge of 
 Tours. There was a lieutenant there on half-pay, an imperial 
 naval officer, whose manly face, medal, and gait had made an 
 impression on the boy's imagination, and the officer on his side 
 had taken a liking to the lad, whose eyes sparkled with energy. 
 Louis, hungering for tales of adventure and eager for informa- 
 tion, used to follow in the lieutenant's wake for the chance 
 of a chat with him. It so happened that the sailor had a 
 friend and comrade in the colonel of a regiment of infantry, 
 struck off the rolls like himself; and young Louis-Gaston had 
 a chance of learning what life was like in camp or on board a 
 man-of-war. Of course he plied the veterans with questions ; 
 and when he had made up his mind to the hardships of their 
 rough callings, he asked his mother's leave to take countrv 
 walks by way of amusement. Mine. Willemsens was beyond 
 measure glad that he should ask ; the boy's astonished masters 
 had told her that he was overworking himself. So Louis went 
 for long walks. He tried to inure himself to fatigue, climbed
 
 LA GRENAD1ERE. 381 
 
 the tallest trees with incredible quickness, learned to swim, 
 watched through the night. He was not like the same boy ; 
 he was a young man already, with a sunburned face, and a 
 something in his expression that told of deep purpose. 
 
 When October came, Mme. Willemsens could only rise at 
 noon. The sunshine, reflected by the surface of the Loire 
 and stored up by the rocks, raised the temperature of the air 
 till it was almost as warm and soft as the atmosphere of the 
 Bay of Naples, for which reason the faculty recommended the 
 place of abode. At mid-day she came out to sit under the 
 shade of green leaves with the two boys, who never wandered 
 from her now. Lessons had come to an end. Mother and 
 children wished to live the life of heart and heart together, 
 with no disturbing element, no outside cares. No tears now, 
 no joyous outcries. The elder boy, lying in the grass at his 
 mother's side, basked in her eyes like a lover and kissed her 
 feet. Marie, the restless one, gathered flowers for her, and 
 brought them with a subdued look, standing on tiptoe to put a 
 girlish kiss on her lips. And the pale woman, with the great 
 tired eyes and languid movements, never uttered a word of 
 complaint, and smiled upon her children, so full of life and 
 health — it was a sublime picture, lacking no melancholy 
 autumn pomp of yellow leaves and half-despoiled branches, nor 
 the softened sunlight and pale clouds of the skies of Touraine. 
 
 At last the doctor forbade Mme. Willemsens to leave her 
 room. Every day it was brightened by the flowers that she 
 loved, and her children were always with her. One day, 
 early in November, she sat at the piano for the last time. A 
 picture — a Swiss landscape — hung above the instrument ; and 
 at the window she could see her children standing with their 
 heads close together. Again and again she looked from the 
 children to the landscape, and then again at the children. 
 Her face flushed, her fingers flew with passionate feeling over 
 the ivory keys. This was her last great day, an unmarked 
 day of festival, held in her own soul by the spirit of her memo-
 
 382 LA GRENADIERE. 
 
 ries. When the doctor came, he ordered her to stay in bed. 
 The alarming dictum was received with bewildered silence 
 and sorrow. 
 
 When the doctor had gone, she turned to the elder boy. 
 
 " Louis," she said, " take me out on the terrace, so that I 
 may see my country once more." 
 
 The boy gave his arm at these simply uttered words, and 
 brought his mother out upon the terrace ; but her eyes turned, 
 perhaps unconsciously, to heaven rather than to the earth, 
 and, indeed, it would have been hard to say whether heaven 
 or earth was the fairer — for the clouds traced shadowy out- 
 lines, like the grandest Alpine glaciers, against the sky. Mme. 
 Willemsens' brows contracted vehemently ; there was a look 
 of anguish and remorse in her eyes. She caught the children's 
 hands and clutched them to a heavily-throbbing heart. 
 
 "Parentage unknown!" she cried, with a look that went 
 to their hearts. "Poor angels, what will become of you? 
 And when you are twenty years old, what strict account may 
 you not require of my life and your own ? " 
 
 She put the children from her, and, leaning her arms upon 
 the balustrade, stood for a while hiding her face, alone with 
 herself, fearful of all eyes. When she recovered from the 
 paroxysm, she saw Louis and Marie kneeling on either side 
 of her, like two angels ; they watched the expression of her 
 face and smiled lovingly at her. 
 
 " If only I could take that smile with me ! " she said, dry- 
 ing her eyes. 
 
 Then she went into the house and took to the bed, which 
 she would only leave for her coffin. 
 
 A week went by, one day exactly like another. Old An- 
 nette and Louis took it in turns to sit up with Mme. Willem- 
 sens, never taking their eyes from the invalid. It was the 
 deeply tragical hour that comes in all our lives, the hour of 
 listening in terror to every deep breath lest it should be the 
 last, a dark hour protracted over many days. On the fifth
 
 LA GKENAD1ERE. 383 
 
 day of that fatal week the doctor interdicted flowers in the 
 room. The illusions of life were going one by one. 
 
 Then Marie and his brother felt their mother's lips hot as 
 fire beneath their kisses ; and at last, on the Saturday even- 
 ing, Mme. Willemsens was too ill to bear the slightest sound 
 and her room was left in disorder. This neglect for a woman 
 of refined taste, who clung so persistently to the graces of 
 life, meant the beginning of the death-agony. After this, 
 Louis refused to leave his mother. On Sunday night, in the 
 midst of the deepest silence, when Louis thought that she had 
 grown drowsy, he saw a white, moist hand move the curtain 
 in the lamplight. 
 
 " My son ! " she said. There was something so solemn in 
 the dying woman's tones that the power of her wrought-up 
 soul produced a violent reaction on the boy ; he felt an in- 
 tense heat pass through the marrow of his bones. 
 
 "What is it, mother?" 
 
 " Listen ! To-morrow all will be over for me. We shall 
 see each other no more. To-morrow vou will be a man, ray 
 child. So I am obliged to make some arrangements, which 
 must remain a secret, known only to us. Take the key of 
 my little table. That is it. Now open the drawer. You 
 will find two sealed papers to the left. There is the name of 
 Louis on one, and on the other Marie." 
 
 " Here they are, mother." 
 
 "Those are your certificates of birth, darling; you will 
 need them. Give them to our poor old Annette to keep for 
 you; ask her for them when you want them. Now," she 
 continued, " is there not another paper as well, something in 
 my handwriting? " 
 
 "Yes, mother," and Louis began to read, "Marie Willem- 
 sens, bom at " 
 
 "That is enough," she broke in quickly, "do not go on. 
 When I am dead give that paper, too, to Annette, and tell 
 her to send it to the registrar at Saint-Cyr; it will be wanted
 
 384 LA GREXAD1ERE. 
 
 if my certificate of death is to be made out in due form. 
 Now find writing materials for a letter which I will dictate to 
 you." 
 
 When she saw that he was ready to begin to write, and 
 turned towards her for the words, they came from her very 
 quietly: 
 
 " Monsieur le Comte, your wife, Lady Brandon, died at 
 Saint-Cyr, near Tours, in the department of Indre-et-Loire. 
 She forgave you." 
 
 "Sign yourself ," she stopped, hesitating and per- 
 turbed. 
 
 " Are you feeling worse? " asked Louis. 
 
 " Put ' Louis-Gaston,' " she said. 
 
 She sighed, then she went on : 
 
 "Seal the letter, and direct it. To Lord Brandon, Bran, 
 don Square, Hyde Park, London, Angleterre. That is right. 
 When I am dead, post the letter in Tours, and prepay the 
 postage. Now," she added, after a pause, "take the little 
 pocket-book that you know and come here, my dear child. 
 There are twelve thousand francs in it," she said, when Louis 
 had returned to her side. " That is all your own. Oh me ! 
 you would have been better off if your father " 
 
 " My father," cried the boy, " where is he? " 
 
 " He is dead," she said, laying her finger on her lips; "he 
 died to save my honor and my life." 
 
 She looked upward. If any tears had been left to her, she 
 could have wept for pain. 
 
 " Louis," she continued, " swear to me, as I lie here, that 
 you will forget all that you have written, all that I have told 
 you." 
 
 "Yes, mother." 
 
 " Kiss me, dear angel." 
 
 She was silent for a long time, she seemed to be drawing
 
 LA GRENADIERE. 385 
 
 strength from God and to be measuring her words by the life 
 that remained in her. 
 
 "Listen," she began. " Those twelve thousand francs are 
 all that you have in the world. You must keep the money 
 '7>on you, because when I am dead the lawyers will come and 
 seal everything up. Nothing will be yours then, not even 
 your mother. All that remains for you to do will be to go 
 out, poor orphan children, God knows where. I have made 
 Annette's future secure. She will have an annuity of a hun- 
 dred crowns, and she will stay at Tours, no doubt. But what 
 will you do for yourself and your brother?" 
 
 She raised herself, and looked at the brave child standing 
 by her bedside. There were drops of perspiration on his 
 forehead, he was pale with emotion and his eyes were dim 
 with tears. 
 
 " I have thought it over, mother," he answered in a deep 
 voice. " I will take Marie to the school here in Tours. I 
 will give ten thousand francs to our old Annette, and ask her 
 to take care of them, and to look after Marie. Then, with 
 the remaining two thousand francs, I will go to Brest, and go 
 to sea as an apprentice. While Marie is at school, I will rise 
 to be a lieutenant on board a man-of-war. There, after all, 
 die in peace, my mother ; I shall come back again a rich 
 man and our little one shall go to the Ecole Polytechnique, 
 and I will find a career to suit his bent." 
 
 A gleam of joy shone in the dying woman's eyes. Two 
 tears brimmed over and fell down her fevered cheeks ; then a 
 deep sigh escaped her lips. The sudden joy of finding the 
 father's spirit in the son, who had grown all at once to be a 
 man, almost killed her. 
 
 "Angel of heaven," she cried, weeping, "by one word 
 you have effaced all my sorrows. Ah ! I can bear them. 
 This is my son," she said, "I bore, I reared this man," and 
 she raised her hands above her and clasped them as if in 
 ecstasy, then she lay back on the pillow. 
 25
 
 386 LA GKENADIERE. 
 
 " Mother, your face is growing pale ! " cried the lad. 
 
 "Some one must go for a priest," she answered, with a 
 dying voice. 
 
 Louis awakened Annette, and the terrified old woman 
 hurried to the parsonage at Saint-Cyr. 
 
 When morning came, Mme. Willemsens received the sacra- 
 ment amidst the most touching surroundings. Her children 
 were kneeling in the room, with Annette and the vine-dresser's 
 family, simple folk, who had already become part of the 
 household. The silver crucifix, carried by a chorister, a 
 peasant child from the village, was lifted up and the dying 
 mother received the Viaticum from an aged priest. The 
 Viaticum ! sublime word, containing an idea yet more sub- 
 lime, an idea only possessed by the apostolic religion of the 
 Roman church. 
 
 " This woman has suffered greatly ! " the old cure said in 
 his simple way. 
 
 Marie Willemsens heard no voices now, but her eyes were 
 still fixed upon her children. Those about her listened in 
 terror to her breathing in the deep silence ; already it came 
 more slowly, though at intervals a deep sigh told them that 
 she still lived, and of a struggle within her ; then at last it 
 ceased. Every one burst into tears except Marie. He, poor 
 child, was still too young to know what death meant. 
 
 Annette and the vine-dresser's wife closed the eyes of the 
 adorable woman, whose beauty shone out in all its radiance 
 after death. Then the women took possession of the chamber 
 of death, removed the furniture, wrapped the dead in her 
 winding-sheet and laid her upon the couch. They lit tapers 
 about her and arranged everything — the crucifix, the sprigs 
 of box, and the holy-water stoup — after the custom of the 
 countryside, bolting the shutters and drawing the curtains. 
 Later the curate came to pass the night in prayer with Louis, 
 who refused to leave his mother. On Tuesday morning an 
 old woman and two children and a vine-dresser's wife followed
 
 LA GRENAD1&RE. 387 
 
 the dead to her grave. These were the only mourners. Yet 
 this was a woman whose wit and beauty and charm had won a 
 European reputation, a woman whose funeral, if it had taken 
 place in London, would have been recorded in pompous 
 newspaper paragraphs as a sort of aristocratic rite, if she had 
 not committed the sweetest of crimes, a crime always expiated 
 in this world, so that the pardoned spirit may enter heaven. 
 Marie cried when they threw the earth on his mother's coffin ; 
 he understood that he should see her no more. 
 
 A simple, wooden cross, set up to mark her grave, bore 
 this inscription, due to the cure of Saint-Cyr : 
 
 HERE LIES 
 
 AN UNHAPPY WOMAN, 
 
 WHO DIED AT THE AGE OF THIRTY-SIX. 
 KNOWN IN HEAVEN BY THE NAME OF AUGUSTA. 
 
 Pray for her ! 
 
 When all was over, the children came back to La Grena- 
 diere to take a last look at their home; then, hand in hand, 
 they turned to go with Annette, leaving the vine-dresser in 
 charge, with directions to duly hand over everything to the 
 proper authorities. 
 
 At this moment, Annette called to Louis from the steps by 
 the kitchen door, and took him aside with, " Here is mad- 
 ame's ring, Monsieur Louis." 
 
 The sight of this vivid remembrance of his dead mother 
 moved him so deeply that he wept. In his fortitude, he had 
 not even thought of this supreme piety ; and he flung his 
 arms round the old woman's neck. Then the three set out 
 down the beaten path and the stone staircase, and so to Tours, 
 without turning their heads.
 
 S88 LA GRENADIERE. 
 
 " Mamma used to come here! " Marie said when they 
 reached the bridge. 
 
 Annette had a relative, a retired dressmaker, who lived in 
 the Rue de la Guerche. She took the two children to this 
 cousin's house, meaning that they should live together thence- 
 forth. But Louis told her of his plans, gave Marie's certifi- 
 cate of birth and the ten thousand francs into her keeping, 
 and the two went the next morning to take Marie to school. 
 
 Louis very briefly explained his position to the headmaster, 
 and went. Marie came with him as far as the gateway. 
 There Louis gave solemn parting words of the tenderest 
 counsel, telling Marie that he would now be left alone in the 
 world. He looked at his brother for a moment, and put his 
 arms about him, took one more long look, brushed a tear 
 from his eyes, and went, turning again and again till the very 
 last to see his brother standing there in the gateway of the 
 school. 
 
 A month later Louis-Gaston, now an apprentice on board a 
 man-of-war, left the harbor of Rochefort. Leaning over the 
 bulwarks of the corvette Iris, he watched the coast of France 
 receding swiftly till it became indistinguishable from the faint, 
 blue horizon line. In a little while he felt that he was really 
 alone, and lost in the wide ocean, lost and alone in the world 
 and in life. 
 
 " There is no need to cry, lad ; there is a God for us all," 
 said an old sailor, with rough kindliness in his thick voice. 
 
 The boy thanked him with pride in his eyes. Then he 
 bowed his head, and resigned himself to a sailor's life. He 
 was a father. 
 
 Angoul£me, August, 1832.
 
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