La Mere Bauche | Page 7

for Marie Clavert; and after
the fourth day she acknowledged that the world of the hotel, her world,
would not go as well without Marie Clavert as it would with her. And
in the next place Madame Bauche had a friend whose advice in grave
matters she would sometimes take. This friend had told her that it
would be much better to send away Adolphe, since it was so necessary
that there should be a sending away of some one; that he would be
much benefited by passing some months of his life away from his
native valley; and that an absence of a year or two would teach him to
forget Marie, even if it did not teach Marie to forget him.
And we must say a word or two about this friend. At Vernet he was
usually called M. le Capitaine, though in fact he had never reached that
rank. He had been in the army, and having been wounded in the leg
while still a sous-lieutenant, had been pensioned, and had thus been
interdicted from treading any further the thorny path that leads to glory.
For the last fifteen years he had resided under the roof of Madame
Bauche, at first as a casual visitor, going and coming, but now for many
years as constant there as she was herself.
He was so constantly called Le Capitaine that his real name was seldom
heard. It may however as well be known to us that this was Theodore
Campan. He was a tall, well-looking man; always dressed in black
garments, of a coarse description certainly, but scrupulously clean and
well brushed; of perhaps fifty years of age, and conspicuous for the
rigid uprightness of his back--and for a black wooden leg.
This wooden leg was perhaps the most remarkable trait in his character.
It was always jet black, being painted, or polished, or japanned, as
occasion might require, by the hands of the capitaine himself. It was

longer than ordinary wooden legs, as indeed the capitaine was longer
than ordinary men; but nevertheless it never seemed in any way to
impede the rigid punctilious propriety of his movements. It was never
in his way as wooden legs usually are in the way of their wearers. And
then to render it more illustrious it had round its middle, round the calf
of the leg we may so say, a band of bright brass which shone like
burnished gold.
It had been the capitaine's custom, now for some years past, to retire
every evening at about seven o'clock into the sanctum sanctorum of
Madame Bauche's habitation, the dark little private sitting-room in
which she made out her bills and calculated her profits, and there regale
himself in her presence--and indeed at her expense, for the items never
appeared in the bill--with coffee and cognac. I have said that there was
never eating or drinking at the establishment after the regular
dinner-hours; but in so saying I spoke of the world at large. Nothing
further was allowed in the way of trade; but in the way of friendship so
much was now-a-days always allowed to the capitaine.
It was at these moments that Madame Bauche discussed her private
affairs, and asked for and received advice. For even Madame Bauche
was mortal; nor could her green spectacles without other aid carry her
through all the troubles of life. It was now five years since the world of
Vernet discovered that La Mere Bauche was going to marry the
capitaine; and for eighteen months the world of Vernet had been full of
this matter: but any amount of patience is at last exhausted, and as no
further steps in that direction were ever taken beyond the daily cup of
coffee, that subject died away--very much unheeded by La Mere
Bauche.
But she, though she thought of no matrimony for herself, thought much
of matrimony for other people; and over most of those cups of evening
coffee and cognac a matrimonial project was discussed in these latter
days. It has been seen that the capitaine pleaded in Marie's favour when
the fury of Madame Bauche's indignation broke forth; and that
ultimately Marie was kept at home, and Adolphe sent away by his
advice.
"But Adolphe cannot always stay away," Madame Bauche had pleaded
in her difficulty. The truth of this the capitaine had admitted; but Marie,
he said, might be married to some one else before two years were over.

And so the matter had commenced.
But to whom should she be married? To this question the capitaine had
answered in perfect innocence of heart, that La Mere Bauche would be
much better able to make such a choice than himself. He did not know
how Marie might stand with regard to money. If madame would