A Cardinal Sin Part 9

Having offered Louis a formidable piece of bread, the old man helped himself to a crust, and both father and son bravely attacked the meager meal, with robust appet.i.tes, sprinkling it plentifully with glorious draughts of clear water.

"Tell me all about your journey now, my boy," resumed the old man, when he had satisfied the first pangs of hunger.

"Really, father, there is not much to tell," remarked Louis. "The notary had given me copies of several deeds, which M. Ramon was to read. Well, he read and studied them most leisurely, taking five whole days! after which the said papers were given back to me, profusely annotated by that wary parsonage, and--thank heaven--here I am at last!"

"Thank heaven?--can it be that you were lonely at Dreux?" queried the old man, looking up anxiously.

"I was bored to death, my dear father."

"What kind of a man must this M. Ramon be, that you were so displeased?"

"The very worst kind in the world--a miser."

"Hum! hum!" coughed the old man, as if swallowing a disagreeable dose.

"So he is a miser? He must be rich then?"

"I don't know, but one may be as avaricious with a small fortune as with a great one; and if we are to measure M. Ramon's wealth by his parsimony, he must be a triple millionaire--such a wretched old miser!"

continued Louis, contemptuously, biting into his bread with a sort of frenzy.

"Had you been brought up in luxury and abundance, I might understand your recriminations against this old miser--as you call him," rejoined old Richard, testily, "but we have always lived in such poverty that, however miserly M. Ramon may be, you must have found but little difference between his manner of existence and our own."

"But you don't understand me, father. M. Ramon keeps two servants, and we have none; he occupies a whole house and we live in one attic room; he has three or four dishes for his dinner, while we eat anything we may chance to have. And yet, we live a hundred times better than this greedy personage!"

"I really don't understand you, my child," returned the father, more and more annoyed at his son's opinion of his late host. "There can certainly be no comparison between that gentleman's luxury and our poverty."

"My dear father, we are veritably poor, at least! We cheerfully endure our privations; and if in my days of ambition, I have sometimes dreamed of a more comfortable existence, it was not for myself, you may rest a.s.sured, for I am perfectly satisfied with my fate."

"I know your kind heart, my dear boy, as well as your love for me; and my only consolation in our poverty is to know that you do not complain of your condition."

"Complain! do you not share it with me? and then, after all, what more could we want?"

"We might want a little more comfort."

"Upon my word, I don't see it in that light, father. We don't eat stuffed chicken, it is true; but we eat all we want and with appet.i.te--witness this empty paper and the disappearance of the four-pound loaf between us. Our clothes are shabby and worn, but they are warm; our room is up five nights of stairs, but it shelters us; we earn from sixteen to eighteen hundred francs per annum between us--the sum is not enormous, but it suffices; we have no debts! Ah! my dear father, may heaven never send us worse days, and I shall never complain."

"My dear boy, I cannot tell you how happy it makes me to hear you speak thus, and to see you accept your fate so bravely. Tell me the truth--have you--have you always been happy?"

"Very happy."

"Truly?"

"Why should I try to deceive you? Now, my dear father, have you ever seen me gloomy or thoughtful? do I look like a discontented person?"

"You are endowed with such an excellent character!"

"Oh, that depends on circ.u.mstances! If, for instance, I were obliged to live with M. Ramon, that abominable griping miser, I should certainly become unbearable, unmanageable and frantic!"

"What can you have against that poor man?"

"All the ferocious resentment and rancour gathered during five days of torture!"

"Torture?"

"What else can it be, to inhabit a large dilapidated house, so empty, so cold and gloomy, that a tomb would be a cheerful dwelling in comparison? And then, to see the two wan, emaciated servants coming and going like shadows in this sepulchre; to a.s.sist at those meals--and what meals, great heavens!--where the master of the house seems to count the bites you swallow! And such a daughter!--for the wretch has a daughter, alas! and, his race may perhaps be perpetuated. It is she who lays aside the servants' insufficient shares and puts the remains of the meager meal under lock and key! All I can say is that, notwithstanding my usual good appet.i.te, five minutes at that table sufficed to disgust me. For one is either one thing or the other; if rich, avarice is contemptible; if poor, it is stupid to attempt any display."

"My dear Louis, I find you strangely hostile to this poor man and his daughter--you who are always so kind and benevolent!"

"His daughter! do you call that a daughter?"

"What in the devil do you mean! do you take her for a monster?"

"I don't take her for a woman."

"My dear boy, you must have taken leave of your senses!"

"But, my dear father, what would, you call a tall, dry creature, growling and snarling, with hands and feet like a man, a face like a nut-cracker, and a nose--great heavens, what a nose!--as long as this knife, and red as a brick! But to be just, I must admit that this incomparable creature has yellow hair and black teeth."

"The portrait is not flattering; but all women cannot be equally beautiful. A kind heart is often better than a pretty face; and as for me, ugliness has always inspired me with pity."

"I will say that I was much inclined to pity her when I saw her disagreeable face at first, especially as she was condemned to live with a man as greedy as her father; but when I saw that red-nosed creature eternally nagging and growling at those two unhappy servants, measure their food, and rival with her father in avarice, my first impulse of compa.s.sion was immediately turned to aversion for that wicked red-nose. Notwithstanding my good nature, I felt a strong temptation to contradict and annoy this red-nose; but, fearing to compromise my employer's interests, I kept my peace and swallowed my rancour."

"And you are relieving your mind with a vengeance.

"Ah! what a relief, after five long days of that red-nose!"

"You are painfully prejudiced, my son; I would wager that this lady, who appears so miserly and detestable in your eyes, is merely a woman of firm character and economical habits."

"Well, it matters little to me what she is! Only, I must say, there seems to exist singular contrasts in certain families."

"What do you mean?"

"Imagine my surprise in discovering in one of the rooms of this dull house, the portrait of a woman so beautiful, charming and distingue, that it seemed placed there expressly to continually mock and scoff at that wicked red nose. The portrait so closely resembled one of my old cla.s.s-mates, that I could not refrain from questioning the old miser about it. He then gruffly informed me that the original was his sister, Madame de Saint-Herem, who died some years since. But you would have died laughing had you seen them when I asked if she had left a son."

"Well, what did they do?"

"At the name of young Saint-Herem you would have thought I had evoked the devil. Red-nose grew fiery and fairly glowed; while her worthy father admitted, with a withering glance at me, that he had the misfortune, in fact, to be the uncle of an infernal young bandit known as Saint-Herem."

"This young man must bear a very bad reputation."

"Florestan?--why, he is the n.o.blest and most charming fellow in the world!"

"But his uncle tells you--"

"My dear father, Saint-Herem and myself were close friends at college, and you must judge of him by what I shall relate. I had lost sight of him for years, when, as I was pa.s.sing along the boulevard six months ago, I saw everybody turn to look at something on the road, and I did likewise. I then perceived two magnificent horses harnessed to a phaeton, with two tiny domestics behind. This equipage was so elegant and rich that it attracted general attention--and who do you suppose was seated in that carriage? My old cla.s.smate Saint-Herem, more brilliant and handsome than ever!"

"It seems to me he must be a reckless spendthrift."

"Wait till I have finished my story, father. The equipage stopped abruptly, and while the two little pages alighted from their seats to hold the horses by the bridles, Saint-Herem leaped from the carriage, ran toward me, and fairly embraced me in his joy to find me again after so long a separation. I was dressed like a poor devil of a notary student, as I am; with my maroon redingote, my black trousers and laced shoes. You must admit that many _lions of society_ would have shrunk from the public recognition of a fellow as shabbily dressed as your humble servant. Florestan was so delighted to see me, however, that he paid no heed to my clothes. As for me, I was very happy and almost ashamed of this proof of friends.h.i.+p; for we presented such a contrast that everybody stared at us. Noticing the attention we attracted, my friend asked me where I was going and proposed to take me to my office, saying it would give us more time to talk. 'What,' I protested, 'enter your beautiful carriage with my umbrella, my shabby coat and coa.r.s.e shoes!' Florestan shrugged his shoulders, took me by the arm, and led me to the carriage in spite of my remonstrances; and when he left me at the office he made me promise to call on him at his apartments."