The Story of a Cat Part 9

"A, R, M, N, L, S."

Madame Michel was named Anastasie Ravegot; the widow, since twelve years, of Francois Michel, in life inspector of b.u.t.ter in the Paris markets; she was born in Noisy-le-Sec.

"What is your favorite flower?"

"The Jerusalem artichoke."

After these customary questions, the fortune-teller examined some coffee-grounds poured into a saucer, and said:--

"Phaldarus, the genie of things unknown, informs me that you are in search of a being very dear to you."

Mother Michel bounded in her chair with surprise.

Madame Bradamor continued: "This being is not a man; it is a quadruped--either a dog or a cat. Ariel, spirit celestial, reveals to me that it is a cat."

Mother Michel was more and more impressed; without giving her time to recover herself, the fortune-teller took a pack of cards, shuffled them, cut them three times, then disposed them in a systematic order on the table, and said gravely:--

"Your cat is the knave of clubs; let us see what happens to him. One, two, three, four; ten of spades! He is a wanderer, he has a pa.s.sion for travel, he sets out at night to see the curiosities of Paris. One, two, three, four; the queen of spades! It is a woman who manufactures ermine fur out of cat-skin. One, two, three, four; the knave of spades! It is a rag-picker. One, two, three, four; the king of spades! It is a restaurant-keeper. The falling together of these three persons alarms me.

One, two, three, four,--clubs! One, two, three, four,--clubs again! One, two, three, four,--always clubs. Your cat would bring money to these three persons: the rag-picker wishes to kill him in order to sell the skin to the furrier, and the body to the restaurant-keeper, who will serve it up to his customers as stewed rabbit. Will the cat be able to resist his persecutors. One, two, three, four; seven of spades! It is all over, madame; your cat no longer exists!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Fortune-teller consults her Cards.]

"They have eaten him, the cannibals!" cried Mother Michel, sinking back, and she fancied she heard a plaintive _miau_, the last agonized cry of Moumouth. But it was not an illusion; a cat had miaued, and was still miauing in the next chamber. Suddenly a pane of gla.s.s in the door described was s.h.i.+vered to atoms, and Moumouth in person tumbled at the feet of Mother Michel.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Moumouth appears.]

From the top of a wardrobe he had perceived his affectionate guardian; he had called to her several times, and as she did not answer him, he had thrown himself, in his desperation, against the gla.s.s door, through which he had broken a pa.s.sage.

"My cat was with you!" said Mother Michel; "you have stolen him! My mistress is powerful; my mistress is the Countess Yolande de la Grenouillere; she will have you chastised as you deserve to be!"

While making these threats Mother Michel placed Moumouth under her arm, and prepared to depart. Madame Bradamor stopped her, saying:--

"Do not ruin me, I conjure you! I have not stolen your cat!"

"How is it in your house, then?"

"I have it from a little boy named Faribole; he got this cat for me, which I have long desired to have, on account of his supernatural shape and appearance, to figure in my cabalistic conjurations. This is the truth, the whole truth. I beg of you that your mistress will not disturb me."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Do not ruin me, I conjure you!"]

"Madame the Countess will act as she thinks proper," responded Mother Michel, haughtily; and she vanished with her cat.

She made but one step from the house of Madame Bradamor to that of Madame de la Grenouillere; one would have said that Mother Michel had on the seven-league boots of little Tom Thumb. She did not linger in the parlor, when she arrived out of breath and unable to speak a word, but carried Moumouth straight to the Countess.

On recognizing the animal, the Countess gave so loud a cry of joy that it was heard as far as the Place de la Carrousel.

l.u.s.tucru a.s.sisted at this touching scene. At the sight of the cat he was so dumbfounded that his reason wavered for a moment. He imagined that the cat, so many times saved, was a fantastic being, capable of speaking, like the beasts in the fairy-tales, and he said to himself with a s.h.i.+ver: "I am lost! Moumouth is going to denounce me!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: l.u.s.tucru a.s.sisted at this touching Scene.]

CHAPTER IX.

WHICH IS SATISFACTORY TO EVERYBODY BUT THE GUILTY.

As soon as Madame de la Grenouillere learned how Moumouth had been recovered, she ordered young Faribole to be brought before her.

"I'll go and look him up," said Father l.u.s.tucru, with alacrity. He was very anxious to warn his accomplice, and sought an excuse to steal off.

"No, remain! You have admitted him to the mansion, you shall see him turned away, and will learn to bestow your confidence more wisely in future."

l.u.s.tucru remained, and, recovering from his first stupor, resolved to boldly deny everything, if Faribole should dare to accuse him.

Introduced into the parlor, Faribole did not wait to be interrogated.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Faribole Explains.]

"Madame the Countess," said he, "the presence of your cat tells me why you have called me; but I am less guilty than I appear; permit me to explain."

"It is useless," replied Madame de la Grenouillere; "your justification is impossible."

The steward, believing it best to play a bold game, said with irony:--

"I am curious to know what unlikely story this rogue has to tell," and in accenting these words slowly he gave Faribole a glance which signified: "If you accuse me, woe to you!'"

Without allowing himself to be confused, Faribole commenced in these terms:--

"It is necessary to avow it, madame; I entered into your service with the intention of stealing your cat; the fortune-teller wished to have him, to make him play the part of the devil Astaroth; and she had seduced me by the promise of a crown of six livres and a pair of shoes. They treated me so well, and Moumouth appeared to me so charming, that I renounced my wicked plans; I never, no, never would have put them into execution, if I had not found it was necessary to get Moumouth out of the way in order to rescue him from the attacks of an enemy all the more terrible because he was hidden."

"Of whom does he wish to speak?" demanded l.u.s.tucru.

"Of you! of you who have said to me, 'Kill Moumouth, or I chase you from the house!'"

"I, I have said that! what an impudent falsehood! Ah, Madame the Countess, you know me well enough not to hesitate between the declarations of this fellow and my flat denial."

"Faribole," said the Countess severely, "your charge is grave; can you bring any proof to support it?"

"Proof, alas! no, madame; but I am ready to swear to you"--

"Enough," interrupted the Countess; "do not add calumny to the theft of the cat, but deliver me of your presence."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Faribole is treated Roughly on the Staircase.]

The miserable Faribole wished to protest, but at a sign from Madame de la Grenouillere, l.u.s.tucru seized him by the arm, led him through the door without further ceremony, and treated him in so rough a manner on the staircase as to quite relieve him of any idea of asking for his personal effects.

However, the iniquities of the steward were not to remain long unpunished; that same day, Mother Michel, in arranging the closet in the antechamber, was very much astonished at finding the bodies of several dead rats and mice; she was wondering what had caused their death, when she recognized the famous hash that the cat had refused to eat, and which had been left there by mistake. Two mice were dead in the plate itself, so powerful and subtile was the poison!