A Start in Life [32]
francs more, won't take fifteen
hundred down, and my note for a thousand for two months! Those
vultures want it all. Who ever heard of being so stiff with a man in
business these eight years, and the father of a family?--making me run
the risk of losing everything, carriage and money too, if I can't find
before to-morrow night that miserable last thousand! Hue, Bichette!
They won't play that trick on the great coach offices, I'll warrant
you."
"Yes, that's it," said the rapin; "'your money or your strife.'"
"Well, you have only eight hundred now to get," remarked the count,
who considered this moan, addressed to Pere Leger, a sort of letter of
credit drawn upon himself.
"True," said Pierrotin. "Xi! xi! Rougeot!"
"You must have seen many fine ceilings in Venice," resumed the count,
addressing Schinner.
"I was too much in love to take any notice of what seemed to me then
mere trifles," replied Schinner. "But I was soon cured of that folly,
for it was in the Venetian states--in Dalmatia--that I received a
cruel lesson."
"Can it be told?" asked Georges. "I know Dalmatia very well."
"Well, if you have been there, you know that all the people at that
end of the Adriatic are pirates, rovers, corsairs retired from
business, as they haven't been hanged--"
"Uscoques," said Georges.
Hearing the right name given, the count, who had been sent by Napoleon
on one occasion to the Illyrian provinces, turned his head and looked
at Georges, so surprised was he.
"The affair happened in that town where they make maraschino,"
continued Schinner, seeming to search for a name.
"Zara," said Georges. "I've been there; it is on the coast."
"You are right," said the painter. "I had gone there to look at the
country, for I adore scenery. I've longed a score of times to paint
landscape, which no one, as I think, understands but Mistigris, who
will some day reproduce Hobbema, Ruysdael, Claude Lorrain, Poussin,
and others."
"But," exclaimed the count, "if he reproduces one of them won't that
be enough?"
"If you persist in interrupting, monsieur," said Oscar, "we shall
never get on."
"And Monsieur Schinner was not addressing himself to you in
particular," added Georges.
"'Tisn't polite to interrupt," said Mistigris, sententiously, "but we
all do it, and conversation would lose a great deal if we didn't
scatter little condiments while exchanging our reflections. Therefore,
continue, agreeable old gentleman, to lecture us, if you like. It is
done in the best society, and you know the proverb: 'we must 'owl with
the wolves.'"
"I had heard marvellous things of Dalmatia," resumed Schinner, "so I
went there, leaving Mistigris in Venice at an inn--"
"'Locanda,'" interposed Mistigris; "keep to the local color."
"Zara is what is called a country town--"
"Yes," said Georges; "but it is fortified."
"Parbleu!" said Schinner; "the fortifications count for much in my
adventure. At Zara there are a great many apothecaries. I lodged with
one. In foreign countries everybody makes a principal business of
letting lodgings; all other trades are accessory. In the evening,
linen changed, I sat in my balcony. In the opposite balcony I saw a
woman; oh! such a woman! Greek,--THAT TELLS ALL! The most beautiful
creature in the town; almond eyes, lids that dropped like curtains,
lashes like a paint-brush, a face with an oval to drive Raffaelle mad,
a skin of the most delicious coloring, tints well-blended, velvety!
and hands, oh!--"
"They weren't made of butter like those of the David school," put in
Mistigris.
"You are always lugging in your painting," cried Georges.
"La, la!" retorted Mistigris; "'an ounce o' paint is worth a pound of
swagger.'"
"And such a costume! pure Greek!" continued Schinner. "Conflagration
of soul! you understand? Well, I questioned my Diafoirus; and he told
hundred down, and my note for a thousand for two months! Those
vultures want it all. Who ever heard of being so stiff with a man in
business these eight years, and the father of a family?--making me run
the risk of losing everything, carriage and money too, if I can't find
before to-morrow night that miserable last thousand! Hue, Bichette!
They won't play that trick on the great coach offices, I'll warrant
you."
"Yes, that's it," said the rapin; "'your money or your strife.'"
"Well, you have only eight hundred now to get," remarked the count,
who considered this moan, addressed to Pere Leger, a sort of letter of
credit drawn upon himself.
"True," said Pierrotin. "Xi! xi! Rougeot!"
"You must have seen many fine ceilings in Venice," resumed the count,
addressing Schinner.
"I was too much in love to take any notice of what seemed to me then
mere trifles," replied Schinner. "But I was soon cured of that folly,
for it was in the Venetian states--in Dalmatia--that I received a
cruel lesson."
"Can it be told?" asked Georges. "I know Dalmatia very well."
"Well, if you have been there, you know that all the people at that
end of the Adriatic are pirates, rovers, corsairs retired from
business, as they haven't been hanged--"
"Uscoques," said Georges.
Hearing the right name given, the count, who had been sent by Napoleon
on one occasion to the Illyrian provinces, turned his head and looked
at Georges, so surprised was he.
"The affair happened in that town where they make maraschino,"
continued Schinner, seeming to search for a name.
"Zara," said Georges. "I've been there; it is on the coast."
"You are right," said the painter. "I had gone there to look at the
country, for I adore scenery. I've longed a score of times to paint
landscape, which no one, as I think, understands but Mistigris, who
will some day reproduce Hobbema, Ruysdael, Claude Lorrain, Poussin,
and others."
"But," exclaimed the count, "if he reproduces one of them won't that
be enough?"
"If you persist in interrupting, monsieur," said Oscar, "we shall
never get on."
"And Monsieur Schinner was not addressing himself to you in
particular," added Georges.
"'Tisn't polite to interrupt," said Mistigris, sententiously, "but we
all do it, and conversation would lose a great deal if we didn't
scatter little condiments while exchanging our reflections. Therefore,
continue, agreeable old gentleman, to lecture us, if you like. It is
done in the best society, and you know the proverb: 'we must 'owl with
the wolves.'"
"I had heard marvellous things of Dalmatia," resumed Schinner, "so I
went there, leaving Mistigris in Venice at an inn--"
"'Locanda,'" interposed Mistigris; "keep to the local color."
"Zara is what is called a country town--"
"Yes," said Georges; "but it is fortified."
"Parbleu!" said Schinner; "the fortifications count for much in my
adventure. At Zara there are a great many apothecaries. I lodged with
one. In foreign countries everybody makes a principal business of
letting lodgings; all other trades are accessory. In the evening,
linen changed, I sat in my balcony. In the opposite balcony I saw a
woman; oh! such a woman! Greek,--THAT TELLS ALL! The most beautiful
creature in the town; almond eyes, lids that dropped like curtains,
lashes like a paint-brush, a face with an oval to drive Raffaelle mad,
a skin of the most delicious coloring, tints well-blended, velvety!
and hands, oh!--"
"They weren't made of butter like those of the David school," put in
Mistigris.
"You are always lugging in your painting," cried Georges.
"La, la!" retorted Mistigris; "'an ounce o' paint is worth a pound of
swagger.'"
"And such a costume! pure Greek!" continued Schinner. "Conflagration
of soul! you understand? Well, I questioned my Diafoirus; and he told