A Start in Life [14]
7th artillery."
"Good!" said the count, writing down the number.
He had thought at one time of giving the management of the estate to
some retired army officer, about whom he could obtain exact
information from the minister of war.
"Madame," he resumed, ringing for his valet, "return to Presles, this
afternoon with my notary, who is going down there for dinner, and to
whom I have recommended you. Here is his address. I am going myself
secretly to Presles, and will send for Monsieur de Reybert to come and
speak to me."
It will thus be seen that Monsieur de Serizy's journey by a public
conveyance, and the injunction conveyed by the valet to conceal his
name and rank had not unnecessarily alarmed Pierrotin. That worthy had
just forebodings of a danger which was about to swoop down upon one of
his best customers.
CHAPTER III
THE TRAVELLERS
As Pierrotin issued from the Cafe de l'Echiquier, after treating the
valet, he saw in the gate-way of the Lion d'Argent the lady and the
young man in whom his perspicacity at once detected customers, for the
lady with outstretched neck and anxious face was evidently looking for
him. She was dressed in a black-silk gown that was dyed, a brown
bonnet, an old French cashmere shawl, raw-silk stockings, and low
shoes; and in her hand she carried a straw bag and a blue umbrella.
This woman, who had once been beautiful, seemed to be about forty
years of age; but her blue eyes, deprived of the fire which happiness
puts there, told plainly that she had long renounced the world. Her
dress, as well as her whole air and demeanor, indicated a mother
wholly devoted to her household and her son. If the strings of her
bonnet were faded, the shape betrayed that it was several years old.
The shawl was fastened by a broken needle converted into a pin by a
bead of sealing-wax. She was waiting impatiently for Pierrotin,
wishing to recommend to his special care her son, who was doubtless
travelling for the first time, and with whom she had come to the
coach-office as much from doubt of his ability as from maternal
affection.
This mother was in every way completed by the son, so that the son
would not be understood without the mother. If the mother condemned
herself to mended gloves, the son wore an olive-green coat with
sleeves too short for him, proving that he had grown, and might grow
still more, like other adults of eighteen or nineteen years of age.
The blue trousers, mended by his mother, presented to the eye a
brighter patch of color when the coat-tails maliciously parted behind
him.
"Don't rub your gloves that way, you'll spoil them," she was saying as
Pierrotin appeared. "Is this the conductor? Ah! Pierrotin, is it you?"
she exclaimed, leaving her son and taking the coachman apart a few
steps.
"I hope you're well, Madame Clapart," he replied, with an air that
expressed both respect and familiarity.
"Yes, Pierrotin, very well. Please take good care of my Oscar; he is
travelling alone for the first time."
"Oh! so he is going alone to Monsieur Moreau!" cried Pierrotin, for
the purpose of finding out whether he were really going there.
"Yes," said the mother.
"Then Madame Moreau is willing?" returned Pierrotin, with a sly look.
"Ah!" said the mother, "it will not be all roses for him, poor child!
But his future absolutely requires that I should send him."
This answer struck Pierrotin, who hesitated to confide his fears for
the steward to Madame Clapart, while she, on her part, was afraid of
injuring her boy if she asked Pierrotin for a care which might have
transformed him into a mentor. During this short deliberation, which
was ostensibly covered by a few phrases as to the weather, the
journey, and the stopping-places along the road, we will ourselves
explain what were the ties that united Madame Clapart with Pierrotin,
and authorized the two
"Good!" said the count, writing down the number.
He had thought at one time of giving the management of the estate to
some retired army officer, about whom he could obtain exact
information from the minister of war.
"Madame," he resumed, ringing for his valet, "return to Presles, this
afternoon with my notary, who is going down there for dinner, and to
whom I have recommended you. Here is his address. I am going myself
secretly to Presles, and will send for Monsieur de Reybert to come and
speak to me."
It will thus be seen that Monsieur de Serizy's journey by a public
conveyance, and the injunction conveyed by the valet to conceal his
name and rank had not unnecessarily alarmed Pierrotin. That worthy had
just forebodings of a danger which was about to swoop down upon one of
his best customers.
CHAPTER III
THE TRAVELLERS
As Pierrotin issued from the Cafe de l'Echiquier, after treating the
valet, he saw in the gate-way of the Lion d'Argent the lady and the
young man in whom his perspicacity at once detected customers, for the
lady with outstretched neck and anxious face was evidently looking for
him. She was dressed in a black-silk gown that was dyed, a brown
bonnet, an old French cashmere shawl, raw-silk stockings, and low
shoes; and in her hand she carried a straw bag and a blue umbrella.
This woman, who had once been beautiful, seemed to be about forty
years of age; but her blue eyes, deprived of the fire which happiness
puts there, told plainly that she had long renounced the world. Her
dress, as well as her whole air and demeanor, indicated a mother
wholly devoted to her household and her son. If the strings of her
bonnet were faded, the shape betrayed that it was several years old.
The shawl was fastened by a broken needle converted into a pin by a
bead of sealing-wax. She was waiting impatiently for Pierrotin,
wishing to recommend to his special care her son, who was doubtless
travelling for the first time, and with whom she had come to the
coach-office as much from doubt of his ability as from maternal
affection.
This mother was in every way completed by the son, so that the son
would not be understood without the mother. If the mother condemned
herself to mended gloves, the son wore an olive-green coat with
sleeves too short for him, proving that he had grown, and might grow
still more, like other adults of eighteen or nineteen years of age.
The blue trousers, mended by his mother, presented to the eye a
brighter patch of color when the coat-tails maliciously parted behind
him.
"Don't rub your gloves that way, you'll spoil them," she was saying as
Pierrotin appeared. "Is this the conductor? Ah! Pierrotin, is it you?"
she exclaimed, leaving her son and taking the coachman apart a few
steps.
"I hope you're well, Madame Clapart," he replied, with an air that
expressed both respect and familiarity.
"Yes, Pierrotin, very well. Please take good care of my Oscar; he is
travelling alone for the first time."
"Oh! so he is going alone to Monsieur Moreau!" cried Pierrotin, for
the purpose of finding out whether he were really going there.
"Yes," said the mother.
"Then Madame Moreau is willing?" returned Pierrotin, with a sly look.
"Ah!" said the mother, "it will not be all roses for him, poor child!
But his future absolutely requires that I should send him."
This answer struck Pierrotin, who hesitated to confide his fears for
the steward to Madame Clapart, while she, on her part, was afraid of
injuring her boy if she asked Pierrotin for a care which might have
transformed him into a mentor. During this short deliberation, which
was ostensibly covered by a few phrases as to the weather, the
journey, and the stopping-places along the road, we will ourselves
explain what were the ties that united Madame Clapart with Pierrotin,
and authorized the two