The Wandering Jew — Complete
tip of her little nose, down which a tear was trickling, "you may tell
me that you did not know where I had taken up my quarters. It's a queer
story, I can tell you. When I say queer," added Rose-Pompon, with a deep
sigh, "it is quite the contrary--but no matter: I need not trouble you
with that. One thing is certain; you are getting better--and you and
Cephyse will not do such a thing again. She is said to be very weak. Can
I not see her yet, M. Agricola?
"No," said the smith, with embarrassment, for Mother Bunch kept her eyes
fixed upon him; "you must have patience."
"But I may see her to-day, Agricola?" exclaimed the hunchback.
"We will talk about that. Only be calm, I entreat."
"Agricola is right; you must be reasonable, my good dear," resumed Rose
Pompon; "we will wait patiently. I can wait too, for I have to talk
presently to this lady;" and Rose-Pompon glanced at Adrienne with the
expression of an angry cat. "Yes, yes; I can wait; for I long to tell
Cephyse also that she may reckon upon me." Here Rose-Pompon bridled up
very prettily, and thus continued, "Do not be uneasy! It is the least
one can do, when one is in a good position, to share the advantages with
one's friends, who are not so well off. It would be a fine thing to keep
one's happiness to one's self! to stuff it with straw, and put it under
a glass, and let no one touch it! When I talk of happiness, it's only
to make talk; it is true in one sense; but to another, you see, my good
dear--Bah! I am only seventeen--but no matter--I might go on talking
till tomorrow, and you would not be any the wiser. So let me kiss you
once more, and don't be down-hearted--nor Cephyse either, do you hear?
for I shall be close at hand."
And, stooping still lower, Rose-Pompon cordially embraced Mother Bunch.
It is impossible to express what Mdlle. de Cardoville felt during this
conversation, or rather during this monologue of the grisette on the
subject of the attempted suicide. The eccentric jargon of Mdlle. Rose
Pompon, her liberal facility in disposing of Philemon's bazaar, to the
owner of which (as she said) she was luckily not married--the goodness
of her heart, which revealed itself in her offers of service--her
contrasts, her impertinence, her drollery--all this was so new and
inexplicable to Mdlle. de Cardoville, that she remained for some time
mute and motionless with surprise. Such, then, was the creature to whom
Djalma had sacrificed her!
If Adrienne's first impression at sight of Rose-Pompon had been horribly
painful, reflection soon awakened doubts, which were to become shortly
ineffable hopes. Remembering the interview she had overheard between
Rodin and Djalma, when, concealed in the conservatory, she had wished
to prove the Jesuit's fidelity, Adrienne, asked herself if it was
reasonable, if it was possible to believe, that the prince, whose ideas
of love seemed to be so poetical, so elevated, so pure, could find any
charm in the disjointed and silly chat of this young girl? Adrienne
could not hesitate; she pronounced the thing impossible, from the moment
she had seen her rival near, and witnessed her style both of manners
and conversation, which, without detracting from the prettiness of
her features, gave them a trivial and not very attractive character.
Adrienne's doubts with regard to the deep love of the prince for Rose
Pompon were hence soon changed to complete incredulity. Endowed with
too much sense and penetration, not to perceive that this apparent
connection, so inconceivable on the part of Djalma, must conceal some
mystery, Mdlle. de Cardoville felt her hopes revive. As this consoling
thought arose in her mind, her heart, until now so painfully oppressed,
began once more to dilate; she felt vague aspirations towards a better
future; and yet, cruelly warned by the past, she feared to yield too
readily to a mere illusion, for she remembered the notorious fact that
the prince had really appeared in public with this girl. But now that
Mdlle. de Cardoville could fully appreciate what she was, she found the
conduct of the prince only the more incomprehensible. And how can we
judge soundly and surely of that which is enveloped in mystery? And then
a secret presentiment told her, that it would, perhaps, be beside the
couch of the poor sempstress, whom she had just saved from death, that,
by a providential coincidence, she would learn the secret on which
depended the happiness of her life.
The emotions which agitated she heart of Adrienne, became so violent,
that her fine face was flushed with a bright red, her bosom heaved, and
her large, black eyes, lately dimmed by sadness, once more shone with a
mild radiance. She waited with inexpressible impatience for what was to
follow. In the interview, with which Rose-Pompon had threatened her,
and which a few minutes before Adrienne would have declined with all the
dignity of legitimate indignation, she now hoped to find the explanation
of a mystery, which it was of such importance for her to clear up. After
once more tenderly embracing Mother Bunch, Rose-Pompon got up from the
ground, and, turning towards Adrienne, eyed her from head to foot, with
the utmost coolness, and said to her, in a somewhat impertinent tone:
"It is now our turn, madame"--the word "madame" still pronounced
with the accent before described--"we have a little matter to settle
together."
"I am at your order," answered Adrienne, with much mildness and
simplicity.
At sight of the triumphant and decisive air of Rose-Pompon, and on
hearing her challenge to Mdlle. de Cardoville, the worthy Agricola,
after exchanging a few words with Mother Bunch, opened his eyes and ears
very wide, and remained staring in amazement at the effrontery of the
grisette; then, advancing towards her, he whispered, as he plucked her
by the sleeve: "I say, are you mad? Do you know to whom you speak?"
"Well! what then? Is not one pretty woman worth another! I say that for
the lady. She will not eat me, I suppose," replied Rose-Pompon, aloud,
and with an air of defiance. "I have to talk with madame, here. I am
sure, she knows why and wherefore. If not, I will tell her; it will not
take me long."
Adrienne, who feared some ridiculous exposure on the subject of Djalma,
in the presence of Agricola, made a sign to the latter, and thus
answered the grisette: "I am ready to hear you, miss, but not in this
place. You will understand why."
"Very well, madame, I have my key. You can come to any apartments"--the
last word pronounced with an air of ostentatious importance.
"Let us go then to your apartments, miss since you to me the honor to
receive me there," answered Mdlle. de Cardoville, in her mild, sweet
voice, and with a slight inclination of the head, so full of exquisite
politeness, that Rose-Pompon was daunted, notwithstanding all her
effrontery.
"What, lady!" said Agricola to Adrienne; "you are good enough--"
"M. Agricola," said Mdlle. de Cardoville, interrupting him, "please to
remain with our poor friend: I shall soon be back."
Then, approaching Mother Bunch, who shared in Agricola's astonishment
she said to her: "Excuse me for leaving you a few seconds. Only regain a
little strength, and, when I return, I will take you home with me, dear
sister."
Then, turning towards Rose-Pompon, who was more and more surprised at
hearing so fine a lady call the workgirl her sister, she added: "I am
ready whenever you please, mademoiselle."
"Beg pardon, madame, if I go first to show you the way, but it's a
regular break-neck sort of a place," answered Rose-Pompon, pressing her
elbows to her sides, and screwing up her lips to prove that she was no
stranger to polite manners and fine language. And the two rivals quitted
the garret together, leaving Agricola alone with Mother Bunch.
Luckily, the disfigured remains of the Bacchanal Queen had been
carried into Mother Arsene's subterraneous shop, so that the crowd of
spectators, always attracted by any fatal event, had assembled in front
of the house; and Rose-Pompon, meeting no one in the little court she
had to traverse with Adrienne, continued in ignorance of the tragical
death of her old friend Cephyse. In a few moments the grisette and
Mdlle. de Cardoville had reached Philemon's apartment. This singular
abode remained in the same state of picturesque disorder in which
Rose-Pompon had left it, when Ninny Moulin came to fetch her to act the
heroine of a mysterious adventure.
Adrienne, completely ignorant of the eccentric modes of life of students
and their companions, could not, in spite of the thoughts which occupied
her mind, forebear examining, with a mixture of surprise and curiosity,
this strange and grotesque chaos, composed of the most dissimilar
objects--disguises for masked balls, skulls with pipes in their mouths,
odd boots standing on book shelves, monstrous bottles, women's clothes,
ends of tobacco pipes, etc., etc. To the first astonishment of Adrienne
succeeded an impression of painful repugnance. The young lady felt
herself uneasy and out of place in this abode, not of poverty, but
disorder; whilst, on the contrary, the sewing-girl's miserable garret
had caused her no such feeling.
Rose-Pompon, notwithstanding all her airs, was considerably troubled
when she found herself alone with Mdlle, de Cardoville; the rare beauty
of the young patrician, her fashionable look, the elegance of her
manners, the style, both dignified and affable, with which she had
answered the impertinent address of the grisette, began to have their
effect upon the latter, who, being moreover a good-natured girl, had
been touched at hearing Mdlle. de Cardoville call the hunchback "friend
and sister." Without knowing exactly who Adrienne was, Rose-Pompon
was not ignorant that she belonged to the richest and highest class
of society; she felt already some remorse at having attacked her so
cavalierly; and her intentions, at first very hostile with regard to
Mdlle. de Cardoville, were gradually much modified. Yet, being very
obstinate, and not wishing to appear to submit to an influence that
offended her pride, Rose-Pompon endeavored to recover her assurance;
and, having bolted the door, she said to Adrienne: "Pray do me the favor
to sit down, madame"--still with the intention of showing that she was
no stranger to refined manners and conversation.
Mdlle. de Cardoville was about mechanically to take a chair, when Rose
Pompon, worthy to practise those ancient virtues of hospitality, which
regarded even an enemy as sacred in the person of a guest, cried out
hastily: "Don't take that chair, madame; it wants a leg."
Adrienne laid her hand on another chair.
"Nor that either; the back is quite loose," again exclaimed Rose-Pompon.
And she spoke the truth; for the chair-back, which was made in the form
of a lyre, remained in the hands of Mdlle. de Cardoville, who said, as
she replaced it discreetly in its former position: "I think, miss, that
we can very well talk standing."
"As you please, madame," replied Rose-Pompon, steadying herself the more
bravely the more uneasy she felt. And the interview of the lady and the
grisette began in this fashion.
CHAPTER XXXVI. THE INTERVIEW.
After a minute's hesitation, Rose-Pompon said to Adrienne, whose heart
was beating violently: "I will tell you directly, madame, what I have
on my mind. I should not have gone out of my way to seek you, but, as I
happen to fall in with you, it is very natural I should take advantage
of it."
"But, miss," said Adrienne, mildly, "may I at least know the subject of
the conversation we are to have together?"
"Yes, madame," replied Rose-Pompon, affecting an air of still more
decided confidence; "first of all, you must not suppose I am unhappy, or