第67章

The dinner at the Rocher de Cancale was exquisite.All Florine's supper guests were there except the Minister,the Duke,and the dancer;Camusot,too,was absent;but these gaps were filled by two famous actors and Hector Merlin and his mistress.This charming woman,who chose to be known as Mme.du Val-Noble,was the handsomest and most fashionable of the class of women now euphemistically styled lorettes.

Lucien had spent the forty-eight hours since the success of his article in paradise.He was feted and envied;he gained self-possession;his talk sparkled;he was the brilliant Lucien de Rubempre who shone for a few months in the world of letters and art.Finot,with his infallible instinct for discovering ability,scenting it afar as an ogre might scent human flesh,cajoled Lucien,and did his best to secure a recruit for the squadron under his command.And Coralie watched the manoeuvres of this purveyor of brains,saw that Lucien was nibbling at the bait,and tried to put him on his guard.

"Don't make any engagement,dear boy;wait.They want to exploit you;we will talk of it to-night."

"Pshaw!"said Lucien."I am sure I am quite as sharp and shrewd as they can be."Finot and Hector Merlin evidently had not fallen out over that affair of the white lines and spaces in the columns,for it was Finot who introduced Lucien to the journalist.Coralie and Mme.du Val-Noble were overwhelmingly amiable and polite to each other,and Mme.du Val-Noble asked Lucien and Coralie to dine with her.

Hector Merlin,short and thin,with lips always tightly compressed,was the most dangerous journalist present.Unbounded ambition and jealousy smouldered within him;he took pleasure in the pain of others,and fomented strife to turn it to his own account.His abilities were but slender,and he had little force of character,but the natural instinct which draws the upstart towards money and power served him as well as fixity of purpose.Lucien and Merlin at once took a dislike to one another,for reasons not far to seek.Merlin,unfortunately,proclaimed aloud the thoughts that Lucien kept to himself.By the time the dessert was put on the table,the most touching friendship appeared to prevail among the men,each one of whom in his heart thought himself a cleverer fellow than the rest;and Lucien as the newcomer was made much of by them all.They chatted frankly and unrestrainedly.Hector Merlin,alone,did not join in the laughter.Lucien asked the reason of his reserve.

"You are just entering the world of letters,I can see,"he said."You are a journalist with all your illusions left.You believe in friendship.Here we are friends or foes,as it happens;we strike down a friend with the weapon which by rights should only be turned against an enemy.You will find out,before very long,that fine sentiments will do nothing for you.If you are naturally kindly,learn to be ill-natured,to be consistently spiteful.If you have never heard this golden rule before,I give it you now in confidence,and it is no small secret.If you have a mind to be loved,never leave your mistress until you have made her shed a tear or two;and if you mean to make your way in literature,let other people continually feel your teeth;make no exception even of your friends;wound their susceptibilities,and everybody will fawn upon you."Hector Merlin watched Lucien as he spoke,saw that his words went to the neophyte's heart like a stab,and Hector Merlin was glad.Play followed,Lucien lost all his money,and Coralie brought him away;and he forgot for a while,in the delights of love,the fierce excitement of the gambler,which was to gain so strong a hold upon him.

When he left Coralie in the morning and returned to the Latin Quarter,he took out his purse and found the money he had lost.At first he felt miserable over the discovery,and thought of going back at once to return a gift which humiliated him;but--he had already come as far as the Rue de la Harpe;he would not return now that he had almost reached the Hotel de Cluny.He pondered over Coralie's forethought as he went,till he saw in it a proof of the maternal love which is blended with passion in women of her stamp.For Coralie and her like,passion includes every human affection.Lucien went from thought to thought,and argued himself into accepting the gift."I love her,"he said;"we shall live together as husband and wife;I will never forsake her!"What mortal,short of a Diogenes,could fail to understand Lucien's feelings as he climbed the dirty,fetid staircase to his lodging,turned the key that grated in the lock,and entered and looked round at the unswept brick floor,at the cheerless grate,at the ugly poverty and bareness of the room.

A package of manu was lying on the table.It was his novel;a note from Daniel d'Arthez lay beside it:--"Our friends are almost satisfied with your work,dear poet,"d'Arthez wrote."You will be able to present it with more confidence now,they say,to friends and enemies.We saw your charming article on the Panorama-Dramatique;you are sure to excite as much jealousy in the profession as regret among your friends here.

DANIEL."