Luxury-Gluttony Part 51

"Appet.i.te, sir."

"Do you write your name as appet.i.te, the desire for food, is written?"

"Yes, sir, but I confess that it is not my name, but my surname."

"To deserve such a surname you ought to be eminently well endowed by nature, M. Appet.i.te; you ought to enjoy an eternal hunger," said the canon, with a sigh of regretful envy.

"On the contrary, I eat very little, sir, as almost all those who have the sacred mission of making others eat."

"How? What, then, is your profession?"

"Cook, sir, and would like the honour of serving you, if I can merit that felicity."

The canon shook his head sadly, and hid his face in his hands; he felt all his griefs revive at the proposition of M. Appet.i.te, who went on to say:

"My second master, Lord Wilmot, whose stomach was so debilitated that for almost a year he ate without pleasure, and even without knowing the taste of different dishes, literally devoured food the first day I had the honour of serving him. It was he who, through grat.i.tude, gave me the name of Appet.i.te, which I have kept ever since."

The canon looked at his visitor attentively, and replied:

"Ah, you are a cook? But tell me, you have spoken to me of paying me the tribute of your admiration and of offering me your services, where were you acquainted with me?"

"You have, sir, during your sojourn in Madrid, often dined with the amba.s.sador of France."

"Oh, yes, that was my good time," replied Dom Diego, with sadness. "I rendered ample justice to the table of the amba.s.sador of France, and I have proclaimed the fact that I knew of no better pract.i.tioner than his chef."

"And this ill.u.s.trious pract.i.tioner, with whom, my lord, I am in correspondence, that we may mutually keep pace with the progress of the science, has written to me to express his joy at having been so worthily appreciated by a connoisseur like yourself. I had taken note of your name, and yesterday, learning by chance that you were in search of a cook, I come to have the honour of offering you my services."

"And from whom do you come, my friend?"

"For ten years, my lord, I have worked only for myself, that is to say, for art. I have a modest fortune, but enough, so it is not a mercenary motive which brings me to you, sir."

"But why do you offer your services to me, rather than to some one else?"

"Because, being free to choose, I consult my convenience; because I am very jealous, my lord, horribly jealous."

"Jealous; and of what?"

"Of my master's fidelity."

"What, the fidelity of your master?"

"Yes, my lord; and I am sure you will be faithful, because you live alone, without family, and, by condition as well as character, you have not, like so many others, all sorts of inclinations which always bore or annoy one; as a serious and convinced man, you have only one pa.s.sion, but profound, absolute, and that is gluttony. Well, this pa.s.sion, I offer, my lord, to satisfy, as you have never been satisfied in your life."

"You talk of gold, my dear friend, but do you know that, to make good your claims, in the use of such extravagant language, you must have great talent,--prodigious talent?"

"This great, this prodigious talent I have, my lord."

"Your avowal is not modest."

"It is sincere, and you know, sir, that one may employ a legitimate a.s.surance, from the consciousness of his power."

"I like this n.o.ble pride, my dear friend, and if your acts respond to your words, you are a superior person."

"Sir, put me to trial to-day, this hour."

"To-day, this hour!" cried the canon, shrugging his shoulders. "You do not know, then, that for two accursed months I have been in this deplorable state; that there is nothing I can taste; that this morning I have left untouched a breakfast ordered from Chevet, who supplies me until my kitchen is well appointed. Ah, if you did not have the appearance of an honest man, I would think you came to insult my misery,--proposing to cook for me when I am never the least hungry."

"Sir, my name is Appet.i.te."

"But I repeat to you, my dear friend, that only an hour ago I refused the choicest things."

"So much the better, my lord, I could not present myself to you at a more favourable juncture; my triumph will be great."

"Listen, my dear friend, I cannot tell you if it is the influence of your name, or the learned and exalted manner with which you speak of your art, which gives me confidence in you, in spite of myself; but I experience, I will not say, a desire to eat, because I would challenge you to make me swallow the wing of an ortolan; but indeed I experience, in hearing you reason upon cooking, a pleasure which makes me hope that perhaps, later, if appet.i.te returns to me, I--"

"My lord, pardon me if I interrupt you; you have a kitchen here?"

"Certainly, with every appointment. A fire has just been kindled there to keep warm what was brought already prepared from Chevet, but, alas!

utterly useless."

"Will you give me, sir, a half-hour?"

"What to do?"

"To prepare a breakfast for you, sir."

"With what?"

"I have brought all that is necessary."

"But what is the good of this breakfast, my dear friend? Go, believe me, and do not compromise a talent in which I am pleased to believe, by engaging in a foolish, impossible undertaking."

"Sir, will you give me a half-hour?"

"But I ask again, for what good?"

"To make you eat an excellent breakfast, sir, which will predispose you for a still better dinner."

"That is folly, I tell you; you are mad."

"Try, my lord; what do you risk?"

"Go on, then, you must be a magician."

"I am, sir, perhaps," replied the cook, with a strange smile.

"Very well, bear then the penalty of your own pride," cried Dom Diego, ringing violently. "If you are instantly overwhelmed with humiliation, and are compelled to confess the impotence of your art, it is you who would have it. Take care, take care."

"You will eat, my lord," replied the artist, in a professional tone; "yes, you will eat, and much, and deliciously."