"Even if Cecile had nothing to expect from her grandfather Grevin,"continued Madame Beauvisage, "she would not marry without first consulting him.If you have any proposals to make, go and see my father.""Very good; I will go," said Madame Marion.
Madame Beauvisage made a sign to Cecile, and together they left the salon.
The next day Antonin and Frederic Marest found themselves, according to their usual custom, with Monsieur Martener and Olivier, beneath the lindens of the Avenue of Sighs, smoking their cigars and walking up and down.This daily promenade is one of the petty pleasures of government officials in the provinces when they happen to be on good terms with one another.
After they had made a few turns, Simon Giguet came up and joined them saying to the sub-prefect with a mysterious air:--"You ought to be faithful to an old comrade who wishes to get you the rosette of an officer and a prefecture.""You are beginning your political career betimes," said Antonin, laughing."You are trying to corrupt me, rapid puritan!""Will you support me?"
"My dear fellow, you know very well that Bar-sur-Aube votes here.Who can guarantee a majority under such circumstances? My colleague of Bar-sur-Aube would complain of me if I did not unite my efforts with his in support of the government.Your promise is conditional; whereas my dismissal would be certain.""But I have no competitors."
"You think so," said Antonin, "but some one is sure to turn up; you may rely on that.""Why doesn't my aunt come, when she knows I am on a gridiron!"exclaimed Giguet, suddenly."These three hours are like three years!"His secret had escaped him and he now admitted to his friend that Madame Marion had gone on his behalf to old Grevin with a formal proposal for Cecile's hand.
The pair had now reached the Brienne road opposite to the Mulet hostelry.While the lawyer looked down the street towards the bridge his aunt would have to cross, the sub-prefect examined the gullies made by the rain in the open square.Arcis is not paved.The plains of Champagne furnish no material fit for building, nor even pebbles large enough for cobble-stone pavements.One or two streets and a few detached places are imperfectly macadamized and that is saying enough to describe their condition after a rain.The sub-prefect gave himself an appearance of occupation by apparently exercising his thoughts on this important object; but he lost not a single expression of suffering on the anxious face of his companion.
At this moment, the stranger was returning from the Chateau de Cinq-Cygne, where he had apparently passed the night.Goulard resolved to clear up, himself, the mystery wrapped about the Unknown, who was physically enveloped in an overcoat of thick cloth called a paletot, then the fashion.A mantle, thrown across his knees for a covering, hid the lower half of his body, while an enormous muffler of red cashmere covered his neck and head to the eyes.His hat, jauntily tipped to one side, was, nevertheless, not ridiculous.Never was a mystery more mysteriously bundled up and swathed.
"Look out!" cried the tiger, who preceded the tilbury on horseback.
"Open, papa Poupart, open!" he screamed in his shrill little voice.
The three servants of the inn ran out, and the tilbury drove in without any one being able to see a single feature of the stranger's face.The sub-prefect followed the tilbury into the courtyard, and went to the door of the inn.
"Madame Poupart," said Antonin, "will you ask Monsieur--Monsieur--""I don't know his name," said Gothard's sister.
"You do wrong! The rules of the police are strict, and Monsieur Groslier doesn't trifle, like some commissaries of police.""Innkeepers are never to blame about election-time," remarked the little tiger, getting off his horse.
"I'll repeat that to Vinet," thought the sub-prefect."Go and ask your master if he can receive the sub-prefect of Arcis."Presently Paradise returned.
"Monsieur begs Monsieur the sub-prefect to come up; he will be delighted to see him.""My lad," said Olivier Vinet, who with the two other functionaries had joined the sub-prefect before the inn, "how much does your master give a year for a boy of your cut and wits?""Give, monsieur! What do you take me for? Monsieur le comte lets himself be milked, and I'm content.""That boy was raised in a good school!" said Frederic Marest.
"The highest school, monsieur," said the urchin, amazing the four friends with his perfect self-possession.
"What a Figaro!" cried Vinet.
"Mustn't lower one's price," said the infant."My master calls me a little Robert-Macaire, and since we have learned how to invest our money we are Figaro, plus a savings bank.""How much do you earn?"
"Oh! some races I make two or three thousand francs--and without selling my master, monsieur.""Sublime infant!" said Vinet; "he knows the turf.""Yes, and all gentlemen riders," said the child, sticking out his tongue at Vinet.
Antonin Goulard, ushered by the landlord into a room which had been turned into a salon, felt himself instantly under the focus of an eyeglass held in the most impertinent manner by the stranger.
"Monsieur," said the sub-prefect with a certain official hauteur, "Ihave just learned from the wife of the innkeeper that you refuse to conform to the ordinances of the police, and as I do not doubt that you are a person of distinction, I have come myself--""Is your name Goulard?" demanded the stranger in a high voice.
"I am the sub-prefect, monsieur," replied Antonin Goulard.
"Your father belonged to the Simeuse family?""And I, monsieur, belong to the government; that is how times differ.""You have a servant named Julien, who has tried to entice the Princesse de Cadignan's maid away from her?""Monsieur, I do not allow any one to speak to me in this manner," said Goulard; "you misunderstand my character.""And you want to know about mine!" returned the Unknown."Well, I will now make myself known.You can write in the landlord's book:
