The Lesser Bourgeoisie by Honore de Balzac (best ereader for graphic novels TXT) 📕

gestures of authority altogether out of his usual habits of

deference and submission.

 

"It seems," said Brigitte, re-entering the salon, "that Thuillier

finds some great interest in that creature's talk, for he ordered me

bluntly to leave them, though the little old fellow did say, rather

civilly, that they would soon be through. But Jerome added: '_Mind_,

you are to wait for me.' Really, since he has taken to making

newspapers I don't know him; he has set up an air as if he were

leading the world with his wand."

 

"I am very much afraid he is being entangled by some adventurer," said

la Peyrade. "I am pretty sure I saw that old man at Madame de

Godollo's the day I went to warn her off the premises; he must be of

the same stripe."

 

"Why didn't you tell me?" cried Brigitte. "I'd have asked him for news

of the countess, and let him see we knew what we knew of his

Hungarian."

 

Just then the sound of moving chairs was heard, and Brigitte darted

back to the keyhole.

 

"Yes," she said, "he is really going, and Thuillier is bowing him out

respectfully!"

 

As Thuillier did not immediately return, Colleville had time to go to

the window and exclaim at seeing the little old gentleman driving away

in an elegant coupe, of which the reader has already heard.

 

"The deuce!" cried Colleville; "what an ornate livery! If he is an

adventurer he is a number one."

 

At last Thuillier re-entered the room, his face full of care, his

manner extremely grave.

 

"My dear la Peyrade," he said, "you did not tell us that another

proposal of marriage had been seriously considered by you."

 

"Yes, I did; I told you that a very rich heiress had been offered to

me, but that my inclinations were here, and that I had not given any

encouragement to the affair; consequently, of course, there was no

serious engagement."

 

"Well, I think you do wrong to treat that proposal so lightly."

 

"What! do you mean to say, in presence of these ladies, that you blame

me for remaining faithful to my first desires and our old engagement?"

 

"My friend, the conversation that I have just had has been a most

instructive one to me; and when you know what I know, with other

details personal to yourself, which will be confided to you, I think

that you will enter into my ideas. One thing is certain; we shall not

go to the notary to-day; and as for you, the best thing that you can

do is to go, without delay, to Monsieur du Portail."

 

"That name again! it pursues me like a remorse," exclaimed la Peyrade.

 

"Yes; go at once; he is awaiting you. It is an indispensable

preliminary before we can go any farther. When you have seen that

excellent man and heard what he has to say to you--well, _then_ if you

persist in claiming Celeste's hand, we might perhaps carry out our

plans. Until then we shall take no steps in the matter."

 

"But, my poor Thuillier," said Brigitte, "you have let yourself be

gammoned by a rascal; that man belongs to the Godollo set."

 

"Madame de Godollo," replied Thuillier, "is not at all what you

suppose her to be, and the best thing this house can do is never to

say one word about her, either good or evil. As for la Peyrade, as

this is not the first time he has been requested to go and see

Monsieur du Portail, I am surprised that he hesitates to do so."

 

"Ah ca!" said Brigitte, "that little old man has completely befooled

you."

 

"I tell you that that little old man is all that he appears to be. He

wears seven crosses, he drives in a splendid equipage, and he has told

me things that have overwhelmed me with astonishment."

 

"Well, perhaps he's a fortune-teller like Madame Fontaine, who managed

once upon a time to upset me when Madame Minard and I, just to amuse

ourselves, went to consult her."

 

"Well, if he is not a sorcerer he certainly has a very long arm," said

Thuillier, "and I think a man would suffer for it if he didn't respect

his advice. As for you, Brigitte, he saw you only for a minute, but he

told me your whole character; he said you were a masterful woman, born

to command."

 

"The fact is," said Brigitte, licking her chops at this compliment,

like a cat drinking cream, "he has a very well-bred air, that little

old fellow. You take my advice, my dear," she said, turning to la

Peyrade; "if such a very big-wig as that wants you to do so, go and

see this du Portail, whoever he is. That, it seems to me, won't bind

you to anything."

 

"You are right, Brigitte," said Colleville; "as for me, I'd follow up

all the Portails, or Port_ers_, or Port_ents_ for the matter of that, if

they asked me to."

 

The scene was beginning to resemble that in the "Barber of Seville,"

where everybody tells Basil to go to bed, for he certainly has a

fever. La Peyrade, thus prodded, picked up his hat in some ill-humor,

and went where his destiny called him,--"quo sua fata vocabant." 

CHAPTER XV (AT DU PORTAIL'S)

On reaching the rue Honore-Chevalier la Peyrade felt a doubt; the

dilapidated appearance of the house to which he was summoned made him

think he had mistaken the number. It seemed to him that a person of

Monsieur du Portail's evident importance could not inhabit such a

place. It was therefore with some hesitation that he accosted Sieur

Perrache, the porter. But no sooner had he entered the antechamber of

the apartment pointed out to him than the excellent deportment of

Bruneau, the old valet, and the extremely comfortable appearance of

the furniture and other appointments made him see that he was probably

in the right place. Introduced at once, as soon as he had given his

name, into the study of the master of the house, his surprise was

great when he found himself in presence of the commander, so called,

the friend of Madame de Godollo, and the little old man he had seen

half an hour earlier with Thuillier.

 

"At last!" said du Portail, rising, and offering la Peyrade a chair,

"at last we meet, my refractory friend; it has taken a good deal to

bring you here."

 

"May I know, monsieur," said la Peyrade, haughtily, not taking the

chair which was offered to him, "what interest you have in meddling

with my affairs? I do not know you, and I may add that the place where

I once saw you did not create an unconquerable desire in me to make

your acquaintance."

 

"Where have you seen me?" asked du Portail.

 

"In the apartment of a strumpet who called herself Madame de Godollo."

 

"Where monsieur, consequently, went himself," said the little old man,

"and for a purpose much less disinterested than mine."

 

"I have not come here," said la Peyrade, "to bandy words with any one.

I have the right, monsieur, to a full explanation as to the meaning of

your proceedings towards me. I therefore request you not to delay them

by a facetiousness to which, I assure you, I am not in the humor to

listen."

 

"Then, my dear fellow," said du Portail, "sit down, for I am not in

the humor to twist my neck by talking up at you."

 

The words were reasonable, and they were said in a tone that showed

the old gentleman was not likely to be frightened by grand airs. La

Peyrade therefore deferred to the wishes of his host, but he took care

to do so with the worst grace possible.

 

"Monsieur Cerizet," said du Portail, "a man of excellent standing in

the world, and who has the honor to be one of your friends--"

 

"I have nothing to do with that man now," said la Peyrade, sharply,

understanding the malicious meaning of the old man's speech.

 

"Well, the time has been," said du Portail, "when you saw him, at

least, occasionally: for instance, when you paid for his dinner at the

Rocher de Cancale. As I was saying, I charged the virtuous Monsieur

Cerizet to sound you as to a marriage--"

 

"Which I refused," interrupted la Peyrade, "and which I now refuse

again, more vehemently than ever."

 

"That's the question," said the old man. "I think, on the contrary,

that you will accept it; and it is to talk over this affair with you

that I have so long desired a meeting."

 

"But this crazy girl that you are flinging at my head," said la

Peyrade, "what is she to you? She can't be your daughter, or you would

put more decency into your hunt for a husband."

 

"This young girl," replied du Portail, "is the daughter of one of my

friends who died about ten years ago; at his death I took her to live

with me, and have given her all the care her sad condition needed. Her

fortune, which I have greatly increased, added to my own, which I

intend to leave to her, will make her a very rich heiress. I know that

you are no enemy to handsome 'dots,' for you have sought them in

various places,--Thuillier's house, for instance, or, to use your own

expression, that of a strumpet whom you scarcely knew. I have

therefore supposed you would accept at my hands a very rich young

woman, especially as her infirmity is declared by the best physicians

to be curable; whereas you can never cure Monsieur and Mademoiselle

Thuillier, the one of being a fool, the other of being a fury, any

more than you could cure Madame Komorn of being a woman of very medium

virtue and extremely giddy."

 

"It may suit me," replied la Peyrade, "to marry the daughter of a fool

and a fury if I choose her, or I might become the husband of a clever

coquette, if passion seized me, but the Queen of Sheba herself, if

imposed upon me, neither you, monsieur, nor the ablest and most

powerful man living could force me to accept."

 

"Precisely; therefore it is to your own good sense and intelligence

that I now address myself; but we have to come face to face with

people in order to speak to them, you know. Now, then, let us look

into your present situation, and don't get angry if, like a surgeon

who wants to cure his patient, I lay my hand mercilessly on wounds

which have long tormented and harassed you. The first point to state

is that the Celeste Colleville affair is at an end for you."

 

"Why so?" demanded la Peyrade.

 

"Because I have just seen Thuillier and terrified him with the history

of the misfortunes he has incurred, and those he will incur if he

persists in the idea of giving you his goddaughter in marriage. He

knows now that it was I who paralyzed Madame du Bruel's kind offices

in the matter of the cross; that I had his pamphlet seized; that I

sent that Hungarian woman into his house to handle you all, as she

did; and that my hand is opening fire in the ministerial journals,

which will only increase from bad to worse,--not to speak of other

machinations which will be directed against his candidacy. Therefore

you see, my good friend, that not only have you no longer the credit

in Thuillier's eyes of being his great helper to that election, but

that you actually block the way to his ambition. That is enough to

prove to you that the side by which you have imposed yourself on that

family--who have never sincerely liked or desired you--is now

completely battered down and dismantled."

 

"But to have done all that which you claim with such pretension, who

are you?" demanded la Peyrade.

 

"I shall not say that you are very inquisitive, for I intend to answer

your question later; but for the present let us continue, if you

please, the autopsy of your existence, dead to-day, but which I

propose to resuscitate gloriously. You are twenty-eight years old, and

you have begun a career in which I shall not allow you to make