The salon soon filled with persons who knew nothing of the government proceedings. Du Bruel did not appear. Madame Rabourdin was gayer and more graceful than ever, like the charger wounded in battle, that still finds strength to carry his master from the field.
"She is very courageous," said a few women who knew the truth, and who were charmingly attentive to her, understanding her misfortunes.
"But she certainly did a great deal to attract des Lupeaulx," said the Baronne du Chatelet to the Vicomtesse de Fontaine.
"Do you think--" began the vicomtesse.
"If so," interrupted Madame de Camps, in defence of her friend, "Monsieur Rabourdin would at least have had the cross."About eleven o'clock des Lupeaulx appeared; and we can only describe him by saying that his spectacles were sad and his eyes joyous; the glasses, however, obscured the glances so successfully that only a physiognomist would have seen the diabolical expression which they wore. He went up to Rabourdin and pressed the hand which the latter could not avoid giving him.
Then he approached Madame Rabourdin.
"We have much to say to each other," he remarked as he seated himself beside the beautiful woman, who received him admirably.
"Ah!" he continued, giving her a side glance, "you are grand indeed; Ifind you just what I expected, glorious under defeat. Do you know that it is a very rare thing to find a superior woman who answers to the expectations formed of her. So defeat doesn't dishearten you? You are right; we shall triumph in the end," he whispered in her ear. "Your fate is always in your own hands,--so long, I mean, as your ally is a man who adores you. We will hold counsel together.""But is Baudoyer appointed?" she asked.
"Yes," said the secretary.
"Does he get the cross?"
"Not yet; but he will have it later."
"Amazing!"
"Ah! you don't understand political exigencies."During this evening, which seemed interminable to Madame Rabourdin, another scene was occurring in the place Royale,--one of those comedies which are played in seven Parisian salons whenever there is a change of ministry. The Saillards' salon was crowded. Monsieur and Madame Transon arrived at eight o'clock; Madame Transon kissed Madame Baudoyer, nee Saillard. Monsieur Bataille, captain of the National Guard, came with his wife and the curate of Saint Paul's.
"Monsieur Baudoyer," said Madame Transon. "I wish to be the first to congratulate you; they have done justice to your talents. You have indeed earned your promotion.""Here you are, director," said Monsieur Transon, rubbing his hands, "and the appointment is very flattering to this neighborhood.""And we can truly say it came to pass without any intriguing," said the worthy Saillard. "We are none of us political intriguers; WE don't go to select parties at the ministry."Uncle Mitral rubbed his nose and grinned as he glanced at his niece Elisabeth, the woman whose hand had pulled the wires, who was talking with Gigonnet. Falleix, honest fellow, did not know what to make of the stupid blindness of Saillard and Baudoyer. Messieurs Dutocq, Bixiou, du Bruel, Godard, and Colleville (the latter appointed head of the bureau) entered.
"What a crew!" whispered Bixiou to du Bruel. "I could make a fine caricature of them in the shapes of fishes,--dorys, flounders, sharks, and snappers, all dancing a saraband!""Monsieur," said Colleville, "I come to offer you my congratulations;or rather we congratulate ourselves in having such a man placed over us; and we desire to assure you of the zeal with which we shall co-operate in your labors. Allow me to say that this event affords a signal proof to the truth of my axiom that a man's destiny lies in the letters of his name. I may say that I knew of this appointment and of your other honors before I heard of them, for I spend the night in anagrammatizing your name as follows:" [proudly] "Isidore C. T.
Baudoyer,--Director, decorated by us (his Majesty the King, of course)."Baudoyer bowed and remarked piously that names were given in baptism.
Monsieur and Madame Baudoyer, senior, father and mother of the new director, were there to enjoy the glory of their son and daughter-in-law. Uncle Gigonnet-Bidault, who had dined at the house, had a restless, fidgety look in his eye which frightened Bixiou.
"There's a queer one," said the latter to du Bruel, calling his attention to Gigonnet, "who would do in a vaudeville. I wonder if he could be bought. Such an old scarecrow is just the thing for a sign over the Two Baboons. And what a coat! I did think there was nobody but Poiret who could show the like after that after ten years' public exposure to the inclemencies of Parisian weather.""Baudoyer is magnificent," said du Bruel.
"Dazzling," answered Bixiou.
"Gentlemen," said Baudoyer, "let me present you to my own uncle, Monsieur Mitral, and to my great-uncle through my wife, Monsieur Bidault."Gigonnet and Mitral gave a glance at the three clerks so penetrating, so glittering with gleams of gold, that the two scoffers were sobered at once.
"Hein?" said Bixiou, when they were safely under the arcades in the place Royale; "did you examine those uncles?--two copies of Shylock.
I'll bet their money is lent in the market at a hundred per cent per week. They lend on pawn; and sell most that they lay hold of, coats, gold lace, cheese, men, women, and children; they are a conglomeration of Arabs, Jews, Genoese, Genevese, Greeks, Lombards, and Parisians, suckled by a wolf and born of a Turkish woman.""I believe you," said Godard. "Uncle Mitral used to be a sheriff's officer.""That settles it," said du Bruel.
"I'm off to see the proof of my caricature," said Bixiou; "but Ishould like to study the state of things in Rabourdin's salon to-night. You are lucky to be able to go there, du Bruel.""I!" said the vaudevillist, "what should I do there? My face doesn't lend itself to condolences. And it is very vulgar in these days to go and see people who are down."
