The Story of a Cat Part 6

"What are you doing there, youngster?"

"I? Nothing. I am looking at that mansion."

"I believe that without difficulty; but why do you look at it?"

"Because I find it handsome, and would like to live in it; one ought to be happy there."

"Yes, indeed," answered the steward, with emphasis; "they pa.s.s the days there happily enough. Who is that woman with whom you were speaking a while since?"

"It was Madame Bradamor."

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Boy on the Stone Post.]

"Madame Bradamor, the famous fortune-teller, who lives below, at the other end of the street?"

"The same."

"You know her?"

"A little; I sometimes do errands for her."

"Ah, ah!... And what did the old wizard say to you?"

"She said that if I could enter that house as a domestic, I should have a very agreeable existence."

"Madame de la Grenouillere is absent, my little friend, and, besides, her house is full."

"That is a pity," said the boy, drawing a deep sigh.

Father l.u.s.tucru made several steps as if to re-enter, rested his hand upon the knocker of the door, then turned abruptly and walked up to the boy.

"What is your name?"

"Nicholas Langlume, the same as my father's; but I am more generally known under the nickname of Faribole."

"What do you do?"

"Nothing; my father works on the quay, and I,--I live from day to day, gaining my bread as I can. I run errands, I sell May-bugs and black-birds and sparrows, I pick up nails in the gutters and sell them, I open the doors of carriages, I fish for logs in the Seine, I sing verses in the streets, I light lamps, and sometimes I play in the pantomimes at the theatre of Nicolet. These trades, sir, are not worth much; and I have all I can do to get something to eat every day."

"You interest me," replied Father l.u.s.tucru, "and I've a wish to help you on in the world. Tell me, Faribole, have you a taste for cooking?"

"Rather! I love the tid-bits, but my means do not allow me"--

"I did not ask you if you were fond of eating, stupid! I asked you if you had the taste, the inclination, to do cooking."

"I don't know; I never tried."

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Steward engages Faribole.]

"Well, then, Faribole, I will give you lessons. Come, follow me; I will clothe you and take care of you at my own expense, in awaiting the arrival of Madame de la Grenouillere. She is a good lady, and will doubtless retain you; but if she does not, your education will be commenced, and you'll be able to place yourself elsewhere."

"You are, then, in the service of the Countess?"

"I am her steward," said Father l.u.s.tucru, with dignity.

The eyes of Faribole sparkled with pleasure; he bowed respectfully before the steward, and said with warmth:--

"Ah, how much I owe to you!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: A little awkward at first.]

Faribole was installed that same day, and cordially received by the other servants of the household. He was a good-natured boy, serviceable and quick, and, although a little awkward in his new clothes and at his new duties, he showed plenty of willingness.

"Faribole," said the steward to his protege, several days afterward, "It is well to let you know the ways of the house. There is an individual here, all-powerful, who reigns as sovereign master, whose will is obeyed, whose whims are antic.i.p.ated,--and that individual is a cat. If you wish to make your way in the world, it is necessary to seek to please Moumouth; if the cat Moumouth accords you his affections, you will also have that of Madame de la Grenouillere and her companion, Mother Michel."

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Cat and the Boy become Friends.]

"The cat shall be my friend, and I will be the friend of the cat,"

responded the young fellow, confidently.

In effect, he showered on Moumouth so many kindnesses and caresses and attentions, that the cat, although naturally suspicious, conceived a lively attachment for Faribole, followed him with pleasure, teased him, and invited him to frolics. Mother Michel was nearly jealous of the small boy; Father l.u.s.tucru, who had ideas of his own, laughed in his sleeve, and rubbed his hands together.

The steward, one evening, ordered Faribole to come to his chamber, and after closing the door carefully and a.s.suring himself that no one was listening, he said:--

"Moumouth is your friend; you have followed my recommendations exactly."

"I shall remain in the house--is it not so?"

"Probably. You find yourself very well here?"

"Without doubt! I, who lived on black bread, I make four good meals a day. I had a wretched blouse, full of holes, and patched trousers, and now I am dressed like a prince. I suffer no more from cold, and, instead of lying out under the stars, I go to sleep every night in a comfortable bed, where I dream of gingerbread and fruit-cake."

Father l.u.s.tucru rested his chin on the palm of his right hand, and fixing his piercing eyes upon Faribole, said to him:--

"Suppose you were obliged to take up again with the vagabond life from which I lifted you?"

"I believe I should die with shame!"

"Then you would do anything to preserve your present position?"

"I would do anything."

[Ill.u.s.tration: l.u.s.tucru and Faribole.]

"Anything?"

"Anything, absolutely."

"Very well. Now, this is what I demand of you imperatively: Moumouth follows you willingly; to-morrow, just at night-fall, you will lead him into the garden; you will put him into a sack which I have made expressly, and tightly draw the cords of the sack"--