"Papa Camusot!"said Coralie,looking at him with cruel scorn,"have the courage of your pitiful baseness.Come,speak out!You think that this gentleman's boots are very like mine,do you not?--I forbid you to take off your boots,"she added,turning to Lucien.--"Yes,M.
Camusot.Yes,you saw some boots lying about in the fender here the other day,and that is the identical pair,and this gentleman was hiding in my dressing-room at the time,waiting for them;and he had passed the night here.That was what you were thinking,hein?Think so;I would rather you did.It is the simple truth.I am deceiving you.And if I am?I do it to please myself."She sat down.There was no anger in her face,no embarrassment;she looked from Camusot to Lucien.The two men avoided each other's eyes.
"I will believe nothing that you do not wish me to believe,"said Camusot."Don't play with me,Coralie;I was wrong----""I am either a shameless baggage that has taken a sudden fancy;or a poor,unhappy girl who feels what love really is for the first time,the love that all women long for.And whichever way it is,you must leave me or take me as I am,"she said,with a queenly gesture that crushed Camusot.
"Is it really true?"he asked,seeing from their faces that this was no jest,yet begging to be deceived.
"I love mademoiselle,"Lucien faltered out.
At that word,Coralie sprang to her poet and held him tightly to her;then,with her arms still about him,she turned to the silk-mercer,as if to bid him see the beautiful picture made by two young lovers.
"Poor Musot,take all that you gave to me back again;I do not want to keep anything of yours;for I love this boy here madly,not for his intellect,but for his beauty.I would rather starve with him than have millions with you."Camusot sank into a low chair,hid his face in his hands,and said not a word.
"Would you like us to go away?"she asked.There was a note of ferocity in her voice which no words can describe.
Cold chills ran down Lucien's spine;he beheld himself burdened with a woman,an actress,and a household.
"Stay here,Coralie;keep it all,"the old tradesman said at last,in a faint,unsteady voice that came from his heart;"I don't want anything back.There is the worth of sixty thousand francs here in the furniture;but I could not bear to think of my Coralie in want.And yet,it will not be long before you come to want.However great this gentleman's talent may be,he can't afford to keep you.We old fellows must expect this sort of thing.Coralie,let me come and see you sometimes;I may be of use to you.And--I confess it;I cannot live without you."The poor man's gentleness,stripped as he was of his happiness just as happiness had reached its height,touched Lucien deeply.Coralie was quite unsoftened by it.
"Come as often as you wish,poor Musot,"she said;"I shall like you all the better when I don't pretend to love you."Camusot seemed to be resigned to his fate so long as he was not driven out of the earthly paradise,in which his life could not have been all joy;he trusted to the chances of life in Paris and to the temptations that would beset Lucien's path;he would wait a while,and all that had been his should be his again.Sooner or later,thought the wily tradesman,this handsome young fellow would be unfaithful;he would keep a watch on him;and the better to do this and use his opportunity with Coralie,he would be their friend.The persistent passion that could consent to such humiliation terrified Lucien.Camusot's proposal of a dinner at Very's in the Palais Royal was accepted.
"What joy!"cried Coralie,as soon as Camusot had departed."You will not go back now to your garret in the Latin Quarter;you will live here.We shall always be together.You can take a room in the Rue Charlot for the sake of appearances,and vogue le galere!"She began to dance her Spanish dance,with an excited eagerness that revealed the strength of the passion in her heart.
"If I work hard I may make five hundred francs a month,"Lucien said.
"And I shall make as much again at the theatre,without counting extras.Camusot will pay for my dresses as before.He is fond of me!
We can live like Croesus on fifteen hundred francs a month.""And the horses?and the coachman?and the footman?"inquired Berenice.
"I will get into debt,"said Coralie.And she began to dance with Lucien.
"I must close with Finot after this,"Lucien exclaimed.
"There!"said Coralie,"I will dress and take you to your office.Iwill wait outside in the boulevard for you with the carriage."Lucien sat down on the sofa and made some very sober reflections as he watched Coralie at her toilet.It would have been wiser to leave Coralie free than to start all at once with such an establishment;but Coralie was there before his eyes,and Coralie was so lovely,so graceful,so bewitching,that the more picturesque aspects of bohemia were in evidence;and he flung down the gauntlet to fortune.
Berenice was ordered to superintend Lucien's removal and installation;and Coralie,triumphant,radiant,and happy,carried off her love,her poet,and must needs go all over Paris on the way to the Rue Saint-Fiacre.Lucien sprang lightly up the staircase,and entered the office with an air of being quite at home.Coloquinte was there with the stamped paper still on his head;and old Giroudeau told him again,hypocritically enough,that no one had yet come in.
"But the editor and contributors MUST meet somewhere or other to arrange about the journal,"said Lucien.
"Very likely;but I have nothing to do with the writing of the paper,"said the Emperor's captain,resuming his occupation of checking off wrappers with his eternal broum!broum!
Was it lucky or unlucky?Finot chanced to come in at that very moment to announce his sham abdication and to bid Giroudeau watch over his interests.
"No shilly-shally with this gentleman;he is on the staff,"Finot added for his uncle's benefit,as he grasped Lucien by the hand.
