The Mysteries of Paris, Volume 4 of 6. Эжен Сю

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СКАЧАТЬ would not go out with him in order to teach him a lesson; and I told him very seriously, that if he began his tricks, which annoyed me so much, we should never go out together again."

      "What a bold resolve!"

      "Yes, it was really a sacrifice on my part, M. Rodolph, for I was always looking forward with delight to my Sundays, and I was very much tried by being kept in all alone in such beautiful weather. But that's nothing. I preferred sacrificing my Sundays to hearing M. Cabrion continue to make ridicule of those whom I respected. Certainly, after that, but for the idea I attached to them, I should have preferred giving my birds other names; and, you must know, there is one name which I adore, – it is Colibri.1 I did not change, because I never will call those birds by any other name than Crétu and Ramonette; if I did, I should seem to make a sacrifice, that I forgot my good, adopted parents, – don't you think so, M. Rodolph?"

      "You are right a thousand times over. And Germain did not turn these names into a jest, eh?"

      "On the contrary, the first time he heard them he thought them droll, like every one else, and that was natural enough. But when I explained to him my reasons, as I had many times explained them to M. Cabrion, tears started to his eyes. From that time I said to myself, M. Germain is very kind-hearted, and there is nothing to be said against him, but his weeping so. And so, you see, M. Rodolph, my reproaching him with his sadness has made me unhappy now. Then I could not understand why any one was melancholy, but now I understand it but too well. But now my packet is completed, and my work is ready for delivery. Will you hand me my shawl, neighbour? It is not cold enough to take a cloak, is it?"

      "We shall go and return in a coach."

      "True; we shall go and return very quickly, and that will be so much gained."

      "But, now I think of it, what are you to do? Your work will suffer from your visits to the prison."

      "Oh, no, no; I have made my calculations. In the first place, I have my Sundays to myself, so I shall go and see Louise and Germain on those days; that will serve me for a walk and a change. Then, in the week, I shall go again to the prison once or twice. Each time will occupy me three good hours, won't it? Well, to manage this comfortably, I shall work an hour more every day, and go to bed at twelve o'clock instead of eleven o'clock; that will be a clear gain of seven or eight hours a week, which I can employ in going to see Louise and Germain. You see I am richer than I appear," added Rigolette, with a smile.

      "And you have no fear that you will be overfatigued?"

      "Bah! Not at all; I shall manage it. And, besides, it can't last for ever."

      "Here is your shawl, neighbour."

      "Fasten it; and mind you don't prick me."

      "Ah, the pin is bent."

      "Well, then, clumsy, take another then, – from the pincushion. Ah, I forgot! Will you do me a great favour, neighbour?"

      "Command me, neighbour."

      "Mend me a good pen, with a broad nib, so that when I return I may write to poor Germain, and tell him I have executed all his commissions. He will have my letter to-morrow morning in the prison, and that will give him pleasure."

      "Where are your pens?"

      "There, – on the table; the knife is in the drawer. Wait until I light my taper, for it begins to grow dusk."

      "Yes, I shall see better how to mend the pen."

      "And I how to tie my cap."

      Rigolette lighted a lucifer-match, and lighted a wax-end in a small bright candlestick.

      "The deuce, – a wax-light! Why, neighbour, what extravagance!"

      "Oh, what I burn costs but a very small trifle more than a candle, and it's so much cleaner!"

      "Not much dearer?"

      "Indeed, they are not! I buy these wax-ends by the pound, and a half a pound lasts nearly a year."

      "But," said Rodolph, who was mending the pen very carefully, whilst the grisette was tying on her cap before the glass, "I do not see any preparations for your dinner."

      "I have not the least appetite. I took a cup of milk this morning, and I shall take another this evening, with a small piece of bread, and that will be enough for me."

      "Then you will not take a dinner with me quietly after we have been to Germain's?"

      "Thank you, neighbour; but I am not in spirits, – my heart is too heavy, – another time with pleasure. But the evening when poor Germain leaves his prison, I invite myself, and afterwards you shall take me to the theatre. Is that a bargain?"

      "It is, neighbour; and I assure you I will not forget the engagement. But you refuse me this to-day?"

      "Yes, M. Rodolph. I should be a very dull companion, without saying a word about the time it would occupy me; for, you see, at this moment, I really cannot afford to be idle, or waste one single quarter of an hour."

      "Then, for to-day I renounce the pleasure."

      "There is my parcel, neighbour. Now go out first, and I will lock the door."

      "Here's a capital pen for you; and now for the parcel."

      "Mind you don't rumple it; it is pout-de-soie, and soon creases. Hold it in your hand, – carefully, – there, in that way; that's it. Now go, and I will show you a light."

      And Rodolph descended the staircase, followed by Rigolette.

      At the moment when the two neighbours were passing by the door of the porter's lodge they saw M. Pipelet, who, with his arms hanging down, was advancing towards them from the bottom of the passage, holding in one hand the sign which announced his Partnership of Friendship with Cabrion, and in the other the portrait of the confounded painter. Alfred's despair was so overwhelming that his chin touched his breast, so that the wide crown of his bell-shaped hat was easily seen. Seeing him thus, with his head lowered, coming towards Rodolph and Rigolette, he might have been compared to a ram, or a brave Breton, preparing for combat.

      Anastasie soon appeared on the threshold of the lodge, and exclaimed, at her husband's appearance:

      "Well, dearest old boy, here you are! And what did the commissary say to you? Alfred, Alfred, mind what you're doing, or you'll poke your head against my king of lodgers. Excuse him, M. Rodolph. It is that vagabond of a Cabrion, who uses him worse and worse. He'll certainly turn my dear old darling into a donkey! Alfred, love, speak to me!"

      At this voice, so dear to his heart, M. Pipelet raised his head. His features were impressed with a bitter agony.

      "What did the commissary say to you?" inquired Anastasie.

      "Anastasie, we must collect the few things we possess, embrace our friends, pack up our trunk, and expatriate ourselves from Paris, – from France, – from my beautiful France; for now, assured of impunity, the monster is capable of pursuing me everywhere, throughout the length and breadth of the departments of the kingdom."

      "What, the commissary?"

      "The commissary," exclaimed M. Pipelet, with fierce indignation, – "the commissary laughed in my teeth!"

      "At you, – СКАЧАТЬ