"I don't want to hear anything about it; make your choice, Paris or Rome."
"Give me the journey-money, I will remain at Paris; but I will give a written engagement not to trouble you or your brother again. That should be sufficient."
"It is not for you to judge of that. Begone! I have neither the time nor the wish to listen to you. Remember, Paris without a farthing, or Rome with twenty-five louis."
Thereupon I called Clairmont, and told him to put the abbe out.
I was in a hurry to have done with the Corticelli affair, and went to the house in the Faubourg St. Antoine, where I found a kindly and intelligent-looking man and woman, and all the arrangements of the house satisfactory and appropriate to the performance of secret cures. I saw the room and the bath destined for the new boarder, everything was clean and neat, and I gave them a hundred crowns, for which they handed me a receipt. I told them that the lady would either come in the course of the day, or on the day following.
I went to dine with Madame d'Urfe and the young Count d'Aranda.
After dinner the worthy marchioness talked to me for a long time of her pregnancy, dwelling on her symptoms, and on the happiness that would be hers when the babe stirred within her. I had put to a strong restrain upon myself to avoid bursting out laughing. When I
had finished with her I went to the Corticelli, who called me her saviour and her guardian angel. I gave her two louis to get some linen out of pawn, and promised to come and see her before I left Paris, to give her a hundred crowns, which would take her back to Bologna. Then I waited on Madame du Rumain who had said farewell to society for three weeks.
This lady had an excellent heart, and was pretty as well, but she had so curious a society-manner that she often made me laugh most heartily. She talked of the sun and moon as if they were two Exalted Personages, to whom she was about to be presented. She was once discussing with me the state of the elect in heaven, and said that their greatest happiness was, no doubt, to love God to distraction, for she had no idea of calm and peaceful bliss.
I gave her the incense for the fumigation, and told her what psalms to recite, and then we had a delicious supper. She told her chamber-
maid to escort me at ten o'clock to a room on the second floor which she had furnished for me with the utmost luxury, adding,--
"Take care that the Chevalier de Seingalt is able to come into my room at five o'clock to-morrow."
At nine o'clock I placed her legs in a bath of lukewarm water, and taught her how to suffumigate. Her legs were moulded by the hand of the Graces and I wiped them amorously, laughing within myself at her expression of gratitude, and I then laid her in bed, contenting myself with a solemn kiss on her pretty forehead. When it was over I
went up to my room where I was waited on by the pretty maid, who performed her duties with that grace peculiar to the French soubrette, and told me that as I had become her mistress's chambermaid it was only right that she should be my valet. Her mirth was infectious, and I tried to make her sit down on my knee; but she fled away like a deer, telling me that I ought to take care of myself if I wanted to cut a good figure at five o'clock the next day. She was wrong, but appearances were certainly against us, and it is well known that servants do not give their masters and mistresses the benefit of the doubt.
At five o'clock in the morning I found Madame du Rumain nearly dressed when I went into her room, and we immediately went into another, from which the rising sun might have been see if the "Hotel de Bouillon" had not been in the way, but that, of course, was a matter of no consequence. Madame du Rumain performed the ceremonies with all the dignity of an ancient priestess of Baal. She then sat down to her piano, telling me that to find some occupation for the long morning of nine hours would prove the hardest of all the rules, for she did not dine till two, which was then the fashionable hour.
We had a meat breakfast without coffee, which I had proscribed, and I
left her, promising to call again before I left Paris.
When I got back to my inn, I found my brother there looking very uneasy at my absence at such an early hour. When I saw him I cried,--
"Rome or Paris, which is it to be?"
"Rome," he replied, cringingly.
"Wait in the antechamber. I will do your business for you."
When I had finished I called him in, and found my other brother and his wife, who said they had come to ask me to give them a dinner.
"Welcome!" said I. "You are come just in time to see me deal with the abbe, who has resolved at last to go to Rome and to follow my directions."
I sent Clairmont to the diligence office, and told him to book a place for Lyons; and then I wrote out five bills of exchange, of five louis each, on Lyons, Turin, Genoa, Florence, and Rome.
"Who is to assure me that these bills will be honoured?"
"I assure you, blockhead. If you don't like them you can leave them."
Clairmont brought the ticket for the diligence and I gave it to the abbe, telling him roughly to be gone.
"But I may dine with you, surely?" said he.
"No, I have done with you. Go and dine with Possano, as you are his accomplice in the horrible attempt he made to murder me. Clairmont, shew this man out, and never let him set foot here again."
No doubt more than one of my readers will pronounce my treatment of the abbe to have been barbarous; but putting aside the fact that I
owe no man an account of my thoughts, deeds, and words, nature had implanted in me a strong dislike to this brother of mine, and his conduct as a man and a priest, and, above all, his connivance with Possano, had made him so hateful to me that I should have watched him being hanged with the utmost indifference, not to say with the greatest pleasure. Let everyone have his own principles and his own passions, and my favourite passion has always been vengeance.
"What did you do with the girl he eloped with?" said my sister-in-
raw.
