第134章 THE STRANGE CITY(4)
- The Crossing
- Winston Churchill
- 4524字
- 2016-03-03 16:32:13
It was a sufficiently embarrassing situation.I put on a bold front, however, and not deigning to answer, pushed past him and walked with as much leisure as possible along the banquette in the direction which Nick had taken.As I turned the corner I glanced over my shoulder, and in the darkness I could just make out the man standing where I had left him.In great uneasiness Ipursued my way, my imagination summing up for Nick all kinds of adventures with disagreeable consequences.
I walked for some time--it may have been half an hour --aimlessly, and finally decided it would be best to go back to Madame Bouvet's and await the issue with as much calmness as possible.He might not, after all, have caught the fellow.
There were few people in the dark streets, but at length I met a man who gave me directions, and presently found my way back to my lodging place.Talk and laughter floated through the latticed windows into the street, and when I had pushed back the curtain and looked into the saloon I found the same gaming party at the end of it, sitting in their shirt-sleeves amidst the moths and insects that hovered around the candles.
``Ah, Monsieur,'' said Madame Bouvet's voice behind me, ``you must excuse them.They will come here and play, the young gentlemen, and I cannot find it in my heart to drive them away, though sometimes I lose a respectable lodger by their noise.But, after all, what would you?'' she added with a shrug; ``I love them, the young men.But, Monsieur,'' she cried, ``you have had no supper! And where is Monsieur your companion?
Comme il est beau garcon!''
``He will be in presently,'' I answered with unwarranted assumption.
Madame shot at me the swiftest of glances and laughed, and I suspected that she divined Nick's propensity for adventure.However, she said nothing more than to bid me sit down at the table, and presently Zoey came in with lights and strange, highly seasoned dishes, which I ate with avidity, notwithstanding my uneasiness of mind, watching the while the party at the far end of the room.
There were five young gentlemen playing a game Iknew not, with intervals of intense silence, and boisterous laughter and execrations while the cards were being shuffled and the money rang on the board and glasses were being filled from a stand at one side.Presently Madame Bouvet returned, and placing before me a cup of wondrous coffee, advanced down the room towards them.
``Ah, Messieurs,'' she cried, ``you will ruin my poor house.''
The five rose and bowed with marked profundity.
One of them, with a puffy, weak, good-natured face, answered her briskly, and after a little raillery she came back to me.I had a question not over discreet on my tongue's tip.
``There are some fine residences going up here, Madame,''
I said.
``Since the fire, Monsieur, the dreadful fire of Good Friday a year ago.You admire them?''
``I saw one,'' I answered with indifference, ``with a wall and lions on the gate-posts--''
``Mon Dieu, that is a house,'' exclaimed Madame; ``it belongs to Monsieur de Saint-Gre.''
``To Monsieur de Saint-Gre!'' I repeated.
She shot a look at me.She had bright little eyes like a bird's, that shone in the candlelight.
``You know him, Monsieur?''
``I heard of him in St.Louis,'' I answered.
``You will meet him, no doubt,'' she continued.``He is a very fine gentleman.His grandfather was Commissary-general of the colony, and he himself is a cousin of the Marquis de Saint-Gre, who has two chateaux, a house in Paris, and is a favorite of the King.'' She paused, as if to let this impress itself upon me, and added archly, ``Tenez, Monsieur, there is a daughter--''
She stopped abruptly.
I followed her glance, and my first impression--of claret-color--gave me a shock.My second confirmed it, for in the semi-darkness beyond the rays of the candle was a thin, eager face, prematurely lined, with coal-black, lustrous eyes that spoke eloquently of indulgence.In an instant I knew it to be that of the young man whom Ihad seen on the levee.
``Monsieur Auguste?'' stammered Madame.
``Bon soir, Madame,'' he cried gayly, with a bow;``diable, they are already at it, I see, and the punch in the bowl.I will win back to-night what I have lost by a week of accursed luck.''
``Monsieur your father has relented, perhaps,'' said Madame, deferentially.
``Relented!'' cried the young man, ``not a sou.C'est egal! I have the means here,'' and he tapped his pocket, ``I have the means here to set me on my feet again, Madame.''
He spoke with a note of triumph, and Madame took a curious step towards him.
``Qu'est-ce-que c'est, Monsieur Auguste?'' she inquired.
He drew something that glittered from his pocket and beckoned to her to follow him down the room, which she did with alacrity.
``Ha, Adolphe,'' he cried to the young man of the puffy face, ``I will have my revenge to-night.Voila!!'' and he held up the shining thing, ``this goes to the highest bidder, and you will agree that it is worth a pretty sum.''
They rose from their chairs and clustered around him at the table, Madame in their midst, staring with bent heads at the trinket which he held to the light.It was Madame's voice I heard first, in a kind of frightened cry.
``Mon Dieu, Monsieur Auguste, you will not part with that!'' she exclaimed.
``Why not?'' demanded the young man, indifferently.
``It was painted by Boze, the back is solid gold, and the Jew in the Rue Toulouse will give me four hundred livres for it to-morrow morning.''