A Start in Life [6]
new coach was to start
on the morrow. By offering fifteen hundred francs, instead of the two
thousand five hundred still due, he was in hopes that the softened
carriage-builders would give him his coach. But after a few moments'
meditation, his feelings led him to cry out aloud:--
"No! they're dogs! harpies! Suppose I appeal to Monsieur Moreau, the
steward at Presles? he is such a kind man," thought Pierrotin, struck
with a new idea. "Perhaps he would take my note for six months."
At this moment a footman in livery, carrying a leather portmanteau and
coming from the Touchard establishment, where he had gone too late to
secure places as far as Chambly, came up and said:--
"Are you Pierrotin?"
"Say on," replied Pierrotin.
"If you would wait a quarter of an hour, you could take my master. If
not, I'll carry back the portmanteau and try to find some other
conveyance."
"I'll wait two, three quarters, and throw a little in besides, my
lad," said Pierrotin, eyeing the pretty leather trunk, well buckled,
and bearing a brass plate with a coat of arms.
"Very good; then take this," said the valet, ridding his shoulder of
the trunk, which Pierrotin lifted, weighed, and examined.
"Here," he said to his porter, "wrap it up carefully in soft hay and
put it in the boot. There's no name upon it," he added.
"Monseigneur's arms are there," replied the valet.
"Monseigneur! Come and take a glass," said Pierrotin, nodding toward
the Cafe de l'Echiquier, whither he conducted the valet. "Waiter, two
absinthes!" he said, as he entered. "Who is your master? and where is
he going? I have never seen you before," said Pierrotin to the valet
as they touched glasses.
"There's a good reason for that," said the footman. "My master only
goes into your parts about once a year, and then in his own carriage.
He prefers the valley d'Orge, where he has the most beautiful park in
the neighborhood of Paris, a perfect Versailles, a family estate of
which he bears the name. Don't you know Monsieur Moreau?"
"The steward of Presles?"
"Yes. Monsieur le Comte is going down to spend a couple of days with
him."
"Ha! then I'm to carry Monsieur le Comte de Serizy!" cried the coach-
proprietor.
"Yes, my land, neither more nor less. But listen! here's a special
order. If you have any of the country neighbors in your coach you are
not to call him Monsieur le comte; he wants to travel 'en cognito,'
and told me to be sure to say he would pay a handsome pourboire if he
was not recognized."
"So! Has this secret journey anything to do with the affair which Pere
Leger, the farmer at the Moulineaux, came to Paris the other day to
settle?"
"I don't know," replied the valet, "but the fat's in the fire. Last
night I was sent to the stable to order the Daumont carriage to be
ready to go to Presles at seven this morning. But when seven o'clock
came, Monsieur le comte countermanded it. Augustin, his valet de
chambre, attributes the change to the visit of a lady who called last
night, and again this morning,--he thought she came from the country."
"Could she have told him anything against Monsieur Moreau?--the best
of men, the most honest of men, a king of men, hey! He might have made
a deal more than he has out of his position, if he'd chosen; I can
tell you that."
"Then he was foolish," answered the valet, sententiously.
"Is Monsieur le Serizy going to live at Presles at last?" asked
Pierrotin; "for you know they have just repaired and refurnished the
chateau. Do you think it is true he has already spent two hundred
thousand francs upon it?"
"If you or I had half what he has spent upon it, you and I would be
rich bourgeois. If Madame la comtesse goes there--ha! I tell you what!
no more ease and comfort for the Moreaus," said the valet, with an air
of mystery.
"He's a worthy man, Monsieur Moreau," remarked
on the morrow. By offering fifteen hundred francs, instead of the two
thousand five hundred still due, he was in hopes that the softened
carriage-builders would give him his coach. But after a few moments'
meditation, his feelings led him to cry out aloud:--
"No! they're dogs! harpies! Suppose I appeal to Monsieur Moreau, the
steward at Presles? he is such a kind man," thought Pierrotin, struck
with a new idea. "Perhaps he would take my note for six months."
At this moment a footman in livery, carrying a leather portmanteau and
coming from the Touchard establishment, where he had gone too late to
secure places as far as Chambly, came up and said:--
"Are you Pierrotin?"
"Say on," replied Pierrotin.
"If you would wait a quarter of an hour, you could take my master. If
not, I'll carry back the portmanteau and try to find some other
conveyance."
"I'll wait two, three quarters, and throw a little in besides, my
lad," said Pierrotin, eyeing the pretty leather trunk, well buckled,
and bearing a brass plate with a coat of arms.
"Very good; then take this," said the valet, ridding his shoulder of
the trunk, which Pierrotin lifted, weighed, and examined.
"Here," he said to his porter, "wrap it up carefully in soft hay and
put it in the boot. There's no name upon it," he added.
"Monseigneur's arms are there," replied the valet.
"Monseigneur! Come and take a glass," said Pierrotin, nodding toward
the Cafe de l'Echiquier, whither he conducted the valet. "Waiter, two
absinthes!" he said, as he entered. "Who is your master? and where is
he going? I have never seen you before," said Pierrotin to the valet
as they touched glasses.
"There's a good reason for that," said the footman. "My master only
goes into your parts about once a year, and then in his own carriage.
He prefers the valley d'Orge, where he has the most beautiful park in
the neighborhood of Paris, a perfect Versailles, a family estate of
which he bears the name. Don't you know Monsieur Moreau?"
"The steward of Presles?"
"Yes. Monsieur le Comte is going down to spend a couple of days with
him."
"Ha! then I'm to carry Monsieur le Comte de Serizy!" cried the coach-
proprietor.
"Yes, my land, neither more nor less. But listen! here's a special
order. If you have any of the country neighbors in your coach you are
not to call him Monsieur le comte; he wants to travel 'en cognito,'
and told me to be sure to say he would pay a handsome pourboire if he
was not recognized."
"So! Has this secret journey anything to do with the affair which Pere
Leger, the farmer at the Moulineaux, came to Paris the other day to
settle?"
"I don't know," replied the valet, "but the fat's in the fire. Last
night I was sent to the stable to order the Daumont carriage to be
ready to go to Presles at seven this morning. But when seven o'clock
came, Monsieur le comte countermanded it. Augustin, his valet de
chambre, attributes the change to the visit of a lady who called last
night, and again this morning,--he thought she came from the country."
"Could she have told him anything against Monsieur Moreau?--the best
of men, the most honest of men, a king of men, hey! He might have made
a deal more than he has out of his position, if he'd chosen; I can
tell you that."
"Then he was foolish," answered the valet, sententiously.
"Is Monsieur le Serizy going to live at Presles at last?" asked
Pierrotin; "for you know they have just repaired and refurnished the
chateau. Do you think it is true he has already spent two hundred
thousand francs upon it?"
"If you or I had half what he has spent upon it, you and I would be
rich bourgeois. If Madame la comtesse goes there--ha! I tell you what!
no more ease and comfort for the Moreaus," said the valet, with an air
of mystery.
"He's a worthy man, Monsieur Moreau," remarked