"After dinner he pushed away the decanter presented to him, observing that he was going to burn some brandy in his coffee later on.Iasked him tremblingly whether he would not prefer to have his coffee at once.He was very suspicious, and not at all dull of comprehension--my Uncle Victor.My precipitation seemed to him in very bad taste; for he looked at me in a peculiar way, and said, "'Patience! my nephew.It isn't the business of the baby of the regiment to sound the retreat! Devil take it! You must be in a great hurry, Master Pedant, to see if I've got spurs on my boots!'
"It was evident the captain had divined that I wanted him to go.
And I knew him well enough to be sure that he was going to stay.
He stayed.The least circumstances of that evening remain impressed on my memory.My uncle was extremely jovial.The mere idea of being in somebody's way was enough to keep him in good humour.He told us, in regular barrack style, ma foi! a certain story about a monk, a trumpet, and five bottles of Chambertin, which must have been much enjoyed in the garrison society, but which I would not venture to repeat to you, Madame, even if I could remember it.When we passed into the parlour, the captain called attention to the bad condition of our andirons, and learnedly discoursed on the merits of rotten-stone as a brass-polisher.Not a word on the subject of politics.He was husbanding his forces.
Eight o'clock sounded from the ruins of Carthage on the mantlepiece.
It was Monsieur de Lessay's hour.A few moments later he entered the parlour with his daughter.The ordinary evening chat began.
Clementine sat down and began to work on some embroidery beside the lamp, whose shade left her pretty head in a soft shadow, and threw down upon her fingers a radiance that made them seem almost self-luminous.Monsieur de Lessay spoke of a comet announced by the astronomers, and developed some theories in relation to the subject, which, however audacious, betrayed at least a certain degree of intellectual culture.My father, who knew a good deal about astronomy, advanced some sound ideas of his own, which he ended up with his eternal, 'But what do we know about it, after all?' In my turn I cited the opinion of our neighbour of the Observatory--the great Arago.My Uncle Victor declared that comets had a peculiar influence on the quality of wines, and related in support of this view a jolly tavern-story.I was so delighted with the turn the conversation had taken that I did all in my power to maintain it in the same groove, with the help of my most recent studies, by a long exposition of the chemical composition of those nebulous bodies which, although extending over a length of billions of leagues, could be contained in a small bottle.My father, a little surprised at my unusual eloquence, watched me with his peculiar, placid, ironical smile.But one cannot always remain in heaven.I spoke, as I looked at Clementine, of a certain comete of diamonds, which I had been admiring in a jeweller's window the evening before.It was a most unfortunate inspiration of mine.
"'Ah! my nephew,' cried Uncle Victor, that "comete" of yours was nothing to the one which the Empress Josephine wore in her hair when she came to Strasburg to distribute crosses to the army.'
"'That little Josephine was very fond of finery and display,'
observed Monsieur de Lessay, between two sips of coffee.'I do not blame her for it; she had good qualities, though rather frivolous in character.She was a Tascher, and she conferred a great honour on Bonaparte by marrying him.To say a Tascher does not, of course, mean a great deal; but to say a Bonaparte simply means nothing at all.'
"'What do you mean by that, Monsieur the Marquis?' demanded Captain Victor.
"'I am not a marquis,' dryly responded Monsieur de Lessay; 'and Imean simply that Bonaparte would have been very well suited had he married one of those cannibal women described by Captain Cook in his voyages--naked, tattooed, with a ring in her nose--devouring with delight putrefied human flesh.'
"I had foreseen it, and in my anguish (O pitiful human heart!) my first idea was about the remarkable exactness of my anticipations.
I must say that the captain's reply belonged to the sublime order.
He put his arms akimbo, eyed Monsieur de Lessay contemptuously from head to food, and said, "'Napoleon, Monsieur the Vidame, had another spouse besides Josephine, another spouse besides Marie-Louise.that companion you know nothing of; but I have seen her, close to me.She wears a mantle of azure gemmed with stars; she is crowned with laurels; the Cross-of-Honour flames upon her breast.Her name is GLORY!'
"Monsieur de Lessay set his cup on the mantlepiece and quietly observed, "'Your Bonaparte was a blackguard!'
"My father rose up calmly, extended his arm, and said very softly to Monsieur de Lessay, "Whatever the man was who died at St.Helena, I worked for ten years in his government, and my brother-in-law was three times wounded under his eagles.I beg of you, dear sir and friend, never to forget these facts in future.'
"What the sublime and burlesque insolence of the captain could not do, the courteous remonstrance of my father effected immediately, throwing Monsieur de Lessay into a furious passion.
"'I did forget,' he exclaimed, between his set teeth, livid in his rage, and fairly foaming at the mouth; 'the herring-cask always smells of herring and when one has been in the service of rascals---'
"As he uttered the word, the Captain sprang at his throat; I am sure he would have strangled him upon the spot but for his daughter and me.
"My father, a little paler than his wont, stood there with his arms folded, and watched the scene with a look of inexpressible pity.
What followed was still more lamentable--but why dwell further upon the folly of two old men.Finally I succeeded in separating them.
Monsieur de Lessay made a sign to his daughter and left the room.
As she was following him, I ran out into the stairway after her.
