The Mysteries of Paris, vol 3 | Page 6

are, gentlemen; but it is a
trifle, actually a trifle, compared with what has just occurred."
"You don't say so!" said another.
"Is the notary crazy enough to invite us to dine every day, at his
expense, at the Cadran-Bleu?"
"And give us tickets to the play, after dinner?"
"And after that, take us to the café, to round off with punch?"
"And after that a la--"
"Gentlemen, just as far as you please; but the scene which I have just
observed is more frightful than funny."
"Give us the scene, I beg of you."
"That's right; don't trouble yourself about the breakfast--we are all
ears."
"And all jaws! I see through you, my pretties! while I am speaking,
your teeth will be in motion, and the turkey would be finished before
my story. Be patient; I will reserve it for the dessert."
We do not know whether it was the goad of hunger or curiosity that
stimulated the mastication of the young limbs of the law, but the
breakfast was so rapidly completed, that the moment for the story
arrived immediately.
Not to be surprised by the governor, they sent the office-boy, on whom
the carcass and claws of the turkey had been most liberally bestowed,
as a sentry into the neighboring room.
The head clerk said to his colleagues, "In the first place, you must

know that, for some days past the porter has been alarmed about
master's health. As the good man sits up very late, he has seen M.
Ferrand go down to the garden in the night in spite of the cold and rain,
and walk up and down rapidly. He ventured to leave his nest, and ask
his master if he had need of anything. The governor sent him to bed in
such a tone that, since then, the porter has kept himself quiet, and he
will keep himself so always, as soon as he hears the governor descend
to the garden, which happens every night, no matter what weather."
"The old boy is, perhaps, a somnambulist?"
"Not probable; but such nocturnal promenades announce great agitation.
I arrive at my story: just now, I went in to get some signatures. At the
moment I placed my hand on the lock, I thought I heard some one
speak. I stopped, and distinguished two or three dull cries, like stifled
sobs. After having hesitated to enter for a moment, fearing some
misfortune, I opened the door."
"Well?"
"What did I see? The governor on his knees, on the floor."
"On his knees?"
"On the floor?"
"Yes, kneeling on the floor, his face in his hands and Us elbows on the
seat of one of his old arm-chairs."
"It is very plain. What fools we are! He is so bigoted, he was making an
extra prayer."
"In any case, it would be a funny prayer! Nothing could be heard but
stifled groans, only from time to time he murmured, between his teeth,
'Lord, lord!' like a man in a state of despair. Seeing this, I did not know
whether I ought to remain or to retire."
"That would have been also my political opinion."

"I remained, therefore, very much embarrassed, when he rose and
turned suddenly. He had between his teeth an old pocket-handkerchief;
his spectacles remained on the chair. In all my life I have never seen
such a face: he had the appearance of a lost soul. I drew back,
alarmed--on my word of honor, alarmed! Then he--"
"Caught you by the throat?"
"You are out there. He looked at me, at first, with a bewildered air; then,
letting his handkerchief fall, which he had, doubtless, gnawed and torn
in grinding his teeth, he cried, throwing himself into my arms, 'Oh! I
am very unhappy!'"
"Draw it mild!"
"Fact! Well, in spite of his death's-head look, when he pronounced
these words his voice was so heart-rending--I would say, almost so
soft--"
"So soft? Get out. There is not a rattle, nor Tom-cat with a cold, whose
sounds would not be music alongside his voice."
"It is possible; that did not prevent it from being so plaintive at that
time that I felt myself quite affected; so much the more as M. Ferrand
is not habitually communicative. 'Sir,' said I, 'I believe that.' 'Leave me!
leave me!' he answered, interrupting me; 'to tell your sufferings to
another is a great solace.' Evidently he took me for some one else."
"So familiar? Then you owe us two bottles of Bordeaux:
"'When one's master is not proud One must freely treat the crowd.'
It is the proverb that speaks; it is sacred. Proverbs are the wisdom of a
nation."
"Come, Chalamel, leave your proverbs alone. You comprehend, that,
on hearing that, I at once understood that he was mistaken, or