At the Sign of the Cat Racket | Page 6

bargain, thanks to this
arrangement, which had made it a proverb among the traders of the Rue
Saint-Denis: "Heaven preserve you from Monsieur Guillaume's
notary!" to signify a heavy discount.
The old merchant was to be seen standing on the threshold of his shop,
as if by a miracle, the instant the servant withdrew. Monsieur
Guillaume looked at the Rue Saint-Denis, at the neighboring shops, and
at the weather, like a man disembarking at Havre, and seeing France
once more after a long voyage. Having convinced himself that nothing
had changed while he was asleep, he presently perceived the stranger
on guard, and he, on his part, gazed at the patriarchal draper as
Humboldt may have scrutinized the first electric eel he saw in America.
Monsieur Guillaume wore loose black velvet breeches, pepper- and-salt
stockings, and square toed shoes with silver buckles. His coat, with
square-cut fronts, square-cut tails, and square-cut collar clothed his
slightly bent figure in greenish cloth, finished with white metal buttons,
tawny from wear. His gray hair was so accurately combed and flattened
over his yellow pate that it made it look like a furrowed field. His little
green eyes, that might have been pierced with a gimlet, flashed beneath
arches faintly tinged with red in the place of eyebrows. Anxieties had
wrinkled his forehead with as many horizontal lines as there were
creases in his coat. This colorless face expressed patience, commercial
shrewdness, and the sort of wily cupidity which is needful in business.
At that time these old families were less rare than they are now, in
which the characteristic habits and costume of their calling, surviving
in the midst of more recent civilization, were preserved as cherished
traditions, like the antediluvian remains found by Cuvier in the
quarries.
The head of the Guillaume family was a notable upholder of ancient
practices; he might be heard to regret the Provost of Merchants, and

never did he mention a decision of the Tribunal of Commerce without
calling it the /Sentence of the Consuls/. Up and dressed the first of the
household, in obedience, no doubt, to these old customs, he stood
sternly awaiting the appearance of his three assistants, ready to scold
them in case they were late. These young disciples of Mercury knew
nothing more terrible than the wordless assiduity with which the master
scrutinized their faces and their movements on Monday in search of
evidence or traces of their pranks. But at this moment the old clothier
paid no heed to his apprentices; he was absorbed in trying to divine the
motive of the anxious looks which the young man in silk stockings and
a cloak cast alternately at his signboard and into the depths of his shop.
The daylight was now brighter, and enabled the stranger to discern the
cashier's corner enclosed by a railing and screened by old green silk
curtains, where were kept the immense ledgers, the silent oracles of the
house. The too inquisitive gazer seemed to covet this little nook, and to
be taking the plan of a dining-room at one side, lighted by a skylight,
whence the family at meals could easily see the smallest incident that
might occur at the shop-door. So much affection for his dwelling
seemed suspicious to a trader who had lived long enough to remember
the law of maximum prices; Monsieur Guillaume naturally thought that
this sinister personage had an eye to the till of the Cat and Racket.
After quietly observing the mute duel which was going on between his
master and the stranger, the eldest of the apprentices, having seen that
the young man was stealthily watching the windows of the third floor,
ventured to place himself on the stone flag where Monsieur Guillaume
was standing. He took two steps out into the street, raised his head, and
fancied that he caught sight of Mademoiselle Augustine Guillaume in
hasty retreat. The draper, annoyed by his assistant's perspicacity, shot a
side glance at him; but the draper and his amorous apprentice were
suddenly relieved from the fears which the young man's presence had
excited in their minds. He hailed a hackney cab on its way to a
neighboring stand, and jumped into it with an air of affected
indifference. This departure was a balm to the hearts of the other two
lads, who had been somewhat uneasy as to meeting the victim of their
practical joke.
"Well, gentlemen, what ails you that you are standing there with your
arms folded?" said Monsieur Guillaume to his three neophytes. "In

former days, bless you, when I was in Master Chevrel's service, I
should have overhauled more than two pieces of cloth by this time."
"Then it was daylight earlier," said the second assistant, whose duty
this was.
The old shopkeeper could not help smiling. Though