Luxury-Gluttony Part 53

"Dry?"

"Dry," replied the majordomo, bowing his head.

"Dry!" cried the canon, raising his hands and eyes to heaven. "It is a miracle! He breakfasted an hour ago like an ogre, and now he has just bolted a piece of dry bread!"

"Yes, my lord, this dry bread, seasoned with that juicy odour, seemed to me the most delicious of morsels."

At this moment the clock struck noon.

"Noon!" cried the majordomo. "This marvellous cook instructed me to serve you, my lord, at noon precisely. The cover is already laid on the little table. I am going to bring it."

"Go, Pablo," said the canon, with a meditative air. "My destiny is about to be accomplished. The miracle, if it is a miracle, is going to be performed,--if it is to be performed; for I swear, in spite of all you have just told me, I have not the least appet.i.te. I have a heavy stomach and a clammy mouth. Go, Pablo, I am waiting."

There was a resignation full of doubt, of curiosity, of anguish, and of vague hope, in the accent with which Dom Diego uttered the words, "I am waiting."

Soon the majordomo reappeared.

He walked with a solemn air, bearing on a tray a little chafing-dish of silver, the size of a plate, surmounted with its stew-pan. On the side of the tray was a small crystal flagon, filled with a limpid liquid, the colour of burnt topaz.

Pablo, as he approached, several times held his nose to the edge of the stew-pan to inhale the appetising exhalations which escaped from it; finally, he placed on the table the little chafing-dish, the flagon, and a small card.

"Pablo," asked the canon, pointing to the chafing-dish, surmounted with its pan, "what is that silver plate?"

"It belongs to M. Appet.i.te, sir; under this pan is a dish with a double bottom, filled with boiling water, because this great man says the food must be eaten burning hot."

"And that flagon, Pablo?"

"Its use is marked on the card, sir, which informs you of all the dishes you are going to eat."

"Let me see this card," said the canon, and he read:

"'Guinea fowl eggs fried in the fat of quails, relieved with a gravy of crabs.

"'N. B. Eat burning hot, make only one mouthful of each egg, after having softened it well with the gravy.

"'Masticate _pianissimo._

"'Drink after each egg two fingers of Madeira wine of 1807, which has made five voyages from Rio Janeiro to Calcutta. (It is needless to say that certain wines are vastly improved by long voyages.)

"'Drink this wine with meditation.

"'It is impossible for me not to take the liberty to accompany each dish which I have the honour of serving Lord Dom Diego with a flagon of wine appropriate to the particular character of the aforesaid dish.'"

"What a man!" exclaimed the majordomo, with an expression of profound admiration, "he thinks of everything!"

The canon, whose agitation was increasing, lifted the top of the silver dish with a trembling hand.

Suddenly a delicious odour spread itself through the atmosphere. Pablo clasped his hands, dilating his wide nostrils and looking at the dish with a greedy eye.

In the middle of the silver dish, half steeped in an unctuous, velvety gravy of a beautiful rosy hue, the majordomo saw four little round soft eggs, that seemed still to tremble with their smoking, golden frying.

The canon, struck like his majordomo with the delicious fragrance of the dish, literally ate it with his eyes, and for the first time in two months a sudden desire of appet.i.te tickled his palate. Nevertheless, he still doubted, believing in the deceitful illusion of a false hunger.

Taking in a spoon one of the little eggs, well impregnated with gravy, he shovelled it into his large mouth.

"Masticate _pianissimo_, my lord!" cried Pablo, who followed every motion of his master with a beating heart. "Masticate slowly, the magician said, and afterward drink this, according to the directions."

And Pablo poured out two fingers of the Madeira wine of 1807, in a gla.s.s as thin as the peel of an onion, and presented it to Dom Diego.

Oh, wonder! Oh, marvel! Oh, miracle! The second movement of the mastication _pianissimo_ was hardly accomplished when the canon threw his head gently back, and, half shutting his eyes in a sort of ecstasy, crossed his two hands on his breast, still holding in one hand the spoon with which he had just served himself.

"Well, my lord?" said Pablo, with keen interest, as he presented the two fingers of Madeira wine, "well?"

The canon did not reply, but took the gla.s.s eagerly and carried it to his lips.

"Above all, sir, drink with meditation," cried Pablo, a scrupulous observer of the cook's order.

The canon drank, indeed, with meditation, then clapped his tongue against his palate, and, if that can be said, listened an instant to relish the flower of the wine which mingled so marvellously with the after-taste of the dish he had just tasted; then, without replying to the interrogations of Pablo, he ate _pianissimo_ the three last Guinea fowl eggs, with a pensive and increasing delectation, emptied the little flagon of Madeira wine, and,--must we confess the dreadful impropriety?--he actually dipped his bread so scrupulously into every drop of the crab gravy in which the eggs were served that the bottom of the silver dish soon shone with an immaculate l.u.s.tre.

Then addressing his majordomo for the first time, Dom Diego exclaimed, in a tender voice, while tears glittered in his eyes:

"Ah, Pablo!"

"What is the matter, my lord? This emotion--"

"Pablo, I do not know who it is has said that great joys have something melancholy in them; whoever did say it has not made a mistake, because, from the infirmity of our nature, we often sink under the weight of the greatest felicities. Now, for the first time in two months, I can really say I eat, and I eat as I have never eaten in my life. No, no, human language, you must see, my dear Pablo, cannot express the luxury, the exquisite delicacy of this dish, so simple in appearance, Guinea fowl eggs fried in the fat of quail, watered with gravy of crabs. No, for you see, in proportion as I relish them I felt my appet.i.te renew itself, and at present I am much more hungry than before I ate. And this wine, Pablo, this wine, how it melts in the mouth, hey?"

"Alas! my lord," said the majordomo, with a woeful face, "I do not know even the taste of this wine, but I am glad to believe you."

"Oh, yes, believe me, my poor Pablo; it is dry and velvety at the same time,--what shall I say? a nectar! and if you only knew, Pablo, how admirably the flavour of this nectar mingles with the perfume of the crab gravy! It is ideal, Pablo, ideal, I tell you, and I ought to be radiant, crazy with joy in the recovery of my lost appet.i.te,--well, no, I feel myself overcome with an inexpressible tenderness; in fact, I weep like a child! Pablo, do you see it? I am weeping, I am hungry!"

A bell sounded.

"What is that, Pablo?"

"It is he, my lord."

"Who?"

"The great man! he is ringing for us."

"He?"

"Yes, my lord," replied Pablo, removing the dish. "He declares that those who eat should be at the call of those who prepare their food, for only the latter know the hour, the minute, the instant each dish ought to be served and tasted so as not to lose one atom of its worth."

"What he has said is very deep! He is right. Run, then, Pablo. My G.o.d!

he is ringing again! I hope he has not taken offence. Go quick, quick!"

The majordomo ran, and, let us confess the impropriety, the poor creature, instigated by a consuming curiosity, dared to lick the dish he carried with desperate greediness, although the canon had left it absolutely clean. The ever increasing impatience with which the canon looked for the different dishes, always unknown to him beforehand, can be imagined.