FOUR SHORT STORIES

By Emile Zola

CONTENTS:

 NANA

 THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER

 CAPTAIN BURLE

 THE DEATH OF OLIVIER BACAILLE

NANA

by

Emile Zola

CHAPTER I

At nine o'clock in the evening the body of the house at the Theatres desVarietes was still all but empty. A few individuals, it is true, weresitting quietly waiting in the balcony and stalls, but these were lost, as it were, among the ranges of seats whose coverings of cardinalvelvet loomed in the subdued light of the dimly burning luster. A shadowenveloped the great red splash of the curtain, and not a sound came fromthe stage, the unlit footlights, the scattered desks of the orchestra. It was only high overhead in the third gallery, round the domed ceilingwhere nude females and children flew in heavens which had turned greenin the gaslight, that calls and laughter were audible above a continuoushubbub of voices, and heads in women's and workmen's caps were ranged, row above row, under the wide-vaulted bays with their gilt-surroundingadornments. Every few seconds an attendant would make her appearance, bustling along with tickets in her hand and piloting in front of her agentleman and a lady, who took their seats, he in his evening dress, she sitting slim and undulant beside him while her eyes wandered slowlyround the house. 

Two young men appeared in the stalls; they kept standing and lookedabout them. 

"Didn't I say so, Hector?" cried the elder of the two, a tall fellowwith little black mustaches. "We're too early! You might quite well haveallowed me to finish my cigar. "

An attendant was passing. 

"Oh, Monsieur Fauchery, " she said familiarly, "it won't begin for halfan hour yet!"

"Then why do they advertise for nine o'clock?" muttered Hector, whoselong thin face assumed an expression of vexation. "Only this morningClarisse, who's in the piece, swore that they'd begin at nine o'clockpunctually. "

For a moment they remained silent and, looking upward, scanned theshadowy boxes. But the green paper with which these were hung renderedthem more shadowy still. Down below, under the dress circle, the lowerboxes were buried in utter night. In those on the second tier there wasonly one stout lady, who was stranded, as it were, on the velvet-coveredbalustrade in front of her. On the right hand and on the left, betweenlofty pilasters, the stage boxes, bedraped with long-fringed scallopedhangings, remained untenanted. The house with its white and gold, relieved by soft green tones, lay only half disclosed to view, as thoughfull of a fine dust shed from the little jets of flame in the greatglass luster. 

"Did you get your stage box for Lucy?" asked Hector. 

"Yes, " replied his companion, "but I had some trouble to get it. Oh, there's no danger of Lucy coming too early!"

He stifled a slight yawn; then after a pause:

"You're in luck's way, you are, since you haven't been at a first nightbefore. The Blonde Venus will be the event of the year. People have beentalking about it for six months. Oh, such music, my dear boy! Such asly dog, Bordenave! He knows his business and has kept this for theexhibition season. " Hector was religiously attentive. He asked aquestion. 

"And Nana, the new star who's going to play Venus, d'you know her?"

"There you are; you're beginning again!" cried Fauchery, casting up hisarms. "Ever since this morning people have been dreeing me with Nana. I've met more than twenty people, and it's Nana here and Nana there!What do I know? Am I acquainted with all the light ladies in Paris? Nanais an invention of Bordenave's! It must be a fine one!"

He calmed himself, but the emptiness of the house, the dim light ofthe luster, the churchlike sense of self-absorption which the placeinspired, full as it was of whispering voices and the sound of doorsbanging--all these got on his nerves. 

"No, by Jove, " he said all of a sudden, "one's hair turns gray here. I--I'm going out. Perhaps we shall find Bordenave downstairs. He'll giveus information about things. "

Downstairs in the great marble-paved entrance hall, where the box officewas, the public were beginning to show themselves. Through the threeopen gates might have been observed, passing in, the ardent life of theboulevards, which were all astir and aflare under the fine April night. The sound of carriage wheels kept stopping suddenly; carriage doors werenoisily shut again, and people began entering in small groups, takingtheir stand before the ticket bureau and climbing the double flight ofstairs at the end of the hall, up which the women loitered with swayinghips. Under the crude gaslight, round the pale, naked walls of theentrance hall, which with its scanty First Empire decorations suggestedthe peristyle of a toy temple, there was a flaring display of loftyyellow posters bearing the name of "Nana" in great black letters. Gentlemen, who seemed to be glued to the entry, were reading them;others, standing about, were engaged in talk, barring the doors of thehouse in so doing, while hard by the box office a thickset man withan extensive, close-shaven visage was giving rough answers to such aspressed to engage seats. 

"There's Bordenave, " said Fauchery as he came down the stairs. But themanager had already seen him. 

"Ah, ah! You're a nice fellow!" he shouted at him from a distance. "That's the way you give me a notice, is it? Why, I opened my Figarothis morning--never a word!"

"Wait a bit, " replied Fauchery. "I certainly must make the acquaintanceof your Nana before talking about her. Besides, I've made no promises. "

Then to put an end to the discussion, he introduced his cousin, M. Hector de la Faloise, a young man who had come to finish his educationin Paris. The manager took the young man's measure at a glance. ButHector returned his scrutiny with deep interest. This, then, was thatBordenave, that showman of the sex who treated women like a convictoverseer, that clever fellow who was always at full steam over someadvertising dodge, that shouting, spitting, thigh-slapping fellow, thatcynic with the soul of a policeman! Hector was under the impression thathe ought to discover some amiable observation for the occasion. 

"Your theater--" he began in dulcet tones. 

Bordenave interrupted him with a savage phrase, as becomes a man whodotes on frank situations. 

"Call it my brothel!"

At this Fauchery laughed approvingly, while La Faloise stopped with hispretty speech strangled in his throat, feeling very much shocked andstriving to appear as though he enjoyed the phrase. The manager haddashed off to shake hands with a dramatic critic whose column hadconsiderable influence. When he returned La Faloise was recovering. Hewas afraid of being treated as a provincial if he showed himself toomuch nonplused. 

"I have been told, " he began again, longing positively to find somethingto say, "that Nana has a delicious voice. "

"Nana?" cried the manager, shrugging his shoulders. "The voice of asquirt!"

The young man made haste to add:

"Besides being a first-rate comedian!"

"She? Why she's a lump! She has no notion what to do with her hands andfeet. "

La Faloise blushed a little. He had lost his bearings. He stammered:

"I wouldn't have missed this first representation tonight for the world. I was aware that your theater--"

"Call it my brothel, " Bordenave again interpolated with the frigidobstinacy of a man convinced. 

Meanwhile Fauchery, with extreme calmness, was looking at the women asthey came in. He went to his cousin's rescue when he saw him all at seaand doubtful whether to laugh or to be angry. 

"Do be pleasant to Bordenave--call his theater what he wishes you to, since it amuses him. And you, my dear fellow, don't keep us waitingabout for nothing. If your Nana neither sings nor acts you'll findyou've made a blunder, that's all. It's what I'm afraid of, if the truthbe told. "

"A blunder! A blunder!" shouted the manager, and his face grew purple. "Must a woman know how to act and sing? Oh, my chicken, you're tooSTOOPID. Nana has other good points, by heaven!--something which is asgood as all the other things put together. I've smelled it out; it'sdeuced pronounced with her, or I've got the scent of an idiot. You'llsee, you'll see! She's only got to come on, and all the house will begaping at her. "

He had held up his big hands which were trembling under the influence ofhis eager enthusiasm, and now, having relieved his feelings, he loweredhis voice and grumbled to himself:

"Yes, she'll go far! Oh yes, s'elp me, she'll go far! A skin--oh, what askin she's got!"

Then as Fauchery began questioning him he consented to enter into adetailed explanation, couched in phraseology so crude that Hector de laFaloise felt slightly disgusted. He had been thick with Nana, and he wasanxious to start her on the stage. Well, just about that time he was insearch of a Venus. He--he never let a woman encumber him for anylength of time; he preferred to let the public enjoy the benefit of herforthwith. But there was a deuce of a row going on in his shop, whichhad been turned topsy-turvy by that big damsel's advent. Rose Mignon, his star, a comic actress of much subtlety and an adorable singer, wasdaily threatening to leave him in the lurch, for she was furious andguessed the presence of a rival. And as for the bill, good God! What anoise there had been about it all! It had ended by his deciding to printthe names of the two actresses in the same-sized type. But it wouldn'tdo to bother him. Whenever any of his little women, as he calledthem--Simonne or Clarisse, for instance--wouldn't go the way hewanted her to he just up with his foot and caught her one in the rear. Otherwise life was impossible. Oh yes, he sold 'em; HE knew what theyfetched, the wenches!

"Tut!" he cried, breaking off short. "Mignon and Steiner. Alwaystogether. You know, Steiner's getting sick of Rose; that's why thehusband dogs his steps now for fear of his slipping away. "

On the pavement outside, the row of gas jets flaring on the cornice ofthe theater cast a patch of brilliant light. Two small trees, violentlygreen, stood sharply out against it, and a column gleamed in such vividillumination that one could read the notices thereon at a distance, asthough in broad daylight, while the dense night of the boulevard beyondwas dotted with lights above the vague outline of an ever-moving crowd. Many men did not enter the theater at once but stayed outside to talkwhile finishing their cigars under the rays of the line of gas jets, which shed a sallow pallor on their faces and silhouetted their shortblack shadows on the asphalt. Mignon, a very tall, very broad fellow, with the square-shaped head of a strong man at a fair, was forcing apassage through the midst of the groups and dragging on his arm thebanker Steiner, an exceedingly small man with a corporation already inevidence and a round face framed in a setting of beard which was alreadygrowing gray. 

"Well, " said Bordenave to the banker, "you met her yesterday in myoffice. "

"Ah! It was she, was it?" ejaculated Steiner. "I suspected as much. OnlyI was coming out as she was going in, and I scarcely caught a glimpse ofher. "

Mignon was listening with half-closed eyelids and nervously twisting agreat diamond ring round his finger. He had quite understood that Nanawas in question. Then as Bordenave was drawing a portrait of his newstar, which lit a flame in the eyes of the banker, he ended by joiningin the conversation. 

"Oh, let her alone, my dear fellow; she's a low lot! The public willshow her the door in quick time. Steiner, my laddie, you know that mywife is waiting for you in her box. "

He wanted to take possession of him again. But Steiner would not quitBordenave. In front of them a stream of people was crowding and crushingagainst the ticket office, and there was a din of voices, in the midstof which the name of Nana sounded with all the melodious vivacity of itstwo syllables. The men who stood planted in front of the notices keptspelling it out loudly; others, in an interrogative tone, uttered it asthey passed; while the women, at once restless and smiling, repeatedit softly with an air of surprise. Nobody knew Nana. Whence had Nanafallen? And stories and jokes, whispered from ear to ear, went the roundof the crowd. The name was a caress in itself; it was a pet name, thevery familiarity of which suited every lip. Merely through enunciatingit thus, the throng worked itself into a state of gaiety and becamehighly good natured. A fever of curiosity urged it forward, that kindof Parisian curiosity which is as violent as an access of positiveunreason. Everybody wanted to see Nana. A lady had the flounce of herdress torn off; a man lost his hat. 

"Oh, you're asking me too many questions about it!" cried Bordenave, whom a score of men were besieging with their queries. "You're going tosee her, and I'm off; they want me. "

He disappeared, enchanted at having fired his public. Mignon shruggedhis shoulders, reminding Steiner that Rose was awaiting him in order toshow him the costume she was about to wear in the first act. 

"By Jove! There's Lucy out there, getting down from her carriage, " saidLa Faloise to Fauchery. 

It was, in fact, Lucy Stewart, a plain little woman, some forty yearsold, with a disproportionately long neck, a thin, drawn face, a heavymouth, but withal of such brightness, such graciousness of manner, thatshe was really very charming. She was bringing with her Caroline Hequetand her mother--Caroline a woman of a cold type of beauty, the mother aperson of a most worthy demeanor, who looked as if she were stuffed withstraw. 

"You're coming with us? I've kept a place for you, " she said toFauchery. "Oh, decidedly not! To see nothing!" he made answer. "I've astall; I prefer being in the stalls. "

Lucy grew nettled. Did he not dare show himself in her company? Then, suddenly restraining herself and skipping to another topic:

"Why haven't you told me that you knew Nana?"

"Nana! I've never set eyes on her. "

"Honor bright? I've been told that you've been to bed with her. "

But Mignon, coming in front of them, his finger to his lips, made thema sign to be silent. And when Lucy questioned him he pointed out a youngman who was passing and murmured:

"Nana's fancy man. "

Everybody looked at him. He was a pretty fellow. Fauchery recognizedhim; it was Daguenet, a young man who had run through three hundredthousand francs in the pursuit of women and who now was dabblingin stocks, in order from time to time to treat them to bouquets anddinners. Lucy made the discovery that he had fine eyes. 

"Ah, there's Blanche!" she cried. "It's she who told me that you hadbeen to bed with Nana. "

Blanche de Sivry, a great fair girl, whose good-looking face showedsigns of growing fat, made her appearance in the company of a spare, sedulously well-groomed and extremely distinguished man. 

"The Count Xavier de Vandeuvres, " Fauchery whispered in his companion'sear. 

The count and the journalist shook hands, while Blanche and Lucy enteredinto a brisk, mutual explanation. One of them in blue, the other inrose-pink, they stood blocking the way with their deeply flouncedskirts, and Nana's name kept repeating itself so shrilly in theirconversation that people began to listen to them. The Count deVandeuvres carried Blanche off. But by this time Nana's name was echoingmore loudly than ever round the four walls of the entrance hall amidyearnings sharpened by delay. Why didn't the play begin? The men pulledout their watches; late-comers sprang from their conveyances beforethese had fairly drawn up; the groups left the sidewalk, where thepassers-by were crossing the now-vacant space of gaslit pavement, craning their necks, as they did so, in order to get a peep into thetheater. A street boy came up whistling and planted himself before anotice at the door, then cried out, "Woa, Nana!" in the voice of a tipsyman and hied on his way with a rolling gait and a shuffling of his oldboots. A laugh had arisen at this. Gentlemen of unimpeachable appearancerepeated: "Nana, woa, Nana!" People were crushing; a dispute arose atthe ticket office, and there was a growing clamor caused by the hum ofvoices calling on Nana, demanding Nana in one of those accesses of sillyfacetiousness and sheer animalism which pass over mobs. 

But above all the din the bell that precedes the rise of the curtainbecame audible. "They've rung; they've rung!" The rumor reached theboulevard, and thereupon followed a stampede, everyone wanting to passin, while the servants of the theater increased their forces. Mignon, with an anxious air, at last got hold of Steiner again, the latter nothaving been to see Rose's costume. At the very first tinkle of the bellLa Faloise had cloven a way through the crowd, pulling Fauchery withhim, so as not to miss the opening scene. But all this eagerness on thepart of the public irritated Lucy Stewart. What brutes were these peopleto be pushing women like that! She stayed in the rear of them all withCaroline Hequet and her mother. The entrance hall was now empty, whilebeyond it was still heard the long-drawn rumble of the boulevard. 

"As though they were always funny, those pieces of theirs!" Lucy keptrepeating as she climbed the stair. 

In the house Fauchery and La Faloise, in front of their stalls, weregazing about them anew. By this time the house was resplendent. Highjets of gas illumined the great glass chandelier with a rustling ofyellow and rosy flames, which rained down a stream of brilliant lightfrom dome to floor. The cardinal velvets of the seats were shotwith hues of lake, while all the gilding shone again, the soft greendecorations chastening its effect beneath the too-decided paintings ofthe ceiling. The footlights were turned up and with a vivid flood ofbrilliance lit up the curtain, the heavy purple drapery of which had allthe richness befitting a palace in a fairy tale and contrasted with themeanness of the proscenium, where cracks showed the plaster under thegilding. The place was already warm. At their music stands the orchestrawere tuning their instruments amid a delicate trilling of flutes, astifled tooting of horns, a singing of violin notes, which floated forthamid the increasing uproar of voices. All the spectators were talking, jostling, settling themselves in a general assault upon seats; and thehustling rush in the side passages was now so violent that every doorinto the house was laboriously admitting the inexhaustible flood ofpeople. There were signals, rustlings of fabrics, a continual march pastof skirts and head dresses, accentuated by the black hue of a dress coator a surtout. Notwithstanding this, the rows of seats were little bylittle getting filled up, while here and there a light toilet stood outfrom its surroundings, a head with a delicate profile bent forward underits chignon, where flashed the lightning of a jewel. In one of the boxesthe tip of a bare shoulder glimmered like snowy silk. Other ladies, sitting at ease, languidly fanned themselves, following with their gazethe pushing movements of the crowd, while young gentlemen, standingup in the stalls, their waistcoats cut very low, gardenias in theirbuttonholes, pointed their opera glasses with gloved finger tips. 

It was now that the two cousins began searching for the faces of thosethey knew. Mignon and Steiner were together in a lower box, sitting sideby side with their arms leaning for support on the velvet balustrade. Blanche de Sivry seemed to be in sole possession of a stage box on thelevel of the stalls. But La Faloise examined Daguenet before anyoneelse, he being in occupation of a stall two rows in front of his own. Close to him, a very young man, seventeen years old at the outside, sometruant from college, it may be, was straining wide a pair of fine eyessuch as a cherub might have owned. Fauchery smiled when he looked athim. 

"Who is that lady in the balcony?" La Faloise asked suddenly. "The ladywith a young girl in blue beside her. "

He pointed out a large woman who was excessively tight-laced, a womanwho had been a blonde and had now become white and yellow of tint, herbroad face, reddened with paint, looking puffy under a rain of littlechildish curls. 

"It's Gaga, " was Fauchery's simple reply, and as this name seemed toastound his cousin, he added:

"You don't know Gaga? She was the delight of the early years of LouisPhilippe. Nowadays she drags her daughter about with her wherever shegoes. "

La Faloise never once glanced at the young girl. The sight of Gaga movedhim; his eyes did not leave her again. He still found her very goodlooking but he dared not say so. 

Meanwhile the conductor lifted his violin bow and the orchestra attackedthe overture. People still kept coming in; the stir and noise were onthe increase. Among that public, peculiar to first nights and neversubject to change, there were little subsections composed of intimatefriends, who smilingly forgathered again. Old first-nighters, hat onhead, seemed familiar and quite at ease and kept exchanging salutations. All Paris was there, the Paris of literature, of finance and ofpleasure. There were many journalists, several authors, a number ofstock-exchange people and more courtesans than honest women. It wasa singularly mixed world, composed, as it was, of all the talents andtarnished by all the vices, a world where the same fatigue and the samefever played over every face. Fauchery, whom his cousin was questioning, showed him the boxes devoted to the newspapers and to the clubs andthen named the dramatic critics--a lean, dried-up individual withthin, spiteful lips and, chief of all, a big fellow with a good-naturedexpression, lolling on the shoulder of his neighbor, a young miss overwhom he brooded with tender and paternal eyes. 

But he interrupted himself on seeing La Faloise in the act of bowing tosome persons who occupied the box opposite. He appeared surprised. 

"What?" he queried. "You know the Count Muffat de Beuville?"

"Oh, for a long time back, " replied Hector. "The Muffats had a propertynear us. I often go to their house. The count's with his wife and hisfather-in-law, the Marquis de Chouard. "

And with some vanity--for he was happy in his cousin's astonishment--heentered into particulars. The marquis was a councilor of state; thecount had recently been appointed chamberlain to the empress. Fauchery, who had caught up his opera glass, looked at the countess, a plumpbrunette with a white skin and fine dark eyes. 

"You shall present me to them between the acts, " he ended by saying. "I have already met the count, but I should like to go to them on theirTuesdays. "

Energetic cries of "Hush" came from the upper galleries. The overturehad begun, but people were still coming in. Late arrivals were obligingwhole rows of spectators to rise; the doors of boxes were banging; loudvoices were heard disputing in the passages. And there was no cessationof the sound of many conversations, a sound similar to the loudtwittering of talkative sparrows at close of day. All was in confusion;the house was a medley of heads and arms which moved to and fro, theirowners seating themselves or trying to make themselves comfortable or, on the other hand, excitedly endeavoring to remain standing so as totake a final look round. The cry of "Sit down, sit down!" came fiercelyfrom the obscure depths of the pit. A shiver of expectation traversedthe house: at last people were going to make the acquaintance of thisfamous Nana with whom Paris had been occupying itself for a whole week!

Little by little, however, the buzz of talk dwindled softly down amongoccasional fresh outbursts of rough speech. And amid this swooningmurmur, these perishing sighs of sound, the orchestra struck up thesmall, lively notes of a waltz with a vagabond rhythm bubbling withroguish laughter. The public were titillated; they were already on thegrin. But the gang of clappers in the foremost rows of the pit applaudedfuriously. The curtain rose. 

"By George!" exclaimed La Faloise, still talking away. "There's a manwith Lucy. "

He was looking at the stage box on the second tier to his right, thefront of which Caroline and Lucy were occupying. At the back of this boxwere observable the worthy countenance of Caroline's mother and theside face of a tall young man with a noble head of light hair and anirreproachable getup. 

"Do look!" La Faloise again insisted. "There's a man there. "

Fauchery decided to level his opera glass at the stage box. But heturned round again directly. 

"Oh, it's Labordette, " he muttered in a careless voice, as though thatgentle man's presence ought to strike all the world as though bothnatural and immaterial. 

Behind the cousins people shouted "Silence!" They had to cease talking. A motionless fit now seized the house, and great stretches of heads, all erect and attentive, sloped away from stalls to topmost gallery. The first act of the Blonde Venus took place in Olympus, a pasteboardOlympus, with clouds in the wings and the throne of Jupiter on theright of the stage. First of all Iris and Ganymede, aided by a troupe ofcelestial attendants, sang a chorus while they arranged the seats ofthe gods for the council. Once again the prearranged applause of theclappers alone burst forth; the public, a little out of their depth, satwaiting. Nevertheless, La Faloise had clapped Clarisse Besnus, one ofBordenave's little women, who played Iris in a soft blue dress with agreat scarf of the seven colors of the rainbow looped round her waist. 

"You know, she draws up her chemise to put that on, " he said toFauchery, loud enough to be heard by those around him. "We tried thetrick this morning. It was all up under her arms and round the small ofher back. "

But a slight rustling movement ran through the house; Rose Mignon hadjust come on the stage as Diana. Now though she had neither the face northe figure for the part, being thin and dark and of the adorable type ofugliness peculiar to a Parisian street child, she nonethelessappeared charming and as though she were a satire on the personage sherepresented. Her song at her entrance on the stage was full of linesquaint enough to make you cry with laughter and of complaints aboutMars, who was getting ready to desert her for the companionshipof Venus. She sang it with a chaste reserve so full of sprightlysuggestiveness that the public warmed amain. The husband and Steiner, sitting side by side, were laughing complaisantly, and the whole housebroke out in a roar when Prulliere, that great favorite, appeared as ageneral, a masquerade Mars, decked with an enormous plume and draggingalong a sword, the hilt of which reached to his shoulder. As for him, hehad had enough of Diana; she had been a great deal too coy with him, heaverred. Thereupon Diana promised to keep a sharp eye on him and to berevenged. The duet ended with a comic yodel which Prulliere deliveredvery amusingly with the yell of an angry tomcat. He had about him allthe entertaining fatuity of a young leading gentleman whose love affairsprosper, and he rolled around the most swaggering glances, which excitedshrill feminine laughter in the boxes. 

Then the public cooled again, for the ensuing scenes were foundtiresome. Old Bosc, an imbecile Jupiter with head crushed beneath theweight of an immense crown, only just succeeded in raising a smile amonghis audience when he had a domestic altercation with Juno on the subjectof the cook's accounts. The march past of the gods, Neptune, Pluto, Minerva and the rest, was well-nigh spoiling everything. People grewimpatient; there was a restless, slowly growing murmur; the audienceceased to take an interest in the performance and looked round at thehouse. Lucy began laughing with Labordette; the Count de Vandeuvreswas craning his neck in conversation behind Blanche's sturdy shoulders, while Fauchery, out of the corners of his eyes, took stock of theMuffats, of whom the count appeared very serious, as though he had notunderstood the allusions, and the countess smiled vaguely, her eyes lostin reverie. But on a sudden, in this uncomfortable state of things, theapplause of the clapping contingent rattled out with the regularity ofplatoon firing. People turned toward the stage. Was it Nana at last?This Nana made one wait with a vengeance. 

It was a deputation of mortals whom Ganymede and Iris had introduced, respectable middle-class persons, deceived husbands, all of them, andthey came before the master of the gods to proffer a complaint againstVenus, who was assuredly inflaming their good ladies with an excess ofardor. The chorus, in quaint, dolorous tones, broken by silences fullof pantomimic admissions, caused great amusement. A neat phrase went theround of the house: "The cuckolds' chorus, the cuckolds' chorus, " andit "caught on, " for there was an encore. The singers' heads were droll;their faces were discovered to be in keeping with the phrase, especiallythat of a fat man which was as round as the moon. Meanwhile Vulcanarrived in a towering rage, demanding back his wife who had slipped awaythree days ago. The chorus resumed their plaint, calling on Vulcan, thegod of the cuckolds. Vulcan's part was played by Fontan, a comic actorof talent, at once vulgar and original, and he had a role of the wildestwhimsicality and was got up as a village blacksmith, fiery red wig, bare arms tattooed with arrow-pierced hearts and all the rest of it. Awoman's voice cried in a very high key, "Oh, isn't he ugly?" and all theladies laughed and applauded. 

Then followed a scene which seemed interminable. Jupiter in the courseof it seemed never to be going to finish assembling the Council of Godsin order to submit thereto the deceived husband's requests. And still noNana! Was the management keeping Nana for the fall of the curtain then?So long a period of expectancy had ended by annoying the public. Theirmurmurings began again. 

"It's going badly, " said Mignon radiantly to Steiner. "She'll get apretty reception; you'll see!"

At that very moment the clouds at the back of the stage were clovenapart and Venus appeared. Exceedingly tall, exceedingly strong, for hereighteen years, Nana, in her goddess's white tunic and with her lighthair simply flowing unfastened over her shoulders, came down to thefootlights with a quiet certainty of movement and a laugh of greetingfor the public and struck up her grand ditty:

"When Venus roams at eventide. "

From the second verse onward people looked at each other all over thehouse. Was this some jest, some wager on Bordenave's part? Never had amore tuneless voice been heard or one managed with less art. Her managerjudged of her excellently; she certainly sang like a squirt. Nay, more, she didn't even know how to deport herself on the stage: she thrust herarms in front of her while she swayed her whole body to and fro in amanner which struck the audience as unbecoming and disagreeable. Criesof "Oh, oh!" were already rising in the pit and the cheap places. Therewas a sound of whistling, too, when a voice in the stalls, suggestive ofa molting cockerel, cried out with great conviction:

"That's very smart!"

All the house looked round. It was the cherub, the truant from theboarding-school, who sat with his fine eyes very wide open and his fairface glowing very hotly at sight of Nana. When he saw everybodyturning toward him he grew extremely red at the thought of having thusunconsciously spoken aloud. Daguenet, his neighbor, smilingly examinedhim; the public laughed, as though disarmed and no longer anxious tohiss; while the young gentlemen in white gloves, fascinated in theirturn by Nana's gracious contours, lolled back in their seats andapplauded. 

"That's it! Well done! Bravo!"

Nana, in the meantime, seeing the house laughing, began to laughherself. The gaiety of all redoubled itself. She was an amusingcreature, all the same, was that fine girl! Her laughter made a love ofa little dimple appear in her chin. She stood there waiting, not boredin the least, familiar with her audience, falling into step with them atonce, as though she herself were admitting with a wink that she had nottwo farthings' worth of talent but that it did not matter at all, that, in fact, she had other good points. And then after having made a signto the conductor which plainly signified, "Go ahead, old boy!" she beganher second verse:

"'Tis Venus who at midnight passes--"

Still the same acidulated voice, only that now it tickled the public inthe right quarter so deftly that momentarily it caused them to give alittle shiver of pleasure. Nana still smiled her smile: it lit up herlittle red mouth and shone in her great eyes, which were of the clearestblue. When she came to certain rather lively verses a delicate sense ofenjoyment made her tilt her nose, the rosy nostrils of which lifted andfell, while a bright flush suffused her cheeks. She still swung herselfup and down, for she only knew how to do that. And the trick was nolonger voted ugly; on the contrary, the men raised their opera glasses. When she came to the end of a verse her voice completely failed her, andshe was well aware that she never would get through with it. Thereupon, rather than fret herself, she kicked up her leg, which forthwith wasroundly outlined under her diaphanous tunic, bent sharply backward, sothat her bosom was thrown upward and forward, and stretched her armsout. Applause burst forth on all sides. In the twinkling of an eye shehad turned on her heel and was going up the stage, presenting the napeof her neck to the spectators' gaze, a neck where the red-gold hairshowed like some animal's fell. Then the plaudits became frantic. 

The close of the act was not so exciting. Vulcan wanted to slap Venus. The gods held a consultation and decided to go and hold an inquiry onearth before granting the deceived husband satisfaction. It was thenthat Diana surprised a tender conversation between Venus and Mars andvowed that she would not take her eyes off them during the whole ofthe voyage. There was also a scene where Love, played by a littletwelve-year-old chit, answered every question put to her with "Yes, Mamma! No, Mamma!" in a winy-piny tone, her fingers in her nose. At lastJupiter, with the severity of a master who is growing cross, shut Loveup in a dark closet, bidding her conjugate the verb "I love" twentytimes. The finale was more appreciated: it was a chorus which bothtroupe and orchestra performed with great brilliancy. But the curtainonce down, the clappers tried in vain to obtain a call, while the wholehouse was already up and making for the doors. 

The crowd trampled and jostled, jammed, as it were, between the rowsof seats, and in so doing exchanged expressions. One phrase only wentround:

"It's idiotic. " A critic was saying that it would be one's duty to doa pretty bit of slashing. The piece, however, mattered very little, forpeople were talking about Nana before everything else. Fauchery and LaFaloise, being among the earliest to emerge, met Steiner and Mignon inthe passage outside the stalls. In this gaslit gut of a place, which wasas narrow and circumscribed as a gallery in a mine, one was well-nighsuffocated. They stopped a moment at the foot of the stairs on theright of the house, protected by the final curve of the balusters. The audience from the cheap places were coming down the steps witha continuous tramp of heavy boots; a stream of black dress coats waspassing, while an attendant was making every possible effort to protecta chair, on which she had piled up coats and cloaks, from the onwardpushing of the crowd. 

"Surely I know her, " cried Steiner, the moment he perceived Fauchery. "I'm certain I've seen her somewhere--at the casino, I imagine, and shegot herself taken up there--she was so drunk. "

"As for me, " said the journalist, "I don't quite know where it was. I amlike you; I certainly have come across her. "

He lowered his voice and asked, laughing:

"At the Tricons', perhaps. "

"Egad, it was in a dirty place, " Mignon declared. He seemed exasperated. "It's disgusting that the public give such a reception to the firsttrollop that comes by. There'll soon be no more decent women on thestage. Yes, I shall end by forbidding Rose to play. "

Fauchery could not restrain a smile. Meanwhile the downward shuffleof the heavy shoes on the steps did not cease, and a little man in aworkman's cap was heard crying in a drawling voice:

"Oh my, she ain't no wopper! There's some pickings there!"

In the passage two young men, delicately curled and formally resplendentin turndown collars and the rest, were disputing together. One ofthem was repeating the words, "Beastly, beastly!" without stating anyreasons; the other was replying with the words, "Stunning, stunning!" asthough he, too, disdained all argument. 

La Faloise declared her to be quite the thing; only he ventured toopine that she would be better still if she were to cultivate her voice. Steiner, who was no longer listening, seemed to awake with a start. Whatever happens, one must wait, he thought. Perhaps everything will bespoiled in the following acts. The public had shown complaisance, but itwas certainly not yet taken by storm. Mignon swore that the piece wouldnever finish, and when Fauchery and La Faloise left them in order togo up to the foyer he took Steiner's arm and, leaning hard against hisshoulder, whispered in his ear:

"You're going to see my wife's costume for the second act, old fellow. It IS just blackguardly. "

Upstairs in the foyer three glass chandeliers burned with a brilliantlight. The two cousins hesitated an instant before entering, for thewidely opened glazed doors afforded a view right through the gallery--aview of a surging sea of heads, which two currents, as it were, kept ina continuous eddying movement. But they entered after all. Five or sixgroups of men, talking very loudly and gesticulating, were obstinatelydiscussing the play amid these violent interruptions; others were filinground, their heels, as they turned, sounding sharply on the waxed floor. To right and left, between columns of variegated imitation marble, womenwere sitting on benches covered with red velvet and viewing the passingmovement of the crowd with an air of fatigue as though the heat hadrendered them languid. In the lofty mirrors behind them one saw thereflection of their chignons. At the end of the room, in front of thebar, a man with a huge corporation was drinking a glass of fruit syrup. 

But Fauchery, in order to breathe more freely, had gone to the balcony. La Faloise, who was studying the photographs of actresses hung in framesalternating with the mirrors between the columns, ended by followinghim. They had extinguished the line of gas jets on the facade of thetheater, and it was dark and very cool on the balcony, which seemedto them unoccupied. Solitary and enveloped in shadow, a young man wasstanding, leaning his arms on the stone balustrade, in the recess to theright. He was smoking a cigarette, of which the burning end shone redly. Fauchery recognized Daguenet. They shook hands warmly. 

"What are you after there, my dear fellow?" asked the journalist. "You're hiding yourself in holes and crannies--you, a man who neverleaves the stalls on a first night!"

"But I'm smoking, you see, " replied Daguenet. 

Then Fauchery, to put him out of countenance:

"Well, well! What's your opinion of the new actress? She's being roughlyhandled enough in the passages. "

"Bah!" muttered Daguenet. "They're people whom she'll have had nothingto do with!"

That was the sum of his criticism of Nana's talent. La Faloise leanedforward and looked down at the boulevard. Over against them the windowsof a hotel and of a club were brightly lit up, while on the pavementbelow a dark mass of customers occupied the tables of the Cafe deMadrid. Despite the lateness of the hour the crowd were still crushingand being crushed; people were advancing with shortened step; a throngwas constantly emerging from the Passage Jouffroy; individuals stoodwaiting five or six minutes before they could cross the roadway, to sucha distance did the string of carriages extend. 

"What a moving mass! And what a noise!" La Faloise kept reiterating, forParis still astonished him. 

The bell rang for some time; the foyer emptied. There was a hurrying ofpeople in the passages. The curtain was already up when whole bands ofspectators re-entered the house amid the irritated expressions of thosewho were once more in their places. Everyone took his seat again withan animated look and renewed attention. La Faloise directed his firstglance in Gaga's direction, but he was dumfounded at seeing by her sidethe tall fair man who but recently had been in Lucy's stage box. 

"What IS that man's name?" he asked. 

Fauchery failed to observe him. 

"Ah yes, it's Labordette, " he said at last with the same carelessmovement. The scenery of the second act came as a surprise. Itrepresented a suburban Shrove Tuesday dance at the Boule Noire. Masqueraders were trolling a catch, the chorus of which was accompaniedwith a tapping of their heels. This 'Arryish departure, which nobody hadin the least expected, caused so much amusement that the house encoredthe catch. And it was to this entertainment that the divine band, letastray by Iris, who falsely bragged that he knew the Earth well, were now come in order to proceed with their inquiry. They had put ondisguises so as to preserve their incognito. Jupiter came on the stageas King Dagobert, with his breeches inside out and a huge tin crown onhis head. Phoebus appeared as the Postillion of Lonjumeau and Minerva asa Norman nursemaid. Loud bursts of merriment greeted Mars, who wore anoutrageous uniform, suggestive of an Alpine admiral. But the shouts oflaughter became uproarious when Neptune came in view, clad in a blouse, a high, bulging workman's cap on his head, lovelocks glued to histemples. Shuffling along in slippers, he cried in a thick brogue. 

"Well, I'm blessed! When ye're a masher it'll never do not to let 'emlove yer!"

There were some shouts of "Oh! Oh!" while the ladies held their fansone degree higher. Lucy in her stage box laughed so obstreperously thatCaroline Hequet silenced her with a tap of her fan. 

From that moment forth the piece was saved--nay, more, promised a greatsuccess. This carnival of the gods, this dragging in the mud of theirOlympus, this mock at a whole religion, a whole world of poetry, appeared in the light of a royal entertainment. The fever of irreverencegained the literary first-night world: legend was trampled underfoot;ancient images were shattered. Jupiter's make-up was capital. Mars wasa success. Royalty became a farce and the army a thing of folly. WhenJupiter, grown suddenly amorous of a little laundress, began to knockoff a mad cancan, Simonne, who was playing the part of the laundress, launched a kick at the master of the immortals' nose and addressed himso drolly as "My big daddy!" that an immoderate fit of laughter shookthe whole house. While they were dancing Phoebus treated Minerva tosalad bowls of negus, and Neptune sat in state among seven or eightwomen who regaled him with cakes. Allusions were eagerly caught;indecent meanings were attached to them; harmless phrases were divertedfrom their proper significations in the light of exclamations issuingfrom the stalls. For a long time past the theatrical public had notwallowed in folly more irreverent. It rested them. 

Nevertheless, the action of the piece advanced amid these fooleries. Vulcan, as an elegant young man clad, down to his gloves, entirely inyellow and with an eyeglass stuck in his eye, was forever running afterVenus, who at last made her appearance as a fishwife, a kerchief on herhead and her bosom, covered with big gold trinkets, in great evidence. Nana was so white and plump and looked so natural in a part demandingwide hips and a voluptuous mouth that she straightway won the wholehouse. On her account Rose Mignon was forgotten, though she was made upas a delicious baby, with a wicker-work burlet on her head and a shortmuslin frock and had just sighed forth Diana's plaints in a sweetlypretty voice. The other one, the big wench who slapped her thighs andclucked like a hen, shed round her an odor of life, a sovereign femininecharm, with which the public grew intoxicated. From the second actonward everything was permitted her. She might hold herself awkwardly;she might fail to sing some note in tune; she might forget her words--itmattered not: she had only to turn and laugh to raise shouts ofapplause. When she gave her famous kick from the hip the stalls werefired, and a glow of passion rose upward, upward, from gallery togallery, till it reached the gods. It was a triumph, too, when she ledthe dance. She was at home in that: hand on hip, she enthroned Venusin the gutter by the pavement side. And the music seemed made for herplebeian voice--shrill, piping music, with reminiscences of Saint-CloudFair, wheezings of clarinets and playful trills on the part of thelittle flutes. 

Two numbers were again encored. The opening waltz, that waltz with thenaughty rhythmic beat, had returned and swept the gods with it. Juno, as a peasant woman, caught Jupiter and his little laundress cleverlyand boxed his ears. Diana, surprising Venus in the act of making anassignation with Mars, made haste to indicate hour and place to Vulcan, who cried, "I've hit on a plan!" The rest of the act did not seemvery clear. The inquiry ended in a final galop after which Jupiter, breathless, streaming with perspiration and minus his crown, declaredthat the little women of Earth were delicious and that the men were allto blame. 

The curtain was falling, when certain voices, rising above the storm ofbravos, cried uproariously:

"All! All!"

Thereupon the curtain rose again; the artistes reappeared hand in hand. In the middle of the line Nana and Rose Mignon stood side by side, bowing and curtsying. The audience applauded; the clappers shoutedacclamations. Then little by little the house emptied. 

"I must go and pay my respects to the Countess Muffat, " said La Faloise. "Exactly so; you'll present me, " replied Fauchery; "we'll go downafterward. "

But it was not easy to get to the first-tier boxes. In the passage atthe top of the stairs there was a crush. In order to get forward at allamong the various groups you had to make yourself small and to slidealong, using your elbows in so doing. Leaning under a copper lamp, wherea jet of gas was burning, the bulky critic was sitting in judgmenton the piece in presence of an attentive circle. People in passingmentioned his name to each other in muttered tones. He had laughedthe whole act through--that was the rumor going the round of thepassages--nevertheless, he was now very severe and spoke of taste andmorals. Farther off the thin-lipped critic was brimming over with abenevolence which had an unpleasant aftertaste, as of milk turned sour. 

Fauchery glanced along, scrutinizing the boxes through the roundopenings in each door. But the Count de Vandeuvres stopped him with aquestion, and when he was informed that the two cousins were going topay their respects to the Muffats, he pointed out to them box seven, from which he had just emerged. Then bending down and whispering in thejournalist's ear:

"Tell me, my dear fellow, " he said, "this Nana--surely she's the girl wesaw one evening at the corner of the Rue de Provence?"

"By Jove, you're right!" cried Fauchery. "I was saying that I had comeacross her!"

La Faloise presented his cousin to Count Muffat de Beuville, whoappeared very frigid. But on hearing the name Fauchery the countessraised her head and with a certain reserve complimented the paragraphiston his articles in the Figaro. Leaning on the velvet-covered supportin front of her, she turned half round with a pretty movement of theshoulders. They talked for a short time, and the Universal Exhibitionwas mentioned. 

"It will be very fine, " said the count, whose square-cut, regular-featured face retained a certain gravity. 

"I visited the Champ de Mars today and returned thence trulyastonished. "

"They say that things won't be ready in time, " La Faloise ventured toremark. "There's infinite confusion there--"

But the count interrupted him in his severe voice:

"Things will be ready. The emperor desires it. "

Fauchery gaily recounted how one day, when he had gone down thither insearch of a subject for an article, he had come near spending all histime in the aquarium, which was then in course of construction. Thecountess smiled. Now and again she glanced down at the body of thehouse, raising an arm which a white glove covered to the elbow andfanning herself with languid hand. The house dozed, almost deserted. Some gentlemen in the stalls had opened out newspapers, and ladiesreceived visits quite comfortably, as though they were at theirown homes. Only a well-bred whispering was audible under the greatchandelier, the light of which was softened in the fine cloud of dustraised by the confused movements of the interval. At the differententrances men were crowding in order to talk to ladies who remainedseated. They stood there motionless for a few seconds, craning forwardsomewhat and displaying the great white bosoms of their shirt fronts. 

"We count on you next Tuesday, " said the countess to La Faloise, and sheinvited Fauchery, who bowed. 

Not a word was said of the play; Nana's name was not once mentioned. Thecount was so glacially dignified that he might have been supposed to betaking part at a sitting of the legislature. In order to explain theirpresence that evening he remarked simply that his father-in-law was fondof the theater. The door of the box must have remained open, for theMarquis de Chouard, who had gone out in order to leave his seat to thevisitors, was back again. He was straightening up his tall, old figure. His face looked soft and white under a broad-brimmed hat, and with hisrestless eyes he followed the movements of the women who passed. 

The moment the countess had given her invitation Fauchery took hisleave, feeling that to talk about the play would not be quite thething. La Faloise was the last to quit the box. He had just noticedthe fair-haired Labordette, comfortably installed in the Count deVandeuvres's stage box and chatting at very close quarters with Blanchede Sivry. 

"Gad, " he said after rejoining his cousin, "that Labordette knows allthe girls then! He's with Blanche now. "

"Doubtless he knows them all, " replied Fauchery quietly. "What d'youwant to be taken for, my friend?"

The passage was somewhat cleared of people, and Fauchery was just aboutto go downstairs when Lucy Stewart called him. She was quite at theother end of the corridor, at the door of her stage box. They weregetting cooked in there, she said, and she took up the whole corridorin company with Caroline Hequet and her mother, all three nibbling burntalmonds. A box opener was chatting maternally with them. Lucy fell outwith the journalist. He was a pretty fellow; to be sure! He went up tosee other women and didn't even come and ask if they were thirsty! Then, changing the subject:

"You know, dear boy, I think Nana very nice. "

She wanted him to stay in the stage box for the last act, but he madehis escape, promising to catch them at the door afterward. Downstairsin front of the theater Fauchery and La Faloise lit cigarettes. A greatgathering blocked the sidewalk, a stream of men who had come downfrom the theater steps and were inhaling the fresh night air in theboulevards, where the roar and battle had diminished. 

Meanwhile Mignon had drawn Steiner away to the Cafe des Varietes. SeeingNana's success, he had set to work to talk enthusiastically about her, all the while observing the banker out of the corners of his eyes. Heknew him well; twice he had helped him to deceive Rose and then, thecaprice being over, had brought him back to her, faithful and repentant. In the cafe the too numerous crowd of customers were squeezingthemselves round the marble-topped tables. Several were standing up, drinking in a great hurry. The tall mirrors reflected this throngingworld of heads to infinity and magnified the narrow room beyond measurewith its three chandeliers, its moleskin-covered seats and its windingstaircase draped with red. Steiner went and seated himself at a table inthe first saloon, which opened full on the boulevard, its doors havingbeen removed rather early for the time of year. As Fauchery and LaFaloise were passing the banker stopped them. 

"Come and take a bock with us, eh?" they said. 

But he was too preoccupied by an idea; he wanted to have a bouquetthrown to Nana. At last he called a waiter belonging to the cafe, whomhe familiarly addressed as Auguste. Mignon, who was listening, looked athim so sharply that he lost countenance and stammered out:

"Two bouquets, Auguste, and deliver them to the attendant. A bouquet foreach of these ladies! Happy thought, eh?"

At the other end of the saloon, her shoulders resting against the frameof a mirror, a girl, some eighteen years of age at the outside, wasleaning motionless in front of her empty glass as though she had beenbenumbed by long and fruitless waiting. Under the natural curls of herbeautiful gray-gold hair a virginal face looked out at you with velvetyeyes, which were at once soft and candid. 

She wore a dress of faded green silk and a round hat which blows haddinted. The cool air of the night made her look very pale. 

"Egad, there's Satin, " murmured Fauchery when his eye lit upon her. 

La Faloise questioned him. Oh dear, yes, she was a streetwalker--shedidn't count. But she was such a scandalous sort that people amusedthemselves by making her talk. And the journalist, raising his voice:

"What are you doing there, Satin?"

"I'm bogging, " replied Satin quietly without changing position. 

The four men were charmed and fell a-laughing. Mignon assured them thatthere was no need to hurry; it would take twenty minutes to set up thescenery for the third act. But the two cousins, having drunk their beer, wanted to go up into the theater again; the cold was making itself felt. Then Mignon remained alone with Steiner, put his elbows on the table andspoke to him at close quarters. 

"It's an understood thing, eh? We are to go to her house, and I'm tointroduce you. You know the thing's quite between ourselves--my wifeneedn't know. "

Once more in their places, Fauchery and La Faloise noticed a pretty, quietly dressed woman in the second tier of boxes. She was with aserious-looking gentleman, a chief clerk at the office of the Ministryof the Interior, whom La Faloise knew, having met him at the Muffats'. As to Fauchery, he was under the impression that her name was MadameRobert, a lady of honorable repute who had a lover, only one, and thatalways a person of respectability. 

But they had to turn round, for Daguenet was smiling at them. Now thatNana had had a success he no longer hid himself: indeed, he had justbeen scoring triumphs in the passages. By his side was the young truantschoolboy, who had not quitted his seat, so stupefying was the stateof admiration into which Nana had plunged him. That was it, he thought;that was the woman! And he blushed as he thought so and dragged hisgloves on and off mechanically. Then since his neighbor had spoken ofNana, he ventured to question him. 

"Will you pardon me for asking you, sir, but that lady who is acting--doyou know her?"

"Yes, I do a little, " murmured Daguenet with some surprise andhesitation. 

"Then you know her address?"

The question, addressed as it was to him, came so abruptly that he feltinclined to respond with a box on the ear. 

"No, " he said in a dry tone of voice. 

And with that he turned his back. The fair lad knew that he had justbeen guilty of some breach of good manners. He blushed more hotly thanever and looked scared. 

The traditional three knocks were given, and among the returning throng, attendants, laden with pelisses and overcoats, bustled about at a greatrate in order to put away people's things. The clappers applauded thescenery, which represented a grotto on Mount Etna, hollowed out in asilver mine and with sides glittering like new money. In the backgroundVulcan's forge glowed like a setting star. Diana, since the second act, had come to a good understanding with the god, who was to pretend thathe was on a journey, so as to leave the way clear for Venus and Mars. Then scarcely was Diana alone than Venus made her appearance. A shiverof delight ran round the house. Nana was nude. With quiet audacity sheappeared in her nakedness, certain of the sovereign power of her flesh. Some gauze enveloped her, but her rounded shoulders, her Amazonianbosom, her wide hips, which swayed to and fro voluptuously, her wholebody, in fact, could be divined, nay discerned, in all its foamlikewhiteness of tint beneath the slight fabric she wore. It was Venusrising from the waves with no veil save her tresses. And when Nanalifted her arms the golden hairs in her armpits were observable in theglare of the footlights. There was no applause. Nobody laughed any more. The men strained forward with serious faces, sharp features, mouthsirritated and parched. A wind seemed to have passed, a soft, soft wind, laden with a secret menace. Suddenly in the bouncing child the womanstood discovered, a woman full of restless suggestion, who brought withher the delirium of sex and opened the gates of the unknown world ofdesire. Nana was smiling still, but her smile was now bitter, as of adevourer of men. 

"By God, " said Fauchery quite simply to La Faloise. 

Mars in the meantime, with his plume of feathers, came hurrying to thetrysting place and found himself between the two goddesses. Then ensueda passage which Prulliere played with great delicacy. Petted by Diana, who wanted to make a final attack upon his feelings before deliveringhim up to Vulcan, wheedled by Venus, whom the presence of her rivalexcited, he gave himself up to these tender delights with the beatifiedexpression of a man in clover. Finally a grand trio brought the sceneto a close, and it was then that an attendant appeared in Lucy Stewart'sbox and threw on the stage two immense bouquets of white lilacs. Therewas applause; Nana and Rose Mignon bowed, while Prulliere picked up thebouquets. Many of the occupants of the stalls turned smilingly towardthe ground-floor occupied by Steiner and Mignon. The banker, his faceblood-red, was suffering from little convulsive twitchings of the chin, as though he had a stoppage in his throat. 

What followed took the house by storm completely. Diana had gone offin a rage, and directly afterward, Venus, sitting on a moss-clad seat, called Mars to her. Never yet had a more glowing scene of seductionbeen ventured on. Nana, her arms round Prulliere's neck, was drawinghim toward her when Fontan, with comically furious mimicry and anexaggerated imitation of the face of an outraged husband who surpriseshis wife in FLAGRANTE DELICTO, appeared at the back of the grotto. Hewas holding the famous net with iron meshes. For an instant he poisedand swung it, as a fisherman does when he is going to make a cast, andby an ingenious twist Venus and Mars were caught in the snare; the netwrapped itself round them and held them motionless in the attitude ofhappy lovers. 

A murmur of applause swelled and swelled like a growing sigh. There wassome hand clapping, and every opera glass was fixed on Venus. Little bylittle Nana had taken possession of the public, and now every man washer slave. 

A wave of lust had flowed from her as from an excited animal, and itsinfluence had spread and spread and spread till the whole house waspossessed by it. At that moment her slightest movement blew the flame ofdesire: with her little finger she ruled men's flesh. Backs were archedand quivered as though unseen violin bows had been drawn across theirmuscles; upon men's shoulders appeared fugitive hairs, which flew inair, blown by warm and wandering breaths, breathed one knew not fromwhat feminine mouth. In front of him Fauchery saw the truant schoolboyhalf lifted from his seat by passion. Curiosity led him to look atthe Count de Vandeuvres--he was extremely pale, and his lips lookedpinched--at fat Steiner, whose face was purple to the verge of apoplexy;at Labordette, ogling away with the highly astonished air of a horsedealer admiring a perfectly shaped mare; at Daguenet, whose ears wereblood-red and twitching with enjoyment. Then a sudden idea made himglance behind, and he marveled at what he saw in the Muffats' box. Behind the countess, who was white and serious as usual, the count wassitting straight upright, with mouth agape and face mottled with red, while close by him, in the shadow, the restless eyes of the Marquis deChouard had become catlike phosphorescent, full of golden sparkles. Thehouse was suffocating; people's very hair grew heavy on their perspiringheads. For three hours back the breath of the multitude had filledand heated the atmosphere with a scent of crowded humanity. Under theswaying glare of the gas the dust clouds in mid-air had grown constantlydenser as they hung motionless beneath the chandelier. The whole houseseemed to be oscillating, to be lapsing toward dizziness in its fatigueand excitement, full, as it was, of those drowsy midnight desires whichflutter in the recesses of the bed of passion. And Nana, in front ofthis languorous public, these fifteen hundred human beings thronged andsmothered in the exhaustion and nervous exasperation which belong to theclose of a spectacle, Nana still triumphed by right of her marble fleshand that sexual nature of hers, which was strong enough to destroy thewhole crowd of her adorers and yet sustain no injury. 

The piece drew to a close. In answer to Vulcan's triumphant summons allthe Olympians defiled before the lovers with ohs and ahs of stupefactionand gaiety. Jupiter said, "I think it is light conduct on your part, my son, to summon us to see such a sight as this. " Then a reaction tookplace in favor of Venus. The chorus of cuckolds was again ushered inby Iris and besought the master of the gods not to give effect to itspetition, for since women had lived at home, domestic life was becomingimpossible for the men: the latter preferred being deceived and happy. That was the moral of the play. Then Venus was set at liberty, andVulcan obtained a partial divorce from her. Mars was reconciled withDiana, and Jove, for the sake of domestic peace, packed his littlelaundress off into a constellation. And finally they extricated Lovefrom his black hole, where instead of conjugating the verb AMO hehad been busy in the manufacture of "dollies. " The curtain fell onan apotheosis, wherein the cuckolds' chorus knelt and sang a hymn ofgratitude to Venus, who stood there with smiling lips, her statureenhanced by her sovereign nudity. 

The audience, already on their feet, were making for the exits. Theauthors were mentioned, and amid a thunder of applause there were twocalls before the curtain. The shout of "Nana! Nana!" rang wildly forth. Then no sooner was the house empty than it grew dark: the footlightswent out; the chandelier was turned down; long strips of gray canvasslipped from the stage boxes and swathed the gilt ornamentation ofthe galleries, and the house, lately so full of heat and noise, lapsedsuddenly into a heavy sleep, while a musty, dusty odor began to pervadeit. In the front of her box stood the Countess Muffat. Very erect andclosely wrapped up in her furs, she stared at the gathering shadows andwaited for the crowd to pass away. 

In the passages the people were jostling the attendants, who hardly knewwhat to do among the tumbled heaps of outdoor raiment. Fauchery and LaFaloise had hurried in order to see the crowd pass out. All along theentrance hall men formed a living hedge, while down the double staircasecame slowly and in regular, complete formation two interminable throngsof human beings. Steiner, in tow of Mignon, had left the house amongthe foremost. The Count de Vandeuvres took his departure with Blanchede Sivry on his arm. For a moment or two Gaga and her daughter seemeddoubtful how to proceed, but Labordette made haste to go and fetch thema conveyance, the door whereof he gallantly shut after them. Nobody sawDaguenet go by. As the truant schoolboy, registering a mental vow towait at the stage door, was running with burning cheeks toward thePassage des Panoramas, of which he found the gate closed, Satin, standing on the edge of the pavement, moved forward and brushed him withher skirts, but he in his despair gave her a savage refusal and vanishedamid the crowd, tears of impotent desire in his eyes. Members of theaudience were lighting their cigars and walking off, humming:

When Venus roams at eventide. 

Satin had gone back in front of the Cafe des Varietes, where Auguste lether eat the sugar that remained over from the customers' orders. A stoutman, who came out in a very heated condition, finally carried her off inthe shadow of the boulevard, which was now gradually going to sleep. 

Still people kept coming downstairs. La Faloise was waiting forClarisse; Fauchery had promised to catch up Lucy Stewart with CarolineHequet and her mother. They came; they took up a whole corner of theentrance hall and were laughing very loudly when the Muffats passed bythem with an icy expression. Bordenave had just then opened a littledoor and, peeping out, had obtained from Fauchery the formal promiseof an article. He was dripping with perspiration, his face blazed, asthough he were drunk with success. 

"You're good for two hundred nights, " La Faloise said to him withcivility. "The whole of Paris will visit your theater. "

But Bordenave grew annoyed and, indicating with a jerk of his chin thepublic who filled the entrance hall--a herd of men with parched lipsand ardent eyes, still burning with the enjoyment of Nana--he cried outviolently:

"Say 'my brothel, ' you obstinate devil!"

CHAPTER II

At ten o'clock the next morning Nana was still asleep. She occupiedthe second floor of a large new house in the Boulevard Haussmann, thelandlord of which let flats to single ladies in order by their meansto dry the paint. A rich merchant from Moscow, who had come to pass awinter in Paris, had installed her there after paying six months' rentin advance. The rooms were too big for her and had never been completelyfurnished. The vulgar sumptuosity of gilded consoles and gilded chairsformed a crude contrast therein to the bric-a-brac of a secondhandfurniture shop--to mahogany round tables, that is to say, and zinccandelabras, which sought to imitate Florentine bronze. All of whichsmacked of the courtesan too early deserted by her first seriousprotector and fallen back on shabby lovers, of a precarious firstappearance of a bad start, handicapped by refusals of credit and threatsof eviction. 

Nana was sleeping on her face, hugging in her bare arms a pillow inwhich she was burying cheeks grown pale in sleep. The bedroom and thedressing room were the only two apartments which had been properlyfurnished by a neighboring upholsterer. A ray of light, gliding inunder a curtain, rendered visible rosewood furniture and hangings andchairbacks of figured damask with a pattern of big blue flowers on agray ground. But in the soft atmosphere of that slumbering chamber Nanasuddenly awoke with a start, as though surprised to find an empty placeat her side. She looked at the other pillow lying next to hers; therewas the dint of a human head among its flounces: it was still warm. Andgroping with one hand, she pressed the knob of an electric bell by herbed's head. 

"He's gone then?" she asked the maid who presented herself. 

"Yes, madame, Monsieur Paul went away not ten minutes back. As Madamewas tired, he did not wish to wake her. But he ordered me to tell Madamethat he would come tomorrow. "

As she spoke Zoe, the lady's maid, opened the outer shutter. A flood ofdaylight entered. Zoe, a dark brunette with hair in little plaits, hada long canine face, at once livid and full of seams, a snub nose, thicklips and two black eyes in continual movement. 

"Tomorrow, tomorrow, " repeated Nana, who was not yet wide awake, "istomorrow the day?"

"Yes, madame, Monsieur Paul has always come on the Wednesday. "

"No, now I remember, " said the young woman, sitting up. "It's allchanged. I wanted to tell him so this morning. He would run against thenigger! We should have a nice to-do!"

"Madame did not warn me; I couldn't be aware of it, " murmured Zoe. "WhenMadame changes her days she will do well to tell me so that I may know. Then the old miser is no longer due on the Tuesday?"

Between themselves they were wont thus gravely to nickname as "oldmiser" and "nigger" their two paying visitors, one of whom was atradesman of economical tendencies from the Faubourg Saint-Denis, whilethe other was a Walachian, a mock count, whose money, paid always at themost irregular intervals, never looked as though it had been honestlycome by. Daguenet had made Nana give him the days subsequent to the oldmiser's visits, and as the trader had to be at home by eight o'clockin the morning, the young man would watch for his departure from Zoeskitchen and would take his place, which was still quite warm, till teno'clock. Then he, too, would go about his business. Nana and he werewont to think it a very comfortable arrangement. 

"So much the worse, " said Nana; "I'll write to him this afternoon. Andif he doesn't receive my letter, then tomorrow you will stop him comingin. "

In the meantime Zoe was walking softly about the room. She spoke ofyesterday's great hit. Madame had shown such talent; she sang so well!Ah! Madame need not fret at all now!

Nana, her elbow dug into her pillow, only tossed her head in reply. Hernightdress had slipped down on her shoulders, and her hair, unfastenedand entangled, flowed over them in masses. 

"Without doubt, " she murmured, becoming thoughtful; "but what's to bedone to gain time? I'm going to have all sorts of bothers today. Nowlet's see, has the porter come upstairs yet this morning?"

Then both the women talked together seriously. Nana owed three quarters'rent; the landlord was talking of seizing the furniture. Then, too, there was a perfect downpour of creditors; there was a livery-stableman, a needlewoman, a ladies' tailor, a charcoal dealer and othersbesides, who came every day and settled themselves on a bench in thelittle hall. The charcoal dealer especially was a dreadful fellow--heshouted on the staircase. But Nana's greatest cause of distress was herlittle Louis, a child she had given birth to when she was sixteenand now left in charge of a nurse in a village in the neighborhoodof Rambouillet. This woman was clamoring for the sum of three hundredfrancs before she would consent to give the little Louis back to her. Nana, since her last visit to the child, had been seized with a fitof maternal love and was desperate at the thought that she could notrealize a project, which had now become a hobby with her. This was topay off the nurse and to place the little man with his aunt, Mme Lerat, at the Batignolles, whither she could go and see him as often as sheliked. 

Meanwhile the lady's maid kept hinting that her mistress ought to haveconfided her necessities to the old miser. 

"To be sure, I told him everything, " cried Nana, "and he told me inanswer that he had too many big liabilities. He won't go beyond histhousand francs a month. The nigger's beggared just at present; I expecthe's lost at play. As to that poor Mimi, he stands in great need of aloan himself; a fall in stocks has cleaned him out--he can't even bringme flowers now. "

She was speaking of Daguenet. In the self-abandonment of her awakeningshe had no secrets from Zoe, and the latter, inured to such confidences, received them with respectful sympathy. Since Madame condescended tospeak to her of her affairs she would permit herself to say what shethought. Besides, she was very fond of Madame; she had left Mme Blanchefor the express purpose of taking service with her, and heaven knew MmeBlanche was straining every nerve to have her again! Situations weren'tlacking; she was pretty well known, but she would have stayed withMadame even in narrow circumstances, because she believed in Madame'sfuture. And she concluded by stating her advice with precision. When onewas young one often did silly things. But this time it was one's duty tolook alive, for the men only thought of having their fun. Oh dear, yes!Things would right themselves. Madame had only to say one word in orderto quiet her creditors and find the money she stood in need of. 

"All that doesn't help me to three hundred francs, " Nana kept repeatingas she plunged her fingers into the vagrant convolutions of her backhair. "I must have three hundred francs today, at once! It's stupid notto know anyone who'll give you three hundred francs. "

She racked her brains. She would have sent Mme Lerat, whom she wasexpecting that very morning, to Rambouillet. The counteraction of hersudden fancy spoiled for her the triumph of last night. Among all thosemen who had cheered her, to think that there wasn't one to bring herfifteen louis! And then one couldn't accept money in that way! Dearheaven, how unfortunate she was! And she kept harking back again to thesubject of her baby--he had blue eyes like a cherub's; he could lisp"Mamma" in such a funny voice that you were ready to die of laughing!

But at this moment the electric bell at the outer door was heard to ringwith its quick and tremulous vibration. Zoe returned, murmuring with aconfidential air:

"It's a woman. "

She had seen this woman a score of times, only she made believe neverto recognize her and to be quite ignorant of the nature of her relationswith ladies in difficulties. 

"She has told me her name--Madame Tricon. "

"The Tricon, " cried Nana. "Dear me! That's true. I'd forgotten her. Showher in. "

Zoe ushered in a tall old lady who wore ringlets and looked likea countess who haunts lawyers' offices. Then she effaced herself, disappearing noiselessly with the lithe, serpentine movement wherewithshe was wont to withdraw from a room on the arrival of a gentleman. However, she might have stayed. The Tricon did not even sit down. Only abrief exchange of words took place. 

"I have someone for you today. Do you care about it?"

"Yes. How much?"

"Twenty louis. "

"At what o'clock?"

"At three. It's settled then?"

"It's settled. "

Straightway the Tricon talked of the state of the weather. It was dryweather, pleasant for walking. She had still four or five persons tosee. And she took her departure after consulting a small memorandumbook. When she was once more alone Nana appeared comforted. A slightshiver agitated her shoulders, and she wrapped herself softly upagain in her warm bedclothes with the lazy movements of a cat who issusceptible to cold. Little by little her eyes closed, and she laysmiling at the thought of dressing Louiset prettily on the followingday, while in the slumber into which she once more sank last night'slong, feverish dream of endlessly rolling applause returned like asustained accompaniment to music and gently soothed her lassitude. 

At eleven o'clock, when Zoe showed Mme Lerat into the room, Nana wasstill asleep. But she woke at the noise and cried out at once:

"It's you. You'll go to Rambouillet today?"

"That's what I've come for, " said the aunt. "There's a train at twentypast twelve. I've got time to catch it. "

"No, I shall only have the money by and by, " replied the young woman, stretching herself and throwing out her bosom. "You'll have lunch, andthen we'll see. "

Zoe brought a dressing jacket. 

"The hairdresser's here, madame, " she murmured. 

But Nana did not wish to go into the dressing room. And she herselfcried out:

"Come in, Francis. "

A well-dressed man pushed open the door and bowed. Just at that momentNana was getting out of bed, her bare legs in full view. But she did nothurry and stretched her hands out so as to let Zoe draw on the sleevesof the dressing jacket. Francis, on his part, was quite at his ease andwithout turning away waited with a sober expression on his face. 

"Perhaps Madame has not seen the papers. There's a very nice article inthe Figaro. "

He had brought the journal. Mme Lerat put on her spectacles and read thearticle aloud, standing in front of the window as she did so. She hadthe build of a policeman, and she drew herself up to her full height, while her nostrils seemed to compress themselves whenever she uttereda gallant epithet. It was a notice by Fauchery, written just after theperformance, and it consisted of a couple of very glowing columns, fullof witty sarcasm about the artist and of broad admiration for the woman. 

"Excellent!" Francis kept repeating. 

Nana laughed good-humoredly at his chaffing her about her voice! Hewas a nice fellow, was that Fauchery, and she would repay him for hischarming style of writing. Mme Lerat, after having reread the notice, roundly declared that the men all had the devil in their shanks, and sherefused to explain her self further, being fully satisfied with a briskallusion of which she alone knew the meaning. Francis finished turningup and fastening Nana's hair. He bowed and said:

"I'll keep my eye on the evening papers. At half-past five as usual, eh?"

"Bring me a pot of pomade and a pound of burnt almonds from Boissier's, "Nana cried to him across the drawing room just as he was shutting thedoor after him. 

Then the two women, once more alone, recollected that they had notembraced, and they planted big kisses on each other's cheeks. The noticewarmed their hearts. Nana, who up till now had been half asleep, wasagain seized with the fever of her triumph. Dear, dear, 'twas RoseMignon that would be spending a pleasant morning! Her aunt having beenunwilling to go to the theater because, as she averred, sudden emotionsruined her stomach, Nana set herself to describe the events of theevening and grew intoxicated at her own recital, as though all Paris hadbeen shaken to the ground by the applause. Then suddenly interruptingherself, she asked with a laugh if one would ever have imagined it allwhen she used to go traipsing about the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or. Mme Leratshook her head. No, no, one never could have foreseen it! And she begantalking in her turn, assuming a serious air as she did so and callingNana "daughter. " Wasn't she a second mother to her since the first hadgone to rejoin Papa and Grandmamma? Nana was greatly softened and on theverge of tears. But Mme Lerat declared that the past was the past--ohyes, to be sure, a dirty past with things in it which it was as well notto stir up every day. She had left off seeing her niece for a long timebecause among the family she was accused of ruining herself along withthe little thing. Good God, as though that were possible! She didn't askfor confidences; she believed that Nana had always lived decently, andnow it was enough for her to have found her again in a fine position andto observe her kind feelings toward her son. Virtue and hard work werestill the only things worth anything in this world. 

"Who is the baby's father?" she said, interrupting herself, her eyes litup with an expression of acute curiosity. 

Nana was taken by surprise and hesitated a moment. 

"A gentleman, " she replied. 

"There now!" rejoined the aunt. "They declared that you had him by astonemason who was in the habit of beating you. Indeed, you shall tellme all about it someday; you know I'm discreet! Tut, tut, I'll lookafter him as though he were a prince's son. "

She had retired from business as a florist and was living on hersavings, which she had got together sou by sou, till now they broughther in an income of six hundred francs a year. Nana promised to rentsome pretty little lodgings for her and to give her a hundred francs amonth besides. At the mention of this sum the aunt forgot herself andshrieked to her niece, bidding her squeeze their throats, since she hadthem in her grasp. She was meaning the men, of course. Then they bothembraced again, but in the midst of her rejoicing Nana's face, as sheled the talk back to the subject of Louiset, seemed to be overshadowedby a sudden recollection. 

"Isn't it a bore I've got to go out at three o'clock?" she muttered. "ItIS a nuisance!"

Just then Zoe came in to say that lunch was on the table. They went intothe dining room, where an old lady was already seated at table. She hadnot taken her hat off, and she wore a dark dress of an indecisive colormidway between puce and goose dripping. Nana did not seem surprised atsight of her. She simply asked her why she hadn't come into the bedroom. 

"I heard voices, " replied the old lady. "I thought you had company. "

Mme Maloir, a respectable-looking and mannerly woman, was Nana's oldfriend, chaperon and companion. Mme Lerat's presence seemed to fidgether at first. Afterward, when she became aware that it was Nana's aunt, she looked at her with a sweet expression and a die-away smile. Inthe meantime Nana, who averred that she was as hungry as a wolf, threwherself on the radishes and gobbled them up without bread. Mme Lerat hadbecome ceremonious; she refused the radishes as provocative of phlegm. By and by when Zoe had brought in the cutlets Nana just chipped themeat and contented herself with sucking the bones. Now and again shescrutinized her old friend's hat out of the corners of her eyes. 

"It's the new hat I gave you?" she ended by saying. 

"Yes, I made it up, " murmured Mme Maloir, her mouth full of meat. 

The hat was smart to distraction. In front it was greatly exaggerated, and it was adorned with a lofty feather. Mme Maloir had a mania fordoing up all her hats afresh; she alone knew what really became her, and with a few stitches she could manufacture a toque out of the mostelegant headgear. Nana, who had bought her this very hat in order not tobe ashamed of her when in her company out of doors, was very near beingvexed. 

"Push it up, at any rate, " she cried. 

"No, thank you, " replied the old lady with dignity. "It doesn't get inmy way; I can eat very comfortably as it is. "

After the cutlets came cauliflowers and the remains of a cold chicken. But at the arrival of each successive dish Nana made a little face, hesitated, sniffed and left her plateful untouched. She finished herlunch with the help of preserve. 

Dessert took a long time. Zoe did not remove the cloth before servingthe coffee. Indeed, the ladies simply pushed back their plates beforetaking it. They talked continually of yesterday's charming evening. Nanakept rolling cigarettes, which she smoked, swinging up and down on herbackward-tilted chair. And as Zoe had remained behind and was loungingidly against the sideboard, it came about that the company were favoredwith her history. She said she was the daughter of a midwife at Bercywho had failed in business. First of all she had taken service with adentist and after that with an insurance agent, but neither place suitedher, and she thereupon enumerated, not without a certain amount ofpride, the names of the ladies with whom she had served as lady'smaid. Zoe spoke of these ladies as one who had had the making of theirfortunes. It was very certain that without her more than one would havehad some queer tales to tell. Thus one day, when Mme Blanche was with M. Octave, in came the old gentleman. What did Zoe do? She made believeto tumble as she crossed the drawing room; the old boy rushed up to herassistance, flew to the kitchen to fetch her a glass of water, and M. Octave slipped away. 

"Oh, she's a good girl, you bet!" said Nana, who was listening to herwith tender interest and a sort of submissive admiration. 

"Now I've had my troubles, " began Mme Lerat. And edging up to MmeMaloir, she imparted to her certain confidential confessions. Bothladies took lumps of sugar dipped in cognac and sucked them. ButMme Maloir was wont to listen to other people's secrets without evenconfessing anything concerning herself. People said that she lived on amysterious allowance in a room whither no one ever penetrated. 

All of a sudden Nana grew excited. 

"Don't play with the knives, Aunt. You know it gives me a turn!"

Without thinking about it Mme Lerat had crossed two knives on the tablein front of her. Notwithstanding this, the young woman defended herselffrom the charge of superstition. Thus, if the salt were upset, it meantnothing, even on a Friday; but when it came to knives, that was too muchof a good thing; that had never proved fallacious. There could be nodoubt that something unpleasant was going to happen to her. She yawned, and then with an air, of profound boredom:

"Two o'clock already. I must go out. What a nuisance!"

The two old ladies looked at one another. The three women shook theirheads without speaking. To be sure, life was not always amusing. Nanahad tilted her chair back anew and lit a cigarette, while the others satpursing up their lips discreetly, thinking deeply philosophic thoughts. 

"While waiting for you to return we'll play a game of bezique, " said MmeMaloir after a short silence. "Does Madame play bezique?"

Certainly Mme Lerat played it, and that to perfection. It was no goodtroubling Zoe, who had vanished--a corner of the table would do quitewell. And they pushed back the tablecloth over the dirty plates. But asMme Maloir was herself going to take the cards out of a drawer in thesideboard, Nana remarked that before she sat down to her game it wouldbe very nice of her if she would write her a letter. It bored Nana towrite letters; besides, she was not sure of her spelling, while her oldfriend could turn out the most feeling epistles. She ran to fetch somegood note paper in her bedroom. An inkstand consisting of a bottleof ink worth about three sous stood untidily on one of the piecesof furniture, with a pen deep in rust beside it. The letter was forDaguenet. Mme Maloir herself wrote in her bold English hand, "My darlinglittle man, " and then she told him not to come tomorrow because "thatcould not be" but hastened to add that "she was with him in thought atevery moment of the day, whether she were near or far away. "

"And I end with 'a thousand kisses, '" she murmured. 

Mme Lerat had shown her approval of each phrase with an emphatic nod. Her eyes were sparkling; she loved to find herself in the midst of loveaffairs. Nay, she was seized with a desire to add some words of her ownand, assuming a tender look and cooing like a dove, she suggested:

"A thousand kisses on thy beautiful eyes. "

"That's the thing: 'a thousand kisses on thy beautiful eyes'!" Nanarepeated, while the two old ladies assumed a beatified expression. 

Zoe was rung for and told to take the letter down to a commissionaire. She had just been talking with the theater messenger, who had broughther mistress the day's playbill and rehearsal arrangements, which he hadforgotten in the morning. Nana had this individual ushered in and gothim to take the latter to Daguenet on his return. Then she put questionsto him. Oh yes! M. Bordenave was very pleased; people had already takenseats for a week to come; Madame had no idea of the number of people whohad been asking her address since morning. When the man had taken hisdeparture Nana announced that at most she would only be out half anhour. If there were any visitors Zoe would make them wait. As she spokethe electric bell sounded. It was a creditor in the shape of the man ofwhom she jobbed her carriages. He had settled himself on the benchin the anteroom, and the fellow was free to twiddle his thumbs tillnight--there wasn't the least hurry now. 

"Come, buck up!" said Nana, still torpid with laziness and yawning andstretching afresh. "I ought to be there now!"

Yet she did not budge but kept watching the play of her aunt, who hadjust announced four aces. Chin on hand, she grew quite engrossed in itbut gave a violent start on hearing three o'clock strike. 

"Good God!" she cried roughly. 

Then Mme Maloir, who was counting the tricks she had won with her tensand aces, said cheeringly to her in her soft voice:

"It would be better, dearie, to give up your expedition at once. "

"No, be quick about it, " said Mme Lerat, shuffling the cards. "I shalltake the half-past four o'clock train if you're back here with the moneybefore four o'clock. "

"Oh, there'll be no time lost, " she murmured. 

Ten minutes after Zoe helped her on with a dress and a hat. It didn'tmatter much if she were badly turned out. Just as she was about togo downstairs there was a new ring at the bell. This time it was thecharcoal dealer. Very well, he might keep the livery-stable keepercompany--it would amuse the fellows. Only, as she dreaded a scene, shecrossed the kitchen and made her escape by the back stairs. She oftenwent that way and in return had only to lift up her flounces. 

"When one is a good mother anything's excusable, " said Mme Maloirsententiously when left alone with Mme Lerat. 

"Four kings, " replied this lady, whom the play greatly excited. 

And they both plunged into an interminable game. 

The table had not been cleared. The smell of lunch and the cigarettesmoke filled the room with an ambient, steamy vapor. The two ladies hadagain set to work dipping lumps of sugar in brandy and sucking the same. For twenty minutes at least they played and sucked simultaneously when, the electric bell having rung a third time, Zoe bustled into the roomand roughly disturbed them, just as if they had been her own friends. 

"Look here, that's another ring. You can't stay where you are. If manyfolks call I must have the whole flat. Now off you go, off you go!"

Mme Maloir was for finishing the game, but Zoe looked as if she wasgoing to pounce down on the cards, and so she decided to carry them offwithout in any way altering their positions, while Mme Lerat undertookthe removal of the brandy bottle, the glasses and the sugar. Then theyboth scudded to the kitchen, where they installed themselves at thetable in an empty space between the dishcloths, which were spread out todry, and the bowl still full of dishwater. 

"We said it was three hundred and forty. It's your turn. "

"I play hearts. "

When Zoe returned she found them once again absorbed. After a silence, as Mme Lerat was shuffling, Mme Maloir asked who it was. 

"Oh, nobody to speak of, " replied the servant carelessly; "a slip of alad! I wanted to send him away again, but he's such a pretty boy withnever a hair on his chin and blue eyes and a girl's face! So I told himto wait after all. He's got an enormous bouquet in his hand, which henever once consented to put down. One would like to catch him one--abrat like that who ought to be at school still!"

Mme Lerat went to fetch a water bottle to mix herself some brandy andwater, the lumps of sugar having rendered her thirsty. Zoe mutteredsomething to the effect that she really didn't mind if she dranksomething too. Her mouth, she averred, was as bitter as gall. 

"So you put him--?" continued Mme Maloir. 

"Oh yes, I put him in the closet at the end of the room, the littleunfurnished one. There's only one of my lady's trunks there and a table. It's there I stow the lubbers. "

And she was putting plenty of sugar in her grog when the electric bellmade her jump. Oh, drat it all! Wouldn't they let her have a drinkin peace? If they were to have a peal of bells things promised well. Nevertheless, she ran off to open the door. Returning presently, she sawMme Maloir questioning her with a glance. 

"It's nothing, " she said, "only a bouquet. "

All three refreshed themselves, nodding to each other in token ofsalutation. Then while Zoe was at length busy clearing the table, bringing the plates out one by one and putting them in the sink, twoother rings followed close upon one another. But they weren't serious, for while keeping the kitchen informed of what was going on she twicerepeated her disdainful expression:

"Nothing, only a bouquet. "

Notwithstanding which, the old ladies laughed between two of theirtricks when they heard her describe the looks of the creditors in theanteroom after the flowers had arrived. Madame would find her bouquetson her toilet table. What a pity it was they cost such a lot and thatyou could only get ten sous for them! Oh dear, yes, plenty of money waswasted!

"For my part, " said Mme Maloir, "I should be quite content if everyday of my life I got what the men in Paris had spent on flowers for thewomen. "

"Now, you know, you're not hard to please, " murmured Mme Lerat. "Why, one would have only just enough to buy thread with. Four queens, mydear. "

It was ten minutes to four. Zoe was astonished, could not understandwhy her mistress was out so long. Ordinarily when Madame found herselfobliged to go out in the afternoons she got it over in double-quicktime. But Mme Maloir declared that one didn't always manage things asone wished. Truly, life was beset with obstacles, averred Mme Lerat. Thebest course was to wait. If her niece was long in coming it was becauseher occupations detained her; wasn't it so? Besides, they weren'toverworked--it was comfortable in the kitchen. And as hearts were out, Mme Lerat threw down diamonds. 

The bell began again, and when Zoe reappeared she was burning withexcitement. 

"My children, it's fat Steiner!" she said in the doorway, lowering hervoice as she spoke. "I've put HIM in the little sitting room. "

Thereupon Mme Maloir spoke about the banker to Mme Lerat, who knew nosuch gentleman. Was he getting ready to give Rose Mignon the go-by? Zoeshook her head; she knew a thing or two. But once more she had to go andopen the door. 

"Here's bothers!" she murmured when she came back. "It's the nigger!'Twasn't any good telling him that my lady's gone out, and so he'ssettled himself in the bedroom. We only expected him this evening. "

At a quarter past four Nana was not in yet. What could she be after?It was silly of her! Two other bouquets were brought round, and Zoe, growing bored looked to see if there were any coffee left. Yes, theladies would willingly finish off the coffee; it would waken them up. Sitting hunched up on their chairs, they were beginning to fall asleepthrough dint of constantly taking their cards between their fingers withthe accustomed movement. The half-hour sounded. Something must decidedlyhave happened to Madame. And they began whispering to each other. 

Suddenly Mme Maloir forgot herself and in a ringing voice announced:"I've the five hundred! Trumps, Major Quint!"

"Oh, do be quiet!" said Zoe angrily. "What will all those gentlementhink?" And in the silence which ensued and amid the whispered mutteringof the two old women at strife over their game, the sound of rapidfootsteps ascended from the back stairs. It was Nana at last. Beforeshe had opened the door her breathlessness became audible. She bouncedabruptly in, looking very red in the face. Her skirt, the string ofwhich must have been broken, was trailing over the stairs, and herflounces had just been dipped in a puddle of something unpleasant whichhad oozed out on the landing of the first floor, where the servant girlwas a regular slut. 

"Here you are! It's lucky!" said Mme Lerat, pursing up her lips, forshe was still vexed at Mme Maloir's "five hundred. " "You may flatteryourself at the way you keep folks waiting. "

"Madame isn't reasonable; indeed, she isn't!" added Zoe. 

Nana was already harassed, and these reproaches exasperated her. Wasthat the way people received her after the worry she had gone through?

"Will you blooming well leave me alone, eh?" she cried. 

"Hush, ma'am, there are people in there, " said the maid. 

Then in lower tones the young Woman stuttered breathlessly:

"D'you suppose I've been having a good time? Why, there was no end toit. I should have liked to see you there! I was boiling with rage!I felt inclined to smack somebody. And never a cab to come home in!Luckily it's only a step from here, but never mind that; I did just runhome. "

"You have the money?" asked the aunt. 

"Dear, dear! That question!" rejoined Nana. 

She had sat herself down on a chair close up against the stove, for herlegs had failed her after so much running, and without stopping to takebreath she drew from behind her stays an envelope in which there werefour hundred-franc notes. They were visible through a large rent she hadtorn with savage fingers in order to be sure of the contents. The threewomen round about her stared fixedly at the envelope, a big, crumpled, dirty receptacle, as it lay clasped in her small gloved hands. 

It was too late now--Mme Lerat would not go to Rambouillet tilltomorrow, and Nana entered into long explanations. 

"There's company waiting for you, " the lady's maid repeated. 

But Nana grew excited again. The company might wait: she'd go to themall in good time when she'd finished. And as her aunt began putting herhand out for the money:

"Ah no! Not all of it, " she said. "Three hundred francs for the nurse, fifty for your journey and expenses, that's three hundred and fifty. Fifty francs I keep. "

The big difficulty was how to find change. There were not ten francs inthe house. But they did not even address themselves to Mme Maloir who, never having more than a six-sou omnibus fair upon her, was listeningin quite a disinterested manner. At length Zoe went out of the room, remarking that she would go and look in her box, and she brought back ahundred francs in hundred-sou pieces. They were counted out on a cornerof the table, and Mme Lerat took her departure at once after havingpromised to bring Louiset back with her the following day. 

"You say there's company there?" continued Nana, still sitting on thechair and resting herself. 

"Yes, madame, three people. "

And Zoe mentioned the banker first. Nana made a face. Did that manSteiner think she was going to let herself be bored because he hadthrown her a bouquet yesterday evening?

"Besides, I've had enough of it, " she declared. "I shan't receive today. Go and say you don't expect me now. "

"Madame will think the matter over; Madame will receive MonsieurSteiner, " murmured Zoe gravely, without budging from her place. She wasannoyed to see her mistress on the verge of committing another foolishmistake. 

Then she mentioned the Walachian, who ought by now to find time hangingheavy on his hands in the bedroom. Whereupon Nana grew furious and moreobstinate than ever. No, she would see nobody, nobody! Who'd sent hersuch a blooming leech of a man?

"Chuck 'em all out! I--I'm going to play a game of bezique with MadameMaloir. I prefer doing that. "

The bell interrupted her remarks. That was the last straw. Another ofthe beggars yet! She forbade Zoe to go and open the door, but the latterhad left the kitchen without listening to her, and when she reappearedshe brought back a couple of cards and said authoritatively:

"I told them that Madame was receiving visitors. The gentlemen are inthe drawing room. "

Nana had sprung up, raging, but the names of the Marquis de Chouard andof Count Muffat de Beuville, which were inscribed on the cards, calmedher down. For a moment or two she remained silent. 

"Who are they?" she asked at last. "You know them?"

"I know the old fellow, " replied Zoe, discreetly pursing up her lips. 

And her mistress continuing to question her with her eyes, she addedsimply:

"I've seen him somewhere. "

This remark seemed to decide the young woman. Regretfully she left thekitchen, that asylum of steaming warmth, where you could talk and takeyour ease amid the pleasant fumes of the coffeepot which was being keptwarm over a handful of glowing embers. She left Mme Maloir behind her. That lady was now busy reading her fortune by the cards; she had neveryet taken her hat off, but now in order to be more at her ease she undidthe strings and threw them back over her shoulders. 

In the dressing room, where Zoe rapidly helped her on with a tea gown, Nana revenged herself for the way in which they were all boring her bymuttering quiet curses upon the male sex. These big words caused thelady's maid not a little distress, for she saw with pain that hermistress was not rising superior to her origin as quickly as she couldhave desired. She even made bold to beg Madame to calm herself. 

"You bet, " was Nana's crude answer; "they're swine; they glory in thatsort of thing. "

Nevertheless, she assumed her princesslike manner, as she was wont tocall it. But just when she was turning to go into the drawing room Zoeheld her back and herself introduced the Marquis de Chouard and theCount Muffat into the dressing room. It was much better so. 

"I regret having kept you waiting, gentlemen, " said the young woman withstudied politeness. 

The two men bowed and seated themselves. A blind of embroidered tullekept the little room in twilight. It was the most elegant chamber inthe flat, for it was hung with some light-colored fabric and contained acheval glass framed in inlaid wood, a lounge chair and some otherswith arms and blue satin upholsteries. On the toilet table thebouquets--roses, lilacs and hyacinths--appeared like a very ruin offlowers. Their perfume was strong and penetrating, while through thedampish air of the place, which was full of the spoiled exhalations ofthe washstand, came occasional whiffs of a more pungent scent, the scentof some grains or dry patchouli ground to fine powder at the bottom ofa cup. And as she gathered herself together and drew up her dressingjacket, which had been ill fastened, Nana had all the appearance ofhaving been surprised at her toilet: her skin was still damp; she smiledand looked quite startled amid her frills and laces. 

"Madame, you will pardon our insistence, " said the Count Muffat gravely. "We come on a quest. Monsieur and I are members of the BenevolentOrganization of the district. "

The Marquis de Chouard hastened gallantly to add:

"When we learned that a great artiste lived in this house we promisedourselves that we would put the claims of our poor people before her ina very special manner. Talent is never without a heart. "

Nana pretended to be modest. She answered them with little assentingmovements of her head, making rapid reflections at the same time. Itmust be the old man that had brought the other one: he had such wickedeyes. And yet the other was not to be trusted either: the veins nearhis temples were so queerly puffed up. He might quite well have come byhimself. Ah, now that she thought of it, it was this way: the porter hadgiven them her name, and they had egged one another on, each with hisown ends in view. 

"Most certainly, gentlemen, you were quite right to come up, " she saidwith a very good grace. 

But the electric bell made her tremble again. Another call, and that Zoealways opening the door! She went on:

"One is only too happy to be able to give. "

At bottom she was flattered. 

"Ah, madame, " rejoined the marquis, "if only you knew about it! there'ssuch misery! Our district has more than three thousand poor people init, and yet it's one of the richest. You cannot picture to yourselfanything like the present distress--children with no bread, women ill, utterly without assistance, perishing of the cold!"

"The poor souls!" cried Nana, very much moved. 

Such was her feeling of compassion that tears flooded her fine eyes. Nolonger studying deportment, she leaned forward with a quick movement, and under her open dressing jacket her neck became visible, while thebent position of her knees served to outline the rounded contour ofthe thigh under the thin fabric of her skirt. A little flush of bloodappeared in the marquis's cadaverous cheeks. Count Muffat, who was onthe point of speaking, lowered his eyes. The air of that little room wastoo hot: it had the close, heavy warmth of a greenhouse. The roses werewithering, and intoxicating odors floated up from the patchouli in thecup. 

"One would like to be very rich on occasions like this, " added Nana. "Well, well, we each do what we can. Believe me, gentlemen, if I hadknown--"

She was on the point of being guilty of a silly speech, so melted wasshe at heart. But she did not end her sentence and for a moment wasworried at not being able to remember where she had put her fifty francson changing her dress. But she recollected at last: they must be on thecorner of her toilet table under an inverted pomatum pot. As she wasin the act of rising the bell sounded for quite a long time. Capital!Another of them still! It would never end. The count and the marquis hadboth risen, too, and the ears of the latter seemed to be pricked up and, as it were, pointing toward the door; doubtless he knew that kind ofring. Muffat looked at him; then they averted their gaze mutually. Theyfelt awkward and once more assumed their frigid bearing, the one lookingsquare-set and solid with his thick head of hair, the other drawing backhis lean shoulders, over which fell his fringe of thin white locks. 

"My faith, " said Nana, bringing the ten big silver pieces and quitedetermined to laugh about it, "I am going to entrust you with this, gentlemen. It is for the poor. "

And the adorable little dimple in her chin became apparent. She assumedher favorite pose, her amiable baby expression, as she held the pile offive-franc pieces on her open palm and offered it to the men, as thoughshe were saying to them, "Now then, who wants some?" The count was thesharper of the two. He took fifty francs but left one piece behind and, in order to gain possession of it, had to pick it off the young woman'svery skin, a moist, supple skin, the touch of which sent a thrillthrough him. She was thoroughly merry and did not cease laughing. 

"Come, gentlemen, " she continued. "Another time I hope to give more. "

The gentlemen no longer had any pretext for staying, and they bowed andwent toward the door. But just as they were about to go out the bellrang anew. The marquis could not conceal a faint smile, while a frownmade the count look more grave than before. Nana detained them someseconds so as to give Zoe time to find yet another corner for thenewcomers. She did not relish meetings at her house. Only this time thewhole place must be packed! She was therefore much relieved when she sawthe drawing room empty and asked herself whether Zoe had really stuffedthem into the cupboards. 

"Au revoir, gentlemen, " she said, pausing on the threshold of thedrawing room. 

It was as though she lapped them in her laughing smile and clear, unclouded glance. The Count Muffat bowed slightly. Despite his greatsocial experience he felt that he had lost his equilibrium. He neededair; he was overcome with the dizzy feeling engendered in that dressingroom with a scent of flowers, with a feminine essence which choked him. And behind his back, the Marquis de Chouard, who was sure that he couldnot be seen, made so bold as to wink at Nana, his whole face suddenlyaltering its expression as he did so, and his tongue nigh lolling fromhis mouth. 

When the young woman re-entered the little room, where Zoe was awaitingher with letters and visiting cards, she cried out, laughing moreheartily than ever:

"There are a pair of beggars for you! Why, they've got away with myfifty francs!"

She wasn't vexed. It struck her as a joke that MEN should have got moneyout of her. All the same, they were swine, for she hadn't a sou left. But at sight of the cards and the letters her bad temper returned. As tothe letters, why, she said "pass" to them. They were from fellows who, after applauding her last night, were now making their declarations. Andas to the callers, they might go about their business!

Zoe had stowed them all over the place, and she called attention tothe great capabilities of the flat, every room in which opened on thecorridor. That wasn't the case at Mme Blanche's, where people had allto go through the drawing room. Oh yes, Mme Blanche had had plenty ofbothers over it!

"You will send them all away, " continued Nana in pursuance of her idea. "Begin with the nigger. "

"Oh, as to him, madame, I gave him his marching orders a while ago, "said Zoe with a grin. "He only wanted to tell Madame that he couldn'tcome to-night. "

There was vast joy at this announcement, and Nana clapped her hands. Hewasn't coming, what good luck! She would be free then! And she emittedsighs of relief, as though she had been let off the most abominable oftortures. Her first thought was for Daguenet. Poor duck, why, she hadjust written to tell him to wait till Thursday! Quick, quick, Mme Maloirshould write a second letter! But Zoe announced that Mme Maloir hadslipped away unnoticed, according to her wont. Whereupon Nana, aftertalking of sending someone to him, began to hesitate. She was verytired. A long night's sleep--oh, it would be so jolly! The thought ofsuch a treat overcame her at last. For once in a way she could allowherself that!

"I shall go to bed when I come back from the theater, " she murmuredgreedily, "and you won't wake me before noon. "

Then raising her voice:

"Now then, gee up! Shove the others downstairs!"

Zoe did not move. She would never have dreamed of giving her mistressovert advice, only now she made shift to give Madame the benefit of herexperience when Madame seemed to be running her hot head against a wall. 

"Monsieur Steiner as well?" she queried curtly. 

"Why, certainly!" replied Nana. "Before all the rest. "

The maid still waited, in order to give her mistress time forreflection. Would not Madame be proud to get such a rich gentleman awayfrom her rival Rose Mignon--a man, moreover, who was known in all thetheaters?

"Now make haste, my dear, " rejoined Nana, who perfectly understood thesituation, "and tell him he pesters me. "

But suddenly there was a reversion of feeling. Tomorrow she might wanthim. Whereupon she laughed, winked once or twice and with a naughtylittle gesture cried out:

"After all's said and done, if I want him the best way even now is tokick him out of doors. "

Zoe seemed much impressed. Struck with a sudden admiration, she gazedat her mistress and then went and chucked Steiner out of doors withoutfurther deliberation. 

Meanwhile Nana waited patiently for a second or two in order to give hertime to sweep the place out, as she phrased it. No one would ever haveexpected such a siege! She craned her head into the drawing room andfound it empty. The dining room was empty too. But as she continuedher visitation in a calmer frame of mind, feeling certain that nobodyremained behind, she opened the door of a closet and came suddenly upona very young man. He was sitting on the top of a trunk, holding a hugebouquet on his knees and looking exceedingly quiet and extremely wellbehaved. 

"Goodness gracious me!" she cried. "There's one of 'em in there evennow!" The very young man had jumped down at sight of her and wasblushing as red as a poppy. He did not know what to do with his bouquet, which he kept shifting from one hand to the other, while his looksbetrayed the extreme of emotion. His youth, his embarrassment and thefunny figure he cut in his struggles with his flowers melted Nana'sheart, and she burst into a pretty peal of laughter. Well, now, the verychildren were coming, were they? Men were arriving in long clothes. Soshe gave up all airs and graces, became familiar and maternal, tappedher leg and asked for fun:

"You want me to wipe your nose; do you, baby?"

"Yes, " replied the lad in a low, supplicating tone. 

This answer made her merrier than ever. He was seventeen years old, hesaid. His name was Georges Hugon. He was at the Varietes last night andnow he had come to see her. 

"These flowers are for me?"

"Yes. "

"Then give 'em to me, booby!"

But as she took the bouquet from him he sprang upon her hands and kissedthem with all the gluttonous eagerness peculiar to his charming timeof life. She had to beat him to make him let go. There was a dreadfullittle dribbling customer for you! But as she scolded him she flushedrosy-red and began smiling. And with that she sent him about hisbusiness, telling him that he might call again. He staggered away; hecould not find the doors. 

Nana went back into her dressing room, where Francis made his appearancealmost simultaneously in order to dress her hair for the evening. Seatedin front of her mirror and bending her head beneath the hairdresser'snimble hands, she stayed silently meditative. Presently, however, Zoeentered, remarking:

"There's one of them, madame, who refuses to go. "

"Very well, he must be left alone, " she answered quietly. 

"If that comes to that they still keep arriving. "

"Bah! Tell 'em to wait. When they begin to feel too hungry they'll beoff. " Her humor had changed, and she was now delighted to make peoplewait about for nothing. A happy thought struck her as very amusing; sheescaped from beneath Francis' hands and ran and bolted the doors. Theymight now crowd in there as much as they liked; they would probablyrefrain from making a hole through the wall. Zoe could come in and outthrough the little doorway leading to the kitchen. However, the electricbell rang more lustily than ever. Every five minutes a clear, livelylittle ting-ting recurred as regularly as if it had been produced bysome well-adjusted piece of mechanism. And Nana counted these rings towhile the time away withal. But suddenly she remembered something. 

"I say, where are my burnt almonds?"

Francis, too, was forgetting about the burnt almonds. But now he drew apaper bag from one of the pockets of his frock coat and presented it toher with the discreet gesture of a man who is offering a lady a present. Nevertheless, whenever his accounts came to be settled, he always putthe burnt almonds down on his bill. Nana put the bag between her kneesand set to work munching her sweetmeats, turning her head from time totime under the hairdresser's gently compelling touch. 

"The deuce, " she murmured after a silence, "there's a troop for you!"

Thrice, in quick succession, the bell had sounded. Its summonses becamefast and furious. There were modest tintinnabulations which seemed tostutter and tremble like a first avowal; there were bold rings whichvibrated under some rough touch and hasty rings which sounded throughthe house with shivering rapidity. It was a regular peal, as Zoe said, a peal loud enough to upset the neighborhood, seeing that a whole mobof men were jabbing at the ivory button, one after the other. That oldjoker Bordenave had really been far too lavish with her address. Why, the whole of yesterday's house was coming!

"By the by, Francis, have you five louis?" said Nana. 

He drew back, looked carefully at her headdress and then quietlyremarked:

"Five louis, that's according!"

"Ah, you know if you want securities . . . " she continued. 

And without finishing her sentence, she indicated the adjoining roomswith a sweeping gesture. Francis lent the five louis. Zoe, during eachmomentary respite, kept coming in to get Madame's things ready. Soon shecame to dress her while the hairdresser lingered with the intentionof giving some finishing touches to the headdress. But the bell keptcontinually disturbing the lady's maid, who left Madame with her stayshalf laced and only one shoe on. Despite her long experience, themaid was losing her head. After bringing every nook and corner intorequisition and putting men pretty well everywhere, she had been drivento stow them away in threes and fours, which was a course of procedureentirely opposed to her principles. So much the worse for them if theyate each other up! It would afford more room! And Nana, shelteringbehind her carefully bolted door, began laughing at them, declaring thatshe could hear them pant. They ought to be looking lovely in there withtheir tongues hanging out like a lot of bowwows sitting round on theirbehinds. Yesterday's success was not yet over, and this pack of men hadfollowed up her scent. 

"Provided they don't break anything, " she murmured. 

She began to feel some anxiety, for she fancied she felt their hotbreath coming through chinks in the door. But Zoe ushered Labordettein, and the young woman gave a little shout of relief. He was anxiousto tell her about an account he had settled for her at the justice ofpeace's court. But she did not attend and said:

"I'll take you along with me. We'll have dinner together, and afterwardyou shall escort me to the Varietes. I don't go on before half-pastnine. "

Good old Labordette, how lucky it was he had come! He was a fellow whonever asked for any favors. He was only the friend of the women, whoselittle bits of business he arranged for them. Thus on his way in he haddismissed the creditors in the anteroom. Indeed, those good folks reallydidn't want to be paid. On the contrary, if they HAD been pressingfor payment it was only for the sake of complimenting Madame and ofpersonally renewing their offers of service after her grand success ofyesterday. 

"Let's be off, let's be off, " said Nana, who was dressed by now. 

But at that moment Zoe came in again, shouting:

"I refuse to open the door any more. They're waiting in a crowd all downthe stairs. "

A crowd all down the stairs! Francis himself, despite the Englishstolidity of manner which he was wont to affect, began laughing as heput up his combs. Nana, who had already taken Labordette's arm, pushedhim into the kitchen and effected her escape. At last she was deliveredfrom the men and felt happily conscious that she might now enjoy hissociety anywhere without fear of stupid interruptions. 

"You shall see me back to my door, " she said as they went down thekitchen stairs. "I shall feel safe, in that case. Just fancy, I want tosleep a whole night quite by myself--yes, a whole night! It's sort ofinfatuation, dear boy!"

CHAPTER III

The countess Sabine, as it had become customary to call Mme Muffat deBeuville in order to distinguish her from the count's mother, who haddied the year before, was wont to receive every Tuesday in her house inthe Rue Miromesnil at the corner of the Rue de Pentievre. It was a greatsquare building, and the Muffats had lived in it for a hundred years ormore. On the side of the street its frontage seemed to slumber, so loftywas it and dark, so sad and convent-like, with its great outer shutters, which were nearly always closed. And at the back in a little dark gardensome trees had grown up and were straining toward the sunlight with suchlong slender branches that their tips were visible above the roof. 

This particular Tuesday, toward ten o'clock in the evening, there werescarcely a dozen people in the drawing room. When she was only expectingintimate friends the countess opened neither the little drawing roomnor the dining room. One felt more at home on such occasions and chattedround the fire. The drawing room was very large and very lofty; its fourwindows looked out upon the garden, from which, on this rainy eveningof the close of April, issued a sensation of damp despite the great logsburning on the hearth. The sun never shone down into the room; in thedaytime it was dimly lit up by a faint greenish light, but at night, when the lamps and the chandelier were burning, it looked merely aserious old chamber with its massive mahogany First Empire furniture, its hangings and chair coverings of yellow velvet, stamped with alarge design. Entering it, one was in an atmosphere of cold dignity, ofancient manners, of a vanished age, the air of which seemed devotional. 

Opposite the armchair, however, in which the count's mother had died--asquare armchair of formal design and inhospitable padding, which stoodby the hearthside--the Countess Sabine was seated in a deep and cozylounge, the red silk upholsteries of which were soft as eider down. Itwas the only piece of modern furniture there, a fanciful item introducedamid the prevailing severity and clashing with it. 

"So we shall have the shah of Persia, " the young woman was saying. 

They were talking of the crowned heads who were coming to Paris for theexhibition. Several ladies had formed a circle round the hearth, and Mmedu Joncquoy, whose brother, a diplomat, had just fulfilled a mission inthe East, was giving some details about the court of Nazr-ed-Din. 

"Are you out of sorts, my dear?" asked Mme Chantereau, the wife of anironmaster, seeing the countess shivering slightly and growing pale asshe did so. 

"Oh no, not at all, " replied the latter, smiling. "I felt a little cold. This drawing room takes so long to warm. "

And with that she raised her melancholy eyes and scanned the walls fromfloor to ceiling. Her daughter Estelle, a slight, insignificant-lookinggirl of sixteen, the thankless period of life, quitted the largefootstool on which she was sitting and silently came and propped up oneof the logs which had rolled from its place. But Mme de Chezelles, aconvent friend of Sabine's and her junior by five years, exclaimed:

"Dear me, I would gladly be possessed of a drawing room such as yours!At any rate, you are able to receive visitors. They only build boxesnowadays. Oh, if I were in your place!"

She ran giddily on and with lively gestures explained how she wouldalter the hangings, the seats--everything, in fact. Then she would giveballs to which all Paris should run. Behind her seat her husband, amagistrate, stood listening with serious air. It was rumored that shedeceived him quite openly, but people pardoned her offense and receivedher just the same, because, they said, "she's not answerable for heractions. "

"Oh that Leonide!" the Countess Sabine contented herself by murmuring, smiling her faint smile the while. 

With a languid movement she eked out the thought that was in her. Afterhaving lived there seventeen years she certainly would not alterher drawing room now. It would henceforth remain just such as hermother-in-law had wished to preserve it during her lifetime. Thenreturning to the subject of conversation:

"I have been assured, " she said, "that we shall also have the king ofPrussia and the emperor of Russia. "

"Yes, some very fine fetes are promised, " said Mme du Joncquoy. 

The banker Steiner, not long since introduced into this circle byLeonide de Chezelles, who was acquainted with the whole of Parisiansociety, was sitting chatting on a sofa between two of the windows. He was questioning a deputy, from whom he was endeavoring with muchadroitness to elicit news about a movement on the stock exchange ofwhich he had his suspicions, while the Count Muffat, standing in frontof them, was silently listening to their talk, looking, as he did so, even grayer than was his wont. 

Four or five young men formed another group near the door round theCount Xavier de Vandeuvres, who in a low tone was telling them ananecdote. It was doubtless a very risky one, for they were choking withlaughter. Companionless in the center of the room, a stout man, a chiefclerk at the Ministry of the Interior, sat heavily in an armchair, dozing with his eyes open. But when one of the young men appeared todoubt the truth of the anecdote Vandeuvres raised his voice. 

"You are too much of a skeptic, Foucarmont; you'll spoil all yourpleasures that way. "

And he returned to the ladies with a laugh. Last scion of a greatfamily, of feminine manners and witty tongue, he was at that timerunning through a fortune with a rage of life and appetite which nothingcould appease. His racing stable, which was one of the best known inParis, cost him a fabulous amount of money; his betting losses at theImperial Club amounted monthly to an alarming number of pounds, whiletaking one year with another, his mistresses would be always devouringnow a farm, now some acres of arable land or forest, which amounted, infact, to quite a respectable slice of his vast estates in Picardy. 

"I advise you to call other people skeptics! Why, you don't believe athing yourself, " said Leonide, making shift to find him a little spacein which to sit down at her side. 

"It's you who spoil your own pleasures. "

"Exactly, " he replied. "I wish to make others benefit by my experience. "

But the company imposed silence on him: he was scandalizing M. Venot. And, the ladies having changed their positions, a little old man ofsixty, with bad teeth and a subtle smile, became visible in the depthsof an easy chair. There he sat as comfortably as in his own house, listening to everybody's remarks and making none himself. With a slightgesture he announced himself by no means scandalized. Vandeuvres oncemore assumed his dignified bearing and added gravely:

"Monsieur Venot is fully aware that I believe what it is one's duty tobelieve. "

It was an act of faith, and even Leonide appeared satisfied. The youngmen at the end of the room no longer laughed; the company were oldfogies, and amusement was not to be found there. A cold breath of windhad passed over them, and amid the ensuing silence Steiner's nasal voicebecame audible. The deputy's discreet answers were at last driving himto desperation. For a second or two the Countess Sabine looked at thefire; then she resumed the conversation. 

"I saw the king of Prussia at Baden-Baden last year. He's still full ofvigor for his age. "

"Count Bismarck is to accompany him, " said Mme du Joncquoy. "Do youknow the count? I lunched with him at my brother's ages ago, when hewas representative of Prussia in Paris. There's a man now whose latestsuccesses I cannot in the least understand. "

"But why?" asked Mme Chantereau. 

"Good gracious, how am I to explain? He doesn't please me. Hisappearance is boorish and underbred. Besides, so far as I am concerned, I find him stupid. "

With that the whole room spoke of Count Bismarck, and opinions differedconsiderably. Vandeuvres knew him and assured the company that he wasgreat in his cups and at play. But when the discussion was at itsheight the door was opened, and Hector de la Falois made his appearance. Fauchery, who followed in his wake, approached the countess and, bowing:

"Madame, " he said, "I have not forgotten your extremely kindinvitation. "

She smiled and made a pretty little speech. The journalist, after bowingto the count, stood for some moments in the middle of the drawing room. He only recognized Steiner and accordingly looked rather out of hiselement. But Vandeuvres turned and came and shook hands with him. Andforthwith, in his delight at the meeting and with a sudden desire to beconfidential, Fauchery buttonholed him and said in a low voice:

"It's tomorrow. Are you going?"

"Egad, yes. "

"At midnight, at her house. 

"I know, I know. I'm going with Blanche. "

He wanted to escape and return to the ladies in order to urge yetanother reason in M. De Bismarck's favor. But Fauchery detained him. 

"You never will guess whom she has charged me to invite. "

And with a slight nod he indicated Count Muffat, who was just thendiscussing a knotty point in the budget with Steiner and the deputy. 

"It's impossible, " said Vandeuvres, stupefaction and merriment in histones. "My word on it! I had to swear that I would bring him to her. Indeed, that's one of my reasons for coming here. "

Both laughed silently, and Vandeuvres, hurriedly rejoining the circle ofladies, cried out:

"I declare that on the contrary Monsieur de Bismarck is exceedinglywitty. For instance, one evening he said a charmingly epigrammatic thingin my presence. "

La Faloise meanwhile had heard the few rapid sentences thus whisperinglyinterchanged, and he gazed at Fauchery in hopes of an explanation whichwas not vouchsafed him. Of whom were they talking, and what were theygoing to do at midnight tomorrow? He did not leave his cousin's sideagain. The latter had gone and seated himself. He was especiallyinterested by the Countess Sabine. Her name had often been mentionedin his presence, and he knew that, having been married at the age ofseventeen, she must now be thirty-four and that since her marriageshe had passed a cloistered existence with her husband and hermother-in-law. In society some spoke of her as a woman of religiouschastity, while others pitied her and recalled to memory her charmingbursts of laughter and the burning glances of her great eyes in the daysprior to her imprisonment in this old town house. Fauchery scrutinizedher and yet hesitated. One of his friends, a captain who had recentlydied in Mexico, had, on the very eve of his departure, made him one ofthose gross postprandial confessions, of which even the most prudentamong men are occasionally guilty. But of this he only retained a vaguerecollection; they had dined not wisely but too well that evening, andwhen he saw the countess, in her black dress and with her quiet smile, seated in that Old World drawing room, he certainly had his doubts. Alamp which had been placed behind her threw into clear relief her dark, delicate, plump side face, wherein a certain heaviness in the contoursof the mouth alone indicated a species of imperious sensuality. 

"What do they want with their Bismarck?" muttered La Faloise, whoseconstant pretense it was to be bored in good society. "One's ready tokick the bucket here. A pretty idea of yours it was to want to come!"

Fauchery questioned him abruptly. 

"Now tell me, does the countess admit someone to her embraces?"

"Oh dear, no, no! My dear fellow!" he stammered, manifestly taken abackand quite forgetting his pose. "Where d'you think we are?"

After which he was conscious of a want of up-to-dateness in thisoutburst of indignation and, throwing himself back on a great sofa, headded:

"Gad! I say no! But I don't know much about it. There's a little chapout there, Foucarmont they call him, who's to be met with everywhereand at every turn. One's seen faster men than that, though, you bet. However, it doesn't concern me, and indeed, all I know is that if thecountess indulges in high jinks she's still pretty sly about it, for thething never gets about--nobody talks. "

Then although Fauchery did not take the trouble to question him, he toldhim all he knew about the Muffats. Amid the conversation of the ladies, which still continued in front of the hearth, they both spoke in subduedtones, and, seeing them there with their white cravats and gloves, onemight have supposed them to be discussing in chosen phraseology somereally serious topic. Old Mme Muffat then, whom La Faloise had been wellacquainted with, was an insufferable old lady, always hand in glove withthe priests. She had the grand manner, besides, and an authoritative wayof comporting herself, which bent everybody to her will. As to Muffat, he was an old man's child; his father, a general, had been created countby Napoleon I, and naturally he had found himself in favor after thesecond of December. He hadn't much gaiety of manner either, buthe passed for a very honest man of straightforward intentions andunderstanding. Add to these a code of old aristocratic ideas and sucha lofty conception of his duties at court, of his dignities and of hisvirtues, that he behaved like a god on wheels. It was the Mamma Muffatwho had given him this precious education with its daily visits to theconfessional, its complete absence of escapades and of all that is meantby youth. He was a practicing Christian and had attacks of faith of suchfiery violence that they might be likened to accesses of burningfever. Finally, in order to add a last touch to the picture, La Faloisewhispered something in his cousin's ear. 

"You don't say so!" said the latter. 

"On my word of honor, they swore it was true! He was still like thatwhen he married. "

Fauchery chuckled as he looked at the count, whose face, with its fringeof whiskers and absence of mustaches, seemed to have grown squarer andharder now that he was busy quoting figures to the writhing, strugglingSteiner. 

"My word, he's got a phiz for it!" murmured Fauchery. "A pretty presenthe made his wife! Poor little thing, how he must have bored her! Sheknows nothing about anything, I'll wager!"

Just then the Countess Sabine was saying something to him. But he didnot hear her, so amusing and extraordinary did he esteem the Muffats'case. She repeated the question. 

"Monsieur Fauchery, have you not published a sketch of Monsieur deBismarck? You spoke with him once?"

He got up briskly and approached the circle of ladies, endeavoring tocollect himself and soon with perfect ease of manner finding an answer:

"Dear me, madame, I assure you I wrote that 'portrait' with the helpof biographies which had been published in Germany. I have never seenMonsieur de Bismarck. "

He remained beside the countess and, while talking with her, continuedhis meditations. She did not look her age; one would have set her downas being twenty-eight at most, for her eyes, above all, which werefilled with the dark blue shadow of her long eyelashes, retained theglowing light of youth. Bred in a divided family, so that she used tospend one month with the Marquis de Chouard, another with the marquise, she had been married very young, urged on, doubtless, by her father, whom she embarrassed after her mother's death. A terrible man was themarquis, a man about whom strange tales were beginning to be told, andthat despite his lofty piety! Fauchery asked if he should have the honorof meeting him. Certainly her father was coming, but only very late; hehad so much work on hand! The journalist thought he knew where the oldgentleman passed his evenings and looked grave. But a mole, which henoticed close to her mouth on the countess's left cheek, surprised him. Nana had precisely the same mole. It was curious. Tiny hairs curled upon it, only they were golden in Nana's case, black as jet in this. Ahwell, never mind! This woman enjoyed nobody's embraces. 

"I have always felt a wish to know Queen Augusta, " she said. "They sayshe is so good, so devout. Do you think she will accompany the king?"

"It is not thought that she will, madame, " he replied. 

She had no lovers: the thing was only too apparent. One had only tolook at her there by the side of that daughter of hers, sitting soinsignificant and constrained on her footstool. That sepulchral drawingroom of hers, which exhaled odors suggestive of being in a church, spoke as plainly as words could of the iron hand, the austere mode ofexistence, that weighed her down. There was nothing suggestive of herown personality in that ancient abode, black with the damps of years. Itwas Muffat who made himself felt there, who dominated his surroundingswith his devotional training, his penances and his fasts. But the sightof the little old gentleman with the black teeth and subtle smilewhom he suddenly discovered in his armchair behind the group of ladiesafforded him a yet more decisive argument. He knew the personage. Itwas Theophile Venot, a retired lawyer who had made a specialty of churchcases. He had left off practice with a handsome fortune and was nowleading a sufficiently mysterious existence, for he was receivedeverywhere, treated with great deference and even somewhat feared, as though he had been the representative of a mighty force, an occultpower, which was felt to be at his back. Nevertheless, his behavior wasvery humble. He was churchwarden at the Madeleine Church and hadsimply accepted the post of deputy mayor at the town house of the NinthArrondissement in order, as he said, to have something to do in hisleisure time. Deuce take it, the countess was well guarded; there wasnothing to be done in that quarter. 

"You're right, it's enough to make one kick the bucket here, " saidFauchery to his cousin when he had made good his escape from the circleof ladies. "We'll hook it!"

But Steiner, deserted at last by the Count Muffat and the deputy, came up in a fury. Drops of perspiration stood on his forehead, and hegrumbled huskily:

"Gad! Let 'em tell me nothing, if nothing they want to tell me. I shallfind people who will talk. "

Then he pushed the journalist into a corner and, altering his tone, saidin accents of victory:

"It's tomorrow, eh? I'm of the party, my bully!"

"Indeed!" muttered Fauchery with some astonishment. 

"You didn't know about it. Oh, I had lots of bother to find her at home. Besides, Mignon never would leave me alone. "

"But they're to be there, are the Mignons. "

"Yes, she told me so. In fact, she did receive my visit, and she invitedme. Midnight punctually, after the play. "

The banker was beaming. He winked and added with a peculiar emphasis onthe words:

"You've worked it, eh?"

"Eh, what?" said Fauchery, pretending not to understand him. "She wantedto thank me for my article, so she came and called on me. "

"Yes, yes. You fellows are fortunate. You get rewarded. By the by, whopays the piper tomorrow?"

The journalist made a slight outward movement with his arms, as thoughhe would intimate that no one had ever been able to find out. ButVandeuvres called to Steiner, who knew M. De Bismarck. Mme du Joncquoyhad almost convinced herself of the truth of her suppositions; sheconcluded with these words:

"He gave me an unpleasant impression. I think his face is evil. But I amquite willing to believe that he has a deal of wit. It would account forhis successes. "

"Without doubt, " said the banker with a faint smile. He was a Jew fromFrankfort. 

Meanwhile La Faloise at last made bold to question his cousin. Hefollowed him up and got inside his guard:

"There's supper at a woman's tomorrow evening? With which of them, eh?With which of them?"

Fauchery motioned to him that they were overheard and must respect theconventions here. The door had just been opened anew, and an old ladyhad come in, followed by a young man in whom the journalist recognizedthe truant schoolboy, perpetrator of the famous and as yet unforgotten"tres chic" of the Blonde Venus first night. This lady's arrival causeda stir among the company. The Countess Sabine had risen briskly from herseat in order to go and greet her, and she had taken both her handsin hers and addressed her as her "dear Madame Hugon. " Seeing that hiscousin viewed this little episode with some curiosity, La Faloisesought to arouse his interest and in a few brief phrases explainedthe position. Mme Hugon, widow of a notary, lived in retirement at LesFondettes, an old estate of her family's in the neighborhood of Orleans, but she also kept up a small establishment in Paris in a house belongingto her in the Rue de Richelieu and was now passing some weeks there inorder to settle her youngest son, who was reading the law and in his"first year. " In old times she had been a dear friend of the Marquise deChouard and had assisted at the birth of the countess, who, prior to hermarriage, used to stay at her house for months at a time and even nowwas quite familiarly treated by her. 

"I have brought Georges to see you, " said Mme Hugon to Sabine. "He'sgrown, I trust. "

The young man with his clear eyes and the fair curls which suggested agirl dressed up as a boy bowed easily to the countess and reminded herof a bout of battledore and shuttlecock they had had together two yearsago at Les Fondettes. 

"Philippe is not in Paris?" asked Count Muffat. 

"Dear me, no!" replied the old lady. "He is always in garrison atBourges. " She had seated herself and began talking with considerablepride of her eldest son, a great big fellow who, after enlisting ina fit of waywardness, had of late very rapidly attained the rank oflieutenant. All the ladies behaved to her with respectful sympathy, and conversation was resumed in a tone at once more amiable and morerefined. Fauchery, at sight of that respectable Mme Hugon, that motherlyface lit up with such a kindly smile beneath its broad tresses of whitehair, thought how foolish he had been to suspect the Countess Sabineeven for an instant. 

Nevertheless, the big chair with the red silk upholsteries in which thecountess sat had attracted his attention. Its style struck him as crude, not to say fantastically suggestive, in that dim old drawing room. Certainly it was not the count who had inveigled thither that nestof voluptuous idleness. One might have described it as an experiment, marking the birth of an appetite and of an enjoyment. Then he forgotwhere he was, fell into brown study and in thought even harked back tothat vague confidential announcement imparted to him one evening in thedining room of a restaurant. Impelled by a sort of sensuous curiosity, he had always wanted an introduction into the Muffats' circle, and nowthat his friend was in Mexico through all eternity, who could tell whatmight happen? "We shall see, " he thought. It was a folly, doubtless, butthe idea kept tormenting him; he felt himself drawn on and his animalnature aroused. The big chair had a rumpled look--its nether cushionshad been tumbled, a fact which now amused him. 

"Well, shall we be off?" asked La Faloise, mentally vowing that onceoutside he would find out the name of the woman with whom people weregoing to sup. 

"All in good time, " replied Fauchery. 

But he was no longer in any hurry and excused himself on the score ofthe invitation he had been commissioned to give and had as yet not founda convenient opportunity to mention. The ladies were chatting about anassumption of the veil, a very touching ceremony by which the whole ofParisian society had for the last three days been greatly moved. It wasthe eldest daughter of the Baronne de Fougeray, who, under stress ofan irresistible vocation, had just entered the Carmelite Convent. MmeChantereau, a distant cousin of the Fougerays, told how the baroness hadbeen obliged to take to her bed the day after the ceremony, so overdonewas she with weeping. 

"I had a very good place, " declared Leonide. "I found it interesting. "

Nevertheless, Mme Hugon pitied the poor mother. How sad to lose adaughter in such a way!

"I am accused of being overreligious, " she said in her quiet, frankmanner, "but that does not prevent me thinking the children very cruelwho obstinately commit such suicide. "

"Yes, it's a terrible thing, " murmured the countess, shivering a little, as became a chilly person, and huddling herself anew in the depths ofher big chair in front of the fire. 

Then the ladies fell into a discussion. But their voices were discreetlyattuned, while light trills of laughter now and again interrupted thegravity of their talk. The two lamps on the chimney piece, which hadshades of rose-colored lace, cast a feeble light over them while onscattered pieces of furniture there burned but three other lamps, sothat the great drawing room remained in soft shadow. 

Steiner was getting bored. He was describing to Fauchery an escapade ofthat little Mme de Chezelles, whom he simply referred to as Leonide. "A blackguard woman, " he said, lowering his voice behind the ladies'armchairs. Fauchery looked at her as she sat quaintly perched, in hervoluminous ball dress of pale blue satin, on the corner of her armchair. She looked as slight and impudent as a boy, and he ended by feelingastonished at seeing her there. People comported themselves betterat Caroline Hequet's, whose mother had arranged her house on seriousprinciples. Here was a perfect subject for an article. What a strangeworld was this world of Paris! The most rigid circles found themselvesinvaded. Evidently that silent Theophile Venot, who contented himselfby smiling and showing his ugly teeth, must have been a legacy from thelate countess. So, too, must have been such ladies of mature age as MmeChantereau and Mme du Joncquoy, besides four or five old gentlemen whosat motionless in corners. The Count Muffat attracted to the housea series of functionaries, distinguished by the immaculate personalappearance which was at that time required of the men at the Tuileries. Among others there was the chief clerk, who still sat solitary in themiddle of the room with his closely shorn cheeks, his vacant glance andhis coat so tight of fit that he could scarce venture to move. Almost all the young men and certain individuals with distinguished, aristocratic manners were the Marquis de Chouard's contribution to thecircle, he having kept touch with the Legitimist party after making hispeace with the empire on his entrance into the Council of State. Thereremained Leonide de Chezelles and Steiner, an ugly little knot againstwhich Mme Hugon's elderly and amiable serenity stood out in strangecontrast. And Fauchery, having sketched out his article, named this lastgroup "Countess Sabine's little clique. "

"On another occasion, " continued Steiner in still lower tones, "Leonidegot her tenor down to Montauban. She was living in the Chateau deBeaurecueil, two leagues farther off, and she used to come in daily ina carriage and pair in order to visit him at the Lion d'Or, where he hadput up. The carriage used to wait at the door, and Leonide would stayfor hours in the house, while a crowd gathered round and looked at thehorses. "

There was a pause in the talk, and some solemn moments passed silentlyby in the lofty room. Two young men were whispering, but they ceased intheir turn, and the hushed step of Count Muffat was alone audible as hecrossed the floor. The lamps seemed to have paled; the fire was goingout; a stern shadow fell athwart the old friends of the house where theysat in the chairs they had occupied there for forty years back. It wasas though in a momentary pause of conversation the invited guestshad become suddenly aware that the count's mother, in all her glacialstateliness, had returned among them. 

But the Countess Sabine had once more resumed:

"Well, at last the news of it got about. The young man was likely todie, and that would explain the poor child's adoption of the religiouslife. Besides, they say that Monsieur de Fougeray would never have givenhis consent to the marriage. "

"They say heaps of other things too, " cried Leonide giddily. 

She fell a-laughing; she refused to talk. Sabine was won over by thisgaiety and put her handkerchief up to her lips. And in the vastand solemn room their laughter sounded a note which struck Faucherystrangely, the note of delicate glass breaking. Assuredly here was thefirst beginning of the "little rift. " Everyone began talking again. Mmedu Joncquoy demurred; Mme Chantereau knew for certain that a marriagehad been projected but that matters had gone no further; the men evenventured to give their opinions. For some minutes the conversation wasa babel of opinions, in which the divers elements of the circle, whetherBonapartist or Legitimist or merely worldly and skeptical, appeared tojostle one another simultaneously. Estelle had rung to order wood tobe put on the fire; the footman turned up the lamps; the room seemedto wake from sleep. Fauchery began smiling, as though once more at hisease. 

"Egad, they become the brides of God when they couldn't be theircousin's, " said Vandeuvres between his teeth. 

The subject bored him, and he had rejoined Fauchery. 

"My dear fellow, have you ever seen a woman who was really loved becomea nun?"

He did not wait for an answer, for he had had enough of the topic, andin a hushed voice:

"Tell me, " he said, "how many of us will there be tomorrow? There'll bethe Mignons, Steiner, yourself, Blanche and I; who else?"

"Caroline, I believe, and Simonne and Gaga without doubt. One neverknows exactly, does one? On such occasions one expects the party willnumber twenty, and you're really thirty. "

Vandeuvres, who was looking at the ladies, passed abruptly to anothersubject:

"She must have been very nice-looking, that Du Joncquoy woman, somefifteen years ago. Poor Estelle has grown lankier than ever. What a nicelath to put into a bed!"

But interrupting himself, he returned to the subject of tomorrow'ssupper. 

"What's so tiresome of those shows is that it's always the same set ofwomen. One wants a novelty. Do try and invent a new girl. By Jove, happythought! I'll go and beseech that stout man to bring the woman he wastrotting about the other evening at the Varietes. "

He referred to the chief clerk, sound asleep in the middle of thedrawing room. Fauchery, afar off, amused himself by following thisdelicate negotiation. Vandeuvres had sat himself down by the stout man, who still looked very sedate. For some moments they both appeared to bediscussing with much propriety the question before the house, which was, "How can one discover the exact state of feeling that urges a younggirl to enter into the religious life?" Then the count returned with theremark:

"It's impossible. He swears she's straight. She'd refuse, and yet Iwould have wagered that I once saw her at Laure's. "

"Eh, what? You go to Laure's?" murmured Fauchery with a chuckle. "Youventure your reputation in places like that? I was under the impressionthat it was only we poor devils of outsiders who--"

"Ah, dear boy, one ought to see every side of life. "

Then they sneered and with sparkling eyes they compared notes aboutthe table d'hote in the Rue des Martyrs, where big Laure Piedefer ran adinner at three francs a head for little women in difficulties. A nicehole, where all the little women used to kiss Laure on the lips! Andas the Countess Sabine, who had overheard a stray word or two, turnedtoward them, they started back, rubbing shoulders in excited merriment. They had not noticed that Georges Hugon was close by and that he waslistening to them, blushing so hotly the while that a rosy flush hadspread from his ears to his girlish throat. The infant was full of shameand of ecstasy. From the moment his mother had turned him loose in theroom he had been hovering in the wake of Mme de Chezelles, the onlywoman present who struck him as being the thing. But after all is saidand done, Nana licked her to fits!

"Yesterday evening, " Mme Hugon was saying, "Georges took me to the play. Yes, we went to the Varietes, where I certainly had not set foot for thelast ten years. That child adores music. As to me, I wasn't in the leastamused, but he was so happy! They put extraordinary pieces on the stagenowadays. Besides, music delights me very little, I confess. "

"What! You don't love music, madame?" cried Mme du Joncquoy, lifting hereyes to heaven. "Is it possible there should be people who don't lovemusic?"

The exclamation of surprise was general. No one had dropped a singleword concerning the performance at the Varietes, at which the good MmeHugon had not understood any of the allusions. The ladies knew the piecebut said nothing about it, and with that they plunged into the realmof sentiment and began discussing the masters in a tone of refined andecstatical admiration. Mme du Joncquoy was not fond of any of themsave Weber, while Mme Chantereau stood up for the Italians. The ladies'voices had turned soft and languishing, and in front of the hearthone might have fancied one's self listening in meditative, religiousretirement to the faint, discreet music of a little chapel. 

"Now let's see, " murmured Vandeuvres, bringing Fauchery back into themiddle of the drawing room, "notwithstanding it all, we must invent awoman for tomorrow. Shall we ask Steiner about it?"

"Oh, when Steiner's got hold of a woman, " said the journalist, "it'sbecause Paris has done with her. "

Vandeuvres, however, was searching about on every side. 

"Wait a bit, " he continued, "the other day I met Foucarmont with acharming blonde. I'll go and tell him to bring her. "

And he called to Foucarmont. They exchanged a few words rapidly. Theremust have been some sort of complication, for both of them, movingcarefully forward and stepping over the dresses of the ladies, went offin quest of another young man with whom they continued the discussionin the embrasure of a window. Fauchery was left to himself and had justdecided to proceed to the hearth, where Mme du Joncquoy was announcingthat she never heard Weber played without at the same time seeing lakes, forests and sunrises over landscapes steeped in dew, when a hand touchedhis shoulder and a voice behind him remarked:

"It's not civil of you. "

"What d'you mean?" he asked, turning round and recognizing La Faloise. 

"Why, about that supper tomorrow. You might easily have got me invited. "

Fauchery was at length about to state his reasons when Vandeuvres cameback to tell him:

"It appears it isn't a girl of Foucarmont's. It's that man's flame outthere. She won't be able to come. What a piece of bad luck! But all thesame I've pressed Foucarmont into the service, and he's going to try toget Louise from the Palais-Royal. "

"Is it not true, Monsieur de Vandeuvres, " asked Mme Chantereau, raisingher voice, "that Wagner's music was hissed last Sunday?"

"Oh, frightfully, madame, " he made answer, coming forward with his usualexquisite politeness. 

Then, as they did not detain him, he moved off and continued whisperingin the journalist's ear:

"I'm going to press some more of them. These young fellows must knowsome little ladies. "

With that he was observed to accost men and to engage them inconversation in his usual amiable and smiling way in every corner ofthe drawing room. He mixed with the various groups, said somethingconfidently to everyone and walked away again with a sly wink and asecret signal or two. It looked as though he were giving out a watchwordin that easy way of his. The news went round; the place of meeting wasannounced, while the ladies' sentimental dissertations on music servedto conceal the small, feverish rumor of these recruiting operations. 

"No, do not speak of your Germans, " Mme Chantereau was saying. "Song isgaiety; song is light. Have you heard Patti in the Barber of Seville?"

"She was delicious!" murmured Leonide, who strummed none but operaticairs on her piano. 

Meanwhile the Countess Sabine had rung. When on Tuesdays the number ofvisitors was small, tea was handed round the drawing room itself. Whiledirecting a footman to clear a round table the countess followed theCount de Vandeuvres with her eyes. She still smiled that vague smilewhich slightly disclosed her white teeth, and as the count passed shequestioned him. 

"What ARE you plotting, Monsieur de Vandeuvres?"

"What am I plotting, madame?" he answered quietly. "Nothing at all. "

"Really! I saw you so busy. Pray, wait, you shall make yourself useful!"

She placed an album in his hands and asked him to put it on the piano. But he found means to inform Fauchery in a low whisper that they wouldhave Tatan Nene, the most finely developed girl that winter, andMaria Blond, the same who had just made her first appearance at theFolies-Dramatiques. Meanwhile La Faloise stopped him at every step inhopes of receiving an invitation. He ended by offering himself, andVandeuvres engaged him in the plot at once; only he made him promise tobring Clarisse with him, and when La Faloise pretended to scruple aboutcertain points he quieted him by the remark:

"Since I invite you that's enough!"

Nevertheless, La Faloise would have much liked to know the name of thehostess. But the countess had recalled Vandeuvres and was questioninghim as to the manner in which the English made tea. He often betookhimself to England, where his horses ran. Then as though he had beeninwardly following up quite a laborious train of thought during hisremarks, he broke in with the question:

"And the marquis, by the by? Are we not to see him?"

"Oh, certainly you will! My father made me a formal promise that hewould come, " replied the countess. "But I'm beginning to be anxious. Hisduties will have kept him. "

Vandeuvres smiled a discreet smile. He, too, seemed to have his doubtsas to the exact nature of the Marquis de Chouard's duties. Indeed, hehad been thinking of a pretty woman whom the marquis occasionally tookinto the country with him. Perhaps they could get her too. 

In the meantime Fauchery decided that the moment had come in which torisk giving Count Muff his invitation. The evening, in fact, was drawingto a close. 

"Are you serious?" asked Vandeuvres, who thought a joke was intended. 

"Extremely serious. If I don't execute my commission she'll tear my eyesout. It's a case of landing her fish, you know. "

"Well then, I'll help you, dear boy. "

Eleven o'clock struck. Assisted by her daughter, the countess waspouring out the tea, and as hardly any guests save intimate friends hadcome, the cups and the platefuls of little cakes were being circulatedwithout ceremony. Even the ladies did not leave their armchairs in frontof the fire and sat sipping their tea and nibbling cakes which theyheld between their finger tips. From music the talk had declined topurveyors. Boissier was the only person for sweetmeats and Catherine forices. Mme Chantereau, however, was all for Latinville. Speech grew moreand more indolent, and a sense of lassitude was lulling the room tosleep. Steiner had once more set himself secretly to undermine thedeputy, whom he held in a state of blockade in the corner of a settee. M. Venot, whose teeth must have been ruined by sweet things, was eatinglittle dry cakes, one after the other, with a small nibbling soundsuggestive of a mouse, while the chief clerk, his nose in a teacup, seemed never to be going to finish its contents. As to the countess, shewent in a leisurely way from one guest to another, never pressing them, indeed, only pausing a second or two before the gentlemen whom sheviewed with an air of dumb interrogation before she smiled and passedon. The great fire had flushed all her face, and she looked as if shewere the sister of her daughter, who appeared so withered and ungainlyat her side. When she drew near Fauchery, who was chatting with herhusband and Vandeuvres, she noticed that they grew suddenly silent;accordingly she did not stop but handed the cup of tea she was offeringto Georges Hugon beyond them. 

"It's a lady who desires your company at supper, " the journalist gailycontinued, addressing Count Muffat. 

The last-named, whose face had worn its gray look all the evening, seemed very much surprised. What lady was it?

"Oh, Nana!" said Vandeuvres, by way of forcing the invitation. 

The count became more grave than before. His eyelids trembled justperceptibly, while a look of discomfort, such as headache produces, hovered for a moment athwart his forehead. 

"But I'm not acquainted with that lady, " he murmured. 

"Come, come, you went to her house, " remarked Vandeuvres. 

"What d'you say? I went to her house? Oh yes, the other day, in behalfof the Benevolent Organization. I had forgotten about it. But, nomatter, I am not acquainted with her, and I cannot accept. "

He had adopted an icy expression in order to make them understandthat this jest did not appear to him to be in good taste. A man of hisposition did not sit down at tables of such women as that. Vandeuvresprotested: it was to be a supper party of dramatic and artistic people, and talent excused everything. But without listening further to thearguments urged by Fauchery, who spoke of a dinner where the Prince ofScots, the son of a queen, had sat down beside an ex-music-hall singer, the count only emphasized his refusal. In so doing, he allowed himself, despite his great politeness, to be guilty of an irritated gesture. 

Georges and La Faloise, standing in front of each other drinking theirtea, had overheard the two or three phrases exchanged in their immediateneighborhood. 

"Jove, it's at Nana's then, " murmured La Faloise. "I might have expectedas much!"

Georges said nothing, but he was all aflame. His fair hair was indisorder; his blue eyes shone like tapers, so fiercely had the vice, which for some days past had surrounded him, inflamed and stirred hisblood. At last he was going to plunge into all that he had dreamed of!

"I don't know the address, " La Faloise resumed. 

"She lives on a third floor in the Boulevard Haussmann, between the Ruede l'Arcade and the Rue Pesquier, " said Georges all in a breath. 

And when the other looked at him in much astonishment, he added, turningvery red and fit to sink into the ground with embarrassment and conceit:

"I'm of the party. She invited me this morning. "

But there was a great stir in the drawing room, and Vandeuvres andFauchery could not continue pressing the count. The Marquis de Chouardhad just come in, and everyone was anxious to greet him. He had movedpainfully forward, his legs failing under him, and he now stood in themiddle of the room with pallid face and eyes blinking, as though he hadjust come out of some dark alley and were blinded by the brightness ofthe lamps. 

"I scarcely hoped to see you tonight, Father, " said the countess. "Ishould have been anxious till the morning. "

He looked at her without answering, as a man might who fails tounderstand. His nose, which loomed immense on his shorn face, lookedlike a swollen pimple, while his lower lip hung down. Seeing him such awreck, Mme Hugon, full of kind compassion, said pitying things to him. 

"You work too hard. You ought to rest yourself. At our age we ought toleave work to the young people. "

"Work! Ah yes, to be sure, work!" he stammered at last. "Always plentyof work. "

He began to pull himself together, straightening up his bent figure andpassing his hand, as was his wont, over his scant gray hair, of which afew locks strayed behind his ears. 

"At what are you working as late as this?" asked Mme du Joncquoy. "Ithought you were at the financial minister's reception?"

But the countess intervened with:

"My father had to study the question of a projected law. "

"Yes, a projected law, " he said; "exactly so, a projected law. I shutmyself up for that reason. It refers to work in factories, and I wasanxious for a proper observance of the Lord's day of rest. It is reallyshameful that the government is unwilling to act with vigor in thematter. Churches are growing empty; we are running headlong to ruin. "

Vandeuvres had exchanged glances with Fauchery. They both happened tobe behind the marquis, and they were scanning him suspiciously. WhenVandeuvres found an opportunity to take him aside and to speak to himabout the good-looking creature he was in the habit of taking down intothe country, the old man affected extreme surprise. Perhaps someonehad seen him with the Baroness Decker, at whose house at Viroflay hesometimes spent a day or so. Vandeuvres's sole vengeance was an abruptquestion:

"Tell me, where have you been straying to? Your elbow is covered withcobwebs and plaster. "

"My elbow, " he muttered, slightly disturbed. "Yes indeed, it's true. A speck or two, I must have come in for them on my way down from myoffice. "

Several people were taking their departure. It was close on midnight. Two footmen were noiselessly removing the empty cups and the plates withcakes. In front of the hearth the ladies had re-formed and, at thesame time, narrowed their circle and were chatting more carelessly thanbefore in the languid atmosphere peculiar to the close of a party. Thevery room was going to sleep, and slowly creeping shadows were cast byits walls. It was then Fauchery spoke of departure. Yet he once moreforgot his intention at sight of the Countess Sabine. She was restingfrom her cares as hostess, and as she sat in her wonted seat, silent, her eyes fixed on a log which was turning into embers, her face appearedso white and so impassable that doubt again possessed him. In the glowof the fire the small black hairs on the mole at the corner of her lipbecame white. It was Nana's very mole, down to the color of the hair. He could not refrain from whispering something about it in Vandeuvres'sear. Gad, it was true; the other had never noticed it before. And bothmen continued this comparison of Nana and the countess. They discovereda vague resemblance about the chin and the mouth, but the eyes were notat all alike. Then, too, Nana had a good-natured expression, while withthe countess it was hard to decide--she might have been a cat, sleepingwith claws withdrawn and paws stirred by a scarce-perceptible nervousquiver. 

"All the same, one could have her, " declared Fauchery. 

Vandeuvres stripped her at a glance. 

"Yes, one could, all the same, " he said. "But I think nothing of thethighs, you know. Will you bet she has no thighs?"

He stopped, for Fauchery touched him briskly on the arm and showed himEstelle, sitting close to them on her footstool. They had raisedtheir voices without noticing her, and she must have overheard them. Nevertheless, she continued sitting there stiff and motionless, not ahair having lifted on her thin neck, which was that of a girl who hasshot up all too quickly. Thereupon they retired three or four paces, andVandeuvres vowed that the countess was a very honest woman. Just thenvoices were raised in front of the hearth. Mme du Joncquoy was saying:

"I was willing to grant you that Monsieur de Bismarck was perhaps awitty man. Only, if you go as far as to talk of genius--"

The ladies had come round again to their earliest topic of conversation. 

"What the deuce! Still Monsieur de Bismarck!" muttered Fauchery. "Thistime I make my escape for good and all. "

"Wait a bit, " said Vandeuvres, "we must have a definite no from thecount. "

The Count Muffat was talking to his father-in-law and a certainserious-looking gentleman. Vandeuvres drew him away and renewed theinvitation, backing it up with the information that he was to be atthe supper himself. A man might go anywhere; no one could think ofsuspecting evil where at most there could only be curiosity. The countlistened to these arguments with downcast eyes and expressionlessface. Vandeuvres felt him to be hesitating when the Marquis de Chouardapproached with a look of interrogation. And when the latter wasinformed of the question in hand and Fauchery had invited him in histurn, he looked at his son-in-law furtively. There ensued an embarrassedsilence, but both men encouraged one another and would doubtless haveended by accepting had not Count Muffat perceived M. Venot's gazefixed upon him. The little old man was no longer smiling; his face wascadaverous, his eyes bright and keen as steel. 

"No, " replied the count directly, in so decisive a tone that furtherinsistence became impossible. 

Then the marquis refused with even greater severity of expression. Hetalked morality. The aristocratic classes ought to set a good example. Fauchery smiled and shook hands with Vandeuvres. He did not wait forhim and took his departure immediately, for he was due at his newspaperoffice. 

"At Nana's at midnight, eh?"

La Faloise retired too. Steiner had made his bow to the countess. Othermen followed them, and the same phrase went round--"At midnight, atNana's"--as they went to get their overcoats in the anteroom. Georges, who could not leave without his mother, had stationed himself at thedoor, where he gave the exact address. "Third floor, door on your left. "Yet before going out Fauchery gave a final glance. Vandeuvres had againresumed his position among the ladies and was laughing with Leonide deChezelles. Count Muffat and the Marquis de Chouard were joining in theconversation, while the good Mme Hugon was falling asleep open-eyed. Lost among the petticoats, M. Venot was his own small self again andsmiled as of old. Twelve struck slowly in the great solemn room. 

"What--what do you mean?" Mme du Joncquoy resumed. "You imagine thatMonsieur de Bismarck will make war on us and beat us! Oh, that'sunbearable!"

Indeed, they were laughing round Mme Chantereau, who had just repeatedan assertion she had heard made in Alsace, where her husband owned afoundry. 

"We have the emperor, fortunately, " said Count Muffat in his grave, official way. 

It was the last phrase Fauchery was able to catch. He closed the doorafter casting one more glance in the direction of the CountessSabine. She was talking sedately with the chief clerk and seemed to beinterested in that stout individual's conversation. Assuredly he musthave been deceiving himself. There was no "little rift" there at all. Itwas a pity. 

"You're not coming down then?" La Faloise shouted up to him from theentrance hall. 

And out on the pavement, as they separated, they once more repeated:

"Tomorrow, at Nana's. "

CHAPTER IV

Since morning Zoe had delivered up the flat to a managing man who hadcome from Brebant's with a staff of helpers and waiters. Brebant was tosupply everything, from the supper, the plates and dishes, the glass, the linen, the flowers, down to the seats and footstools. Nana could nothave mustered a dozen napkins out of all her cupboards, and not havinghad time to get a proper outfit after her new start in life and scorningto go to the restaurant, she had decided to make the restaurant come toher. It struck her as being more the thing. She wanted to celebrateher great success as an actress with a supper which should set peopletalking. As her dining room was too small, the manager had arrangedthe table in the drawing room, a table with twenty-five covers, placedsomewhat close together. 

"Is everything ready?" asked Nana when she returned at midnight. 

"Oh! I don't know, " replied Zoe roughly, looking beside herself withworry. "The Lord be thanked, I don't bother about anything. They'remaking a fearful mess in the kitchen and all over the flat! I've had tofight my battles too. The other two came again. My eye! I did just chuck'em out!"

She referred, of course, to her employer's old admirers, the tradesmanand the Walachian, to whom Nana, sure of her future and longing to shedher skin, as she phrased it, had decided to give the go-by. 

"There are a couple of leeches for you!" she muttered. 

"If they come back threaten to go to the police. "

Then she called Daguenet and Georges, who had remained behind in theanteroom, where they were hanging up their overcoats. They had both metat the stage door in the Passage des Panoramas, and she had brought themhome with her in a cab. As there was nobody there yet, she shoutedto them to come into the dressing room while Zoe was touching up hertoilet. Hurriedly and without changing her dress she had her hair doneup and stuck white roses in her chignon and at her bosom. The littleroom was littered with the drawing-room furniture, which the workmen hadbeen compelled to roll in there, and it was full of a motley assemblageof round tables, sofas and armchairs, with their legs in air for themost part. Nana was quite ready when her dress caught on a castor andtore upward. At this she swore furiously; such things only happenedto her! Ragingly she took off her dress, a very simple affair of whitefoulard, of so thin and supple a texture that it clung about her likea long shift. But she put it on again directly, for she could not findanother to her taste, and with tears in her eyes declared that she wasdressed like a ragpicker. Daguenet and Georges had to patch up the rentwith pins, while Zoe once more arranged her hair. All three hurriedround her, especially the boy, who knelt on the floor with his handsamong her skirts. And at last she calmed down again when Daguenetassured her it could not be later than a quarter past twelve, seeingthat by dint of scamping her words and skipping her lines she hadeffectually shortened the third act of the Blonde Venus. 

"The play's still far too good for that crowd of idiots, " she said. "Didyou see? There were thousands there tonight. Zoe, my girl, you willwait in here. Don't go to bed, I shall want you. By gum, it is time theycame. Here's company!"

She ran off while Georges stayed where he was with the skirts of hiscoat brushing the floor. He blushed, seeing Daguenet looking at him. Notwithstanding which, they had conceived a tender regard the one forthe other. They rearranged the bows of their cravats in front of the bigdressing glass and gave each other a mutual dose of the clothesbrush, for they were all white from their close contact with Nana. 

"One would think it was sugar, " murmured Georges, giggling like a greedylittle child. 

A footman hired for the evening was ushering the guests into the smalldrawing room, a narrow slip of a place in which only four armchairs hadbeen left in order the better to pack in the company. From the largedrawing room beyond came a sound as of the moving of plates and silver, while a clear and brilliant ray of light shone from under the door. Ather entrance Nana found Clarisse Besnus, whom La Faloise had brought, already installed in one of the armchairs. 

"Dear me, you're the first of 'em!" said Nana, who, now that she wassuccessful, treated her familiarly. 

"Oh, it's his doing, " replied Clarisse. "He's always afraid of notgetting anywhere in time. If I'd taken him at his word I shouldn't havewaited to take off my paint and my wig. "

The young man, who now saw Nana for the first time, bowed, paid hera compliment and spoke of his cousin, hiding his agitation behind anexaggeration of politeness. But Nana, neither listening to him norrecognizing his face, shook hands with him and then went briskly towardRose Mignon, with whom she at once assumed a most distinguished manner. 

"Ah, how nice of you, my dear madame! I was so anxious to have youhere!"

"It's I who am charmed, I assure you, " said Rose with equal amiability. 

"Pray, sit down. Do you require anything?"

"Thank you, no! Ah yes, I've left my fan in my pelisse, Steiner; justlook in the right-hand pocket. "

Steiner and Mignon had come in behind Rose. The banker turned backand reappeared with the fan while Mignon embraced Nana fraternally andforced Rose to do so also. Did they not all belong to the same family inthe theatrical world? Then he winked as though to encourage Steiner, butthe latter was disconcerted by Rose's clear gaze and contented himselfby kissing Nana's hand. 

Just then the Count de Vandeuvres made his appearance with Blanche deSivry. There was an interchange of profound bows, and Nana with theutmost ceremony conducted Blanche to an armchair. Meanwhile Vandeuvrestold them laughingly that Fauchery was engaged in a dispute at the footof the stairs because the porter had refused to allow Lucy Stewart'scarriage to come in at the gate. They could hear Lucy telling the porterhe was a dirty blackguard in the anteroom. But when the footman hadopened the door she came forward with her laughing grace of manner, announced her name herself, took both Nana's hands in hers and told herthat she had liked her from the very first and considered her talentsplendid. Nana, puffed up by her novel role of hostess, thanked herand was veritably confused. Nevertheless, from the moment of Fauchery'sarrival she appeared preoccupied, and directly she could get near himshe asked him in a low voice:

"Will he come?"

"No, he did not want to, " was the journalist's abrupt reply, for he wastaken by surprise, though he had got ready some sort of tale to explainCount Muffat's refusal. 

Seeing the young woman's sudden pallor, he became conscious of his follyand tried to retract his words. 

"He was unable to; he is taking the countess to the ball at the Ministryof the Interior tonight. "

"All right, " murmured Nana, who suspected him of ill will, "you'll payme out for that, my pippin. "

She turned on her heel, and so did he; they were angry. Just then Mignonwas pushing Steiner up against Nana, and when Fauchery had left herhe said to her in a low voice and with the good-natured cynicism of acomrade in arms who wishes his friends to be happy:

"He's dying of it, you know, only he's afraid of my wife. Won't youprotect him?"

Nana did not appear to understand. She smiled and looked at Rose, thehusband and the banker and finally said to the latter:

"Monsieur Steiner, you will sit next to me. "

With that there came from the anteroom a sound of laughter andwhispering and a burst of merry, chattering voices, which sounded as ifa runaway convent were on the premises. And Labordette appeared, towingfive women in his rear, his boarding school, as Lucy Stewart cruellyphrased it. There was Gaga, majestic in a blue velvet dress which wastoo tight for her, and Caroline Hequet, clad as usual in ribbed blacksilk, trimmed with Chantilly lace. Lea de Horn came next, terriblydressed up, as her wont was, and after her the big Tatan Nene, agood-humored fair girl with the bosom of a wet nurse, at which peoplelaughed, and finally little Maria Blond, a young damsel of fifteen, asthin and vicious as a street child, yet on the high road to success, owing to her recent first appearance at the Folies. Labordette hadbrought the whole collection in a single fly, and they were stilllaughing at the way they had been squeezed with Maria Blond on herknees. But on entering the room they pursed up their lips, and all grewvery conventional as they shook hands and exchanged salutations. Gaga even affected the infantile and lisped through excess of genteeldeportment. Tatan Nene alone transgressed. They had been telling her asthey came along that six absolutely naked Negroes would serve up Nana'ssupper, and she now grew anxious about them and asked to see them. Labordette called her a goose and besought her to be silent. 

"And Bordenave?" asked Fauchery. 

"Oh, you may imagine how miserable I am, " cried Nana; "he won't be ableto join us. "

"Yes, " said Rose Mignon, "his foot caught in a trap door, and he's gota fearful sprain. If only you could hear him swearing, with his leg tiedup and laid out on a chair!"

Thereupon everybody mourned over Bordenave's absence. No one ever gavea good supper without Bordenave. Ah well, they would try and do withouthim, and they were already talking about other matters when a burlyvoice was heard:

"What, eh, what? Is that the way they're going to write my obituarynotice?"

There was a shout, and all heads were turned round, for it was indeedBordenave. Huge and fiery-faced, he was standing with his stiff legin the doorway, leaning for support on Simonne Cabiroche's shoulder. Simonne was for the time being his mistress. This little creature hadhad a certain amount of education and could play the piano and talkEnglish. She was a blonde on a tiny, pretty scale and so delicatelyformed that she seemed to bend under Bordenave's rude weight. Yet shewas smilingly submissive withal. He postured there for some moments, forhe felt that together they formed a tableau. 

"One can't help liking ye, eh?" he continued. "Zounds, I was afraid Ishould get bored, and I said to myself, 'Here goes. '"

But he interrupted himself with an oath. 

"Oh, damn!"

Simonne had taken a step too quickly forward, and his foot had just felthis full weight. He gave her a rough push, but she, still smiling awayand ducking her pretty head as some animal might that is afraid of abeating, held him up with all the strength a little plump blonde cancommand. Amid all these exclamations there was a rush to his assistance. Nana and Rose Mignon rolled up an armchair, into which Bordenave lethimself sink, while the other women slid a second one under his leg. Andwith that all the actresses present kissed him as a matter of course. Hekept grumbling and gasping. 

"Oh, damn! Oh, damn! Ah well, the stomach's unhurt, you'll see. "

Other guests had arrived by this time, and motion became impossible inthe room. The noise of clinking plates and silver had ceased, and now adispute was heard going on in the big drawing room, where the voiceof the manager grumbled angrily. Nana was growing impatient, for sheexpected no more invited guests and wondered why they did not bring insupper. She had just sent Georges to find out what was going on when, to her great surprise, she noticed the arrival of more guests, bothmale and female. She did not know them in the least. Whereupon withsome embarrassment she questioned Bordenave, Mignon and Labordette aboutthem. They did not know them any more than she did, but when she turnedto the Count de Vandeuvres he seemed suddenly to recollect himself. Theywere the young men he had pressed into her service at Count Muffat's. Nana thanked him. That was capital, capital! Only they would all beterribly crowded, and she begged Labordette to go and have seven morecovers set. Scarcely had he left the room than the footman ushered inthree newcomers. Nay, this time the thing was becoming ridiculous; onecertainly could never take them all in. Nana was beginning to grow angryand in her haughtiest manner announced that such conduct was scarcelyin good taste. But seeing two more arrive, she began laughing; it wasreally too funny. So much the worse. People would have to fit in anyhow!The company were all on their feet save Gaga and Rose and Bordenave, whoalone took up two armchairs. There was a buzz of voices, people talkingin low tones and stifling slight yawns the while. 

"Now what d'you say, my lass, " asked Bordenave, "to our sitting down attable as if nothing had happened? We are all here, don't you think?"

"Oh yes, we're all here, I promise you!" she answered laughingly. 

She looked round her but grew suddenly serious, as though she weresurprised at not finding someone. Doubtless there was a guest missingwhom she did not mention. It was a case of waiting. But a minute or twolater the company noticed in their midst a tall gentleman with a fineface and a beautiful white beard. The most astonishing thing about itwas that nobody had seen him come in; indeed, he must have slipped intothe little drawing room through the bedroom door, which had remainedajar. Silence reigned, broken only by a sound of whispering. The Countde Vandeuvres certainly knew who the gentleman was, for they bothexchanged a discreet handgrip, but to the questions which the womenasked him he replied by a smile only. Thereupon Caroline Hequet wageredin a low voice that it was an English lord who was on the eve ofreturning to London to be married. She knew him quite well--she hadhad him. And this account of the matter went the round of the ladiespresent, Maria Blond alone asserting that, for her part, she recognizeda German ambassador. She could prove it, because he often passed thenight with one of her friends. Among the men his measure was taken in afew rapid phrases. A real swell, to judge by his looks! Perhaps he wouldpay for the supper! Most likely. It looked like it. Bah! Provided onlythe supper was a good one! In the end the company remained undecided. Nay, they were already beginning to forget the old white-beardedgentleman when the manager opened the door of the large drawing room. 

"Supper is on the table, madame. "

Nana had already accepted Steiner's proffered arm without noticing amovement on the part of the old gentleman, who started to walk behindher in solitary state. Thus the march past could not be organized, andmen and women entered anyhow, joking with homely good humor over thisabsence of ceremony. A long table stretched from one end to the other ofthe great room, which had been entirely cleared of furniture, and thissame table was not long enough, for the plates thereon were touching oneanother. Four candelabra, with ten candles apiece, lit up the supper, and of these one was gorgeous in silver plate with sheaves of flowersto right and left of it. Everything was luxurious after the restaurantfashion; the china was ornamented with a gold line and lacked thecustomary monogram; the silver had become worn and tarnished throughdint of continual washings; the glass was of the kind that you cancomplete an odd set of in any cheap emporium. 

The scene suggested a premature housewarming in an establishment newlysmiled on by fortune and as yet lacking the necessary conveniences. There was no central luster, and the candelabra, whose tall tapers hadscarcely burned up properly, cast a pale yellow light among the dishesand stands on which fruit, cakes and preserves alternated symmetrically. 

"You sit where you like, you know, " said Nana. "It's more amusing thatway. "

She remained standing midway down the side of the table. The oldgentleman whom nobody knew had placed himself on her right, while shekept Steiner on her left hand. Some guests were already sitting downwhen the sound of oaths came from the little drawing room. It wasBordenave. The company had forgotten him, and he was having all thetrouble in the world to raise himself out of his two armchairs, for hewas howling amain and calling for that cat of a Simonne, who had slippedoff with the rest. The women ran in to him, full of pity for his woes, and Bordenave appeared, supported, nay, almost carried, by Caroline, Clarisse, Tatan Nene and Maria Blond. And there was much to-do over hisinstallation at the table. 

"In the middle, facing Nana!" was the cry. "Bordenave in the middle!He'll be our president!"

Thereupon the ladies seated him in the middle. But he needed a secondchair for his leg, and two girls lifted it up and stretched it carefullyout. It wouldn't matter; he would eat sideways. 

"God blast it all!" he grumbled. "We're squashed all the same! Ah, mykittens, Papa recommends himself to your tender care!"

He had Rose Mignon on his right and Lucy Stewart on his left hand, and they promised to take good care of him. Everybody was now gettingsettled. Count de Vandeuvres placed himself between Lucy and Clarisse;Fauchery between Rose Mignon and Caroline Hequet. On the other side ofthe table Hector de la Faloise had rushed to get next Gaga, and thatdespite the calls of Clarisse opposite, while Mignon, who never desertedSteiner, was only separated from him by Blanche and had Tatan Nene onhis left. Then came Labordette and, finally, at the two ends of thetable were irregular crowding groups of young men and of women, suchas Simonne, Lea de Horn and Maria Blond. It was in this region thatDaguenet and Georges forgathered more warmly than ever while smilinglygazing at Nana. 

Nevertheless, two people remained standing, and there was much jokingabout it. The men offered seats on their knees. Clarisse, who could notmove her elbows, told Vandeuvres that she counted on him to feed her. And then that Bordenave did just take up space with his chairs! Therewas a final effort, and at last everybody was seated, but, as Mignonloudly remarked, they were confoundedly like herrings in a barrel. 

"Thick asparagus soup a la comtesse, clear soup a la Deslignac, "murmured the waiters, carrying about platefuls in rear of the guests. 

Bordenave was loudly recommending the thick soup when a shout arose, followed by protests and indignant exclamations. The door had justopened, and three late arrivals, a woman and two men, had just come in. Oh dear, no! There was no space for them! Nana, however, without leavingher chair, began screwing up her eyes in the effort to find out whethershe knew them. The woman was Louise Violaine, but she had never seen themen before. 

"This gentleman, my dear, " said Vandeuvres, "is a friend of mine, anaval officer, Monsieur de Foucarmont by name. I invited him. "

Foucarmont bowed and seemed very much at ease, for he added:

"And I took leave to bring one of my friends with me. "

"Oh, it's quite right, quite right!" said Nana. "Sit down, pray. Let'ssee, you--Clarisse--push up a little. You're a good deal spread out downthere. That's it--where there's a will--"

They crowded more tightly than ever, and Foucarmont and Louise weregiven a little stretch of table, but the friend had to sit at somedistance from his plate and ate his supper through dint of making a longarm between his neighbors' shoulders. The waiters took away the soupplates and circulated rissoles of young rabbit with truffles and"niokys" and powdered cheese. Bordenave agitated the whole table withthe announcement that at one moment he had had the idea of bringingwith him Prulliere, Fontan and old Bosc. At this Nana looked sedate andremarked dryly that she would have given them a pretty reception. Hadshe wanted colleagues, she would certainly have undertaken to ask themherself. No, no, she wouldn't have third-rate play actors. Old Bosc wasalways drunk; Prulliere was fond of spitting too much, and as to Fontan, he made himself unbearable in society with his loud voice and his stupiddoings. Then, you know, third-rate play actors were always out of placewhen they found themselves in the society of gentlemen such as thosearound her. 

"Yes, yes, it's true, " Mignon declared. 

All round the table the gentlemen in question looked unimpeachable inthe extreme, what with their evening dress and their pale features, thenatural distinction of which was still further refined by fatigue. Theold gentleman was as deliberate in his movements and wore as subtlea smile as though he were presiding over a diplomatic congress, andVandeuvres, with his exquisite politeness toward the ladies next tohim, seemed to be at one of the Countess Muffat's receptions. That verymorning Nana had been remarking to her aunt that in the matter ofmen one could not have done better--they were all either wellborn orwealthy, in fact, quite the thing. And as to the ladies, they werebehaving admirably. Some of them, such as Blanche, Lea and Louise, hadcome in low dresses, but Gaga's only was perhaps a little too low, themore so because at her age she would have done well not to show her neckat all. Now that the company were finally settled the laughter and thelight jests began to fail. Georges was under the impression that hehad assisted at merrier dinner parties among the good folks of Orleans. There was scarcely any conversation. The men, not being mutuallyacquainted, stared at one another, while the women sat quite quiet, and it was this which especially surprised Georges. He thought themall smugs--he had been under the impression that everybody would beginkissing at once. 

The third course, consisting of a Rhine carp a la Chambord and a saddleof venison a l'anglaise, was being served when Blanche remarked aloud:

"Lucy, my dear, I met your Ollivier on Sunday. How he's grown!"

"Dear me, yes! He's eighteen, " replied Lucy. "It doesn't make me feelany younger. He went back to his school yesterday. "

Her son Ollivier, whom she was wont to speak of with pride, was a pupilat the Ecole de Marine. Then ensued a conversation about the youngpeople, during which all the ladies waxed very tender. Nana describedher own great happiness. Her baby, the little Louis, she said, was nowat the house of her aunt, who brought him round to her every morning ateleven o'clock, when she would take him into her bed, where he playedwith her griffon dog Lulu. It was enough to make one die of laughing tosee them both burying themselves under the clothes at the bottom of thebed. The company had no idea how cunning Louiset had already become. 

"Oh, yesterday I did just pass a day!" said Rose Mignon in her turn. "Just imagine, I went to fetch Charles and Henry at their boardingschool, and I had positively to take them to the theater at night. Theyjumped; they clapped their little hands: 'We shall see Mamma act! Weshall see Mamma act!' Oh, it was a to-do!"

Mignon smiled complaisantly, his eyes moist with paternal tenderness. 

"And at the play itself, " he continued, "they were so funny! Theybehaved as seriously as grown men, devoured Rose with their eyes andasked me why Mamma had her legs bare like that. "

The whole table began laughing, and Mignon looked radiant, for his prideas a father was flattered. He adored his children and had but one objectin life, which was to increase their fortunes by administering themoney gained by Rose at the theater and elsewhere with the businesslikeseverity of a faithful steward. When as first fiddle in the music hallwhere she used to sing he had married her, they had been passionatelyfond of one another. Now they were good friends. There was anunderstanding between them: she labored hard to the full extent of hertalent and of her beauty; he had given up his violin in order the betterto watch over her successes as an actress and as a woman. One could nothave found a more homely and united household anywhere!

"What age is your eldest?" asked Vandeuvres. 

"Henry's nine, " replied Mignon, "but such a big chap for his years!"

Then he chaffed Steiner, who was not fond of children, and with quietaudacity informed him that were he a father, he would make a less stupidhash of his fortune. While talking he watched the banker over Blanche'sshoulders to see if it was coming off with Nana. But for some minutesRose and Fauchery, who were talking very near him, had been getting onhis nerves. Was Rose going to waste time over such a folly as that? Inthat sort of case, by Jove, he blocked the way. And diamond on fingerand with his fine hands in great evidence, he finished discussing afillet of venison. 

Elsewhere the conversation about children continued. La Faloise, rendered very restless by the immediate proximity of Gaga, asked news ofher daughter, whom he had had the pleasure of noticing in her company atthe Varietes. Lili was quite well, but she was still such a tomboy! Hewas astonished to learn that Lili was entering on her nineteenth year. Gaga became even more imposing in his eyes, and when he endeavored tofind out why she had not brought Lili with her:

"Oh no, no, never!" she said stiffly. "Not three months ago shepositively insisted on leaving her boarding school. I was thinking ofmarrying her off at once, but she loves me so that I had to take herhome--oh, so much against my will!"

Her blue eyelids with their blackened lashes blinked and wavered whileshe spoke of the business of settling her young lady. If at her time oflife she hadn't laid by a sou but was still always working to ministerto men's pleasures, especially those very young men, whose grandmothershe might well be, it was truly because she considered a good match offar greater importance than mere savings. And with that she leaned overLa Faloise, who reddened under the huge, naked, plastered shoulder withwhich she well-nigh crushed him. 

"You know, " she murmured, "if she fails it won't be my fault. Butthey're so strange when they're young!"

There was a considerable bustle round the table, and the waitersbecame very active. After the third course the entrees had made theirappearance; they consisted of pullets a la marechale, fillets of solewith shallot sauce and escalopes of Strasbourg pate. The manager, whotill then had been having Meursault served, now offered Chambertin andLeoville. Amid the slight hubbub which the change of plates involvedGeorges, who was growing momentarily more astonished, asked Daguenet ifall the ladies present were similarly provided with children, and theother, who was amused by this question, gave him some further details. Lucy Stewart was the daughter of a man of English origin who greased thewheels of the trains at the Gare du Nord; she was thirty-nine yearsold and had the face of a horse but was adorable withal and, thoughconsumptive, never died. In fact, she was the smartest woman there andrepresented three princes and a duke. Caroline Hequet, born at Bordeaux, daughter of a little clerk long since dead of shame, was lucky enough tobe possessed of a mother with a head on her shoulders, who, after havingcursed her, had made it up again at the end of a year of reflection, being minded, at any rate, to save a fortune for her daughter. Thelatter was twenty-five years old and very passionless and was held to beone of the finest women it is possible to enjoy. Her price never varied. The mother, a model of orderliness, kept the accounts and noted downreceipts and expenditures with severe precision. She managed the wholehousehold from some small lodging two stories above her daughter's, where, moreover, she had established a workroom for dressmaking andplain sewing. As to Blanche de Sivry, whose real name was JacquelineBandu, she hailed from a village near Amiens. Magnificent in person, stupid and untruthful in character, she gave herself out as thegranddaughter of a general and never owned to her thirty-two summers. The Russians had a great taste for her, owing to her embonpoint. ThenDaguenet added a rapid word or two about the rest. There was ClarisseBesnus, whom a lady had brought up from Saint-Aubin-sur-Mer in thecapacity of maid while the lady's husband had started her in quiteanother line. There was Simonne Cabiroche, the daughter of a furnituredealer in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, who had been educated in a largeboarding school with a view to becoming a governess. Finally there wereMaria Blond and Louise Violaine and Lea de Horn, who had all shot up towoman's estate on the pavements of Paris, not to mention Tatan Nene, whohad herded cows in Champagne till she was twenty. 

Georges listened and looked at these ladies, feeling dizzy and excitedby the coarse recital thus crudely whispered in his ear, while behindhis chair the waiters kept repeating in respectful tones:

"Pullets a la marechale; fillets of sole with ravigote sauce. "

"My dear fellow, " said Daguenet, giving him the benefit of hisexperience, "don't take any fish; it'll do you no good at this time ofnight. And be content with Leoville: it's less treacherous. "

A heavy warmth floated upward from the candelabras, from the disheswhich were being handed round, from the whole table where thirty-eighthuman beings were suffocating. And the waiters forgot themselves andran when crossing the carpet, so that it was spotted with grease. Nevertheless, the supper grew scarce any merrier. The ladies trifledwith their meat, left half of it uneaten. Tatan Nene alone partookgluttonously of every dish. At that advanced hour of the night hungerwas of the nervous order only, a mere whimsical craving born of anexasperated stomach. 

At Nana's side the old gentleman refused every dish offered him; hehad only taken a spoonful of soup, and he now sat in front of hisempty plate, gazing silently about. There was some subdued yawning, andoccasionally eyelids closed and faces became haggard and white. It wasunutterably slow, as it always was, according to Vandeuvres's dictum. This sort of supper should be served anyhow if it was to be funny, heopined. Otherwise when elegantly and conventionally done you might aswell feed in good society, where you were not more bored than here. Hadit not been for Bordenave, who was still bawling away, everybody wouldhave fallen asleep. That rum old buffer Bordenave, with his leg dulystretched on its chair, was letting his neighbors, Lucy and Rose, waiton him as though he were a sultan. They were entirely taken up with him, and they helped him and pampered him and watched over his glass and hisplate, and yet that did not prevent his complaining. 

"Who's going to cut up my meat for me? I can't; the table's a leagueaway. "

Every few seconds Simonne rose and took up a position behind his back inorder to cut his meat and his bread. All the women took a great interestin the things he ate. The waiters were recalled, and he was stuffed tosuffocation. Simonne having wiped his mouth for him while Rose and Lucywere changing his plate, her act struck him as very pretty and, deigningat length to show contentment:

"There, there, my daughter, " he said, "that's as it should be. Women aremade for that!"

There was a slight reawakening, and conversation became general as theyfinished discussing some orange sherbet. The hot roast was a fillet withtruffles, and the cold roast a galantine of guinea fowl in jelly. Nana, annoyed by the want of go displayed by her guests, had begun talkingwith the greatest distinctness. 

"You know the Prince of Scots has already had a stage box reserved so asto see the Blonde Venus when he comes to visit the exhibition. "

"I very much hope that all the princes will come and see it, " declaredBordenave with his mouth full. 

"They are expecting the shah of Persia next Sunday, " said Lucy Stewart. Whereupon Rose Mignon spoke of the shah's diamonds. He wore a tunicentirely covered with gems; it was a marvel, a flaming star; itrepresented millions. And the ladies, with pale faces and eyesglittering with covetousness, craned forward and ran over the names ofthe other kings, the other emperors, who were shortly expected. All ofthem were dreaming of some royal caprice, some night to be paid for by afortune. 

"Now tell me, dear boy, " Caroline Hequet asked Vandeuvres, leaningforward as she did so, "how old's the emperor of Russia?"

"Oh, he's 'present time, '" replied the count, laughing. "Nothing to bedone in that quarter, I warn you. "

Nana made pretense of being hurt. The witticism appeared somewhattoo stinging, and there was a murmur of protest. But Blanche gave adescription of the king of Italy, whom she had once seen at Milan. Hewas scarcely good looking, and yet that did not prevent him enjoyingall the women. She was put out somewhat when Fauchery assured her thatVictor Emmanuel could not come to the exhibition. Louise Violaine andLea favored the emperor of Austria, and all of a sudden little MariaBlond was heard saying:

"What an old stick the king of Prussia is! I was at Baden last year, andone was always meeting him about with Count Bismarck. "

"Dear me, Bismarck!" Simonne interrupted. "I knew him once, I did. Acharming man. "

"That's what I was saying yesterday, " cried Vandeuvres, "but nobodywould believe me. "

And just as at Countess Sabine's, there ensued a long discussion aboutBismarck. Vandeuvres repeated the same phrases, and for a moment or twoone was again in the Muffats' drawing room, the only difference beingthat the ladies were changed. Then, just as last night, they passed onto a discussion on music, after which, Foucarmont having let slip somemention of the assumption of the veil of which Paris was still talking, Nana grew quite interested and insisted on details about Mlle deFougeray. Oh, the poor child, fancy her burying herself alive like that!Ah well, when it was a question of vocation! All round the table thewomen expressed themselves much touched, and Georges, wearied at hearingthese things a second time discussed, was beginning to ask Daguenetabout Nana's ways in private life, when the conversation veeredfatefully back to Count Bismarck. Tatan Nene bent toward Labordette toask him privily who this Bismarck might be, for she did not know him. Whereupon Labordette, in cold blood, told her some portentous anecdotes. This Bismarck, he said, was in the habit of eating raw meat and whenhe met a woman near his den would carry her off thither on his back;at forty years of age he had already had as many as thirty-two childrenthat way. 

"Thirty-two children at forty!" cried Tatan Nene, stupefied and yetconvinced. "He must be jolly well worn out for his age. "

There was a burst of merriment, and it dawned on her that she was beingmade game of. 

"You sillies! How am I to know if you're joking?"

Gaga, meanwhile, had stopped at the exhibition. Like all these ladies, she was delightedly preparing for the fray. A good season, provincialsand foreigners rushing into Paris! In the long run, perhaps, after theclose of the exhibition she would, if her business had flourished, beable to retire to a little house at Jouvisy, which she had long had hereye on. 

"What's to be done?" she said to La Faloise. "One never gets what onewants! Oh, if only one were still really loved!"

Gaga behaved meltingly because she had felt the young man's knee gentlyplaced against her own. He was blushing hotly and lisping as elegantlyas ever. She weighed him at a glance. Not a very heavy little gentleman, to be sure, but then she wasn't hard to please. La Faloise obtained heraddress. 

"Just look there, " murmured Vandeuvres to Clarisse. "I think Gaga'sdoing you out of your Hector. "

"A good riddance, so far as I'm concerned, " replied the actress. "Thatfellow's an idiot. I've already chucked him downstairs three times. Youknow, I'm disgusted when dirty little boys run after old women. "

She broke off and with a little gesture indicated Blanche, who from thecommencement of dinner had remained in a most uncomfortable attitude, sitting up very markedly, with the intention of displaying her shouldersto the old distinguished-looking gentleman three seats beyond her. 

"You're being left too, " she resumed. 

Vandeuvres smiled his thin smile and made a little movement to signifyhe did not care. Assuredly 'twas not he who would ever have preventedpoor, dear Blanche scoring a success. He was more interested by thespectacle which Steiner was presenting to the table at large. The bankerwas noted for his sudden flames. That terrible German Jew who brewedmoney, whose hands forged millions, was wont to turn imbecile wheneverhe became enamored of a woman. He wanted them all too! Not one couldmake her appearance on the stage but he bought her, however expensiveshe might be. Vast sums were quoted. Twice had his furious appetitefor courtesans ruined him. The courtesans, as Vandeuvres used to say, avenged public morality by emptying his moneybags. A big operation inthe saltworks of the Landes had rendered him powerful on 'change, andso for six weeks past the Mignons had been getting a pretty slice out ofthose same saltworks. But people were beginning to lay wagers that theMignons would not finish their slice, for Nana was showing her whiteteeth. Once again Steiner was in the toils, and so deeply this time thatas he sat by Nana's side he seemed stunned; he ate without appetite;his lip hung down; his face was mottled. She had only to name afigure. Nevertheless, she did not hurry but continued playing with him, breathing her merry laughter into his hairy ear and enjoying the littleconvulsive movements which kept traversing his heavy face. There wouldalways be time enough to patch all that up if that ninny of a CountMuffat were really to treat her as Joseph did Potiphar's wife. 

"Leoville or Chambertin?" murmured a waiter, who came craning forwardbetween Nana and Steiner just as the latter was addressing her in a lowvoice. 

"Eh, what?" he stammered, losing his head. "Whatever you like--I don'tcare. "

Vandeuvres gently nudged Lucy Stewart, who had a very spiteful tongueand a very fierce invention when once she was set going. That eveningMignon was driving her to exasperation. 

"He would gladly be bottleholder, you know, " she remarked to the count. "He's in hopes of repeating what he did with little Jonquier. Youremember: Jonquier was Rose's man, but he was sweet on big Laure. NowMignon procured Laure for Jonquier and then came back arm in arm withhim to Rose, as if he were a husband who had been allowed a littlepeccadillo. But this time the thing's going to fail. Nana doesn't giveup the men who are lent her. "

"What ails Mignon that he should be looking at his wife in that severeway?" asked Vandeuvres. 

He leaned forward and saw Rose growing exceedingly amorous towardFauchery. This was the explanation of his neighbor's wrath. He resumedlaughingly:

"The devil, are you jealous?"

"Jealous!" said Lucy in a fury. "Good gracious, if Rose is wantingLeon I give him up willingly--for what he's worth! That's to say, fora bouquet a week and the rest to match! Look here, my dear boy, thesetheatrical trollops are all made the same way. Why, Rose cried withrage when she read Leon's article on Nana; I know she did. So now, youunderstand, she must have an article, too, and she's gaining it. As forme, I'm going to chuck Leon downstairs--you'll see!"

She paused to say "Leoville" to the waiter standing behind her with histwo bottles and then resumed in lowered tones:

"I don't want to shout; it isn't my style. But she's a cocky slut allthe same. If I were in her husband's place I should lead her a lovelydance. Oh, she won't be very happy over it. She doesn't know myFauchery: a dirty gent he is, too, palling up with women like that so asto get on in the world. Oh, a nice lot they are!"

Vandeuvres did his best to calm her down, but Bordenave, deserted byRose and by Lucy, grew angry and cried out that they were letting Papaperish of hunger and thirst. This produced a fortunate diversion. Yetthe supper was flagging; no one was eating now, though platefuls ofcepes a' l'italienne and pineapple fritters a la Pompadour were beingmangled. The champagne, however, which had been drunk ever since thesoup course, was beginning little by little to warm the guests intoa state of nervous exaltation. They ended by paying less attention todecorum than before. The women began leaning on their elbows amid thedisordered table arrangements, while the men, in order to breathe moreeasily, pushed their chairs back, and soon the black coats appearedburied between the light-colored bodices, and bare shoulders, halfturned toward the table, began to gleam as soft as silk. It was toohot, and the glare of the candles above the table grew ever yellower andduller. Now and again, when a women bent forward, the back of her neckglowed golden under a rain of curls, and the glitter of a diamond clasplit up a lofty chignon. There was a touch of fire in the passingjests, in the laughing eyes, in the sudden gleam of white teeth, in thereflection of the candelabra on the surface of a glass of champagne. Thecompany joked at the tops of their voices, gesticulated, asked questionswhich no one answered and called to one another across the whole lengthof the room. But the loudest din was made by the waiters; they fanciedthemselves at home in the corridors of their parent restaurant;they jostled one another and served the ices and the dessert to anaccompaniment of guttural exclamations. 

"My children, " shouted Bordenave, "you know we're playing tomorrow. Becareful! Not too much champagne!"

"As far as I'm concerned, " said Foucarmont, "I've drunk every imaginablekind of wine in all the four quarters of the globe. Extraordinaryliquors some of 'em, containing alcohol enough to kill a corpse! Well, and what d'you think? Why, it never hurt me a bit. I can't make myselfdrunk. I've tried and I can't. "

He was very pale, very calm and collected, and he lolled back in hischair, drinking without cessation. 

"Never mind that, " murmured Louise Violaine. "Leave off; you've hadenough. It would be a funny business if I had to look after you the restof the night. "

Such was her state of exaltation that Lucy Stewart's cheeks wereassuming a red, consumptive flush, while Rose Mignon with moist eyelidswas growing excessively melting. Tatan Nene, greatly astonished at thethought that she had overeaten herself, was laughing vaguely over herown stupidity. The others, such as Blanche, Caroline, Simonne and Maria, were all talking at once and telling each other about their privateaffairs--about a dispute with a coachman, a projected picnic andinnumerable complex stories of lovers stolen or restored. Meanwhile ayoung man near Georges, having evinced a desire to kiss Lea de Horn, received a sharp rap, accompanied by a "Look here, you, let me go!"which was spoken in a tone of fine indignation; and Georges, who wasnow very tipsy and greatly excited by the sight of Nana, hesitated aboutcarrying out a project which he had been gravely maturing. He had beenplanning, indeed, to get under the table on all fours and to go andcrouch at Nana's feet like a little dog. Nobody would have seen him, andhe would have stayed there in the quietest way. But when at Lea's urgentrequest Daguenet had told the young man to sit still, Georges all atonce felt grievously chagrined, as though the reproof had just beenleveled at him. Oh, it was all silly and slow, and there was nothingworth living for! Daguenet, nevertheless, began chaffing and obliged himto swallow a big glassful of water, asking him at the same time whathe would do if he were to find himself alone with a woman, seeing thatthree glasses of champagne were able to bowl him over. 

"Why, in Havana, " resumed Foucarmont, "they make a spirit with a certainwild berry; you think you're swallowing fire! Well now, one evening Idrank more than a liter of it, and it didn't hurt me one bit. Betterthan that, another time when we were on the coast of Coromandel somesavages gave us I don't know what sort of a mixture of pepper andvitriol, and that didn't hurt me one bit. I can't make myself drunk. "

For some moments past La Faloise's face opposite had excited hisdispleasure. He began sneering and giving vent to disagreeablewitticisms. La Faloise, whose brain was in a whirl, was behaving veryrestlessly and squeezing up against Gaga. But at length he became thevictim of anxiety; somebody had just taken his handkerchief, and withdrunken obstinacy he demanded it back again, asked his neighbors aboutit, stooped down in order to look under the chairs and the guests' feet. And when Gaga did her best to quiet him:

"It's a nuisance, " he murmured, "my initials and my coronet are workedin the corner. They may compromise me. "

"I say, Monsieur Falamoise, Lamafoise, Mafaloise!" shouted Foucarmont, who thought it exceedingly witty thus to disfigure the young man's namead infinitum. 

But La Faloise grew wroth and talked with a stutter about his ancestry. He threatened to send a water bottle at Foucarmont's head, and Count deVandeuvres had to interfere in order to assure him that Foucarmont wasa great joker. Indeed, everybody was laughing. This did for the alreadyflurried young man, who was very glad to resume his seat and to begineating with childlike submissiveness when in a loud voice his cousinordered him to feed. Gaga had taken him back to her ample side; onlyfrom time to time he cast sly and anxious glances at the guests, for heceased not to search for his handkerchief. 

Then Foucarmont, being now in his witty vein, attacked Labordette rightat the other end of the table. Louise Violaine strove to make him holdhis tongue, for, she said, "when he goes nagging at other people likethat it always ends in mischief for me. " He had discovered a witticismwhich consisted in addressing Labordette as "Madame, " and it musthave amused him greatly, for he kept on repeating it while Labordettetranquilly shrugged his shoulders and as constantly replied:

"Pray hold your tongue, my dear fellow; it's stupid. "

But as Foucarmont failed to desist and even became insulting without hisneighbors knowing why, he left off answering him and appealed to CountVandeuvres. 

"Make your friend hold his tongue, monsieur. I don't wish to becomeangry. "

Foucarmont had twice fought duels, and he was in consequence mostpolitely treated and admitted into every circle. But there was now ageneral uprising against him. The table grew merry at his sallies, forthey thought him very witty, but that was no reason why the eveningshould be spoiled. Vandeuvres, whose subtle countenance was darkeningvisibly, insisted on his restoring Labordette his sex. The othermen--Mignon, Steiner and Bordenave--who were by this time much exalted, also intervened with shouts which drowned his voice. Only the oldgentleman sitting forgotten next to Nana retained his stately demeanorand, still smiling in his tired, silent way, watched with lacklustereyes the untoward finish of the dessert. 

"What do you say to our taking coffee in here, duckie?" said Bordenave. "We're very comfortable. "

Nana did not give an immediate reply. Since the beginning of supper shehad seemed no longer in her own house. All this company had overwhelmedand bewildered her with their shouts to the waiters, the loudness oftheir voices and the way in which they put themselves at their ease, just as though they were in a restaurant. Forgetting her role ofhostess, she busied herself exclusively with bulky Steiner, who wasverging on apoplexy beside her. She was listening to his proposals andcontinually refusing them with shakes of the head and that temptress'slaughter which is peculiar to a voluptuous blonde. The champagne she hadbeen drinking had flushed her a rosy-red; her lips were moist; her eyessparkled, and the banker's offers rose with every kittenish movement ofher shoulders, with every little voluptuous lift and fall of her throat, which occurred when she turned her head. Close by her ear he keptespying a sweet little satiny corner which drove him crazy. OccasionallyNana was interrupted, and then, remembering her guests, she would tryand be as pleased as possible in order to show that she knew how toreceive. Toward the end of the supper she was very tipsy. It made hermiserable to think of it, but champagne had a way of intoxicating heralmost directly! Then an exasperating notion struck her. In behavingthus improperly at her table, these ladies were showing themselvesanxious to do her an ugly turn. Oh yes, she could see it all distinctly. Lucy had given Foucarmont a wink in order to egg him on againstLabordette, while Rose, Caroline and the others were doing all theycould to stir up the men. Now there was such a din you couldn't hearyour neighbor speak, and so the story would get about that you mightallow yourself every kind of liberty when you supped at Nana's. Verywell then! They should see! She might be tipsy, if you like, but she wasstill the smartest and most ladylike woman there. 

"Do tell them to serve the coffee here, duckie, " resumed Bordenave. "Iprefer it here because of my leg. "

But Nana had sprung savagely to her feet after whispering into theastonished ears of Steiner and the old gentleman:

"It's quite right; it'll teach me to go and invite a dirty lot likethat. "

Then she pointed to the door of the dining room and added at the top ofher voice:

"If you want coffee it's there, you know. "

The company left the table and crowded toward the dining room withoutnoticing Nana's indignant outburst. And soon no one was left in thedrawing room save Bordenave, who advanced cautiously, supporting himselfagainst the wall and cursing away at the confounded women who chuckedPapa the moment they were chock-full. The waiters behind him werealready busy removing the plates and dishes in obedience to the loudlyvoiced orders of the manager. They rushed to and fro, jostled oneanother, caused the whole table to vanish, as a pantomime propertymight at the sound of the chief scene-shifter's whistle. The ladiesand gentlemen were to return to the drawing room after drinking theircoffee. 

"By gum, it's less hot here, " said Gaga with a slight shiver as sheentered the dining room. 

The window here had remained open. Two lamps illuminated the table, where coffee and liqueurs were set out. There were no chairs, and theguests drank their coffee standing, while the hubbub the waiters weremaking in the next room grew louder and louder. Nana had disappeared, but nobody fretted about her absence. They did without her excellentlywell, and everybody helped himself and rummaged in the drawers of thesideboard in search of teaspoons, which were lacking. Several groupswere formed; people separated during supper rejoined each other, andthere was an interchange of glances, of meaning laughter and of phraseswhich summed up recent situations. 

"Ought not Monsieur Fauchery to come and lunch with us one of thesedays, Auguste?" said Rose Mignon. 

Mignon, who was toying with his watch chain, eyed the journalist fora second or two with his severe glance. Rose was out of her senses. Asbecame a good manager, he would put a stop to such spendthrift courses. In return for a notice, well and good, but afterward, decidedly not. Nevertheless, as he was fully aware of his wife's wrongheadedness and ashe made it a rule to wink paternally at a folly now and again, when suchwas necessary, he answered amiably enough:

"Certainly, I shall be most happy. Pray come tomorrow, MonsieurFauchery. "

Lucy Stewart heard this invitation given while she was talking withSteiner and Blanche and, raising her voice, she remarked to the banker:

"It's a mania they've all of them got. One of them even went so far asto steal my dog. Now, dear boy, am I to blame if you chuck her?"

Rose turned round. She was very pale and gazed fixedly at Steiner as shesipped her coffee. And then all the concentrated anger she felt at hisabandonment of her flamed out in her eyes. She saw more clearly thanMignon; it was stupid in him to have wished to begin the Jonquier ruse asecond time--those dodgers never succeeded twice running. Well, somuch the worse for him! She would have Fauchery! She had been gettingenamored of him since the beginning of supper, and if Mignon was notpleased it would teach him greater wisdom!

"You are not going to fight?" said Vandeuvres, coming over to LucyStewart. 

"No, don't be afraid of that! Only she must mind and keep quiet, or Ilet the cat out of the bag!"

Then signing imperiously to Fauchery:

"I've got your slippers at home, my little man. I'll get them taken toyour porter's lodge for you tomorrow. "

He wanted to joke about it, but she swept off, looking like a queen. Clarisse, who had propped herself against a wall in order to drinka quiet glass of kirsch, was seen to shrug her shoulders. A pleasantbusiness for a man! Wasn't it true that the moment two women weretogether in the presence of their lovers their first idea was to doone another out of them? It was a law of nature! As to herself, why, inheaven's name, if she had wanted to she would have torn out Gaga's eyeson Hector's account! But la, she despised him! Then as La Faloise passedby, she contented herself by remarking to him:

"Listen, my friend, you like 'em well advanced, you do! You don't want'em ripe; you want 'em mildewed!"

La Faloise seemed much annoyed and not a little anxious. Seeing Clarissemaking game of him, he grew suspicious of her. 

"No humbug, I say, " he muttered. "You've taken my handkerchief. Wellthen, give it back!"

"He's dreeing us with that handkerchief of his!" she cried. "Why, youass, why should I have taken it from you?"

"Why should you?" he said suspiciously. "Why, that you may send it to mypeople and compromise me. "

In the meantime Foucarmont was diligently attacking the liqueurs. Hecontinued to gaze sneeringly at Labordette, who was drinking his coffeein the midst of the ladies. And occasionally he gave vent to fragmentaryassertions, as thus: "He's the son of a horse dealer; some say theillegitimate child of a countess. Never a penny of income, yet alwaysgot twenty-five louis in his pocket! Footboy to the ladies of the town!A big lubber, who never goes with any of 'em! Never, never, never!" herepeated, growing furious. "No, by Jove! I must box his ears. "

He drained a glass of chartreuse. The chartreuse had not the slightesteffect upon him; it didn't affect him "even to that extent, " and heclicked his thumbnail against the edge of his teeth. But suddenly, justas he was advancing upon Labordette, he grew ashy white and fell down ina heap in front of the sideboard. He was dead drunk. Louise Violaine wasbeside herself. She had been quite right to prophesy that matters wouldend badly, and now she would have her work cut out for the remainder ofthe night. Gaga reassured her. She examined the officer with the eyeof a woman of experience and declared that there was nothing much thematter and that the gentleman would sleep like that for at least adozen or fifteen hours without any serious consequences. Foucarmont wascarried off. 

"Well, where's Nana gone to?" asked Vandeuvres. 

Yes, she had certainly flown away somewhere on leaving the table. Thecompany suddenly recollected her, and everybody asked for her. Steiner, who for some seconds had been uneasy on her account, asked Vandeuvresabout the old gentleman, for he, too, had disappeared. But the countreassured him--he had just brought the old gentleman back. He was astranger, whose name it was useless to mention. Suffice it to say thathe was a very rich man who was quite pleased to pay for suppers! Then asNana was once more being forgotten, Vandeuvres saw Daguenet looking outof an open door and beckoning to him. And in the bedroom he found themistress of the house sitting up, white-lipped and rigid, while Daguenetand Georges stood gazing at her with an alarmed expression. 

"What IS the matter with you?" he asked in some surprise. 

She neither answered nor turned her head, and he repeated his question. 

"Why, this is what's the matter with me, " she cried out at length; "Iwon't let them make bloody sport of me!"

Thereupon she gave vent to any expression that occurred to her. Yes, oh yes, SHE wasn't a ninny--she could see clearly enough. They hadbeen making devilish light of her during supper and saying all sortsof frightful things to show that they thought nothing of her! A pack ofsluts who weren't fit to black her boots! Catch her bothering herselfagain just to be badgered for it after! She really didn't know what kepther from chucking all that dirty lot out of the house! And with this, rage choked her and her voice broke down in sobs. 

"Come, come, my lass, you're drunk, " said Vandeuvres, growing familiar. "You must be reasonable. "

No, she would give her refusal now; she would stay where she was. 

"I am drunk--it's quite likely! But I want people to respect me!"

For a quarter of an hour past Daguenet and Georges had been vainlybeseeching her to return to the drawing room. She was obstinate, however; her guests might do what they liked; she despised them too muchto come back among them. 

No, she never would, never. They might tear her in pieces before shewould leave her room!

"I ought to have had my suspicions, " she resumed. 

"It's that cat of a Rose who's got the plot up! I'm certain Rose'll havestopped that respectable woman coming whom I was expecting tonight. "

She referred to Mme Robert. Vandeuvres gave her his word of honor thatMme Robert had given a spontaneous refusal. He listened and he arguedwith much gravity, for he was well accustomed to similar scenes and knewhow women in such a state ought to be treated. But the moment he triedto take hold of her hands in order to lift her up from her chair anddraw her away with him she struggled free of his clasp, and her wrathredoubled. Now, just look at that! They would never get her to believethat Fauchery had not put the Count Muffat off coming! A regular snakewas that Fauchery, an envious sort, a fellow capable of growing madagainst a woman and of destroying her whole happiness. For she knewthis--the count had become madly devoted to her! She could have had him!

"Him, my dear, never!" cried Vandeuvres, forgetting himself and laughingloud. 

"Why not?" she asked, looking serious and slightly sobered. 

"Because he's thoroughly in the hands of the priests, and if he wereonly to touch you with the tips of his fingers he would go and confessit the day after. Now listen to a bit of good advice. Don't let theother man escape you!"

She was silent and thoughtful for a moment or two. Then she got up andwent and bathed her eyes. Yet when they wanted to take her into thedining room she still shouted "No!" furiously. Vandeuvres left thebedroom, smiling and without further pressing her, and the moment hewas gone she had an access of melting tenderness, threw herself intoDaguenet's arms and cried out:

"Ah, my sweetie, there's only you in the world. I love you! YES, I loveyou from the bottom of my heart! Oh, it would be too nice if we couldalways live together. My God! How unfortunate women are!"

Then her eye fell upon Georges, who, seeing them kiss, was growing veryred, and she kissed him too. Sweetie could not be jealous of a baby! Shewanted Paul and Georges always to agree, because it would be so nice forthem all three to stay like that, knowing all the time that they lovedone another very much. But an extraordinary noise disturbed them:someone was snoring in the room. Whereupon after some searching theyperceived Bordenave, who, since taking his coffee, must have comfortablyinstalled himself there. He was sleeping on two chairs, his head proppedon the edge of the bed and his leg stretched out in front. Nanathought him so funny with his open mouth and his nose moving with eachsuccessive snore that she was shaken with a mad fit of laughter. Sheleft the room, followed by Daguenet and Georges, crossed the diningroom, entered the drawing room, her merriment increasing at every step. 

"Oh, my dear, you've no idea!" she cried, almost throwing herself intoRose's arms. "Come and see it. "

All the women had to follow her. She took their hands coaxingly and drewthem along with her willy-nilly, accompanying her action with so frankan outburst of mirth that they all of them began laughing on trust. Theband vanished and returned after standing breathlessly for a second ortwo round Bordenave's lordly, outstretched form. And then there wasa burst of laughter, and when one of them told the rest to be quietBordenave's distant snorings became audible. 

It was close on four o'clock. In the dining room a card table had justbeen set out, at which Vandeuvres, Steiner, Mignon and Labordette hadtaken their seats. Behind them Lucy and Caroline stood making bets, while Blanche, nodding with sleep and dissatisfied about her night, keptasking Vandeuvres at intervals of five minutes if they weren't goingsoon. In the drawing room there was an attempt at dancing. Daguenet wasat the piano or "chest of drawers, " as Nana called it. She did notwant a "thumper, " for Mimi would play as many waltzes and polkas asthe company desired. But the dance was languishing, and the ladies werechatting drowsily together in the corners of sofas. Suddenly, however, there was an outburst of noise. A band of eleven young men had arrivedand were laughing loudly in the anteroom and crowding to the drawingroom. They had just come from the ball at the Ministry of the Interiorand were in evening dress and wore various unknown orders. Nana wasannoyed at this riotous entry, called to the waiters who still remainedin the kitchen and ordered them to throw these individuals out ofdoors. She vowed that she had never seen any of them before. Fauchery, Labordette, Daguenet and the rest of the men had all come forward inorder to enforce respectful behavior toward their hostess. Big wordsflew about; arms were outstretched, and for some seconds a generalexchange of fisticuffs was imminent. Notwithstanding this, however, alittle sickly looking light-haired man kept insistently repeating:

"Come, come, Nana, you saw us the other evening at Peters' in the greatred saloon! Pray remember, you invited us. "

The other evening at Peters'? She did not remember it all. To beginwith, what evening?

And when the little light-haired man had mentioned the day, which wasWednesday, she distinctly remembered having supped at Peters' on theWednesday, but she had given no invitation to anyone; she was almostsure of that. 

"However, suppose you HAVE invited them, my good girl, " murmuredLabordette, who was beginning to have his doubts. "Perhaps you were alittle elevated. "

Then Nana fell a-laughing. It was quite possible; she really didn'tknow. So then, since these gentlemen were on the spot, they had herleave to come in. Everything was quietly arranged; several of thenewcomers found friends in the drawing room, and the scene ended inhandshakings. The little sickly looking light-haired man bore one of thegreatest names in France. Furthermore, the eleven announced that otherswere to follow them, and, in fact, the door opened every few moments, and men in white gloves and official garb presented themselves. Theywere still coming from the ball at the Ministry. Fauchery jestinglyinquired whether the minister was not coming, too, but Nana answered ina huff that the minister went to the houses of people she didn't care apin for. What she did not say was that she was possessed with a hope ofseeing Count Muffat enter her room among all that stream of people. Hemight quite have reconsidered his decision, and so while talking to Roseshe kept a sharp eye on the door. 

Five o'clock struck. The dancing had ceased, and the cardplayers alonepersisted in their game. Labordette had vacated his seat, and the womenhad returned into the drawing room. The air there was heavy with thesomnolence which accompanies a long vigil, and the lamps cast a waveringlight while their burned-out wicks glowed red within their globes. The ladies had reached that vaguely melancholy hour when they felt itnecessary to tell each other their histories. Blanche de Sivry spoke ofher grandfather, the general, while Clarisse invented a romantic storyabout a duke seducing her at her uncle's house, whither he used to comefor the boar hunting. Both women, looking different ways, kept shruggingtheir shoulders and asking themselves how the deuce the other could tellsuch whoppers! As to Lucy Stewart, she quietly confessed to her originand of her own accord spoke of her childhood and of the days when herfather, the wheel greaser at the Northern Railway Terminus, used totreat her to an apple puff on Sundays. 

"Oh, I must tell you about it!" cried the little Maria Blond abruptly. "Opposite to me there lives a gentleman, a Russian, an awfully rich man!Well, just fancy, yesterday I received a basket of fruit--oh, it justwas a basket! Enormous peaches, grapes as big as that, simply wonderfulfor the time of year! And in the middle of them six thousand-francnotes! It was the Russian's doing. Of course I sent the whole thing backagain, but I must say my heart ached a little--when I thought of thefruit!"

The ladies looked at one another and pursed up their lips. At her agelittle Maria Blond had a pretty cheek! Besides, to think that suchthings should happen to trollops like her! Infinite was their contemptfor her among themselves. It was Lucy of whom they were particularlyjealous, for they were beside themselves at the thought of her threeprinces. Since Lucy had begun taking a daily morning ride in the Boisthey all had become Amazons, as though a mania possessed them. 

Day was about to dawn, and Nana turned her eyes away from the door, forshe was relinquishing all hope. The company were bored to distraction. Rose Mignon had refused to sing the "Slipper" and sat huddled up on asofa, chatting in a low voice with Fauchery and waiting for Mignon, whohad by now won some fifty louis from Vandeuvres. A fat gentleman witha decoration and a serious cast of countenance had certainly given arecitation in Alsatian accents of "Abraham's Sacrifice, " a piece inwhich the Almighty says, "By My blasted Name" when He swears, and Isaacalways answers with a "Yes, Papa!" Nobody, however, understood what itwas all about, and the piece had been voted stupid. People were attheir wits' end how to make merry and to finish the night withfitting hilarity. For a moment or two Labordette conceived the idea ofdenouncing different women in a whisper to La Faloise, who still wentprowling round each individual lady, looking to see if she were hidinghis handkerchief in her bosom. Soon, as there were still some bottles ofchampagne on the sideboard, the young men again fell to drinking. Theyshouted to one another; they stirred each other up, but a dreary speciesof intoxication, which was stupid enough to drive one to despair, began to overcome the company beyond hope of recovery. Then the littlefair-haired fellow, the man who bore one of the greatest names in Franceand had reached his wit's end and was desperate at the thought that hecould not hit upon something really funny, conceived a brilliant notion:he snatched up his bottle of champagne and poured its contents into thepiano. His allies were convulsed with laughter. 

"La now! Why's he putting champagne into the piano?" asked Tatan Nene ingreat astonishment as she caught sight of him. 

"What, my lass, you don't know why he's doing that?" replied Labordettesolemnly. "There's nothing so good as champagne for pianos. It gives 'emtone. "

"Ah, " murmured Tatan Nene with conviction. 

And when the rest began laughing at her she grew angry. How should sheknow? They were always confusing her. 

Decidedly the evening was becoming a big failure. The night threatenedto end in the unloveliest way. In a corner by themselves Maria Blond andLea de Horn had begun squabbling at close quarters, the former accusingthe latter of consorting with people of insufficient wealth. They weregetting vastly abusive over it, their chief stumbling block being thegood looks of the men in question. Lucy, who was plain, got them to holdtheir tongues. Good looks were nothing, according to her; good figureswere what was wanted. Farther off, on a sofa, an attache had slipped hisarm round Simonne's waist and was trying to kiss her neck, but Simonne, sullen and thoroughly out of sorts, pushed him away at every freshattempt with cries of "You're pestering me!" and sound slaps of the fanacross his face. For the matter of that, not one of the ladies allowedherself to be touched. Did people take them for light women? Gaga, inthe meantime, had once more caught La Faloise and had almost hoistedhim upon her knees while Clarisse was disappearing from view betweentwo gentlemen, shaking with nervous laughter as women will when they aretickled. Round about the piano they were still busy with their littlegame, for they were suffering from a fit of stupid imbecility, whichcaused each man to jostle his fellow in his frantic desire to empty hisbottle into the instrument. It was a simple process and a charming one. 

"Now then, old boy, drink a glass! Devil take it, he's a thirsty piano!Hi! 'Tenshun! Here's another bottle! You mustn't lose a drop!"

Nana's back was turned, and she did not see them. Emphatically she wasnow falling back on the bulky Steiner, who was seated next to her. Somuch the worse! It was all on account of that Muffat, who had refusedwhat was offered him. Sitting there in her white foulard dress, whichwas as light and full of folds as a shift, sitting there with droopedeyelids and cheeks pale with the touch of intoxication from which shewas suffering, she offered herself to him with that quiet expressionwhich is peculiar to a good-natured courtesan. The roses in her hair andat her throat had lost their leaves, and their stalks alone remained. Presently Steiner withdrew his hand quickly from the folds of her skirt, where he had come in contact with the pins that Georges had stuck there. Some drops of blood appeared on his fingers, and one fell on Nana'sdress and stained it. 

"Now the bargain's struck, " said Nana gravely. 

The day was breaking apace. An uncertain glimmer of light, fraught witha poignant melancholy, came stealing through the windows. And withthat the guests began to take their departure. It was a most sour anduncomfortable retreat. Caroline Hequet, annoyed at the loss of hernight, announced that it was high time to be off unless you were anxiousto assist at some pretty scenes. Rose pouted as if her womanly characterhad been compromised. It was always so with these girls; they didn'tknow how to behave and were guilty of disgusting conduct when they madetheir first appearance in society! And Mignon having cleaned Vandeuvresout completely, the family took their departure. They did not troubleabout Steiner but renewed their invitation for tomorrow to Fauchery. Lucy thereupon refused the journalist's escort home and sent himback shrilly to his "strolling actress. " At this Rose turned roundimmediately and hissed out a "Dirty sow" by way of answer. But Mignon, who in feminine quarrels was always paternal, for his experience was along one and rendered him superior to them, had already pushed herout of the house, telling her at the same time to have done. Lucy camedownstairs in solitary state behind them. After which Gaga had to carryoff La Faloise, ill, sobbing like a child, calling after Clarisse, who had long since gone off with her two gentlemen. Simonne, too, had vanished. Indeed, none remained save Tatan, Lea and Maria, whomLabordette complaisantly took under his charge. 

"Oh, but I don't the least bit want to go to bed!" said Nana. "One oughtto find something to do. "

She looked at the sky through the windowpanes. It was a livid sky, andsooty clouds were scudding across it. It was six o'clock in the morning. Over the way, on the opposite side of the Boulevard Haussmann, theglistening roofs of the still-slumbering houses were sharply outlinedagainst the twilight sky while along the deserted roadway a gang ofstreet sweepers passed with a clatter of wooden shoes. As she viewedParis thus grimly awakening, she was overcome by tender, girlishfeelings, by a yearning for the country, for idyllic scenes, for thingssoft and white. 

"Now guess what you're to do, " she said, coming back to Steiner. "You'regoing to take me to the Bois de Boulogne, and we'll drink milk there. "

She clapped her hands in childish glee. Without waiting for the banker'sreply--he naturally consented, though he was really rather bored andinclined to think of other things--she ran off to throw a pelisse overher shoulders. In the drawing room there was now no one with Steinersave the band of young men. These had by this time dropped the verydregs of their glasses into the piano and were talking of going, whenone of their number ran in triumphantly. He held in his hands a lastremaining bottle, which he had brought back with him from the pantry. 

"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" he shouted. "Here's a bottle ofchartreuse; that'll pick him up! And now, my young friends, let's hookit. We're blooming idiots. "

In the dressing room Nana was compelled to wake up Zoe, who had dozedoff on a chair. The gas was still alight, and Zoe shivered as she helpedher mistress on with her hat and pelisse. 

"Well, it's over; I've done what you wanted me to, " said Nana, speakingfamiliarly to the maid in a sudden burst of expansive confidence andmuch relieved at the thought that she had at last made her election. "You were quite right; the banker's as good as another. "

The maid was cross, for she was still heavy with sleep. She grumbledsomething to the effect that Madame ought to have come to a decision thefirst evening. Then following her into the bedroom, she asked what shewas going to do with "those two, " meaning Bordenave, who was snoringaway as usual, and Georges, who had slipped in slyly, buried his head ina pillow and, finally falling asleep there, was now breathing as lightlyand regularly as a cherub. Nana in reply told her that she was to letthem sleep on. But seeing Daguenet come into the room, she again grewtender. He had been watching her from the kitchen and was looking verywretched. 

"Come, my sweetie, be reasonable, " she said, taking him in her armsand kissing him with all sorts of little wheedling caresses. "Nothing'schanged; you know that it's sweetie whom I always adore! Eh, dear? I hadto do it. Why, I swear to you we shall have even nicer times now. Cometomorrow, and we'll arrange about hours. Now be quick, kiss and hug meas you love me. Oh, tighter, tighter than that!"

And she escaped and rejoined Steiner, feeling happy and once morepossessed with the idea of drinking milk. In the empty room the Countde Vandeuvres was left alone with the "decorated" man who had recited"Abraham's Sacrifice. " Both seemed glued to the card table; they hadlost count of their whereabouts and never once noticed the broad lightof day without, while Blanche had made bold to put her feet up on a sofain order to try and get a little sleep. 

"Oh, Blanche is with them!" cried Nana. "We are going to drink milk, dear. Do come; you'll find Vandeuvres here when we return. "

Blanche got up lazily. This time the banker's fiery face grew white withannoyance at the idea of having to take that big wench with him too. Shewas certain to bore him. But the two women had already got him by thearms and were reiterating:

"We want them to milk the cow before our eyes, you know. "

CHAPTER V

At the Varietes they were giving the thirty-fourth performance of theBlonde Venus. The first act had just finished, and in the greenroomSimonne, dressed as the little laundress, was standing in front of aconsole table, surmounted by a looking glass and situated between thetwo corner doors which opened obliquely on the end of the dressing-roompassage. No one was with her, and she was scrutinizing her face andrubbing her finger up and down below her eyes with a view to puttingthe finishing touches to her make-up. The gas jets on either side of themirror flooded her with warm, crude light. 

"Has he arrived?" asked Prulliere, entering the room in his Alpineadmiral's costume, which was set off by a big sword, enormous top bootsand a vast tuft of plumes. 

"Who d'you mean?" said Simonne, taking no notice of him and laughinginto the mirror in order to see how her lips looked. 

"The prince. "

"I don't know; I've just come down. Oh, he's certainly due here tonight;he comes every time!"

Prulliere had drawn near the hearth opposite the console table, wherea coke fire was blazing and two more gas jets were flaring brightly. Helifted his eyes and looked at the clock and the barometer on his righthand and on his left. They had gilded sphinxes by way of adornment inthe style of the First Empire. Then he stretched himself out in a hugearmchair with ears, the green velvet of which had been so worn by fourgenerations of comedians that it looked yellow in places, and there hestayed, with moveless limbs and vacant eyes, in that weary and resignedattitude peculiar to actors who are used to long waits before their turnfor going on the stage. 

Old Bosc, too, had just made his appearance. He came in dragging onefoot behind the other and coughing. He was wrapped in an old box coat, part of which had slipped from his shoulder in such a way as to uncoverthe gold-laced cloak of King Dagobert. He put his crown on the pianoand for a moment or two stood moodily stamping his feet. His handswere trembling slightly with the first beginnings of alcoholism, but helooked a sterling old fellow for all that, and a long white beard lentthat fiery tippler's face of his a truly venerable appearance. Then inthe silence of the room, while the shower of hail was whipping the panesof the great window that looked out on the courtyard, he shook himselfdisgustedly. 

"What filthy weather!" he growled. 

Simonne and Prulliere did not move. Four or five pictures--a landscape, a portrait of the actor Vernet--hung yellowing in the hot glare of thegas, and a bust of Potier, one of the bygone glories of the Varietes, stood gazing vacant-eyed from its pedestal. But just then there was aburst of voices outside. It was Fontan, dressed for the second act. He was a young dandy, and his habiliments, even to his gloves, wereentirely yellow. 

"Now say you don't know!" he shouted, gesticulating. "Today's my patronsaint's day!"

"What?" asked Simonne, coming up smilingly, as though attracted by thehuge nose and the vast, comic mouth of the man. "D'you answer to thename of Achille?"

"Exactly so! And I'm going to get 'em to tell Madame Bron to send upchampagne after the second act. "

For some seconds a bell had been ringing in the distance. The long-drawnsound grew fainter, then louder, and when the bell ceased a shout ran upthe stair and down it till it was lost along the passages. "All on thestage for the second act! All on the stage for the second act!" Thesound drew near, and a little pale-faced man passed by the greenroomdoors, outside each of which he yelled at the top of his shrill voice, "On the stage for the second act!"

"The deuce, it's champagne!" said Prulliere without appearing to hearthe din. "You're prospering!"

"If I were you I should have it in from the cafe, " old Bosc slowlyannounced. He was sitting on a bench covered with green velvet, with hishead against the wall. 

But Simonne said that it was one's duty to consider Mme Bron's smallperquisites. She clapped her hands excitedly and devoured Fontan withher gaze while his long goatlike visage kept up a continuous twitchingof eyes and nose and mouth. 

"Oh, that Fontan!" she murmured. "There's no one like him, no one likehim!"

The two greenroom doors stood wide open to the corridor leading to thewings. And along the yellow wall, which was brightly lit up by a gaslamp out of view, passed a string of rapidly moving shadows--men incostume, women with shawls over their scant attire, in a word, thewhole of the characters in the second act, who would shortly make theirappearance as masqeuraders in the ball at the Boule Noire. And at theend of the corridor became audible a shuffling of feet as these peopleclattered down the five wooden steps which led to the stage. As the bigClarisse went running by Simonne called to her, but she said she wouldbe back directly. And, indeed, she reappeared almost at once, shiveringin the thin tunic and scarf which she wore as Iris. 

"God bless me!" she said. "It isn't warm, and I've left my furs in mydressing room!"

Then as she stood toasting her legs in their warm rose-colored tights infront of the fireplace she resumed:

"The prince has arrived. "

"Oh!" cried the rest with the utmost curiosity. 

"Yes, that's why I ran down: I wanted to see. He's in the first stagebox to the right, the same he was in on Thursday. It's the third timehe's been this week, eh? That's Nana; well, she's in luck's way! I waswilling to wager he wouldn't come again. "

Simonne opened her lips to speak, but her remarks were drowned by afresh shout which arose close to the greenroom. In the passage thecallboy was yelling at the top of his shrill voice, "They've knocked!"

"Three times!" said Simonne when she was again able to speak. "It'sgetting exciting. You know, he won't go to her place; he takes her tohis. And it seems that he has to pay for it too!"

"Egad! It's a case of when one 'has to go out, '" muttered Prullierewickedly, and he got up to have a last look at the mirror as became ahandsome fellow whom the boxes adored. 

"They've knocked! They've knocked!" the callboy kept repeating intones that died gradually away in the distance as he passed through thevarious stories and corridors. 

Fontan thereupon, knowing how it had all gone off on the first occasionthe prince and Nana met, told the two women the whole story while theyin their turn crowded against him and laughed at the tops of theirvoices whenever he stooped to whisper certain details in their ears. OldBosc had never budged an inch--he was totally indifferent. That sortof thing no longer interested him now. He was stroking a greattortoise-shell cat which was lying curled up on the bench. He did soquite beautifully and ended by taking her in his arms with the tendergood nature becoming a worn-out monarch. The cat arched its back andthen, after a prolonged sniff at the big white beard, the gluey odor ofwhich doubtless disgusted her, she turned and, curling herself up, went to sleep again on the bench beside him. Bosc remained grave andabsorbed. 

"That's all right, but if I were you I should drink the champagne at therestaurant--its better there, " he said, suddenly addressing Fontan whenhe had finished his recital. 

"The curtain's up!" cried the callboy in cracked and long-drawn accents"The curtain's up! The curtain's up!"

The shout sounded for some moments, during which there had been a noiseof rapid footsteps. Through the suddenly opened door of the passage camea burst of music and a far-off murmur of voices, and then the doorshut to again and you could hear its dull thud as it wedged itself intoposition once more. 

A heavy, peaceful, atmosphere again pervaded the greenroom, as thoughthe place were situated a hundred leagues from the house where crowdswere applauding. Simonne and Clarisse were still on the topic of Nana. There was a girl who never hurried herself! Why, yesterday she had againcome on too late! But there was a silence, for a tall damsel had justcraned her head in at the door and, seeing that she had made a mistake, had departed to the other end of the passage. It was Satin. Wearing ahat and a small veil for the nonce she was affecting the manner of alady about to pay a call. 

"A pretty trollop!" muttered Prulliere, who had been coming across herfor a year past at the Cafe des Varietes. And at this Simonne told themhow Nana had recognized in Satin an old schoolmate, had taken a vastfancy to her and was now plaguing Bordenave to let her make a firstappearance on the stage. 

"How d'ye do?" said Fontan, shaking hands with Mignon and Fauchery, whonow came into the room. 

Old Bosc himself gave them the tips of his fingers while the two womenkissed Mignon. 

"A good house this evening?" queried Fauchery. 

"Oh, a splendid one!" replied Prulliere. "You should see 'em gaping. "

"I say, my little dears, " remarked Mignon, "it must be your turn!"

Oh, all in good time! They were only at the fourth scene as yet, butBosc got up in obedience to instinct, as became a rattling old actorwho felt that his cue was coming. At that very moment the callboy wasopening the door. 

"Monsieur Bosc!" he called. "Mademoiselle Simonne!"

Simonne flung a fur-lined pelisse briskly over her shoulders and wentout. Bosc, without hurrying at all, went and got his crown, which hesettled on his brow with a rap. Then dragging himself unsteadily alongin his greatcoat, he took his departure, grumbling and looking asannoyed as a man who has been rudely disturbed. 

"You were very amiable in your last notice, " continued Fontan, addressing Fauchery. "Only why do you say that comedians are vain?"

"Yes, my little man, why d'you say that?" shouted Mignon, bringing downhis huge hands on the journalist's slender shoulders with such force asalmost to double him up. 

Prulliere and Clarisse refrained from laughing aloud. For some time pastthe whole company had been deriving amusement from a comedy which wasgoing on in the wings. Mignon, rendered frantic by his wife's capriceand annoyed at the thought that this man Fauchery brought nothing but acertain doubtful notoriety to his household, had conceived the idea ofrevenging himself on the journalist by overwhelming him with tokens offriendship. Every evening, therefore, when he met him behind scenes hewould shower friendly slaps on his back and shoulders, as though fairlycarried away by an outburst of tenderness, and Fauchery, who was afrail, small man in comparison with such a giant, was fain to take theraps with a strained smile in order not to quarrel with Rose's husband. 

"Aha, my buck, you've insulted Fontan, " resumed Mignon, who was doinghis best to force the joke. "Stand on guard! One--two--got him right inthe middle of his chest!"

He lunged and struck the young man with such force that the latter grewvery pale and could not speak for some seconds. With a wink Clarisseshowed the others where Rose Mignon was standing on the threshold of thegreenroom. Rose had witnessed the scene, and she marched straight upto the journalist, as though she had failed to notice her husband and, standing on tiptoe, bare-armed and in baby costume, she held her face upto him with a caressing, infantine pout. 

"Good evening, baby, " said Fauchery, kissing her familiarly. 

Thus he indemnified himself. Mignon, however, did not seem to haveobserved this kiss, for everybody kissed his wife at the theater. Buthe laughed and gave the journalist a keen little look. The latter wouldassurely have to pay for Rose's bravado. 

In the passage the tightly shutting door opened and closed again, and atempest of applause was blown as far as the greenroom. Simonne came inafter her scene. 

"Oh, Father Bosc HAS just scored!" she cried. "The prince was writhingwith laughter and applauded with the rest as though he had been paid to. I say, do you know the big man sitting beside the prince in thestage box? A handsome man, with a very sedate expression and splendidwhiskers!"

"It's Count Muffat, " replied Fauchery. "I know that the prince, when hewas at the empress's the day before yesterday, invited him to dinner fortonight. He'll have corrupted him afterward!"

"So that's Count Muffat! We know his father-in-law, eh, Auguste?" saidRose, addressing her remark to Mignon. "You know the Marquis de Chouard, at whose place I went to sing? Well, he's in the house too. I noticedhim at the back of a box. There's an old boy for you!"

Prulliere, who had just put on his huge plume of feathers, turned roundand called her. 

"Hi, Rose! Let's go now!"

She ran after him, leaving her sentence unfinished. At that moment MmeBron, the portress of the theater, passed by the door with an immensebouquet in her arms. Simonne asked cheerfully if it was for her, butthe porter woman did not vouchsafe an answer and only pointed her chintoward Nana's dressing room at the end of the passage. Oh, that Nana!They were loading her with flowers! Then when Mme Bron returned shehanded a letter to Clarisse, who allowed a smothered oath to escape her. That beggar La Faloise again! There was a fellow who wouldn't let heralone! And when she learned the gentleman in question was waiting forher at the porter's lodge she shrieked:

"Tell him I'm coming down after this act. I'm going to catch him one onthe face. "

Fontan had rushed forward, shouting:

"Madame Bron, just listen. Please listen, Madame Bron. I want you tosend up six bottles of champagne between the acts. "

But the callboy had again made his appearance. He was out of breath, andin a singsong voice he called out:

"All to go on the stage! It's your turn, Monsieur Fontan. Make haste, make haste!"

"Yes, yes, I'm going, Father Barillot, " replied Fontan in a flurry. 

And he ran after Mme Bron and continued:

"You understand, eh? Six bottles of champagne in the greenroom betweenthe acts. It's my patron saint's day, and I'm standing the racket. "

Simonne and Clarisse had gone off with a great rustling of skirts. Everybody was swallowed up in the distance, and when the passage doorhad banged with its usual hollow sound a fresh hail shower was heardbeating against the windows in the now-silent greenroom. Barillot, asmall, pale-faced ancient, who for thirty years had been a servant inthe theater, had advanced familiarly toward Mignon and had presented hisopen snuffbox to him. This proffer of a pinch and its acceptance allowedhim a minute's rest in his interminable career up and down stairs andalong the dressing-room passage. He certainly had still to look up MmeNana, as he called her, but she was one of those who followed her ownsweet will and didn't care a pin for penalties. Why, if she chose to betoo late she was too late! But he stopped short and murmured in greatsurprise:

"Well, I never! She's ready; here she is! She must know that the princeis here. "

Indeed, Nana appeared in the corridor. She was dressed as a fish hag:her arms and face were plastered with white paint, and she had a coupleof red dabs under her eyes. Without entering the greenroom she contentedherself by nodding to Mignon and Fauchery. 

"How do? You're all right?"

Only Mignon shook her outstretched hand, and she hied royally onher way, followed by her dresser, who almost trod on her heels whilestooping to adjust the folds of her skirt. In the rear of the dressercame Satin, closing the procession and trying to look quite the lady, though she was already bored to death. 

"And Steiner?" asked Mignon sharply. 

"Monsieur Steiner has gone away to the Loiret, " said Barillot, preparingto return to the neighborhood of the stage. "I expect he's gone to buy acountry place in those parts. "

"Ah yes, I know, Nana's country place. "

Mignon had grown suddenly serious. Oh, that Steiner! He had promisedRose a fine house in the old days! Well, well, it wouldn't do to growangry with anybody. Here was a position that would have to be won again. From fireplace to console table Mignon paced, sunk in thought yet stillunconquered by circumstances. There was no one in the greenroom now saveFauchery and himself. The journalist was tired and had flung himselfback into the recesses of the big armchair. There he stayed withhalf-closed eyes and as quiet as quiet could be, while the other glanceddown at him as he passed. When they were alone Mignon scorned to slaphim at every turn. What good would it have done, since nobody would haveenjoyed the spectacle? He was far too disinterested to be personallyentertained by the farcical scenes in which he figured as a banteringhusband. Glad of this short-lived respite, Fauchery stretched his feetout languidly toward the fire and let his upturned eyes wander fromthe barometer to the clock. In the course of his march Mignon plantedhimself in front of Potier's bust, looked at it without seeming to seeit and then turned back to the window, outside which yawned the darklinggulf of the courtyard. The rain had ceased, and there was now a deepsilence in the room, which the fierce heat of the coke fire and theflare of the gas jets rendered still more oppressive. Not a sound camefrom the wings: the staircase and the passages were deadly still. 

That choking sensation of quiet, which behind the scenes immediatelyprecedes the end of an act, had begun to pervade the empty greenroom. Indeed, the place seemed to be drowsing off through very breathlessnessamid that faint murmur which the stage gives forth when the whole troupeare raising the deafening uproar of some grand finale. 

"Oh, the cows!" Bordenave suddenly shouted in his hoarse voice. 

He had only just come up, and he was already howling complaints abouttwo chorus girls who had nearly fallen flat on the stage because theywere playing the fool together. When his eye lit on Mignon and Faucheryhe called them; he wanted to show them something. The prince had justnotified a desire to compliment Nana in her dressing room during thenext interval. But as he was leading them into the wings the stagemanager passed. 

"Just you find those hags Fernande and Maria!" cried Bordenave savagely. 

Then calming down and endeavoring to assume the dignified expressionworn by "heavy fathers, " he wiped his face with his pocket handkerchiefand added:

"I am now going to receive His Highness. "

The curtain fell amid a long-drawn salvo of applause. Then across thetwilight stage, which was no longer lit up by the footlights, therefollowed a disorderly retreat. Actors and supers and chorus made hasteto get back to their dressing rooms while the sceneshifters rapidlychanged the scenery. Simonne and Clarisse, however, had remained "at thetop, " talking together in whispers. On the stage, in an interval betweentheir lines, they had just settled a little matter. Clarisse, afterviewing the thing in every light, found she preferred not to see LaFaloise, who could never decide to leave her for Gaga, and so Simonnewas simply to go and explain that a woman ought not to be palled up toin that fashion! At last she agreed to undertake the mission. 

Then Simonne, in her theatrical laundress's attire but with furs overher shoulders, ran down the greasy steps of the narrow, winding stairswhich led between damp walls to the porter's lodge. This lodge, situatedbetween the actors' staircase and that of the management, was shut into right and left by large glass partitions and resembled a hugetransparent lantern in which two gas jets were flaring. 

There was a set of pigeonholes in the place in which were piled lettersand newspapers, while on the table various bouquets lay awaiting theirrecipients in close proximity to neglected heaps of dirty plates andto an old pair of stays, the eyelets of which the portress was busymending. And in the middle of this untidy, ill-kept storeroom sat fourfashionable, white-gloved society men. They occupied as many ancientstraw-bottomed chairs and, with an expression at once patient andsubmissive, kept sharply turning their heads in Mme Bron's directionevery time she came down from the theater overhead, for on suchoccasions she was the bearer of replies. Indeed, she had but nowhanded a note to a young man who had hurried out to open it beneath thegaslight in the vestibule, where he had grown slightly pale onreading the classic phrase--how often had others read it in that veryplace!--"Impossible tonight, my dearie! I'm booked!" La Faloise sat onone of these chairs at the back of the room, between the table and thestove. He seemed bent on passing the evening there, and yet he was notquite happy. Indeed, he kept tucking up his long legs in his endeavorsto escape from a whole litter of black kittens who were gamboling wildlyround them while the mother cat sat bolt upright, staring at him withyellow eyes. 

"Ah, it's you, Mademoiselle Simonne! What can I do for you?" asked theportress. 

Simonne begged her to send La Faloise out to her. But Mme Bron wasunable to comply with her wishes all at once. Under the stairs in a sortof deep cupboard she kept a little bar, whither the supers were wont todescend for drinks between the acts, and seeing that just at that momentthere were five or six tall lubbers there who, still dressed as BouleNoire masqueraders, were dying of thirst and in a great hurry, she losther head a bit. A gas jet was flaring in the cupboard, within which itwas possible to descry a tin-covered table and some shelves garnishedwith half-emptied bottles. Whenever the door of this coalhole was openeda violent whiff of alcohol mingled with the scent of stale cooking inthe lodge, as well as with the penetrating scent of the flowers upon thetable. 

"Well now, " continued the portress when she had served the supers, "isit the little dark chap out there you want?"

"No, no; don't be silly!" said Simonne. "It's the lanky one by the sideof the stove. Your cat's sniffing at his trouser legs!"

And with that she carried La Faloise off into the lobby, while theother gentlemen once more resigned themselves to their fate and tosemisuffocation and the masqueraders drank on the stairs and indulged inrough horseplay and guttural drunken jests. 

On the stage above Bordenave was wild with the sceneshifters, who seemednever to have done changing scenes. They appeared to be acting ofset purpose--the prince would certainly have some set piece or othertumbling on his head. 

"Up with it! Up with it!" shouted the foreman. 

At length the canvas at the back of the stage was raised into position, and the stage was clear. Mignon, who had kept his eye on Fauchery, seized this opportunity in order to start his pummeling matches again. He hugged him in his long arms and cried:

"Oh, take care! That mast just missed crushing you!"

And he carried him off and shook him before setting him down again. Inview of the sceneshifters' exaggerated mirth, Fauchery grew white. His lips trembled, and he was ready to flare up in anger while Mignon, shamming good nature, was clapping him on the shoulder with suchaffectionate violence as nearly to pulverize him. 

"I value your health, I do!" he kept repeating. "Egad! I should be in apretty pickle if anything serious happened to you!"

But just then a whisper ran through their midst: "The prince! Theprince!" And everybody turned and looked at the little door which openedout of the main body of the house. At first nothing was visible saveBordenave's round back and beefy neck, which bobbed down and archedup in a series of obsequious obeisances. Then the prince made hisappearance. Largely and strongly built, light of beard and rosy of hue, he was not lacking in the kind of distinction peculiar to a sturdy manof pleasure, the square contours of whose limbs are clearly defined bythe irreproachable cut of a frock coat. Behind him walked Count Muffatand the Marquis de Chouard, but this particular corner of the theaterbeing dark, the group were lost to view amid huge moving shadows. 

In order fittingly to address the son of a queen, who would somedayoccupy a throne, Bordenave had assumed the tone of a man exhibitinga bear in the street. In a voice tremulous with false emotion he keptrepeating:

"If His Highness will have the goodness to follow me--would His Highnessdeign to come this way? His Highness will take care!"

The prince did not hurry in the least. On the contrary, he was greatlyinterested and kept pausing in order to look at the sceneshifters'maneuvers. A batten had just been lowered, and the group of gaslightshigh up among its iron crossbars illuminated the stage with a wide beamof light. Muffat, who had never yet been behind scenes at a theater, waseven more astonished than the rest. An uneasy feeling of mingled fearand vague repugnance took possession of him. He looked up into theheights above him, where more battens, the gas jets on which wereburning low, gleamed like galaxies of little bluish stars amid a chaosof iron rods, connecting lines of all sizes, hanging stages and canvasesspread out in space, like huge cloths hung out to dry. 

"Lower away!" shouted the foreman unexpectedly. 

And the prince himself had to warn the count, for a canvas wasdescending. They were setting the scenery for the third act, which wasthe grotto on Mount Etna. Men were busy planting masts in the sockets, while others went and took frames which were leaning against the wallsof the stage and proceeded to lash them with strong cords to the polesalready in position. At the back of the stage, with a view to producingthe bright rays thrown by Vulcan's glowing forge, a stand had beenfixed by a limelight man, who was now lighting various burners under redglasses. The scene was one of confusion, verging to all appearances onabsolute chaos, but every little move had been prearranged. Nay, amidall the scurry the whistle blower even took a few turns, stepping shortas he did so, in order to rest his legs. 

"His Highness overwhelms me, " said Bordenave, still bowing low. "Thetheater is not large, but we do what we can. Now if His Highness deignsto follow me--"

Count Muffat was already making for the dressing-room passage. Thereally sharp downward slope of the stage had surprised him disagreeably, and he owed no small part of his present anxiety to a feeling that itsboards were moving under his feet. Through the open sockets gas wasdescried burning in the "dock. " Human voices and blasts of air, as froma vault, came up thence, and, looking down into the depths of gloom, onebecame aware of a whole subterranean existence. But just as the countwas going up the stage a small incident occurred to stop him. Two littlewomen, dressed for the third act, were chatting by the peephole in thecurtain. One of them, straining forward and widening the hole with herfingers in order the better to observe things, was scanning the housebeyond. 

"I see him, " said she sharply. "Oh, what a mug!"

Horrified, Bordenave had much ado not to give her a kick. But the princesmiled and looked pleased and excited by the remark. He gazed warmly atthe little woman who did not care a button for His Highness, and she, onher part, laughed unblushingly. Bordenave, however, persuaded the princeto follow him. Muffat was beginning to perspire; he had taken his hatoff. What inconvenienced him most was the stuffy, dense, overheated airof the place with its strong, haunting smell, a smell peculiar to thispart of a theater, and, as such, compact of the reek of gas, of the glueused in the manufacture of the scenery, of dirty dark nooks and cornersand of questionably clean chorus girls. In the passage the air was stillmore suffocating, and one seemed to breathe a poisoned atmosphere, whichwas occasionally relieved by the acid scents of toilet waters and theperfumes of various soaps emanating from the dressing rooms. The countlifted his eyes as he passed and glanced up the staircase, for he waswell-nigh startled by the keen flood of light and warmth which floweddown upon his back and shoulders. High up above him there was a clickingof ewers and basins, a sound of laughter and of people calling toone another, a banging of doors, which in their continual opening andshutting allowed an odor of womankind to escape--a musky scent of oilsand essences mingling with the natural pungency exhaled from humantresses. He did not stop. Nay, he hastened his walk: he almost ran, hisskin tingling with the breath of that fiery approach to a world he knewnothing of. 

"A theater's a curious sight, eh?" said the Marquis de Chouard with theenchanted expression of a man who once more finds himself amid familiarsurroundings. 

But Bordenave had at length reached Nana's dressing room at the end ofthe passage. He quietly turned the door handle; then, cringing again:

"If His Highness will have the goodness to enter--"

They heard the cry of a startled woman and caught sight of Nana as, stripped to the waist, she slipped behind a curtain while her dresser, who had been in the act of drying her, stood, towel in air, before them. 

"Oh, it IS silly to come in that way!" cried Nana from her hiding place. "Don't come in; you see you mustn't come in!"

Bordenave did not seem to relish this sudden flight. 

"Do stay where you were, my dear. Why, it doesn't matter, " he said. "It's His Highness. Come, come, don't be childish. "

And when she still refused to make her appearance--for she was startledas yet, though she had begun to laugh--he added in peevish, paternaltones:

"Good heavens, these gentlemen know perfectly well what a woman lookslike. They won't eat you. "

"I'm not so sure of that, " said the prince wittily. 

With that the whole company began laughing in an exaggerated manner inorder to pay him proper court. 

"An exquisitely witty speech--an altogether Parisian speech, " asBordenave remarked. 

Nana vouchsafed no further reply, but the curtain began moving. Doubtless she was making up her mind. Then Count Muffat, with glowingcheeks, began to take stock of the dressing room. It was a square roomwith a very low ceiling, and it was entirely hung with a light-coloredHavana stuff. A curtain of the same material depended from a copperrod and formed a sort of recess at the end of the room, while two largewindows opened on the courtyard of the theater and were faced, at adistance of three yards at most, by a leprous-looking wall against whichthe panes cast squares of yellow light amid the surrounding darkness. A large dressing glass faced a white marble toilet table, which wasgarnished with a disorderly array of flasks and glass boxes containingoils, essences and powders. The count went up to the dressing glassand discovered that he was looking very flushed and had small drops ofperspiration on his forehead. He dropped his eyes and came and took upa position in front of the toilet table, where the basin, full of soapywater, the small, scattered, ivory toilet utensils and the damp sponges, appeared for some moments to absorb his attention. The feeling ofdizziness which he had experienced when he first visited Nana in theBoulevard Haussmann once more overcame him. He felt the thick carpetsoften under foot, and the gasjets burning by the dressing table and bythe glass seemed to shoot whistling flames about his temples. For onemoment, being afraid of fainting away under the influence of thosefeminine odors which he now re-encountered, intensified by the heatunder the low-pitched ceiling, he sat down on the edge of a softlypadded divan between the two windows. But he got up again almostdirectly and, returning to the dressing table, seemed to gaze withvacant eyes into space, for he was thinking of a bouquet of tuberoseswhich had once faded in his bedroom and had nearly killed him in theirdeath. When tuberoses are turning brown they have a human smell. 

"Make haste!" Bordenave whispered, putting his head in behind thecurtain. 

The prince, however, was listening complaisantly to the Marquis deChouard, who had taken up a hare's-foot on the dressing table and hadbegun explaining the way grease paint is put on. In a corner of the roomSatin, with her pure, virginal face, was scanning the gentlemen keenly, while the dresser, Mme Jules by name, was getting ready Venus' tightsand tunic. Mme Jules was a woman of no age. She had the parchment skinand changeless features peculiar to old maids whom no one ever knewin their younger years. She had indeed shriveled up in the burningatmosphere of the dressing rooms and amid the most famous thighs andbosoms in all Paris. She wore everlastingly a faded black dress, and onher flat and sexless chest a perfect forest of pins clustered above thespot where her heart should have been. 

"I beg your pardon, gentlemen, " said Nana, drawing aside the curtain, "but you took me by surprise. "

They all turned round. She had not clothed herself at all, had, in fact, only buttoned on a little pair of linen stays which half revealed herbosom. When the gentlemen had put her to flight she had scarcely begunundressing and was rapidly taking off her fishwife's costume. Throughthe opening in her drawers behind a corner of her shift was even nowvisible. There she stood, bare-armed, bare-shouldered, bare-breasted, in all the adorable glory of her youth and plump, fair beauty, but shestill held the curtain with one hand, as though ready to draw it toagain upon the slightest provocation. 

"Yes, you took me by surprise! I never shall dare--" she stammeredin pretty, mock confusion, while rosy blushes crossed her neck andshoulders and smiles of embarrassment played about her lips. 

"Oh, don't apologize, " cried Bordenave, "since these gentlemen approveof your good looks!"

But she still tried the hesitating, innocent, girlish game, and, shivering as though someone were tickling her, she continued:

"His Highness does me too great an honor. I beg His Highness will excusemy receiving him thus--"

"It is I who am importunate, " said the prince, "but, madame, I could notresist the desire of complimenting you. "

Thereupon, in order to reach her dressing table, she walked very quietlyand just as she was through the midst of the gentlemen, who made way forher to pass. 

She had strongly marked hips, which filled her drawers out roundly, while with swelling bosom she still continued bowing and smiling herdelicate little smile. Suddenly she seemed to recognize Count Muffat, and she extended her hand to him as an old friend. Then she scolded himfor not having come to her supper party. His Highness deigned to chaffMuffat about this, and the latter stammered and thrilled again at thethought that for one second he had held in his own feverish clasp alittle fresh and perfumed hand. The count had dined excellently at theprince's, who, indeed, was a heroic eater and drinker. Both of them wereeven a little intoxicated, but they behaved very creditably. To hide thecommotion within him Muffat could only remark about the heat. 

"Good heavens, how hot it is here!" he said. "How do you manage to livein such a temperature, madame?"

And conversation was about to ensue on this topic when noisy voices wereheard at the dressing-room door. Bordenave drew back the slide over agrated peephole of the kind used in convents. Fontan was outside withPrulliere and Bosc, and all three had bottles under their arms and theirhands full of glasses. He began knocking and shouting out that it washis patron saint's day and that he was standing champagne round. Nanaconsulted the prince with a glance. Eh! Oh dear, yes! His Highness didnot want to be in anyone's way; he would be only too happy! But withoutwaiting for permission Fontan came in, repeating in baby accents:

"Me not a cad, me pay for champagne!"

Then all of a sudden he became aware of the prince's presence of whichhe had been totally ignorant. He stopped short and, assuming an air offarcical solemnity, announced:

"King Dagobert is in the corridor and is desirous of drinking the healthof His Royal Highness. "

The prince having made answer with a smile, Fontan's sally was votedcharming. But the dressing room was too small to accommodate everybody, and it became necessary to crowd up anyhow, Satin and Mme Jules standingback against the curtain at the end and the men clustering closely roundthe half-naked Nana. The three actors still had on the costumes they hadbeen wearing in the second act, and while Prulliere took off his Alpineadmiral's cocked hat, the huge plume of which would have knocked theceiling, Bosc, in his purple cloak and tinware crown, steadied himselfon his tipsy old legs and greeted the prince as became a monarchreceiving the son of a powerful neighbor. The glasses were filled, andthe company began clinking them together. 

"I drink to Your Highness!" said ancient Bosc royally. 

"To the army!" added Prulliere. 

"To Venus!" cried Fontan. 

The prince complaisantly poised his glass, waited quietly, bowed thriceand murmured:

"Madame! Admiral! Your Majesty!"

Then he drank it off. Count Muffat and the Marquis de Chouard hadfollowed his example. There was no more jesting now--the company were atcourt. Actual life was prolonged in the life of the theater, and a sortof solemn farce was enacted under the hot flare of the gas. Nana, quiteforgetting that she was in her drawers and that a corner of her shiftstuck out behind, became the great lady, the queen of love, in act toopen her most private palace chambers to state dignitaries. In everysentence she used the words "Royal Highness" and, bowing with the utmostconviction, treated the masqueraders, Bosc and Prulliere, as if theone were a sovereign and the other his attendant minister. And no onedreamed of smiling at this strange contrast, this real prince, this heirto a throne, drinking a petty actor's champagne and taking his ease amida carnival of gods, a masquerade of royalty, in the society of dressersand courtesans, shabby players and showmen of venal beauty. Bordenavewas simply ravished by the dramatic aspects of the scene and begandreaming of the receipts which would have accrued had His Highness onlyconsented thus to appear in the second act of the Blonde Venus. 

"I say, shall we have our little women down?" he cried, becomingfamiliar. 

Nana would not hear of it. But notwithstanding this, she was givingway herself. Fontan attracted her with his comic make-up. She brushedagainst him and, eying him as a woman in the family way might do whenshe fancies some unpleasant kind of food, she suddenly became extremelyfamiliar:

"Now then, fill up again, ye great brute!"

Fontan charged the glasses afresh, and the company drank, repeating thesame toasts. 

"To His Highness!"

"To the army!"

"To Venus!"

But with that Nana made a sign and obtained silence. She raised herglass and cried:

"No, no! To Fontan! It's Fontan's day; to Fontan! To Fontan!"

Then they clinked glasses a third time and drank Fontan with all thehonors. The prince, who had noticed the young woman devouring the actorwith her eyes, saluted him with a "Monsieur Fontan, I drink to yoursuccess!" This he said with his customary courtesy. 

But meanwhile the tail of his highness's frock coat was sweeping themarble of the dressing table. The place, indeed, was like an alcove ornarrow bathroom, full as it was of the steam of hot water and spongesand of the strong scent of essences which mingled with the tartish, intoxicating fumes of the champagne. The prince and Count Muffat, between whom Nana was wedged, had to lift up their hands so as not tobrush against her hips or her breast with every little movement. Andthere stood Mme Jules, waiting, cool and rigid as ever, while Satin, marveling in the depths of her vicious soul to see a prince and twogentlemen in black coats going after a naked woman in the society ofdressed-up actors, secretly concluded that fashionable people were notso very particular after all. 

But Father Barillot's tinkling bell approached along the passage. At thedoor of the dressing room he stood amazed when he caught sight of thethree actors still clad in the costumes which they had worn in thesecond act. 

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, " he stammered, "do please make haste. They'vejust rung the bell in the public foyer. "

"Bah, the public will have to wait!" said Bordenave placidly. 

However, as the bottles were now empty, the comedians went upstairs todress after yet another interchange of civilities. Bosc, having dippedhis beard in the champagne, had taken it off, and under his venerabledisguise the drunkard had suddenly reappeared. His was the haggard, empurpled face of the old actor who has taken to drink. At the foot ofthe stairs he was heard remarking to Fontan in his boozy voice:

"I pulverized him, eh?"

He was alluding to the prince. 

In Nana's dressing room none now remained save His Highness, the countand the marquis. Bordenave had withdrawn with Barillot, whom he advisednot to knock without first letting Madame know. 

"You will excuse me, gentlemen?" asked Nana, again setting to work tomake up her arms and face, of which she was now particularly careful, owing to her nude appearance in the third act. 

The prince seated himself by the Marquis de Chouard on the divan, andCount Muffat alone remained standing. In that suffocating heat the twoglasses of champagne they had drunk had increased their intoxication. Satin, when she saw the gentlemen thus closeting themselves with herfriend, had deemed it discreet to vanish behind the curtain, whereshe sat waiting on a trunk, much annoyed at being compelled to remainmotionless, while Mme Jules came and went quietly without word or look. 

"You sang your numbers marvelously, " said the prince. 

And with that they began a conversation, but their sentences were shortand their pauses frequent. Nana, indeed, was not always able to reply. After rubbing cold cream over her arms and face with the palm of herhand she laid on the grease paint with the corner of a towel. For onesecond only she ceased looking in the glass and smilingly stole a glanceat the prince. 

"His Highness is spoiling me, " she murmured without putting down thegrease paint. 

Her task was a complicated one, and the Marquis de Chouard followed itwith an expression of devout enjoyment. He spoke in his turn. 

"Could not the band accompany you more softly?" he said. "It drowns yourvoice, and that's an unpardonable crime. "

This time Nana did not turn round. She had taken up the hare's-foot andwas lightly manipulating it. All her attention was concentrated on thisaction, and she bent forward over her toilet table so very far that thewhite round contour of her drawers and the little patch of chemise stoodout with the unwonted tension. But she was anxious to prove thatshe appreciated the old man's compliment and therefore made a littleswinging movement with her hips. 

Silence reigned. Mme Jules had noticed a tear in the right leg of herdrawers. She took a pin from over her heart and for a second or so knelton the ground, busily at work about Nana's leg, while the young woman, without seeming to notice her presence, applied the rice powder, takingextreme pains as she did so, to avoid putting any on the upper part ofher cheeks. But when the prince remarked that if she were to comeand sing in London all England would want to applaud her, she laughedamiably and turned round for a moment with her left cheek looking verywhite amid a perfect cloud of powder. Then she became suddenly serious, for she had come to the operation of rouging. And with her face oncemore close to the mirror, she dipped her finger in a jar and beganapplying the rouge below her eyes and gently spreading it back towardher temples. The gentlemen maintained a respectful silence. 

Count Muffat, indeed, had not yet opened his lips. He was thinkingperforce of his own youth. The bedroom of his childish days had beenquite cold, and later, when he had reached the age of sixteen and wouldgive his mother a good-night kiss every evening, he used to carry theicy feeling of the embrace into the world of dreams. One day in passinga half-open door he had caught sight of a maidservant washing herself, and that was the solitary recollection which had in any way troubledhis peace of mind from the days of puberty till the time of marriage. Afterward he had found his wife strictly obedient to her conjugal dutiesbut had himself felt a species of religious dislike to them. He hadgrown to man's estate and was now aging, in ignorance of the flesh, inthe humble observance of rigid devotional practices and in obedience toa rule of life full of precepts and moral laws. And now suddenly he wasdropped down in this actress's dressing room in the presence of thisundraped courtesan. 

He, who had never seen the Countess Muffat putting on her garters, waswitnessing, amid that wild disarray of jars and basins and that strong, sweet perfume, the intimate details of a woman's toilet. His wholebeing was in turmoil; he was terrified by the stealthy, all-pervadinginfluence which for some time past Nana's presence had been exercisingover him, and he recalled to mind the pious accounts of diabolicpossession which had amused his early years. He was a believer in thedevil, and, in a confused kind of way, Nana was he, with her laughterand her bosom and her hips, which seemed swollen with many vices. Buthe promised himself that he would be strong--nay, he would know how todefend himself. 

"Well then, it's agreed, " said the prince, lounging quite comfortably onthe divan. "You will come to London next year, and we shall receive youso cordially that you will never return to France again. Ah, my dearCount, you don't value your pretty women enough. We shall take them allfrom you!"

"That won't make much odds to him, " murmured the Marquis de Chouardwickedly, for he occasionally said a risky thing among friends. "Thecount is virtue itself. "

Hearing his virtue mentioned, Nana looked at him so comically thatMuffat felt a keen twinge of annoyance. But directly afterward hewas surprised and angry with himself. Why, in the presence of thiscourtesan, should the idea of being virtuous embarrass him? He couldhave struck her. But in attempting to take up a brush Nana had justlet it drop on the ground, and as she stooped to pick it up he rushedforward. Their breath mingled for one moment, and the loosened tressesof Venus flowed over his hands. But remorse mingled with his enjoyment, a kind of enjoyment, moreover, peculiar to good Catholics, whom the fearof hell torments in the midst of their sin. 

At this moment Father Barillot's voice was heard outside the door. 

"May I give the knocks, madame? The house is growing impatient. "

"All in good time, " answered Nana quietly. 

She had dipped her paint brush in a pot of kohl, and with the pointof her nose close to the glass and her left eye closed she passed itdelicately along between her eyelashes. Muffat stood behind her, lookingon. He saw her reflection in the mirror, with her rounded shoulders andher bosom half hidden by a rosy shadow. And despite all his endeavors hecould not turn away his gaze from that face so merry with dimples and soworn with desire, which the closed eye rendered more seductive. When sheshut her right eye and passed the brush along it he understood that hebelonged to her. 

"They are stamping their feet, madame, " the callboy once more cried. "They'll end by smashing the seats. May I give the knocks?"

"Oh, bother!" said Nana impatiently. "Knock away; I don't care! If I'mnot ready, well, they'll have to wait for me!"

She grew calm again and, turning to the gentlemen, added with a smile:

"It's true: we've only got a minute left for our talk. "

Her face and arms were now finished, and with her fingers she put twolarge dabs of carmine on her lips. Count Muffat felt more excited thanever. He was ravished by the perverse transformation wrought by powdersand paints and filled by a lawless yearning for those young paintedcharms, for the too-red mouth and the too-white face and the exaggeratedeyes, ringed round with black and burning and dying for very love. Meanwhile Nana went behind the curtain for a second or two in orderto take off her drawers and slip on Venus' tights. After which, withtranquil immodesty, she came out and undid her little linen stays andheld out her arms to Mme Jules, who drew the short-sleeved tunic overthem. 

"Make haste; they're growing angry!" she muttered. 

The prince with half-closed eyes marked the swelling lines of her bosomwith an air of connoisseurship, while the Marquis de Chouard wagged hishead involuntarily. Muffat gazed at the carpet in order not to see anymore. At length Venus, with only her gauze veil over her shoulders, wasready to go on the stage. Mme Jules, with vacant, unconcerned eyes andan expression suggestive of a little elderly wooden doll, still keptcircling round her. With brisk movements she took pins out of theinexhaustible pincushion over her heart and pinned up Venus' tunic, butas she ran over all those plump nude charms with her shriveled hands, nothing was suggested to her. She was as one whom her sex does notconcern. 

"There!" said the young woman, taking a final look at herself in themirror. 

Bordenave was back again. He was anxious and said the third act hadbegun. 

"Very well! I'm coming, " replied Nana. "Here's a pretty fuss! Why, it'susually I that waits for the others. "

The gentlemen left the dressing room, but they did not say good-by, forthe prince had expressed a desire to assist behind the scenes at theperformance of the third act. Left alone, Nana seemed greatly surprisedand looked round her in all directions. 

"Where can she be?" she queried. 

She was searching for Satin. When she had found her again, waiting onher trunk behind the curtain, Satin quietly replied:

"Certainly I didn't want to be in your way with all those men there!"

And she added further that she was going now. But Nana held her back. What a silly girl she was! Now that Bordenave had agreed to take heron! Why, the bargain was to be struck after the play was over! Satinhesitated. There were too many bothers; she was out of her element!Nevertheless, she stayed. 

As the prince was coming down the little wooden staircase a strangesound of smothered oaths and stamping, scuffling feet became audible onthe other side of the theater. The actors waiting for their cues werebeing scared by quite a serious episode. For some seconds past Mignonhad been renewing his jokes and smothering Fauchery with caresses. He had at last invented a little game of a novel kind and had begunflicking the other's nose in order, as he phrased it, to keep the fliesoff him. This kind of game naturally diverted the actors to any extent. 

But success had suddenly thrown Mignon off his balance. He had launchedforth into extravagant courses and had given the journalist a box on theear, an actual, a vigorous, box on the ear. This time he had gonetoo far: in the presence of so many spectators it was impossible forFauchery to pocket such a blow with laughing equanimity. Whereuponthe two men had desisted from their farce, had sprung at one another'sthroats, their faces livid with hate, and were now rolling over and overbehind a set of side lights, pounding away at each other as though theyweren't breakable. 

"Monsieur Bordenave, Monsieur Bordenave!" said the stage manager, comingup in a terrible flutter. 

Bordenave made his excuses to the prince and followed him. When herecognized Fauchery and Mignon in the men on the floor he gave vent toan expression of annoyance. They had chosen a nice time, certainly, withHis Highness on the other side of the scenery and all that houseful ofpeople who might have overheard the row! To make matters worse, RoseMignon arrived out of breath at the very moment she was due on thestage. Vulcan, indeed, was giving her the cue, but Rose stood rooted tothe ground, marveling at sight of her husband and her lover as they laywallowing at her feet, strangling one another, kicking, tearing theirhair out and whitening their coats with dust. They barred the way. Asceneshifter had even stopped Fauchery's hat just when the devilishthing was going to bound onto the stage in the middle of the struggle. Meanwhile Vulcan, who had been gagging away to amuse the audience, gaveRose her cue a second time. But she stood motionless, still gazing atthe two men. 

"Oh, don't look at THEM!" Bordenave furiously whispered to her. "Go onthe stage; go on, do! It's no business of yours! Why, you're missingyour cue!"

And with a push from the manager, Rose stepped over the prostrate bodiesand found herself in the flare of the footlights and in the presence ofthe audience. She had quite failed to understand why they were fightingon the floor behind her. Trembling from head to foot and with a hummingin her ears, she came down to the footlights, Diana's sweet, amoroussmile on her lips, and attacked the opening lines of her duet with sofeeling a voice that the public gave her a veritable ovation. 

Behind the scenery she could hear the dull thuds caused by the two men. They had rolled down to the wings, but fortunately the music covered thenoise made by their feet as they kicked against them. 

"By God!" yelled Bordenave in exasperation when at last he had succeededin separating them. "Why couldn't you fight at home? You know as well asI do that I don't like this sort of thing. You, Mignon, you'll do me thepleasure of staying over here on the prompt side, and you, Fauchery, if you leave the O. P. Side I'll chuck you out of the theater. Youunderstand, eh? Prompt side and O. P. Side or I forbid Rose to bring youhere at all. "

When he returned to the prince's presence the latter asked what was thematter. 

"Oh, nothing at all, " he murmured quietly. 

Nana was standing wrapped in furs, talking to these gentlemen whileawaiting her cue. As Count Muffat was coming up in order to peep betweentwo of the wings at the stage, he understood from a sign made him by thestage manager that he was to step softly. Drowsy warmth was streamingdown from the flies, and in the wings, which were lit by vivid patchesof light, only a few people remained, talking in low voices or makingoff on tiptoe. The gasman was at his post amid an intricate arrangementof cocks; a fireman, leaning against the side lights, was craningforward, trying to catch a glimpse of things, while on his seat, highup, the curtain man was watching with resigned expression, careless ofthe play, constantly on the alert for the bell to ring him to his dutyamong the ropes. And amid the close air and the shuffling of feet andthe sound of whispering, the voices of the actors on the stage soundedstrange, deadened, surprisingly discordant. Farther off again, above theconfused noises of the band, a vast breathing sound was audible. It wasthe breath of the house, which sometimes swelled up till it burst invague rumors, in laughter, in applause. Though invisible, the presenceof the public could be felt, even in the silences. 

"There's something open, " said Nana sharply, and with that she tightenedthe folds of her fur cloak. "Do look, Barillot. I bet they've justopened a window. Why, one might catch one's death of cold here!"

Barillot swore that he had closed every window himself but suggestedthat possibly there were broken panes about. The actors were alwayscomplaining of drafts. Through the heavy warmth of that gaslit regionblasts of cold air were constantly passing--it was a regular influenzatrap, as Fontan phrased it. 

"I should like to see YOU in a low-cut dress, " continued Nana, growingannoyed. 

"Hush!" murmured Bordenave. 

On the stage Rose rendered a phrase in her duet so cleverly that thestalls burst into universal applause. Nana was silent at this, and herface grew grave. Meanwhile the count was venturing down a passage whenBarillot stopped him and said he would make a discovery there. Indeed, he obtained an oblique back view of the scenery and of the wings whichhad been strengthened, as it were, by a thick layer of old posters. Thenhe caught sight of a corner of the stage, of the Etna cave hollowedout in a silver mine and of Vulcan's forge in the background. Battens, lowered from above, lit up a sparkling substance which had been laid onwith large dabs of the brush. Side lights with red glasses and blue wereso placed as to produce the appearance of a fiery brazier, while on thefloor of the stage, in the far background, long lines of gaslight hadbeen laid down in order to throw a wall of dark rocks into sharp relief. Hard by on a gentle, "practicable" incline, amid little points of lightresembling the illumination lamps scattered about in the grass on thenight of a public holiday, old Mme Drouard, who played Juno, was sittingdazed and sleepy, waiting for her cue. 

Presently there was a commotion, for Simonne, while listening to a storyClarisse was telling her, cried out:

"My! It's the Tricon!"

It was indeed the Tricon, wearing the same old curls and looking as likea litigious great lady as ever. 

When she saw Nana she went straight up to her. 

"No, " said the latter after some rapid phrases had been exchanged, "notnow. " The old lady looked grave. Just then Prulliere passed by and shookhands with her, while two little chorus girls stood gazing at her withlooks of deep emotion. For a moment she seemed to hesitate. Then shebeckoned to Simonne, and the rapid exchange of sentences began again. 

"Yes, " said Simonne at last. "In half an hour. "

But as she was going upstairs again to her dressing room, Mme Bron, who was once more going the rounds with letters, presented one to her. Bordenave lowered his voice and furiously reproached the portress forhaving allowed the Tricon to come in. That woman! And on such an eveningof all others! It made him so angry because His Highness was there! MmeBron, who had been thirty years in the theater, replied quite sourly. How was she to know? she asked. The Tricon did business with all theladies--M. Le Directeur had met her a score of times without makingremarks. And while Bordenave was muttering oaths the Tricon stoodquietly by, scrutinizing the prince as became a woman who weighs a manat a glance. A smile lit up her yellow face. Presently she paced slowlyoff through the crowd of deeply deferential little women. 

"Immediately, eh?" she queried, turning round again to Simonne. 

Simonne seemed much worried. The letter was from a young man to whom shehad engaged herself for that evening. She gave Mme Bron a scribbled notein which were the words, "Impossible tonight, darling--I'm booked. " Butshe was still apprehensive; the young man might possibly wait for her inspite of everything. As she was not playing in the third act, she had amind to be off at once and accordingly begged Clarisse to go and see ifthe man were there. Clarisse was only due on the stage toward the end ofthe act, and so she went downstairs while Simonne ran up for a minute totheir common dressing room. 

In Mme Bron's drinking bar downstairs a super, who was charged with thepart of Pluto, was drinking in solitude amid the folds of a great redrobe diapered with golden flames. The little business plied by the goodportress must have been progressing finely, for the cellarlike holeunder the stairs was wet with emptied heeltaps and water. Clarissepicked up the tunic of Iris, which was dragging over the greasy stepsbehind her, but she halted prudently at the turn in the stairs and wascontent simply to crane forward and peer into the lodge. She certainlyhad been quick to scent things out! Just fancy! That idiot La Faloisewas still there, sitting on the same old chair between the table and thestove! He had made pretense of sneaking off in front of Simonne andhad returned after her departure. For the matter of that, the lodge wasstill full of gentlemen who sat there gloved, elegant, submissive andpatient as ever. They were all waiting and viewing each other gravelyas they waited. On the table there were now only some dirty plates, Mme Bron having recently distributed the last of the bouquets. A singlefallen rose was withering on the floor in the neighborhood of the blackcat, who had lain down and curled herself up while the kittens ran wildraces and danced fierce gallops among the gentlemen's legs. Clarisse wasmomentarily inclined to turn La Faloise out. The idiot wasn't fond ofanimals, and that put the finishing touch to him! He was busy drawing inhis legs because the cat was there, and he didn't want to touch her. 

"He'll nip you; take care!" said Pluto, who was a joker, as he wentupstairs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

After that Clarisse gave up the idea of hauling La Faloise over thecoals. She had seen Mme Bron giving the letter to Simonne's youngman, and he had gone out to read it under the gas light in the lobby. "Impossible tonight, darling--I'm booked. " And with that he hadpeaceably departed, as one who was doubtless used to the formula. He, at any rate, knew how to conduct himself! Not so the others, the fellowswho sat there doggedly on Mme Bron's battered straw-bottomed chairsunder the great glazed lantern, where the heat was enough to roast youand there was an unpleasant odor. What a lot of men it must have held!Clarisse went upstairs again in disgust, crossed over behind scenes andnimbly mounted three flights of steps which led to the dressing rooms, in order to bring Simonne her reply. 

Downstairs the prince had withdrawn from the rest and stood talking toNana. He never left her; he stood brooding over her through half-shuteyelids. Nana did not look at him but, smiling, nodded yes. Suddenly, however, Count Muffat obeyed an overmastering impulse, and leavingBordenave, who was explaining to him the working of the rollers andwindlasses, he came up in order to interrupt their confabulations. Nanalifted her eyes and smiled at him as she smiled at His Highness. But shekept her ears open notwithstanding, for she was waiting for her cue. 

"The third act is the shortest, I believe, " the prince began saying, forthe count's presence embarrassed him. 

She did not answer; her whole expression altered; she was suddenlyintent on her business. With a rapid movement of the shoulders she hadlet her furs slip from her, and Mme Jules, standing behind, had caughtthem in her arms. And then after passing her two hands to her hair asthough to make it fast, she went on the stage in all her nudity. 

"Hush, hush!" whispered Bordenave. 

The count and the prince had been taken by surprise. There was profoundsilence, and then a deep sigh and the far-off murmur of a multitudebecame audible. Every evening when Venus entered in her godlikenakedness the same effect was produced. Then Muffat was seized witha desire to see; he put his eye to the peephole. Above and beyond theglowing arc formed by the footlights the dark body of the house seemedfull of ruddy vapor, and against this neutral-tinted background, whererow upon row of faces struck a pale, uncertain note, Nana stood forthwhite and vast, so that the boxes from the balcony to the flies wereblotted from view. He saw her from behind, noted her swelling hips, heroutstretched arms, while down on the floor, on the same level as herfeet, the prompter's head--an old man's head with a humble, honestface--stood on the edge of the stage, looking as though it had beensevered from the body. At certain points in her opening number anundulating movement seemed to run from her neck to her waist and to dieout in the trailing border of her tunic. When amid a tempest of applauseshe had sung her last note she bowed, and the gauze floated forth roundabout her limbs, and her hair swept over her waist as she bent sharplybackward. And seeing her thus, as with bending form and with exaggeratedhips she came backing toward the count's peephole, he stood uprightagain, and his face was very white. The stage had disappeared, and henow saw only the reverse side of the scenery with its display of oldposters pasted up in every direction. On the practicable slope, amongthe lines of gas jets, the whole of Olympus had rejoined the dozing MmeDrouard. They were waiting for the close of the act. Bosc and Fontansat on the floor with their knees drawn up to their chins, and Prullierestretched himself and yawned before going on. Everybody was worn out;their eyes were red, and they were longing to go home to sleep. 

Just then Fauchery, who had been prowling about on the O. P. Side eversince Bordenave had forbidden him the other, came and buttonholed thecount in order to keep himself in countenance and offered at the sametime to show him the dressing rooms. An increasing sense of languor hadleft Muffat without any power of resistance, and after looking round forthe Marquis de Chouard, who had disappeared, he ended by following thejournalist. He experienced a mingled feeling of relief and anxiety as heleft the wings whence he had been listening to Nana's songs. 

Fauchery had already preceded him up the staircase, which was closed onthe first and second floors by low-paneled doors. It was one of thosestairways which you find in miserable tenements. Count Muffat had seenmany such during his rounds as member of the Benevolent Organization. Itwas bare and dilapidated: there was a wash of yellow paint on its walls;its steps had been worn by the incessant passage of feet, and its ironbalustrade had grown smooth under the friction of many hands. On a levelwith the floor on every stairhead there was a low window which resembleda deep, square venthole, while in lanterns fastened to the walls flaringgas jets crudely illuminated the surrounding squalor and gave out aglowing heat which, as it mounted up the narrow stairwell, grew evermore intense. 

When he reached the foot of the stairs the count once more felt the hotbreath upon his neck and shoulders. As of old it was laden with the odorof women, wafted amid floods of light and sound from the dressing roomsabove, and now with every upward step he took the musky scent of powdersand the tart perfume of toilet vinegars heated and bewildered him moreand more. On the first floor two corridors ran backward, branchingsharply off and presenting a set of doors to view which were paintedyellow and numbered with great white numerals in such a way as tosuggest a hotel with a bad reputation. The tiles on the floor had beenmany of them unbedded, and the old house being in a state of subsidence, they stuck up like hummocks. The count dashed recklessly forward, glanced through a half-open door and saw a very dirty room whichresembled a barber's shop in a poor part of the town. In was furnishedwith two chairs, a mirror and a small table containing a drawer whichhad been blackened by the grease from brushes and combs. A greatperspiring fellow with smoking shoulders was changing his linen there, while in a similar room next door a woman was drawing on her glovespreparatory to departure. Her hair was damp and out of curl, as thoughshe had just had a bath. But Fauchery began calling the count, and thelatter was rushing up without delay when a furious "damn!" burst fromthe corridor on the right. Mathilde, a little drab of a miss, had justbroken her washhand basin, the soapy water from which was flowing out tothe stairhead. A dressing room door banged noisily. Two women in theirstays skipped across the passage, and another, with the hem of her shiftin her mouth, appeared and immediately vanished from view. Then followeda sound of laughter, a dispute, the snatch of a song which was suddenlybroken off short. All along the passage naked gleams, sudden visionsof white skin and wan underlinen were observable through chinks indoorways. Two girls were making very merry, showing each other theirbirthmarks. One of them, a very young girl, almost a child, had drawnher skirts up over her knees in order to sew up a rent in her drawers, and the dressers, catching sight of the two men, drew some curtains halfto for decency's sake. The wild stampede which follows the end of aplay had already begun, the grand removal of white paint and rouge, thereassumption amid clouds of rice powder of ordinary attire. The strangeanimal scent came in whiffs of redoubled intensity through the linesof banging doors. On the third story Muffat abandoned himself to thefeeling of intoxication which was overpowering him. For the chorusgirls' dressing room was there, and you saw a crowd of twenty womenand a wild display of soaps and flasks of lavender water. The placeresembled the common room in a slum lodging house. As he passed by heheard fierce sounds of washing behind a closed door and a perfect stormraging in a washhand basin. And as he was mounting up to the topmoststory of all, curiosity led him to risk one more little peep throughan open loophole. The room was empty, and under the flare of the gas asolitary chamber pot stood forgotten among a heap of petticoats trailingon the floor. This room afforded him his ultimate impression. Upstairson the fourth floor he was well-nigh suffocated. All the scents, all theblasts of heat, had found their goal there. The yellow ceiling lookedas if it had been baked, and a lamp burned amid fumes of russet-coloredfog. For some seconds he leaned upon the iron balustrade which felt warmand damp and well-nigh human to the touch. And he shut his eyes and drewa long breath and drank in the sexual atmosphere of the place. Hithertohe had been utterly ignorant of it, but now it beat full in his face. 

"Do come here, " shouted Fauchery, who had vanished some moments ago. "You're being asked for. "

At the end of the corridor was the dressing room belonging to Clarisseand Simonne. It was a long, ill-built room under the roof with a garretceiling and sloping walls. The light penetrated to it from two deep-setopenings high up in the wall, but at that hour of the night the dressingroom was lit by flaring gas. It was papered with a paper at seven sous aroll with a pattern of roses twining over green trelliswork. Two boards, placed near one another and covered with oilcloth, did duty for dressingtables. They were black with spilled water, and underneath them wasa fine medley of dinted zinc jugs, slop pails and coarse yellowearthenware crocks. There was an array of fancy articles in the room--abattered, soiled and well-worn array of chipped basins, of toothlesscombs, of all those manifold untidy trifles which, in their hurry andcarelessness, two women will leave scattered about when they undress andwash together amid purely temporary surroundings, the dirty aspect ofwhich has ceased to concern them. 

"Do come here, " Fauchery repeated with the good-humored familiaritywhich men adopt among their fallen sisters. "Clarisse is wanting to kissyou. "

Muffat entered the room at last. But what was his surprise when he foundthe Marquis de Chouard snugly enscounced on a chair between the twodressing tables! The marquis had withdrawn thither some time ago. Hewas spreading his feet apart because a pail was leaking and letting awhitish flood spread over the floor. He was visibly much at his ease, asbecame a man who knew all the snug corners, and had grown quite merry inthe close dressing room, where people might have been bathing, and amidthose quietly immodest feminine surroundings which the uncleanness ofthe little place rendered at once natural and poignant. 

"D'you go with the old boy?" Simonne asked Clarisse in a whisper. 

"Rather!" replied the latter aloud. 

The dresser, a very ugly and extremely familiar young girl, who washelping Simonne into her coat, positively writhed with laughter. Thethree pushed each other and babbled little phrases which redoubled theirmerriment. 

"Come, Clarisse, kiss the gentleman, " said Fauchery. "You know, he's gotthe rhino. "

And turning to the count:

"You'll see, she's very nice! She's going to kiss you!"

But Clarisse was disgusted by the men. She spoke in violent terms of thedirty lot waiting at the porter's lodge down below. Besides, she wasin a hurry to go downstairs again; they were making her miss her lastscene. Then as Fauchery blocked up the doorway, she gave Muffat a coupleof kisses on the whiskers, remarking as she did so:

"It's not for you, at any rate! It's for that nuisance Fauchery!"

And with that she darted off, and the count remained much embarrassedin his father-in-law's presence. The blood had rushed to his face. InNana's dressing room, amid all the luxury of hangings and mirrors, hehad not experienced the sharp physical sensation which the shamefulwretchedness of that sorry garret excited within him, redolent as it wasof these two girls' self-abandonment. Meanwhile the marquis had hurriedin the rear of Simonne, who was making off at the top of her pace, and he kept whispering in her ear while she shook her head in token ofrefusal. Fauchery followed them, laughing. And with that the countfound himself alone with the dresser, who was washing out the basins. Accordingly he took his departure, too, his legs almost failing underhim. Once more he put up flights of half-dressed women and caused doorsto bang as he advanced. But amid the disorderly, disbanded troops ofgirls to be found on each of the four stories, he was only distinctlyaware of a cat, a great tortoise-shell cat, which went gliding upstairsthrough the ovenlike place where the air was poisoned with musk, rubbingits back against the banisters and keeping its tail exceedingly erect. 

"Yes, to be sure!" said a woman hoarsely. "I thought they'd keep us backtonight! What a nuisance they are with their calls!"

The end had come; the curtain had just fallen. There was a veritablestampede on the staircase--its walls rang with exclamations, andeveryone was in a savage hurry to dress and be off. As Count Muffatcame down the last step or two he saw Nana and the prince passing slowlyalong the passage. The young woman halted and lowered her voice as shesaid with a smile:

"All right then--by and by!"

The prince returned to the stage, where Bordenave was awaiting him. Andleft alone with Nana, Muffat gave way to an impulse of anger and desire. He ran up behind her and, as she was on the point of entering herdressing room, imprinted a rough kiss on her neck among little goldenhairs curling low down between her shoulders. It was as though he hadreturned the kiss that had been given him upstairs. Nana was in a fury;she lifted her hand, but when she recognized the count she smiled. 

"Oh, you frightened me, " she said simply. 

And her smile was adorable in its embarrassment and submissiveness, asthough she had despaired of this kiss and were happy to have receivedit. But she could do nothing for him either that evening or the dayafter. It was a case of waiting. Nay, even if it had been in her powershe would still have let herself be desired. Her glance said as much. Atlength she continued:

"I'm a landowner, you know. Yes, I'm buying a country house nearOrleans, in a part of the world to which you sometimes betake yourself. Baby told me you did--little Georges Hugon, I mean. You know him? Socome and see me down there. "

The count was a shy man, and the thought of his roughness had frightenedhim; he was ashamed of what he had done and he bowed ceremoniously, promising at the same time to take advantage of her invitation. Then hewalked off as one who dreams. 

He was rejoining the prince when, passing in front of the foyer, heheard Satin screaming out:

"Oh, the dirty old thing! Just you bloody well leave me alone!"

It was the Marquis de Chouard who was tumbling down over Satin. The girlhad decidedly had enough of the fashionable world! Nana had certainlyintroduced her to Bordenave, but the necessity of standing with sealedlips for fear of allowing some awkward phrase to escape her had been toomuch for her feelings, and now she was anxious to regain her freedom, the more so as she had run against an old flame of hers in the wings. This was the super, to whom the task of impersonating Pluto had beenentrusted, a pastry cook, who had already treated her to a whole weekof love and flagellation. She was waiting for him, much irritated at thethings the marquis was saying to her, as though she were one of thosetheatrical ladies! And so at last she assumed a highly respectableexpression and jerked out this phrase:

"My husband's coming! You'll see. "

Meanwhile the worn-looking artistes were dropping off one after theother in their outdoor coats. Groups of men and women were coming downthe little winding staircase, and the outlines of battered hats andworn-out shawls were visible in the shadows. They looked colorless andunlovely, as became poor play actors who have got rid of their paint. On the stage, where the side lights and battens were being extinguished, the prince was listening to an anecdote Bordenave was telling him. Hewas waiting for Nana, and when at length she made her appearance thestage was dark, and the fireman on duty was finishing his round, lanternin hand. Bordenave, in order to save His Highness going about by thePassage des Panoramas, had made them open the corridor which led fromthe porter's lodge to the entrance hall of the theater. Along thisnarrow alley little women were racing pell-mell, for they were delightedto escape from the men who were waiting for them in the other passage. They went jostling and elbowing along, casting apprehensive glancesbehind them and only breathing freely when they got outside. Fontan, Bosc and Prulliere, on the other hand, retired at a leisurely pace, joking at the figure cut by the serious, paying admirers who werestriding up and down the Galerie des Varietes at a time when the littledears were escaping along the boulevard with the men of their hearts. But Clarisse was especially sly. She had her suspicions about LaFaloise, and, as a matter of fact, he was still in his place in thelodge among the gentlemen obstinately waiting on Mme Bron's chairs. Theyall stretched forward, and with that she passed brazenly by in the wakeof a friend. The gentlemen were blinking in bewilderment over the wildwhirl of petticoats eddying at the foot of the narrow stairs. It madethem desperate to think they had waited so long, only to see them allflying away like this without being able to recognize a single one. The litter of little black cats were sleeping on the oilcloth, nestledagainst their mother's belly, and the latter was stretching her pawsout in a state of beatitude while the big tortoise-shell cat sat at theother end of the table, her tail stretched out behind her and her yelloweyes solemnly following the flight of the women. 

"If His Highness will be good enough to come this way, " said Bordenaveat the bottom of the stairs, and he pointed to the passage. 

Some chorus girls were still crowding along it. The prince beganfollowing Nana while Muffat and the marquis walked behind. 

It was a long, narrow passage lying between the theater and the housenext door, a kind of contracted by-lane which had been covered with asloping glass roof. Damp oozed from the walls, and the footfall soundedas hollow on the tiled floor as in an underground vault. It wascrowded with the kind of rubbish usually found in a garret. There wasa workbench on which the porter was wont to plane such parts of thescenery as required it, besides a pile of wooden barriers which at nightwere placed at the doors of the theater for the purpose of regulatingthe incoming stream of people. Nana had to pick up her dress as shepassed a hydrant which, through having been carelessly turned off, wasflooding the tiles underfoot. In the entrance hall the company bowed andsaid good-by. And when Bordenave was alone he summed up his opinion ofthe prince in a shrug of eminently philosophic disdain. 

"He's a bit of a duffer all the same, " he said to Fauchery withoutentering on further explanations, and with that Rose Mignon carriedthe journalist off with her husband in order to effect a reconciliationbetween them at home. 

Muffat was left alone on the sidewalk. His Highness had handed Nanaquietly into his carriage, and the marquis had slipped off after Satinand her super. In his excitement he was content to follow this viciouspair in vague hopes of some stray favor being granted him. Then withbrain on fire Muffat decided to walk home. The struggle within him hadwholly ceased. The ideas and beliefs of the last forty years werebeing drowned in a flood of new life. While he was passing along theboulevards the roll of the last carriages deafened him with the nameof Nana; the gaslights set nude limbs dancing before his eyes--the nudelimbs, the lithe arms, the white shoulders, of Nana. And he felt that hewas hers utterly: he would have abjured everything, sold everything, topossess her for a single hour that very night. Youth, a lustful pubertyof early manhood, was stirring within him at last, flaming up suddenlyin the chaste heart of the Catholic and amid the dignified traditions ofmiddle age. 

CHAPTER VI

Count Muffat, accompanied by his wife and daughter, had arrivedovernight at Les Fondettes, where Mme Hugon, who was staying there withonly her son Georges, had invited them to come and spend a week. Thehouse, which had been built at the end of the eighteenth century, stoodin the middle of a huge square enclosure. It was perfectly unadorned, but the garden possessed magnificent shady trees and a chain of tanksfed by running spring water. It stood at the side of the road whichleads from Orleans to Paris and with its rich verdure and high-emboweredtrees broke the monotony of that flat countryside, where fieldsstretched to the horizon's verge. 

At eleven o'clock, when the second lunch bell had called the wholehousehold together, Mme Hugon, smiling in her kindly maternal way, gaveSabine two great kisses, one on each cheek, and said as she did so:

"You know it's my custom in the country. Oh, seeing you here makes mefeel twenty years younger. Did you sleep well in your old room?"

Then without waiting for her reply she turned to Estelle:

"And this little one, has she had a nap too? Give me a kiss, my child. "

They had taken their seats in the vast dining room, the windows ofwhich looked out on the park. But they only occupied one end of thelong table, where they sat somewhat crowded together for company's sake. Sabine, in high good spirits, dwelt on various childish memorieswhich had been stirred up within her--memories of months passed at LesFondettes, of long walks, of a tumble into one of the tanks on a summerevening, of an old romance of chivalry discovered by her on the top of acupboard and read during the winter before fires made of vine branches. And Georges, who had not seen the countess for some months, thoughtthere was something curious about her. Her face seemed changed, somehow, while, on the other hand, that stick of an Estelle seemed moreinsignificant and dumb and awkward than ever. 

While such simple fare as cutlets and boiled eggs was being discussed bythe company, Mme Hugon, as became a good housekeeper, launched out intocomplaints. The butchers, she said, were becoming impossible. She boughteverything at Orleans, and yet they never brought her the pieces sheasked for. Yet, alas, if her guests had nothing worth eating it wastheir own fault: they had come too late in the season. 

"There's no sense in it, " she said. "I've been expecting you since June, and now we're half through September. You see, it doesn't look pretty. "

And with a movement she pointed to the trees on the grass outside, theleaves of which were beginning to turn yellow. The day was covered, andthe distance was hidden by a bluish haze which was fraught with a sweetand melancholy peacefulness. 

"Oh, I'm expecting company, " she continued. "We shall be gayer then! Thefirst to come will be two gentlemen whom Georges has invited--MonsieurFauchery and Monsieur Daguenet; you know them, do you not? Then we shallhave Monsieur de Vandeuvres, who has promised me a visit these fiveyears past. This time, perhaps, he'll make up his mind!"

"Oh, well and good!" said the countess, laughing. "If we only can getMonsieur de Vandeuvres! But he's too much engaged. "

"And Philippe?" queried Muffat. 

"Philippe has asked for a furlough, " replied the old lady, "but withoutdoubt you won't be at Les Fondettes any longer when he arrives. "

The coffee was served. Paris was now the subject of conversation, andSteiner's name was mentioned, at which Mme Hugon gave a little cry. 

"Let me see, " she said; "Monsieur Steiner is that stout man I metat your house one evening. He's a banker, is he not? Now there's adetestable man for you! Why, he's gone and bought an actress an estateabout a league from here, over Gumieres way, beyond the Choue. The wholecountryside's scandalized. Did you know about that, my friend?"

"I knew nothing about it, " replied Muffat. "Ah, then, Steiner's bought acountry place in the neighborhood!"

Hearing his mother broach the subject, Georges looked into his coffeecup, but in his astonishment at the count's answer he glanced up at himand stared. Why was he lying so glibly? The count, on his side, noticedthe young fellow's movement and gave him a suspicious glance. Mme Hugoncontinued to go into details: the country place was called La Mignotte. In order to get there one had to go up the bank of the Choue as far asGumieres in order to cross the bridge; otherwise one got one's feet wetand ran the risk of a ducking. 

"And what is the actress's name?" asked the countess. 

"Oh, I wasn't told, " murmured the old lady. "Georges, you were there themorning the gardener spoke to us about it. "

Georges appeared to rack his brains. Muffat waited, twirling a teaspoonbetween his fingers. Then the countess addressed her husband:

"Isn't Monsieur Steiner with that singer at the Varietes, that Nana?"

"Nana, that's the name! A horrible woman!" cried Mme Hugon with growingannoyance. "And they are expecting her at La Mignotte. I've heard allabout it from the gardener. Didn't the gardener say they were expectingher this evening, Georges?"

The count gave a little start of astonishment, but Georges replied withmuch vivacity:

"Oh, Mother, the gardener spoke without knowing anything about it. Directly afterward the coachman said just the opposite. Nobody'sexpected at La Mignotte before the day after tomorrow. "

He tried hard to assume a natural expression while he slyly watched theeffect of his remarks on the count. The latter was twirling his spoonagain as though reassured. The countess, her eyes fixed dreamily onthe blue distances of the park, seemed to have lost all interest inthe conversation. The shadow of a smile on her lips, she seemed to befollowing up a secret thought which had been suddenly awakened withinher. Estelle, on the other hand, sitting stiffly on her chair, had heardall that had been said about Nana, but her white, virginal face had notbetrayed a trace of emotion. 

"Dear me, dear me! I've got no right to grow angry, " murmured Mme Hugonafter a pause, and with a return to her old good humor she added:

"Everybody's got a right to live. If we meet this said lady on the roadwe shall not bow to her--that's all!"

And as they got up from table she once more gently upbraided theCountess Sabine for having been so long in coming to her that year. Butthe countess defended herself and threw the blame of the delays upon herhusband's shoulders. Twice on the eve of departure, when all the trunkswere locked, he counterordered their journey on the plea of urgentbusiness. Then he had suddenly decided to start just when the tripseemed shelved. Thereupon the old lady told them how Georges in the sameway had twice announced his arrival without arriving and had finallycropped up at Les Fondettes the day before yesterday, when she was nolonger expecting him. They had come down into the garden, and the twomen, walking beside the ladies, were listening to them in consequentialsilence. 

"Never mind, " said Mme Hugon, kissing her son's sunny locks, "Zizi is avery good boy to come and bury himself in the country with his mother. He's a dear Zizi not to forget me!"

In the afternoon she expressed some anxiety, for Georges, directly afterleaving the table, had complained of a heavy feeling in his head and nowseemed in for an atrocious sick headache. Toward four o'clock he saidhe would go upstairs to bed: it was the only remedy. After sleeping tilltomorrow morning he would be perfectly himself again. His mother wasbent on putting him to bed herself, but as she left the room he ran andlocked the door, explaining that he was shutting himself in so thatno one should come and disturb him. Then caressingly he shouted, "Goodnight till tomorrow, little Mother!" and promised to take a nap. Buthe did not go to bed again and with flushed cheeks and bright eyesnoiselessly put on his clothes. Then he sat on a chair and waited. Whenthe dinner bell rang he listened for Count Muffat, who was on his way tothe dining room, and ten minutes later, when he was certain that noone would see him, he slipped from the window to the ground with theassistance of a rain pipe. His bedroom was situated on the first floorand looked out upon the rear of the house. He threw himself among somebushes and got out of the park and then galloped across the fields withempty stomach and heart beating with excitement. Night was closing in, and a small fine rain was beginning to fall. 

It was the very evening that Nana was due at La Mignotte. Ever since inthe preceding May Steiner had bought her this country place she had fromtime to time been so filled with the desire of taking possession thatshe had wept hot tears about, but on each of these occasions Bordenavehad refused to give her even the shortest leave and had deferred herholiday till September on the plea that he did not intend putting anunderstudy in her place, even for one evening, now that the exhibitionwas on. Toward the close of August he spoke of October. Nana wasfurious and declared that she would be at La Mignotte in the middle ofSeptember. Nay, in order to dare Bordenave, she even invited a crowdof guests in his very presence. One afternoon in her rooms, as Muffat, whose advances she still adroitly resisted, was beseeching her withtremulous emotion to yield to his entreaties, she at length promisedto be kind, but not in Paris, and to him, too, she named the middleof September. Then on the twelfth she was seized by a desire to be offforthwith with Zoe as her sole companion. It might be that Bordenavehad got wind of her intentions and was about to discover some means ofdetaining her. She was delighted at the notion of putting him in a fix, and she sent him a doctor's certificate. When once the idea had enteredher head of being the first to get to La Mignotte and of living theretwo days without anybody knowing anything about it, she rushed Zoethrough the operation of packing and finally pushed her into a cab, where in a sudden burst of extreme contrition she kissed her and beggedher pardon. It was only when they got to the station refreshment roomthat she thought of writing Steiner of her movements. She begged him towait till the day after tomorrow before rejoining her if he wanted tofind her quite bright and fresh. And then, suddenly conceiving anotherproject, she wrote a second letter, in which she besought her aunt tobring little Louis to her at once. It would do Baby so much good! Andhow happy they would be together in the shade of the trees! In therailway carriage between Paris and Orleans she spoke of nothing else;her eyes were full of tears; she had an unexpected attack of maternaltenderness and mingled together flowers, birds and child in her everysentence. 

La Mignotte was more than three leagues away from the station, andNana lost a good hour over the hire of a carriage, a huge, dilapidatedcalash, which rumbled slowly along to an accompaniment of rattlingold iron. She had at once taken possession of the coachman, a littletaciturn old man whom she overwhelmed with questions. Had he oftenpassed by La Mignotte? It was behind this hill then? There ought to belots of trees there, eh? And the house could one see it at a distance?The little old man answered with a succession of grunts. Down in thecalash Nana was almost dancing with impatience, while Zoe, in herannoyance at having left Paris in such a hurry, sat stiffly sulkingbeside her. The horse suddenly stopped short, and the young womanthought they had reached their destination. She put her head out of thecarriage door and asked:

"Are we there, eh?"

By way of answer the driver whipped up his horse, which was in the actof painfully climbing a hill. Nana gazed ecstatically at the vast plainbeneath the gray sky where great clouds were banked up. 

"Oh, do look, Zoe! There's greenery! Now, is that all wheat? Good lord, how pretty it is!"

"One can quite see that Madame doesn't come from the country, " was theservant's prim and tardy rejoinder. "As for me, I knew the country onlytoo well when I was with my dentist. He had a house at Bougival. No, it's cold, too, this evening. It's damp in these parts. "

They were driving under the shadow of a wood, and Nana sniffed up thescent of the leaves as a young dog might. All of a sudden at a turnof the road she caught sight of the corner of a house among the trees. Perhaps it was there! And with that she began a conversation with thedriver, who continued shaking his head by way of saying no. Then as theydrove down the other side of the hill he contented himself by holdingout his whip and muttering, "'Tis down there. "

She got up and stretched herself almost bodily out of the carriage door. 

"Where is it? Where is it?" she cried with pale cheeks, but as yet shesaw nothing. 

At last she caught sight of a bit of wall. And then followed asuccession of little cries and jumps, the ecstatic behavior of a womanovercome by a new and vivid sensation. 

"I see it! I see it, Zoe! Look out at the other side. Oh, there's aterrace with brick ornaments on the roof! And there's a hothouse downthere! But the place is immense. Oh, how happy I am! Do look, Zoe! Now, do look!"

The carriage had by this time pulled up before the park gates. Aside door was opened, and the gardener, a tall, dry fellow, made hisappearance, cap in hand. Nana made an effort to regain her dignity, for the driver seemed now to be suppressing a laugh behind his dry, speechless lips. She refrained from setting off at a run and listenedto the gardener, who was a very talkative fellow. He begged Madame toexcuse the disorder in which she found everything, seeing that he hadonly received Madame's letter that very morning. But despite all hisefforts, she flew off at a tangent and walked so quickly that Zoe couldscarcely follow her. At the end of the avenue she paused for a momentin order to take the house in at a glance. It was a great pavilion-likebuilding in the Italian manner, and it was flanked by a smallerconstruction, which a rich Englishman, after two years' residence inNaples, had caused to be erected and had forthwith become disgustedwith. 

"I'll take Madame over the house, " said the gardener. 

But she had outrun him entirely, and she shouted back that he was notto put himself out and that she would go over the house by herself. Shepreferred doing that, she said. And without removing her hat she dashedinto the different rooms, calling to Zoe as she did so, shouting herimpressions from one end of each corridor to the other and fillingthe empty house, which for long months had been uninhabited, withexclamations and bursts of laughter. In the first place, there was thehall. It was a little damp, but that didn't matter; one wasn't going tosleep in it. Then came the drawing room, quite the thing, the drawingroom, with its windows opening on the lawn. Only the red upholsteriesthere were hideous; she would alter all that. As to the diningroom-well, it was a lovely dining room, eh? What big blowouts you mightgive in Paris if you had a dining room as large as that! As she wasgoing upstairs to the first floor it occurred to her that she had notseen the kitchen, and she went down again and indulged in ecstaticexclamations. Zoe ought to admire the beautiful dimensions of the sinkand the width of the hearth, where you might have roasted a sheep! Whenshe had gone upstairs again her bedroom especially enchanted her. It hadbeen hung with delicate rose-colored Louis XVI cretonne by an Orleansupholsterer. Dear me, yes! One ought to sleep jolly sound in such a roomas that; why, it was a real best bedroom! Then came four or five guestchambers and then some splendid garrets, which would be extremelyconvenient for trunks and boxes. Zoe looked very gruff and cast a frigidglance into each of the rooms as she lingered in Madame's wake. Shesaw Nana disappearing up the steep garret ladder and said, "Thanks, I haven't the least wish to break my legs. " But the sound of a voicereached her from far away; indeed, it seemed to come whistling down achimney. 

"Zoe, Zoe, where are you? Come up, do! You've no idea! It's likefairyland!"

Zoe went up, grumbling. On the roof she found her mistress leaningagainst the brickwork balustrade and gazing at the valley which spreadout into the silence. The horizon was immeasurably wide, but it was nowcovered by masses of gray vapor, and a fierce wind was driving fine rainbefore it. Nana had to hold her hat on with both hands to keep it frombeing blown away while her petticoats streamed out behind her, flappinglike a flag. 

"Not if I know it!" said Zoe, drawing her head in at once. "Madame willbe blown away. What beastly weather!"

Madame did not hear what she said. With her head over the balustradeshe was gazing at the grounds beneath. They consisted of seven or eightacres of land enclosed within a wall. Then the view of the kitchengarden entirely engrossed her attention. She darted back, jostling thelady's maid at the top of the stairs and bursting out:

"It's full of cabbages! Oh, such woppers! And lettuces and sorrel andonions and everything! Come along, make haste!"

The rain was falling more heavily now, and she opened her white silksunshade and ran down the garden walks. 

"Madame will catch cold, " cried Zoe, who had stayed quietly behind underthe awning over the garden door. 

But Madame wanted to see things, and at each new discovery there was aburst of wonderment. 

"Zoe, here's spinach! Do come. Oh, look at the artichokes! They arefunny. So they grow in the ground, do they? Now, what can that be? Idon't know it. Do come, Zoe, perhaps you know. "

The lady's maid never budged an inch. Madame must really be raving mad. For now the rain was coming down in torrents, and the little white silksunshade was already dark with it. Nor did it shelter Madame, whoseskirts were wringing wet. But that didn't put her out in the smallestdegree, and in the pouring rain she visited the kitchen garden and theorchard, stopping in front of every fruit tree and bending over everybed of vegetables. Then she ran and looked down the well and lifted up aframe to see what was underneath it and was lost in the contemplation ofa huge pumpkin. She wanted to go along every single garden walk and totake immediate possession of all the things she had been wont to dreamof in the old days, when she was a slipshod work-girl on the Parispavements. The rain redoubled, but she never heeded it and was onlymiserable at the thought that the daylight was fading. She could not seeclearly now and touched things with her fingers to find out whatthey were. Suddenly in the twilight she caught sight of a bed ofstrawberries, and all that was childish in her awoke. 

"Strawberries! Strawberries! There are some here; I can feel them. Aplate, Zoe! Come and pick strawberries. "

And dropping her sunshade, Nana crouched down in the mire under the fullforce of the downpour. With drenched hands she began gathering the fruitamong the leaves. But Zoe in the meantime brought no plate, and when theyoung woman rose to her feet again she was frightened. She thought shehad seen a shadow close to her. 

"It's some beast!" she screamed. 

But she stood rooted to the path in utter amazement. It was a man, andshe recognized him. 

"Gracious me, it's Baby! What ARE you doing there, baby?"

"'Gad, I've come--that's all!" replied Georges. 

Her head swam. 

"You knew I'd come through the gardener telling you? Oh, that poorchild! Why, he's soaking!"

"Oh, I'll explain that to you! The rain caught me on my way here, andthen, as I didn't wish to go upstream as far as Gumieres, I crossed theChoue and fell into a blessed hole. "

Nana forgot the strawberries forthwith. She was trembling and full ofpity. That poor dear Zizi in a hole full of water! And she drew him withher in the direction of the house and spoke of making up a roaring fire. 

"You know, " he murmured, stopping her among the shadows, "I was inhiding because I was afraid of being scolded, like in Paris, when I comeand see you and you're not expecting me. "

She made no reply but burst out laughing and gave him a kiss on theforehead. Up till today she had always treated him like a naughtyurchin, never taking his declarations seriously and amusing herself athis expense as though he were a little man of no consequence whatever. There was much ado to install him in the house. She absolutely insistedon the fire being lit in her bedroom, as being the most comfortableplace for his reception. Georges had not surprised Zoe, who was usedto all kinds of encounters, but the gardener, who brought the woodupstairs, was greatly nonplused at sight of this dripping gentleman towhom he was certain he had not opened the front door. He was, however, dismissed, as he was no longer wanted. 

A lamp lit up the room, and the fire burned with a great bright flame. 

"He'll never get dry, and he'll catch cold, " said Nana, seeing Georgesbeginning to shiver. 

And there were no men's trousers in her house! She was on the pointof calling the gardener back when an idea struck her. Zoe, who wasunpacking the trunks in the dressing room, brought her mistress a changeof underwear, consisting of a shift and some petticoats with a dressingjacket. 

"Oh, that's first rate!" cried the young woman. "Zizi can put 'em allon. You're not angry with me, eh? When your clothes are dry you can putthem on again, and then off with you, as fast as fast can be, so as notto have a scolding from your mamma. Make haste! I'm going to change mythings, too, in the dressing room. "

Ten minutes afterward, when she reappeared in a tea gown, she claspedher hands in a perfect ecstasy. 

"Oh, the darling! How sweet he looks dressed like a little woman!"

He had simply slipped on a long nightgown with an insertion front, apair of worked drawers and the dressing jacket, which was a long cambricgarment trimmed with lace. Thus attired and with his delicate young armsshowing and his bright damp hair falling almost to his shoulders, helooked just like a girl. 

"Why, he's as slim as I am!" said Nana, putting her arm round his waist. "Zoe, just come here and see how it suits him. It's made for him, eh?All except the bodice part, which is too large. He hasn't got as much asI have, poor, dear Zizi!"

"Oh, to be sure, I'm a bit wanting there, " murmured Georges with asmile. 

All three grew very merry about it. Nana had set to work buttoning thedressing jacket from top to bottom so as to make him quite decent. Thenshe turned him round as though he were a doll, gave him little thumps, made the skirt stand well out behind. After which she asked himquestions. Was he comfortable? Did he feel warm? Zounds, yes, he wascomfortable! Nothing fitted more closely and warmly than a woman'sshift; had he been able, he would always have worn one. He moved roundand about therein, delighted with the fine linen and the soft touch ofthat unmanly garment, in the folds of which he thought he discoveredsome of Nana's own warm life. 

Meanwhile Zoe had taken the soaked clothes down to the kitchen in orderto dry them as quickly as possible in front of a vine-branch fire. ThenGeorges, as he lounged in an easy chair, ventured to make a confession. 

"I say, are you going to feed this evening? I'm dying of hunger. Ihaven't dined. "

Nana was vexed. The great silly thing to go sloping off from Mamma'swith an empty stomach, just to chuck himself into a hole full of water!But she was as hungry as a hunter too. They certainly must feed! Onlythey would have to eat what they could get. Whereupon a round tablewas rolled up in front of the fire, and the queerest of dinners wasimprovised thereon. Zoe ran down to the gardener's, he having cooked amess of cabbage soup in case Madame should not dine at Orleans beforeher arrival. Madame, indeed, had forgotten to tell him what he was toget ready in the letter she had sent him. Fortunately the cellar waswell furnished. Accordingly they had cabbage soup, followed by a pieceof bacon. Then Nana rummaged in her handbag and found quite a heap ofprovisions which she had taken the precaution of stuffing into it. Therewas a Strasbourg pate, for instance, and a bag of sweet-meats and someoranges. So they both ate away like ogres and, while they satisfiedtheir healthy young appetites, treated one another with easy goodfellowship. Nana kept calling Georges "dear old girl, " a form of addresswhich struck her as at once tender and familiar. At dessert, in ordernot to give Zoe any more trouble, they used the same spoon turn and turnabout while demolishing a pot of preserves they had discovered at thetop of a cupboard. 

"Oh, you dear old girl!" said Nana, pushing back the round table. "Ihaven't made such a good dinner these ten years past!"

Yet it was growing late, and she wanted to send her boy off for fear heshould be suspected of all sorts of things. But he kept declaring thathe had plenty of time to spare. For the matter of that, his clothes werenot drying well, and Zoe averred that it would take an hour longer atleast, and as she was dropping with sleep after the fatigues of thejourney, they sent her off to bed. After which they were alone in thesilent house. 

It was a very charming evening. The fire was dying out amid glowingembers, and in the great blue room, where Zoe had made up the bed beforegoing upstairs, the air felt a little oppressive. Nana, overcome by theheavy warmth, got up to open the window for a few minutes, and as shedid so she uttered a little cry. 

"Great heavens, how beautiful it is! Look, dear old girl!"

Georges had come up, and as though the window bar had not beensufficiently wide, he put his arm round Nana's waist and rested hishead against her shoulder. The weather had undergone a brisk change: theskies were clearing, and a full moon lit up the country with its goldendisk of light. A sovereign quiet reigned over the valley. It seemedwider and larger as it opened on the immense distances of the plain, where the trees loomed like little shadowy islands amid a shining andwaveless lake. And Nana grew tenderhearted, felt herself a child again. Most surely she had dreamed of nights like this at an epoch which shecould not recall. Since leaving the train every object of sensation--thewide countryside, the green things with their pungent scents, the house, the vegetables--had stirred her to such a degree that now it seemed toher as if she had left Paris twenty years ago. Yesterday's existencewas far, far away, and she was full of sensations of which she had noprevious experience. Georges, meanwhile, was giving her neck littlecoaxing kisses, and this again added to her sweet unrest. Withhesitating hand she pushed him from her, as though he were a child whoseaffectionate advances were fatiguing, and once more she told him thathe ought to take his departure. He did not gainsay her. All in goodtime--he would go all in good time!

But a bird raised its song and again was silent. It was a robin in anelder tree below the window. 

"Wait one moment, " whispered Georges; "the lamp's frightening him. I'llput it out. "

And when he came back and took her waist again he added:

"We'll relight it in a minute. "

Then as she listened to the robin and the boy pressed against her side, Nana remembered. Ah yes, it was in novels that she had got to know allthis! In other days she would have given her heart to have a full moonand robins and a lad dying of love for her. Great God, she could havecried, so good and charming did it all seem to her! Beyond a doubt shehad been born to live honestly! So she pushed Georges away again, and hegrew yet bolder. 

"No, let me be. I don't care about it. It would be very wicked at yourage. Now listen--I'll always be your mamma. "

A sudden feeling of shame overcame her. She was blushing exceedingly, and yet not a soul could see her. The room behind them was full of blacknight while the country stretched before them in silence and lifelesssolitude. Never had she known such a sense of shame before. Little bylittle she felt her power of resistance ebbing away, and that despiteher embarrassed efforts to the contrary. That disguise of his, thatwoman's shift and that dressing jacket set her laughing again. It was asthough a girl friend were teasing her. 

"Oh, it's not right; it's not right!" she stammered after a last effort. 

And with that, in face of the lovely night, she sank like a young virgininto the arms of this mere child. The house slept. 

Next morning at Les Fondettes, when the bell rang for lunch, thedining-room table was no longer too big for the company. Fauchery andDaguenet had been driven up together in one carriage, and after themanother had arrived with the Count de Vandeuvres, who had followed bythe next train. Georges was the last to come downstairs. He was lookinga little pale, and his eyes were sunken, but in answer to questions hesaid that he was much better, though he was still somewhat shaken by theviolence of the attack. Mme Hugon looked into his eyes with an anxioussmile and adjusted his hair which had been carelessly combed thatmorning, but he drew back as though embarrassed by this tender littleaction. During the meal she chaffed Vandeuvres very pleasantly anddeclared that she had expected him for five years past. 

"Well, here you are at last! How have you managed it?"

Vandeuvres took her remarks with equal pleasantry. He told her that hehad lost a fabulous sum of money at the club yesterday and thereupon hadcome away with the intention of ending up in the country. 

"'Pon my word, yes, if only you can find me an heiress in these rusticparts! There must be delightful women hereabouts. "

The old lady rendered equal thanks to Daguenet and Fauchery for havingbeen so good as to accept her son's invitation, and then to her greatand joyful surprise she saw the Marquis de Chouard enter the room. Athird carriage had brought him. 

"Dear me, you've made this your trysting place today!" she cried. "You've passed word round! But what's happening? For years I've neversucceeded in bringing you all together, and now you all drop in at once. Oh, I certainly don't complain. "

Another place was laid. Fauchery found himself next the CountessSabine, whose liveliness and gaiety surprised him when he rememberedher drooping, languid state in the austere Rue Miromesnil drawing room. Daguenet, on the other hand, who was seated on Estelle's left, seemedslightly put out by his propinquity to that tall, silent girl. Theangularity of her elbows was disagreeable to him. Muffat and Chouardhad exchanged a sly glance while Vandeuvres continued joking about hiscoming marriage. 

"Talking of ladies, " Mme Hugon ended by saying, "I have a new neighborwhom you probably know. "

And she mentioned Nana. Vandeuvres affected the liveliest astonishment. 

"Well, that is strange! Nana's property near here!"

Fauchery and Daguenet indulged in a similar demonstration while theMarquis de Chouard discussed the breast of a chicken without appearingto comprehend their meaning. Not one of the men had smiled. 

"Certainly, " continued the old lady, "and the person in question arrivedat La Mignotte yesterday evening, as I was saying she would. I got myinformation from the gardener this morning. "

At these words the gentlemen could not conceal their very real surprise. They all looked up. Eh? What? Nana had come down! But they were onlyexpecting her next day; they were privately under the impression thatthey would arrive before her! Georges alone sat looking at his glasswith drooped eyelids and a tired expression. Ever since the beginning oflunch he had seemed to be sleeping with open eyes and a vague smile onhis lips. 

"Are you still in pain, my Zizi?" asked his mother, who had been gazingat him throughout the meal. 

He started and blushed as he said that he was very well now, but theworn-out insatiate expression of a girl who has danced too much did notfade from his face. 

"What's the matter with your neck?" resumed Mme Hugon in an alarmedtone. "It's all red. "

He was embarrassed and stammered. He did not know--he had nothing thematter with his neck. Then drawing his shirt collar up:

"Ah yes, some insect stung me there!"

The Marquis de Chouard had cast a sidelong glance at the little redplace. Muffat, too, looked at Georges. The company was finishing lunchand planning various excursions. Fauchery was growing increasinglyexcited with the Countess Sabine's laughter. As he was passing her adish of fruit their hands touched, and for one second she looked athim with eyes so full of dark meaning that he once more thought ofthe secret which had been communicated to him one evening afteran uproarious dinner. Then, too, she was no longer the same woman. Something was more pronounced than of old, and her gray foulard gownwhich fitted loosely over her shoulders added a touch of license to herdelicate, high-strung elegance. 

When they rose from the table Daguenet remained behind with Fauchery inorder to impart to him the following crude witticism about Estelle: "Anice broomstick that to shove into a man's hands!" Nevertheless, he grewserious when the journalist told him the amount she was worth in the wayof dowry. 

"Four hundred thousand francs. "

"And the mother?" queried Fauchery. "She's all right, eh?"

"Oh, SHE'LL work the oracle! But it's no go, my dear man!"

"Bah! How are we to know? We must wait and see. "

It was impossible to go out that day, for the rain was still falling inheavy showers. Georges had made haste to disappear from the scene andhad double-locked his door. These gentlemen avoided mutual explanations, though they were none of them deceived as to the reasons which hadbrought them together. Vandeuvres, who had had a very bad time at play, had really conceived the notion of lying fallow for a season, and he wascounting on Nana's presence in the neighborhood as a safeguard againstexcessive boredom. Fauchery had taken advantage of the holidays grantedhim by Rose, who just then was extremely busy. He was thinking ofdiscussing a second notice with Nana, in case country air should renderthem reciprocally affectionate. Daguenet, who had been just a littlesulky with her since Steiner had come upon the scene, was dreaming ofresuming the old connection or at least of snatching some delightfulopportunities if occasion offered. As to the Marquis de Chouard, he waswatching for times and seasons. But among all those men who were busyfollowing in the tracks of Venus--a Venus with the rouge scarce washedfrom her cheeks--Muffat was at once the most ardent and the mosttortured by the novel sensations of desire and fear and anger warringin his anguished members. A formal promise had been made him; Nana wasawaiting him. Why then had she taken her departure two days sooner thanwas expected?

He resolved to betake himself to La Mignotte after dinner that sameevening. At night as the count was leaving the park Georges fled forthafter him. He left him to follow the road to Gumieres, crossed theChoue, rushed into Nana's presence, breathless, furious and with tearsin his eyes. Ah yes, he understood everything! That old fellow now onhis way to her was coming to keep an appointment! Nana was dumfounded bythis ebullition of jealousy, and, greatly moved by the way things wereturning out, she took him in her arms and comforted him to the best ofher ability. Oh no, he was quite beside the mark; she was expecting noone. If the gentleman came it would not be her fault. What a great ninnythat Zizi was to be taking on so about nothing at all! By her child'ssoul she swore she loved nobody except her own Georges. And with thatshe kissed him and wiped away his tears. 

"Now just listen! You'll see that it's all for your sake, " she went onwhen he had grown somewhat calmer. "Steiner has arrived--he's up abovethere now. You know, duckie, I can't turn HIM out of doors. "

"Yes, I know; I'm not talking of HIM, " whispered the boy. 

"Very well then, I've stuck him into the room at the end. I said I wasout of sorts. He's unpacking his trunk. Since nobody's seen you, bequick and run up and hide in my room and wait for me. "

Georges sprang at her and threw his arms round her neck. It was trueafter all! She loved him a little! So they would put the lamp outas they did yesterday and be in the dark till daytime! Then as thefront-door bell sounded he quietly slipped away. Upstairs in thebedroom he at once took off his shoes so as not to make any noise andstraightway crouched down behind a curtain and waited soberly. 

Nana welcomed Count Muffat, who, though still shaken with passion, wasnow somewhat embarrassed. She had pledged her word to him and wouldeven have liked to keep it since he struck her as a serious, practicablelover. But truly, who could have foreseen all that happened yesterday?There was the voyage and the house she had never set eyes on before andthe arrival of the drenched little lover! How sweet it had all seemed toher, and how delightful it would be to continue in it! So much theworse for the gentleman! For three months past she had been keepinghim dangling after her while she affected conventionality in order thefurther to inflame him. Well, well! He would have to continue dangling, and if he didn't like that he could go! She would sooner have thrown upeverything than have played false to Georges. 

The count had seated himself with all the ceremonious politenessbecoming a country caller. Only his hands were trembling slightly. Lust, which Nana's skillful tactics daily exasperated, had at last wroughtterrible havoc in that sanguine, uncontaminated nature. The graveman, the chamberlain who was wont to tread the state apartments at theTuileries with slow and dignified step, was now nightly driven to plungehis teeth into his bolster, while with sobs of exasperation he picturedto himself a sensual shape which never changed. But this time he wasdetermined to make an end of the torture. Coming along the highroadin the deep quiet of the gloaming, he had meditated a fierce course ofaction. And the moment he had finished his opening remarks he tried totake hold of Nana with both hands. 

"No, no! Take care!" she said simply. She was not vexed; nay, she evensmiled. 

He caught her again, clenching his teeth as he did so. Then as shestruggled to get free he coarsely and crudely reminded her that he hadcome to stay the night. Though much embarrassed at this, Nana did notcease to smile. She took his hands and spoke very familiarly in order tosoften her refusal. 

"Come now, darling, do be quiet! Honor bright, I can't: Steiner'supstairs. "

But he was beside himself. Never yet had she seen a man in such a state. She grew frightened and put her hand over his mouth in order to stiflehis cries. Then in lowered tones she besought him to be quiet and to lether alone. Steiner was coming downstairs. Things were getting stupid, tobe sure! When Steiner entered the room he heard Nana remarking:

"I adore the country. "

She was lounging comfortably back in her deep easy chair, and she turnedround and interrupted herself. 

"It's Monsieur le Comte Muffat, darling. He saw a light here while hewas strolling past, and he came in to bid us welcome. "

The two men clasped hands. Muffat, with his face in shadow, stood silentfor a moment or two. Steiner seemed sulky. Then they chatted aboutParis: business there was at a standstill; abominable things had beenhappening on 'change. When a quarter of an hour had elapsed Muffat tookhis departure, and, as the young woman was seeing him to the door, hetried without success to make an assignation for the following night. Steiner went up to bed almost directly afterward, grumbling, as he didso, at the everlasting little ailments that seemed to afflict the genuscourtesan. The two old boys had been packed off at last! When she wasable to rejoin him Nana found Georges still hiding exemplarily behindthe curtain. The room was dark. He pulled her down onto the floor as shesat near him, and together they began playfully rolling on the ground, stopping now and again and smothering their laughter with kisseswhenever they struck their bare feet against some piece of furniture. Far away, on the road to Gumieres, Count Muffat walked slowly home and, hat in hand, bathed his burning forehead in the freshness and silence ofthe night. 

During the days that followed Nana found life adorable. In the lad'sarms she was once more a girl of fifteen, and under the caressinginfluence of this renewed childhood love's white flower once moreblossomed forth in a nature which had grown hackneyed and disgusted inthe service of the other sex. She would experience sudden fits of shame, sudden vivid emotions, which left her trembling. She wanted to laugh andto cry, and she was beset by nervous, maidenly feelings, mingled withwarm desires that made her blush again. Never yet had she felt anythingcomparable to this. The country filled her with tender thoughts. As alittle girl she had long wished to dwell in a meadow, tending a goat, because one day on the talus of the fortifications she had seen a goatbleating at the end of its tether. Now this estate, this stretch of landbelonging to her, simply swelled her heart to bursting, so utterlyhad her old ambition been surpassed. Once again she tasted the novelsensations experienced by chits of girls, and at night when she wentupstairs, dizzy with her day in the open air and intoxicated by thescent of green leaves, and rejoined her Zizi behind the curtain, shefancied herself a schoolgirl enjoying a holiday escapade. It was anamour, she thought, with a young cousin to whom she was going to bemarried. And so she trembled at the slightest noise and dread lestparents should hear her, while making the delicious experiments andsuffering the voluptuous terrors attendant on a girl's first slip fromthe path of virtue. 

Nana in those days was subject to the fancies a sentimental girl willindulge in. She would gaze at the moon for hours. One night she had amind to go down into the garden with Georges when all the household wasasleep. When there they strolled under the trees, their arms round eachother's waists, and finally went and laid down in the grass, where thedew soaked them through and through. On another occasion, after a longsilence up in the bedroom, she fell sobbing on the lad's neck, declaringin broken accents that she was afraid of dying. She would often croon afavorite ballad of Mme Lerat's, which was full of flowers and birds. Thesong would melt her to tears, and she would break off in order to claspGeorges in a passionate embrace and to extract from him vows of undyingaffection. In short she was extremely silly, as she herself wouldadmit when they both became jolly good fellows again and sat up smokingcigarettes on the edge of the bed, dangling their bare legs over it thewhile and tapping their heels against its wooden side. 

But what utterly melted the young woman's heart was Louiset's arrival. She had an access of maternal affection which was as violent as a madfit. She would carry off her boy into the sunshine outside to watch himkicking about; she would dress him like a little prince and roll withhim in the grass. The moment he arrived she decided that he was tosleep near her, in the room next hers, where Mme Lerat, whom the countrygreatly affected, used to begin snoring the moment her head touchedthe pillow. Louiset did not hurt Zizi's position in the least. On thecontrary, Nana said that she had now two children, and she treated themwith the same wayward tenderness. At night, more than ten times running, she would leave Zizi to go and see if Louiset were breathing properly, but on her return she would re-embrace her Zizi and lavish on him thecaresses that had been destined for the child. She played at being Mammawhile he wickedly enjoyed being dandled in the arms of the great wenchand allowed himself to be rocked to and fro like a baby that is beingsent to sleep. It was all so delightful, and Nana was so charmed withher present existence, that she seriously proposed to him never to leavethe country. They would send all the other people away, and he, she andthe child would live alone. And with that they would make a thousandplans till daybreak and never once hear Mme Lerat as she snoredvigorously after the fatigues of a day spent in picking country flowers. 

This charming existence lasted nearly a week. Count Muffat used to comeevery evening and go away again with disordered face and burning hands. One evening he was not even received, as Steiner had been obliged to runup to Paris. He was told that Madame was not well. Nana grew daily moredisgusted at the notion of deceiving Georges. He was such an innocentlad, and he had such faith in her! She would have looked on herself asthe lowest of the low had she played him false. Besides, it would havesickened her to do so! Zoe, who took her part in this affair in mutedisdain, believed that Madame was growing senseless. 

On the sixth day a band of visitors suddenly blundered into Nana's idyl. She had, indeed, invited a whole swarm of people under the beliefthat none of them would come. And so one fine afternoon she was vastlyastonished and annoyed to see an omnibus full of people pulling upoutside the gate of La Mignotte. 

"It's us!" cried Mignon, getting down first from the conveyance andextracting then his sons Henri and Charles. 

Labordette thereupon appeared and began handing out an interminable fileof ladies--Lucy Stewart, Caroline Hequet, Tatan Nene, Maria Blond. Nanawas in hopes that they would end there, when La Faloise sprang from thestep in order to receive Gaga and her daughter Amelie in his tremblingarms. That brought the number up to eleven people. Their installationproved a laborious undertaking. There were five spare rooms at LaMignotte, one of which was already occupied by Mme Lerat and Louiset. The largest was devoted to the Gaga and La Faloise establishment, andit was decided that Amelie should sleep on a truckle bed in the dressingroom at the side. Mignon and his two sons had the third room. Labordettethe fourth. There thus remained one room which was transformed into adormitory with four beds in it for Lucy, Caroline, Tatan and Maria. Asto Steiner, he would sleep on the divan in the drawing room. At the endof an hour, when everyone was duly settled, Nana, who had begun by beingfurious, grew enchanted at the thought of playing hostess on a grandscale. The ladies complimented her on La Mignotte. "It's a stunningproperty, my dear!" And then, too, they brought her quite a whiff ofParisian air, and talking all together with bursts of laughter andexclamation and emphatic little gestures, they gave her all the pettygossip of the week just past. By the by, and how about Bordenave? Whathad he said about her prank? Oh, nothing much! After bawling abouthaving her brought back by the police, he had simply put somebody elsein her place at night. Little Violaine was the understudy, and she hadeven obtained a very pretty success as the Blonde Venus. Which piece ofnews made Nana rather serious. 

It was only four o'clock in the afternoon, and there was some talk oftaking a stroll around. 

"Oh, I haven't told you, " said Nana, "I was just off to get up potatoeswhen you arrived. "

Thereupon they all wanted to go and dig potatoes without even changingtheir dresses first. It was quite a party. The gardener and two helperswere already in the potato field at the end of the grounds. The ladiesknelt down and began fumbling in the mold with their beringed fingers, shouting gaily whenever they discovered a potato of exceptional size. Itstruck them as so amusing! But Tatan Nene was in a state of triumph!So many were the potatoes she had gathered in her youth that she forgotherself entirely and gave the others much good advice, treating themlike geese the while. The gentlemen toiled less strenuously. Mignonlooked every inch the good citizen and father and made his stay in thecountry an occasion for completing his boys' education. Indeed, he spoketo them of Parmentier!

Dinner that evening was wildly hilarious. The company ate ravenously. Nana, in a state of great elevation, had a warm disagreement with herbutler, an individual who had been in service at the bishop's palace inOrleans. The ladies smoked over their coffee. An earsplitting noise ofmerrymaking issued from the open windows and died out far away underthe serene evening sky while peasants, belated in the lanes, turned andlooked at the flaring rooms. 

"It's most tiresome that you're going back the day after tomorrow, " saidNana. "But never mind, we'll get up an excursion all the same!"

They decided to go on the morrow, Sunday, and visit the ruins of theold Abbey of Chamont, which were some seven kilometers distant. Fivecarriages would come out from Orleans, take up the company after lunchand bring them back to dinner at La Mignotte at about seven. It would bedelightful. 

That evening, as his wont was, Count Muffat mounted the hill to ring atthe outer gate. But the brightly lit windows and the shouts of laughterastonished him. When, however, he recognized Mignon's voice, heunderstood it all and went off, raging at this new obstacle, driven toextremities, bent on some violent act. Georges passed through a littledoor of which he had the key, slipped along the staircase walls andwent quietly up into Nana's room. Only he had to wait for her till pastmidnight. She appeared at last in a high state of intoxication andmore maternal even than on the previous nights. Whenever she had drunkanything she became so amorous as to be absurd. Accordingly she nowinsisted on his accompanying her to the Abbey of Chamont. But he stoodout against this; he was afraid of being seen. If he were to be seendriving with her there would be an atrocious scandal. But she burstinto tears and evinced the noisy despair of a slighted woman. And hethereupon consoled her and formally promised to be one of the party. 

"So you do love me very much, " she blurted out. "Say you love me verymuch. Oh, my darling old bear, if I were to die would you feel it verymuch? Confess!"

At Les Fondettes the near neighborhood of Nana had utterly disorganizedthe party. Every morning during lunch good Mme Hugon returned to thesubject despite herself, told her guests the news the gardener hadbrought her and gave evidence of the absorbing curiosity with whichnotorious courtesans are able to inspire even the worthiest old ladies. Tolerant though she was, she was revolted and maddened by a vaguepresentiment of coming ill, which frightened her in the evenings asthoroughly as if a wild beast had escaped from a menagerie and wereknown to be lurking in the countryside. 

She began trying to pick a little quarrel with her guests, whom she eachand all accused of prowling round La Mignotte. Count Vandeuvres had beenseen laughing on the highroad with a golden-haired lady, but he defendedhimself against the accusation; he denied that it was Nana, the factbeing that Lucy had been with him and had told him how she had justturned her third prince out of doors. The Marquis de Chouard used alsoto go out every day, but his excuse was doctor's orders. Toward Daguenetand Fauchery Mme Hugon behaved unjustly too. The former especially neverleft Les Fondettes, for he had given up the idea of renewing theold connection and was busy paying the most respectful attentions toEstelle. Fauchery also stayed with the Muffat ladies. On one occasiononly he had met Mignon with an armful of flowers, putting his sonsthrough a course of botanical instruction in a by-path. The two men hadshaken hands and given each other the news about Rose. She was perfectlywell and happy; they had both received a letter from her that morning inwhich she besought them to profit by the fresh country air for some dayslonger. Among all her guests the old lady spared only Count Muffat andGeorges. The count, who said he had serious business in Orleans, couldcertainly not be running after the bad woman, and as to Georges, thepoor child was at last causing her grave anxiety, seeing that everyevening he was seized with atrocious sick headaches which kept him tohis bed in broad daylight. 

Meanwhile Fauchery had become the Countess Sabine's faithful attendantin the absence during each afternoon of Count Muffat. Whenever theywent to the end of the park he carried her campstool and her sunshade. Besides, he amused her with the original witticisms peculiar to asecond-rate journalist, and in so doing he prompted her to one of thosesudden intimacies which are allowable in the country. She had apparentlyconsented to it from the first, for she had grown quite a girl againin the society of a young man whose noisy humor seemed unlikely tocompromise her. But now and again, when for a second or two they foundthemselves alone behind the shrubs, their eyes would meet; they wouldpause amid their laughter, grow suddenly serious and view one anotherdarkly, as though they had fathomed and divined their inmost hearts. 

On Friday a fresh place had to be laid at lunch time. M. TheophileVenot, whom Mme Hugon remembered to have invited at the Muffats' lastwinter, had just arrived. He sat stooping humbly forward and behavedwith much good nature, as became a man of no account, nor did he seemto notice the anxious deference with which he was treated. When he hadsucceeded in getting the company to forget his presence he sat nibblingsmall lumps of sugar during dessert, looking sharply up at Daguenet asthe latter handed Estelle strawberries and listening to Fauchery, whowas making the countess very merry over one of his anecdotes. Wheneveranyone looked at HIM he smiled in his quiet way. When the guests rosefrom table he took the count's arm and drew him into the park. He wasknown to have exercised great influence over the latter ever since thedeath of his mother. Indeed, singular stories were told about the kindof dominion which the ex-lawyer enjoyed in that household. Fauchery, whom his arrival doubtless embarrassed, began explaining to Georges andDaguenet the origin of the man's wealth. It was a big lawsuit with themanagement of which the Jesuits had entrusted him in days gone by. Inhis opinion the worthy man was a terrible fellow despite his gentle, plump face and at this time of day had his finger in all the intriguesof the priesthood. The two young men had begun joking at this, for theythought the little old gentleman had an idiotic expression. The ideaof an unknown Venot, a gigantic Venot, acting for the whole body of theclergy, struck them in the light of a comical invention. But theywere silenced when, still leaning on the old man's arm, Count Muffatreappeared with blanched cheeks and eyes reddened as if by recentweeping. 

"I bet they've been chatting about hell, " muttered Fauchery in abantering tone. 

The Countess Sabine overheard the remark. She turned her head slowly, and their eyes met in that long gaze with which they were accustomed tosound one another prudently before venturing once for all. 

After the breakfast it was the guests' custom to betake themselves toa little flower garden on a terrace overlooking the plain. This Sundayafternoon was exquisitely mild. There had been signs of rain toward tenin the morning, but the sky, without ceasing to be covered, had, as itwere, melted into milky fog, which now hung like a cloud of luminousdust in the golden sunlight. Soon Mme Hugon proposed that they shouldstep down through a little doorway below the terrace and take a walk onfoot in the direction of Gumieres and as far as the Choue. She wasfond of walking and, considering her threescore years, was very active. Besides, all her guests declared that there was no need to drive. Soin a somewhat straggling order they reached the wooden bridge over theriver. Fauchery and Daguenet headed the column with the Muffat ladiesand were followed by the count and the marquis, walking on either sideof Mme Hugon, while Vandeuvres, looking fashionable and out of hiselement on the highroad, marched in the rear, smoking a cigar. M. Venot, now slackening, now hastening his pace, passed smilingly from group togroup, as though bent on losing no scrap of conversation. 

"To think of poor dear Georges at Orleans!" said Mme Hugon. "He wasanxious to consult old Doctor Tavernier, who never goes out now, onthe subject of his sick headaches. Yes, you were not up, as he went offbefore seven o'clock. But it'll be a change for him all the same. "

She broke off, exclaiming:

"Why, what's making them stop on the bridge?"

The fact was the ladies and Fauchery and Daguenet were standingstock-still on the crown of the bridge. They seemed to be hesitating asthough some obstacle or other rendered them uneasy and yet the way layclear before them. 

"Go on!" cried the count. 

They never moved and seemed to be watching the approach of somethingwhich the rest had not yet observed. Indeed the road wound considerablyand was bordered by a thick screen of poplar trees. Nevertheless, a dullsound began to grow momentarily louder, and soon there was a noise ofwheels, mingled with shouts of laughter and the cracking of whips. Thensuddenly five carriages came into view, driving one behind the other. They were crowded to bursting, and bright with a galaxy of white, blueand pink costumes. 

"What is it?" said Mme Hugon in some surprise. 

Then her instinct told her, and she felt indignant at such an untowardinvasion of her road. 

"Oh, that woman!" she murmured. "Walk on, pray walk on. Don't appear tonotice. "

But it was too late. The five carriages which were taking Nana and hercircle to the ruins of Chamont rolled on to the narrow wooden bridge. Fauchery, Daguenet and the Muffat ladies were forced to step backward, while Mme Hugon and the others had also to stop in Indian file along theroadside. It was a superb ride past! The laughter in the carriages hadceased, and faces were turned with an expression of curiosity. Therival parties took stock of each other amid a silence broken only by themeasured trot of the horses. In the first carriage Maria Blond andTatan Nene were lolling backward like a pair of duchesses, their skirtsswelling forth over the wheels, and as they passed they cast disdainfulglances at the honest women who were walking afoot. Then came Gaga, filling up a whole seat and half smothering La Faloise beside herso that little but his small anxious face was visible. Next followedCaroline Hequet with Labordette, Lucy Stewart with Mignon and his boysand at the close of all Nana in a victoria with Steiner and on a bracketseat in front of her that poor, darling Zizi, with his knees jammedagainst her own. 

"It's the last of them, isn't it?" the countess placidly asked Fauchery, pretending at the same time not to recognize Nana. 

The wheel of the victoria came near grazing her, but she did not stepback. The two women had exchanged a deeply significant glance. It was, in fact, one of those momentary scrutinies which are at once completeand definite. As to the men, they behaved unexceptionably. Fauchery andDaguenet looked icy and recognized no one. The marquis, more nervousthan they and afraid of some farcical ebullition on the part of theladies, had plucked a blade of grass and was rolling it between hisfingers. Only Vandeuvres, who had stayed somewhat apart from the restof the company, winked imperceptibly at Lucy, who smiled at him as shepassed. 

"Be careful!" M. Venot had whispered as he stood behind Count Muffat. 

The latter in extreme agitation gazed after this illusive vision of Nanawhile his wife turned slowly round and scrutinized him. Then he casthis eyes on the ground as though to escape the sound of galloping hoofswhich were sweeping away both his senses and his heart. He could havecried aloud in his agony, for, seeing Georges among Nana's skirts, heunderstood it all now. A mere child! He was brokenhearted at the thoughtthat she should have preferred a mere child to him! Steiner was hisequal, but that child!

Mme Hugon, in the meantime, had not at once recognized Georges. Crossingthe bridge, he was fain to jump into the river, but Nana's kneesrestrained him. Then white as a sheet and icy cold, he sat rigidly up inhis place and looked at no one. It was just possible no one would noticehim. 

"Oh, my God!" said the old lady suddenly. "Georges is with her!"

The carriages had passed quite through the uncomfortable crowd of peoplewho recognized and yet gave no sign of recognition. The short criticalencounter seemed to have been going on for ages. And now the wheelswhirled away the carriageloads of girls more gaily than ever. Towardthe fair open country they went, amid the buffetings of the fresh airof heaven. Bright-colored fabrics fluttered in the wind, and the merrylaughter burst forth anew as the voyagers began jesting and glancingback at the respectable folks halting with looks of annoyance at theroadside. Turning round, Nana could see the walking party hesitating andthen returning the way they had come without crossing the bridge. MmeHugon was leaning silently on Count Muffat's arm, and so sad was herlook that no one dared comfort her. 

"I say, did you see Fauchery, dear?" Nana shouted to Lucy, who wasleaning out of the carriage in front. "What a brute he was! He shall payout for that. And Paul, too, a fellow I've been so kind to! Not a sign!They're polite, I'm sure. "

And with that she gave Steiner a terrible dressing, he having venturedto suggest that the gentlemen's attitude had been quite as it should be. So then they weren't even worth a bow? The first blackguard that cameby might insult them? Thanks! He was the right sort, too, he was! Itcouldn't be better! One ought always to bow to a woman. 

"Who's the tall one?" asked Lucy at random, shouting through the noiseof the wheels. 

"It's the Countess Muffat, " answered Steiner. 

"There now! I suspected as much, " said Nana. "Now, my dear fellow, it'sall very well her being a countess, for she's no better than she shouldbe. Yes, yes, she's no better that she should be. You know, I've got aneye for such things, I have! And now I know your countess as well as ifI had been at the making of her! I'll bet you that she's the mistress ofthat viper Fauchery! I tell you, she's his mistress! Between women youguess that sort of thing at once!"

Steiner shrugged his shoulders. Since the previous day his irritationhad been hourly increasing. He had received letters which necessitatedhis leaving the following morning, added to which he did not muchappreciate coming down to the country in order to sleep on thedrawing-room divan. 

"And this poor baby boy!" Nana continued, melting suddenly at sight ofGeorges's pale face as he still sat rigid and breathless in front ofher. 

"D'you think Mamma recognized me?" he stammered at last. 

"Oh, most surely she did! Why, she cried out! But it's my fault. Hedidn't want to come with us; I forced him to. Now listen, Zizi, wouldyou like me to write to your mamma? She looks such a kind, decent sortof lady! I'll tell her that I never saw you before and that it wasSteiner who brought you with him for the first time today. "

"No, no, don't write, " said Georges in great anxiety. "I'll explain itall myself. Besides, if they bother me about it I shan't go home again. "

But he continued plunged in thought, racking his brains for excusesagainst his return home in the evening. The five carriages were rollingthrough a flat country along an interminable straight road bordered byfine trees. The country was bathed in a silvery-gray atmosphere. Theladies still continued shouting remarks from carriage to carriage behindthe backs of the drivers, who chuckled over their extraordinary fares. Occasionally one of them would rise to her feet to look at the landscapeand, supporting herself on her neighbor's shoulder, would grow extremelyexcited till a sudden jolt brought her down to the seat again. CarolineHequet in the meantime was having a warm discussion with Labordette. Both of them were agreed that Nana would be selling her country housebefore three months were out, and Caroline was urging Labordette to buyit back for her for as little as it was likely to fetch. In frontof them La Faloise, who was very amorous and could not get at Gaga'sapoplectic neck, was imprinting kisses on her spine through her dress, the strained fabric of which was nigh splitting, while Amelie, perchingstiffly on the bracket seat, was bidding them be quiet, for she washorrified to be sitting idly by, watching her mother being kissed. Inthe next carriage Mignon, in order to astonish Lucy, was making his sonsrecite a fable by La Fontaine. Henri was prodigious at this exercise; hecould spout you one without pause or hesitation. But Maria Blond, at thehead of the procession, was beginning to feel extremely bored. She wastired of hoaxing that blockhead of a Tatan Nene with a story to theeffect that the Parisian dairywomen were wont to fabricate eggs witha mixture of paste and saffron. The distance was too great: werethey never going to get to their destination? And the question wastransmitted from carriage to carriage and finally reached Nana, who, after questioning her driver, got up and shouted:

"We've not got a quarter of an hour more to go. You see that churchbehind the trees down there?"

Then she continued:

"Do you know, it appears the owner of the Chateau de Chamont is an oldlady of Napoleon's time? Oh, SHE was a merry one! At least, so Josephtold me, and he heard it from the servants at the bishop's palace. There's no one like it nowadays, and for the matter of that, she'sbecome goody-goody. "

"What's her name?" asked Lucy. 

"Madame d'Anglars. "

"Irma d'Anglars--I knew her!" cried Gaga. 

Admiring exclamations burst from the line of carriages and were bornedown the wind as the horses quickened their trot. Heads were stretchedout in Gaga's direction; Maria Blond and Tatan Nene turned round andknelt on the seat while they leaned over the carriage hood, and the airwas full of questions and cutting remarks, tempered by a certain obscureadmiration. Gaga had known her! The idea filled them all with respectfor that far-off past. 

"Dear me, I was young then, " continued Gaga. "But never mind, I rememberit all. I saw her pass. They said she was disgusting in her own house, but, driving in her carriage, she WAS just smart! And the stunning talesabout her! Dirty doings and money flung about like one o'clock! I don'twonder at all that she's got a fine place. Why, she used to clean out aman's pockets as soon as look at him. Irma d'Anglars still in the landof the living! Why, my little pets, she must be near ninety. "

At this the ladies became suddenly serious. Ninety years old! The deuce, there wasn't one of them, as Lucy loudly declared, who would live tothat age. They were all done for. Besides, Nana said she didn't wantto make old bones; it wouldn't be amusing. They were drawing near theirdestination, and the conversation was interrupted by the cracking ofwhips as the drivers put their horses to their best paces. Yet amid allthe noise Lucy continued talking and, suddenly changing the subject, urged Nana to come to town with them all to-morrow. The exhibition wassoon to close, and the ladies must really return to Paris, where theseason was surpassing their expectations. But Nana was obstinate. Sheloathed Paris; she wouldn't set foot there yet!

"Eh, darling, we'll stay?" she said, giving Georges's knees a squeeze, as though Steiner were of no account. 

The carriages had pulled up abruptly, and in some surprise the companygot out on some waste ground at the bottom of a small hill. With hiswhip one of the drivers had to point them out the ruins of the old Abbeyof Chamont where they lay hidden among trees. It was a great sell! Theladies voted them silly. Why, they were only a heap of old stones withbriers growing over them and part of a tumble-down tower. It reallywasn't worth coming a couple of leagues to see that! Then the driverpointed out to them the countryseat, the park of which stretched awayfrom the abbey, and he advised them to take a little path and follow thewalls surrounding it. They would thus make the tour of the place whilethe carriages would go and await them in the village square. It was adelightful walk, and the company agreed to the proposition. 

"Lord love me, Irma knows how to take care of herself!" said Gaga, halting before a gate at the corner of the park wall abutting on thehighroad. 

All of them stood silently gazing at the enormous bush which stopped upthe gateway. Then following the little path, they skirted the park wall, looking up from time to time to admire the trees, whose lofty branchesstretched out over them and formed a dense vault of greenery. Afterthree minutes or so they found themselves in front of a second gate. Through this a wide lawn was visible, over which two venerable oakscast dark masses of shadow. Three minutes farther on yet another gateafforded them an extensive view of a great avenue, a perfect corridorof shadow, at the end of which a bright spot of sunlight gleamed likea star. They stood in silent, wondering admiration, and then little bylittle exclamations burst from their lips. They had been trying hard tojoke about it all with a touch of envy at heart, but this decidedly andimmeasurably impressed them. What a genius that Irma was! A sight likethis gave you a rattling notion of the woman! The trees stretched awayand away, and there were endlessly recurrent patches of ivy along thewall with glimpses of lofty roofs and screens of poplars interspersedwith dense masses of elms and aspens. Was there no end to it then? Theladies would have liked to catch sight of the mansion house, for theywere weary of circling on and on, weary of seeing nothing but leafyrecesses through every opening they came to. They took the rails of thegate in their hands and pressed their faces against the ironwork. Andthus excluded and isolated, a feeling of respect began to overcome themas they thought of the castle lost to view in surrounding immensity. Soon, being quite unused to walking, they grew tired. And the wall didnot leave off; at every turn of the small deserted path the same rangeof gray stones stretched ahead of them. Some of them began to despairof ever getting to the end of it and began talking of returning. But themore their long walk fatigued them, the more respectful they became, for at each successive step they were increasingly impressed by thetranquil, lordly dignity of the domain. 

"It's getting silly, this is!" said Caroline Hequet, grinding her teeth. 

Nana silenced her with a shrug. For some moments past she had beenrather pale and extremely serious and had not spoken a single word. Suddenly the path gave a final turn; the wall ended, and as they cameout on the village square the mansion house stood before them on thefarther side of its grand outer court. All stopped to admire the proudsweep of the wide steps, the twenty frontage windows, the arrangement ofthe three wings, which were built of brick framed by courses of stone. Henri IV had erewhile inhabited this historic mansion, and his room, with its great bed hung with Genoa velvet, was still preserved there. Breathless with admiration, Nana gave a little childish sigh. 

"Great God!" she whispered very quietly to herself. 

But the party were deeply moved when Gaga suddenly announced that Irmaherself was standing yonder in front of the church. She recognized herperfectly. She was as upright as of old, the hoary campaigner, and thatdespite her age, and she still had those eyes which flashed when shemoved in that proud way of hers! Vespers were just over, and for asecond or two Madame stood in the church porch. She was dressed in adark brown silk and looked very simple and very tall, her venerable facereminding one of some old marquise who had survived the horrors of theGreat Revolution. In her right hand a huge Book of Hours shone in thesunlight, and very slowly she crossed the square, followed some fifteenpaces off by a footman in livery. The church was emptying, and all theinhabitants of Chamont bowed before her with extreme respect. An oldman even kissed her hand, and a woman wanted to fall on her knees. Truly this was a potent queen, full of years and honors. She mounted herflight of steps and vanished from view. 

"That's what one attains to when one has methodical habits!" saidMignon with an air of conviction, looking at his sons and improving theoccasion. 

Then everybody said his say. Labordette thought her extraordinarily wellpreserved. Maria Blond let slip a foul expression and vexed Lucy, whodeclared that one ought to honor gray hairs. All the women, to sum up, agreed that she was a perfect marvel. Then the company got into theirconveyances again. From Chamont all the way to La Mignotte Nana remainedsilent. She had twice turned round to look back at the house, and now, lulled by the sound of the wheels, she forgot that Steiner was at herside and that Georges was in front of her. A vision had come up out ofthe twilight, and the great lady seemed still to be sweeping by with allthe majesty of a potent queen, full of years and of honors. 

That evening Georges re-entered Les Fondettes in time for dinner. Nana, who had grown increasingly absent-minded and singular in point ofmanner, had sent him to ask his mamma's forgiveness. It was his plainduty, she remarked severely, growing suddenly solicitous for thedecencies of family life. She even made him swear not to return for thenight; she was tired, and in showing proper obedience he was doing nomore than his duty. Much bored by this moral discourse, Georges appearedin his mother's presence with heavy heart and downcast head. 

Fortunately for him his brother Philippe, a great merry devil of amilitary man, had arrived during the day, a fact which greatly curtailedthe scene he was dreading. Mme Hugon was content to look at him witheyes full of tears while Philippe, who had been put in possession of thefacts, threatened to go and drag him home by the scruff of the neck ifever he went back into that woman's society. Somewhat comforted, Georgesbegan slyly planning how to make his escape toward two o'clock next dayin order to arrange about future meetings with Nana. 

Nevertheless, at dinnertime the house party at Les Fondettes seemed nota little embarrassed. Vandeuvres had given notice of departure, for hewas anxious to take Lucy back to Paris with him. He was amused at theidea of carrying off this girl whom he had known for ten years yet neverdesired. The Marquis de Chouard bent over his plate and meditated onGaga's young lady. He could well remember dandling Lili on his knee. What a way children had of shooting up! This little thing was becomingextremely plump! But Count Muffat especially was silent and absorbed. His cheeks glowed, and he had given Georges one long look. Dinner over, he went upstairs, intending to shut himself in his bedroom, his pretextbeing a slight feverish attack. M. Venot had rushed after him, andupstairs in the bedroom a scene ensued. The count threw himself upon thebed and strove to stifle a fit of nervous sobbing in the folds of thepillow while M. Venot, in a soft voice, called him brother and advisedhim to implore heaven for mercy. But he heard nothing: there was arattle in his throat. Suddenly he sprang off the bed and stammered:

"I am going there. I can't resist any longer. "

"Very well, " said the old man, "I go with you. "

As they left the house two shadows were vanishing into the dark depthsof a garden walk, for every evening now Fauchery and the Countess Sabineleft Daguenet to help Estelle make tea. Once on the highroad the countwalked so rapidly that his companion had to run in order to follow him. Though utterly out of breath, the latter never ceased showering on himthe most conclusive arguments against the temptations of the flesh. But the other never opened his mouth as he hurried away into the night. Arrived in front of La Mignotte, he said simply:

"I can't resist any longer. Go!"

"God's will be done then!" muttered M. Venot. "He uses every method toassure His final triumph. Your sin will become His weapon. "

At La Mignotte there was much wrangling during the evening meal. Nanahad found a letter from Bordenave awaiting her, in which he advisedrest, just as though he were anxious to be rid of her. Little Violaine, he said, was being encored twice nightly. But when Mignon continuedurging her to come away with them on the morrow Nana grew exasperatedand declared that she did not intend taking advice from anybody. Inother ways, too, her behavior at table was ridiculously stuck up. Mme Lerat having made some sharp little speech or other, she loudlyannounced that, God willing, she wasn't going to let anyone--no, noteven her own aunt--make improper remarks in her presence. After whichshe dreed her guests with honorable sentiments. She seemed to besuffering from a fit of stupid right-mindedness, and she treated themall to projects of religious education for Louiset and to a completescheme of regeneration for herself. When the company began laughing shegave vent to profound opinions, nodding her head like a grocer's wifewho knows what she is saying. Nothing but order could lead to fortune!And so far as she was concerned, she had no wish to die like a beggar!She set the ladies' teeth on edge. They burst out in protest. Couldanyone have been converting Nana? No, it was impossible! But she satquite still and with absent looks once more plunged into dreamland, where the vision of an extremely wealthy and greatly courted Nana roseup before her. 

The household were going upstairs to bed when Muffat put in anappearance. It was Labordette who caught sight of him in the garden. Heunderstood it all at once and did him a service, for he got Steiner outof the way and, taking his hand, led him along the dark corridor asfar as Nana's bedroom. In affairs of this kind Labordette was wontto display the most perfect tact and cleverness. Indeed, he seemeddelighted to be making other people happy. Nana showed no surprise; shewas only somewhat annoyed by the excessive heat of Muffat's pursuit. Life was a serious affair, was it not? Love was too silly: it led tonothing. Besides, she had her scruples in view of Zizi's tender age. Indeed, she had scarcely behaved quite fairly toward him. Dear me, yes, she was choosing the proper course again in taking up with an oldfellow. 

"Zoe, " she said to the lady's maid, who was enchanted at the thought ofleaving the country, "pack the trunks when you get up tomorrow. We aregoing back to Paris. "

And she went to bed with Muffat but experienced no pleasure. 

CHAPTER VII

One December evening three months afterward Count Muffat was strollingin the Passage des Panoramas. The evening was very mild, and owing to apassing shower, the passage had just become crowded with people. Therewas a perfect mob of them, and they thronged slowly and laboriouslyalong between the shops on either side. Under the windows, white withreflected light, the pavement was violently illuminated. A perfectstream of brilliancy emanated from white globes, red lanterns, bluetransparencies, lines of gas jets, gigantic watches and fans, outlinedin flame and burning in the open. And the motley displays in theshops, the gold ornaments of the jeweler's, the glass ornaments of theconfectioner's, the light-colored silks of the modiste's, seemed toshine again in the crude light of the reflectors behind the clearplate-glass windows, while among the bright-colored, disorderly arrayof shop signs a huge purple glove loomed in the distance like a bleedinghand which had been severed from an arm and fastened to a yellow cuff. 

Count Muffat had slowly returned as far as the boulevard. He glanced outat the roadway and then came sauntering back along the shopwindows. The damp and heated atmosphere filled the narrow passage with a slightluminous mist. Along the flagstones, which had been wet by the drip-dropof umbrellas, the footsteps of the crowd rang continually, but therewas no sound of voices. Passers-by elbowed him at every turn and castinquiring looks at his silent face, which the gaslight rendered pale. And to escape these curious manifestations the count posted himself infront of a stationer's, where with profound attention contemplated anarray of paperweights in the form of glass bowls containing floatinglandscapes and flowers. 

He was conscious of nothing: he was thinking of Nana. Why had she liedto him again? That morning she had written and told him not to troubleabout her in the evening, her excuse being that Louiset was ill and thatshe was going to pass the night at her aunt's in order to nurse him. But he had felt suspicious and had called at her house, where he learnedfrom the porter that Madame had just gone off to her theater. He wasastonished at this, for she was not playing in the new piece. Why thenshould she have told him this falsehood, and what could she be doingat the Varietes that evening? Hustled by a passer-by, the countunconsciously left the paperweights and found himself in front ofa glass case full of toys, where he grew absorbed over an array ofpocketbooks and cigar cases, all of which had the same blue swallowstamped on one corner. Nana was most certainly not the same woman! Inthe early days after his return from the country she used to drive himwild with delight, as with pussycat caresses she kissed him all roundhis face and whiskers and vowed that he was her own dear pet and theonly little man she adored. He was no longer afraid of Georges, whom hismother kept down at Les Fondettes. There was only fat Steiner to reckonwith, and he believed he was really ousting him, but he did not dareprovoke an explanation on his score. He knew he was once more in anextraordinary financial scrape and on the verge of being declaredbankrupt on 'change, so much so that he was clinging fiercely to theshareholders in the Landes Salt Pits and striving to sweat a finalsubscription out of them. Whenever he met him at Nana's she wouldexplain reasonably enough that she did not wish to turn him out of doorslike a dog after all he had spent on her. Besides, for the last threemonths he had been living in such a whirl of sensual excitementthat, beyond the need of possessing her, he had felt no very distinctimpressions. His was a tardy awakening of the fleshly instinct, achildish greed of enjoyment, which left no room for either vanity orjealousy. Only one definite feeling could affect him now, and that wasNana's decreasing kindness. She no longer kissed him on the beard! Itmade him anxious, and as became a man quite ignorant of womankind, hebegan asking himself what possible cause of offense he could have givenher. Besides, he was under the impression that he was satisfying allher desires. And so he harked back again and again to the letter he hadreceived that morning with its tissue of falsehoods, invented for theextremely simple purpose of passing an evening at her own theater. Thecrowd had pushed him forward again, and he had crossed the passage andwas puzzling his brain in front of the entrance to a restaurant, hiseyes fixed on some plucked larks and on a huge salmon laid out insidethe window. 

At length he seemed to tear himself away from this spectacle. He shookhimself, looked up and noticed that it was close on nine o'clock. Nanawould soon be coming out, and he would make her tell the truth. And withthat he walked on and recalled to memory the evenings he once passedin that region in the days when he used to meet her at the door of thetheater. 

He knew all the shops, and in the gas-laden air he recognized theirdifferent scents, such, for instance, as the strong savor of Russialeather, the perfume of vanilla emanating from a chocolate dealer'sbasement, the savor of musk blown in whiffs from the open doors ofthe perfumers. But he did not dare linger under the gaze of the paleshopwomen, who looked placidly at him as though they knew him by sight. For one instant he seemed to be studying the line of little roundwindows above the shops, as though he had never noticed them beforeamong the medley of signs. Then once again he went up to the boulevardand stood still a minute or two. A fine rain was now falling, and thecold feel of it on his hands calmed him. He thought of his wife who wasstaying in a country house near Macon, where her friend Mme de Chezelleshad been ailing a good deal since the autumn. The carriages in theroadway were rolling through a stream of mud. The country, he thought, must be detestable in such vile weather. But suddenly he became anxiousand re-entered the hot, close passage down which he strode among thestrolling people. A thought struck him: if Nana were suspicious of hispresence there she would be off along the Galerie Montmartre. 

After that the count kept a sharp lookout at the very door of thetheater, though he did not like this passage end, where he was afraid ofbeing recognized. It was at the corner between the Galerie des Varietesand the Galerie Saint-Marc, an equivocal corner full of obscure littleshops. Of these last one was a shoemaker's, where customers never seemedto enter. Then there were two or three upholsterers', deep in dust, anda smoky, sleepy reading room and library, the shaded lamps in which casta green and slumberous light all the evening through. There was neveranyone in this corner save well-dressed, patient gentlemen, who prowledabout the wreckage peculiar to a stage door, where drunken sceneshiftersand ragged chorus girls congregate. In front of the theater a singlegas jet in a ground-glass globe lit up the doorway. For a moment or twoMuffat thought of questioning Mme Bron; then he grew afraid lest Nanashould get wind of his presence and escape by way of the boulevard. Sohe went on the march again and determined to wait till he was turned outat the closing of the gates, an event which had happened on two previousoccasions. The thought of returning home to his solitary bed simplywrung his heart with anguish. Every time that golden-haired girls andmen in dirty linen came out and stared at him he returned to his post infront of the reading room, where, looking in between two advertisementsposted on a windowpane, he was always greeted by the same sight. Itwas a little old man, sitting stiff and solitary at the vast table andholding a green newspaper in his green hands under the green light ofone of the lamps. But shortly before ten o'clock another gentleman, atall, good-looking, fair man with well-fitting gloves, was also walkingup and down in front of the stage door. Thereupon at each successiveturn the pair treated each other to a suspicious sidelong glance. Thecount walked to the corner of the two galleries, which was adornedwith a high mirror, and when he saw himself therein, looking grave andelegant, he was both ashamed and nervous. 

Ten o'clock struck, and suddenly it occurred to Muffat that it would bevery easy to find out whether Nana were in her dressing room or not. He went up the three steps, crossed the little yellow-painted lobby andslipped into the court by a door which simply shut with a latch. At thathour of the night the narrow, damp well of a court, with its pestiferouswater closets, its fountain, its back view of the kitchen stove and thecollection of plants with which the portress used to litter the place, was drenched in dark mist; but the two walls, rising pierced withwindows on either hand, were flaming with light, since the property roomand the firemen's office were situated on the ground floor, withthe managerial bureau on the left, and on the right and upstairs thedressing rooms of the company. The mouths of furnaces seemed to beopening on the outer darkness from top to bottom of this well. The counthad at once marked the light in the windows of the dressing room on thefirst floor, and as a man who is comforted and happy, he forgot where hewas and stood gazing upward amid the foul mud and faint decaying smellpeculiar to the premises of this antiquated Parisian building. Big dropswere dripping from a broken waterspout, and a ray of gaslight slippedfrom Mme Bron's window and cast a yellow glare over a patch of moss-cladpavement, over the base of a wall which had been rotted by water from asink, over a whole cornerful of nameless filth amid which old pailsand broken crocks lay in fine confusion round a spindling tree growingmildewed in its pot. A window fastening creaked, and the count fled. 

Nana was certainly going to come down. He returned to his post in frontof the reading room; among its slumbering shadows, which seemed onlybroken by the glimmer of a night light, the little old man still satmotionless, his side face sharply outlined against his newspaper. Then Muffat walked again and this time took a more prolonged turn and, crossing the large gallery, followed the Galerie des Varietes as far asthat of Feydeau. The last mentioned was cold and deserted and buried inmelancholy shadow. He returned from it, passed by the theater, turnedthe corner of the Galerie Saint-Marc and ventured as far as the GalerieMontmartre, where a sugar-chopping machine in front of a grocer'sinterested him awhile. But when he was taking his third turn he wasseized with such dread lest Nana should escape behind his back that helost all self-respect. Thereupon he stationed himself beside the fairgentleman in front of the very theater. Both exchanged a glance offraternal humility with which was mingled a touch of distrust, for itwas possible they might yet turn out to be rivals. Some sceneshifterswho came out smoking their pipes between the acts brushed rudely againstthem, but neither one nor the other ventured to complain. Three bigwenches with untidy hair and dirty gowns appeared on the doorstep. Theywere munching apples and spitting out the cores, but the two menbowed their heads and patiently braved their impudent looks and roughspeeches, though they were hustled and, as it were, soiled by thesetrollops, who amused themselves by pushing each other down upon them. 

At that very moment Nana descended the three steps. She grew very palewhen she noticed Muffat. 

"Oh, it's you!" she stammered. 

The sniggering extra ladies were quite frightened when they recognizedher, and they formed in line and stood up, looking as stiff and seriousas servants whom their mistress has caught behaving badly. The tall fairgentleman had moved away; he was at once reassured and sad at heart. 

"Well, give me your arm, " Nana continued impatiently. 

They walked quietly off. The count had been getting ready to questionher and now found nothing to say. 

It was she who in rapid tones told a story to the effect that she hadbeen at her aunt's as late as eight o'clock, when, seeing Louiset verymuch better, she had conceived the idea of going down to the theater fora few minutes. 

"On some important business?" he queried. 

"Yes, a new piece, " she replied after some slight hesitation. "Theywanted my advice. "

He knew that she was not speaking the truth, but the warm touch of herarm as it leaned firmly on his own, left him powerless. He felt neitheranger nor rancor after his long, long wait; his one thought was to keepher where she was now that he had got hold of her. Tomorrow, and notbefore, he would try and find out what she had come to her dressing roomafter. But Nana still appeared to hesitate; she was manifestly a preyto the sort of secret anguish that besets people when they are tryingto regain lost ground and to initiate a plan of action. Accordingly, asthey turned the corner of the Galerie des Varietes, she stopped in frontof the show in a fan seller's window. 

"I say, that's pretty, " she whispered; "I mean that mother-of-pearlmount with the feathers. "

Then, indifferently:

"So you're seeing me home?"

"Of course, " he said, with some surprise, "since your child's better. "

She was sorry she had told him that story. Perhaps Louiset was passingthrough another crisis! She talked of returning to the Batignolles. But when he offered to accompany her she did not insist on going. For asecond or two she was possessed with the kind of white-hot fury whicha woman experiences when she feels herself entrapped and must, nevertheless, behave prettily. But in the end she grew resigned anddetermined to gain time. If only she could get rid of the count towardmidnight everything would happen as she wished. 

"Yes, it's true; you're a bachelor tonight, " she murmured. "Your wifedoesn't return till tomorrow, eh?"

"Yes, " replied Muffat. It embarrassed him somewhat to hear her talkingfamiliarly about the countess. 

But she pressed him further, asking at what time the train was due andwanting to know whether he were going to the station to meet her. Shehad begun to walk more slowly than ever, as though the shops interestedher very much. 

"Now do look!" she said, pausing anew before a jeweler's window, "what afunny bracelet!"

She adored the Passage des Panoramas. The tinsel of the ARTICLE DEPARIS, the false jewelry, the gilded zinc, the cardboard made to looklike leather, had been the passion of her early youth. It remained, andwhen she passed the shop-windows she could not tear herself away fromthem. It was the same with her today as when she was a ragged, slouching child who fell into reveries in front of the chocolate maker'ssweet-stuff shows or stood listening to a musical box in a neighboringshop or fell into supreme ecstasies over cheap, vulgarly designedknickknacks, such as nutshell workboxes, ragpickers' baskets for holdingtoothpicks, Vendome columns and Luxor obelisks on which thermometerswere mounted. But that evening she was too much agitated and looked atthings without seeing them. When all was said and done, it bored her tothink she was not free. An obscure revolt raged within her, and amid itall she felt a wild desire to do something foolish. It was a greatthing gained, forsooth, to be mistress of men of position! She had beendevouring the prince's substance and Steiner's, too, with her childishcaprices, and yet she had no notion where her money went. Even atthis time of day her flat in the Boulevard Haussmann was not entirelyfurnished. The drawing room alone was finished, and with its red satinupholsteries and excess of ornamentation and furniture it strucka decidedly false note. Her creditors, moreover, would now take totormenting her more than ever before whenever she had no money on hand, a fact which caused her constant surprise, seeing that she was wontto quote her self as a model of economy. For a month past that thiefSteiner had been scarcely able to pay up his thousand francs on theoccasions when she threatened to kick him out of doors in case he failedto bring them. As to Muffat, he was an idiot: he had no notion as towhat it was usual to give, and she could not, therefore, grow angry withhim on the score of miserliness. Oh, how gladly she would have turnedall these folks off had she not repeated to herself a score of timesdaily a whole string of economical maxims!

One ought to be sensible, Zoe kept saying every morning, and Nanaherself was constantly haunted by the queenly vision seen at Chamont. Ithad now become an almost religious memory with her, and through dint ofbeing ceaselessly recalled it grew even more grandiose. And for thesereasons, though trembling with repressed indignation, she now hungsubmissively on the count's arm as they went from window to window amongthe fast-diminishing crowd. The pavement was drying outside, and a coolwind blew along the gallery, swept the close hot air up beneath theglass that imprisoned it and shook the colored lanterns and the lines ofgas jets and the giant fan which was flaring away like a set piece in anillumination. At the door of the restaurant a waiter was putting out thegas, while the motionless attendants in the empty, glaring shops lookedas though they had dropped off to sleep with their eyes open. 

"Oh, what a duck!" continued Nana, retracing her steps as far asthe last of the shops in order to go into ecstasies over a porcelaingreyhound standing with raised forepaw in front of a nest hidden amongroses. 

At length they quitted the passage, but she refused the offer of a cab. It was very pleasant out she said; besides, they were in no hurry, andit would be charming to return home on foot. When they were in front ofthe Cafe Anglais she had a sudden longing to eat oysters. Indeed, she said that owing to Louiset's illness she had tasted nothing sincemorning. Muffat dared not oppose her. Yet as he did not in those dayswish to be seen about with her he asked for a private supper room andhurried to it along the corridors. She followed him with the air of awoman familiar with the house, and they were on the point of enteringa private room, the door of which a waiter held open, when from aneighboring saloon, whence issued a perfect tempest of shouts andlaughter, a man rapidly emerged. It was Daguenet. 

"By Jove, it's Nana!" he cried. 

The count had briskly disappeared into the private room, leaving thedoor ajar behind him. But Daguenet winked behind his round shoulders andadded in chaffing tones:

"The deuce, but you're doing nicely! You catch 'em in the Tuileriesnowadays!"

Nana smiled and laid a finger on her lips to beg him to be silent. Shecould see he was very much exalted, and yet she was glad to have methim, for she still felt tenderly toward him, and that despite the nastyway he had cut her when in the company of fashionable ladies. 

"What are you doing now?" she asked amicably. 

"Becoming respectable. Yes indeed, I'm thinking of getting married. "

She shrugged her shoulders with a pitying air. But he jokingly continuedto the effect that to be only just gaining enough on 'change to buyladies bouquets could scarcely be called an income, provided you wantedto look respectable too! His three hundred thousand francs had onlylasted him eighteen months! He wanted to be practical, and he was goingto marry a girl with a huge dowry and end off as a PREFET, like hisfather before him! Nana still smiled incredulously. She nodded in thedirection of the saloon: "Who are you with in there?"

"Oh, a whole gang, " he said, forgetting all about his projects underthe influence of returning intoxication. "Just think! Lea is telling usabout her trip in Egypt. Oh, it's screaming! There's a bathing story--"

And he told the story while Nana lingered complaisantly. They had endedby leaning up against the wall in the corridor, facing one another. Gasjets were flaring under the low ceiling, and a vague smell of cookeryhung about the folds of the hangings. Now and again, in order to heareach other's voices when the din in the saloon became louder than ever, they had to lean well forward. Every few seconds, however, a waiter withan armful of dishes found his passage barred and disturbed them. Butthey did not cease their talk for that; on the contrary, they stoodclose up to the walls and, amid the uproar of the supper party and thejostlings of the waiters, chatted as quietly as if they were by theirown firesides. 

"Just look at that, " whispered the young man, pointing to the door ofthe private room through which Muffat had vanished. 

Both looked. The door was quivering slightly; a breath of air seemed tobe disturbing it, and at last, very, very slowly and without the leastsound, it was shut to. They exchanged a silent chuckle. The count mustbe looking charmingly happy all alone in there!

"By the by, " she asked, "have you read Fauchery's article about me?"

"Yes, 'The Golden Fly, '" replied Daguenet; "I didn't mention it to youas I was afraid of paining you. "

"Paining me--why? His article's a very long one. "

She was flattered to think that the Figaro should concern itself abouther person. But failing the explanations of her hairdresser Francis, whohad brought her the paper, she would not have understood that it wasshe who was in question. Daguenet scrutinized her slyly, sneering in hischaffing way. Well, well, since she was pleased, everybody else ought tobe. 

"By your leave!" shouted a waiter, holding a dish of iced cheese in bothhands as he separated them. 

Nana had stepped toward the little saloon where Muffat was waiting. 

"Well, good-by!" continued Daguenet. "Go and find your cuckold again. "

But she halted afresh. 

"Why d'you call him cuckold?"

"Because he is a cuckold, by Jove!"

She came and leaned against the wall again; she was profoundlyinterested. 

"Ah!" she said simply. 

"What, d'you mean to say you didn't know that? Why, my dear girl, hiswife's Fauchery's mistress. It probably began in the country. Some timeago, when I was coming here, Fauchery left me, and I suspect he's got anassignation with her at his place tonight. They've made up a story abouta journey, I fancy. "

Overcome with surprise, Nana remained voiceless. 

"I suspected it, " she said at last, slapping her leg. "I guessed it bymerely looking at her on the highroad that day. To think of its beingpossible for an honest woman to deceive her husband, and with thatblackguard Fauchery too! He'll teach her some pretty things!"

"Oh, it isn't her trial trip, " muttered Daguenet wickedly. "Perhaps sheknows as much about it as he does. "

At this Nana gave vent to an indignant exclamation. 

"Indeed she does! What a nice world! It's too foul!"

"By your leave!" shouted a waiter, laden with bottles, as he separatedthem. 

Daguenet drew her forward again and held her hand for a second or two. He adopted his crystalline tone of voice, the voice with notes as sweetas those of a harmonica, which had gained him his success among theladies of Nana's type. 

"Good-by, darling! You know I love you always. "

She disengaged her hand from his, and while a thunder of shouts andbravos, which made the door in the saloon tremble again, almost drownedher words she smilingly remarked:

"It's over between us, stupid! But that doesn't matter. Do come up oneof these days, and we'll have a chat. "

Then she became serious again and in the outraged tones of a respectablewoman:

"So he's a cuckold, is he?" she cried. "Well, that IS a nuisance, dearboy. They've always sickened me, cuckolds have. "

When at length she went into the private room she noticed that Muffatwas sitting resignedly on a narrow divan with pale face and twitchinghands. He did not reproach her at all, and she, greatly moved, wasdivided between feelings of pity and of contempt. The poor man! To thinkof his being so unworthily cheated by a vile wife! She had a good mindto throw her arms round his neck and comfort him. But it was only fairall the same! He was a fool with women, and this would teach him alesson! Nevertheless, pity overcame her. She did not get rid of himas she had determined to do after the oysters had been discussed. Theyscarcely stayed a quarter of an hour in the Cafe Anglais, and togetherthey went into the house in the Boulevard Haussmann. It was then eleven. Before midnight she would have easily have discovered some means ofgetting rid of him kindly. 

In the anteroom, however, she took the precaution of giving Zoe anorder. "You'll look out for him, and you'll tell him not to make a noiseif the other man's still with me. "

"But where shall I put him, madame?"

"Keep him in the kitchen. It's more safe. "

In the room inside Muffat was already taking off his overcoat. A bigfire was burning on the hearth. It was the same room as of old, withits rosewood furniture and its hangings and chair coverings of figureddamask with the large blue flowers on a gray background. On twooccasions Nana had thought of having it redone, the first in blackvelvet, the second in white satin with bows, but directly Steinerconsented she demanded the money that these changes would cost simplywith a view to pillaging him. She had, indeed, only indulged in a tigerskin rug for the hearth and a cut-glass hanging lamp. 

"I'm not sleepy; I'm not going to bed, " she said the moment they wereshut in together. 

The count obeyed her submissively, as became a man no longer afraid ofbeing seen. His one care now was to avoid vexing her. 

"As you will, " he murmured. 

Nevertheless, he took his boots off, too, before seating himself infront of the fire. One of Nana's pleasures consisted in undressingherself in front of the mirror on her wardrobe door, which reflectedher whole height. She would let everything slip off her in turn and thenwould stand perfectly naked and gaze and gaze in complete oblivion ofall around her. Passion for her own body, ecstasy over her satin skinand the supple contours of her shape, would keep her serious, attentiveand absorbed in the love of herself. The hairdresser frequently foundher standing thus and would enter without her once turning to lookat him. Muffat used to grow angry then, but he only succeeded inastonishing her. What was coming over the man? She was doing it toplease herself, not other people. 

That particular evening she wanted to have a better view of herself, andshe lit the six candles attached to the frame of the mirror. But whileletting her shift slip down she paused. She had been preoccupied forsome moments past, and a question was on her lips. 

"You haven't read the Figaro article, have you? The paper's on thetable. " Daguenet's laugh had recurred to her recollections, and she washarassed by a doubt. If that Fauchery had slandered her she would berevenged. 

"They say that it's about me, " she continued, affecting indifference. "What's your notion, eh, darling?"

And letting go her shift and waiting till Muffat should have donereading, she stood naked. Muffat was reading slowly Fauchery's articleentitled "The Golden Fly, " describing the life of a harlot descendedfrom four or five generations of drunkards and tainted in her blood by acumulative inheritance of misery and drink, which in her case has takenthe form of a nervous exaggeration of the sexual instinct. She has shotup to womanhood in the slums and on the pavements of Paris, and tall, handsome and as superbly grown as a dunghill plant, she avenges thebeggars and outcasts of whom she is the ultimate product. With her therottenness that is allowed to ferment among the populace is carriedupward and rots the aristocracy. She becomes a blind power of nature, aleaven of destruction, and unwittingly she corrupts and disorganizesall Paris, churning it between her snow-white thighs as milk is monthlychurned by housewives. And it was at the end of this article that thecomparison with a fly occurred, a fly of sunny hue which has flown upout of the dung, a fly which sucks in death on the carrion tolerated bythe roadside and then buzzing, dancing and glittering like a preciousstone enters the windows of palaces and poisons the men within by merelysettling on them in her flight. 

Muffat lifted his head; his eyes stared fixedly; he gazed at the fire. 

"Well?" asked Nana. 

But he did not answer. It seemed as though he wanted to read the articleagain. A cold, shivering feeling was creeping from his scalp to hisshoulders. This article had been written anyhow. The phrases were wildlyextravagant; the unexpected epigrams and quaint collocations of wordswent beyond all bounds. Yet notwithstanding this, he was struck by whathe had read, for it had rudely awakened within him much that for monthspast he had not cared to think about. 

He looked up. Nana had grown absorbed in her ecstaticself-contemplation. She was bending her neck and was looking attentivelyin the mirror at a little brown mark above her right haunch. She wastouching it with the tip of her finger and by dint of bending backwardwas making it stand out more clearly than ever. Situated where itwas, it doubtless struck her as both quaint and pretty. After that shestudied other parts of her body with an amused expression and much ofthe vicious curiosity of a child. The sight of herself always astonishedher, and she would look as surprised and ecstatic as a young girl whohas discovered her puberty. Slowly, slowly, she spread out her arms inorder to give full value to her figure, which suggested the torso ofa plump Venus. She bent herself this way and that and examined herselfbefore and behind, stooping to look at the side view of her bosom andat the sweeping contours of her thighs. And she ended with a strangeamusement which consisted of swinging to right and left, her kneesapart and her body swaying from the waist with the perpetual jogging, twitching movements peculiar to an oriental dancer in the danse duventre. 

Muffat sat looking at her. She frightened him. The newspaper had droppedfrom his hand. For a moment he saw her as she was, and he despisedhimself. Yes, it was just that; she had corrupted his life; he alreadyfelt himself tainted to his very marrow by impurities hitherto undreamedof. Everything was now destined to rot within him, and in the twinklingof an eye he understood what this evil entailed. He saw the ruin broughtabout by this kind of "leaven"--himself poisoned, his family destroyed, a bit of the social fabric cracking and crumbling. And unable to takehis eyes from the sight, he sat looking fixedly at her, striving toinspire himself with loathing for her nakedness. 

Nana no longer moved. With an arm behind her neck, one hand clasped inthe other, and her elbows far apart, she was throwing back her head sothat he could see a foreshortened reflection of her half-closed eyes, her parted lips, her face clothed with amorous laughter. Her masses ofyellow hair were unknotted behind, and they covered her back with thefell of a lioness. 

Bending back thus, she displayed her solid Amazonian waist and firmbosom, where strong muscles moved under the satin texture of the skin. A delicate line, to which the shoulder and the thigh added their slightundulations, ran from one of her elbows to her foot, and Muffat's eyesfollowed this tender profile and marked how the outlines of the fairflesh vanished in golden gleams and how its rounded contours shone likesilk in the candlelight. He thought of his old dread of Woman, of theBeast of the Scriptures, at once lewd and wild. Nana was all coveredwith fine hair; a russet made her body velvety, while the Beast wasapparent in the almost equine development of her flanks, in the fleshyexuberances and deep hollows of her body, which lent her sex the mysteryand suggestiveness lurking in their shadows. She was, indeed, thatGolden Creature, blind as brute force, whose very odor ruined the world. Muffat gazed and gazed as a man possessed, till at last, when hehad shut his eyes in order to escape it, the Brute reappeared in thedarkness of the brain, larger, more terrible, more suggestive in itsattitude. Now, he understood, it would remain before his eyes, in hisvery flesh, forever. 

But Nana was gathering herself together. A little thrill of tendernessseemed to have traversed her members. Her eyes were moist; she tried, asit were, to make herself small, as though she could feel herself betterthus. Then she threw her head and bosom back and, melting, as it were, in one great bodily caress, she rubbed her cheeks coaxingly, firstagainst one shoulder, then against the other. Her lustful mouth breatheddesire over her limbs. She put out her lips, kissed herself long in theneighborhood of her armpit and laughed at the other Nana who also waskissing herself in the mirror. 

Then Muffat gave a long sigh. This solitary pleasure exasperated him. Suddenly all his resolutions were swept away as though by a mighty wind. In a fit of brutal passion he caught Nana to his breast and threw herdown on the carpet. 

"Leave me alone!" she cried. "You're hurting me!"

He was conscious of his undoing; he recognized in her stupidity, vileness and falsehood, and he longed to possess her, poisoned thoughshe was. 

"Oh, you're a fool!" she said savagely when he let her get up. 

Nevertheless, she grew calm. He would go now. She slipped on a nightgowntrimmed with lace and came and sat down on the floor in front of thefire. It was her favorite position. When she again questioned him aboutFauchery's article Muffat replied vaguely, for he wanted to avoid ascene. Besides, she declared that she had found a weak spot in Fauchery. And with that she relapsed into a long silence and reflected on how todismiss the count. She would have liked to do it in an agreeable way, for she was still a good-natured wench, and it bored her to cause otherspain, especially in the present instance where the man was a cuckold. The mere thought of his being that had ended by rousing her sympathies!

"So you expect your wife tomorrow morning?" she said at last. 

Muffat had stretched himself in an armchair. He looked drowsy, and hislimbs were tired. He gave a sign of assent. Nana sat gazing seriouslyat him with a dull tumult in her brain. Propped on one leg, among herslightly rumpled laces she was holding one of her bare feet between herhands and was turning it mechanically about and about. 

"Have you been married long?" she asked. 

"Nineteen years, " replied the count

"Ah! And is your wife amiable? Do you get on comfortably together?"

He was silent. Then with some embarrassment:

"You know I've begged you never to talk of those matters. "

"Dear me, why's that?" she cried, beginning to grow vexed directly. "I'msure I won't eat your wife if I DO talk about her. Dear boy, why, everywoman's worth--"

But she stopped for fear of saying too much. She contented herself byassuming a superior expression, since she considered herself extremelykind. The poor fellow, he needed delicate handling! Besides, she hadbeen struck by a laughable notion, and she smiled as she looked himcarefully over. 

"I say, " she continued, "I haven't told you the story about you thatFauchery's circulating. There's a viper, if you like! I don't bear himany ill will, because his article may be all right, but he's a regularviper all the same. "

And laughing more gaily than ever, she let go her foot and, crawlingalong the floor, came and propped herself against the count's knees. 

"Now just fancy, he swears you were still like a babe when you marriedyour wife. You were still like that, eh? Is it true, eh?"

Her eyes pressed for an answer, and she raised her hands to hisshoulders and began shaking him in order to extract the desiredconfession. 

"Without doubt, " he at last made answer gravely. 

Thereupon she again sank down at his feet. She was shaking withuproarious laughter, and she stuttered and dealt him little slaps. 

"No, it's too funny! There's no one like you; you're a marvel. But, mypoor pet, you must just have been stupid! When a man doesn't know--oh, it is so comical! Good heavens, I should have liked to have seen you!And it came off well, did it? Now tell me something about it! Oh, do, dotell me!"

She overwhelmed him with questions, forgetting nothing and requiring theveriest details. And she laughed such sudden merry peals which doubledher up with mirth, and her chemise slipped and got turned down to suchan extent, and her skin looked so golden in the light of the big fire, that little by little the count described to her his bridal night. He nolonger felt at all awkward. He himself began to be amused at last ashe spoke. Only he kept choosing his phrases, for he still had a certainsense of modesty. The young woman, now thoroughly interested, asked himabout the countess. According to his account, she had a marvelous figurebut was a regular iceberg for all that. 

"Oh, get along with you!" he muttered indolently. "You have no cause tobe jealous. "

Nana had ceased laughing, and she now resumed her former position and, with her back to the fire, brought her knees up under her chin with herclasped hands. Then in a serious tone she declared:

"It doesn't pay, dear boy, to look like a ninny with one's wife thefirst night. "

"Why?" queried the astonished count. 

"Because, " she replied slowly, assuming a doctorial expression. 

And with that she looked as if she were delivering a lecture and shookher head at him. In the end, however, she condescended to explainherself more lucidly. 

"Well, look here! I know how it all happens. Yes, dearie, women don'tlike a man to be foolish. They don't say anything because there's such athing as modesty, you know, but you may be sure they think about it fora jolly long time to come. And sooner or later, when a man's been anignoramus, they go and make other arrangements. That's it, my pet. "

He did not seem to understand. Whereupon she grew more definite still. She became maternal and taught him his lesson out of sheer goodnessof heart, as a friend might do. Since she had discovered him to bea cuckold the information had weighed on her spirits; she was madlyanxious to discuss his position with him. 

"Good heavens! I'm talking of things that don't concern me. I've saidwhat I have because everybody ought to be happy. We're having a chat, eh? Well then, you're to answer me as straight as you can. "

But she stopped to change her position, for she was burning herself. "It's jolly hot, eh? My back's roasted. Wait a second. I'll cook mytummy a bit. That's what's good for the aches!"

And when she had turned round with her breast to the fire and her feettucked under her:

"Let me see, " she said; "you don't sleep with your wife any longer?"

"No, I swear to you I don't, " said Muffat, dreading a scene. 

"And you believe she's really a stick?"

He bowed his head in the affirmative. 

"And that's why you love me? Answer me! I shan't be angry. "

He repeated the same movement. 

"Very well then, " she concluded. "I suspected as much! Oh, the poor pet. Do you know my aunt Lerat? When she comes get her to tell you the storyabout the fruiterer who lives opposite her. Just fancy that man--Damnit, how hot this fire is! I must turn round. I'm going to roast myleft side now. " And as she presented her side to the blaze a droll ideastruck her, and like a good-tempered thing, she made fun of herself forshe was delighted to see that she was looking so plump and pink in thelight of the coal fire. 

"I look like a goose, eh? Yes, that's it! I'm a goose on the spit, andI'm turning, turning and cooking in my own juice, eh?"

And she was once more indulging in a merry fit of laughter when a soundof voices and slamming doors became audible. Muffat was surprised, and he questioned her with a look. She grew serious, and an anxiousexpression came over her face. It must be Zoe's cat, a cursed beastthat broke everything. It was half-past twelve o'clock. How long was shegoing to bother herself in her cuckold's behalf? Now that the other manhad come she ought to get him out of the way, and that quickly. 

"What were you saying?" asked the count complaisantly, for he wascharmed to see her so kind to him. 

But in her desire to be rid of him she suddenly changed her mood, becamebrutal and did not take care what she was saying. 

"Oh yes! The fruiterer and his wife. Well, my dear fellow, they neveronce touched one another! Not the least bit! She was very keen on it, you understand, but he, the ninny, didn't know it. He was so greenthat he thought her a stick, and so he went elsewhere and took up withstreetwalkers, who treated him to all sorts of nastiness, while she, onher part, made up for it beautifully with fellows who were a lot slyerthan her greenhorn of a husband. And things always turn out that waythrough people not understanding one another. I know it, I do!"

Muffat was growing pale. At last he was beginning to understand herallusions, and he wanted to make her keep silence. But she was in fullswing. 

"No, hold your tongue, will you? If you weren't brutes you would be asnice with your wives as you are with us, and if your wives weren't geesethey would take as much pains to keep you as we do to get you. That'sthe way to behave. Yes, my duck, you can put that in your pipe and smokeit. "

"Do not talk of honest women, " he said in a hard voice. "You do not knowthem. "

At that Nana rose to her knees. 

"I don't know them! Why, they aren't even clean, your honest womenaren't! They aren't even clean! I defy you to find me one who woulddare show herself as I am doing. Oh, you make me laugh with your honestwomen. Don't drive me to it; don't oblige me to tell you things I mayregret afterward. "

The count, by way of answer, mumbled something insulting. Nana becamequite pale in her turn. For some seconds she looked at him withoutspeaking. Then in her decisive way:

"What would you do if your wife were deceiving you?"

He made a threatening gesture. 

"Well, and if I were to?"

"Oh, you, " he muttered with a shrug of his shoulders. 

Nana was certainly not spiteful. Since the beginning of the conversationshe had been strongly tempted to throw his cuckold's reputation in histeeth, but she had resisted. She would have liked to confess him quietlyon the subject, but he had begun to exasperate her at last. The matterought to stop now. 

"Well, then, my dearie, " she continued, "I don't know what you'regetting at with me. For two hours past you've been worrying my life out. Now do just go and find your wife, for she's at it with Fauchery. Yes, it's quite correct; they're in the Rue Taitbout, at the corner of theRue de Provence. You see, I'm giving you the address. "

Then triumphantly, as she saw Muffat stagger to his feet like an oxunder the hammer:

"If honest women must meddle in our affairs and take our sweetheartsfrom us--Oh, you bet they're a nice lot, those honest women!"

But she was unable to proceed. With a terrible push he had cast her fulllength on the floor and, lifting his heel, he seemed on the point ofcrushing in her head in order to silence her. For the twinkling of aneye she felt sickening dread. Blinded with rage, he had begun beatingabout the room like a maniac. Then his choking silence and the strugglewith which he was shaken melted her to tears. She felt a mortal regretand, rolling herself up in front of the fire so as to roast her rightside, she undertook the task of comforting him. 

"I take my oath, darling, I thought you knew it all. Otherwise Ishouldn't have spoken; you may be sure. But perhaps it isn't true. I don't say anything for certain. I've been told it, and people aretalking about it, but what does that prove? Oh, get along! You're verysilly to grow riled about it. If I were a man I shouldn't care a rushfor the women! All the women are alike, you see, high or low; they'reall rowdy and the rest of it. "

In a fit of self-abnegation she was severe on womankind, for she wishedthus to lessen the cruelty of her blow. But he did not listen to her orhear what she said. With fumbling movements he had put on his boots andhis overcoat. For a moment longer he raved round, and then in a finaloutburst, finding himself near the door, he rushed from the room. Nanawas very much annoyed. 

"Well, well! A prosperous trip to you!" she continued aloud, though shewas now alone. "He's polite, too, that fellow is, when he's spoken to!And I had to defend myself at that! Well, I was the first to get back mytemper and I made plenty of excuses, I'm thinking! Besides, he had beengetting on my nerves!"

Nevertheless, she was not happy and sat scratching her legs with bothhands. Then she took high ground:

"Tut, tut, it isn't my fault if he is a cuckold!"

And toasted on every side and as hot as a roast bird, she went andburied herself under the bedclothes after ringing for Zoe to usher inthe other man, who was waiting in the kitchen. 

Once outside, Muffat began walking at a furious pace. A fresh shower hadjust fallen, and he kept slipping on the greasy pavement. When he lookedmechanically up into the sky he saw ragged, soot-colored clouds scuddingin front of the moon. At this hour of the night passers-by werebecoming few and far between in the Boulevard Haussmann. He skirted theenclosures round the opera house in his search for darkness, and as hewent along he kept mumbling inconsequent phrases. That girl had beenlying. She had invented her story out of sheer stupidity and cruelty. Heought to have crushed her head when he had it under his heel. After allwas said and done, the business was too shameful. Never would he seeher; never would he touch her again, or if he did he would be miserablyweak. And with that he breathed hard, as though he were free oncemore. Oh, that naked, cruel monster, roasting away like any goose andslavering over everything that he had respected for forty years back. The moon had come out, and the empty street was bathed in white light. He felt afraid, and he burst into a great fit of sobbing, for he hadgrown suddenly hopeless and maddened as though he had sunk into afathomless void. 

"My God!" he stuttered out. "It's finished! There's nothing left now!"

Along the boulevards belated people were hurrying. He tried hard to becalm, and as the story told him by that courtesan kept recurring to hisburning consciousness, he wanted to reason the matter out. The countesswas coming up from Mme de Chezelles's country house tomorrow morning. Yet nothing, in fact, could have prevented her from returning to Paristhe night before and passing it with that man. He now began recallingto mind certain details of their stay at Les Fondettes. One evening, forinstance, he had surprised Sabine in the shade of some trees, when shewas so much agitated as to be unable to answer his questions. Theman had been present; why should she not be with him now? The more hethought about it the more possible the whole story became, and he endedby thinking it natural and even inevitable. While he was in his shirtsleeves in the house of a harlot his wife was undressing in her lover'sroom. Nothing could be simpler or more logical! Reasoning in thisway, he forced himself to keep cool. He felt as if there were a greatdownward movement in the direction of fleshly madness, a movement which, as it grew, was overcoming the whole world round about him. Warm imagespursued him in imagination. A naked Nana suddenly evoked a nakedSabine. At this vision, which seemed to bring them together in shamelessrelationship and under the influence of the same lusts, he literallystumbled, and in the road a cab nearly ran over him. Some women who hadcome out of a cafe jostled him amid loud laughter. Then a fit of weepingonce more overcame him, despite all his efforts to the contrary, and, not wishing to shed tears in the presence of others, he plunged intoa dark and empty street. It was the Rue Rossini, and along its silentlength he wept like a child. 

"It's over with us, " he said in hollow tones. "There's nothing left usnow, nothing left us now!"

He wept so violently that he had to lean up against a door as he buriedhis face in his wet hands. A noise of footsteps drove him away. He felta shame and a fear which made him fly before people's faces with therestless step of a bird of darkness. When passers-by met him on thepavement he did his best to look and walk in a leisurely way, for hefancied they were reading his secret in the very swing of his shoulders. He had followed the Rue de la Grange Bateliere as far as the Rue duFaubourg Montmartre, where the brilliant lamplight surprised him, and heretraced his steps. For nearly an hour he traversed the district thus, choosing always the darkest corners. Doubtless there was some goalwhither his steps were patiently, instinctively, leading him througha labyrinth of endless turnings. At length he lifted his eyes up it astreet corner. He had reached his destination, the point where the RueTaitbout and the Rue de la Provence met. He had taken an hour amid hispainful mental sufferings to arrive at a place he could have reachedin five minutes. One morning a month ago he remembered going up toFauchery's rooms to thank him for a notice of a ball at the Tuileries, in which the journalist had mentioned him. The flat was between theground floor and the first story and had a row of small square windowswhich were half hidden by the colossal signboard belonging to ashop. The last window on the left was bisected by a brilliant band oflamplight coming from between the half-closed curtains. And he remainedabsorbed and expectant, with his gaze fixed on this shining streak. 

The moon had disappeared in an inky sky, whence an icy drizzle wasfalling. Two o'clock struck at the Trinite. The Rue de Provence and theRue Taitbout lay in shadow, bestarred at intervals by bright splashesof light from the gas lamps, which in the distance were merged in yellowmist. Muffat did not move from where he was standing. That was the room. He remembered it now: it had hangings of red "andrinople, " and a LouisXIII bed stood at one end of it. The lamp must be standing on thechimney piece to the right. Without doubt they had gone to bed, forno shadows passed across the window, and the bright streak gleamed asmotionless as the light of a night lamp. With his eyes still upliftedhe began forming a plan; he would ring the bell, go upstairs despite theporter's remonstrances, break the doors in with a push of his shoulderand fall upon them in the very bed without giving them time to unlacetheir arms. For one moment the thought that he had no weapon upon himgave him pause, but directly afterward he decided to throttle them. Hereturned to the consideration of his project, and he perfected it whilewaiting for some sign, some indication, which should bring certaintywith it. 

Had a woman's shadow only shown itself at that moment he would haverung. But the thought that perhaps he was deceiving himself froze him. How could he be certain? Doubts began to return. His wife could not bewith that man. It was monstrous and impossible. Nevertheless, he stayedwhere he was and was gradually overcome by a species of torpor whichmerged into sheer feebleness while he waited long, and the fixity of hisgaze induced hallucinations. 

A shower was falling. Two policemen were approaching, and he was forcedto leave the doorway where he had taken shelter. When these were lost toview in the Rue de Provence he returned to his post, wet and shivering. The luminous streak still traversed the window, and this time he wasgoing away for good when a shadow crossed it. It moved so quickly thathe thought he had deceived himself. But first one and then another blackthing followed quickly after it, and there was a regular commotion inthe room. Riveted anew to the pavement, he experienced an intolerableburning sensation in his inside as he waited to find out the meaningof it all. Outlines of arms and legs flitted after one another, andan enormous hand traveled about with the silhouette of a water jug. Hedistinguished nothing clearly, but he thought he recognized a woman'sheaddress. And he disputed the point with himself; it might well havebeen Sabine's hair, only the neck did not seem sufficiently slim. Atthat hour of the night he had lost the power of recognition and ofaction. In this terrible agony of uncertainty his inside caused himsuch acute suffering that he pressed against the door in order to calmhimself, shivering like a man in rags, as he did so. Then seeing thatdespite everything he could not turn his eyes away from the window, hisanger changed into a fit of moralizing. He fancied himself a deputy; hewas haranguing an assembly, loudly denouncing debauchery, prophesyingnational ruin. And he reconstructed Fauchery's article on the poisonedfly, and he came before the house and declared that morals such asthese, which could only be paralleled in the days of the later RomanEmpire, rendered society an impossibility; that did him good. But theshadows had meanwhile disappeared. Doubtless they had gone to bed again, and, still watching, he continued waiting where he was. 

Three o'clock struck, then four, but he could not take his departure. When showers fell he buried himself in a corner of the doorway, his legssplashed with wet. Nobody passed by now, and occasionally his eyes wouldclose, as though scorched by the streak of light, which he kept watchingobstinately, fixedly, with idiotic persistence. On two subsequentoccasions the shadows flitted about, repeating the same gestures andagitating the silhouette of the same gigantic jug, and twice quiet wasre-established, and the night lamp again glowed discreetly out. Theseshadows only increased his uncertainty. Then, too, a sudden idea soothedhis brain while it postponed the decisive moment. After all, he had onlyto wait for the woman when she left the house. He could quite easilyrecognize Sabine. Nothing could be simpler, and there would be noscandal, and he would be sure of things one way or the other. It wasonly necessary to stay where he was. Among all the confused feelingswhich had been agitating him he now merely felt a dull need of certainknowledge. But sheer weariness and vacancy began lulling him to sleepunder his doorway, and by way of distraction he tried to reckon up howlong he would have to wait. Sabine was to be at the station towardnine o'clock; that meant about four hours and a half more. He was verypatient; he would even have been content not to move again, and he founda certain charm in fancying that his night vigil would last througheternity. 

Suddenly the streak of light was gone. This extremely simple event wasto him an unforeseen catastrophe, at once troublesome and disagreeable. Evidently they had just put the lamp out and were going to sleep. It wasreasonable enough at that hour, but he was irritated thereat, for nowthe darkened window ceased to interest him. He watched it for a quarterof an hour longer and then grew tired and, leaving the doorway, took aturn upon the pavement. Until five o'clock he walked to and fro, lookingupward from time to time. The window seemed a dead thing, and nowand then he asked himself if he had not dreamed that shadows had beendancing up there behind the panes. An intolerable sense of fatigueweighed him down, a dull, heavy feeling, under the influence of which heforgot what he was waiting for at that particular street corner. He keptstumbling on the pavement and starting into wakefulness with the icyshudder of a man who does not know where he is. Nothing seemed tojustify the painful anxiety he was inflicting on himself. Since thosepeople were asleep--well then, let them sleep! What good could itdo mixing in their affairs? It was very dark; no one would ever knowanything about this night's doings. And with that every sentiment withinhim, down to curiosity itself, took flight before the longing to havedone with it all and to find relief somewhere. The cold was increasing, and the street was becoming insufferable. Twice he walked away andslowly returned, dragging one foot behind the other, only to walkfarther away next time. It was all over; nothing was left him now, andso he went down the whole length of the boulevard and did not return. 

His was a melancholy progress through the streets. He walked slowly, never changing his pace and simply keeping along the walls of thehouses. 

His boot heels re-echoed, and he saw nothing but his shadow movingat his side. As he neared each successive gaslight it grew taller andimmediately afterward diminished. But this lulled him and occupied himmechanically. He never knew afterward where he had been; it seemed asif he had dragged himself round and round in a circle for hours. Onereminiscence only was very distinctly retained by him. Without his beingable to explain how it came about he found himself with his face pressedclose against the gate at the end of the Passage des Panoramas and histwo hands grasping the bars. He did not shake them but, his whole heartswelling with emotion, he simply tried to look into the passage. But hecould make nothing out clearly, for shadows flooded the whole lengthof the deserted gallery, and the wind, blowing hard down the RueSaint-Marc, puffed in his face with the damp breath of a cellar. For atime he tried doggedly to see into the place, and then, awakening fromhis dream, he was filled with astonishment and asked himself what hecould possibly be seeking for at that hour and in that position, for hehad pressed against the railings so fiercely that they had left theirmark on his face. Then he went on tramp once more. He was hopeless, and his heart was full of infinite sorrow, for he felt, amid all thoseshadows, that he was evermore betrayed and alone. 

Day broke at last. It was the murky dawn that follows winter nights andlooks so melancholy from muddy Paris pavements. Muffat had returned intothe wide streets, which were then in course of construction on eitherside of the new opera house. Soaked by the rain and cut up by cartwheels, the chalky soil had become a lake of liquid mire. But he neverlooked to see where he was stepping and walked on and on, slipping andregaining his footing as he went. The awakening of Paris, with its gangsof sweepers and early workmen trooping to their destinations, added tohis troubles as day brightened. People stared at him in surprise as hewent by with scared look and soaked hat and muddy clothes. For a longwhile he sought refuge against palings and among scaffoldings, hisdesolate brain haunted by the single remaining thought that he was verymiserable. 

Then he thought of God. The sudden idea of divine help, of superhumanconsolation, surprised him, as though it were something unforeseen andextraordinary. The image of M. Venot was evoked thereby, and he saw hislittle plump face and ruined teeth. Assuredly M. Venot, whom for monthshe had been avoiding and thereby rendering miserable, would be delightedwere he to go and knock at his door and fall weeping into his arms. Inthe old days God had been always so merciful toward him. At the leastsorrow, the slightest obstacle on the path of life, he had been wont toenter a church, where, kneeling down, he would humble his littleness inthe presence of Omnipotence. And he had been used to go forth thence, fortified by prayer, fully prepared to give up the good things of thisworld, possessed by the single yearning for eternal salvation. But atpresent he only practiced by fits and starts, when the terror of hellcame upon him. All kinds of weak inclinations had overcome him, andthe thought of Nana disturbed his devotions. And now the thought of Godastonished him. Why had he not thought of God before, in the hour ofthat terrible agony when his feeble humanity was breaking up in ruin?

Meanwhile with slow and painful steps he sought for a church. But he hadlost his bearings; the early hour had changed the face of thestreets. Soon, however, as he turned the corner of the Rue de laChaussee-d'Antin, he noticed a tower looming vaguely in the fog at theend of the Trinite Church. The white statues overlooking the bare gardenseemed like so many chilly Venuses among the yellow foliage of a park. Under the porch he stood and panted a little, for the ascent of the widesteps had tired him. Then he went in. The church was very cold, for itsheating apparatus had been fireless since the previous evening, andits lofty, vaulted aisles were full of a fine damp vapor which had comefiltering through the windows. The aisles were deep in shadow; not asoul was in the church, and the only sound audible amid the unlovelydarkness was that made by the old shoes of some verger or other who wasdragging himself about in sulky semiwakefulness. Muffat, however, afterknocking forlornly against an untidy collection of chairs, sank on hisknees with bursting heart and propped himself against the rails infront of a little chapel close by a font. He clasped his hands and begansearching within himself for suitable prayers, while his whole beingyearned toward a transport. But only his lips kept stammering emptywords; his heart and brain were far away, and with them he returned tothe outer world and began his long, unresting march through the streets, as though lashed forward by implacable necessity. And he kept repeating, "O my God, come to my assistance! O my God, abandon not Thy creature, who delivers himself up to Thy justice! O my God, I adore Thee: Thouwilt not leave me to perish under the buffetings of mine enemies!"Nothing answered: the shadows and the cold weighed upon him, and thenoise of the old shoes continued in the distance and prevented himpraying. Nothing, indeed, save that tiresome noise was audible in thedeserted church, where the matutinal sweeping was unknown before theearly masses had somewhat warmed the air of the place. After that herose to his feet with the help of a chair, his knees cracking underhim as he did so. God was not yet there. And why should he weep in M. Venot's arms? The man could do nothing. 

And then mechanically he returned to Nana's house. Outside he slipped, and he felt the tears welling to his eyes again, but he was not angrywith his lot--he was only feeble and ill. Yes, he was too tired; therain had wet him too much; he was nipped with cold, but the idea ofgoing back to his great dark house in the Rue Miromesnil froze hisheart. The house door at Nana's was not open as yet, and he had to waittill the porter made his appearance. He smiled as he went upstairs, for he already felt penetrated by the soft warmth of that cozy retreat, where he would be able to stretch his limbs and go to sleep. 

When Zoe opened the door to him she gave a start of most uneasyastonishment. Madame had been taken ill with an atrocious sick headache, and she hadn't closed her eyes all night. Still, she could quite go andsee whether Madame had gone to sleep for good. And with that she slippedinto the bedroom while he sank back into one of the armchairs in thedrawing room. But almost at that very moment Nana appeared. She hadjumped out of bed and had scarce had time to slip on a petticoat. Herfeet were bare, her hair in wild disorder, her nightgown all crumpled. 

"What! You here again?" she cried with a red flush on her cheeks. 

Up she rushed, stung by sudden indignation, in order herself to thrusthim out of doors. But when she saw him in such sorry plight--nay, soutterly done for--she felt infinite pity. 

"Well, you are a pretty sight, my dear fellow!" she continued moregently. "But what's the matter? You've spotted them, eh? And it's givenyou the hump?"

He did not answer; he looked like a broken-down animal. Nevertheless, she came to the conclusion that he still lacked proofs, and to heartenhim up the said:

"You see now? I was on the wrong tack. Your wife's an honest woman, onmy word of honor! And now, my little friend, you must go home to bed. You want it badly. "

He did not stir. 

"Now then, be off! I can't keep you here. But perhaps you won't presumeto stay at such a time as this?"

"Yes, let's go to bed, " he stammered. 

She repressed a violent gesture, for her patience was deserting her. Wasthe man going crazy?

"Come, be off!" she repeated. 

"No. "

But she flared up in exasperation, in utter rebellion. 

"It's sickening! Don't you understand I'm jolly tired of your company?Go and find your wife, who's making a cuckold of you. Yes, she's makinga cuckold of you. I say so--yes, I do now. There, you've got the sack!Will you leave me or will you not?"

Muffat's eyes filled with tears. He clasped his hands together. 

"Oh, let's go to bed!"

At this Nana suddenly lost all control over herself and was choked bynervous sobs. She was being taken advantage of when all was said anddone! What had these stories to do with her? She certainly had used allmanner of delicate methods in order to teach him his lesson gently. And now he was for making her pay the damages! No, thank you! She waskindhearted, but not to that extent. 

"The devil, but I've had enough of this!" she swore, bringing her fistdown on the furniture. "Yes, yes, I wanted to be faithful--it was all Icould do to be that! Yet if I spoke the word I could be rich tomorrow, my dear fellow!"

He looked up in surprise. Never once had he thought of the monetaryquestion. If she only expressed a desire he would realize it at once;his whole fortune was at her service. 

"No, it's too late now, " she replied furiously. "I like men who givewithout being asked. No, if you were to offer me a million for a singleinterview I should say no! It's over between us; I've got other fish tofry there! So be off or I shan't answer for the consequences. I shall dosomething dreadful!"

She advanced threateningly toward him, and while she was raving, asbecame a good courtesan who, though driven to desperation, was yetfirmly convinced of her rights and her superiority over tiresome, honestfolks, the door opened suddenly and Steiner presented himself. Thatproved the finishing touch. She shrieked aloud:

"Well, I never. Here's the other one!"

Bewildered by her piercing outcry, Steiner stopped short. Muffat'sunexpected presence annoyed him, for he feared an explanation and hadbeen doing his best to avoid it these three months past. With blinkingeyes he stood first on one leg, then on the other, looking embarrassedthe while and avoiding the count's gaze. He was out of breath, and asbecame a man who had rushed across Paris with good news, only tofind himself involved in unforeseen trouble, his face was flushed anddistorted. 

"Que veux-tu, toi?" asked Nana roughly, using the second person singularin open mockery of the count. 

"What--what do I--" he stammered. "I've got it for you--you know what. "

"Eh?"

He hesitated. The day before yesterday she had given him to understandthat if he could not find her a thousand francs to pay a bill with shewould not receive him any more. For two days he had been loafing aboutthe town in quest of the money and had at last made the sum up that verymorning. 

"The thousand francs!" he ended by declaring as he drew an envelope fromhis pocket. 

Nana had not remembered. 

"The thousand francs!" she cried. "D'you think I'm begging alms? Nowlook here, that's what I value your thousand francs at!"

And snatching the envelope, she threw it full in his face. As became aprudent Hebrew, he picked it up slowly and painfully and then looked atthe young woman with a dull expression of face. Muffat and he exchangeda despairing glance, while she put her arms akimbo in order to shoutmore loudly than before. 

"Come now, will you soon have done insulting me? I'm glad you've come, too, dear boy, because now you see the clearance'll be quite complete. Now then, gee up! Out you go!"

Then as they did not hurry in the least, for they were paralyzed:

"D'you mean to say I'm acting like a fool, eh? It's likely enough! Butyou've bored me too much! And, hang it all, I've had enough of swelldom!If I die of what I'm doing--well, it's my fancy!"

They sought to calm her; they begged her to listen to reason. 

"Now then, once, twice, thrice! Won't you go? Very well! Look there!I've got company. "

And with a brisk movement she flung wide the bedroom door. Whereupon inthe middle of the tumbled bed the two men caught sight of Fontan. He hadnot expected to be shown off in this situation; nevertheless, he tookthings very easily, for he was used to sudden surprises on the stage. Indeed, after the first shock he even hit upon a grimace calculatedto tide him honorably over his difficulty; he "turned rabbit, " as hephrased it, and stuck out his lips and wrinkled up his nose, so ascompletely to transform the lower half of his face. His base, satyrlikehead seemed to exude incontinence. It was this man Fontan then whom Nanahad been to fetch at the Varieties every day for a week past, forshe was smitten with that fierce sort of passion which the grimacingugliness of a low comedian is wont to inspire in the genus courtesan. 

"There!" she said, pointing him out with tragic gesture. 

Muffat, who hitherto had pocketed everything, rebelled at this affront. 

"Bitch!" he stammered. 

But Nana, who was once more in the bedroom, came back in order to havethe last word. 

"How am I a bitch? What about your wife?"

And she was off and, slamming the door with a bang, she noisily pushedto the bolt. Left alone, the two men gazed at one another in silence. Zoe had just come into the room, but she did not drive them out. Nay, she spoke to them in the most sensible manner. As became a woman with ahead on her shoulders, she decided that Madame's conduct was rather toomuch of a good thing. But she defended her, nonetheless: this union withthe play actor couldn't last; the madness must be allowed to pass off!The two men retired without uttering a sound. On the pavement outsidethey shook hands silently, as though swayed by a mutual sense offraternity. Then they turned their backs on one another and wentcrawling off in opposite directions. 

When at last Muffat entered his town house in the Rue Miromesnil hiswife was just arriving. The two met on the great staircase, whose wallsexhaled an icy chill. They lifted up their eyes and beheld one another. The count still wore his muddy clothes, and his pale, bewildered facebetrayed the prodigal returning from his debauch. The countess lookedas though she were utterly fagged out by a night in the train. She wasdropping with sleep, but her hair had been brushed anyhow, and her eyeswere deeply sunken. 

CHAPTER VIII

We are in a little set of lodgings on the fourth floor in the Rue Veronat Montmartre. Nana and Fontan have invited a few friends to cut theirTwelfth-Night cake with them. They are giving their housewarming, thoughthey have been only three days settled. 

They had no fixed intention of keeping house together, but the wholething had come about suddenly in the first glow of the honeymoon. After her grand blowup, when she had turned the count and the banker sovigorously out of doors, Nana felt the world crumbling about her feet. She estimated the situation at a glance; the creditors would swoopdown on her anteroom, would mix themselves up with her love affairs andthreaten to sell her little all unless she continued to act sensibly. Then, too, there would be no end of disputes and carking anxieties ifshe attempted to save her furniture from their clutches. And so shepreferred giving up everything. Besides, the flat in the BoulevardHaussmann was plaguing her to death. It was so stupid with its greatgilded rooms! In her access of tenderness for Fontan she began dreamingof a pretty little bright chamber. Indeed, she returned to the oldideals of the florist days, when her highest ambition was to have arosewood cupboard with a plate-glass door and a bed hung with blue"reps. " In the course of two days she sold what she could smuggle outof the house in the way of knickknacks and jewelry and then disappeared, taking with her ten thousand francs and never even warning the porter'swife. It was a plunge into the dark, a merry spree; never a trace wasleft behind. In this way she would prevent the men from coming danglingafter her. Fontain was very nice. He did not say no to anything but justlet her do as she liked. Nay, he even displayed an admirable spiritof comradeship. He had, on his part, nearly seven thousand francs, anddespite the fact that people accused him of stinginess, he consentedto add them to the young woman's ten thousand. The sum struck them asa solid foundation on which to begin housekeeping. And so they startedaway, drawing from their common hoard, in order to hire and furnish thetwo rooms in the Rue Veron, and sharing everything together like oldfriends. In the early days it was really delicious. 

On Twelfth Night Mme Lerat and Louiset were the first to arrive. AsFontan had not yet come home, the old lady ventured to give expressionto her fears, for she trembled to see her niece renouncing the chance ofwealth. 

"Oh, Aunt, I love him so dearly!" cried Nana, pressing her hands to herheart with the prettiest of gestures. 

This phrase produced an extraordinary effect on Mme Lerat, and tearscame into her eyes. 

"That's true, " she said with an air of conviction. "Love before allthings!"

And with that she went into raptures over the prettiness of the rooms. Nana took her to see the bedroom, the parlor and the very kitchen. Gracious goodness, it wasn't a vast place, but then, they had painted itafresh and put up new wallpapers. Besides, the sun shone merrily into itduring the daytime. 

Thereupon Mme Lerat detained the young woman in the bedroom, whileLouiset installed himself behind the charwoman in the kitchen in orderto watch a chicken being roasted. If, said Mme Lerat, she permittedherself to say what was in her mind, it was because Zoe had just beenat her house. Zoe had stayed courageously in the breach because she wasdevoted to her mistress. Madame would pay her later on; she was in noanxiety about that! And amid the breakup of the Boulevard Haussmannestablishment it was she who showed the creditors a bold front; it wasshe who conducted a dignified retreat, saving what she could from thewreck and telling everyone that her mistress was traveling. She neveronce gave them her address. Nay, through fear of being followed, she even deprived herself of the pleasure of calling on Madame. Nevertheless, that same morning she had run round to Mme Lerat's becausematters were taking a new turn. The evening before creditors in thepersons of the upholsterer, the charcoal merchant and the laundresshad put in an appearance and had offered to give Madame an extension oftime. Nay, they had even proposed to advance Madame a very considerableamount if only Madame would return to her flat and conduct herself likea sensible person. The aunt repeated Zoe's words. Without doubt therewas a gentleman behind it all. 

"I'll never consent!" declared Nana in great disgust. "Ah, they're apretty lot those tradesmen! Do they think I'm to be sold so that theycan get their bills paid? Why, look here, I'd rather die of hunger thandeceive Fontan. "

"That's what I said, " averred Mme Lerat. "'My niece, ' I said, 'is toonoble-hearted!'"

Nana, however, was much vexed to learn that La Mignotte was being soldand that Labordette was buying it for Caroline Hequet at an absurdly lowprice. It made her angry with that clique. Oh, they were a regular cheaplot, in spite of their airs and graces! Yes, by Jove, she was worth morethan the whole lot of them!

"They can have their little joke out, " she concluded, "but money willnever give them true happiness! Besides, you know, Aunt, I don't evenknow now whether all that set are alive or not. I'm much too happy. "

At that very moment Mme Maloir entered, wearing one of those hats ofwhich she alone understood the shape. It was delightful meeting again. Mme Maloir explained that magnificence frightened her and that NOW, from time to time, she would come back for her game of bezique. Asecond visit was paid to the different rooms in the lodgings, and in thekitchen Nana talked of economy in the presence of the charwoman, who wasbasting the fowl, and said that a servant would have cost too muchand that she was herself desirous of looking after things. Louiset wasgazing beatifically at the roasting process. 

But presently there was a loud outburst of voices. Fontan had come inwith Bosc and Prulliere, and the company could now sit down to table. The soup had been already served when Nana for the third time showed offthe lodgings. 

"Ah, dear children, how comfortable you are here!" Bosc kept repeating, simply for the sake of pleasing the chums who were standing the dinner. At bottom the subject of the "nook, " as he called it, nowise touchedhim. 

In the bedroom he harped still more vigorously on the amiable note. Ordinarily he was wont to treat women like cattle, and the idea of a manbothering himself about one of the dirty brutes excited within him theonly angry feelings of which, in his comprehensive, drunken disdain ofthe universe, he was still capable. 

"Ah, ah, the villains, " he continued with a wink, "they've done this onthe sly. Well, you were certainly right. It will be charming, and, byheaven, we'll come and see you!"

But when Louiset arrived on the scene astride upon a broomstick, Prulliere chuckled spitefully and remarked:

"Well, I never! You've got a baby already?"

This struck everybody as very droll, and Mme Lerat and Mme Maloir shookwith laughter. Nana, far from being vexed, laughed tenderly and saidthat unfortunately this was not the case. She would very much have likedit, both for the little one's sake and for her own, but perhaps onewould arrive all the same. Fontan, in his role of honest citizen, tookLouiset in his arms and began playing with him and lisping. 

"Never mind! It loves its daddy! Call me 'Papa, ' you little blackguard!"

"Papa, Papa!" stammered the child. 

The company overwhelmed him with caresses, but Bosc was bored and talkedof sitting down to table. That was the only serious business in life. Nana asked her guests' permission to put Louiset's chair next her own. The dinner was very merry, but Bosc suffered from the near neighborhoodof the child, from whom he had to defend his plate. Mme Lerat bored himtoo. She was in a melting mood and kept whispering to him all sorts ofmysterious things about gentlemen of the first fashion who were stillrunning after Nana. Twice he had to push away her knee, for she waspositively invading him in her gushing, tearful mood. Prulliere behavedwith great incivility toward Mme Maloir and did not once help her toanything. He was entirely taken up with Nana and looked annoyed atseeing her with Fontan. Besides, the turtle doves were kissing soexcessively as to be becoming positive bores. Contrary to all knownrules, they had elected to sit side by side. 

"Devil take it! Why don't you eat? You've got plenty of time ahead ofyou!" Bosc kept repeating with his mouth full. "Wait till we are gone!"

But Nana could not restrain herself. She was in a perfect ecstasy oflove. Her face was as full of blushes as an innocent young girl's, andher looks and her laughter seemed to overflow with tenderness. Gazing onFontan, she overwhelmed him with pet names--"my doggie, my old bear, my kitten"--and whenever he passed her the water or the salt she bentforward and kissed him at random on lips, eyes, nose or ear. Then ifshe met with reproof she would return to the attack with the cleverestmaneuvers and with infinite submissiveness and the supple cunning ofa beaten cat would catch hold of his hand when no one was looking, in order to kiss it again. It seemed she must be touching somethingbelonging to him. As to Fontan, he gave himself airs and let himselfbe adored with the utmost condescension. His great nose sniffed withentirely sensual content; his goat face, with its quaint, monstrousugliness, positively glowed in the sunlight of devoted adorationlavished upon him by that superb woman who was so fair and so plumpof limb. Occasionally he gave a kiss in return, as became a man who ishaving all the enjoyment and is yet willing to behave prettily. 

"Well, you're growing maddening!" cried Prulliere. "Get away from her, you fellow there!"

And he dismissed Fontan and changed covers, in order to take his placeat Nana's side. The company shouted and applauded at this and gave ventto some stiffish epigrammatic witticisms. Fontan counterfeiteddespair and assumed the quaint expression of Vulcan crying for Venus. Straightway Prulliere became very gallant, but Nana, whose foot he wasgroping for under the table, caught him a slap to make him keep quiet. No, no, she was certainly not going to become his mistress. A month agoshe had begun to take a fancy to him because of his good looks, but nowshe detested him. If he pinched her again under pretense of picking upher napkin, she would throw her glass in his face!

Nevertheless, the evening passed off well. The company had naturallybegun talking about the Varietes. Wasn't that cad of a Bordenave goingto go off the hooks after all? His nasty diseases kept reappearing andcausing him such suffering that you couldn't come within six yards ofhim nowadays. The day before during rehearsal he had been incessantlyyelling at Simonne. There was a fellow whom the theatrical peoplewouldn't shed many tears over. Nana announced that if he were to ask herto take another part she would jolly well send him to the rightabout. Moreover, she began talking of leaving the stage; the theater was notto compare with her home. Fontan, who was not in the present piece orin that which was then being rehearsed, also talked big about the joy ofbeing entirely at liberty and of passing his evenings with his feeton the fender in the society of his little pet. And at this the restexclaimed delightedly, treating their entertainers as lucky people andpretending to envy their felicity. 

The Twelfth-Night cake had been cut and handed round. The bean hadfallen to the lot of Mme Lerat, who popped it into Bosc's glass. Whereupon there were shouts of "The king drinks! The king drinks!" Nanatook advantage of this outburst of merriment and went and put her armsround Fontan's neck again, kissing him and whispering in his ear. ButPrulliere, laughing angrily, as became a pretty man, declared that theywere not playing the game. Louiset, meanwhile, slept soundly on twochairs. It was nearing one o'clock when the company separated, shoutingau revoir as they went downstairs. 

For three weeks the existence of the pair of lovers was really charming. Nana fancied she was returning to those early days when her first silkdress had caused her infinite delight. She went out little and affecteda life of solitude and simplicity. One morning early, when she had gonedown to buy fish IN PROPRIA PERSONA in La Rouchefoucauld Market, she wasvastly surprised to meet her old hair dresser Francis face to face. Hisgetup was as scrupulously careful as ever: he wore the finest linen, andhis frock coat was beyond reproach; in fact, Nana felt ashamed that heshould see her in the street with a dressing jacket and disordered hairand down-at-heel shoes. But he had the tact, if possible, to intensifyhis politeness toward her. He did not permit himself a single inquiryand affected to believe that Madame was at present on her travels. Ah, but Madame had rendered many persons unhappy when she decided to travel!All the world had suffered loss. The young woman, however, ended byasking him questions, for a sudden fit of curiosity had made her forgether previous embarrassment. Seeing that the crowd was jostling them, shepushed him into a doorway and, still holding her little basket in onehand, stood chatting in front of him. What were people saying about herhigh jinks? Good heavens! The ladies to whom he went said this and thatand all sorts of things. In fact, she had made a great noise and wasenjoying a real boom: And Steiner? M. Steiner was in a very bad way, would make an ugly finish if he couldn't hit on some new commercialoperation. And Daguenet? Oh, HE was getting on swimmingly. M. Daguenetwas settling down. Nana, under the exciting influence of variousrecollections, was just opening her mouth with a view to a furtherexamination when she felt it would be awkward to utter Muffat's name. Thereupon Francis smiled and spoke instead of her. As to Monsieur leComte, it was all a great pity, so sad had been his sufferings sinceMadame's departure. 

He had been like a soul in pain--you might have met him wherever Madamewas likely to be found. At last M. Mignon had come across him and hadtaken him home to his own place. This piece of news caused Nana to laugha good deal. But her laughter was not of the easiest kind. 

"Ah, he's with Rose now, " she said. "Well then, you must know, Francis, I've done with him! Oh, the canting thing! It's learned some prettyhabits--can't even go fasting for a week now! And to think that he usedto swear he wouldn't have any woman after me!"

She was raging inwardly. 

"My leavings, if you please!" she continued. "A pretty Johnnie for Roseto go and treat herself to! Oh, I understand it all now: she wanted tohave her revenge because I got that brute of a Steiner away from her. Ain't it sly to get a man to come to her when I've chucked him out ofdoors?"

"M. Mignon doesn't tell that tale, " said the hairdresser. "According tohis account, it was Monsieur le Comte who chucked you out. Yes, and in apretty disgusting way too--with a kick on the bottom!"

Nana became suddenly very pale. 

"Eh, what?" she cried. "With a kick on my bottom? He's going too far, heis! Look here, my little friend, it was I who threw him downstairs, thecuckold, for he is a cuckold, I must inform you. His countess is makinghim one with every man she meets--yes, even with that good-for-nothingof a Fauchery. And that Mignon, who goes loafing about the pavement inbehalf of his harridan of a wife, whom nobody wants because she's solean! What a foul lot! What a foul lot!"

She was choking, and she paused for breath

"Oh, that's what they say, is it? Very well, my little Francis, I'll goand look 'em up, I will. Shall you and I go to them at once? Yes, I'llgo, and we'll see whether they will have the cheek to go telling aboutkicks on the bottom. Kick's! I never took one from anybody! And nobody'sever going to strike me--d'ye see?--for I'd smash the man who laid afinger on me!"

Nevertheless, the storm subsided at last. After all, they might jollywell what they liked! She looked upon them as so much filth underfoot!It would have soiled her to bother about people like that. She had aconscience of her own, she had! And Francis, seeing her thus givingherself away, what with her housewife's costume and all, became familiarand, at parting, made so bold as to give her some good advice. Itwas wrong of her to be sacrificing everything for the sake of aninfatuation; such infatuations ruined existence. She listened to himwith bowed head while he spoke to her with a pained expression, asbecame a connoisseur who could not bear to see so fine a girl makingsuch a hash of things. 

"Well, that's my affair, " she said at last "Thanks all the same, dearboy. " She shook his hand, which despite his perfect dress was always alittle greasy, and then went off to buy her fish. During the day thatstory about the kick on the bottom occupied her thoughts. She even spokeabout it to Fontan and again posed as a sturdy woman who was notgoing to stand the slightest flick from anybody. Fontan, as became aphilosophic spirit, declared that all men of fashion were beasts whom itwas one's duty to despise. And from that moment forth Nana was full ofvery real disdain. 

That same evening they went to the Bouffes-Parisiens Theatre to see alittle woman of Fontan's acquaintance make her debut in a part of someten lines. It was close on one o'clock when they once more trudged upthe heights of Montmartre. They had purchased a cake, a "mocha, " inthe Rue de la Chaussee-d'Antin, and they ate it in bed, seeing that thenight was not warm and it was not worth while lighting a fire. Sittingup side by side, with the bedclothes pulled up in front and the pillowspiled up behind, they supped and talked about the little woman. Nanathought her plain and lacking in style. Fontan, lying on his stomach, passed up the pieces of cake which had been put between the candleand the matches on the edge of the night table. But they ended byquarreling. 

"Oh, just to think of it!" cried Nana. "She's got eyes like gimletholes, and her hair's the color of tow. "

"Hold your tongue, do!" said Fontan. "She has a superb head of hair andsuch fire in her looks! It's lovely the way you women always tear eachother to pieces!"

He looked annoyed. 

"Come now, we've had enough of it!" he said at last in savage tones. "You know I don't like being bored. Let's go to sleep, or things'll takea nasty turn. "

And he blew out the candle, but Nana was furious and went on talking. She was not going to be spoken to in that voice; she was accustomed tobeing treated with respect! As he did not vouchsafe any further answer, she was silenced, but she could not go to sleep and lay tossing to andfro. 

"Great God, have you done moving about?" cried he suddenly, giving abrisk jump upward. 

"It isn't my fault if there are crumbs in the bed, " she said curtly. 

In fact, there were crumbs in the bed. She felt them down to her middle;she was everywhere devoured by them. One single crumb was scorching herand making her scratch herself till she bled. Besides, when one eats acake isn't it usual to shake out the bedclothes afterward? Fontan, whitewith rage, had relit the candle, and they both got up and, barefootedand in their night dresses, they turned down the clothes and swept upthe crumbs on the sheet with their hands. Fontan went to bed again, shivering, and told her to go to the devil when she advised him to wipethe soles of his feet carefully. And in the end she came back to herold position, but scarce had she stretched herself out than she dancedagain. There were fresh crumbs in the bed!

"By Jove, it was sure to happen!" she cried. "You've brought them backagain under your feet. I can't go on like this! No, I tell you, I can'tgo on like this!"

And with that she was on the point of stepping over him in order to jumpout of bed again, when Fontan in his longing for sleep grew desperateand dealt her a ringing box on the ear. The blow was so smart that Nanasuddenly found herself lying down again with her head on the pillow. 

She lay half stunned. 

"Oh!" she ejaculated simply, sighing a child's big sigh. 

For a second or two he threatened her with a second slap, asking herat the same time if she meant to move again. Then he put out the light, settled himself squarely on his back and in a trice was snoring. But sheburied her face in the pillow and began sobbing quietly to herself. Itwas cowardly of him to take advantage of his superior strength! She hadexperienced very real terror all the same, so terrible had that quaintmask of Fontan's become. And her anger began dwindling down as thoughthe blow had calmed her. She began to feel respect toward him andaccordingly squeezed herself against the wall in order to leave himas much room as possible. She even ended by going to sleep, her cheektingling, her eyes full of tears and feeling so deliciously depressedand wearied and submissive that she no longer noticed the crumbs. Whenshe woke up in the morning she was holding Fontain in her naked arms andpressing him tightly against her breast. He would never begin it again, eh? Never again? She loved him too dearly. Why, it was even nice to bebeaten if he struck the blow!

After that night a new life began. For a mere trifle--a yes, ano--Fontan would deal her a blow. She grew accustomed to it and pocketedeverything. Sometimes she shed tears and threatened him, but he wouldpin her up against the wall and talk of strangling her, which had theeffect of rendering her extremely obedient. As often as not, she sankdown on a chair and sobbed for five minutes on end. But afterward shewould forget all about it, grow very merry, fill the little lodgingswith the sound of song and laughter and the rapid rustle of skirts. Theworst of it was that Fontan was now in the habit of disappearing for thewhole day and never returning home before midnight, for he was going tocafes and meeting his old friends again. Nana bore with everything. Shewas tremulous and caressing, her only fear being that she might neversee him again if she reproached him. But on certain days, when she hadneither Mme Maloir nor her aunt and Louiset with her, she grew mortallydull. Thus one Sunday, when she was bargaining for some pigeons at LaRochefoucauld Market, she was delighted to meet Satin, who, in her turn, was busy purchasing a bunch of radishes. Since the evening when theprince had drunk Fontan's champagne they had lost sight of one another. 

"What? It's you! D'you live in our parts?" said Satin, astounded atseeing her in the street at that hour of the morning and in slipperstoo. "Oh, my poor, dear girl, you're really ruined then!"

Nana knitted her brows as a sign that she was to hold her tongue, forthey were surrounded by other women who wore dressing gowns and werewithout linen, while their disheveled tresses were white with fluff. Inthe morning, when the man picked up overnight had been newly dismissed, all the courtesans of the quarter were wont to come marketing here, their eyes heavy with sleep, their feet in old down-at-heel shoes andthemselves full of the weariness and ill humor entailed by a nightof boredom. From the four converging streets they came down into themarket, looking still rather young in some cases and very pale andcharming in their utter unconstraint; in others, hideous and old withbloated faces and peeling skin. The latter did not the least mind beingseen thus outside working hours, and not one of them deigned to smilewhen the passers-by on the sidewalk turned round to look at them. Indeed, they were all very full of business and wore a disdainfulexpression, as became good housewives for whom men had ceased to exist. Just as Satin, for instance, was paying for her bunch of radishes ayoung man, who might have been a shop-boy going late to his work, threwher a passing greeting:

"Good morning, duckie. "

She straightened herself up at once and with the dignified mannerbecoming an offended queen remarked:

"What's up with that swine there?"

Then she fancied she recognized him. Three days ago toward midnight, asthe was coming back alone from the boulevards, she had talked to him atthe corner of the Rue Labruyere for nearly half an hour, with a view topersuading him to come home with her. But this recollection only angeredher the more. 

"Fancy they're brutes enough to shout things to you in broad daylight!"she continued. "When one's out on business one ought to be respectfullytreated, eh?"

Nana had ended by buying her pigeons, although she certainly had herdoubts of their freshness. After which Satin wanted to show her whereshe lived in the Rue Rochefoucauld close by. And the moment they werealone Nana told her of her passion for Fontan. Arrived in front of thehouse, the girl stopped with her bundle of radishes under her arm andlistened eagerly to a final detail which the other imparted to her. Nanafibbed away and vowed that it was she who had turned Count Muffat out ofdoors with a perfect hail of kicks on the posterior. 

"Oh how smart!" Satin repeated. "How very smart! Kicks, eh? And he neversaid a word, did he? What a blooming coward! I wish I'd been there tosee his ugly mug! My dear girl, you were quite right. A pin for thecoin! When I'M on with a mash I starve for it! You'll come and seeme, eh? You promise? It's the left-hand door. Knock three knocks, forthere's a whole heap of damned squints about. "

After that whenever Nana grew too weary of life she went down and sawSatin. She was always sure of finding her, for the girl never went outbefore six in the evening. Satin occupied a couple of rooms which achemist had furnished for her in order to save her from the clutchesof the police, but in little more than a twelvemonth she had broken thefurniture, knocked in the chairs, dirtied the curtains, and that in amanner so furiously filthy and untidy that the lodgings seemed as thoughinhabited by a pack of mad cats. On the mornings when she grew disgustedwith herself and thought about cleaning up a bit, chair rails andstrips of curtain would come off in her hands during her struggle withsuperincumbent dirt. On such days the place was fouler than ever, andit was impossible to enter it, owing to the things which had fallen downacross the doorway. At length she ended by leaving her house severelyalone. When the lamp was lit the cupboard with plate-glass doors, theclock and what remained of the curtains still served to impose on themen. Besides, for six months past her landlord had been threatening toevict her. Well then, for whom should she be keeping the furniture nice?For him more than anyone else, perhaps! And so whenever she got up in amerry mood she would shout "Gee up!" and give the sides of the cupboardand the chest of drawers such a tremendous kick that they cracked again. 

Nana nearly always found her in bed. Even on the days when Satin wentout to do her marketing she felt so tired on her return upstairs thatshe flung herself down on the bed and went to sleep again. During theday she dragged herself about and dozed off on chairs. Indeed, she didnot emerge from this languid condition till the evening drew on andthe gas was lit outside. Nana felt very comfortable at Satin's, sittingdoing nothing on the untidy bed, while basins stood about on the floorat her feet and petticoats which had been bemired last night hung overthe backs of armchairs and stained them with mud. They had long gossipstogether and were endlessly confidential, while Satin lay on her stomachin her nightgown, waving her legs above her head and smoking cigarettesas she listened. Sometimes on such afternoons as they had troubles toretail they treated themselves to absinthe in order, as they termedit, "to forget. " Satin did not go downstairs or put on a petticoat butsimply went and leaned over the banisters and shouted her order tothe portress's little girl, a chit of ten, who when she brought up theabsinthe in a glass would look furtively at the lady's bare legs. Everyconversation led up to one subject--the beastliness of the men. Nana wasoverpowering on the subject of Fontan. She could not say a dozen wordswithout lapsing into endless repetitions of his sayings and his doings. But Satin, like a good-natured girl, would listen unwearyingly toeverlasting accounts of how Nana had watched for him at the window, howthey had fallen out over a burnt dish of hash and how they had madeit up in bed after hours of silent sulking. In her desire to be alwaystalking about these things Nana had got to tell of every slap that hedealt her. Last week he had given her a swollen eye; nay, the nightbefore he had given her such a box on the ear as to throw her acrossthe night table, and all because he could not find his slippers. And theother woman did not evince any astonishment but blew out cigarette smokeand only paused a moment to remark that, for her part, she always duckedunder, which sent the gentleman pretty nearly sprawling. Both of themsettled down with a will to these anecdotes about blows; they grewsupremely happy and excited over these same idiotic doings aboutwhich they told one another a hundred times or more, while they gavethemselves up to the soft and pleasing sense of weariness which wassure to follow the drubbings they talked of. It was the delight ofrediscussing Fontan's blows and of explaining his works and his ways, down to the very manner in which he took off his boots, which broughtNana back daily to Satin's place. The latter, moreover, used to end bygrowing sympathetic in her turn and would cite even more violent cases, as, for instance, that of a pastry cook who had left her for dead onthe floor. Yet she loved him, in spite of it all! Then came the days onwhich Nana cried and declared that things could not go on as they weredoing. Satin would escort her back to her own door and would linger anhour out in the street to see that he did not murder her. And thenext day the two women would rejoice over the reconciliation the wholeafternoon through. Yet though they did not say so, they preferred thedays when threshings were, so to speak, in the air, for then theircomfortable indignation was all the stronger. 

They became inseparable. Yet Satin never went to Nana's, Fontan havingannounced that he would have no trollops in his house. They used to goout together, and thus it was that Satin one day took her friend to seeanother woman. This woman turned out to be that very Mme Robert who hadinterested Nana and inspired her with a certain respect ever since shehad refused to come to her supper. Mme Robert lived in the Rue Mosnier, a silent, new street in the Quartier de l'Europe, where there were noshops, and the handsome houses with their small, limited flats werepeopled by ladies. It was five o'clock, and along the silent pavementsin the quiet, aristocratic shelter of the tall white houses were drawnup the broughams of stock-exchange people and merchants, while menwalked hastily about, looking up at the windows, where women in dressingjackets seemed to be awaiting them. At first Nana refused to go up, remarking with some constraint that she had not the pleasure of thelady's acquaintance. But Satin would take no refusal. She was onlydesirous of paying a civil call, for Mme Robert, whom she had met in arestaurant the day before, had made herself extremely agreeable and hadgot her to promise to come and see her. And at last Nana consented. Atthe top of the stairs a little drowsy maid informed them that Madamehad not come home yet, but she ushered them into the drawing roomnotwithstanding and left them there. 

"The deuce, it's a smart show!" whispered Satin. It was a stiff, middle-class room, hung with dark-colored fabrics, and suggested theconventional taste of a Parisian shopkeeper who has retired on hisfortune. Nana was struck and did her best to make merry about it. ButSatin showed annoyance and spoke up for Mme Robert's strict adherenceto the proprieties. She was always to be met in the society of elderly, grave-looking men, on whose arms she leaned. At present she had aretired chocolate seller in tow, a serious soul. Whenever he came to seeher he was so charmed by the solid, handsome way in which the house wasarranged that he had himself announced and addressed its mistress as"dear child. "

"Look, here she is!" continued Satin, pointing to a photograph whichstood in front of the clock. Nana scrutinized the portrait for a secondor so. It represented a very dark brunette with a longish face and lipspursed up in a discreet smile. "A thoroughly fashionable lady, " onemight have said of the likeness, "but one who is rather more reservedthan the rest. "

"It's strange, " murmured Nana at length, "but I've certainly seen thatface somewhere. Where, I don't remember. But it can't have been in apretty place--oh no, I'm sure it wasn't in a pretty place. "

And turning toward her friend, she added, "So she's made you promise tocome and see her? What does she want with you?"

"What does she want with me? 'Gad! To talk, I expect--to be with me abit. It's her politeness. "

Nana looked steadily at Satin. "Tut, tut, " she said softly. After all, it didn't matter to her! Yet seeing that the lady was keeping themwaiting, she declared that she would not stay longer, and accordinglythey both took their departure. 

The next day Fontan informed Nana that he was not coming home to dinner, and she went down early to find Satin with a view to treating her at arestaurant. The choice of the restaurant involved infinite debate. Satinproposed various brewery bars, which Nana thought detestable, and atlast persuaded her to dine at Laure's. This was a table d'hote in theRue des Martyrs, where the dinner cost three francs. 

Tired of waiting for the dinner hour and not knowing what to do out inthe street, the pair went up to Laure's twenty minutes too early. Thethree dining rooms there were still empty, and they sat down at a tablein the very saloon where Laure Piedefer was enthroned on a high benchbehind a bar. This Laure was a lady of some fifty summers, whoseswelling contours were tightly laced by belts and corsets. Women keptentering in quick procession, and each, in passing, craned upward soas to overtop the saucers raised on the counter and kissed Laure on themouth with tender familiarity, while the monstrous creature tried, withtears in her eyes, to divide her attentions among them in such a way asto make no one jealous. On the other hand, the servant who waited on theladies was a tall, lean woman. She seemed wasted with disease, andher eyes were ringed with dark lines and glowed with somber fire. Veryrapidly the three saloons filled up. There were some hundred customers, and they had seated themselves wherever they could find vacant places. The majority were nearing the age of forty: their flesh was puffy and sobloated by vice as almost to hide the outlines of their flaccid mouths. But amid all these gross bosoms and figures some slim, pretty girls wereobservable. These still wore a modest expression despite their impudentgestures, for they were only beginners in their art, who had startedlife in the ballrooms of the slums and had been brought to Laure's bysome customer or other. Here the tribe of bloated women, excited by thesweet scent of their youth, jostled one another and, while treatingthem to dainties, formed a perfect court round them, much as old amorousbachelors might have done. As to the men, they were not numerous. Therewere ten or fifteen of them at the outside, and if we except four tallfellows who had come to see the sight and were cracking jokes and takingthings easy, they behaved humbly enough amid this whelming flood ofpetticoats. 

"I say, their stew's very good, ain't it?" said Satin. 

Nana nodded with much satisfaction. It was the old substantial dinneryou get in a country hotel and consisted of vol-au-vent a la financiere, fowl boiled in rice, beans with a sauce and vanilla creams, iced andflavored with burnt sugar. The ladies made an especial onslaught onthe boiled fowl and rice: their stays seemed about to burst; they wipedtheir lips with slow, luxurious movements. At first Nana had been afraidof meeting old friends who might have asked her silly questions, butshe grew calm at last, for she recognized no one she knew among thatextremely motley throng, where faded dresses and lamentable hatscontrasted strangely with handsome costumes, the wearers of whichfraternized in vice with their shabbier neighbors. She was momentarilyinterested, however, at the sight of a young man with short curlyhair and insolent face who kept a whole tableful of vastly fat womenbreathlessly attentive to his slightest caprice. But when the young manbegan to laugh his bosom swelled. 

"Good lack, it's a woman!"

She let a little cry escape as she spoke, and Satin, who was stuffingherself with boiled fowl, lifted up her head and whispered:

"Oh yes! I know her. A smart lot, eh? They do just fight for her. "

Nana pouted disgustingly. She could not understand the thing as yet. Nevertheless, she remarked in her sensible tone that there was nodisputing about tastes or colors, for you never could tell what youyourself might one day have a liking for. So she ate her cream with anair of philosophy, though she was perfectly well aware that Satin withher great blue virginal eyes was throwing the neighboring tables intoa state of great excitement. There was one woman in particular, apowerful, fair-haired person who sat close to her and made herselfextremely agreeable. She seemed all aglow with affection and pushedtoward the girl so eagerly that Nana was on the point of interfering. 

But at that very moment a woman who was entering the room gave her ashock of surprise. Indeed, she had recognized Mme Robert. The latter, looking, as was her wont, like a pretty brown mouse, nodded familiarlyto the tall, lean serving maid and came and leaned upon Laure's counter. Then both women exchanged a long kiss. Nana thought such an attention onthe part of a woman so distinguished looking very amusing, the more sobecause Mme Robert had quite altered her usual modest expression. Onthe contrary, her eye roved about the saloon as she kept up a whisperedconversation. Laure had resumed her seat and once more settled herselfdown with all the majesty of an old image of Vice, whose face has beenworn and polished by the kisses of the faithful. Above the range ofloaded plates she sat enthroned in all the opulence which a hotelkeeperenjoys after forty years of activity, and as she sat there she swayedher bloated following of large women, in comparison with the biggest ofwhom she seemed monstrous. 

But Mme Robert had caught sight of Satin, and leaving Laure, she ran upand behaved charmingly, telling her how much she regretted not havingbeen at home the day before. When Satin, however, who was ravished atthis treatment, insisted on finding room for her at the table, she vowedshe had already dined. She had simply come up to look about her. As shestood talking behind her new friend's chair she leaned lightly on hershoulders and in a smiling, coaxing manner remarked:

"Now when shall I see you? If you were free--"

Nana unluckily failed to hear more. The conversation vexed her, and shewas dying to tell this honest lady a few home truths. But the sight ofa troop of new arrivals paralyzed her. It was composed of smart, fashionably dressed women who were wearing their diamonds. Under theinfluence of perverse impulse they had made up a party to come toLaure's--whom, by the by, they all treated with great familiarity--toeat the three-franc dinner while flashing their jewels of great pricein the jealous and astonished eyes of poor, bedraggled prostitutes. Themoment they entered, talking and laughing in their shrill, clear tonesand seeming to bring sunshine with them from the outside world, Nanaturned her head rapidly away. Much to her annoyance she had recognizedLucy Stewart and Maria Blond among them, and for nearly five minutes, during which the ladies chatted with Laure before passing into thesaloon beyond, she kept her head down and seemed deeply occupied inrolling bread pills on the cloth in front of her. But when at length shewas able to look round, what was her astonishment to observe the chairnext to hers vacant! Satin had vanished. 

"Gracious, where can she be?" she loudly ejaculated. 

The sturdy, fair woman who had been overwhelming Satin with civilattentions laughed ill-temperedly, and when Nana, whom the laughirritated, looked threatening she remarked in a soft, drawling way:

"It's certainly not me that's done you this turn; it's the other one!"

Thereupon Nana understood that they would most likely make game of herand so said nothing more. She even kept her seat for some moments, asshe did not wish to show how angry she felt. She could hear Lucy Stewartlaughing at the end of the next saloon, where she was treating a wholetable of little women who had come from the public balls at Montmartreand La Chapelle. It was very hot; the servant was carrying away piles ofdirty plates with a strong scent of boiled fowl and rice, while the fourgentlemen had ended by regaling quite half a dozen couples with capitalwine in the hope of making them tipsy and hearing some pretty stiffishthings. What at present most exasperated Nana was the thought of payingfor Satin's dinner. There was a wench for you, who allowed herself tobe amused and then made off with never a thank-you in company with thefirst petticoat that came by! Without doubt it was only a matter ofthree francs, but she felt it was hard lines all the same--her way ofdoing it was too disgusting. Nevertheless, she paid up, throwing the sixfrancs at Laure, whom at the moment she despised more than the mud inthe street. In the Rue des Martyrs Nana felt her bitterness increasing. She was certainly not going to run after Satin! It was a nice filthybusiness for one to be poking one's nose into! But her evening wasspoiled, and she walked slowly up again toward Montmartre, ragingagainst Mme Robert in particular. Gracious goodness, that woman had afine cheek to go playing the lady--yes, the lady in the dustbin! She nowfelt sure she had met her at the Papillon, a wretched public-house ballin the Rue des Poissonniers, where men conquered her scruples for thirtysous. And to think a thing like that got hold of important functionarieswith her modest looks! And to think she refused suppers to which onedid her the honor of inviting her because, forsooth, she was playing thevirtuous game! Oh yes, she'd get virtued! It was always those conceitedprudes who went the most fearful lengths in low corners nobody knewanything about. 

Revolving these matters, Nana at length reached her home in the RueVeron and was taken aback on observing a light in the window. Fontan hadcome home in a sulk, for he, too, had been deserted by the friend whohad been dining with him. He listened coldly to her explanations whileshe trembled lest he should strike her. It scared her to find him athome, seeing that she had not expected him before one in the morning, and she told him a fib and confessed that she had certainly spent sixfrancs, but in Mme Maloir's society. He was not ruffled, however, andhe handed her a letter which, though addressed to her, he had quietlyopened. It was a letter from Georges, who was still a prisoner at LesFondettes and comforted himself weekly with the composition of glowingpages. Nana loved to be written to, especially when the letters werefull of grand, loverlike expressions with a sprinkling of vows. She usedto read them to everybody. Fontan was familiar with the style employedby Georges and appreciated it. But that evening she was so afraid ofa scene that she affected complete indifference, skimming through theletter with a sulky expression and flinging it aside as soon as read. Fontan had begun beating a tattoo on a windowpane; the thought of goingto bed so early bored him, and yet he did not know how to employ hisevening. He turned briskly round:

"Suppose we answer that young vagabond at once, " he said. 

It was the custom for him to write the letters in reply. He was wont tovie with the other in point of style. Then, too, he used to be delightedwhen Nana, grown enthusiastic after the letter had been read over aloud, would kiss him with the announcement that nobody but he could "saythings like that. " Thus their latent affections would be stirred, andthey would end with mutual adoration. 

"As you will, " she replied. "I'll make tea, and we'll go to bed after. "

Thereupon Fontan installed himself at the table on which pen, ink andpaper were at the same time grandly displayed. He curved his arm; hedrew a long face. 

"My heart's own, " he began aloud. 

And for more than an hour he applied himself to his task, polishinghere, weighing a phrase there, while he sat with his head between hishands and laughed inwardly whenever he hit upon a peculiarly tenderexpression. Nana had already consumed two cups of tea in silence, whenat last he read out the letter in the level voice and with the two orthree emphatic gestures peculiar to such performances on the stage. Itwas five pages long, and he spoke therein of "the delicious hours passedat La Mignotte, those hours of which the memory lingered like subtleperfume. " He vowed "eternal fidelity to that springtide of love" andended by declaring that his sole wish was to "recommence that happy timeif, indeed, happiness can recommence. "

"I say that out of politeness, y'know, " he explained. "The moment itbecomes laughable--eh, what! I think she's felt it, she has!"

He glowed with triumph. But Nana was unskillful; she still suspectedan outbreak and now was mistaken enough not to fling her arms roundhis neck in a burst of admiration. She thought the letter a respectableperformance, nothing more. Thereupon he was much annoyed. If his letterdid not please her she might write another! And so instead of burstingout in loverlike speeches and exchanging kisses, as their wont was, theysat coldly facing one another at the table. Nevertheless, she poured himout a cup of tea. 

"Here's a filthy mess, " he cried after dipping his lips in the mixture. "You've put salt in it, you have!"

Nana was unlucky enough to shrug her shoulders, and at that he grewfurious. 

"Aha! Things are taking a wrong turn tonight!"

And with that the quarrel began. It was only ten by the clock, and thiswas a way of killing time. So he lashed himself into a rage and threwin Nana's teeth a whole string of insults and all kinds of accusationswhich followed one another so closely that she had no time to defendherself. She was dirty; she was stupid; she had knocked about inall sorts of low places! After that he waxed frantic over the moneyquestion. Did he spend six francs when he dined out? No, somebody wastreating him to a dinner; otherwise he would have eaten his ordinarymeal at home. And to think of spending them on that old procuress of aMaloir, a jade he would chuck out of the house tomorrow! Yes, by jingo, they would get into a nice mess if he and she were to go throwing sixfrancs out of the window every day!

"Now to begin with, I want your accounts, " he shouted. "Let's see; handover the money! Now where do we stand?"

All his sordid avaricious instincts came to the surface. Nana was cowedand scared, and she made haste to fetch their remaining cash out ofthe desk and to bring it him. Up to that time the key had lain on thiscommon treasury, from which they had drawn as freely as they wished. 

"How's this?" he said when he had counted up the money. "There arescarcely seven thousand francs remaining out of seventeen thousand, andwe've only been together three months. The thing's impossible. "

He rushed forward, gave the desk a savage shake and brought the drawerforward in order to ransack it in the light of the lamp. But it actuallycontained only six thousand eight hundred and odd francs. Thereupon thetempest burst forth. 

"Ten thousand francs in three months!" he yelled. "By God! What have youdone with it all? Eh? Answer! It all goes to your jade of an aunt, eh?Or you're keeping men; that's plain! Will you answer?"

"Oh well, if you must get in a rage!" said Nana. "Why, the calculation'seasily made! You haven't allowed for the furniture; besides, I've had tobuy linen. Money goes quickly when one's settling in a new place. "

But while requiring explanations he refused to listen to them. 

"Yes, it goes a deal too quickly!" he rejoined more calmly. "And lookhere, little girl, I've had enough of this mutual housekeeping. You knowthose seven thousand francs are mine. Yes, and as I've got 'em, I shallkeep 'em! Hang it, the moment you become wasteful I get anxious not tobe ruined. To each man his own. "

And he pocketed the money in a lordly way while Nana gazed at him, dumfounded. He continued speaking complaisantly:

"You must understand I'm not such a fool as to keep aunts and likewisechildren who don't belong to me. You were pleased to spend your ownmoney--well, that's your affair! But my money--no, that's sacred! Whenin the future you cook a leg of mutton I'll pay for half of it. We'llsettle up tonight--there!"

Straightway Nana rebelled. She could not help shouting:

"Come, I say, it's you who've run through my ten thousand francs. It's adirty trick, I tell you!"

But he did not stop to discuss matters further, for he dealt her arandom box on the ear across the table, remarking as he did so:

"Let's have that again!"

She let him have it again despite his blow. Whereupon he fell upon herand kicked and cuffed her heartily. Soon he had reduced her to such astate that she ended, as her wont was, by undressing and going to bed ina flood of tears. 

He was out of breath and was going to bed, in his turn, when he noticedthe letter he had written to Georges lying on the table. Whereuponhe folded it up carefully and, turning toward the bed, remarked inthreatening accents:

"It's very well written, and I'm going to post it myself because I don'tlike women's fancies. Now don't go moaning any more; it puts my teeth onedge. "

Nana, who was crying and gasping, thereupon held her breath. When he wasin bed she choked with emotion and threw herself upon his breast with awild burst of sobs. Their scuffles always ended thus, for she trembledat the thought of losing him and, like a coward, wanted always to feelthat he belonged entirely to her, despite everything. Twice he pushedher magnificently away, but the warm embrace of this woman who wasbegging for mercy with great, tearful eyes, as some faithful brute mightdo, finally aroused desire. And he became royally condescending without, however, lowering his dignity before any of her advances. In fact, he let himself be caressed and taken by force, as became a man whoseforgiveness is worth the trouble of winning. Then he was seized withanxiety, fearing that Nana was playing a part with a view to regainingpossession of the treasury key. The light had been extinguished when hefelt it necessary to reaffirm his will and pleasure. 

"You must know, my girl, that this is really very serious and that Ikeep the money. "

Nana, who was falling asleep with her arms round his neck, uttered asublime sentiment. 

"Yes, you need fear nothing! I'll work for both of us!"

But from that evening onward their life in common became more and moredifficult. From one week's end to the other the noise of slaps filledthe air and resembled the ticking of a clock by which they regulatedtheir existence. Through dint of being much beaten Nana became aspliable as fine linen; her skin grew delicate and pink and white andso soft to the touch and clear to the view that she may be said to havegrown more good looking than ever. Prulliere, moreover, began runningafter her like a madman, coming in when Fontan was away and pushing herinto corners in order to snatch an embrace. But she used to struggle outof his grasp, full of indignation and blushing with shame. It disgustedher to think of him wanting to deceive a friend. Prulliere wouldthereupon begin sneering with a wrathful expression. Why, she wasgrowing jolly stupid nowadays! How could she take up with such an ape?For, indeed, Fontan was a regular ape with that great swingeing nose ofhis. Oh, he had an ugly mug! Besides, the man knocked her about too!

"It's possible I like him as he is, " she one day made answer in thequiet voice peculiar to a woman who confesses to an abominable taste. 

Bosc contented himself by dining with them as often as possible. Heshrugged his shoulders behind Prulliere's back--a pretty fellow, to besure, but a frivolous! Bosc had on more than one occasion assisted atdomestic scenes, and at dessert, when Fontan slapped Nana, he went onchewing solemnly, for the thing struck him as being quite in the courseof nature. In order to give some return for his dinner he used alwaysto go into ecstasies over their happiness. He declared himself aphilosopher who had given up everything, glory included. At timesPrulliere and Fontan lolled back in their chairs, losing count oftime in front of the empty table, while with theatrical gesturesand intonation they discussed their former successes till two in themorning. But he would sit by, lost in thought, finishing the brandybottle in silence and only occasionally emitting a little contemptuoussniff. Where was Talma's tradition? Nowhere. Very well, let them leavehim jolly well alone! It was too stupid to go on as they were doing!

One evening he found Nana in tears. She took off her dressing jacket inorder to show him her back and her arms, which were black and blue. Helooked at her skin without being tempted to abuse the opportunity, asthat ass of a Prulliere would have been. Then, sententiously:

"My dear girl, where there are women there are sure to be ructions. Itwas Napoleon who said that, I think. Wash yourself with salt water. Saltwater's the very thing for those little knocks. Tut, tut, you'll getothers as bad, but don't complain so long as no bones are broken. I'minviting myself to dinner, you know; I've spotted a leg of mutton. "

But Mme Lerat had less philosophy. Every time Nana showed her a freshbruise on the white skin she screamed aloud. They were killing herniece; things couldn't go on as they were doing. As a matter of fact, Fontan had turned Mme Lerat out of doors and had declared that he wouldnot have her at his house in the future, and ever since that day, whenhe returned home and she happened to be there, she had to makeoff through the kitchen, which was a horrible humiliation to her. Accordingly she never ceased inveighing against that brutal individual. She especially blamed his ill breeding, pursing up her lips, as shedid so, like a highly respectable lady whom nobody could possiblyremonstrate with on the subject of good manners. 

"Oh, you notice it at once, " she used to tell Nana; "he hasn't thebarest notion of the very smallest proprieties. His mother must havebeen common! Don't deny it--the thing's obvious! I don't speak on myown account, though a person of my years has a right to respectfultreatment, but YOU--how do YOU manage to put up with his bad manners?For though I don't want to flatter myself, I've always taught you howto behave, and among our own people you always enjoyed the best possibleadvice. We were all very well bred in our family, weren't we now?"

Nana used never to protest but would listen with bowed head. 

"Then, too, " continued the aunt, "you've only known perfect gentlemenhitherto. We were talking of that very topic with Zoe at my placeyesterday evening. She can't understand it any more than I can. 'How isit, ' she said, 'that Madame, who used to have that perfect gentleman, Monsieur le Comte, at her beck and call'--for between you and me, itseems you drove him silly--'how is it that Madame lets herself be madeinto mincemeat by that clown of a fellow?' I remarked at the time thatyou might put up with the beatings but that I would never have allowedhim to be lacking in proper respect. In fact, there isn't a word to besaid for him. I wouldn't have his portrait in my room even! And you ruinyourself for such a bird as that; yes, you ruin yourself, my darling;you toil and you moil, when there are so many others and such rich men, too, some of them even connected with the government! Ah well, it's notI who ought to be telling you this, of course! But all the same, whennext he tries any of his dirty tricks on I should cut him short with a'Monsieur, what d'you take me for?' You know how to say it in that grandway of yours! It would downright cripple him. "

Thereupon Nana burst into sobs and stammered out:

"Oh, Aunt, I love him!"

The fact of the matter was that Mme Lerat was beginning to feel anxiousat the painful way her niece doled out the sparse, occasional francsdestined to pay for little Louis's board and lodging. Doubtless she waswilling to make sacrifices and to keep the child by her whatever mighthappen while waiting for more prosperous times, but the thought thatFontan was preventing her and the brat and its mother from swimming ina sea of gold made her so savage that she was ready to deny the veryexistence of true love. Accordingly she ended up with the followingsevere remarks:

"Now listen, some fine day when he's taken the skin off your back, you'll come and knock at my door, and I'll open it to you. "

Soon money began to engross Nana's whole attention. Fontan had causedthe seven thousand francs to vanish away. Without doubt they were quitesafe; indeed, she would never have dared ask him questions about them, for she was wont to be blushingly diffident with that bird, as Mme Leratcalled him. She trembled lest he should think her capable of quarrelingwith him about halfpence. He had certainly promised to subscribe towardtheir common household expenses, and in the early days he had givenout three francs every morning. But he was as exacting as a boarder; hewanted everything for his three francs--butter, meat, early fruit andearly vegetables--and if she ventured to make an observation, if shehinted that you could not have everything in the market for threefrancs, he flew into a temper and treated her as a useless, wastefulwoman, a confounded donkey whom the tradespeople were robbing. Moreover, he was always ready to threaten that he would take lodgings somewhereelse. At the end of a month on certain mornings he had forgotten todeposit the three francs on the chest of drawers, and she had venturedto ask for them in a timid, roundabout way. Whereupon there had beensuch bitter disputes and he had seized every pretext to render her lifeso miserable that she had found it best no longer to count upon him. Whenever, however, he had omitted to leave behind the three one-francpieces and found a dinner awaiting him all the same, he grew as merryas a sandboy, kissed Nana gallantly and waltzed with the chairs. Andshe was so charmed by this conduct that she at length got to hope thatnothing would be found on the chest of drawers, despite the difficultyshe experienced in making both ends meet. One day she even returned himhis three francs, telling him a tale to the effect that she still hadyesterday's money. As he had given her nothing then, he hesitated forsome moments, as though he dreaded a lecture. But she gazed at him withher loving eyes and hugged him in such utter self-surrender that hepocketed the money again with that little convulsive twitch or thefingers peculiar to a miser when he regains possession of that which hasbeen well-nigh lost. From that day forth he never troubled himself aboutmoney again or inquired whence it came. But when there were potatoes onthe table he looked intoxicated with delight and would laugh and smackhis lips before her turkeys and legs of mutton, though of course thisdid not prevent his dealing Nana sundry sharp smacks, as though to keephis hand in amid all his happiness. 

Nana had indeed found means to provide for all needs, and the place oncertain days overflowed with good things. Twice a week, regularly, Boschad indigestion. One evening as Mme Lerat was withdrawing from the scenein high dudgeon because she had noticed a copious dinner she was notdestined to eat in process of preparation, she could not prevent herselfasking brutally who paid for it all. Nana was taken by surprise; shegrew foolish and began crying. 

"Ah, that's a pretty business, " said the aunt, who had divined hermeaning. 

Nana had resigned herself to it for the sake of enjoying peace in herown home. Then, too, the Tricon was to blame. She had come across herin the Rue de Laval one fine day when Fontan had gone out raging about adish of cod. She had accordingly consented to the proposals made her bythe Tricon, who happened just then to be in difficulty. As Fontan nevercame in before six o'clock, she made arrangements for her afternoons andused to bring back forty francs, sixty francs, sometimes more. She mighthave made it a matter of ten and fifteen louis had she been able tomaintain her former position, but as matters stood she was very gladthus to earn enough to keep the pot boiling. At night she used to forgetall her sorrows when Bosc sat there bursting with dinner and Fontanleaned on his elbows and with an expression of lofty superioritybecoming a man who is loved for his own sake allowed her to kiss him onthe eyelids. 

In due course Nana's very adoration of her darling, her dear old duck, which was all the more passionately blind, seeing that now she paid foreverything, plunged her back into the muddiest depths of her calling. She roamed the streets and loitered on the pavement in quest of afive-franc piece, just as when she was a slipshod baggage years ago. One Sunday at La Rochefoucauld Market she had made her peace with Satinafter having flown at her with furious reproaches about Mme Robert. ButSatin had been content to answer that when one didn't like a thing therewas no reason why one should want to disgust others with it. And Nana, who was by way of being wide-minded, had accepted the philosophic viewthat you never can tell where your tastes will lead you and had forgivenher. Her curiosity was even excited, and she began questioning her aboutobscure vices and was astounded to be adding to her information at hertime of life and with her knowledge. She burst out laughing and gavevent to various expressions of surprise. It struck her as so queer, and yet she was a little shocked by it, for she was really quite thephilistine outside the pale of her own habits. So she went back toLaure's and fed there when Fontan was dining out. She derived muchamusement from the stories and the amours and the jealousies whichinflamed the female customers without hindering their appetites in theslightest degree. Nevertheless, she still was not quite in it, as sheherself phrased it. The vast Laure, meltingly maternal as ever, usedoften to invite her to pass a day or two at her Asnieries Villa, acountry house containing seven spare bedrooms. But she used to refuse;she was afraid. Satin, however, swore she was mistaken about it, thatgentlemen from Paris swung you in swings and played tonneau withyou, and so she promised to come at some future time when it would bepossible for her to leave town. 

At that time Nana was much tormented by circumstances and not at allfestively inclined. She needed money, and when the Tricon did not wanther, which too often happened, she had no notion where to bestow hercharms. Then began a series of wild descents upon the Parisian pavement, plunges into the baser sort of vice, whose votaries prowl in muddybystreets under the restless flicker of gas lamps. Nana went back to thepublic-house balls in the suburbs, where she had kicked up her heelsin the early ill-shod days. She revisited the dark corners on the outerboulevards, where when she was fifteen years old men used to hug herwhile her father was looking for her in order to give her a hiding. Boththe women would speed along, visiting all the ballrooms and restaurantsin a quarter and climbing innumerable staircases which were wet withspittle and spilled beer, or they would stroll quietly about, going upstreets and planting themselves in front of carriage gates. Satin, whohad served her apprenticeship in the Quartier Latin, used to take Nanato Bullier's and the public houses in the Boulevard Saint-Michel. Butthe vacations were drawing on, and the Quarter looked too starved. Eventually they always returned to the principal boulevards, for it wasthere they ran the best chance of getting what they wanted. From theheights of Montmartre to the observatory plateau they scoured thewhole town in the way we have been describing. They were out on rainyevenings, when their boots got worn down, and on hot evenings, whentheir linen clung to their skins. There were long periods of waiting andendless periods of walking; there were jostlings and disputes and thenameless, brutal caresses of the stray passer-by who was taken by themto some miserable furnished room and came swearing down the greasystairs afterward. 

The summer was drawing to a close, a stormy summer of burning nights. The pair used to start out together after dinner, toward nine o'clock. On the pavements of the Rue Notre Dame de la Lorette two long files ofwomen scudded along with tucked-up skirts and bent heads, keeping closeto the shops but never once glancing at the displays in the shopwindowsas they hurried busily down toward the boulevards. This was the hungryexodus from the Quartier Breda which took place nightly when the streetlamps had just been lit. Nana and Satin used to skirt the church andthen march off along the Rue le Peletier. When they were some hundredyards from the Cafe Riche and had fairly reached their scene ofoperations they would shake out the skirts of their dresses, which uptill that moment they had been holding carefully up, and begin sweepingthe pavements, regardless of dust. With much swaying of the hips theystrolled delicately along, slackening their pace when they crossed thebright light thrown from one of the great cafes. With shoulders thrownback, shrill and noisy laughter and many backward glances at the men whoturned to look at them, they marched about and were completely in theirelement. In the shadow of night their artificially whitened faces, theirrouged lips and their darkened eyelids became as charming and suggestiveas if the inmates of a make-believe trumpery oriental bazaar had beensent forth into the open street. Till eleven at night they saunteredgaily along among the rudely jostling crowds, contenting themselves withan occasional "dirty ass!" hurled after the clumsy people whose bootheels had torn a flounce or two from their dresses. Little familiarsalutations would pass between them and the cafe waiters, and at timesthey would stop and chat in front of a small table and accept of drinks, which they consumed with much deliberation, as became people not sorryto sit down for a bit while waiting for the theaters to empty. But asnight advanced, if they had not made one or two trips in the directionof the Rue la Rochefoucauld, they became abject strumpets, and theirhunt for men grew more ferocious than ever. Beneath the trees in thedarkening and fast-emptying boulevards fierce bargainings took place, accompanied by oaths and blows. Respectable family parties--fathers, mothers and daughters--who were used to such scenes, would pass quietlyby the while without quickening their pace. Afterward, when they hadwalked from the opera to the GYMNASE some half-score times and in thedeepening night men were rapidly dropping off homeward for good and all, Nana and Satin kept to the sidewalk in the Rue du Faubourg Montmartre. There up till two o'clock in the morning restaurants, bars andham-and-beef shops were brightly lit up, while a noisy mob of womenhung obstinately round the doors of the cafes. This suburb was the onlycorner of night Paris which was still alight and still alive, the onlymarket still open to nocturnal bargains. These last were openly struckbetween group and group and from one end of the street to the other, just as in the wide and open corridor of a disorderly house. On suchevenings as the pair came home without having had any success they usedto wrangle together. The Rue Notre Dame de la Lorette stretched dark anddeserted in front of them. Here and there the crawling shadow of a womanwas discernible, for the Quarter was going home and going home late, and poor creatures, exasperated at a night of fruitless loitering, were unwilling to give up the chase and would still stand, disputing inhoarse voices with any strayed reveler they could catch at the corner ofthe Rue Breda or the Rue Fontaine. 

Nevertheless, some windfalls came in their way now and then in the shapeof louis picked up in the society of elegant gentlemen, who slippedtheir decorations into their pockets as they went upstairs with them. Satin had an especially keen scent for these. On rainy evenings, whenthe dripping city exhaled an unpleasant odor suggestive of a greatuntidy bed, she knew that the soft weather and the fetid reek of thetown's holes and corners were sure to send the men mad. And so shewatched the best dressed among them, for she knew by their pale eyeswhat their state was. On such nights it was as though a fit of fleshlymadness were passing over Paris. The girl was rather nervous certainly, for the most modish gentlemen were always the most obscene. All thevarnish would crack off a man, and the brute beast would show itself, exacting, monstrous in lust, a past master in corruption. But besidesbeing nervous, that trollop of a Satin was lacking in respect. She wouldblurt out awful things in front of dignified gentlemen in carriages andassure them that their coachmen were better bred than they because theybehaved respectfully toward the women and did not half kill them withtheir diabolical tricks and suggestions. The way in which smart peoplesprawled head over heels into all the cesspools of vice still causedNana some surprise, for she had a few prejudices remaining, though Satinwas rapidly destroying them. 

"Well then, " she used to say when talking seriously about the matter, "there's no such thing as virtue left, is there?"

From one end of the social ladder to the other everybody was on theloose! Good gracious! Some nice things ought to be going on in Parisbetween nine o'clock in the evening and three in the morning! And withthat she began making very merry and declaring that if one could onlyhave looked into every room one would have seen some funny sights--thelittle people going it head over ears and a good lot of swells, too, playing the swine rather harder than the rest. Oh, she was finishing hereducation!

One evening when she came to call for Satin she recognized the Marquisde Chouard. He was coming downstairs with quaking legs; his face wasashen white, and he leaned heavily on the banisters. She pretended to beblowing her nose. Upstairs she found Satin amid indescribable filth. No household work had been done for a week; her bed was disgusting, andewers and basins were standing about in all directions. Nana expressedsurprise at her knowing the marquis. Oh yes, she knew him! He had jollywell bored her confectioner and her when they were together. At presenthe used to come back now and then, but he nearly bothered her life out, going sniffing into all the dirty corners--yes, even into her slippers!

"Yes, dear girl, my slippers! Oh, he's the dirtiest old beast, alwayswanting one to do things!"

The sincerity of these low debauches rendered Nana especially uneasy. Seeing the courtesans around her slowly dying of it every day, sherecalled to mind the comedy of pleasure she had taken part in when shewas in the heyday of success. Moreover, Satin inspired her with an awfulfear of the police. She was full of anecdotes about them. Formerly shehad been the mistress of a plain-clothes man, had consented to this inorder to be left in peace, and on two occasions he had prevented herfrom being put "on the lists. " But at present she was in a great fright, for if she were to be nabbed again there was a clear case against her. You had only to listen to her! For the sake of perquisites the policeused to take up as many women as possible. They laid hold of everybodyand quieted you with a slap if you shouted, for they were sure of beingdefended in their actions and rewarded, even when they had taken avirtuous girl among the rest. In the summer they would swoop upon theboulevard in parties of twelve or fifteen, surround a whole long reachof sidewalk and fish up as many as thirty women in an evening. Satin, however, knew the likely places, and the moment she saw a plain-clothesman heaving in sight she took to her heels, while the long lines ofwomen on the pavements scattered in consternation and fled through thesurrounding crowd. The dread of the law and of the magistracy was suchthat certain women would stand as though paralyzed in the doorways ofthe cafes while the raid was sweeping the avenue without. But Satinwas even more afraid of being denounced, for her pastry cook had provedblackguard enough to threaten to sell her when she had left him. Yes, that was a fake by which men lived on their mistresses! Then, too, therewere the dirty women who delivered you up out of sheer treachery if youwere prettier than they! Nana listened to these recitals and felt herterrors growing upon her. She had always trembled before the law, thatunknown power, that form of revenge practiced by men able and willingto crush her in the certain absence of all defenders. Saint-Lazare shepictured as a grave, a dark hole, in which they buried live women afterthey had cut off their hair. She admitted that it was only necessary toleave Fontan and seek powerful protectors. But as matters stood it wasin vain that Satin talked to her of certain lists of women's names, which it was the duty of the plainclothes men to consult, and of certainphotographs accompanying the lists, the originals of which were on noaccount to be touched. The reassurance did not make her tremble theless, and she still saw herself hustled and dragged along and finallysubjected to the official medical inspection. The thought of theofficial armchair filled her with shame and anguish, for had she notbade it defiance a score of times?

Now it so happened that one evening toward the close of September, asshe was walking with Satin in the Boulevard Poissonniere, the lattersuddenly began tearing along at a terrible pace. And when Nana asked herwhat she meant thereby:

"It's the plain-clothes men!" whispered Satin. "Off with you! Off withyou!" A wild stampede took place amid the surging crowd. Skirts streamedout behind and were torn. There were blows and shrieks. A woman felldown. The crowd of bystanders stood hilariously watching this roughpolice raid while the plain-clothes men rapidly narrowed their circle. Meanwhile Nana had lost Satin. Her legs were failing her, and she wouldhave been taken up for a certainty had not a man caught her by the armand led her away in front of the angry police. It was Prulliere, and hehad just recognized her. Without saying a word he turned down the RueRougemont with her. It was just then quite deserted, and she was able toregain breath there, but at first her faintness and exhaustion were suchthat he had to support her. She did not even thank him. 

"Look here, " he said, "you must recover a bit. Come up to my rooms. "

He lodged in the Rue Bergere close by. But she straightened herself upat once. 

"No, I don't want to. "

Thereupon he waxed coarse and rejoined:

"Why don't you want to, eh? Why, everybody visits my rooms. "

"Because I don't. "

In her opinion that explained everything. She was too fond of Fontan tobetray him with one of his friends. The other people ceased to count themoment there was no pleasure in the business, and necessity compelledher to it. In view of her idiotic obstinacy Prulliere, as became apretty fellow whose vanity had been wounded, did a cowardly thing. 

"Very well, do as you like!" he cried. "Only I don't side with you, mydear. You must get out of the scrape by yourself. "

And with that he left her. Terrors got hold of her again, and scurryingpast shops and turning white whenever a man drew nigh, she fetched animmense compass before reaching Montmartre. 

On the morrow, while still suffering from the shock of last night'sterrors, Nana went to her aunt's and at the foot of a small empty streetin the Batignolles found herself face to face with Labordette. At firstthey both appeared embarrassed, for with his usual complaisance he wasbusy on a secret errand. Nevertheless, he was the first to regain hisself-possession and to announce himself fortunate in meeting her. Yes, certainly, everybody was still wondering at Nana's total eclipse. Peoplewere asking for her, and old friends were pining. And with that he grewquite paternal and ended by sermonizing. 

"Frankly speaking, between you and me, my dear, the thing's gettingstupid. One can understand a mash, but to go to that extent, to betrampled on like that and to get nothing but knocks! Are you playing upfor the 'Virtue Prizes' then?"

She listened to him with an embarrassed expression. But when he told herabout Rose, who was triumphantly enjoying her conquest of Count Muffat, a flame came into her eyes. 

"Oh, if I wanted to--" she muttered. 

As became an obliging friend, he at once offered to act as intercessor. But she refused his help, and he thereupon attacked her in an oppositequarter. 

He informed her that Bordenave was busy mounting a play of Fauchery'scontaining a splendid part for her. 

"What, a play with a part!" she cried in amazement. "But he's in it andhe's told me nothing about it!"

She did not mention Fontan by name. However, she grew calm againdirectly and declared that she would never go on the stage again. Labordette doubtless remained unconvinced, for he continued with smilinginsistence. 

"You know, you need fear nothing with me. I get your Muffat ready foryou, and you go on the stage again, and I bring him to you like a littledog!"

"No!" she cried decisively. 

And she left him. Her heroic conduct made her tenderly pitiful towardherself. No blackguard of a man would ever have sacrificed himself likethat without trumpeting the fact abroad. Nevertheless, she was struck byone thing: Labordette had given her exactly the same advice as Francishad given her. That evening when Fontan came home she questioned himabout Fauchery's piece. The former had been back at the Varietes for twomonths past. Why then had he not told her about the part?

"What part?" he said in his ill-humored tone. "The grand lady's part, maybe? The deuce, you believe you've got talent then! Why, such apart would utterly do for you, my girl! You're meant for comicbusiness--there's no denying it!"

She was dreadfully wounded. All that evening he kept chaffing her, calling her Mlle Mars. But the harder he hit the more bravely shesuffered, for she derived a certain bitter satisfaction from this heroicdevotion of hers, which rendered her very great and very loving in herown eyes. Ever since she had gone with other men in order to supplyhis wants her love for him had increased, and the fatigues and disgustsencountered outside only added to the flame. He was fast becoming asort of pet vice for which she paid, a necessity of existence it wasimpossible to do without, seeing that blows only stimulated her desires. He, on his part, seeing what a good tame thing she had become, ended byabusing his privileges. She was getting on his nerves, and he began toconceive so fierce a loathing for her that he forgot to keep count ofhis real interests. When Bosc made his customary remarks to him he criedout in exasperation, for which there was no apparent cause, that hehad had enough of her and of her good dinners and that he would shortlychuck her out of doors if only for the sake of making another woman apresent of his seven thousand francs. Indeed, that was how their liaisonended. 

One evening Nana came in toward eleven o'clock and found the doorbolted. She tapped once--there was no answer; twice--still no answer. Meanwhile she saw light under the door, and Fontan inside did nottrouble to move. She rapped again unwearyingly; she called him and beganto get annoyed. At length Fontan's voice became audible; he spoke slowlyand rather unctuously and uttered but this one word. 

"MERDE!"

She beat on the door with her fists. 

"MERDE!"

She banged hard enough to smash in the woodwork. 

"MERDE!"

And for upward of a quarter of an hour the same foul expression buffetedher, answering like a jeering echo to every blow wherewith she shookthe door. At length, seeing that she was not growing tired, he openedsharply, planted himself on the threshold, folded his arms and said inthe same cold, brutal voice:

"By God, have you done yet? What d'you want? Are you going to let ussleep in peace, eh? You can quite see I've got company tonight. "

He was certainly not alone, for Nana perceived the little woman fromthe Bouffes with the untidy tow hair and the gimlet-hole eyes, standingenjoying herself in her shift among the furniture she had paid for. ButFontan stepped out on the landing. He looked terrible, and he spread outand crooked his great fingers as if they were pincers. 

"Hook it or I'll strangle you!"

Whereupon Nana burst into a nervous fit of sobbing. She was frightenedand she made off. This time it was she that was being kicked out ofdoors. And in her fury the thought of Muffat suddenly occurred to her. Ah, to be sure, Fontan, of all men, ought never to have done her such aturn!

When she was out in the street her first thought was to go and sleepwith Satin, provided the girl had no one with her. She met her infront of her house, for she, too, had been turned out of doors byher landlord. He had just had a padlock affixed to her door--quiteillegally, of course, seeing that she had her own furniture. She sworeand talked of having him up before the commissary of police. In themeantime, as midnight was striking, they had to begin thinking offinding a bed. And Satin, deeming it unwise to let the plain-clothesmen into her secrets, ended by taking Nana to a woman who kept a littlehotel in the Rue de Laval. Here they were assigned a narrow room onthe first floor, the window of which opened on the courtyard. Satinremarked:

"I should gladly have gone to Mme Robert's. There's always a cornerthere for me. But with you it's out of the question. She's gettingabsurdly jealous; she beat me the other night. "

When they had shut themselves in, Nana, who had not yet relieved herfeelings, burst into tears and again and again recounted Fontan's dirtybehavior. Satin listened complaisantly, comforted her, grew even moreangry than she in denunciation of the male sex. 

"Oh, the pigs, the pigs! Look here, we'll have nothing more to do withthem!"

Then she helped Nana to undress with all the small, busy attentions, becoming a humble little friend. She kept saying coaxingly:

"Let's go to bed as fast as we can, pet. We shall be better off there!Oh, how silly you are to get crusty about things! I tell you, they'redirty brutes. Don't think any more about 'em. I--I love you very much. Don't cry, and oblige your own little darling girl. "

And once in bed, she forthwith took Nana in her arms and soothed andcomforted her. She refused to hear Fontan's name mentioned again, andeach time it recurred to her friend's lips she stopped it with a kiss. Her lips pouted in pretty indignation; her hair lay loose about her, andher face glowed with tenderness and childlike beauty. Little by littleher soft embrace compelled Nana to dry her tears. She was touched andreplied to Satin's caresses. When two o'clock struck the candle wasstill burning, and a sound of soft, smothered laughter and lovers' talkwas audible in the room. 

But suddenly a loud noise came up from the lower floors of the hotel, and Satin, with next to nothing on, got up and listened intently. 

"The police!" she said, growing very pale. 

"Oh, blast our bad luck! We're bloody well done for!"

Often had she told stories about the raids on hotel made by theplainclothes men. But that particular night neither of them hadsuspected anything when they took shelter in the Rue de Laval. At thesound of the word "police" Nana lost her head. She jumped out of bed andran across the room with the scared look of a madwoman about to jump outof the window. Luckily, however, the little courtyard was roofed withglass, which was covered with an iron-wire grating at the level of thegirls' bedroom. At sight of this she ceased to hesitate; she steppedover the window prop, and with her chemise flying and her legs bared tothe night air she vanished in the gloom. 

"Stop! Stop!" said Satin in a great fright. "You'll kill yourself. "

Then as they began hammering at the door, she shut the window like agood-natured girl and threw her friend's clothes down into a cupboard. She was already resigned to her fate and comforted herself with thethought that, after all, if she were to be put on the official list shewould no longer be so "beastly frightened" as of yore. So she pretendedto be heavy with sleep. She yawned; she palavered and ended by openingthe door to a tall, burly fellow with an unkempt beard, who said to her:

"Show your hands! You've got no needle pricks on them: you don't work. Now then, dress!"

"But I'm not a dressmaker; I'm a burnisher, " Satin brazenly declared. 

Nevertheless, she dressed with much docility, knowing that argument wasout of the question. Cries were ringing through the hotel; a girl wasclinging to doorposts and refusing to budge an inch. Another girl, inbed with a lover, who was answering for her legality, was acting thehonest woman who had been grossly insulted and spoke of bringing anaction against the prefect of police. For close on an hour there wasa noise of heavy shoes on the stairs, of fists hammering on doors, ofshrill disputes terminating in sobs, of petticoats rustling along thewalls, of all the sounds, in fact, attendant on the sudden awakening andscared departure of a flock of women as they were roughly packed off bythree plain-clothes men, headed by a little oily-mannered, fair-hairedcommissary of police. After they had gone the hotel relapsed into deepsilence. 

Nobody had betrayed her; Nana was saved. Shivering and half dead withfear, she came groping back into the room. Her bare feet were cut andbleeding, for they had been torn by the grating. For a long while sheremained sitting on the edge of the bed, listening and listening. Towardmorning, however, she went to sleep again, and at eight o'clock, whenshe woke up, she escaped from the hotel and ran to her aunt's. When MmeLerat, who happened just then to be drinking her morning coffee withZoe, beheld her bedraggled plight and haggard face, she took note of thehour and at once understood the state of the case. 

"It's come to it, eh?" she cried. "I certainly told you that he wouldtake the skin off your back one of these days. Well, well, come in;you'll always find a kind welcome here. "

Zoe had risen from her chair and was muttering with respectfulfamiliarity:

"Madame is restored to us at last. I was waiting for Madame. "

But Mme Lerat insisted on Nana's going and kissing Louiset at once, because, she said, the child took delight in his mother's nice ways. Louiset, a sickly child with poor blood, was still asleep, and whenNana bent over his white, scrofulous face, the memory of all she hadundergone during the last few months brought a choking lump into herthroat. 

"Oh, my poor little one, my poor little one!" she gasped, bursting intoa final fit of sobbing. 

CHAPTER IX

The Petite Duchesse was being rehearsed at the Varietes. The first acthad just been carefully gone through, and the second was about to begin. Seated in old armchairs in front of the stage, Fauchery and Bordenavewere discussing various points while the prompter, Father Cossard, alittle humpbacked man perched on a straw-bottomed chair, was turningover the pages of the manuscript, a pencil between his lips. 

"Well, what are they waiting for?" cried Bordenave on a sudden, tappingthe floor savagely with his heavy cane. "Barillot, why don't theybegin?"

"It's Monsieur Bosc that has disappeared, " replied Barillot, who wasacting as second stage manager. '

Then there arose a tempest, and everybody shouted for Bosc whileBordenave swore. 

"Always the same thing, by God! It's all very well ringing for 'em:they're always where they've no business to be. And then they grumblewhen they're kept till after four o'clock. "

But Bosc just then came in with supreme tranquillity. 

"Eh? What? What do they want me for? Oh, it's my turn! You ought to havesaid so. All right! Simonne gives the cue: 'Here are the guests, ' and Icome in. Which way must I come in?"

"Through the door, of course, " cried Fauchery in great exasperation. 

"Yes, but where is the door?"

At this Bordenave fell upon Barillot and once more set to work swearingand hammering the boards with his cane. 

"By God! I said a chair was to be put there to stand for the door, andevery day we have to get it done again. Barillot! Where's Barillot?Another of 'em! Why, they're all going!"

Nevertheless, Barillot came and planted the chair down in person, mutely weathering the storm as he did so. And the rehearsal began again. Simonne, in her hat and furs, began moving about like a maidservant busyarranging furniture. She paused to say:

"I'm not warm, you know, so I keep my hands in my muff. "

Then changing her voice, she greeted Bosc with a little cry:

"La, it's Monsieur le Comte. You're the first to come, Monsieur leComte, and Madame will be delighted. "

Bosc had muddy trousers and a huge yellow overcoat, round the collar ofwhich a tremendous comforter was wound. On his head he wore an old hat, and he kept his hands in his pockets. He did not act but dragged himselfalong, remarking in a hollow voice:

"Don't disturb your mistress, Isabelle; I want to take her by surprise. "

The rehearsal took its course. Bordenave knitted his brows. He hadslipped down low in his armchair and was listening with an air offatigue. Fauchery was nervous and kept shifting about in his seat. Everyfew minutes he itched with the desire to interrupt, but he restrainedhimself. He heard a whispering in the dark and empty house behind him. 

"Is she there?" he asked, leaning over toward Bordenave. 

The latter nodded affirmatively. Before accepting the part of Geraldine, which he was offering her, Nana had been anxious to see the piece, forshe hesitated to play a courtesan's part a second time. She, in fact, aspired to an honest woman's part. Accordingly she was hiding in theshadows of a corner box in company with Labordette, who was managingmatters for her with Bordenave. Fauchery glanced in her direction andthen once more set himself to follow the rehearsal. 

Only the front of the stage was lit up. A flaring gas burner on asupport, which was fed by a pipe from the footlights, burned in front ofa reflector and cast its full brightness over the immediate foreground. It looked like a big yellow eye glaring through the surroundingsemiobscurity, where it flamed in a doubtful, melancholy way. Cossardwas holding up his manuscript against the slender stem of thisarrangement. He wanted to see more clearly, and in the flood of lighthis hump was sharply outlined. As to Bordenave and Fauchery, they werealready drowned in shadow. It was only in the heart of this enormousstructure, on a few square yards of stage, that a faint glow suggestedthe light cast by some lantern nailed up in a railway station. It madethe actors look like eccentric phantoms and set their shadows dancingafter them. The remainder of the stage was full of mist and suggested ahouse in process of being pulled down, a church nave in utter ruin. Itwas littered with ladders, with set pieces and with scenery, of whichthe faded painting suggested heaped-up rubbish. Hanging high in air, the scenes had the appearance of great ragged clouts suspended from therafters of some vast old-clothes shop, while above these again a ray ofbright sunlight fell from a window and clove the shadow round the flieswith a bar of gold. 

Meanwhile actors were chatting at the back of the stage while awaitingtheir cues. Little by little they had raised their voices. 

"Confound it, will you be silent?" howled Bordenave, raging up and downin his chair. "I can't hear a word. Go outside if you want to talk; WEare at work. Barillot, if there's any more talking I clap on fines allround!"

They were silent for a second or two. They were sitting in a littlegroup on a bench and some rustic chairs in the corner of a scenicgarden, which was standing ready to be put in position as it would beused in the opening act the same evening. In the middle of this groupFontan and Prulliere were listening to Rose Mignon, to whom the managerof the Folies-Dramatique Theatre had been making magnificent offers. Buta voice was heard shouting:

"The duchess! Saint-Firmin! The duchess and Saint-Firmin are wanted!"

Only when the call was repeated did Prulliere remember that he wasSaint-Firmin! Rose, who was playing the Duchess Helene, was alreadywaiting to go on with him while old Bosc slowly returned to his seat, dragging one foot after the other over the sonorous and deserted boards. Clarisse offered him a place on the bench beside her. 

"What's he bawling like that for?" she said in allusion to Bordenave. "Things will be getting rosy soon! A piece can't be put on nowadayswithout its getting on his nerves. "

Bosc shrugged his shoulders; he was above such storms. Fontan whispered:

"He's afraid of a fiasco. The piece strikes me as idiotic. "

Then he turned to Clarisse and again referred to what Rose had beentelling them:

"D'you believe in the offers of the Folies people, eh? Three hundredfrancs an evening for a hundred nights! Why not a country house into thebargain? If his wife were to be given three hundred francs Mignon wouldchuck my friend Bordenave and do it jolly sharp too!"

Clarisse was a believer in the three hundred francs. That man Fontanwas always picking holes in his friends' successes! Just then Simonneinterrupted her. She was shivering with cold. Indeed, they were allbuttoned up to the ears and had comforters on, and they looked up at theray of sunlight which shone brightly above them but did not penetratethe cold gloom of the theater. In the streets outside there was a frostunder a November sky. 

"And there's no fire in the greenroom!" said Simonne. "It's disgusting;he IS just becoming a skinflint! I want to be off; I don't want to getseedy. "

"Silence, I say!" Bordenave once more thundered. 

Then for a minute or so a confused murmur alone was audible as theactors went on repeating their parts. There was scarcely any appropriateaction, and they spoke in even tones so as not to tire themselves. Nevertheless, when they did emphasize a particular shade of meaning theycast a glance at the house, which lay before them like a yawning gulf. It was suffused with vague, ambient shadow, which resembled the finedust floating pent in some high, windowless loft. The deserted house, whose sole illumination was the twilight radiance of the stage, seemedto slumber in melancholy and mysterious effacement. Near the ceilingdense night smothered the frescoes, while from the several tiers ofstage boxes on either hand huge widths of gray canvas stretched downto protect the neighboring hangings. In fact, there was no end to thesecoverings; bands of canvas had been thrown over the velvet-coveredledges in front of the various galleries which they shrouded thickly. Their pale hue stained the surrounding shadows, and of the generaldecorations of the house only the dark recesses of the boxes weredistinguishable. These served to outline the framework of the severalstories, where the seats were so many stains of red velvet turned black. The chandelier had been let down as far as it would go, and it so filledthe region of the stalls with its pendants as to suggest a flitting andto set one thinking that the public had started on a journey from whichthey would never return. 

Just about then Rose, as the little duchess who has been misled into thesociety of a courtesan, came to the footlights, lifted up her hands andpouted adorably at the dark and empty theater, which was as sad as ahouse of mourning. 

"Good heavens, what queer people!" she said, emphasizing the phrase andconfident that it would have its effect. 

Far back in the corner box in which she was hiding Nana sat enveloped ina great shawl. She was listening to the play and devouring Rose with hereyes. Turning toward Labordette, she asked him in a low tone:

"You are sure he'll come?"

"Quite sure. Without doubt he'll come with Mignon, so as to have anexcuse for coming. As soon as he makes his appearance you'll go up intoMathilde's dressing room, and I'll bring him to you there. "

They were talking of Count Muffat. Labordette had arranged thisinterview with him on neutral ground. He had had a serious talk withBordenave, whose affairs had been gravely damaged by two successivefailures. Accordingly Bordenave had hastened to lend him his theater andto offer Nana a part, for he was anxious to win the count's favor andhoped to be able to borrow from him. 

"And this part of Geraldine, what d'you thing of it?" continuedLabordette. 

But Nana sat motionless and vouchsafed no reply. After the first act, inwhich the author showed how the Duc de Beaurivage played his wife falsewith the blonde Geraldine, a comic-opera celebrity, the second actwitnessed the Duchess Helene's arrival at the house of the actress onthe occasion of a masked ball being given by the latter. The duchess hascome to find out by what magical process ladies of that sort conquerand retain their husbands' affections. A cousin, the handsome Oscar deSaint-Firmin, introduces her and hopes to be able to debauch her. Andher first lesson causes her great surprise, for she hears Geraldineswearing like a hodman at the duke, who suffers with most ecstaticsubmissiveness. The episode causes her to cry out, "Dear me, if that'sthe way one ought to talk to the men!" Geraldine had scarce any otherscene in the act save this one. As to the duchess, she is very soonpunished for her curiosity, for an old buck, the Baron de Tardiveau, takes her for a courtesan and becomes very gallant, while on her otherside Beaurivage sits on a lounging chair and makes his peace withGeraldine by dint of kisses and caresses. As this last lady's part hadnot yet been assigned to anyone, Father Cossard had got up to read it, and he was now figuring away in Bosc's arms and emphasizing it despitehimself. At this point, while the rehearsal was dragging monotonouslyon, Fauchery suddenly jumped from his chair. He had restrained himselfup to that moment, but now his nerves got the better of him. 

"That's not it!" he cried. 

The actors paused awkwardly enough while Fontan sneered and asked in hismost contemptuous voice:

"Eh? What's not it? Who's not doing it right?"

"Nobody is! You're quite wrong, quite wrong!" continued Fauchery, and, gesticulating wildly, he came striding over the stage and began himselfto act the scene. 

"Now look here, you Fontan, do please comprehend the way Tardiveau getspacked off. You must lean forward like this in order to catch hold ofthe duchess. And then you, Rose, must change your position like that butnot too soon--only when you hear the kiss. "

He broke off and in the heat of explanation shouted to Cossard:

"Geraldine, give the kiss! Loudly, so that it may be heard!"

Father Cossard turned toward Bosc and smacked his lips vigorously. 

"Good! That's the kiss, " said Fauchery triumphantly. "Once more; let'shave it once more. Now you see, Rose, I've had time to move, and thenI give a little cry--so: 'Oh, she's given him a kiss. ' But before I dothat, Tardiveau must go up the stage. D'you hear, Fontan? You go up. Come, let's try it again, all together. "

The actors continued the scene again, but Fontan played his part withsuch an ill grace that they made no sort of progress. Twice Fauchery hadto repeat his explanation, each time acting it out with more warmththan before. The actors listened to him with melancholy faces, gazedmomentarily at one another, as though he had asked them to walk on theirheads, and then awkwardly essayed the passage, only to pull up shortdirectly afterward, looking as stiff as puppets whose strings have justbeen snapped. 

"No, it beats me; I can't understand it, " said Fontan at length, speaking in the insolent manner peculiar to him. 

Bordenave had never once opened his lips. He had slipped quite down inhis armchair, so that only the top of his hat was now visible in thedoubtful flicker of the gaslight on the stand. His cane had fallen fromhis grasp and lay slantwise across his waistcoat. Indeed, he seemed tobe asleep. But suddenly he sat bolt upright. 

"It's idiotic, my boy, " he announced quietly to Fauchery. 

"What d'you mean, idiotic?" cried the author, growing very pale. "It'syou that are the idiot, my dear boy!"

Bordenave began to get angry at once. He repeated the word "idiotic"and, seeking a more forcible expression, hit upon "imbecile" and "damnedfoolish. " The public would hiss, and the act would never be finished!And when Fauchery, without, indeed, being very deeply wounded by thesebig phrases, which always recurred when a new piece was being put on, grew savage and called the other a brute, Bordenave went beyond allbounds, brandished his cane in the air, snorted like a bull and shouted:

"Good God! Why the hell can't you shut up? We've lost a quarter of anhour over this folly. Yes, folly! There's no sense in it. And it's sosimple, after all's said and done! You, Fontan, mustn't move. You, Rose, must make your little movement, just that, no more; d'ye see? And thenyou come down. Now then, let's get it done this journey. Give the kiss, Cossard. "

Then ensued confusion. The scene went no better than before. Bordenave, in his turn, showed them how to act it about as gracefully as anelephant might have done, while Fauchery sneered and shrugged pityingly. After that Fontan put his word in, and even Bosc made so bold as to giveadvice. Rose, thoroughly tired out, had ended by sitting down on thechair which indicated the door. No one knew where they had got to, andby way of finish to it all Simonne made a premature entry, underthe impression that her cue had been given her, and arrived amid theconfusion. This so enraged Bordenave that he whirled his stick round ina terrific manner and caught her a sounding thwack to the rearward. Atrehearsal he used frequently to drub his former mistress. Simonne ranaway, and this furious outcry followed her:

"Take that, and, by God, if I'm annoyed again I shut the whole shop upat once!"

Fauchery pushed his hat down over his forehead and pretended to be goingto leave the theater. But he stopped at the top of the stage and camedown again when he saw Bordenave perspiringly resuming his seat. Thenhe, too, took up his old position in the other armchair. For someseconds they sat motionless side by side while oppressive silencereigned in the shadowy house. The actors waited for nearly two minutes. They were all heavy with exhaustion and felt as though they hadperformed an overwhelming task. 

"Well, let's go on, " said Bordenave at last. He spoke in his usual voiceand was perfectly calm. 

"Yes, let's go on, " Fauchery repeated. "We'll arrange the scenetomorrow. "

And with that they dragged on again and rehearsed their parts withas much listlessness and as fine an indifference as ever. During thedispute between manager and author Fontan and the rest had been takingthings very comfortably on the rustic bench and seats at the back ofthe stage, where they had been chuckling, grumbling and saying fiercelycutting things. But when Simonne came back, still smarting from her blowand choking with sobs, they grew melodramatic and declared that had theybeen in her place they would have strangled the swine. She began wipingher eyes and nodding approval. It was all over between them, she said. She was leaving him, especially as Steiner had offered to give her agrand start in life only the day before. Clarisse was much astonished atthis, for the banker was quite ruined, but Prulliere began laughing andreminded them of the neat manner in which that confounded Israelite hadpuffed himself alongside of Rose in order to get his Landes saltworksafloat on 'change. Just at that time he was airing a new project, namely, a tunnel under the Bosporus. Simonne listened with the greatestinterest to this fresh piece of information. 

As to Clarisse, she had been raging for a week past. Just fancy, that beast La Faloise, whom she had succeeded in chucking into Gaga'svenerable embrace, was coming into the fortune of a very rich uncle! Itwas just her luck; she had always been destined to make things cozy forother people. Then, too, that pig Bordenave had once more given her amere scrap of a part, a paltry fifty lines, just as if she could nothave played Geraldine! She was yearning for that role and hoping thatNana would refuse it. 

"Well, and what about me?" said Prulliere with much bitterness. "Ihaven't got more than two hundred lines. I wanted to give the partup. It's too bad to make me play that fellow Saint-Firmin; why, it's aregular failure! And then what a style it's written in, my dears! It'llfall dead flat, you may be sure. "

But just then Simonne, who had been chatting with Father Barillot, cameback breathless and announced:

"By the by, talking of Nana, she's in the house. "

"Where, where?" asked Clarisse briskly, getting up to look for her. 

The news spread at once, and everyone craned forward. The rehearsalwas, as it were, momentarily interrupted. But Bordenave emerged from hisquiescent condition, shouting:

"What's up, eh? Finish the act, I say. And be quiet out there; it'sunbearable!"

Nana was still following the piece from the corner box. Twice Labordetteshowed an inclination to chat, but she grew impatient and nudged him tomake him keep silent. The second act was drawing to a close, when twoshadows loomed at the back of the theater. They were creeping softlydown, avoiding all noise, and Nana recognized Mignon and Count Muffat. They came forward and silently shook hands with Bordenave. 

"Ah, there they are, " she murmured with a sigh of relief. 

Rose Mignon delivered the last sentences of the act. Thereupon Bordenavesaid that it was necessary to go through the second again beforebeginning the third. With that he left off attending to the rehearsaland greeted the count with looks of exaggerated politeness, whileFauchery pretended to be entirely engrossed with his actors, who nowgrouped themselves round him. Mignon stood whistling carelessly, withhis hands behind his back and his eyes fixed complacently on his wife, who seemed rather nervous. 

"Well, shall we go upstairs?" Labordette asked Nana. "I'll install youin the dressing room and come down again and fetch him. "

Nana forthwith left the corner box. She had to grope her way along thepassage outside the stalls, but Bordenave guessed where she was as shepassed along in the dark and caught her up at the end of the corridorpassing behind the scenes, a narrow tunnel where the gas burned day andnight. Here, in order to bluff her into a bargain, he plunged into adiscussion of the courtesan's part. 

"What a part it is, eh? What a wicked little part! It's made for you. Come and rehearse tomorrow. "

Nana was frigid. She wanted to know what the third act was like. 

"Oh, it's superb, the third act is! The duchess plays the courtesan inher own house and this disgusts Beaurivage and makes him amend his way. Then there's an awfully funny QUID PRO QUO, when Tardiveau arrives andis under the impression that he's at an opera dancer's house. "

"And what does Geraldine do in it all?" interrupted Nana. 

"Geraldine?" repeated Bordenave in some embarrassment. "She has ascene--not a very long one, but a great success. It's made for you, Iassure you! Will you sign?"

She looked steadily at him and at length made answer:

"We'll see about that all in good time. "

And she rejoined Labordette, who was waiting for her on the stairs. Everybody in the theater had recognized her, and there was now muchwhispering, especially between Prulliere, who was scandalized at herreturn, and Clarisse who was very desirous of the part. As to Fontan, helooked coldly on, pretending unconcern, for he did not think it becomingto round on a woman he had loved. Deep down in his heart, though, hisold love had turned to hate, and he nursed the fiercest rancor againsther in return for the constant devotion, the personal beauty, the lifein common, of which his perverse and monstrous tastes had made him tire. 

In the meantime, when Labordette reappeared and went up to the count, Rose Mignon, whose suspicions Nana's presence had excited, understoodit all forthwith. Muffat was bothering her to death, but she was besideherself at the thought of being left like this. She broke the silencewhich she usually maintained on such subjects in her husband's societyand said bluntly:

"You see what's going on? My word, if she tries the Steiner trick onagain I'll tear her eyes out!"

Tranquilly and haughtily Mignon shrugged his shoulders, as became a manfrom whom nothing could be hidden. 

"Do be quiet, " he muttered. "Do me the favor of being quiet, won't you?"

He knew what to rely on now. He had drained his Muffat dry, and he knewthat at a sign from Nana he was ready to lie down and be a carpetunder her feet. There is no fighting against passions such as that. Accordingly, as he knew what men were, he thought of nothing but how toturn the situation to the best possible account. 

It would be necessary to wait on the course of events. And he waited onthem. 

"Rose, it's your turn!" shouted Bordenave. "The second act's being begunagain. "

"Off with you then, " continued Mignon, "and let me arrange matters. "

Then he began bantering, despite all his troubles, and was pleased tocongratulate Fauchery on his piece. A very strong piece! Only why washis great lady so chaste? It wasn't natural! With that he sneeredand asked who had sat for the portrait of the Duke of Beaurivage, Geraldine's wornout roue. Fauchery smiled; he was far from annoyed. ButBordenave glanced in Muffat's direction and looked vexed, and Mignon wasstruck at this and became serious again. 

"Let's begin, for God's sake!" yelled the manager. "Now then, Barillot!Eh? What? Isn't Bosc there? Is he bloody well making game of me now?"

Bosc, however, made his appearance quietly enough, and the rehearsalbegan again just as Labordette was taking the count away with him. Thelatter was tremulous at the thought of seeing Nana once more. After therupture had taken place between them there had been a great void in hislife. He was idle and fancied himself about to suffer through the suddenchange his habits had undergone, and accordingly he had let them takehim to see Rose. Besides, his brain had been in such a whirl that he hadstriven to forget everything and had strenuously kept from seekingout Nana while avoiding an explanation with the countess. He thought, indeed, that he owed his dignity such a measure of forgetfulness. But mysterious forces were at work within, and Nana began slowly toreconquer him. First came thoughts of her, then fleshly cravings andfinally a new set of exclusive, tender, well-nigh paternal feelings. 

The abominable events attendant on their last interview were graduallyeffacing themselves. He no longer saw Fontan; he no longer heard thestinging taunt about his wife's adultery with which Nana cast him out ofdoors. These things were as words whose memory vanished. Yet deepdown in his heart there was a poignant smart which wrung him with suchincreasing pain that it nigh choked him. Childish ideas would occur tohim; he imagined that she would never have betrayed him if he had reallyloved her, and he blamed himself for this. His anguish was becomingunbearable; he was really very wretched. His was the pain of anold wound rather than the blind, present desire which puts up witheverything for the sake of immediate possession. He felt a jealouspassion for the woman and was haunted by longings for her and her alone, her hair, her mouth, her body. When he remembered the sound of her voicea shiver ran through him; he longed for her as a miser might have done, with refinements of desire beggaring description. He was, in fact, sodolorously possessed by his passion that when Labordette had begun tobroach the subject of an assignation he had thrown himself into hisarms in obedience to irresistible impulse. Directly afterward he had, ofcourse, been ashamed of an act of self-abandonment which could not butseem very ridiculous in a man of his position; but Labordette was one whoknew when to see and when not to see things, and he gave a further proofof his tact when he left the count at the foot of the stairs and withouteffort let slip only these simple words:

"The right-hand passage on the second floor. The door's not shut. "

Muffat was alone in that silent corner of the house. As he passed beforethe players' waiting room, he had peeped through the open doors andnoticed the utter dilapidation of the vast chamber, which lookedshamefully stained and worn in broad daylight. But what surprised himmost as he emerged from the darkness and confusion of the stage wasthe pure, clear light and deep quiet at present pervading the loftystaircase, which one evening when he had seen it before had been bathedin gas fumes and loud with the footsteps of women scampering overthe different floors. He felt that the dressing rooms were empty, the corridors deserted; not a soul was there; not a sound broke thestillness, while through the square windows on the level of the stairsthe pale November sunlight filtered and cast yellow patches of light, full of dancing dust, amid the dead, peaceful air which seemed todescend from the regions above. 

He was glad of this calm and the silence, and he went slowly up, tryingto regain breath as he went, for his heart was thumping, and he wasafraid lest he might behave childishly and give way to sighs and tears. Accordingly on the first-floor landing he leaned up against a wall--forhe was sure of not being observed--and pressed his handkerchief to hismouth and gazed at the warped steps, the iron balustrade bright with thefriction of many hands, the scraped paint on the walls--all the squalor, in fact, which that house of tolerance so crudely displayed at the paleafternoon hour when courtesans are asleep. When he reached the secondfloor he had to step over a big yellow cat which was lying curled up ona step. With half-closed eyes this cat was keeping solitary watch overthe house, where the close and now frozen odors which the women nightlyleft behind them had rendered him somnolent. 

In the right-hand corridor the door of the dressing room had, indeed, not been closed entirely. Nana was waiting. That little Mathilde, a drabof a young girl, kept her dressing room in a filthy state. Chipped jugsstood about anyhow; the dressing table was greasy, and there was a chaircovered with red stains, which looked as if someone had bled over thestraw. The paper pasted on walls and ceiling was splashed from top tobottom with spots of soapy water and this smelled so disagreeably oflavender scent turned sour that Nana opened the window and for somemoments stayed leaning on the sill, breathing the fresh air and craningforward to catch sight of Mme Bron underneath. She could hear her broomwildly at work on the mildewed pantiles of the narrow court which wasburied in shadow. A canary, whose cage hung on a shutter, was trillingaway piercingly. The sound of carriages in the boulevard and neighboringstreets was no longer audible, and the quiet and the wide expanse ofsleeping sunlight suggested the country. Looking farther afield, hereye fell on the small buildings and glass roofs of the galleries in thepassage and, beyond these, on the tall houses in the Rue Vivienne, thebacks of which rose silent and apparently deserted over against her. There was a succession of terrace roofs close by, and on one of these aphotographer had perched a big cagelike construction of blue glass. Itwas all very gay, and Nana was becoming absorbed in contemplation, whenit struck her someone had knocked at the door. 

She turned round and shouted:

"Come in!"

At sight of the count she shut the window, for it was not warm, andthere was no need for the eavesdropping Mme Bron to listen. The pairgazed at one another gravely. Then as the count still kept standingstiffly in front of her, looking ready to choke with emotion, she burstout laughing and said:

"Well! So you're here again, you silly big beast!"

The tumult going on within him was so great that he seemed a man frozento ice. He addressed Nana as "madame" and esteemed himself happy tosee her again. Thereupon she became more familiar than ever in order tobounce matters through. 

"Don't do it in the dignified way! You wanted to see me, didn't you? Butyou didn't intend us to stand looking at one another like a couple ofchinaware dogs. We've both been in the wrong--Oh, I certainly forgiveyou!"

And herewith they agreed not to talk of that affair again, Muffatnodding his assent as Nana spoke. He was calmer now but as yet couldfind nothing to say, though a thousand things rose tumultuously to hislips. Surprised at his apparent coldness, she began acting a part withmuch vigor. 

"Come, " she continued with a faint smile, "you're a sensible man! Nowthat we've made our peace let's shake hands and be good friends infuture. "

"What? Good friends?" he murmured in sudden anxiety. 

"Yes; it's idiotic, perhaps, but I should like you to think well of me. We've had our little explanation out, and if we meet again we shan't, atany rate look like a pair of boobies. "

He tried to interrupt her with a movement of the hand. 

"Let me finish! There's not a man, you understand, able to accuse me ofdoing him a blackguardly turn; well, and it struck me as horrid to beginin your case. We all have our sense of honor, dear boy. "

"But that's not my meaning!" he shouted violently. "Sit down--listen tome!" And as though he were afraid of seeing her take her departure, hepushed her down on the solitary chair in the room. Then he paced aboutin growing agitation. The little dressing room was airless and full ofsunlight, and no sound from the outside world disturbed its pleasant, peaceful, dampish atmosphere. In the pauses of conversation theshrillings of the canary were alone audible and suggested the distantpiping of a flute. 

"Listen, " he said, planting himself in front of her, "I've come topossess myself of you again. Yes, I want to begin again. You know thatwell; then why do you talk to me as you do? Answer me; tell me youconsent. "

Her head was bent, and she was scratching the blood-red straw of theseat underneath her. Seeing him so anxious, she did not hurry to answer. But at last she lifted up her face. It had assumed a grave expression, and into the beautiful eyes she had succeeded in infusing a look ofsadness. 

"Oh, it's impossible, little man. Never, never, will I live with youagain. "

"Why?" he stuttered, and his face seemed contracted in unspeakablesuffering. 

"Why? Hang it all, because--It's impossible; that's about it. I don'twant to. "

He looked ardently at her for some seconds longer. Then his legs curvedunder him and he fell on the floor. In a bored voice she added thissimple advice:

"Ah, don't be a baby!"

But he was one already. Dropping at her feet, he had put his arms roundher waist and was hugging her closely, pressing his face hard againsther knees. When he felt her thus--when he once more divined the presenceof her velvety limbs beneath the thin fabric of her dress--he wassuddenly convulsed and trembled, as it were, with fever, while madly, savagely, he pressed his face against her knees as though he had beenanxious to force through her flesh. The old chair creaked, and beneaththe low ceiling, where the air was pungent with stale perfumes, smothered sobs of desire were audible. 

"Well, and after?" Nana began saying, letting him do as he would. "Allthis doesn't help you a bit, seeing that the thing's impossible. GoodGod, what a child you are!"

His energy subsided, but he still stayed on the floor, nor did he relaxhis hold of her as he said in a broken voice:

"Do at least listen to what I came to offer you. I've already seena town house close to the Parc Monceau--I would gladly realize yoursmallest wish. In order to have you all to myself, I would give my wholefortune. Yes, that would be my only condition, that I should have youall to myself! Do you understand? And if you were to consent to be mineonly, oh, then I should want you to be the loveliest, the richest, womanon earth. I should give you carriages and diamonds and dresses!"

At each successive offer Nana shook her head proudly. Then seeingthat he still continued them, that he even spoke of settling money onher--for he was at loss what to lay at her feet--she apparently lostpatience. 

"Come, come, have you done bargaining with me? I'm a good sort, and Idon't mind giving in to you for a minute or two, as your feelings aremaking you so ill, but I've had enough of it now, haven't I? So let meget up. You're tiring me. "

She extricated herself from his clasp, and once on her feet:

"No, no, no!" she said. "I don't want to!"

With that he gathered himself up painfully and feebly dropped into achair, in which he leaned back with his face in his hands. Nana beganpacing up and down in her turn. For a second or two she looked at thestained wallpaper, the greasy toilet table, the whole dirty little roomas it basked in the pale sunlight. Then she paused in front of the countand spoke with quiet directness. 

"It's strange how rich men fancy they can have everything for theirmoney. Well, and if I don't want to consent--what then? I don't care apin for your presents! You might give me Paris, and yet I should sayno! Always no! Look here, it's scarcely clean in this room, yet I shouldthink it very nice if I wanted to live in it with you. But one's fit tokick the bucket in your palaces if one isn't in love. Ah, as to money, my poor pet, I can lay my hands on that if I want to, but I tell you, Itrample on it; I spit on it!"

And with that she assumed a disgusted expression. Then she becamesentimental and added in a melancholy tone:

"I know of something worth more than money. Oh, if only someone were togive me what I long for!"

He slowly lifted his head, and there was a gleam of hope in his eyes. 

"Oh, you can't give it me, " she continued; "it doesn't depend on you, and that's the reason I'm talking to you about it. Yes, we're havinga chat, so I may as well mention to you that I should like to play thepart of the respectable woman in that show of theirs. "

"What respectable woman?" he muttered in astonishment. 

"Why, their Duchess Helene! If they think I'm going to play Geraldine, a part with nothing in it, a scene and nothing besides--if they thinkthat! Besides, that isn't the reason. The fact is I've had enough ofcourtesans. Why, there's no end to 'em! They'll be fancying I've got 'emon the brain; to be sure they will! Besides, when all's said and done, it's annoying, for I can quite see they seem to think me uneducated. Well, my boy, they're jolly well in the dark about it, I can tell you!When I want to be a perfect lady, why then I am a swell, and no mistake!Just look at this. "

And she withdrew as far as the window and then came swelling back withthe mincing gait and circumspect air of a portly hen that fears to dirtyher claws. As to Muffat, he followed her movements with eyes still wetwith tears. He was stupefied by this sudden transition from anguishto comedy. She walked about for a moment or two in order the morethoroughly to show off her paces, and as she walked she smiled subtlely, closed her eyes demurely and managed her skirts with great dexterity. Then she posted herself in front of him again. 

"I guess I've hit it, eh?"

"Oh, thoroughly, " he stammered with a broken voice and a troubledexpression. 

"I tell you I've got hold of the honest woman! I've tried at my ownplace. Nobody's got my little knack of looking like a duchess who don'tcare a damn for the men. Did you notice it when I passed in front ofyou? Why, the thing's in my blood! Besides, I want to play the part ofan honest woman. I dream about it day and night--I'm miserable about it. I must have the part, d'you hear?"

And with that she grew serious, speaking in a hard voice and lookingdeeply moved, for she was really tortured by her stupid, tiresome wish. Muffat, still smarting from her late refusals, sat on without appearingto grasp her meaning. There was a silence during which the very fliesabstained from buzzing through the quiet, empty place. 

"Now, look here, " she resumed bluntly, "you're to get them to give methe part. "

He was dumfounded, and with a despairing gesture:

"Oh, it's impossible! You yourself were saying just now that it didn'tdepend on me. "

She interrupted him with a shrug of the shoulders. 

"You'll just go down, and you'll tell Bordenave you want the part. Nowdon't be such a silly! Bordenave wants money--well, you'll lend himsome, since you can afford to make ducks and drakes of it. "

And as he still struggled to refuse her, she grew angry. 

"Very well, I understand; you're afraid of making Rose angry. I didn'tmention the woman when you were crying down on the floor--I should havehad too much to say about it all. Yes, to be sure, when one has sworn tolove a woman forever one doesn't usually take up with the first creaturethat comes by directly after. Oh, that's where the shoe pinches, Iremember! Well, dear boy, there's nothing very savory in the Mignon'sleavings! Oughtn't you to have broken it off with that dirty lot beforecoming and squirming on my knees?"

He protested vaguely and at last was able to get out a phrase. 

"Oh, I don't care a jot for Rose; I'll give her up at once. "

Nana seemed satisfied on this point. She continued:

"Well then, what's bothering you? Bordenave's master here. You'll tellme there's Fauchery after Bordenave--"

She had sunk her voice, for she was coming to the delicate part of thematter. Muffat sat silent, his eyes fixed on the ground. He had remainedvoluntarily ignorant of Fauchery's assiduous attentions to the countess, and time had lulled his suspicions and set him hoping that he had beendeceiving himself during that fearful night passed in a doorway of theRue Taitbout. But he still felt a dull, angry repugnance to the man. 

"Well, what then? Fauchery isn't the devil!" Nana repeated, feeling herway cautiously and trying to find out how matters stood between husbandand lover. "One can get over his soft side. I promise you, he's a goodsort at bottom! So it's a bargain, eh? You'll tell him that it's for mysake?"

The idea of taking such a step disgusted the count. 

"No, no! Never!" he cried. 

She paused, and this sentence was on the verge of utterance:

"Fauchery can refuse you nothing. "

But she felt that by way of argument it was rather too much of a goodthing. So she only smiled a queer smile which spoke as plainly aswords. Muffat had raised his eyes to her and now once more lowered them, looking pale and full of embarrassment. 

"Ah, you're not good natured, " she muttered at last. 

"I cannot, " he said with a voice and a look of the utmost anguish. "I'lldo whatever you like, but not that, dear love! Oh, I beg you not toinsist on that!"

Thereupon she wasted no more time in discussion but took his headbetween her small hands, pushed it back a little, bent down and gluedher mouth to his in a long, long kiss. He shivered violently; hetrembled beneath her touch; his eyes were closed, and he was besidehimself. She lifted him to his feet. 

"Go, " said she simply. 

He walked off, making toward the door. But as he passed out she took himin her arms again, became meek and coaxing, lifted her face to his andrubbed her cheek against his waistcoat, much as a cat might have done. 

"Where's the fine house?" she whispered in laughing embarrassment, likea little girl who returns to the pleasant things she has previouslyrefused. 

"In the Avenue de Villiers. "

"And there are carriages there?"

"Yes. "

"Lace? Diamonds?"

"Yes. "

"Oh, how good you are, my old pet! You know it was all jealousy justnow! And this time I solemnly promise you it won't be like the first, for now you understand what's due to a woman. You give all, don't you?Well then, I don't want anybody but you! Why, look here, there's somemore for you! There and there AND there!"

When she had pushed him from the room after firing his blood with a rainof kisses on hands and on face, she panted awhile. Good heavens, what anunpleasant smell there was in that slut Mathilde's dressing room! Itwas warm, if you will, with the tranquil warmth peculiar to rooms in thesouth when the winter sun shines into them, but really, it smelled fartoo strong of stale lavender water, not to mention other less cleanlythings! She opened the window and, again leaning on the window sill, began watching the glass roof of the passage below in order to killtime. 

Muffat went staggering downstairs. His head was swimming. What shouldhe say? How should he broach the matter which, moreover, did not concernhim? He heard sounds of quarreling as he reached the stage. The secondact was being finished, and Prulliere was beside himself with wrath, owing to an attempt on Fauchery's part to cut short one of his speeches. 

"Cut it all out then, " he was shouting. "I should prefer that! Justfancy, I haven't two hundred lines, and they're still cutting me down. No, by Jove, I've had enough of it; I give the part up. "

He took a little crumpled manuscript book out of his pocket and fingeredits leaves feverishly, as though he were just about to throw it onCossard's lap. His pale face was convulsed by outraged vanity; his lipswere drawn and thin, his eyes flamed; he was quite unable to conceal thestruggle that was going on inside him. To think that he, Prulliere, theidol of the public, should play a part of only two hundred lines!

"Why not make me bring in letters on a tray?" he continued bitterly. 

"Come, come, Prulliere, behave decently, " said Bordenave, who wasanxious to treat him tenderly because of his influence over the boxes. "Don't begin making a fuss. We'll find some points. Eh, Fauchery, you'lladd some points? In the third act it would even be possible to lengthena scene out. "

"Well then, I want the last speech of all, " the comedian declared. "Icertainly deserve to have it. "

Fauchery's silence seemed to give consent, and Prulliere, still greatlyagitated and discontented despite everything, put his part back into hispocket. Bosc and Fontan had appeared profoundly indifferent during thecourse of this explanation. Let each man fight for his own hand, theyreflected; the present dispute had nothing to do with them; they hadno interest therein! All the actors clustered round Fauchery and beganquestioning him and fishing for praise, while Mignon listened to thelast of Prulliere's complaints without, however, losing sight of CountMuffat, whose return he had been on the watch for. 

Entering in the half-light, the count had paused at the back of thestage, for he hesitated to interrupt the quarrel. But Bordenave caughtsight of him and ran forward. 

"Aren't they a pretty lot?" he muttered. "You can have no idea what I'vegot to undergo with that lot, Monsieur le Comte. Each man's vainer thanhis neighbor, and they're wretched players all the same, a scabby lot, always mixed up in some dirty business or other! Oh, they'd be delightedif I were to come to smash. But I beg pardon--I'm getting besidemyself. "

He ceased speaking, and silence reigned while Muffat sought how tobroach his announcement gently. But he failed and, in order to get outof his difficulty the more quickly, ended by an abrupt announcement:

"Nana wants the duchess's part. "

Bordenave gave a start and shouted:

"Come now, it's sheer madness!"

Then looking at the count and finding him so pale and so shaken, he wascalm at once. 

"Devil take it!" he said simply. 

And with that there ensued a fresh silence. At bottom he didn't care apin about it. That great thing Nana playing the duchess might possiblyprove amusing! Besides, now that this had happened he had Muffat well inhis grasp. Accordingly he was not long in coming to a decision, and sohe turned round and called out:

"Fauchery!"

The count had been on the point of stopping him. But Fauchery did nothear him, for he had been pinned against the curtain by Fontan and wasbeing compelled to listen patiently to the comedian's reading ofthe part of Tardiveau. Fontan imagined Tardiveau to be a native ofMarseilles with a dialect, and he imitated the dialect. He was repeatingwhole speeches. Was that right? Was this the thing? Apparently he wasonly submitting ideas to Fauchery of which he was himself uncertain, butas the author seemed cold and raised various objections, he grew angryat once. 

Oh, very well, the moment the spirit of the part escaped him it would bebetter for all concerned that he shouldn't act it at all!

"Fauchery!" shouted Bordenave once more. 

Thereupon the young man ran off, delighted to escape from the actor, whowas wounded not a little by his prompt retreat. 

"Don't let's stay here, " continued Bordenave. "Come this way, gentlemen. "

In order to escape from curious listeners he led them into the propertyroom behind the scenes, while Mignon watched their disappearance in somesurprise. They went down a few steps and entered a square room, whosetwo windows opened upon the courtyard. A faint light stole through thedirty panes and hung wanly under the low ceiling. In pigeonholes andshelves, which filled the whole place up, lay a collection of the mostvaried kind of bric-a-brac. Indeed, it suggested an old-clothes shopin the Rue de Lappe in process of selling off, so indescribable was thehotchpotch of plates, gilt pasteboard cups, old red umbrellas, Italianjars, clocks in all styles, platters and inkpots, firearms and squirts, which lay chipped and broken and in unrecognizable heaps under a layerof dust an inch deep. An unendurable odor of old iron, rags and dampcardboard emanated from the various piles, where the debris of forgottendramas had been collecting for half a century. 

"Come in, " Bordenave repeated. "We shall be alone, at any rate. "

The count was extremely embarrassed, and he contrived to let the managerrisk his proposal for him. Fauchery was astonished. 

"Eh? What?" he asked. 

"Just this, " said Bordenave finally. "An idea has occurred to us. Nowwhatever you do, don't jump! It's most serious. What do you think ofNana for the duchess's part?"

The author was bewildered; then he burst out with:

"Ah no, no! You're joking, aren't you? People would laugh far too much. "

"Well, and it's a point gained already if they do laugh! Just reflect, my dear boy. The idea pleases Monsieur le Comte very much. "

In order to keep himself in countenance Muffat had just picked outof the dust on a neighboring shelf an object which he did not seem torecognize. It was an eggcup, and its stem had been mended with plaster. He kept hold of it unconsciously and came forward, muttering:

"Yes, yes, it would be capital. "

Fauchery turned toward him with a brisk, impatient gesture. The counthad nothing to do with his piece, and he said decisively:

"Never! Let Nana play the courtesan as much as she likes, but alady--No, by Jove!"

"You are mistaken, I assure you, " rejoined the count, growing bolder. "This very minute she has been playing the part of a pure woman for mybenefit. "

"Where?" queried Fauchery with growing surprise. 

"Upstairs in a dressing room. Yes, she has, indeed, and with suchdistinction! She's got a way of glancing at you as she goes byyou--something like this, you know!"

And eggcup in hand, he endeavored to imitate Nana, quite forgetting hisdignity in his frantic desire to convince the others. Fauchery gazed athim in a state of stupefaction. He understood it all now, and his angerhad ceased. The count felt that he was looking at him mockingly andpityingly, and he paused with a slight blush on his face. 

"Egad, it's quite possible!" muttered the author complaisantly. "Perhapsshe would do very well, only the part's been assigned. We can't take itaway from Rose. "

"Oh, if that's all the trouble, " said Bordenave, "I'll undertake toarrange matters. "

But presently, seeing them both against him and guessing that Bordenavehad some secret interest at stake, the young man thought to avoidaquiescence by redoubling the violence of his refusal. The consultationwas on the verge of being broken up. 

"Oh, dear! No, no! Even if the part were unassigned I should never giveit her! There, is that plain? Do let me alone; I have no wish to ruin myplay!"

He lapsed into silent embarrassment. Bordenave, deeming himself DE TROP, went away, but the count remained with bowed head. He raised it with aneffort and said in a breaking voice:

"Supposing, my dear fellow, I were to ask this of you as a favor?"

"I cannot, I cannot, " Fauchery kept repeating as he writhed to get free. 

Muffat's voice became harder. 

"I pray and beseech you for it! I want it!"

And with that he fixed his eyes on him. The young man read menaces inthat darkling gaze and suddenly gave way with a splutter of confusedphrases:

"Do what you like--I don't care a pin about it. Yes, yes, you're abusingyour power, but you'll see, you'll see!"

At this the embarrassment of both increased. Fauchery was leaning upagainst a set of shelves and was tapping nervously on the ground withhis foot. Muffat seemed busy examining the eggcup, which he was stillturning round and about. 

"It's an eggcup, " Bordenave obligingly came and remarked. 

"Yes, to be sure! It's an eggeup, " the count repeated. 

"Excuse me, you're covered with dust, " continued the manager, puttingthe thing back on a shelf. "If one had to dust every day there'd be noend to it, you understand. But it's hardly clean here--a filthy mess, eh? Yet you may believe me or not when I tell you there's money in it. Now look, just look at all that!"

He walked Muffat round in front of the pigeonholes and shelves and inthe greenish light which filtered through the courtyard, told him thenames of different properties, for he was anxious to interest him in hismarine-stores inventory, as he jocosely termed it. 

Presently, when they had returned into Fauchery's neighborhood, he saidcarelessly enough:

"Listen, since we're all of one mind, we'll finish the matter at once. Here's Mignon, just when he's wanted. "

For some little time past Mignon had been prowling in the adjoiningpassage, and the very moment Bordenave began talking of a modificationof their agreement he burst into wrathful protest. It was infamous--theywanted to spoil his wife's career--he'd go to law about it! Bordenave, meanwhile, was extremely calm and full of reasons. He did not think thepart worthy of Rose, and he preferred to reserve her for an operetta, which was to be put on after the Petite Duchesse. But when her husbandstill continued shouting he suddenly offered to cancel their arrangementin view of the offers which the Folies-Dramatiques had been making thesinger. At this Mignon was momentarily put out, so without denying thetruth of these offers he loudly professed a vast disdain for money. His wife, he said, had been engaged to play the Duchess Helene, and shewould play the part even if he, Mignon, were to be ruined over it. His dignity, his honor, were at stake! Starting from this basis, thediscussion grew interminable. The manager, however, always returned tothe following argument: since the Folies had offered Rose three hundredfrancs a night during a hundred performances, and since she only made ahundred and fifty with him, she would be the gainer by fifteen thousandfrancs the moment he let her depart. The husband, on his part, did notdesert the artist's position. What would people say if they saw his wifedeprived of her part? Why, that she was not equal to it; that it hadbeen deemed necessary to find a substitute for her! And this would dogreat harm to Rose's reputation as an artist; nay, it would diminish it. Oh no, no! Glory before gain! Then without a word of warning hepointed out a possible arrangement: Rose, according to the terms of heragreement, was pledged to pay a forfeit of ten thousand francs in caseshe gave up the part. Very well then, let them give her ten thousandfrancs, and she would go to the Folies-Dramatiques. Bordenave wasutterly dumfounded while Mignon, who had never once taken his eyes offthe count, tranquilly awaited results. 

"Then everything can be settled, " murmured Muffat in tones of relief;"we can come to an understanding. "

"The deuce, no! That would be too stupid!" cried Bordenave, masteredby his commercial instincts. "Ten thousand francs to let Rose go! Why, people would make game of me!"

But the count, with a multiplicity of nods, bade him accept. Hehesitated, and at last with much grumbling and infinite regret over theten thousand francs which, by the by, were not destined to come out ofhis own pocket he bluntly continued:

"After all, I consent. At any rate, I shall have you off my hands. "

For a quarter of an hour past Fontan had been listening in thecourtyard. Such had been his curiosity that he had come down and postedhimself there, but the moment he understood the state of the case hewent upstairs again and enjoyed the treat of telling Rose. Dear me! Theywere just haggling in her behalf! He dinned his words into her ears;she ran off to the property room. They were silent as she entered. Shelooked at the four men. Muffat hung his head; Fauchery answered herquestioning glance with a despairing shrug of the shoulders; asto Mignon, he was busy discussing the terms of the agreement withBordenave. 

"What's up?" she demanded curtly. 

"Nothing, " said her husband. "Bordenave here is giving ten thousandfrancs in order to get you to give up your part. "

She grew tremulous with anger and very pale, and she clenched her littlefists. For some moments she stared at him, her whole nature in revolt. Ordinarily in matters of business she was wont to trust everythingobediently to her husband, leaving him to sign agreements with managersand lovers. Now she could but cry:

"Oh, come, you're too base for anything!"

The words fell like a lash. Then she sped away, and Mignon, in utterastonishment, ran after her. What next? Was she going mad? He beganexplaining to her in low tones that ten thousand francs from one partyand fifteen thousand from the other came to twenty-five thousand. Asplendid deal! Muffat was getting rid of her in every sense of the word;it was a pretty trick to have plucked him of this last feather! But Rosein her anger vouchsafed no answer. Whereupon Mignon in disdain left herto her feminine spite and, turning to Bordenave, who was once more onthe stage with Fauchery and Muffat, said:

"We'll sign tomorrow morning. Have the money in readiness. "

At this moment Nana, to whom Labordette had brought the news, came downto the stage in triumph. She was quite the honest woman now and worea most distinguished expression in order to overwhelm her friends andprove to the idiots that when she chose she could give them all pointsin the matter of smartness. But she nearly got into trouble, for at thesight of her Rose darted forward, choking with rage and stuttering:

"Yes, you, I'll pay you out! Things can't go on like this; d'youunderstand?" Nana forgot herself in face of this brisk attack and wasgoing to put her arms akimbo and give her what for. But she controlledherself and, looking like a marquise who is afraid of treading on anorange peel, fluted in still more silvery tones. 

"Eh, what?" said she. "You're mad, my dear!"

And with that she continued in her graceful affectation while Rose tookher departure, followed by Mignon, who now refused to recognize her. Clarisse was enraptured, having just obtained the part of Geraldine fromBordenave. Fauchery, on the other hand, was gloomy; he shifted from onefoot to the other; he could not decide whether to leave the theater orno. His piece was bedeviled, and he was seeking how best to save it. ButNana came up, took him by both hands and, drawing him toward her, askedwhether he thought her so very atrocious after all. She wasn't goingto eat his play--not she! Then she made him laugh and gave him tounderstand that he would be foolish to be angry with her, in view ofhis relationship to the Muffats. If, she said, her memory failed her shewould take her lines from the prompter. The house, too, would be packedin such a way as to ensure applause. Besides, he was mistaken about her, and he would soon see how she would rattle through her part. By and byit was arranged that the author should make a few changes in the role ofthe duchess so as to extend that of Prulliere. The last-named personagewas enraptured. Indeed, amid all the joy which Nana now quite naturallydiffused, Fontan alone remained unmoved. In the middle of the yellowlamplight, against which the sharp outline of his goatlike profileshone out with great distinctness, he stood showing off his figure andaffecting the pose of one who has been cruelly abandoned. Nana wentquietly up and shook hands with him. 

"How are you getting on?"

"Oh, pretty fairly. And how are you?"

"Very well, thank you. "

That was all. They seemed to have only parted at the doors of thetheater the day before. Meanwhile the players were waiting about, butBordenave said that the third act would not be rehearsed. And so itchanced that old Bosc went grumbling away at the proper time, whereasusually the company were needlessly detained and lost whole afternoonsin consequence. Everyone went off. Down on the pavement they wereblinded by the broad daylight and stood blinking their eyes in a dazedsort of way, as became people who had passed three hours squabbling withtight-strung nerves in the depths of a cellar. The count, withracked limbs and vacant brain, got into a conveyance with Nana, whileLabordette took Fauchery off and comforted him. 

A month later the first night of the Petite Duchesse proved supremelydisastrous to Nana. She was atrociously bad and displayed suchpretentions toward high comedy that the public grew mirthful. Theydid not hiss--they were too amused. From a stage box Rose Mignon keptgreeting her rival's successive entrances with a shrill laugh, which setthe whole house off. It was the beginning of her revenge. Accordingly, when at night Nana, greatly chagrined, found herself alone with Muffat, she said furiously:

"What a conspiracy, eh? It's all owing to jealousy. Oh, if they onlyknew how I despise 'em! What do I want them for nowadays? Look here!I'll bet a hundred louis that I'll bring all those who made fun todayand make 'em lick the ground at my feet! Yes, I'll fine-lady your Parisfor you, I will!"

CHAPTER X

Thereupon Nana became a smart woman, mistress of all that is foolish andfilthy in man, marquise in the ranks of her calling. It was a sudden butdecisive start, a plunge into the garish day of gallant notoriety andmad expenditure and that daredevil wastefulness peculiar to beauty. She at once became queen among the most expensive of her kind. Herphotographs were displayed in shopwindows, and she was mentioned in thepapers. When she drove in her carriage along the boulevards the peoplewould turn and tell one another who that was with all the unction ofa nation saluting its sovereign, while the object of their adorationlolled easily back in her diaphanous dresses and smiled gaily under therain of little golden curls which ran riot above the blue of her made-upeyes and the red of her painted lips. And the wonder of wonders was thatthe great creature, who was so awkward on the stage, so very absurd themoment she sought to act the chaste woman, was able without effort toassume the role of an enchantress in the outer world. Her movementswere lithe as a serpent's, and the studied and yet seemingly involuntarycarelessness with which she dressed was really exquisite in itselegance. There was a nervous distinction in all she did which suggesteda wellborn Persian cat; she was an aristocrat in vice and proudly andrebelliously trampled upon a prostrate Paris like a sovereign whom nonedare disobey. She set the fashion, and great ladies imitated her. 

Nana's fine house was situated at the corner of the Rue Cardinet, in theAvenue de Villiers. The avenue was part of the luxurious quarter at thattime springing up in the vague district which had once been thePlaine Monceau. The house had been built by a young painter, who wasintoxicated by a first success, and had been perforce resold almost assoon as it was habitable. It was in the palatial Renaissance mannerand had fantastic interior arrangements which consisted of modernconveniences framed in a setting of somewhat artificial originality. Count Muffat had bought the house ready furnished and full of hosts ofbeautiful objects--lovely Eastern hangings, old credences, hugechairs of the Louis XIII epoch. And thus Nana had come into artisticsurroundings of the choicest kind and of the most extravagantly variousdates. But since the studio, which occupied the central portion ofthe house, could not be of any use to her, she had upset existingarrangements, establishing a small drawing room on the first floor, nextto her bedroom and dressing room, and leaving a conservatory, a largedrawing room and a dining room to look after themselves underneath. She astonished the architect with her ideas, for, as became a Parisianworkgirl who understands the elegancies of life by instinct, she hadsuddenly developed a very pretty taste for every species of luxuriousrefinement. Indeed, she did not spoil her house overmuch; nay, sheeven added to the richness of the furniture, save here and there, wherecertain traces of tender foolishness and vulgar magnificence betrayedthe ex-flower seller who had been wont to dream in front of shopwindowsin the arcades. 

A carpet was spread on the steps beneath the great awning over the frontdoor in the court, and the moment you entered the hall you were greetedby a perfume as of violets and a soft, warm atmosphere which thickhangings helped to produce. A window, whose yellow-and rose-coloredpanes suggested the warm pallor of human flesh, gave light to the widestaircase, at the foot of which a Negro in carved wood held out a silvertray full of visiting cards and four white marble women, with bosomsdisplayed, raised lamps in their uplifted hands. Bronzes and Chinesevases full of flowers, divans covered with old Persian rugs, armchairsupholstered in old tapestry, furnished the entrance hall, adornedthe stairheads and gave the first-floor landing the appearance of ananteroom. Here men's overcoats and hats were always in evidence, andthere were thick hangings which deadened every sound. It seemed a placeapart: on entering it you might have fancied yourself in a chapel, whosevery air was thrilling with devotion, whose very silence and seclusionwere fraught with mystery. 

Nana only opened the large and somewhat too-sumptuous Louis XVI drawingroom on those gala nights when she received society from the Tuileriesor strangers of distinction. Ordinarily she only came downstairs atmealtimes, and she would feel rather lost on such days as she lunchedby herself in the lofty dining room with its Gobelin tapestry and itsmonumental sideboard, adorned with old porcelain and marvelous pieces ofancient plate. She used to go upstairs again as quickly as possible, forher home was on the first floor, in the three rooms, the bed, dressingand small drawing room above described. Twice already she had done thebedchamber up anew: on the first occasion in mauve satin, on the secondin blue silk under lace. But she had not been satisfied with this; ithad struck her as "nohowish, " and she was still unsuccessfully seekingfor new colors and designs. On the elaborately upholstered bed, whichwas as low as a sofa, there were twenty thousand francs' worth of POINTDE VENISE lace. The furniture was lacquered blue and white under designsin silver filigree, and everywhere lay such numbers of white bearskinsthat they hid the carpet. This was a luxurious caprice on Nana's part, she having never been able to break herself of the habit of sitting onthe floor to take her stockings off. Next door to the bedroom the littlesaloon was full of an amusing medley of exquisitely artistic objects. Against the hangings of pale rose-colored silk--a faded Turkish rosecolor, embroidered with gold thread--a whole world of them stood sharplyoutlined. They were from every land and in every possible style. Therewere Italian cabinets, Spanish and Portuguese coffers, models of Chinesepagodas, a Japanese screen of precious workmanship, besides china, bronzes, embroidered silks, hangings of the finest needlework. Armchairswide as beds and sofas deep as alcoves suggested voluptuous idleness andthe somnolent life of the seraglio. The prevailing tone of the roomwas old gold blended with green and red, and nothing it contained tooforcibly indicated the presence of the courtesan save the luxuriousnessof the seats. Only two "biscuit" statuettes, a woman in her shift, hunting for fleas, and another with nothing at all on, walking on herhands and waving her feet in the air, sufficed to sully the room with anote of stupid originality. 

Through a door, which was nearly always ajar, the dressing room wasvisible. It was all in marble and glass with a white bath, silver jugsand basins and crystal and ivory appointments. A drawn curtain filledthe place with a clear twilight which seemed to slumber in the warmscent of violets, that suggestive perfume peculiar to Nana wherewith thewhole house, from the roof to the very courtyard, was penetrated. 

The furnishing of the house was a most important undertaking. Nanacertainly had Zoe with her, that girl so devoted to her fortunes. Formonths she had been tranquilly awaiting this abrupt, new departure, asbecame a woman who was certain of her powers of prescience, and now shewas triumphant; she was mistress of the house and was putting by a roundsum while serving Madame as honestly as possible. But a solitary lady'smaid was no longer sufficient. A butler, a coachman, a porter and a cookwere wanted. Besides, it was necessary to fill the stables. It was thenthat Labordette made himself most useful. He undertook to perform allsorts of errands which bored the count; he made a comfortable job of thepurchase of horses; he visited the coachbuilders; he guided the youngwoman in her choice of things. She was to be met with at the shops, leaning on his arm. Labordette even got in the servants--Charles, agreat, tall coachman, who had been in service with the Duc de Corbreuse;Julien, a little, smiling, much-becurled butler, and a married couple, of whom the wife Victorine became cook while the husband Francoiswas taken on as porter and footman. The last mentioned in powder andbreeches wore Nana's livery, which was a sky-blue one adorned withsilver lace, and he received visitors in the hall. The whole thing wasprincely in the correctness of its style. 

At the end of two months the house was set going. The cost had beenmore than three hundred thousand francs. There were eight horses in thestables, and five carriages in the coach houses, and of these five onewas a landau with silver embellishments, which for the moment occupiedthe attention of all Paris. And amid this great wealth Nana begansettling down and making her nest. After the third representation ofthe Petite Duchesse she had quitted the theater, leaving Bordenave tostruggle on against a bankruptcy which, despite the count's money, wasimminent. Nevertheless, she was still bitter about her failure. It addedto that other bitterness, the lesson Fontan had given her, a shamefullesson for which she held all men responsible. Accordingly she nowdeclared herself very firm and quite proof against sudden infatuations, but thoughts of vengeance took no hold of her volatile brain. What didmaintain a hold on it in the hours when she was not indignant was anever-wakeful lust of expenditure, added to a natural contempt for theman who paid and to a perpetual passion for consumption and waste, whichtook pride in the ruin of her lovers. 

At starting Nana put the count on a proper footing and clearly mappedout the conditions of their relationship. The count gave twelve thousandfrancs monthly, presents excepted, and demanded nothing in return saveabsolute fidelity. She swore fidelity but insisted also on being treatedwith the utmost consideration, on enjoying complete liberty as mistressof the house and on having her every wish respected. For instance, shewas to receive her friends every day, and he was to come only atstated times. In a word, he was to repose a blind confidence in her ineverything. And when he was seized with jealous anxiety and hesitated togrant what she wanted, she stood on her dignity and threatened to givehim back all he had given or even swore by little Louiset to performwhat she promised. This was to suffice him. There was no love wheremutual esteem was wanting. At the end of the first month Muffatrespected her. 

But she desired and obtained still more. Soon she began to influencehim, as became a good-natured courtesan. When he came to her in a moodycondition she cheered him up, confessed him and then gave him goodadvice. Little by little she interested herself in the annoyances ofhis home life, in his wife, in his daughter, in his love affairsand financial difficulties; she was very sensible, very fair andright-minded. On one occasion only did she let anger get the better ofher, and that was when he confided to her that doubtless Daguenet wasgoing to ask for his daughter Estelle in marriage. When the count beganmaking himself notorious Daguenet had thought it a wise move to breakoff with Nana. He had treated her like a base hussy and had sworn tosnatch his future father-in-law out of the creature's clutches. Inreturn Nana abused her old Mimi in a charming fashion. He was a renegadewho had devoured his fortune in the company of vile women; he had nomoral sense. True, he did not let them pay him money, but he profited bythat of others and only repaid them at rare intervals with a bouquet ora dinner. And when the count seemed inclined to find excuses for thesefailings she bluntly informed him that Daguenet had enjoyed her favors, and she added disgusting particulars. Muffat had grown ashen-pale. Therewas no question of the young man now. This would teach him to be lackingin gratitude!

Meanwhile the house had not been entirely furnished, when one eveningafter she had lavished the most energetic promises of fidelity on MuffatNana kept the Count Xavier de Vandeuvres for the night. For the lastfortnight he had been paying her assiduous court, visiting her andsending presents of flowers, and now she gave way not so much out ofsudden infatuation as to prove that she was a free woman. The idea ofgain followed later when, the day after, Vandeuvres helped her to pay abill which she did not wish to mention to the other man. From Vandeuvresshe would certainly derive from eight to ten thousand francs a month, and this would prove very useful as pocket money. In those days he wasfinishing the last of his fortune in an access of burning, feverishfolly. His horses and Lucy had devoured three of his farms, and at onegulp Nana was going to swallow his last chateau, near Amiens. He seemedin a hurry to sweep everything away, down to the ruins of the old towerbuilt by a Vandeuvres under Philip Augustus. He was mad for ruin andthought it a great thing to leave the last golden bezants of his coatof arms in the grasp of this courtesan, whom the world of Paris desired. He, too, accepted Nana's conditions, leaving her entire freedom ofaction and claiming her caresses only on certain days. He was not evennaively impassioned enough to require her to make vows. Muffat suspectednothing. As to Vandeuvres, he knew things would take place for acertainty, but he never made the least allusion to them and pretendedtotal ignorance, while his lips wore the subtle smile of the skepticalman of pleasure who does not seek the impossible, provided he can havehis day and that Paris is aware of it. 

From that time forth Nana's house was really properly appointed. Thestaff of servants was complete in the stable, in the kitchen and in mylady's chamber. Zoe organized everything and passed successfully throughthe most unforeseen difficulties. The household moved as easily asthe scenery in a theater and was regulated like a grand administrativeconcern. Indeed, it worked with such precision that during the earlymonths there were no jars and no derangements. Madame, however, painedZoe extremely with her imprudent acts, her sudden fits of unwisdom, hermad bravado. Still the lady's maid grew gradually lenient, for she hadnoticed that she made increased profits in seasons of wanton waste whenMadame had committed a folly which must be made up for. It was then thatthe presents began raining on her, and she fished up many a louis out ofthe troubled waters. 

One morning when Muffat had not yet left the bedroom Zoe ushered agentleman into the dressing room, where Nana was changing her underwear. He was trembling violently. 

"Good gracious! It's Zizi!" said the young woman in great astonishment. 

It was, indeed, Georges. But when he saw her in her shift, with hergolden hair over her bare shoulders, he threw his arms round herneck and round her waist and kissed her in all directions. She beganstruggling to get free, for she was frightened, and in smothered tonesshe stammered:

"Do leave off! He's there! Oh, it's silly of you! And you, Zoe, are youout of your senses? Take him away and keep him downstairs; I'll try andcome down. "

Zoe had to push him in front of her. When Nana was able to rejoin themin the drawing room downstairs she scolded them both, and Zoe pursed upher lips and took her departure with a vexed expression, remarking thatshe had only been anxious to give Madame a pleasure. Georges was so gladto see Nana again and gazed at her with such delight that his fine eyesbegan filling with tears. The miserable days were over now; his motherbelieved him to have grown reasonable and had allowed him to leave LesFondettes. Accordingly, the moment he had reached the terminus, he hadgot a conveyance in order the more quickly to come and kiss his sweetdarling. He spoke of living at her side in future, as he used to do downin the country when he waited for her, barefooted, in the bedroom atLa Mignotte. And as he told her about himself, he let his fingers creepforward, for he longed to touch her after that cruel year of separation. Then he got possession of her hands, felt about the wide sleeves of herdressing jacket, traveled up as far as her shoulders. 

"You still love your baby?" he asked in his child voice. 

"Oh, I certainly love him!" answered Nana, briskly getting out of hisclutches. "But you come popping in without warning. You know, my littleman, I'm not my own mistress; you must be good!"

Georges, when he got out of his cab, had been so dizzy with the feelingthat his long desire was at last about to be satisfied that he hadnot even noticed what sort of house he was entering. But now hebecame conscious of a change in the things around him. He examined thesumptuous dining room with its lofty decorated ceiling, its Gobelinhangings, its buffet blazing with plate. 

"Yes, yes!" he remarked sadly. 

And with that she made him understand that he was never to come in themornings but between four and six in the afternoon, if he cared to. That was her reception time. Then as he looked at her with suppliant, questioning eyes and craved no boon at all, she, in her turn, kissed himon the forehead in the most amiable way. 

"Be very good, " she whispered. "I'll do all I can. "

But the truth was that this remark now meant nothing. She thoughtGeorges very nice and would have liked him as a companion, but asnothing else. Nevertheless, when he arrived daily at four o'clock heseemed so wretched that she was often fain to be as compliant as of oldand would hide him in cupboards and constantly allow him to pick up thecrumbs from Beauty's table. He hardly ever left the house now andbecame as much one of its inmates as the little dog Bijou. Together theynestled among Mistress's skirts and enjoyed a little of her at a time, even when she was with another man, while doles of sugar and straycaresses not seldom fell to their share in her hours of loneliness andboredom. 

Doubtless Mme Hugon found out that the lad had again returned to thatwicked woman's arms, for she hurried up to Paris and came and sought aidfrom her other son, the Lieutenant Philippe, who was then in garrisonat Vincennes. Georges, who was hiding from his elder brother, was seizedwith despairing apprehension, for he feared the latter might adoptviolent tactics, and as his tenderness for Nana was so nervouslyexpansive that he could not keep anything from her, he soon begantalking of nothing but his big brother, a great, strong fellow, who wascapable of all kinds of things. 

"You know, " he explained, "Mamma won't come to you while she can send mybrother. Oh, she'll certainly send Philippe to fetch me. "

The first time he said this Nana was deeply wounded. She said frigidly:

"Gracious me, I should like to see him come! For all that he's alieutenant in the army, Francois will chuck him out in double-quicktime!"

Soon, as the lad kept returning to the subject of his brother, she endedby taking a certain interest in Philippe, and in a week's time she knewhim from head to foot--knew him as very tall and very strong and merryand somewhat rough. She learned intimate details, too, and foundout that he had hair on his arms and a birthmark on his shoulder. Sothoroughly did she learn her lesson that one day, when she was full ofthe image of the man who was to be turned out of doors by her orders, she cried out:

"I say, Zizi, your brother's not coming. He's a base deserter!"

The next day, when Georges and Nana were alone together, Francois cameupstairs to ask whether Madame would receive Lieutenant Philippe Hugon. Georges grew extremely white and murmured:

"I suspected it; Mamma was talking about it this morning. "

And he besought the young woman to send down word that she could not seevisitors. But she was already on her feet and seemed all aflame as shesaid:

"Why should I not see him? He would think me afraid. Dear me, we'll havea good laugh! Just leave the gentleman in the drawing room for a quarterof an hour, Francois; afterward bring him up to me. "

She did not sit down again but began pacing feverishly to and frobetween the fireplace and a Venetian mirror hanging above an Italianchest. And each time she reached the latter she glanced at the glassand tried the effect of a smile, while Georges sat nervously on a sofa, trembling at the thought of the coming scene. As she walked up and downshe kept jerking out such little phrases as:

"It will calm the fellow down if he has to wait a quarter of an hour. Besides, if he thinks he's calling on a tottie the drawing room willstun him! Yes, yes, have a good look at everything, my fine fellow! Itisn't imitation, and it'll teach you to respect the lady who owns it. Respect's what men need to feel! The quarter of an hour's gone by, eh?No? Only ten minutes? Oh, we've got plenty of time. "

She did not stay where she was, however. At the end of the quarter ofan hour she sent Georges away after making him solemnly promise not tolisten at the door, as such conduct would scarcely look proper in casethe servants saw him. As he went into her bedroom Zizi ventured in achoking sort of way to remark:

"It's my brother, you know--"

"Don't you fear, " she said with much dignity; "if he's polite I'll bepolite. "

Francois ushered in Philippe Hugon, who wore morning dress. Georgesbegan crossing on tiptoe on the other side of the room, for he wasanxious to obey the young woman. But the sound of voices retained him, and he hesitated in such anguish of mind that his knees gave way underhim. He began imagining that a dread catastrophe would befall, thatblows would be struck, that something abominable would happen, whichwould make Nana everlastingly odious to him. And so he could notwithstand the temptation to come back and put his ear against the door. He heard very ill, for the thick portieres deadened every sound, buthe managed to catch certain words spoken by Philippe, stern phrases inwhich such terms as "mere child, " "family, " "honor, " were distinctlyaudible. He was so anxious about his darling's possible answers that hisheart beat violently and filled his head with a confused, buzzing noise. She was sure to give vent to a "Dirty blackguard!" or to a "Leave mebloody well alone! I'm in my own house!" But nothing happened--not abreath came from her direction. Nana seemed dead in there! Soon even hisbrother's voice grew gentler, and he could not make it out at all, whena strange murmuring sound finally stupefied him. Nana was sobbing! Fora moment or two he was the prey of contending feelings and knew notwhether to run away or to fall upon Philippe. But just then Zoe cameinto the room, and he withdrew from the door, ashamed at being thussurprised. 

She began quietly to put some linen away in a cupboard while he stoodmute and motionless, pressing his forehead against a windowpane. He wastortured by uncertainty. After a short silence the woman asked:

"It's your brother that's with Madame?"

"Yes, " replied the lad in a choking voice. 

There was a fresh silence. 

"And it makes you anxious, doesn't it, Monsieur Georges?"

"Yes, " he rejoined in the same painful, suffering tone. 

Zoe was in no hurry. She folded up some lace and said slowly:

"You're wrong; Madame will manage it all. "

And then the conversation ended; they said not another word. Still shedid not leave the room. A long quarter of an hour passed, and sheturned round again without seeming to notice the look of exasperationoverspreading the lad's face, which was already white with the effectsof uncertainty and constraint. He was casting sidelong glances in thedirection of the drawing room. 

Maybe Nana was still crying. The other must have grown savage and havedealt her blows. Thus when Zoe finally took her departure he ran to thedoor and once more pressed his ear against it. He was thunderstruck; hishead swam, for he heard a brisk outburst of gaiety, tender, whisperingvoices and the smothered giggles of a woman who is being tickled. Besides, almost directly afterward, Nana conducted Philippe to thehead of the stairs, and there was an exchange of cordial and familiarphrases. 

When Georges again ventured into the drawing room the young woman wasstanding before the mirror, looking at herself. 

"Well?" he asked in utter bewilderment. 

"Well, what?" she said without turning round. Then negligently:

"What did you mean? He's very nice, is your brother!"

"So it's all right, is it?"

"Oh, certainly it's all right! Goodness me, what's come over you? Onewould have thought we were going to fight!"

Georges still failed to understand. 

"I thought I heard--that is, you didn't cry?" he stammered out. 

"Me cry!" she exclaimed, looking fixedly at him. "Why, you're dreaming!What makes you think I cried?"

Thereupon the lad was treated to a distressing scene for havingdisobeyed and played Paul Pry behind the door. She sulked, and hereturned with coaxing submissiveness to the old subject, for he wishedto know all about it. 

"And my brother then?"

"Your brother saw where he was at once. You know, I might have been atottie, in which case his interference would have been accounted forby your age and the family honor! Oh yes, I understand those kinds offeelings! But a single glance was enough for him, and he behaved likea well-bred man at once. So don't be anxious any longer. It's allover--he's gone to quiet your mamma!"

And she went on laughingly:

"For that matter, you'll see your brother here. I've invited him, andhe's going to return. "

"Oh, he's going to return, " said the lad, growing white. He addednothing, and they ceased talking of Philippe. She began dressing to goout, and he watched her with his great, sad eyes. Doubtless he was veryglad that matters had got settled, for he would have preferred death toa rupture of their connection, but deep down in his heart there was asilent anguish, a profound sense of pain, which he had no experience ofand dared not talk about. How Philippe quieted their mother's fearshe never knew, but three days later she returned to Les Fondettes, apparently satisfied. On the evening of her return, at Nana's house, hetrembled when Francois announced the lieutenant, but the latter jestedgaily and treated him like a young rascal, whose escapade he had favoredas something not likely to have any consequences. The lad's heart wassore within him; he scarcely dared move and blushed girlishly at theleast word that was spoken to him. He had not lived much in Philippe'ssociety; he was ten years his junior, and he feared him as he woulda father, from whom stories about women are concealed. Accordingly heexperienced an uneasy sense of shame when he saw him so free in Nana'scompany and heard him laugh uproariously, as became a man who wasplunging into a life of pleasure with the gusto born of magnificenthealth. Nevertheless, when his brother shortly began to present himselfevery day, Georges ended by getting somewhat used to it all. Nana wasradiant. 

This, her latest installation, had been involving all the riotous wasteattendant on the life of gallantry, and now her housewarming was beingdefiantly celebrated in a grand mansion positively overflowing withmales and with furniture. 

One afternoon when the Hugons were there Count Muffat arrived out ofhours. But when Zoe told him that Madame was with friends he refusedto come in and took his departure discreetly, as became a gallantgentleman. When he made his appearance again in the evening Nanareceived him with the frigid indignation of a grossly affronted woman. 

"Sir, " she said, "I have given you no cause why you should insult me. You must understand this: when I am at home to visitors, I beg you tomake your appearance just like other people. "

The count simply gaped in astonishment. "But, my dear--" he endeavoredto explain. 

"Perhaps it was because I had visitors! Yes, there were men here, butwhat d'you suppose I was doing with those men? You only advertise awoman's affairs when you act the discreet lover, and I don't want to beadvertised; I don't!"

He obtained his pardon with difficulty, but at bottom he was enchanted. It was with scenes such as these that she kept him in unquestioning anddocile submission. She had long since succeeded in imposing Georges onhim as a young vagabond who, she declared, amused her. She made him dinewith Philippe, and the count behaved with great amiability. When theyrose from table he took the young man on one side and asked news of hismother. From that time forth the young Hugons, Vandeuvres and Muffatwere openly about the house and shook hands as guests and intimatesmight have done. It was a more convenient arrangement than the previousone. Muffat alone still abstained discreetly from too-frequent visits, thus adhering to the ceremonious policy of an ordinary strange caller. At night when Nana was sitting on her bearskins drawing off herstockings, he would talk amicably about the other three gentlemen andlay especial stress on Philippe, who was loyalty itself. 

"It's very true; they're nice, " Nana would say as she lingered on thefloor to change her shift. "Only, you know, they see what I am. One wordabout it and I should chuck 'em all out of doors for you!"

Nevertheless, despite her luxurious life and her group of courtiers, Nana was nearly bored to death. She had men for every minute of thenight, and money overflowed even among the brushes and combs in thedrawers of her dressing table. But all this had ceased to satisfyher; she felt that there was a void somewhere or other, an empty placeprovocative of yawns. Her life dragged on, devoid of occupation, andsuccessive days only brought back the same monotonous hours. Tomorrowhad ceased to be; she lived like a bird: sure of her food and ready toperch and roost on any branch which she came to. This certainty of foodand drink left her lolling effortless for whole days, lulled her tosleep in conventual idleness and submission as though she were theprisoner of her trade. Never going out except to drive, she was losingher walking powers. She reverted to low childish tastes, would kissBijou from morning to night and kill time with stupid pleasures whilewaiting for the man whose caresses she tolerated with an appearance ofcomplaisant lassitude. Amid this species of self-abandonment she nowtook no thought about anything save her personal beauty; her sole carewas to look after herself, to wash and to perfume her limbs, as becameone who was proud of being able to undress at any moment and in face ofanybody without having to blush for her imperfections. 

At ten in the morning Nana would get up. Bijou, the Scotch griffon dog, used to lick her face and wake her, and then would ensue a game of playlasting some five minutes, during which the dog would race about overher arms and legs and cause Count Muffat much distress. Bijou was thefirst little male he had ever been jealous of. It was not at allproper, he thought, that an animal should go poking its nose under thebedclothes like that! After this Nana would proceed to her dressingroom, where she took a bath. Toward eleven o'clock Francois would comeand do up her hair before beginning the elaborate manipulations of theafternoon. 

At breakfast, as she hated feeding alone, she nearly always had MmeMaloir at table with her. This lady would arrive from unknown regions inthe morning, wearing her extravagantly quaint hats, and would returnat night to that mysterious existence of hers, about which no one evertroubled. But the hardest to bear were the two or three hours betweenlunch and the toilet. On ordinary occasions she proposed a game ofbezique to her old friend; on others she would read the Figaro, in whichthe theatrical echoes and the fashionable news interested her. Sometimesshe even opened a book, for she fancied herself in literary matters. Hertoilet kept her till close on five o'clock, and then only she would wakefrom her daylong drowse and drive out or receive a whole mob of men ather own house. She would often dine abroad and always go to bed verylate, only to rise again on the morrow with the same languor as beforeand to begin another day, differing in nothing from its predecessor. 

The great distraction was to go to the Batignolles and see her littleLouis at her aunt's. For a fortnight at a time she forgot all about him, and then would follow an access of maternal love, and she would hurryoff on foot with all the modesty and tenderness becoming a good mother. On such occasions she would be the bearer of snuff for her aunt and oforanges and biscuits for the child, the kind of presents one takes to ahospital. Or again she would drive up in her landau on her return fromthe Bois, decked in costumes, the resplendence of which greatly excitedthe dwellers in the solitary street. Since her niece's magnificentelevation Mme Lerat had been puffed up with vanity. She rarely presentedherself in the Avenue de Villiers, for she was pleased to remark that itwasn't her place to do so, but she enjoyed triumphs in her own street. She was delighted when the young woman arrived in dresses that had costfour or five thousand francs and would be occupied during the wholeof the next day in showing off her presents and in citing prices whichquite stupefied the neighbors. As often as not, Nana kept Sunday freefor the sake of "her family, " and on such occasions, if Muffat invitedher, she would refuse with the smile of a good little shopwoman. Itwas impossible, she would answer; she was dining at her aunt's; she wasgoing to see Baby. Moreover, that poor little man Louiset was alwaysill. He was almost three years old, growing quite a great boy! But hehad had an eczema on the back of his neck, and now concretions wereforming in his ears, which pointed, it was feared, to decay of the bonesof the skull. When she saw how pale he looked, with his spoiled bloodand his flabby flesh all out in yellow patches, she would becomeserious, but her principal feeling would be one of astonishment. Whatcould be the matter with the little love that he should grow so weakly?She, his mother, was so strong and well!

On the days when her child did not engross attention Nana would againsink back into the noisy monotony of her existence, with its drivesin the Bois, first nights at the theater, dinners and suppers at theMaison-d'Or or the Cafe Anglais, not to mention all the places of publicresort, all the spectacles to which crowds rushed--Mabille, the reviews, the races. But whatever happened she still felt that stupid, idle void, which caused her, as it were, to suffer internal cramps. Despite theincessant infatuations that possessed her heart, she would stretch outher arms with a gesture of immense weariness the moment she was leftalone. Solitude rendered her low spirited at once, for it brought herface to face with the emptiness and boredom within her. Extremely gayby nature and profession, she became dismal in solitude and would sumup her life in the following ejaculation, which recurred incessantlybetween her yawns:

"Oh, how the men bother me!"

One afternoon as she was returning home from a concert, Nana, on thesidewalk in the Rue Montmartre, noticed a woman trotting along indown-at-the-heel boots, dirty petticoats and a hat utterly ruined by therain. She recognized her suddenly. 

"Stop, Charles!" she shouted to the coachman and began calling: "Satin, Satin!"

Passers-by turned their heads; the whole street stared. Satin had drawnnear and was still further soiling herself against the carriage wheels. 

"Do get in, my dear girl, " said Nana tranquilly, disdaining theonlookers. 

And with that she picked her up and carried her off, though she was indisgusting contrast to her light blue landau and her dress of pearl-graysilk trimmed with Chantilly, while the street smiled at the coachman'sloftily dignified demeanor. 

From that day forth Nana had a passion to occupy her thoughts. Satinbecame her vicious foible. Washed and dressed and duly installed in thehouse in the Avenue de Villiers, during three days the girl talked ofSaint-Lazare and the annoyances the sisters had caused her and how thosedirty police people had put her down on the official list. Nana grewindignant and comforted her and vowed she would get her name taken off, even though she herself should have to go and find out the minister ofthe interior. Meanwhile there was no sort of hurry: nobody would comeand search for her at Nana's--that was certain. And thereupon thetwo women began to pass tender afternoons together, making numberlessendearing little speeches and mingling their kisses with laughter. The same little sport, which the arrival of the plainclothes men hadinterrupted in the Rue de Laval, was beginning again in a jocular sortof spirit. One fine evening, however, it became serious, and Nana, whohad been so disgusted at Laure's, now understood what it meant. She wasupset and enraged by it, the more so because Satin disappeared on themorning of the fourth day. No one had seen her go out. She had, indeed, slipped away in her new dress, seized by a longing for air, full ofsentimental regret for her old street existence. 

That day there was such a terrible storm in the house that all theservants hung their heads in sheepish silence. Nana had come nearbeating Francois for not throwing himself across the door through whichSatin escaped. She did her best, however, to control herself, and talkedof Satin as a dirty swine. Oh, it would teach her to pick filthy thingslike that out of the gutter!

When Madame shut herself up in her room in the afternoon Zoe heard hersobbing. In the evening she suddenly asked for her carriage and hadherself driven to Laure's. It had occurred to her that she would findSatin at the table d'hote in the Rue des Martyrs. She was not goingthere for the sake of seeing her again but in order to catch her one inthe face! As a matter of fact Satin was dining at a little table withMme Robert. Seeing Nana, she began to laugh, but the former, thoughwounded to the quick, did not make a scene. On the contrary, she wasvery sweet and very compliant. She paid for champagne made five or sixtablefuls tipsy and then carried off Satin when Mme Robert was in theclosets. Not till they were in the carriage did she make a mordantattack on her, threatening to kill her if she did it again. 

After that day the same little business began again continually. Ontwenty different occasions Nana, tragically furious, as only a jiltedwoman can be ran off in pursuit of this sluttish creature, whose flightswere prompted by the boredom she suffered amid the comforts of her newhome. Nana began to talk of boxing Mme Robert's ears; one day she evenmeditated a duel; there was one woman too many, she said. 

In these latter times, whenever she dined at Laure's, she donned herdiamonds and occasionally brought with her Louise Violaine, Maria Blondand Tatan Nene, all of them ablaze with finery; and while the sordidfeast was progressing in the three saloons and the yellow gaslightflared overhead, these four resplendent ladies would demean themselveswith a vengeance, for it was their delight to dazzle the little localcourtesans and to carry them off when dinner was over. On days such asthese Laure, sleek and tight-laced as ever would kiss everyone with anair of expanded maternity. Yet notwithstanding all these circumstancesSatin's blue eyes and pure virginal face remained as calm as heretofore;torn, beaten and pestered by the two women, she would simply remark thatit was a funny business, and they would have done far better to make itup at once. It did no good to slap her; she couldn't cut herself in two, however much she wanted to be nice to everybody. It was Nana who finallycarried her off in triumph, so assiduously had she loaded Satin withkindnesses and presents. In order to be revenged, however, Mme Robertwrote abominable, anonymous letters to her rival's lovers. 

For some time past Count Muffat had appeared suspicious, and onemorning, with considerable show of feeling, he laid before Nana ananonymous letter, where in the very first sentences she read that shewas accused of deceiving the count with Vandeuvres and the young Hugons. 

"It's false! It's false!" she loudly exclaimed in accents ofextraordinary candor. 

"You swear?" asked Muffat, already willing to be comforted. 

"I'll swear by whatever you like--yes, by the head of my child!"

But the letter was long. Soon her connection with Satin was describedin the broadest and most ignoble terms. When she had done reading shesmiled. 

"Now I know who it comes from, " she remarked simply. 

And as Muffat wanted her denial to the charges therein contained, sheresumed quietly enough:

"That's a matter which doesn't concern you, dear old pet. How can ithurt you?"

She did not deny anything. He used some horrified expressions. Thereuponshe shrugged her shoulders. Where had he been all this time? Why, itwas done everywhere! And she mentioned her friends and swore thatfashionable ladies went in for it. In fact, to hear her speak, nothingcould be commoner or more natural. But a lie was a lie, and so a momentago he had seen how angry she grew in the matter of Vandeuvres and theyoung Hugons! Oh, if that had been true he would have been justified inthrottling her! But what was the good of lying to him about a matter ofno consequence? And with that she repeated her previous expression:

"Come now, how can it hurt you?"

Then as the scene still continued, she closed it with a rough speech:

"Besides, dear boy, if the thing doesn't suit you it's very simple: thehouse door's open! There now, you must take me as you find me!"

He hung his head, for the young woman's vows of fidelity made him happyat bottom. She, however, now knew her power over him and ceased toconsider his feelings. And from that time forth Satin was openlyinstalled in the house on the same footing as the gentlemen. Vandeuvreshad not needed anonymous letters in order to understand how mattersstood, and accordingly he joked and tried to pick jealous quarrels withSatin. Philippe and Georges, on their parts, treated her like a jollygood fellow, shaking hands with her and cracking the riskiest jokesimaginable. 

Nana had an adventure one evening when this slut of a girl had given herthe go-by and she had gone to dine in the Rue des Martyrs without beingable to catch her. While she was dining by herself Daguenet had appearedon the scene, for although he had reformed, he still occasionallydropped in under the influence of his old vicious inclinations. He hopedof course that no one would meet him in these black recesses, dedicatedto the town's lowest depravity. Accordingly even Nana's presence seemedto embarrass him at the outset. But he was not the man to run away and, coming forward with a smile, he asked if Madame would be so kind as toallow him to dine at her table. Noticing his jocular tone, Nana assumedher magnificently frigid demeanor and icily replied:

"Sit down where you please, sir. We are in a public place. "

Thus begun, the conversation proved amusing. But at dessert Nana, boredand burning for a triumph, put her elbows on the table and began in theold familiar way:

"Well, what about your marriage, my lad? Is it getting on all right?"

"Not much, " Daguenet averred. 

As a matter of fact, just when he was about to venture on his request atthe Muffats', he had met with such a cold reception from the count thathe had prudently refrained. The business struck him as a failure. Nanafixed her clear eyes on him; she was sitting, leaning her chin on herhand, and there was an ironical curve about her lips. 

"Oh yes! I'm a baggage, " she resumed slowly. "Oh yes, the futurefather-in-law will have to be dragged from between my claws! Dear me, dear me, for a fellow with NOUS, you're jolly stupid! What! D'you meanto say you're going to tell your tales to a man who adores me and tellsme everything? Now just listen: you shall marry if I wish it, my littleman!"

For a minute or two he had felt the truth of this, and now he beganscheming out a method of submission. Nevertheless, he still talkedjokingly, not wishing the matter to grow serious, and after he had puton his gloves he demanded the hand of Mlle Estelle de Beuville in thestrict regulation manner. Nana ended by laughing, as though she hadbeen tickled. Oh, that Mimi! It was impossible to bear him a grudge!Daguenet's great successes with ladies of her class were due to thesweetness of his voice, a voice of such musical purity and pliancy asto have won him among courtesans the sobriquet of "Velvet-Mouth. "Every woman would give way to him when he lulled her with his sonorouscaresses. He knew this power and rocked Nana to sleep with endlesswords, telling her all kinds of idiotic anecdotes. When they left thetable d'hote she was blushing rosy-red; she trembled as she hung on hisarm; he had reconquered her. As it was very fine, she sent her carriageaway and walked with him as far as his own place, where she wentupstairs with him naturally enough. Two hours later, as she was dressingagain, she said:

"So you hold to this marriage of yours, Mimi?"

"Egad, " he muttered, "it's the best thing I could possibly do after all!You know I'm stony broke. "

She summoned him to button her boots, and after a pause:

"Good heavens! I've no objection. I'll shove you on! She's as dry asa lath, is that little thing, but since it suits your game--oh, I'magreeable: I'll run the thing through for you. "

Then with bosom still uncovered, she began laughing:

"Only what will you give me?"

He had caught her in his arms and was kissing her on the shoulders ina perfect access of gratitude while she quivered with excitement andstruggled merrily and threw herself backward in her efforts to be free. 

"Oh, I know, " she cried, excited by the contest. "Listen to what Iwant in the way of commission. On your wedding day you shall make me apresent of your innocence. Before your wife, d'you understand?"

"That's it! That's it!" he said, laughing even louder than Nana. 

The bargain amused them--they thought the whole business very good, indeed. 

Now as it happened, there was a dinner at Nana's next day. For thematter of that, it was the customary Thursday dinner, and Muffat, Vandeuvres, the young Hugons and Satin were present. The count arrivedearly. He stood in need of eighty thousand francs wherewith to free theyoung woman from two or three debts and to give her a set of sapphiresshe was dying to possess. As he had already seriously lessened hiscapital, he was in search of a lender, for he did not dare to sellanother property. With the advice of Nana herself he had addressedhimself to Labordette, but the latter, deeming it too heavy anundertaking, had mentioned it to the hairdresser Francis, who willinglybusied himself in such affairs in order to oblige his lady clients. The count put himself into the hands of these gentlemen but expresseda formal desire not to appear in the matter, and they both undertookto keep in hand the bill for a hundred thousand francs which he wasto sign, excusing themselves at the same time for charging a matter oftwenty thousand francs interest and loudly denouncing the blackguardusurers to whom, they declared, it had been necessary to have recourse. When Muffat had himself announced, Francis was putting the last touchesto Nana's coiffure. Labordette also was sitting familiarly in thedressing room, as became a friend of no consequence. Seeing the count, he discreetly placed a thick bundle of bank notes among the powders andpomades, and the bill was signed on the marble-topped dressing table. Nana was anxious to keep Labordette to dinner, but he declined--he wastaking a rich foreigner about Paris. Muffat, however, led him aside andbegged him to go to Becker, the jeweler, and bring him back thence theset of sapphires, which he wanted to present the young woman by wayof surprise that very evening. Labordette willingly undertook thecommission, and half an hour later Julien handed the jewel casemysteriously to the count. 

During dinnertime Nana was nervous. The sight of the eighty thousandfrancs had excited her. To think all that money was to go totradespeople! It was a disgusting thought. After soup had been servedshe grew sentimental, and in the splendid dining room, glittering withplate and glass, she talked of the bliss of poverty. The men were inevening dress, Nana in a gown of white embroidered satin, while Satinmade a more modest appearance in black silk with a simple gold heartat her throat, which was a present from her kind friend. Julien andFrancois waited behind the guests and were assisted in this by Zoe. Allthree looked most dignified. 

"It's certain I had far greater fun when I hadn't a cent!" Nanarepeated. 

She had placed Muffat on her right hand and Vandeuvres on her left, butshe scarcely looked at them, so taken up was she with Satin, who sat instate between Philippe and Georges on the opposite side of the table. 

"Eh, duckie?" she kept saying at every turn. "How we did use to laugh inthose days when we went to Mother Josse's school in the Rue Polonceau!"

When the roast was being served the two women plunged into a world ofreminiscences. They used to have regular chattering fits of this kindwhen a sudden desire to stir the muddy depths of their childhood wouldpossess them. These fits always occurred when men were present: it wasas though they had given way to a burning desire to treat them to thedunghill on which they had grown to woman's estate. The gentlemen paledvisibly and looked embarrassed. The young Hugons did their best tolaugh, while Vandeuvres nervously toyed with his beard and Muffatredoubled his gravity. 

"You remember Victor?" said Nana. "There was a wicked little fellow foryou! Why, he used to take the little girls into cellars!"

"I remember him perfectly, " replied Satin. "I recollect the bigcourtyard at your place very well. There was a portress there with abroom!"

"Mother Boche--she's dead. "

"And I can still picture your shop. Your mother was a great fatty. Oneevening when we were playing your father came in drunk. Oh, so drunk!"

At this point Vandeuvres tried to intercept the ladies' reminiscencesand to effect a diversion, "I say, my dear, I should be very glad to have some more truffles. They're simply perfect. Yesterday I had some at the house of the Duc deCorbreuse, which did not come up to them at all. "

"The truffles, Julien!" said Nana roughly. 

Then returning to the subject:

"By Jove, yes, Dad hadn't any sense! And then what a smash there was!You should have seen it--down, down, down we went, starving away all thetime. I can tell you I've had to bear pretty well everything and it's amiracle I didn't kick the bucket over it, like Daddy and Mamma. "

This time Muffat, who was playing with his knife in a state of infiniteexasperation, made so bold as to intervene. 

"What you're telling us isn't very cheerful. "

"Eh, what? Not cheerful!" she cried with a withering glance. "I believeyou; it isn't cheerful! Somebody had to earn a living for us dear boy. Oh yes, you know, I'm the right sort; I don't mince matters. Mamma wasa laundress; Daddy used to get drunk, and he died of it! There! If itdoesn't suit you--if you're ashamed of my family--"

They all protested. What was she after now? They had every sort ofrespect for her family! But she went on:

"If you're ashamed of my family you'll please leave me, because I'm notone of those women who deny their father and mother. You must take meand them together, d'you understand?"

They took her as required; they accepted the dad, the mamma, the past;in fact, whatever she chose. With their eyes fixed on the tablecloth, the four now sat shrinking and insignificant while Nana, in a transportof omnipotence, trampled on them in the old muddy boots worn long sincein the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or. She was determined not to lay down thecudgels just yet. It was all very fine to bring her fortunes, to buildher palaces; she would never leave off regretting the time when shemunched apples! Oh, what bosh that stupid thing money was! It was madefor the tradespeople! Finally her outburst ended in a sentimentallyexpressed desire for a simple, openhearted existence, to be passed in anatmosphere of universal benevolence. 

When she got to this point she noticed Julien waiting idly by. 

"Well, what's the matter? Hand the champagne then!" she said. "Why d'youstand staring at me like a goose?"

During this scene the servants had never once smiled. They apparentlyheard nothing, and the more their mistress let herself down, the moremajestic they became. Julien set to work to pour out the champagne anddid so without mishap, but Francois, who was handing round the fruit, was so unfortunate as to tilt the fruit dish too low, and the apples, the pears and the grapes rolled on the table. 

"You bloody clumsy lot!" cried Nana. 

The footman was mistaken enough to try and explain that the fruit hadnot been firmly piled up. Zoe had disarranged it by taking out someoranges. 

"Then it's Zoe that's the goose!" said Nana. 

"Madame--" murmured the lady's maid in an injured tone. 

Straightway Madame rose to her feet, and in a sharp voice and withroyally authoritative gesture:

"We've had enough of this, haven't we? Leave the room, all of you! Wedon't want you any longer!"

This summary procedure calmed her down, and she was forthwith allsweetness and amiability. The dessert proved charming, and the gentlemengrew quite merry waiting on themselves. But Satin, having peeled a pear, came and ate it behind her darling, leaning on her shoulder the whileand whispering sundry little remarks in her ear, at which they bothlaughed very loudly. By and by she wanted to share her last piece ofpear with Nana and presented it to her between her teeth. Whereuponthere was a great nibbling of lips, and the pear was finished amidkisses. At this there was a burst of comic protest from the gentlemen, Philippe shouting to them to take it easy and Vandeuvres asking if oneought to leave the room. Georges, meanwhile, had come and put his armround Satin's waist and had brought her back to her seat. 

"How silly of you!" said Nana. "You're making her blush, the poor, darling duck. Never mind, dear girl, let them chaff. It's our own littleprivate affair. "

And turning to Muffat, who was watching them with his seriousexpression:

"Isn't it, my friend?"

"Yes, certainly, " he murmured with a slow nod of approval. 

He no longer protested now. And so amid that company of gentlemen withthe great names and the old, upright traditions, the two women sat faceto face, exchanging tender glances, conquering, reigning, in tranquildefiance of the laws of sex, in open contempt for the male portion ofthe community. The gentlemen burst into applause. 

The company went upstairs to take coffee in the little drawing room, where a couple of lamps cast a soft glow over the rosy hangings and thelacquer and old gold of the knickknacks. At that hour of the eveningthe light played discreetly over coffers, bronzes and china, lighting upsilver or ivory inlaid work, bringing into view the polished contours ofa carved stick and gleaming over a panel with glossy silky reflections. The fire, which had been burning since the afternoon, was dying outin glowing embers. It was very warm--the air behind the curtains andhangings was languid with warmth. The room was full of Nana's intimateexistence: a pair of gloves, a fallen handkerchief, an open book, layscattered about, and their owner seemed present in careless attire withthat well-known odor of violets and that species of untidiness whichbecame her in her character of good-natured courtesan and had such acharming effect among all those rich surroundings. The very armchairs, which were as wide as beds, and the sofas, which were as deep asalcoves, invited to slumber oblivious of the flight of time and totender whispers in shadowy corners. 

Satin went and lolled back in the depths of a sofa near the fireplace. She had lit a cigarette, but Vandeuvres began amusing himself bypretending to be ferociously jealous. Nay, he even threatened to sendher his seconds if she still persisted in keeping Nana from her duty. Philippe and Georges joined him and teased her and badgered her somercilessly that at last she shouted out:

"Darling! Darling! Do make 'em keep quiet! They're still after me!"

"Now then, let her be, " said Nana seriously. "I won't have hertormented; you know that quite well. And you, my pet, why d'you alwaysgo mixing yourself up with them when they've got so little sense?"

Satin, blushing all over and putting out her tongue, went into thedressing room, through the widely open door of which you caught aglimpse of pale marbles gleaming in the milky light of a gas flame ina globe of rough glass. After that Nana talked to the four men ascharmingly as hostess could. During the day she had read a novel whichwas at that time making a good deal of noise. It was the history of acourtesan, and Nana was very indignant, declaring the whole thing to beuntrue and expressing angry dislike to that kind of monstrous literaturewhich pretends to paint from nature. "Just as though one could describeeverything, " she said. Just as though a novel ought not to be writtenso that the reader may while away an hour pleasantly! In the matter ofbooks and of plays Nana had very decided opinions: she wanted tender andnoble productions, things that would set her dreaming and would elevateher soul. Then allusion being made in the course of conversation to thetroubles agitating Paris, the incendiary articles in the papers, theincipient popular disturbances which followed the calls to arms nightlyraised at public meetings, she waxed wroth with the Republicans. Whaton earth did those dirty people who never washed really want? Were folksnot happy? Had not the emperor done everything for the people? A nicefilthy lot of people! She knew 'em; she could talk about 'em, and, quite forgetting the respect which at dinner she had just been insistingshould be paid to her humble circle in the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or, she began blackguarding her own class with all the terror and disgustpeculiar to a woman who had risen successfully above it. That veryafternoon she had read in the Figaro an account of the proceedings at apublic meeting which had verged on the comic. Owing to the slang wordsthat had been used and to the piggish behavior of a drunken man who hadgot himself chucked, she was laughing at those proceedings still. 

"Oh, those drunkards!" she said with a disgusted air. "No, look youhere, their republic would be a great misfortune for everybody! Oh, mayGod preserve us the emperor as long as possible!"

"God will hear your prayer, my dear, " Muffat replied gravely. "To besure, the emperor stands firm. "

He liked her to express such excellent views. Both, indeed, understoodone another in political matters. Vandeuvres and Philippe Hugon likewiseindulged in endless jokes against the "cads, " the quarrelsome set whoscuttled off the moment they clapped eyes on a bayonet. But Georges thatevening remained pale and somber. 

"What can be the matter with that baby?" asked Nana, noticing histroubled appearance. 

"With me? Nothing--I am listening, " he muttered. 

But he was really suffering. On rising from table he had heard Philippejoking with the young woman, and now it was Philippe, and not himself, who sat beside her. His heart, he knew not why, swelled to bursting. He could not bear to see them so close together; such vile thoughtsoppressed him that shame mingled with his anguish. He who laughedat Satin, who had accepted Steiner and Muffat and all the rest, feltoutraged and murderous at the thought that Philippe might someday touchthat woman. 

"Here, take Bijou, " she said to comfort him, and she passed him thelittle dog which had gone to sleep on her dress. 

And with that Georges grew happy again, for with the beast still warmfrom her lap in his arms, he held, as it were, part of her. 

Allusion had been made to a considerable loss which Vandeuvres hadlast night sustained at the Imperial Club. Muffat, who did not play, expressed great astonishment, but Vandeuvres smilingly alluded to hisimminent ruin, about which Paris was already talking. The kind of deathyou chose did not much matter, he averred; the great thing was to diehandsomely. For some time past Nana had noticed that he was nervous andhad a sharp downward droop of the mouth and a fitful gleam in the depthsof his clear eyes. But he retained his haughty aristocratic manner andthe delicate elegance of his impoverished race, and as yet thesestrange manifestations were only, so to speak, momentary fits of vertigoovercoming a brain already sapped by play and by debauchery. One nightas he lay beside her he had frightened her with a dreadful story. He hadtold her he contemplated shutting himself up in his stable and settingfire to himself and his horses at such time as he should have devouredall his substance. His only hope at that period was a horse, Lusignan byname, which he was training for the Prix de Paris. He was living on thishorse, which was the sole stay of his shaken credit, and whenever Nanagrew exacting he would put her off till June and to the probability ofLusignan's winning. 

"Bah! He may very likely lose, " she said merrily, "since he's going toclear them all out at the races. "

By way of reply he contented himself by smiling a thin, mysterioussmile. Then carelessly:

"By the by, I've taken the liberty of giving your name to my outsider, the filly. Nana, Nana--that sounds well. You're not vexed?"

"Vexed, why?" she said in a state of inward ecstasy. 

The conversation continued, and same mention was made of an executionshortly to take place. The young woman said she was burning to go to itwhen Satin appeared at the dressing-room door and called her in tonesof entreaty. She got up at once and left the gentlemen lolling lazilyabout, while they finished their cigars and discussed the grave questionas to how far a murderer subject to chronic alcoholism is responsiblefor his act. In the dressing room Zoe sat helpless on a chair, cryingher heart out, while Satin vainly endeavored to console her. 

"What's the matter?" said Nana in surprise. 

"Oh, darling, do speak to her!" said Satin. "I've been trying to makeher listen to reason for the last twenty minutes. She's crying becauseyou called her a goose. "

"Yes, madame, it's very hard--very hard, " stuttered Zoe, choked by afresh fit of sobbing. 

This sad sight melted the young woman's heart at once. She spoke kindly, and when the other woman still refused to grow calm she sank downin front of her and took her round the waist with truly cordialfamiliarity:

"But, you silly, I said 'goose' just as I might have said anything else. How shall I explain? I was in a passion--it was wrong of me; now calmdown. "

"I who love Madame so, " stuttered Zoe; "after all I've done for Madame. "

Thereupon Nana kissed the lady's maid and, wishing to show her shewasn't vexed, gave her a dress she had worn three times. Their quarrelsalways ended up in the giving of presents! Zoe plugged her handkerchiefinto her eyes. She carried the dress off over her arm and added beforeleaving that they were very sad in the kitchen and that Julien andFrancois had been unable to eat, so entirely had Madame's anger takenaway their appetites. Thereupon Madame sent them a louis as a pledgeof reconciliation. She suffered too much if people around her weresorrowful. 

Nana was returning to the drawing room, happy in the thought thatshe had patched up a disagreement which was rendering her quietlyapprehensive of the morrow, when Satin came and whispered vehemently inher ear. She was full of complaint, threatened to be off if those menstill went on teasing her and kept insisting that her darling shouldturn them all out of doors for that night, at any rate. It would be alesson to them. And then it would be so nice to be alone, both of them!Nana, with a return of anxiety, declared it to be impossible. Thereuponthe other shouted at her like a violent child and tried hard to overruleher. 

"I wish it, d'you see? Send 'em away or I'm off!"

And she went back into the drawing room, stretched herself out in therecesses of a divan, which stood in the background near the window, andlay waiting, silent and deathlike, with her great eyes fixed upon Nana. 

The gentlemen were deciding against the new criminological theories. Granted that lovely invention of irresponsibility in certainpathological cases, and criminals ceased to exist and sick people aloneremained. The young woman, expressing approval with an occasional nod, was busy considering how best to dismiss the count. The others wouldsoon be going, but he would assuredly prove obstinate. In fact, whenPhilippe got up to withdraw, Georges followed him at once--he seemedonly anxious not to leave his brother behind. Vandeuvres lingered someminutes longer, feeling his way, as it were, and waiting to find out if, by any chance, some important business would oblige Muffat to cede himhis place. Soon, however, when he saw the count deliberately takingup his quarters for the night, he desisted from his purpose and saidgood-by, as became a man of tact. But on his way to the door, he noticedSatin staring fixedly at Nana, as usual. Doubtless he understood whatthis meant, for he seemed amused and came and shook hands with her. 

"We're not angry, eh?" he whispered. "Pray pardon me. You're the nicerattraction of the two, on my honor!"

Satin deigned no reply. Nor did she take her eyes off Nana and thecount, who were now alone. Muffat, ceasing to be ceremonious, had cometo sit beside the young woman. He took her fingers and began kissingthem. Whereupon Nana, seeking to change the current of his thoughts, asked him if his daughter Estelle were better. The previous night he hadbeen complaining of the child's melancholy behavior--he could not evenspend a day happily at his own house, with his wife always out and hisdaughter icily silent. 

In family matters of this kind Nana was always full of good advice, andwhen Muffat abandoned all his usual self-control under the influenceof mental and physical relaxation and once more launched out into hisformer plaints, she remembered the promise she had made. 

"Suppose you were to marry her?" she said. And with that she ventured totalk of Daguenet. At the mere mention of the name the count was filledwith disgust. "Never, " he said after what she had told him!

She pretended great surprise and then burst out laughing and put her armround his neck. 

"Oh, the jealous man! To think of it! Just argue it out a little. Why, they slandered me to you--I was furious. At present I should be ever sosorry if--"

But over Muffat's shoulder she met Satin's gaze. And she left himanxiously and in a grave voice continued:

"This marriage must come off, my friend; I don't want to prevent yourdaughter's happiness. The young man's most charming; you could notpossibly find a better sort. "

And she launched into extraordinary praise of Daguenet. The count hadagain taken her hands; he no longer refused now; he would see about it, he said, they would talk the matter over. By and by, when he spoke ofgoing to bed, she sank her voice and excused herself. It was impossible;she was not well. If he loved her at all he would not insist!Nevertheless, he was obstinate; he refused to go away, and she wasbeginning to give in when she met Satin's eyes once more. Then she grewinflexible. No, the thing was out of the question! The count, deeplymoved and with a look of suffering, had risen and was going in quest ofhis hat. But in the doorway he remembered the set of sapphires; hecould feel the case in his pocket. He had been wanting to hide it at thebottom of the bed so that when she entered it before him she should feelit against her legs. Since dinnertime he had been meditating this littlesurprise like a schoolboy, and now, in trouble and anguish of heart atbeing thus dismissed, he gave her the case without further ceremony. 

"What is it?" she queried. "Sapphires? Dear me! Oh yes, it's that set. How sweet you are! But I say, my darling, d'you believe it's the sameone? In the shopwindow it made a much greater show. "

That was all the thanks he got, and she let him go away. He noticedSatin stretched out silent and expectant, and with that he gazed atboth women and without further insistence submitted to his fate andwent downstairs. The hall door had not yet closed when Satin caught Nanaround the waist and danced and sang. Then she ran to the window. 

"Oh, just look at the figure he cuts down in the street!" The two womenleaned upon the wrought-iron window rail in the shadow of the curtains. One o'clock struck. The Avenue de Villiers was deserted, and its doublefile of gas lamps stretched away into the darkness of the damp Marchnight through which great gusts of wind kept sweeping, laden with rain. There were vague stretches of land on either side of the road whichlooked like gulfs of shadow, while scaffoldings round mansions inprocess of construction loomed upward under the dark sky. They laugheduncontrollably as they watched Muffat's rounded back and glisteningshadow disappearing along the wet sidewalk into the glacial, desolateplains of new Paris. But Nana silenced Satin. 

"Take care; there are the police!"

Thereupon they smothered their laughter and gazed in secret fear at twodark figures walking with measured tread on the opposite side ofthe avenue. Amid all her luxurious surroundings, amid all the royalsplendors of the woman whom all must obey, Nana still stood in horrorof the police and did not like to hear them mentioned any oftener thandeath. She felt distinctly unwell when a policeman looked up at herhouse. One never knew what such people might do! They might easily takethem for loose women if they heard them laughing at that hour of thenight. Satin, with a little shudder, had squeezed herself up againstNana. Nevertheless, the pair stayed where they were and were sooninterested in the approach of a lantern, the light of which danced overthe puddles in the road. It was an old ragpicker woman who was busyraking in the gutters. Satin recognized her. 

"Dear me, " she exclaimed, "it's Queen Pomare with her wickerwork shawl!"

And while a gust of wind lashed the fine rain in their faces she toldher beloved the story of Queen Pomare. Oh, she had been a splendid girlonce upon a time: all Paris had talked of her beauty. And such devilishgo and such cheek! Why, she led the men about like dogs, and greatpeople stood blubbering on her stairs! Now she was in the habit ofgetting tipsy, and the women round about would make her drink absinthefor the sake of a laugh, after which the street boys would throw stonesat her and chase her. In fact, it was a regular smashup; the queen hadtumbled into the mud! Nana listened, feeling cold all over. 

"You shall see, " added Satin. 

She whistled a man's whistle, and the ragpicker, who was then below thewindow, lifted her head and showed herself by the yellow flare of herlantern. Framed among rags, a perfect bundle of them, a face looked outfrom under a tattered kerchief--a blue, seamed face with a toothless, cavernous mouth and fiery bruises where the eyes should be. And Nana, seeing the frightful old woman, the wanton drowned in drink, hada sudden fit of recollection and saw far back amid the shadows ofconsciousness the vision of Chamont--Irma d'Anglars, the old harlotcrowned with years and honors, ascending the steps in front of herchateau amid abjectly reverential villagers. Then as Satin whistledagain, making game of the old hag, who could not see her:

"Do leave off; there are the police!" she murmured in changed tones. "Inwith us, quick, my pet!"

The measured steps were returning, and they shut the window. Turninground again, shivering, and with the damp of night on her hair, Nana wasmomentarily astounded at sight of her drawing room. It seemed as thoughshe had forgotten it and were entering an unknown chamber. So warm, so full of perfume, was the air she encountered that she experienced asense of delighted surprise. The heaped-up wealth of the place, the OldWorld furniture, the fabrics of silk and gold, the ivory, the bronzes, were slumbering in the rosy light of the lamps, while from the whole ofthe silent house a rich feeling of great luxury ascended, the luxury ofthe solemn reception rooms, of the comfortable, ample dining room, of the vast retired staircase, with their soft carpets and seats. Herindividuality, with its longing for domination and enjoyment and itsdesire to possess everything that she might destroy everything, was suddenly increased. Never before had she felt so profoundly thepuissance of her sex. She gazed slowly round and remarked with anexpression of grave philosophy:

"Ah well, all the same, one's jolly well right to profit by things whenone's young!"

But now Satin was rolling on the bearskins in the bedroom and callingher. 

"Oh, do come! Do come!"

Nana undressed in the dressing room, and in order to be quicker about itshe took her thick fell of blonde hair in both hands and began shakingit above the silver wash hand basin, while a downward hail of longhairpins rang a little chime on the shining metal. 

CHAPTER XI

One Sunday the race for the Grand Prix de Paris was being run in theBois de Boulogne beneath skies rendered sultry by the first heats ofJune. The sun that morning had risen amid a mist of dun-colored dust, but toward eleven o'clock, just when the carriages were reaching theLongchamps course, a southerly wind had swept away the clouds; longstreamers of gray vapor were disappearing across the sky, and gapsshowing an intense blue beyond were spreading from one end of thehorizon to the other. In the bright bursts of sunlight which alternatedwith the clouds the whole scene shone again, from the field which wasgradually filling with a crowd of carriages, horsemen and pedestrians, to the still-vacant course, where the judge's box stood, together withthe posts and the masts for signaling numbers, and thence on to the fivesymmetrical stands of brickwork and timber, rising gallery upon galleryin the middle of the weighing enclosure opposite. Beyond these, bathedin the light of noon, lay the vast level plain, bordered with littletrees and shut in to the westward by the wooded heights of Saint-Cloudand the Suresnes, which, in their turn, were dominated by the severeoutlines of Mont-Valerien. 

Nana, as excited as if the Grand Prix were going to make her fortune, wanted to take up a position by the railing next the winning post. Shehad arrived very early--she was, in fact, one of the first to come--ina landau adorned with silver and drawn, a la Daumont, by four splendidwhite horses. This landau was a present from Count Muffat. When she hadmade her appearance at the entrance to the field with two postilionsjogging blithely on the near horses and two footmen perching motionlessbehind the carriage, the people had rushed to look as though a queenwere passing. She sported the blue and white colors of the Vandeuvresstable, and her dress was remarkable. It consisted of a little bluesilk bodice and tunic, which fitted closely to the body and bulged outenormously behind her waist, thereby bringing her lower limbs into boldrelief in such a manner as to be extremely noticeable in that epoch ofvoluminous skirts. Then there was a white satin dress with whitesatin sleeves and a sash worn crosswise over the shoulders, the wholeornamented with silver guipure which shone in the sun. In addition tothis, in order to be still more like a jockey, she had stuck a bluetoque with a white feather jauntily upon her chignon, the fair tressesfrom which flowed down beyond her shoulders and resembled an enormousrusset pigtail. 

Twelve struck. The public would have to wait more than three hoursfor the Grand Prix to be run. When the landau had drawn up beside thebarriers Nana settled herself comfortably down as though she were in herown house. A whim had prompted her to bring Bijou and Louiset with her, and the dog crouched among her skirts, shivering with cold despitethe heat of the day, while amid a bedizenment of ribbons and laces thechild's poor little face looked waxen and dumb and white in the openair. Meanwhile the young woman, without troubling about the people nearher, talked at the top of her voice with Georges and Philippe Hugon, whowere seated opposite on the front seat among such a mountain of bouquetsof white roses and blue myosotis that they were buried up to theirshoulders. 

"Well then, " she was saying, "as he bored me to death, I showed him thedoor. And now it's two days that he's been sulking. "

She was talking of Muffat, but she took care not to confess to the youngmen the real reason for this first quarrel, which was that one eveninghe had found a man's hat in her bedroom. She had indeed brought home apasser-by out of sheer ennui--a silly infatuation. 

"You have no idea how funny he is, " she continued, growing merry overthe particulars she was giving. "He's a regular bigot at bottom, so hesays his prayers every evening. Yes, he does. He's under the impressionI notice nothing because I go to bed first so as not to be in his way, but I watch him out of the corner of my eye. Oh, he jaws away, and thenhe crosses himself when he turns round to step over me and get to theinside of the bed. "

"Jove, it's sly, " muttered Philippe. "That's what happens before, butafterward, what then?"

She laughed merrily. 

"Yes, just so, before and after! When I'm going to sleep I hear himjawing away again. But the biggest bore of all is that we can't argueabout anything now without his growing 'pi. ' I've always been religious. Yes, chaff as much as you like; that won't prevent me believing whatI do believe! Only he's too much of a nuisance: he blubbers; he talksabout remorse. The day before yesterday, for instance, he had a regularfit of it after our usual row, and I wasn't the least bit reassured whenall was over. "

But she broke off, crying out:

"Just look at the Mignons arriving. Dear me, they've brought thechildren! Oh, how those little chaps are dressed up!"

The Mignons were in a landau of severe hue; there was somethingsubstantially luxurious about their turnout, suggesting rich retiredtradespeople. Rose was in a gray silk gown trimmed with red knots andwith puffs; she was smiling happily at the joyous behavior of Henri andCharles, who sat on the front seat, looking awkward in their ill-fittingcollegians' tunics. But when the landau had drawn up by the rails andshe perceived Nana sitting in triumph among her bouquets, with her fourhorses and her liveries, she pursed up her lips, sat bolt upright andturned her head away. Mignon, on the other hand, looking the pictureof freshness and gaiety, waved her a salutation. He made it a matter ofprinciple to keep out of feminine disagreements. 

"By the by, " Nana resumed, "d'you know a little old man who's very cleanand neat and has bad teeth--a Monsieur Venot? He came to see me thismorning. "

"Monsieur Venot?" said Georges in great astonishment. "It's impossible!Why, the man's a Jesuit!"

"Precisely; I spotted that. Oh, you have no idea what our conversationwas like! It was just funny! He spoke to me about the count, about hisdivided house, and begged me to restore a family its happiness. He wasvery polite and very smiling for the matter of that. Then I answered tothe effect that I wanted nothing better, and I undertook to reconcilethe count and his wife. You know it's not humbug. I should be delightedto see them all happy again, the poor things! Besides, it would be arelief to me for there are days--yes, there are days--when he bores meto death. "

The weariness of the last months escaped her in this heartfelt outburst. Moreover, the count appeared to be in big money difficulties; he wasanxious and it seemed likely that the bill which Labordette had put hisname to would not be met. 

"Dear me, the countess is down yonder, " said Georges, letting his gazewander over the stands. 

"Where, where?" cried Nana. "What eyes that baby's got! Hold mysunshade, Philippe. "

But with a quick forward dart Georges had outstripped his brother. It enchanted him to be holding the blue silk sunshade with its silverfringe. Nana was scanning the scene through a huge pair of fieldglasses. 

"Ah yes! I see her, " she said at length. "In the right-hand stand, neara pillar, eh? She's in mauve, and her daughter in white by her side. Dear me, there's Daguenet going to bow to them. "

Thereupon Philippe talked of Daguenet's approaching marriage withthat lath of an Estelle. It was a settled matter--the banns were beingpublished. At first the countess had opposed it, but the count, theysaid, had insisted. Nana smiled. 

"I know, I know, " she murmured. "So much the better for Paul. He's anice boy--he deserves it. "

And leaning toward Louiset:

"You're enjoying yourself, eh? What a grave face!"

The child never smiled. With a very old expression he was gazing at allthose crowds, as though the sight of them filled him with melancholyreflections. Bijou, chased from the skirts of the young woman who wasmoving about a great deal, had come to nestle, shivering, against thelittle fellow. 

Meanwhile the field was filling up. Carriages, a compact, interminablefile of them, were continually arriving through the Porte de la Cascade. There were big omnibuses such as the Pauline, which had started from theBoulevard des Italiens, freighted with its fifty passengers, and was nowgoing to draw up to the right of the stands. Then there were dogcarts, victorias, landaus, all superbly well turned out, mingled withlamentable cabs which jolted along behind sorry old hacks, andfour-in-hands, sending along their four horses, and mail coaches, wherethe masters sat on the seats above and left the servants to take careof the hampers of champagne inside, and "spiders, " the immense wheels ofwhich were a flash of glittering steel, and light tandems, which lookedas delicately formed as the works of a clock and slipped along amid apeal of little bells. Every few seconds an equestrian rode by, and aswarm of people on foot rushed in a scared way among the carriages. Onthe green the far-off rolling sound which issued from the avenues in theBois died out suddenly in dull rustlings, and now nothing was audiblesave the hubbub of the ever-increasing crowds and cries and calls andthe crackings of whips in the open. When the sun, amid bursts of wind, reappeared at the edge of a cloud, a long ray of golden light ran acrossthe field, lit up the harness and the varnished coach panels andtouched the ladies' dresses with fire, while amid the dusty radiance thecoachmen, high up on their boxes, flamed beside their great whips. 

Labordette was getting out of an open carriage where Gaga, Clarisse andBlanche de Sivry had kept a place for him. As he was hurrying to crossthe course and enter the weighing enclosure Nana got Georges to callhim. Then when he came up:

"What's the betting on me?" she asked laughingly. 

She referred to the filly Nana, the Nana who had let herself beshamefully beaten in the race for the Prix de Diane and had not evenbeen placed in April and May last when she ran for the Prix des Carsand the Grande Poule des Produits, both of which had been gained byLusignan, the other horse in the Vandeuvres stable. Lusignan had all atonce become prime favorite, and since yesterday he had been currentlytaken at two to one. 

"Always fifty to one against, " replied Labordette. 

"The deuce! I'm not worth much, " rejoined Nana, amused by the jest. "I don't back myself then; no, by jingo! I don't put a single louis onmyself. "

Labordette went off again in a great hurry, but she recalled him. Shewanted some advice. Since he kept in touch with the world of trainersand jockeys he had special information about various stables. Hisprognostications had come true a score of times already, and peoplecalled him the "King of Tipsters. "

"Let's see, what horses ought I to choose?" said the young woman. "What's the betting on the Englishman?"

"Spirit? Three to one against. Valerio II, the same. As to the others, they're laying twenty-five to one against Cosinus, forty to oneagainst Hazard, thirty to one against Bourn, thirty-five to one againstPichenette, ten to one against Frangipane. "

"No, I don't bet on the Englishman, I don't. I'm a patriot. PerhapsValerio II would do, eh? The Duc de Corbreuse was beaming a little whileago. Well, no, after all! Fifty louis on Lusignan; what do you say tothat?"

Labordette looked at her with a singular expression. She leanedforward and asked him questions in a low voice, for she was aware thatVandeuvres commissioned him to arrange matters with the bookmakers soas to be able to bet the more easily. Supposing him to have got to knowsomething, he might quite well tell it her. But without entering intoexplanations Labordette persuaded her to trust to his sagacity. He wouldput on her fifty louis for her as he might think best, and she would notrepent of his arrangement. 

"All the horses you like!" she cried gaily, letting him take hisdeparture, "but no Nana; she's a jade!"

There was a burst of uproarious laughter in the carriage. The young menthought her sally very amusing, while Louiset in his ignorance liftedhis pale eyes to his mother's face, for her loud exclamations surprisedhim. However, there was no escape for Labordette as yet. Rose Mignon hadmade a sign to him and was now giving him her commands while he wrotefigures in a notebook. Then Clarisse and Gaga called him back in orderto change their bets, for they had heard things said in the crowd, andnow they didn't want to have anything more to do with Valerio II andwere choosing Lusignan. He wrote down their wishes with an impassibleexpression and at length managed to escape. He could be seendisappearing between two of the stands on the other side of the course. 

Carriages were still arriving. They were by this time drawn up five rowsdeep, and a dense mass of them spread along the barriers, checkered bythe light coats of white horses. Beyond them other carriages stood aboutin comparative isolation, looking as though they had stuck fast in thegrass. Wheels and harness were here, there and everywhere, according asthe conveyances to which they belonged were side by side, at an angle, across and across or head to head. Over such spaces of turf as stillremained unoccupied cavaliers kept trotting, and black groups ofpedestrians moved continually. The scene resembled the field where afair is being held, and above it all, amid the confused motley of thecrowd, the drinking booths raised their gray canvas roofs which gleamedwhite in the sunshine. But a veritable tumult, a mob, an eddy ofhats, surged round the several bookmakers, who stood in open carriagesgesticulating like itinerant dentists while their odds were pasted up ontall boards beside them. 

"All the same, it's stupid not to know on what horse one's betting, "Nana was remarking. "I really must risk some louis in person. "

She had stood up to select a bookmaker with a decent expression offace but forgot what she wanted on perceiving a perfect crowd of heracquaintance. Besides the Mignons, besides Gaga, Clarisse and Blanche, there were present, to the right and left, behind and in the middle ofthe mass of carriages now hemming in her landau, the following ladies:Tatan Nene and Maria Blond in a victoria, Caroline Hequet with hermother and two gentlemen in an open carriage, Louise Violaine quitealone, driving a little basket chaise decked with orange and greenribbons, the colors of the Mechain stables, and finally, Lea de Horn onthe lofty seat of a mail coach, where a band of young men were making agreat din. Farther off, in a HUIT RESSORTS of aristocratic appearance, Lucy Stewart, in a very simple black silk dress, sat, lookingdistinguished beside a tall young man in the uniform of a naval cadet. But what most astounded Nana was the arrival of Simonne in a tandemwhich Steiner was driving, while a footman sat motionless, with foldedarms, behind them. She looked dazzling in white satin striped withyellow and was covered with diamonds from waist to hat. The banker, on his part, was handling a tremendous whip and sending along his twohorses, which were harnessed tandemwise, the leader being a littlewarm-colored chestnut with a mouselike trot, the shaft horse a big brownbay, a stepper, with a fine action. 

"Deuce take it!" said Nana. "So that thief Steiner has cleared theBourse again, has he? I say, isn't Simonne a swell! It's too much of agood thing; he'll get into the clutches of the law!"

Nevertheless, she exchanged greetings at a distance. Indeed, she keptwaving her hand and smiling, turning round and forgetting no one in herdesire to be seen by everybody. At the same time she continued chatting. 

"It's her son Lucy's got in tow! He's charming in his uniform. That'swhy she's looking so grand, of course! You know she's afraid of him andthat she passes herself off as an actress. Poor young man, I pity himall the same! He seems quite unsuspicious. "

"Bah, " muttered Philippe, laughing, "she'll be able to find him anheiress in the country when she likes. "

Nana was silent, for she had just noticed the Tricon amid the thickof the carriages. Having arrived in a cab, whence she could not seeanything, the Tricon had quietly mounted the coach box. And there, straightening up her tall figure, with her noble face enshrined inits long curls, she dominated the crowd as though enthroned amid herfeminine subjects. All the latter smiled discreetly at her while she, in her superiority, pretended not to know them. She wasn't there forbusiness purposes: she was watching the races for the love of the thing, as became a frantic gambler with a passion for horseflesh. 

"Dear me, there's that idiot La Faloise!" said Georges suddenly. 

It was a surprise to them all. Nana did not recognize her La Faloise, for since he had come into his inheritance he had grown extraordinarilyup to date. He wore a low collar and was clad in a cloth of delicatehue which fitted close to his meager shoulders. His hair was in littlebandeaux, and he affected a weary kind of swagger, a soft tone of voiceand slang words and phrases which he did not take the trouble to finish. 

"But he's quite the thing!" declared Nana in perfect enchantment. 

Gaga and Clarisse had called La Faloise and were throwing themselvesat him in their efforts to regain his allegiance, but he left themimmediately, rolling off in a chaffing, disdainful manner. Nana dazzledhim. He rushed up to her and stood on the carriage step, and when shetwitted him about Gaga he murmured:

"Oh dear, no! We've seen the last of the old lot! Mustn't play her offon me any more. And then, you know, it's you now, Juliet mine!"

He had put his hand to his heart. Nana laughed a good deal at thisexceedingly sudden out-of-door declaration. She continued:

"I say, that's not what I'm after. You're making me forget that I wantto lay wagers. Georges, you see that bookmaker down there, a greatred-faced man with curly hair? He's got a dirty blackguard expressionwhich I like. You're to go and choose--Oh, I say, what can one choose?"

"I'm not a patriotic soul--oh dear, no!" La Faloise blurted out. "I'mall for the Englishman. It will be ripping if the Englishman gains! TheFrench may go to Jericho!"

Nana was scandalized. Presently the merits of the several horses beganto be discussed, and La Faloise, wishing to be thought very much inthe swim, spoke of them all as sorry jades. Frangipane, Baron Verdier'shorse, was by The Truth out of Lenore. A big bay horse he was, whowould certainly have stood a chance if they hadn't let him get founderedduring training. As to Valerio II from the Corbreuse stable, he wasn'tready yet; he'd had the colic in April. Oh yes, they were keeping thatdark, but he was sure of it, on his honor! In the end he advised Nana tochoose Hazard, the most defective of the lot, a horse nobody would haveanything to do with. Hazard, by jingo--such superb lines and such anaction! That horse was going to astonish the people. 

"No, " said Nana, "I'm going to put ten louis on Lusignan and five onBoum. "

La Faloise burst forth at once:

"But, my dear girl, Boum's all rot! Don't choose him! Gasc himself ischucking up backing his own horse. And your Lusignan--never! Why, it'sall humbug! By Lamb and Princess--just think! By Lamb and Princess--no, by Jove! All too short in the legs!"

He was choking. Philippe pointed out that, notwithstanding this, Lusignan had won the Prix des Cars and the Grande Poule des Produits. But the other ran on again. What did that prove? Nothing at all. On thecontrary, one ought to distrust him. And besides, Gresham rode Lusignan;well then, let them jolly well dry up! Gresham had bad luck; he wouldnever get to the post. 

And from one end of the field to the other the discussion raging inNana's landau seemed to spread and increase. Voices were raised in ascream; the passion for gambling filled the air, set faces glowingand arms waving excitedly, while the bookmakers, perched on theirconveyances, shouted odds and jotted down amounts right furiously. Yetthese were only the small fry of the betting world; the big bets weremade in the weighing enclosure. Here, then, raged the keen contestof people with light purses who risked their five-franc pieces anddisplayed infinite covetousness for the sake of a possible gain of afew louis. In a word, the battle would be between Spirit and Lusignan. Englishmen, plainly recognizable as such, were strolling about amongthe various groups. They were quite at home; their faces were fiery withexcitement; they were afready triumphant. Bramah, a horse belonging toLord Reading, had gained the Grand Prix the previous year, and this hadbeen a defeat over which hearts were still bleeding. This year it wouldbe terrible if France were beaten anew. Accordingly all the ladies werewild with national pride. The Vandeuvres stable became the rampartof their honor, and Lusignan was pushed and defended and applaudedexceedingly. Gaga, Blanche, Caroline and the rest betted on Lusignan. Lucy Stewart abstained from this on account of her son, but it wasbruited abroad that Rose Mignon had commissioned Labordette to risk twohundred louis for her. The Tricon, as she sat alone next her driver, waited till the last moment. Very cool, indeed, amid all these disputes, very far above the ever-increasing uproar in which horses' names keptrecurring and lively Parisian phrases mingled with guttural Englishexclamations, she sat listening and taking notes majestically. 

"And Nana?" said Georges. "Does no one want her?"

Indeed, nobody was asking for the filly; she was not even beingmentioned. The outsider of the Vandeuvres's stud was swamped byLusignan's popularity. But La Faloise flung his arms up, crying:

"I've an inspiration. I'll bet a louis on Nana. "

"Bravo! I bet a couple, " said Georges. 

"And I three, " added Philippe. 

And they mounted up and up, bidding against one another good-humoredlyand naming prices as though they had been haggling over Nana atan auction. La Faloise said he would cover her with gold. Besides, everybody was to be made to back her; they would go and pick up backers. But as the three young men were darting off to propagandize, Nanashouted after them:

"You know I don't want to have anything to do with her; I don't for theworld! Georges, ten louis on Lusignan and five on Valerio II. "

Meanwhile they had started fairly off, and she watched them gaily asthey slipped between wheels, ducked under horses' heads and scoured thewhole field. The moment they recognized anyone in a carriage they rushedup and urged Nana's claims. And there were great bursts of laughteramong the crowd when sometimes they turned back, triumphantly signalingamounts with their fingers, while the young woman stood and waved hersunshade. Nevertheless, they made poor enough work of it. Some men letthemselves be persuaded; Steiner, for instance, ventured three louis, for the sight of Nana stirred him. But the women refused point-blank. "Thanks, " they said; "to lose for a certainty!" Besides, they were in nohurry to work for the benefit of a dirty wench who was overwhelmingthem all with her four white horses, her postilions and her outrageousassumption of side. Gaga and Clarisse looked exceedingly prim and askedLa Faloise whether he was jolly well making fun of them. When Georgesboldly presented himself before the Mignons' carriage Rose turned herhead away in the most marked manner and did not answer him. One must bea pretty foul sort to let one's name be given to a horse! Mignon, on thecontrary, followed the young man's movements with a look of amusementand declared that the women always brought luck. 

"Well?" queried Nana when the young men returned after a prolonged visitto the bookmakers. 

"The odds are forty to one against you, " said La Faloise. 

"What's that? Forty to one!" she cried, astounded. "They were fifty toone against me. What's happened?"

Labordette had just then reappeared. The course was being cleared, and the pealing of a bell announced the first race. Amid the expectantmurmur of the bystanders she questioned him about this sudden rise inher value. But he replied evasively; doubtless a demand for her hadarisen. She had to content herself with this explanation. Moreover, Labordette announced with a preoccupied expression that Vandeuvres wascoming if he could get away. 

The race was ending unnoticed; people were all waiting for the GrandPrix to be run--when a storm burst over the Hippodrome. For some minutespast the sun had disappeared, and a wan twilight had darkened over themultitude. Then the wind rose, and there ensued a sudden deluge. Hugedrops, perfect sheets of water, fell. There was a momentary confusion, and people shouted and joked and swore, while those on foot scamperedmadly off to find refuge under the canvas of the drinking booths. In thecarriages the women did their best to shelter themselves, graspingtheir sunshades with both hands, while the bewildered footmen ran to thehoods. But the shower was already nearly over, and the sun began shiningbrilliantly through escaping clouds of fine rain. A blue cleft opened inthe stormy mass, which was blown off over the Bois, and the skies seemedto smile again and to set the women laughing in a reassured manner, while amid the snorting of horses and the disarray and agitation of thedrenched multitude that was shaking itself dry a broad flush of goldenlight lit up the field, still dripping and glittering with crystaldrops. 

"Oh, that poor, dear Louiset!" said Nana. "Are you very drenched, mydarling?"

The little thing silently allowed his hands to be wiped. The young womanhad taken out her handkerchief. Then she dabbed it over Bijou, who wastrembling more violently than ever. It would not matter in the least;there were a few drops on the white satin of her dress, but she didn'tcare a pin for them. The bouquets, refreshed by the rain, glowed likesnow, and she smelled one ecstatically, drenching her lips in it asthough it were wet with dew. 

Meanwhile the burst of rain had suddenly filled the stands. Nana lookedat them through her field glasses. At that distance you could onlydistinguish a compact, confused mass of people, heaped up, as it were, on the ascending ranges of steps, a dark background relieved by lightdots which were human faces. The sunlight filtered in through openingsnear the roof at each end of the stand and detached and illuminedportions of the seated multitude, where the ladies' dresses seemed tolose their distinguishing colors. But Nana was especially amused by theladies whom the shower had driven from the rows of chairs ranged on thesand at the base of the stands. As courtesans were absolutely forbiddento enter the enclosure, she began making exceedingly bitter remarksabout all the fashionable women therein assembled. She thought themfearfully dressed up, and such guys!

There was a rumor that the empress was entering the little centralstand, a pavilion built like a chalet, with a wide balcony furnishedwith red armchairs. 

"Why, there he is!" said Georges. "I didn't think he was on duty thisweek. "

The stiff and solemn form of the Count Muffat had appeared behind theempress. Thereupon the young men jested and were sorry that Satin wasn'tthere to go and dig him in the ribs. But Nana's field glass focused thehead of the Prince of Scots in the imperial stand. 

"Gracious, it's Charles!" she cried. 

She thought him stouter than formerly. In eighteen months he hadbroadened, and with that she entered into particulars. Oh yes, he was abig, solidly built fellow!

All round her in the ladies' carriages they were whispering that thecount had given her up. It was quite a long story. Since he had beenmaking himself noticeable, the Tuileries had grown scandalized at thechamberlain's conduct. Whereupon, in order to retain his position, hehad recently broken it off with Nana. La Faloise bluntly reported thisaccount of matters to the young woman and, addressing her as his Juliet, again offered himself. But she laughed merrily and remarked:

"It's idiotic! You won't know him; I've only to say, 'Come here, ' forhim to chuck up everything. "

For some seconds past she had been examining the Countess Sabine andEstelle. Daguenet was still at their side. Fauchery had just arrivedand was disturbing the people round him in his desire to make his bowto them. He, too, stayed smilingly beside them. After that Nana pointedwith disdainful action at the stands and continued:

"Then, you know, those people don't fetch me any longer now! I know 'emtoo well. You should see 'em behind scenes. No more honor! It's allup with honor! Filth belowstairs, filth abovestairs, filth everywhere. That's why I won't be bothered about 'em!"

And with a comprehensive gesture she took in everybody, from the groomsleading the horses on to the course to the sovereign lady busy chattingwith with Charles, a prince and a dirty fellow to boot. 

"Bravo, Nana! Awfully smart, Nana!" cried La Faloise enthusiastically. 

The tolling of a bell was lost in the wind; the races continued. ThePrix d'Ispahan had just been run for and Berlingot, a horse belonging tothe Mechain stable, had won. Nana recalled Labordette in order to obtainnews of the hundred louis, but he burst out laughing and refused tolet her know the horses he had chosen for her, so as not to disturb theluck, as he phrased it. Her money was well placed; she would see thatall in good time. And when she confessed her bets to him and toldhim how she had put ten louis on Lusignan and five on Valerio II, heshrugged his shoulders, as who should say that women did stupid thingswhatever happened. His action surprised her; she was quite at sea. 

Just then the field grew more animated than before. Open-air luncheswere arranged in the interval before the Grand Prix. There was mucheating and more drinking in all directions, on the grass, on the highseats of the four-in-hands and mail coaches, in the victorias, thebroughams, the landaus. There was a universal spread of cold viandsand a fine disorderly display of champagne baskets which footmen kepthanding down out of the coach boots. Corks came out with feeble pops, which the wind drowned. There was an interchange of jests, and the soundof breaking glasses imparted a note of discord to the high-strung gaietyof the scene. Gaga and Clarisse, together with Blanche, were making aserious repast, for they were eating sandwiches on the carriage rug withwhich they had been covering their knees. Louise Violaine had got downfrom her basket carriage and had joined Caroline Hequet. On the turf attheir feet some gentlemen had instituted a drinking bar, whither Tatan, Maria, Simonne and the rest came to refresh themselves, while high inair and close at hand bottles were being emptied on Lea de Horn's mailcoach, and, with infinite bravado and gesticulation, a whole band weremaking themselves tipsy in the sunshine, above the heads of the crowd. Soon, however, there was an especially large crowd by Nana's landau. She had risen to her feet and had set herself to pour out glasses ofchampagne for the men who came to pay her their respects. Francois, oneof the footmen, was passing up the bottles while La Faloise, trying hardto imitate a coster's accents, kept pattering away:

"'Ere y're, given away, given away! There's some for everybody!"

"Do be still, dear boy, " Nana ended by saying. "We look like a set oftumblers. "

She thought him very droll and was greatly entertained. At one momentshe conceived the idea of sending Georges with a glass of champagne toRose Mignon, who was affecting temperance. Henri and Charles were boredto distraction; they would have been glad of some champagne, thepoor little fellows. But Georges drank the glassful, for he feared anargument. Then Nana remembered Louiset, who was sitting forgotten behindher. Maybe he was thirsty, and she forced him to take a drop or two ofwine, which made him cough dreadfully. 

"'Ere y'are, 'ere y'are, gemmen!" La Faloise reiterated. "It don't costtwo sous; it don't cost one. We give it away. "

But Nana broke in with an exclamation:

"Gracious, there's Bordenave down there! Call him. Oh, run, please, please do!"

It was indeed Bordenave. He was strolling about with his hands behindhis back, wearing a hat that looked rusty in the sunlight and a greasyfrock coat that was glossy at the seams. It was Bordenave shattered bybankruptcy, yet furious despite all reverses, a Bordenave who flauntedhis misery among all the fine folks with the hardihood becoming a manever ready to take Dame Fortune by storm. 

"The deuce, how smart we are!" he said when Nana extended her hand tohim like the good-natured wench she was. 

Presently, after emptying a glass of champagne, he gave vent to thefollowing profoundly regretful phrase:

"Ah, if only I were a woman! But, by God, that's nothing! Would you liketo go on the stage again? I've a notion: I'll hire the Gaite, and we'llgobble up Paris between us. You certainly owe it me, eh?"

And he lingered, grumbling, beside her, though glad to see her again;for, he said, that confounded Nana was balm to his feelings. Yes, it wasbalm to them merely to exist in her presence! She was his daughter; shewas blood of his blood!

The circle increased, for now La Faloise was filling glasses, andGeorges and Philippe were picking up friends. A stealthy impulse wasgradually bringing in the whole field. Nana would fling everyone alaughing smile or an amusing phrase. The groups of tipplers were drawingnear, and all the champagne scattered over the place was moving in herdirection. Soon there was only one noisy crowd, and that was round herlandau, where she queened it among outstretched glasses, her yellow hairfloating on the breeze and her snowy face bathed in the sunshine. Thenby way of a finishing touch and to make the other women, who were mad ather triumph, simply perish of envy, she lifted a brimming glass on highand assumed her old pose as Venus Victrix. 

But somebody touched her shoulder, and she was surprised, on turninground, to see Mignon on the seat. She vanished from view an instant andsat herself down beside him, for he had come to communicate a matter ofimportance. Mignon had everywhere declared that it was ridiculous of hiswife to bear Nana a grudge; he thought her attitude stupid and useless. 

"Look here, my dear, " he whispered. "Be careful: don't madden Rose toomuch. You understand, I think it best to warn you. Yes, she's got aweapon in store, and as she's never forgiven you the Petite Duchessebusiness--"

"A weapon, " said Nana; "what's that blooming well got to do with me?"

"Just listen: it's a letter she must have found in Fauchery's pocket, a letter written to that screw Fauchery by the Countess Muffat. And, byJove, it's clear the whole story's in it. Well then, Rose wants to sendthe letter to the count so as to be revenged on him and on you. "

"What the deuce has that got to do with me?" Nana repeated. "It's afunny business. So the whole story about Fauchery's in it! Very well, so much the better; the woman has been exasperating me! We shall have agood laugh!"

"No, I don't wish it, " Mignon briskly rejoined. "There'll be a prettyscandal! Besides, we've got nothing to gain. "

He paused, fearing lest he should say too much, while she loudlyaverred that she was most certainly not going to get a chaste woman intotrouble. 

But when he still insisted on his refusal she looked steadily at him. Doubtless he was afraid of seeing Fauchery again introduced into hisfamily in case he broke with the countess. While avenging her ownwrongs, Rose was anxious for that to happen, since she still felt akindness toward the journalist. And Nana waxed meditative and thoughtof M. Venot's call, and a plan began to take shape in her brain, whileMignon was doing his best to talk her over. 

"Let's suppose that Rose sends the letter, eh? There's food for scandal:you're mixed up in the business, and people say you're the cause of itall. Then to begin with, the count separates from his wife. "

"Why should he?" she said. "On the contrary--"

She broke off, in her turn. There was no need for her to think aloud. Soin order to be rid of Mignon she looked as though she entered into hisview of the case, and when he advised her to give Rose some proof of hersubmission--to pay her a short visit on the racecourse, for instance, where everybody would see her--she replied that she would see about it, that she would think the matter over. 

A commotion caused her to stand up again. On the course the horses werecoming in amid a sudden blast of wind. The prize given by the city ofParis had just been run for, and Cornemuse had gained it. Now the GrandPrix was about to be run, and the fever of the crowd increased, and theywere tortured by anxiety and stamped and swayed as though they wanted tomake the minutes fly faster. At this ultimate moment the betting worldwas surprised and startled by the continued shortening of the oddsagainst Nana, the outsider of the Vandeuvres stables. Gentlemen keptreturning every few moments with a new quotation: the betting was thirtyto one against Nana; it was twenty-five to one against Nana, then twentyto one, then fifteen to one. No one could understand it. A filly beatenon all the racecourses! A filly which that same morning no singlesportsman would take at fifty to one against! What did this suddenmadness betoken? Some laughed at it and spoke of the pretty doingawaiting the duffers who were being taken in by the joke. Others lookedserious and uneasy and sniffed out something ugly under it all. Perhapsthere was a "deal" in the offing. Allusion was made to well-knownstories about the robberies which are winked at on racecourses, buton this occasion the great name of Vandeuvres put a stop to all suchaccusations, and the skeptics in the end prevailed when they prophesiedthat Nana would come in last of all. 

"Who's riding Nana?" queried La Faloise. 

Just then the real Nana reappeared, whereat the gentlemen lent hisquestion an indecent meaning and burst into an uproarious fit oflaughter. Nana bowed. 

"Price is up, " she replied. 

And with that the discussion began again. Price was an Englishcelebrity. Why had Vandeuvres got this jockey to come over, seeing thatGresham ordinarily rode Nana? Besides, they were astonished to see himconfiding Lusignan to this man Gresham, who, according to La Faloise, never got a place. But all these remarks were swallowed up in jokes, contradictions and an extraordinarily noisy confusion of opinions. Inorder to kill time the company once more set themselves to drain bottlesof champagne. Presently a whisper ran round, and the different groupsopened outward. It was Vandeuvres. Nana affected vexation. 

"Dear me, you're a nice fellow to come at this time of day! Why, I'mburning to see the enclosure. "

"Well, come along then, " he said; "there's still time. You'll take astroll round with me. I just happen to have a permit for a lady aboutme. "

And he led her off on his arm while she enjoyed the jealous glances withwhich Lucy, Caroline and the others followed her. The young Hugonsand La Faloise remained in the landau behind her retreating figure andcontinued to do the honors of her champagne. She shouted to them thatshe would return immediately. 

But Vandeuvres caught sight of Labordette and called him, and there wasan interchange of brief sentences. 

"You've scraped everything up?"

"Yes. "

"To what amount?"

"Fifteen hundred louis--pretty well all over the place. "

As Nana was visibly listening, and that with much curiosity, they heldtheir tongues. Vandeuvres was very nervous, and he had those same cleareyes, shot with little flames, which so frightened her the night hespoke of burning himself and his horses together. As they crossed overthe course she spoke low and familiarly. 

"I say, do explain this to me. Why are the odds on your filly changing?"

He trembled, and this sentence escaped him:

"Ah, they're talking, are they? What a set those betting men are! WhenI've got the favorite they all throw themselves upon him, and there'sno chance for me. After that, when an outsider's asked for, they givetongue and yell as though they were being skinned. "

"You ought to tell me what's going to happen--I've made my bets, " sherejoined. "Has Nana a chance?"

A sudden, unreasonable burst of anger overpowered him. 

"Won't you deuced well let me be, eh? Every horse has a chance. The oddsare shortening because, by Jove, people have taken the horse. Who, Idon't know. I should prefer leaving you if you must needs badger me withyour idiotic questions. "

Such a tone was not germane either to his temperament or his habits, and Nana was rather surprised than wounded. Besides, he was ashamed ofhimself directly afterward, and when she begged him in a dry voice tobehave politely he apologized. For some time past he had suffered fromsuch sudden changes of temper. No one in the Paris of pleasure or ofsociety was ignorant of the fact that he was playing his last trumpcard today. If his horses did not win, if, moreover, they lost him theconsiderable sums wagered upon them, it would mean utter disaster andcollapse for him, and the bulwark of his credit and the lofty appearancewhich, though undermined, he still kept up, would come ruining noisilydown. Moreover, no one was ignorant of the fact that Nana was thedevouring siren who had finished him off, who had been the last toattack his crumbling fortunes and to sweep up what remained of them. Stories were told of wild whims and fancies, of gold scattered to thefour winds, of a visit to Baden-Baden, where she had not left him enoughto pay the hotel bill, of a handful of diamonds cast on the fire duringan evening of drunkenness in order to see whether they would burn likecoal. Little by little her great limbs and her coarse, plebeian way oflaughing had gained complete mastery over this elegant, degenerate sonof an ancient race. At that time he was risking his all, for he had beenso utterly overpowered by his taste for ordure and stupidity as to haveeven lost the vigor of his skepticism. A week before Nana had made himpromise her a chateau on the Norman coast between Havre and Trouville, and now he was staking the very foundations of his honor on thefulfillment of his word. Only she was getting on his nerves, and hecould have beaten her, so stupid did he feel her to be. 

The man at the gate, not daring to stop the woman hanging on the count'sarm, had allowed them to enter the enclosure. Nana, greatly puffed up atthe thought that at last she was setting foot on the forbidden ground, put on her best behavior and walked slowly by the ladies seated atthe foot of the stands. On ten rows of chairs the toilets weredensely massed, and in the blithe open air their bright colors mingledharmoniously. Chairs were scattered about, and as people met one anotherfriendly circles were formed, just as though the company had beensitting under the trees in a public garden. Children had been allowed togo free and were running from group to group, while over head the standsrose tier above crowded tier and the light-colored dresses therein fadedinto the delicate shadows of the timberwork. Nana stared at all theseladies. She stared steadily and markedly at the Countess Sabine. Afterwhich, as she was passing in front of the imperial stand, the sightof Muffat, looming in all his official stiffness by the side of theempress, made her very merry. 

"Oh, how silly he looks!" she said at the top of her voice toVandeuvres. She was anxious to pay everything a visit. This smallparklike region, with its green lawns and groups of trees, rathercharmed her than otherwise. A vendor of ices had set up a large buffetnear the entrance gates, and beneath a rustic thatched roof a densethrong of people were shouting and gesticulating. This was thering. Close by were some empty stalls, and Nana was disappointed atdiscovering only a gendarme's horse there. Then there was the paddock, a small course some hundred meters in circumference, where a stable helpwas walking about Valerio II in his horsecloths. And, oh, what a lot ofmen on the graveled sidewalks, all of them with their tickets forming anorange-colored patch in their bottonholes! And what a continual paradeof people in the open galleries of the grandstands! The scene interestedher for a moment or two, but truly, it was not worth while getting thespleen because they didn't admit you inside here. 

Daguenet and Fauchery passed by and bowed to her. She made them a sign, and they had to come up. Thereupon she made hay of the weighing-inenclosure. But she broke off abruptly:

"Dear me, there's the Marquis de Chouard! How old he's growing! That oldman's killing himself! Is he still as mad about it as ever?"

Thereupon Daguenet described the old man's last brilliant stroke. Thestory dated from the day before yesterday, and no one knew it as yet. After dangling about for months he had bought her daughter Amelie fromGaga for thirty thousand francs, they said. 

"Good gracious! That's a nice business!" cried Nana in disgust. "Go infor the regular thing, please! But now that I come to think of it, that must be Lili down there on the grass with a lady in a brougham. Irecognized the face. The old boy will have brought her out. "

Vandeuvres was not listening; he was impatient and longed to get rid ofher. But Fauchery having remarked at parting that if she had not seenthe bookmakers she had seen nothing, the count was obliged to take herto them in spite of his obvious repugnance. And she was perfectly happyat once; that truly was a curious sight, she said!

Amid lawns bordered by young horse-chestnut trees there was a round openenclosure, where, forming a vast circle under the shadow of the tendergreen leaves, a dense line of bookmakers was waiting for betting men, as though they had been hucksters at a fair. In order to overtop andcommand the surrounding crowd they had taken up positions on woodenbenches, and they were advertising their prices on the trees besidethem. They had an ever-vigilant glance, and they booked wagers in answerto a single sign, a mere wink, so rapidly that certain curious onlookerswatched them openmouthed, without being able to understand it all. Confusion reigned; prices were shouted, and any unexpected change in aquotation was received with something like tumult. Occasionally scoutsentered the place at a run and redoubled the uproar as they stopped atthe entrance to the rotunda and, at the tops of their voices, announceddepartures and arrivals. In this place, where the gambling feverwas pulsing in the sunshine, such announcements were sure to raise aprolonged muttering sound. 

"They ARE funny!" murmured Nana, greatly entertained. 

"Their features look as if they had been put on the wrong way. Just yousee that big fellow there; I shouldn't care to meet him all alone in themiddle of a wood. "

But Vandeuvres pointed her out a bookmaker, once a shopman in a fancyrepository, who had made three million francs in two years. He wasslight of build, delicate and fair, and people all round him treated himwith great respect. They smiled when they addressed him, while otherstook up positions close by in order to catch a glimpse of him. 

They were at length leaving the ring when Vandeuvres nodded slightly toanother bookmaker, who thereupon ventured to call him. It was one of hisformer coachmen, an enormous fellow with the shoulders of an ox and ahigh color. Now that he was trying his fortunes at race meetings on thestrength of some mysteriously obtained capital, the count was doing hisutmost to push him, confiding to him his secret bets and treating him onall occasions as a servant to whom one shows one's true character. Yetdespite this protection, the man had in rapid succession lost very heavysums, and today he, too, was playing his last card. There was blood inhis eyes; he looked fit to drop with apoplexy. 

"Well, Marechal, " queried the count in the lowest of voices, "to whatamount have you laid odds?"

"To five thousand louis, Monsieur le Comte, " replied the bookmaker, likewise lowering his voice. "A pretty job, eh? I'll confess to you thatI've increased the odds; I've made it three to one. "

Vandeuvres looked very much put out. 

"No, no, I don't want you to do that. Put it at two to one againdirectly. I shan't tell you any more, Marechal. "

"Oh, how can it hurt, Monsieur le Comte, at this time o' day?" rejoinedthe other with the humble smile befitting an accomplice. "I had toattract the people so as to lay your two thousand louis. "

At this Vandeuvres silenced him. But as he was going off Marechalremembered something and was sorry he had not questioned him about theshortening of the odds on the filly. It would be a nice business for himif the filly stood a chance, seeing that he had just laid fifty to oneabout her in two hundreds. 

Nana, though she did not understand a word of what the count waswhispering, dared not, however, ask for new explanations. He seemed morenervous than before and abruptly handed her over to Labordette, whomthey came upon in front of the weighing-in room. 

"You'll take her back, " he said. "I've got something on hand. Aurevoir!"

And he entered the room, which was narrow and low-pitched and halffilled with a great pair of scales. It was like a waiting room in asuburban station, and Nana was again hugely disillusioned, for she hadbeen picturing to herself something on a very vast scale, a monumentalmachine, in fact, for weighing horses. Dear me, they only weighedthe jockeys! Then it wasn't worth while making such a fuss with theirweighing! In the scale a jockey with an idiotic expression was waiting, harness on knee, till a stout man in a frock coat should have doneverifying his weight. At the door a stable help was holding a horse, Cosinus, round which a silent and deeply interested throng wasclustering. 

The course was about to be cleared. Labordette hurried Nana but retracedhis steps in order to show her a little man talking with Vandeuvres atsome distance from the rest. 

"Dear me, there's Price!" he said. 

"Ah yes, the man who's mounting me, " she murmured laughingly. 

And she declared him to be exquisitely ugly. All jockeys struck her aslooking idiotic, doubtless, she said, because they were prevented fromgrowing bigger. This particular jockey was a man of forty, and with hislong, thin, deeply furrowed, hard, dead countenance, he looked like anold shriveled-up child. His body was knotty and so reduced in size thathis blue jacket with its white sleeves looked as if it had been thrownover a lay figure. 

"No, " she resumed as she walked away, "he would never make me veryhappy, you know. "

A mob of people were still crowding the course, the turf of which hadbeen wet and trampled on till it had grown black. In front of the twotelegraphs, which hung very high up on their cast-iron pillars, thecrowd were jostling together with upturned faces, uproariously greetingthe numbers of the different horses as an electric wire in connectionwith the weighing room made them appear. Gentlemen were pointing atprograms: Pichenette had been scratched by his owner, and this causedsome noise. However, Nana did not do more than cross over the courseon Labordette's arm. The bell hanging on the flagstaff was ringingpersistently to warn people to leave the course. 

"Ah, my little dears, " she said as she got up into her landau again, "their enclosure's all humbug!"

She was welcomed with acclamation; people around her clapped theirhands. 

"Bravo, Nana! Nana's ours again!"

What idiots they were, to be sure! Did they think she was the sort tocut old friends? She had come back just at the auspicious moment. Now then, 'tenshun! The race was beginning! And the champagne wasaccordingly forgotten, and everyone left off drinking. 

But Nana was astonished to find Gaga in her carriage, sitting with Bijouand Louiset on her knees. Gaga had indeed decided on this course ofaction in order to be near La Faloise, but she told Nana that she hadbeen anxious to kiss Baby. She adored children. 

"By the by, what about Lili?" asked Nana. "That's certainly she overthere in that old fellow's brougham. They've just told me something verynice!"

Gaga had adopted a lachrymose expression. 

"My dear, it's made me ill, " she said dolorously. "Yesterday I had tokeep my bed, I cried so, and today I didn't think I should be able tocome. You know what my opinions were, don't you? I didn't desire thatkind of thing at all. I had her educated in a convent with a view to agood marriage. And then to think of the strict advice she had and theconstant watching! Well, my dear, it was she who wished it. We had sucha scene--tears--disagreeable speeches! It even got to such a point thatI caught her a box on the ear. She was too much bored by existence, shesaid; she wanted to get out of it. By and by, when she began to say, ''Tisn't you, after all, who've got the right to prevent me, ' I saidto her: 'you're a miserable wretch; you're bringing dishonor upon us. Begone!' And it was done. I consented to arrange about it. But my lasthope's blooming well blasted, and, oh, I used to dream about such nicethings!"

The noise of a quarrel caused them to rise. It was Georges in the act ofdefending Vandeuvres against certain vague rumors which were circulatingamong the various groups. 

"Why should you say that he's laying off his own horse?" the young manwas exclaiming. "Yesterday in the Salon des Courses he took the odds onLusignan for a thousand louis. "

"Yes, I was there, " said Philippe in affirmation of this. "And he didn'tput a single louis on Nana. If the betting's ten to one against Nanahe's got nothing to win there. It's absurd to imagine people are socalculating. Where would his interest come in?"

Labordette was listening with a quiet expression. Shrugging hisshoulders, he said:

"Oh, leave them alone; they must have their say. The count has againlaid at least as much as five hundred louis on Lusignan, and if he'swanted Nana to run to a hundred louis it's because an owner ought alwaysto look as if he believes in his horses. "

"Oh, bosh! What the deuce does that matter to us?" shouted LaFaloise with a wave of his arms. "Spirit's going to win! Down withFrance--bravo, England!"

A long shiver ran through the crowd, while a fresh peal from the bellannounced the arrival of the horses upon the racecourse. At this Nanagot up and stood on one of the seats of her carriage so as to obtaina better view, and in so doing she trampled the bouquets of roses andmyosotis underfoot. With a sweeping glance she took in the wide, vasthorizon. At this last feverish moment the course was empty and closed bygray barriers, between the posts of which stood a line of policemen. The strip of grass which lay muddy in front of her grew brighter as itstretched away and turned into a tender green carpet in the distance. In the middle landscape, as she lowered her eyes, she saw the fieldswarming with vast numbers of people, some on tiptoe, others perched oncarriages, and all heaving and jostling in sudden passionate excitement. 

Horses were neighing; tent canvases flapped, while equestrians urgedtheir hacks forward amid a crowd of pedestrians rushing to get placesalong the barriers. When Nana turned in the direction of the standson the other side the faces seemed diminished, and the dense masses ofheads were only a confused and motley array, filling gangways, steps andterraces and looming in deep, dark, serried lines against the sky. Andbeyond these again she over looked the plain surrounding the course. Behind the ivy-clad mill to the right, meadows, dotted over with greatpatches of umbrageous wood, stretched away into the distance, whileopposite to her, as far as the Seine flowing at the foot of a hill, theavenues of the park intersected one another, filled at that moment withlong, motionless files of waiting carriages; and in the direction ofBoulogne, on the left, the landscape widened anew and opened out towardthe blue distances of Meudon through an avenue of paulownias, whoserosy, leafless tops were one stain of brilliant lake color. People werestill arriving, and a long procession of human ants kept coming alongthe narrow ribbon of road which crossed the distance, while very faraway, on the Paris side, the nonpaying public, herding like sheep amongthe wood, loomed in a moving line of little dark spots under the treeson the skirts of the Bois. 

Suddenly a cheering influence warmed the hundred thousand souls whocovered this part of the plain like insects swarming madly under thevast expanse of heaven. The sun, which had been hidden for about aquarter of an hour, made his appearance again and shone out amida perfect sea of light. And everything flamed afresh: the women'ssunshades turned into countless golden targets above the heads of thecrowd. The sun was applauded, saluted with bursts of laughter. Andpeople stretched their arms out as though to brush apart the clouds. 

Meanwhile a solitary police officer advanced down the middle of thedeserted racecourse, while higher up, on the left, a man appeared with ared flag in his hand. 

"It's the starter, the Baron de Mauriac, " said Labordette in reply to aquestion from Nana. All round the young woman exclamations were burstingfrom the men who were pressing to her very carriage step. They kept upa disconnected conversation, jerking out phrases under the immediateinfluence of passing impressions. Indeed, Philippe and Georges, Bordenave and La Faloise, could not be quiet. 

"Don't shove! Let me see! Ah, the judge is getting into his box. D'yousay it's Monsieur de Souvigny? You must have good eyesight--eh?--to beable to tell what half a head is out of a fakement like that! Do holdyour tongue--the banner's going up. Here they are--'tenshun! Cosinus isthe first!"

A red and yellow banner was flapping in mid-air at the top of a mast. The horses came on the course one by one; they were led by stableboys, and the jockeys were sitting idle-handed in the saddles, the sunlightmaking them look like bright dabs of color. After Cosinus appearedHazard and Boum. Presently a murmur of approval greeted Spirit, amagnificent big brown bay, the harsh citron color and black of whosejockey were cheerlessly Britannic. Valerio II scored a success as hecame in; he was small and very lively, and his colors were soft greenbordered with pink. The two Vandeuvres horses were slow to make theirappearance, but at last, in Frangipane's rear, the blue and white showedthemselves. But Lusignan, a very dark bay of irreproachable shape, wasalmost forgotten amid the astonishment caused by Nana. People had notseen her looking like this before, for now the sudden sunlight wasdyeing the chestnut filly the brilliant color of a girl's red-gold hair. She was shining in the light like a new gold coin; her chest was deep;her head and neck tapered lightly from the delicate, high-strung line ofher long back. 

"Gracious, she's got my hair!" cried Nana in an ecstasy. "You bet youknow I'm proud of it!"

The men clambered up on the landau, and Bordenave narrowly escapedputting his foot on Louiset, whom his mother had forgotten. He tookhim up with an outburst of paternal grumbling and hoisted him on hisshoulder, muttering at the same time:

"The poor little brat, he must be in it too! Wait a bit, I'll show youMamma. Eh? Look at Mummy out there. "

And as Bijou was scratching his legs, he took charge of him, too, whileNana, rejoicing in the brute that bore her name, glanced round at theother women to see how they took it. They were all raging madly. Justthen on the summit of her cab the Tricon, who had not moved till thatmoment, began waving her hand and giving her bookmaker her orders abovethe heads of the crowd. Her instinct had at last prompted her; she wasbacking Nana. 

La Faloise meanwhile was making an insufferable noise. He was gettingwild over Frangipane. 

"I've an inspiration, " he kept shouting. "Just look at Frangipane. Whatan action, eh? I back Frangipane at eight to one. Who'll take me?"

"Do keep quiet now, " said Labordette at last. "You'll be sorry for it ifyou do. "

"Frangipane's a screw, " Philippe declared. "He's been utterly blown uponalready. You'll see the canter. "

The horses had gone up to the right, and they now started for thepreliminary canter, passing in loose order before the stands. Thereuponthere was a passionate fresh burst of talk, and people all spoke atonce. 

"Lusignan's too long in the back, but he's very fit. Not a cent, I tellyou, on Valerio II; he's nervous--gallops with his head up--it's a badsign. Jove! Burne's riding Spirit. I tell you, he's got no shoulders. Awell-made shoulder--that's the whole secret. No, decidedly, Spirit's tooquiet. Now listen, Nana, I saw her after the Grande Poule des Produits, and she was dripping and draggled, and her sides were trembling like oneo'clock. I lay twenty louis she isn't placed! Oh, shut up! He's boringus with his Frangipane. There's no time to make a bet now; there, they're off!"

Almost in tears, La Faloise was struggling to find a bookmaker. He hadto be reasoned with. Everyone craned forward, but the first go-offwas bad, the starter, who looked in the distance like a slim dash ofblackness, not having lowered his flag. The horses came back to theirplaces after galloping a moment or two. There were two more falsestarts. At length the starter got the horses together and sent them awaywith such address as to elicit shouts of applause. 

"Splendid! No, it was mere chance! Never mind--it's done it!"

The outcries were smothered by the anxiety which tortured every breast. The betting stopped now, and the game was being played on the vastcourse itself. Silence reigned at the outset, as though everyone wereholding his breath. White faces and trembling forms were stretchedforward in all directions. At first Hazard and Cosinus made the runningat the head of the rest; Valerio II followed close by, and the fieldcame on in a confused mass behind. When they passed in front of thestands, thundering over the ground in their course like a suddenstormwind, the mass was already some fourteen lengths in extent. Frangipane was last, and Nana was slightly behind Lusignan and Spirit. 

"Egad!" muttered Labordette, "how the Englishman is pulling it off outthere!"

The whole carriageload again burst out with phrases and exclamations. Everyone rose on tiptoe and followed the bright splashes of color whichwere the jockeys as they rushed through the sunlight. 

At the rise Valerio II took the lead, while Cosinus and Hazard lostground, and Lusignan and Spirit were running neck and neck with Nanastill behind them. 

"By jingo, the Englishman's gained! It's palpable!" said Bordenave. "Lusignan's in difficulties, and Valerio II can't stay. "

"Well, it will be a pretty biz if the Englishman wins!" cried Philippein an access of patriotic grief. 

A feeling of anguish was beginning to choke all that crowded multitude. Another defeat! And with that a strange ardent prayer, which was almostreligious, went up for Lusignan, while people heaped abuse on Spirit andhis dismal mute of a jockey. Among the crowd scattered over the grassthe wind of excitement put up whole groups of people and set theirboot soles flashing in air as they ran. Horsemen crossed the green at afurious gallop. And Nana, who was slowly revolving on her own axis, sawbeneath her a surging waste of beasts and men, a sea of heads swayed andstirred all round the course by the whirlwind of the race, which clovethe horizon with the bright lightning flash of the jockeys. She had beenfollowing their movement from behind while the cruppers sped away andthe legs seemed to grow longer as they raced and then diminished tillthey looked slender as strands of hair. Now the horses were running atthe end of the course, and she caught a side view of them looking minuteand delicate of outline against the green distances of the Bois. Thensuddenly they vanished behind a great clump of trees growing in themiddle of the Hippodrome. 

"Don't talk about it!" cried Georges, who was still full of hope. "Itisn't over yet. The Englishman's touched. "

But La Faloise was again seized with contempt for his country and grewpositively outrageous in his applause of Spirit. Bravo! That was right!France needed it! Spirit first and Frangipane second--that would be anasty one for his native land! He exasperated Labordette, who threatenedseriously to throw him off the carriage. 

"Let's see how many minutes they'll be about it, " said Bordenavepeaceably, for though holding up Louiset, he had taken out his watch. 

One after the other the horses reappeared from behind the clump oftrees. There was stupefaction; a long murmur arose among the crowd. Valerio II was still leading, but Spirit was gaining on him, and behindhim Lusignan had slackened while another horse was taking his place. People could not make this out all at once; they were confused about thecolors. Then there was a burst of exclamations. 

"But it's Nana! Nana? Get along! I tell you Lusignan hasn't budged. Dearme, yes, it's Nana. You can certainly recognize her by her golden color. D'you see her now? She's blazing away. Bravo, Nana! What a rippershe is! Bah, it doesn't matter a bit: she's making the running forLusignan!"

For some seconds this was everybody's opinion. But little by little thefilly kept gaining and gaining, spurting hard all the while. Thereupona vast wave of feeling passed over the crowd, and the tail of horses inthe rear ceased to interest. A supreme struggle was beginning betweenSpirit, Nana, Lusignan and Valerio II. They were pointed out; peopleestimated what ground they had gained or lost in disconnected, gaspingphrases. And Nana, who had mounted up on the coach box, as though somepower had lifted her thither, stood white and trembling and so deeplymoved as not to be able to speak. At her side Labordette smiled as ofold. 

"The Englishman's in trouble, eh?" said Philippe joyously. "He's goingbadly. "

"In any case, it's all up with Lusignan, " shouted La Faloise. "ValerioII is coming forward. Look, there they are all four together. "

The same phrase was in every mouth. 

"What a rush, my dears! By God, what a rush!"

The squad of horses was now passing in front of them like a flash oflightning. Their approach was perceptible--the breath of it was as adistant muttering which increased at every second. The whole crowd hadthrown themselves impetuously against the barriers, and a deep clamorissued from innumerable chests before the advance of the horses anddrew nearer and nearer like the sound of a foaming tide. It was the lastfierce outburst of colossal partisanship; a hundred thousand spectatorswere possessed by a single passion, burning with the same gambler'slust, as they gazed after the beasts, whose galloping feet were sweepingmillions with them. The crowd pushed and crushed--fists were clenched;people gaped, openmouthed; every man was fighting for himself; every manwith voice and gesture was madly speeding the horse of his choice. Andthe cry of all this multitude, a wild beast's cry despite the garb ofcivilization, grew ever more distinct:

"Here they come! Here they come! Here they come!"

But Nana was still gaining ground, and now Valerio II was distanced, and she was heading the race, with Spirit two or three necks behind. Therolling thunder of voices had increased. They were coming in; a storm ofoaths greeted them from the landau. 

"Gee up, Lusignan, you great coward! The Englishman's stunning! Do itagain, old boy; do it again! Oh, that Valerio! It's sickening! Oh, thecarcass! My ten louis damned well lost! Nana's the only one! Bravo, Nana! Bravo!"

And without being aware of it Nana, upon her seat, had begun jerking herhips and waist as though she were racing herself. She kept strikingher side--she fancied it was a help to the filly. With each stroke shesighed with fatigue and said in low, anguished tones:

"Go it, go it!"

Then a splendid sight was witnessed. Price, rising in his stirrupsand brandishing his whip, flogged Nana with an arm of iron. The oldshriveled-up child with his long, hard, dead face seemed to breathflame. And in a fit of furious audacity and triumphant will he put hisheart into the filly, held her up, lifted her forward, drenched infoam, with eyes of blood. The whole rush of horses passed with a roar ofthunder: it took away people's breaths; it swept the air with it whilethe judge sat frigidly waiting, his eye adjusted to its task. Then therewas an immense re-echoing burst of acclamation. With a supreme effortPrice had just flung Nana past the post, thus beating Spirit by a head. 

There was an uproar as of a rising tide. "Nana! Nana! Nana!" The cryrolled up and swelled with the violence of a tempest, till little bylittle it filled the distance, the depths of the Bois as far as MontValerien, the meadows of Longchamps and the Plaine de Boulogne. In allparts of the field the wildest enthusiasm declared itself. "Vive Nana!Vive la France! Down with England!" The women waved their sunshades; menleaped and spun round, vociferating as they did so, while others withshouts of nervous laughter threw their hats in the air. And from theother side of the course the enclosure made answer; the people onthe stands were stirred, though nothing was distinctly visible save atremulous motion of the air, as though an invisible flame were burningin a brazier above the living mass of gesticulating arms and littlewildly moving faces, where the eyes and gaping mouths looked like blackdots. The noise did not cease but swelled up and recommenced in therecesses of faraway avenues and among the people encamped under thetrees, till it spread on and on and attained its climax in the imperialstand, where the empress herself had applauded. "Nana! Nana! Nana!" Thecry rose heavenward in the glorious sunlight, whose golden rain beatfiercely on the dizzy heads of the multitude. 

Then Nana, looming large on the seat of her landau, fancied that it wasshe whom they were applauding. For a moment or two she had stood devoidof motion, stupefied by her triumph, gazing at the course as it wasinvaded by so dense a flood of people that the turf became invisiblebeneath the sea of black hats. By and by, when this crowd had becomesomewhat less disorderly and a lane had been formed as far as theexit and Nana was again applauded as she went off with Pricehanging lifelessly and vacantly over her neck, she smacked her thighenergetically, lost all self-possession, triumphed in crude phrases:

"Oh, by God, it's me; it's me. Oh, by God, what luck!"

And, scarce knowing how to give expression to her overwhelming joy, shehugged and kissed Louiset, whom she now discovered high in the air onBordenave's shoulder. 

"Three minutes and fourteen seconds, " said the latter as he put hiswatch back in his pocket. 

Nana kept hearing her name; the whole plain was echoing it back toher. Her people were applauding her while she towered above them inthe sunlight, in the splendor of her starry hair and white-and-sky-bluedress. Labordette, as he made off, had just announced to her a gain oftwo thousand louis, for he had put her fifty on Nana at forty to one. But the money stirred her less than this unforeseen victory, the fame ofwhich made her queen of Paris. All the other ladies were losers. Witha raging movement Rose Mignon had snapped her sunshade, and CarolineHequet and Clarisse and Simonne--nay, Lucy Stewart herself, despite thepresence of her son--were swearing low in their exasperation at thatgreat wench's luck, while the Tricon, who had made the sign of the crossat both start and finish, straightened up her tall form above them, wentinto an ecstasy over her intuition and damned Nana admiringly as becamean experienced matron. 

Meanwhile round the landau the crush of men increased. The band ofNana's immediate followers had made a fierce uproar, and now Georges, choking with emotion, continued shouting all by himself in breakingtones. As the champagne had given out, Philippe, taking the footmen withhim, had run to the wine bars. Nana's court was growing and growing, and her present triumph caused many loiterers to join her. Indeed, thatmovement which had made her carriage a center of attraction to the wholefield was now ending in an apotheosis, and Queen Venus was enthronedamid suddenly maddened subjects. Bordenave, behind her, was mutteringoaths, for he yearned to her as a father. Steiner himself had beenreconquered--he had deserted Simonne and had hoisted himself upon one ofNana's carriage steps. When the champagne had arrived, when she liftedher brimming glass, such applause burst forth, and "Nana! Nana! Nana!"was so loudly repeated that the crowd looked round in astonishment forthe filly, nor could any tell whether it was the horse or the woman thatfilled all hearts. 

While this was going on Mignon came hastening up in defiance of Rose'sterrible frown. That confounded girl simply maddened him, and he wantedto kiss her. Then after imprinting a paternal salute on both her cheeks:

"What bothers me, " he said, "is that now Rose is certainly going to sendthe letter. She's raging, too, fearfully. "

"So much the better! It'll do my business for me!" Nana let slip. 

But noting his utter astonishment, she hastily continued:

"No, no, what am I saying? Indeed, I don't rightly know what I'm sayingnow! I'm drunk. "

And drunk, indeed, drunk with joy, drunk with sunshine, she still raisedher glass on high and applauded herself. 

"To Nana! To Nana!" she cried amid a redoubled uproar of laughter andbravoes, which little by little overspread the whole Hippodrome. 

The races were ending, and the Prix Vaublanc was run for. Carriagesbegan driving off one by one. Meanwhile, amid much disputing, the nameof Vandeuvres was again mentioned. It was quite evident now: for twoyears past Vandeuvres had been preparing his final stroke and hadaccordingly told Gresham to hold Nana in, while he had only broughtLusignan forward in order to make play for the filly. The losers werevexed; the winners shrugged their shoulders. After all, wasn't the thingpermissible? An owner was free to run his stud in his own way. Manyothers had done as he had! In fact, the majority thought Vandeuvres haddisplayed great skill in raking in all he could get about Nana throughthe agency of friends, a course of action which explained the suddenshortening of the odds. People spoke of his having laid two thousandlouis on the horse, which, supposing the odds to be thirty to oneagainst, gave him twelve hundred thousand francs, an amount so vast asto inspire respect and to excuse everything. 

But other rumors of a very serious nature were being whispered about:they issued in the first instance from the enclosure, and the men whoreturned thence were full of exact particulars. Voices were raised;an atrocious scandal began to be openly canvassed. That poor fellowVandeuvres was done for; he had spoiled his splendid hit with a piece offlat stupidity, an idiotic robbery, for he had commissioned Marechal, a shady bookmaker, to lay two thousand louis on his account againstLusignan, in order thereby to get back his thousand and odd openlywagered louis. It was a miserable business, and it proved to be the lastrift necessary to the utter breakup of his fortune. The bookmaker beingthus warned that the favorite would not win, had realized some sixtythousand francs over the horse. Only Labordette, for lack of exact anddetailed instructions, had just then gone to him to put two hundredlouis on Nana, which the bookmaker, in his ignorance of the strokeactually intended, was still quoting at fifty to one against. Clearedof one hundred thousand francs over the filly and a loser to the tune offorty thousand, Marechal, who felt the world crumbling under his feet, had suddenly divined the situation when he saw the count and Labordettetalking together in front of the enclosure just after the race was over. Furious, as became an ex-coachman of the count's, and brutally frank asonly a cheated man can be, he had just made a frightful scene in public, had told the whole story in atrocious terms and had thrown everyone intoangry excitement. It was further stated that the stewards were about tomeet. 

Nana, whom Philippe and Georges were whisperingly putting in possessionof the facts, gave vent to a series of reflections and yet ceased notto laugh and drink. After all, it was quite likely; she remembered suchthings, and then that Marechal had a dirty, hangdog look. Nevertheless, she was still rather doubtful when Labordette appeared. He was verywhite. 

"Well?" she asked in a low voice. 

"Bloody well smashed up!" he replied simply. 

And he shrugged his shoulders. That Vandeuvres was a mere child! Shemade a bored little gesture. 

That evening at the Bal Mabille Nana obtained a colossal success. Whentoward ten o'clock she made her appearance, the uproar was afreadyformidable. That classic night of madness had brought together all thatwas young and pleasure loving, and now this smart world was wallowing inthe coarseness and imbecility of the servants' hall. There was a fiercecrush under the festoons of gas lamps, and men in evening coats andwomen in outrageous low-necked old toilets, which they did not mindsoiling, were howling and surging to and fro under the maddeninginfluence of a vast drunken fit. At a distance of thirty paces the brassinstruments of the orchestra were inaudible. Nobody was dancing. Stupidwitticisms, repeated no one knew why, were going the round of thevarious groups. People were straining after wit without succeeding inbeing funny. Seven women, imprisoned in the cloakroom, were crying to beset free. A shallot had been found, put up to auction and knocked downat two louis. Just then Nana arrived, still wearing her blue-and-whiteracecourse costume, and amid a thunder of applause the shallot waspresented to her. People caught hold of her in her own despite, andthree gentlemen bore her triumphantly into the garden, across ruinedgrassplots and ravaged masses of greenery. As the bandstand presentedan obstacle to her advance, it was taken by storm, and chairs and musicstands were smashed. A paternal police organized the disorder. 

It was only on Tuesday that Nana recovered from the excitements ofvictory. That morning she was chatting with Mme Lerat, the old ladyhaving come in to bring her news of Louiset, whom the open air hadupset. A long story, which was occupying the attention of all Paris, interested her beyond measure. Vandeuvres, after being warned off allracecourses and posted at the Cercle Imperial on the very evening afterthe disaster, had set fire to his stable on the morrow and had burnedhimself and his horses to death. 

"He certainly told me he was going to, " the young woman kept saying. "That man was a regular maniac! Oh, how they did frighten me whenthey told me about it yesterday evening! You see, he might easily havemurdered me some fine night. And besides, oughtn't he to have given me ahint about his horse? I should at any rate have made my fortune! He saidto Labordette that if I knew about the matter I would immediately informmy hairdresser and a whole lot of other men. How polite, eh? Oh dear, no, I certainly can't grieve much for him. "

After some reflection she had grown very angry. Just then Labordettecame in; he had seen about her bets and was now the bearer of some fortythousand francs. This only added to her bad temper, for she ought tohave gained a million. Labordette, who during the whole of this episodehad been pretending entire innocence, abandoned Vandeuvres in decisiveterms. Those old families, he opined, were worn out and apt to make astupid ending. 

"Oh dear no!" said Nana. "It isn't stupid to burn oneself in one'sstable as he did. For my part, I think he made a dashing finish; but, oh, you know, I'm not defending that story about him and Marechal. It'stoo silly. Just to think that Blanche has had the cheek to want to laythe blame of it on me! I said to her: 'Did I tell him to steal?' Don'tyou think one can ask a man for money without urging him to commitcrime? If he had said to me, 'I've got nothing left, ' I should havesaid to him, 'All right, let's part. ' And the matter wouldn't have gonefurther. "

"Just so, " said the aunt gravely "When men are obstinate about a thing, so much the worse for them!"

"But as to the merry little finish up, oh, that was awfully smart!"continued Nana. "It appears to have been terrible enough to give you theshudders! He sent everybody away and boxed himself up in the place witha lot of petroleum. And it blazed! You should have seen it! Just think, a great big affair, almost all made of wood and stuffed with hay andstraw! The flames simply towered up, and the finest part of the businesswas that the horses didn't want to be roasted. They could be heardplunging, throwing themselves against the doors, crying aloud just likehuman beings. Yes, people haven't got rid of the horror of it yet. "

Labordette let a low, incredulous whistle escape him. For his part, hedid not believe in the death of Vandeuvres. Somebody had sworn he hadseen him escaping through a window. He had set fire to his stable in afit of aberration, but when it had begun to grow too warm it must havesobered him. A man so besotted about the women and so utterly worn outcould not possibly die so pluckily. 

Nana listened in her disillusionment and could only remark:

"Oh, the poor wretch, it was so beautiful!"

CHAPTER XII

Toward one in the morning, in the great bed of the Venice pointdraperies, Nana and the count lay still awake. He had returned to herthat evening after a three days sulking fit. The room, which was dimlyillumined by a lamp, seemed to slumber amid a warm, damp odor of love, while the furniture, with its white lacquer and silver incrustations, loomed vague and wan through the gloom. A curtain had been drawn to, sothat the bed lay flooded with shadow. A sigh became audible; then a kissbroke the silence, and Nana, slipping off the coverlet, sat for a momentor two, barelegged, on the edge of the bed. The count let his head fallback on the pillow and remained in darkness. 

"Dearest, you believe in the good God, don't you?" she queried aftersome moments' reflection. Her face was serious; she had been overcome bypious terrors on quitting her lover's arms. 

Since morning, indeed, she had been complaining of feelinguncomfortable, and all her stupid notions, as she phrased it, notionsabout death and hell, were secretly torturing her. From time to timeshe had nights such as these, during which childish fears and atrociousfancies would thrill her with waking nightmares. She continued:

"I say, d'you think I shall go to heaven?"

And with that she shivered, while the count, in his surprise at herputting such singular questions at such a moment, felt his old religiousremorse returning upon him. Then with her chemise slipping from hershoulders and her hair unpinned, she again threw herself upon hisbreast, sobbing and clinging to him as she did so. 

"I'm afraid of dying! I'm afraid of dying!" He had all the trouble inthe world to disengage himself. Indeed, he was himself afraid of givingin to the sudden madness of this woman clinging to his body in her dreadof the Invisible. Such dread is contagious, and he reasoned with her. Her conduct was perfect--she had only to conduct herself well in orderone day to merit pardon. But she shook her head. Doubtless she was doingno one any harm; nay, she was even in the constant habit of wearing amedal of the Virgin, which she showed to him as it hung by a red threadbetween her breasts. Only it had been foreordained that all unmarriedwomen who held conversation with men would go to hell. Scraps of hercatechism recurred to her remembrance. Ah, if one only knew for certain, but, alas, one was sure of nothing; nobody ever brought back anyinformation, and then, truly, it would be stupid to bother oneselfabout things if the priests were talking foolishness all the time. Nevertheless, she religiously kissed her medal, which was still warmfrom contact with her skin, as though by way of charm against death, the idea of which filled her with icy horror. Muffat was obliged toaccompany her into the dressing room, for she shook at the idea of beingalone there for one moment, even though she had left the door open. Whenhe had lain down again she still roamed about the room, visiting itsseveral corners and starting and shivering at the slightest noise. Amirror stopped her, and as of old she lapsed into obvious contemplationof her nakedness. But the sight of her breast, her waist and her thighsonly doubled her terror, and she ended by feeling with both hands veryslowly over the bones of her face. 

"You're ugly when you're dead, " she said in deliberate tones. 

And she pressed her cheeks, enlarging her eyes and pushing down her jaw, in order to see how she would look. Thus disfigured, she turned towardthe count. 

"Do look! My head'll be quite small, it will!"

At this he grew vexed. 

"You're mad; come to bed!"

He fancied he saw her in a grave, emaciated by a century of sleep, andhe joined his hands and stammered a prayer. It was some time ago thatthe religious sense had reconquered him, and now his daily access offaith had again assumed the apoplectic intensity which was wont to leavehim well-nigh stunned. The joints of his fingers used to crack, and hewould repeat without cease these words only: "My God, my God, my God!"It was the cry of his impotence, the cry of that sin against which, though his damnation was certain, he felt powerless to strive. When Nanareturned she found him hidden beneath the bedclothes; he was haggard; hehad dug his nails into his bosom, and his eyes stared upward as thoughin search of heaven. And with that she started to weep again. Then theyboth embraced, and their teeth chattered they knew not why, as the sameimbecile obsession over-mastered them. They had already passed a similarnight, but on this occasion the thing was utterly idiotic, as Nanadeclared when she ceased to be frightened. She suspected something, andthis caused her to question the count in a prudent sort of way. It mightbe that Rose Mignon had sent the famous letter! But that was not thecase; it was sheer fright, nothing more, for he was still ignorantwhether he was a cuckold or no. 

Two days later, after a fresh disappearance, Muffat presented himselfin the morning, a time of day at which he never came. He was livid;his eyes were red and his whole man still shaken by a great internalstruggle. But Zoe, being scared herself, did not notice his troubledstate. She had run to meet him and now began crying:

"Oh, monsieur, do come in! Madame nearly died yesterday evening!"

And when he asked for particulars:

"Something it's impossible to believe has happened--a miscarriage, monsieur. "

Nana had been in the family way for the past three months. For long shehad simply thought herself out of sorts, and Dr Boutarel had himselfbeen in doubt. But when afterward he made her a decisive announcement, she felt so bored thereby that she did all she possibly could todisguise her condition. Her nervous terrors, her dark humors, sprang tosome extent from this unfortunate state of things, the secret of whichshe kept very shamefacedly, as became a courtesan mother who is obligedto conceal her plight. The thing struck her as a ridiculous accident, which made her appear small in her own eyes and would, had it beenknown, have led people to chaff her. 

"A poor joke, eh?" she said. "Bad luck, too, certainly. "

She was necessarily very sharp set when she thought her last hour hadcome. There was no end to her surprise, too; her sexual economy seemedto her to have got out of order; it produced children then even whenone did not want them and when one employed it for quite other purposes!Nature drove her to exasperation; this appearance of serious motherhoodin a career of pleasure, this gift of life amid all the deaths she wasspreading around, exasperated her. Why could one not dispose of oneselfas fancy dictated, without all this fuss? And whence had this brat come?She could not even suggest a father. Ah, dear heaven, the man who madehim would have a splendid notion had he kept him in his own hands, fornobody asked for him; he was in everybody's way, and he would certainlynot have much happiness in life!

Meanwhile Zoe described the catastrophe. 

"Madame was seized with colic toward four o'clock. When she didn't comeback out of the dressing room I went in and found her lying stretched onthe floor in a faint. Yes, monsieur, on the floor in a pool of blood, asthough she had been murdered. Then I understood, you see. I was furious;Madame might quite well have confided her trouble to me. As it happened, Monsieur Georges was there, and he helped me to lift her up, anddirectly a miscarriage was mentioned he felt ill in his turn! Oh, it'strue I've had the hump since yesterday!"

In fact, the house seemed utterly upset. All the servants were gallopingupstairs, downstairs and through the rooms. Georges had passed the nighton an armchair in the drawing room. It was he who had announced the newsto Madame's friends at that hour of the evening when Madame was in thehabit of receiving. He had still been very pale, and he had told hisstory very feelingly, and as though stupefied. Steiner, La Faloise, Philippe and others, besides, had presented themselves, and at the endof the lad's first phrase they burst into exclamations. The thing wasimpossible! It must be a farce! After which they grew serious and gazedwith an embarrassed expression at her bedroom door. They shook theirheads; it was no laughing matter. 

Till midnight a dozen gentlemen had stood talking in low voices in frontof the fireplace. All were friends; all were deeply exercised by thesame idea of paternity. They seemed to be mutually excusing themselves, and they looked as confused as if they had done something clumsy. Eventually, however, they put a bold face on the matter. It had nothingto do with them: the fault was hers! What a stunner that Nana was, eh?One would never have believed her capable of such a fake! And with thatthey departed one by one, walking on tiptoe, as though in a chamber ofdeath where you cannot laugh. 

"Come up all the same, monsieur, " said Zoe to Muffat. "Madame is muchbetter and will see you. We are expecting the doctor, who promised tocome back this morning. "

The lady's maid had persuaded Georges to go back home to sleep, andupstairs in the drawing room only Satin remained. She lay stretched on adivan, smoking a cigarette and scanning the ceiling. Amid the householdscare which had followed the accident she had been white with rage, had shrugged her shoulders violently and had made ferocious remarks. Accordingly, when Zoe was passing in front of her and telling Monsieurthat poor, dear Madame had suffered a great deal:

"That's right; it'll teach him!" said Satin curtly. 

They turned round in surprise, but she had not moved a muscle; her eyeswere still turned toward the ceiling, and her cigarette was still wedgedtightly between her lips. 

"Dear me, you're charming, you are!" said Zoe. 

But Satin sat up, looked savagely at the count and once more hurled herremark at him. 

"That's right; it'll teach him!"

And she lay down again and blew forth a thin jet of smoke, as though shehad no interest in present events and were resolved not to meddle in anyof them. No, it was all too silly!

Zoe, however, introduced Muffat into the bedroom, where a scent of etherlingered amid warm, heavy silence, scarce broken by the dull roll ofoccasional carriages in the Avenue de Villiers. Nana, looking very whiteon her pillow, was lying awake with wide-open, meditative eyes. Shesmiled when she saw the count but did not move. 

"Ah, dear pet!" she slowly murmured. "I really thought I should neversee you again. "

Then as he leaned forward to kiss her on the hair, she grew tendertoward him and spoke frankly about the child, as though he were itsfather. 

"I never dared tell you; I felt so happy about it! Oh, I used to dreamabout it; I should have liked to be worthy of you! And now there'snothing left. Ah well, perhaps that's best. I don't want to bring astumbling block into your life. "

Astounded by this story of paternity, he began stammering vague phrases. He had taken a chair and had sat down by the bed, leaning one arm on thecoverlet. Then the young woman noticed his wild expression, the bloodreddening his eyes, the fever that set his lips aquiver. 

"What's the matter then?" she asked. "You're ill too. "

"No, " he answered with extreme difficulty. 

She gazed at him with a profound expression. Then she signed to Zoeto retire, for the latter was lingering round arranging the medicinebottles. And when they were alone she drew him down to her and againasked:

"What's the matter with you, darling? The tears are ready to burst fromyour eyes--I can see that quite well. Well now, speak out; you've cometo tell me something. "

"No, no, I swear I haven't, " he blurted out. But he was choking withsuffering, and this sickroom, into which he had suddenly enteredunawares, so worked on his feelings that he burst out sobbing and buriedhis face in the bedclothes to smother the violence of his grief. Nanaunderstood. Rose Mignon had most assuredly decided to send the letter. She let him weep for some moments, and he was shaken by convulsions sofierce that the bed trembled under her. At length in accents of motherlycompassion she queried:

"You've had bothers at your home?"

He nodded affirmatively. She paused anew, and then very low:

"Then you know all?"

He nodded assent. And a heavy silence fell over the chamber ofsuffering. The night before, on his return from a party given by theempress, he had received the letter Sabine had written her lover. Afteran atrocious night passed in the meditation of vengeance he had gone outin the morning in order to resist a longing which prompted him tokill his wife. Outside, under a sudden, sweet influence of a fine Junemorning, he had lost the thread of his thoughts and had come to Nana's, as he always came at terrible moments in his life. There only he gaveway to his misery, for he felt a cowardly joy at the thought that shewould console him. 

"Now look here, be calm!" the young woman continued, becoming atthe same time extremely kind. "I've known it a long time, but it wascertainly not I that would have opened your eyes. You remember you hadyour doubts last year, but then things arranged themselves, owing to myprudence. In fact, you wanted proofs. The deuce, you've got one today, and I know it's hard lines. Nevertheless, you must look at the matterquietly: you're not dishonored because it's happened. "

He had left off weeping. A sense of shame restrained him from sayingwhat he wanted to, although he had long ago slipped into the mostintimate confessions about his household. She had to encourage him. Dearme, she was a woman; she could understand everything. When in a dullvoice he exclaimed:

"You're ill. What's the good of tiring you? It was stupid of me to havecome. I'm going--"

"No, " she answered briskly enough. "Stay! Perhaps I shall be able togive you some good advice. Only don't make me talk too much; the medicalman's forbidden it. "

He had ended by rising, and he was now walking up and down the room. Then she questioned him:

"Now what are you going to do?

"I'm going to box the man's ears--by heavens, yes!"

She pursed up her lips disapprovingly. 

"That's not very wise. And about your wife?"

"I shall go to law; I've proofs. "

"Not at all wise, my dear boy. It's stupid even. You know I shall neverlet you do that!"

And in her feeble voice she showed him decisively how useless andscandalous a duel and a trial would be. He would be a nine days'newspaper sensation; his whole existence would be at stake, his peaceof mind, his high situation at court, the honor of his name, and all forwhat? That he might have the laughers against him. 

"What will it matter?" he cried. "I shall have had my revenge. "

"My pet, " she said, "in a business of that kind one never has one'srevenge if one doesn't take it directly. "

He paused and stammered. He was certainly no poltroon, but he felt thatshe was right. An uneasy feeling was growing momentarily stronger withinhim, a poor, shameful feeling which softened his anger now that it wasat its hottest. Moreover, in her frank desire to tell him everything, she dealt him a fresh blow. 

"And d'you want to know what's annoying you, dearest? Why, that youare deceiving your wife yourself. You don't sleep away from home fornothing, eh? Your wife must have her suspicions. Well then, how can youblame her? She'll tell you that you've set her the example, and that'llshut you up. There, now, that's why you're stamping about here insteadof being at home murdering both of 'em. "

Muffat had again sunk down on the chair; he was overwhelmed by thesehome thrusts. She broke off and took breath, and then in a low voice:

"Oh, I'm a wreck! Do help me sit up a bit. I keep slipping down, and myhead's too low. "

When he had helped her she sighed and felt more comfortable. And withthat she harked back to the subject. What a pretty sight a divorce suitwould be! Couldn't he imagine the advocate of the countess amusing Pariswith his remarks about Nana? Everything would have come out--her fiascoat the Varietes, her house, her manner of life. Oh dear, no! She hadno wish for all that amount of advertising. Some dirty women might, perhaps, have driven him to it for the sake of getting a thundering bigadvertisement, but she--she desired his happiness before all else. Shehad drawn him down toward her and, after passing her arm around hisneck, was nursing his head close to hers on the edge of the pillow. Andwith that she whispered softly:

"Listen, my pet, you shall make it up with your wife. "

But he rebelled at this. It could never be! His heart was nigh breakingat the thought; it was too shameful. Nevertheless, she kept tenderlyinsisting. 

"You shall make it up with your wife. Come, come, you don't want to hearall the world saying that I've tempted you away from your home? I shouldhave too vile a reputation! What would people think of me? Only swearthat you'll always love me, because the moment you go with anotherwoman--"

Tears choked her utterance, and he intervened with kisses and said:

"You're beside yourself; it's impossible!"

"Yes, yes, " she rejoined, "you must. But I'll be reasonable. After all, she's your wife, and it isn't as if you were to play me false with thefirstcomer. "

And she continued in this strain, giving him the most excellent advice. She even spoke of God, and the count thought he was listening to M. Venot, when that old gentleman endeavored to sermonize him out of thegrasp of sin. Nana, however, did not speak of breaking it off entirely:she preached indulgent good nature and suggested that, as became a dear, nice old fellow, he should divide his attentions between his wife andhis mistress, so that they would all enjoy a quiet life, devoid of anykind of annoyance, something, in fact, in the nature of a happy slumberamid the inevitable miseries of existence. Their life would be nowisechanged: he would still be the little man of her heart. Only he wouldcome to her a bit less often and would give the countess the nights notpassed with her. She had got to the end of her strength and left off, speaking under her breath:

"After that I shall feel I've done a good action, and you'll love me allthe more. "

Silence reigned. She had closed her eyes and lay wan upon her pillow. The count was patiently listening to her, not wishing her to tireherself. A whole minute went by before she reopened her eyes andmurmured:

"Besides, how about the money? Where would you get the money from if youmust grow angry and go to law? Labordette came for the bill yesterday. As for me, I'm out of everything; I have nothing to put on now. "

Then she shut her eyes again and looked like one dead. A shadow of deepanguish had passed over Muffat's brow. Under the present stroke he hadsince yesterday forgotten the money troubles from which he knew nothow to escape. Despite formal promises to the contrary, the bill fora hundred thousand francs had been put in circulation after being oncerenewed, and Labordette, pretending to be very miserable about it, threw all the blame on Francis, declaring that he would never again mixhimself up in such a matter with an uneducated man. It was necessaryto pay, for the count would never have allowed his signature to beprotested. Then in addition to Nana's novel demands, his home expenseswere extraordinarily confused. On their return from Les Fondettes thecountess had suddenly manifested a taste for luxury, a longing forworldly pleasures, which was devouring their fortune. Her ruinouscaprices began to be talked about. Their whole household management wasaltered, and five hundred thousand francs were squandered in utterlytransforming the old house in the Rue Miromesnil. Then there wereextravagantly magnificent gowns and large sums disappeared, squanderedor perhaps given away, without her ever dreaming of accounting for them. Twice Muffat ventured to mention this, for he was anxious to know howthe money went, but on these occasions she had smiled and gazed at himwith so singular an expression that he dared not interrogate her furtherfor fear of a too-unmistakable answer. If he were taking Daguenet asson-in-law as a gift from Nana it was chiefly with the hope of beingable to reduce Estelle's dower to two hundred thousand francs and ofthen being free to make any arrangements he chose about the remainderwith a young man who was still rejoicing in this unexpected match. 

Nevertheless, for the last week, under the immediate necessity offinding Labordette's hundred thousand francs, Muffat had been ableto hit on but one expedient, from which he recoiled. This was that heshould sell the Bordes, a magnificent property valued at half a million, which an uncle had recently left the countess. However, her signaturewas necessary, and she herself, according to the terms of the deed, could not alienate the property without the count's authorization. The day before he had indeed resolved to talk to his wife about thissignature. And now everything was ruined; at such a moment he wouldnever accept of such a compromise. This reflection added bitterness tothe frightful disgrace of the adultery. He fully understood what Nanawas asking for, since in that ever-growing self-abandonment whichprompted him to put her in possession of all his secrets, he hadcomplained to her of his position and had confided to her the tiresomedifficulty he was in with regard to the signature of the countess. 

Nana, however, did not seem to insist. She did not open her eyes again, and, seeing her so pale, he grew frightened and made her inhale a littleether. She gave a sigh and without mentioning Daguenet asked him somequestions. 

"When is the marriage?"

"We sign the contract on Tuesday, in five days' time, " he replied. 

Then still keeping her eyelids closed, as though she were speaking fromthe darkness and silence of her brain:

"Well then, pet, see to what you've got to do. As far as I'm concerned, I want everybody to be happy and comfortable. "

He took her hand and soothed her. Yes, he would see about it; theimportant thing now was for her to rest. And the revolt within himceased, for this warm and slumberous sickroom, with its all-pervadingscent of ether, had ended by lulling him into a mere longing forhappiness and peace. All his manhood, erewhile maddened by wrong, had departed out of him in the neighborhood of that warm bed and thatsuffering woman, whom he was nursing under the influence of her feverishheat and of remembered delights. He leaned over her and pressed her ina close embrace, while despite her unmoved features her lips wore adelicate, victorious smile. But Dr Boutarel made his appearance. 

"Well, and how's this dear child?" he said familiarly to Muffat, whom hetreated as her husband. "The deuce, but we've made her talk!"

The doctor was a good-looking man and still young. He had a superbpractice among the gay world, and being very merry by nature and readyto laugh and joke in the friendliest way with the demimonde ladies withwhom, however, he never went farther, he charged very high fees and gotthem paid with the greatest punctuality. Moreover, he would put himselfout to visit them on the most trivial occasions, and Nana, who wasalways trembling at the fear of death, would send and fetch him two orthree times a week and would anxiously confide to him little infantileills which he would cure to an accompaniment of amusing gossip andharebrained anecdotes. The ladies all adored him. But this time thelittle ill was serious. 

Muffat withdrew, deeply moved. Seeing his poor Nana so very weak, hissole feeling was now one of tenderness. As he was leaving the room shemotioned him back and gave him her forehead to kiss. In a low voice andwith a playfully threatening look she said:

"You know what I've allowed you to do. Go back to your wife, or it's allover and I shall grow angry!"

The Countess Sabine had been anxious that her daughter's weddingcontract should be signed on a Tuesday in order that the renovatedhouse, where the paint was still scarcely dry, might be reopened with agrand entertainment. Five hundred invitations had been issued to peoplein all kinds of sets. On the morning of the great day the upholstererswere still nailing up hangings, and toward nine at night, just when thelusters were going to be lit, the architect, accompanied by the eagerand interested countess, was given his final orders. 

It was one of those spring festivities which have a delicate charmof their own. Owing to the warmth of the June nights, it had becomepossible to open the two doors of the great drawing room and to extendthe dancing floor to the sanded paths of the garden. When the firstguests arrived and were welcomed at the door by the count and thecountess they were positively dazzled. One had only to recall to mindthe drawing room of the past, through which flitted the icy, ghostlypresence of the Countess Muffat, that antique room full of an atmosphereof religious austerity with its massive First Empire mahogany furniture, its yellow velvet hangings, its moldy ceiling through which the damp hadsoaked. Now from the very threshold of the entrance hall mosaics set offwith gold were glittering under the lights of lofty candelabras, while the marble staircase unfurled, as it were, a delicately chiseledbalustrade. Then, too, the drawing room looked splendid; it was hungwith Genoa velvet, and a huge decorative design by Boucher covered theceiling, a design for which the architect had paid a hundred thousandfrancs at the sale of the Chateau de Dampierre. The lusters and thecrystal ornaments lit up a luxurious display of mirrors and preciousfurniture. It seemed as though Sabine's long chair, that solitary redsilk chair, whose soft contours were so marked in the old days, hadgrown and spread till it filled the whole great house with voluptuousidleness and a sense of tense enjoyment not less fierce and hot than afire which has been long in burning up. 

People were already dancing. The band, which had been located in thegarden, in front of one of the open windows, was playing a waltz, the supple rhythm of which came softly into the house through theintervening night air. And the garden seemed to spread away and away, bathed in transparent shadow and lit by Venetian lamps, while in apurple tent pitched on the edge of a lawn a table for refreshmentshad been established. The waltz, which was none other than the quaint, vulgar one in the Blonde Venus, with its laughing, blackguard lilt, penetrated the old hotel with sonorous waves of sound and sent afeverish thrill along its walls. It was as though some fleshly windhad come up out of the common street and were sweeping the relics of avanished epoch out of the proud old dwelling, bearing away the Muffats'past, the age of honor and religious faith which had long slumberedbeneath the lofty ceilings. 

Meanwhile near the hearth, in their accustomed places, the old friendsof the count's mother were taking refuge. They felt out of theirelement--they were dazzled and they formed a little group amid theslowly invading mob. Mme du Joncquoy, unable to recognize the variousrooms, had come in through the dining saloon. Mme Chantereau was gazingwith a stupefied expression at the garden, which struck her as immense. Presently there was a sound of low voices, and the corner gave vent toall sorts of bitter reflections. 

"I declare, " murmured Mme Chantereau, "just fancy if the countess wereto return to life. Why, can you not imagine her coming in among allthese crowds of people! And then there's all this gilding and thisuproar! It's scandalous!"

"Sabine's out of her senses, " replied Mme du Joncquoy. "Did you see herat the door? Look, you can catch sight of her here; she's wearing allher diamonds. "

For a moment or two they stood up in order to take a distant view of thecount and countess. Sabine was in a white dress trimmed with marvelousEnglish point lace. She was triumphant in beauty; she looked youngand gay, and there was a touch of intoxication in her continual smile. Beside her stood Muffat, looking aged and a little pale, but he, too, was smiling in his calm and worthy fashion. 

"And just to think that he was once master, " continued Mme Chantereau, "and that not a single rout seat would have come in without hispermission! Ah well, she's changed all that; it's her house now. D'youremember when she did not want to do her drawing room up again? She'sdone up the entire house. "

But the ladies grew silent, for Mme de Chezelles was entering theroom, followed by a band of young men. She was going into ecstasies andmarking her approval with a succession of little exclamations. 

"Oh, it's delicious, exquisite! What taste!" And she shouted back to herfollowers:

"Didn't I say so? There's nothing equal to these old places when onetakes them in hand. They become dazzling! It's quite in the grandseventeenth-century style. Well, NOW she can receive. "

The two old ladies had again sat down and with lowered tones begantalking about the marriage, which was causing astonishment to a goodmany people. Estelle had just passed by them. She was in a pink silkgown and was as pale, flat, silent and virginal as ever. She hadaccepted Daguenet very quietly and now evinced neither joy nor sadness, for she was still as cold and white as on those winter evenings when sheused to put logs on the fire. This whole fete given in her honor, theselights and flowers and tunes, left her quite unmoved. 

"An adventurer, " Mme du Joncquoy was saying. "For my part, I've neverseen him. "

"Take care, here he is, " whispered Mme Chantereau. 

Daguenet, who had caught sight of Mme Hugon and her sons, had eagerlyoffered her his arm. He laughed and was effusively affectionate towardher, as though she had had a hand in his sudden good fortune. 

"Thank you, " she said, sitting down near the fireplace. "You see, it'smy old corner. "

"You know him?" queried Mme du Joncquoy, when Daguenet had gone. "Certainly I do--a charming young man. Georges is very fond of him. Oh, they're a most respected family. "

And the good lady defended him against the mute hostility which wasapparent to her. His father, held in high esteem by Louis Philippe, hadbeen a PREFET up to the time of his death. The son had been a littledissipated, perhaps; they said he was ruined, but in any case, oneof his uncles, who was a great landowner, was bound to leave him hisfortune. The ladies, however, shook their heads, while Mme Hugon, herself somewhat embarrassed, kept harking back to the extremerespectability of his family. She was very much fatigued and complainedof her feet. For some months she had been occupying her house in the RueRichelieu, having, as she said, a whole lot of things on hand. A look ofsorrow overshadowed her smiling, motherly face. 

"Never mind, " Mme Chantereau concluded. "Estelle could have aimed atsomething much better. "

There was a flourish. A quadrille was about to begin, and the crowdflowed back to the sides of the drawing room in order to leave the floorclear. Bright dresses flitted by and mingled together amid the darkevening coats, while the intense light set jewels flashing and whiteplumes quivering and lilacs and roses gleaming and flowering amid thesea of many heads. It was already very warm, and a penetrating perfumewas exhaled from light tulles and crumpled silks and satins, from whichbare shoulders glimmered white, while the orchestra played its livelyairs. Through open doors ranges of seated ladies were visible in thebackground of adjoining rooms; they flashed a discreet smile; their eyesglowed, and they made pretty mouths as the breath of their fans caressedtheir faces. And guests still kept arriving, and a footman announcedtheir names while gentlemen advanced slowly amid the surrounding groups, striving to find places for ladies, who hung with difficulty on theirarms, and stretching forward in quest of some far-off vacant armchair. The house kept filling, and crinolined skirts got jammed together witha little rustling sound. There were corners where an amalgam of laces, bunches and puffs would completely bar the way, while all the otherladies stood waiting, politely resigned and imperturbably graceful, as became people who were made to take part in these dazzling crushes. Meanwhile across the garden couples, who had been glad to escape fromthe close air of the great drawing room, were wandering away under theroseate gleam of the Venetian lamps, and shadowy dresses kept flittingalong the edge of the lawn, as though in rhythmic time to the music ofthe quadrille, which sounded sweet and distant behind the trees. 

Steiner had just met with Foucarmont and La Faloise, who were drinking aglass of champagne in front of the buffet. 

"It's beastly smart, " said La Faloise as he took a survey of the purpletent, which was supported by gilded lances. "You might fancy yourself atthe Gingerbread Fair. That's it--the Gingerbread Fair!"

In these days he continually affected a bantering tone, posing as theyoung man who has abused every mortal thing and now finds nothing worthtaking seriously. 

"How surprised poor Vandeuvres would be if he were to come back, "murmured Foucarmont. "You remember how he simply nearly died of boredomin front of the fire in there. Egad, it was no laughing matter. "

"Vandeuvres--oh, let him be. He's a gone coon!" La Faloise disdainfullyrejoined. "He jolly well choused himself, he did, if he thought he couldmake us sit up with his roast-meat story! Not a soul mentions it now. Blotted out, done for, buried--that's what's the matter with Vandeuvres!Here's to the next man!"

Then as Steiner shook hands with him:

"You know Nana's just arrived. Oh, my boys, it was a state entry. It wastoo brilliant for anything! First of all she kissed the countess. Then when the children came up she gave them her blessing and said toDaguenet, 'Listen, Paul, if you go running after the girls you'll haveto answer for it to me. ' What, d'you mean to say you didn't see that?Oh, it WAS smart. A success, if you like!"

The other two listened to him, openmouthed, and at last burst outlaughing. He was enchanted and thought himself in his best vein. 

"You thought it had really happened, eh? Confound it, since Nana's madethe match! Anyway, she's one of the family. "

The young Hugons were passing, and Philippe silenced him. And with thatthey chatted about the marriage from the male point of view. Georges wasvexed with La Faloise for telling an anecdote. Certainly Nana had fubbedoff on Muffat one of her old flames as son-in-law; only it was nottrue that she had been to bed with Daguenet as lately as yesterday. Foucarmont made bold to shrug his shoulders. Could anyone ever tell whenNana was in bed with anyone? But Georges grew excited and answered withan "I can tell, sir!" which set them all laughing. In a word, as Steinerput it, it was all a very funny kettle of fish!

The buffet was gradually invaded by the crowd, and, still keepingtogether, they vacated their positions there. La Faloise stared brazenlyat the women as though he believed himself to be Mabille. At the endof a garden walk the little band was surprised to find M. Venot busilyconferring with Daguenet, and with that they indulged in some facilepleasantries which made them very merry. He was confessing him, givinghim advice about the bridal night! Presently they returned in frontof one of the drawing-room doors, within which a polka was sending thecouples whirling to and fro till they seemed to leave a wake behind themamong the crowd of men who remained standing about. In the slight puffsof air which came from outside the tapers flared up brilliantly, andwhen a dress floated by in time to the rat-tat of the measure, a littlegust of wind cooled the sparkling heat which streamed down from thelusters. 

"Egad, they're not cold in there!" muttered La Faloise. 

They blinked after emerging from the mysterious shadows of the garden. Then they pointed out to one another the Marquis de Chouard where hestood apart, his tall figure towering over the bare shoulders whichsurrounded him. His face was pale and very stern, and beneath its crownof scant white hair it wore an expression of lofty dignity. Scandalizedby Count Muffat's conduct, he had publicly broken off all intercoursewith him and was by way of never again setting foot in the house. If hehad consented to put in an appearance that evening it was because hisgranddaughter had begged him to. But he disapproved of her marriageand had inveighed indignantly against the way in which the governmentclasses were being disorganized by the shameful compromises engenderedby modern debauchery. 

"Ah, it's the end of all things, " Mme du Joncquoy whispered in MmeChantereau's ear as she sat near the fireplace. "That bad woman hasbewitched the unfortunate man. And to think we once knew him such a truebeliever, such a noblehearted gentleman!"

"It appears he is ruining himself, " continued Mme Chantereau. "Myhusband has had a bill of his in his hands. At present he's living inthat house in the Avenue de Villiers; all Paris is talking about it. Good heavens! I don't make excuses for Sabine, but you must admit thathe gives her infinite cause of complaint, and, dear me, if she throwsmoney out of the window, too--"

"She does not only throw money, " interrupted the other. "In fact, between them, there's no knowing where they'll stop; they'll end in themire, my dear. "

But just then a soft voice interrupted them. It was M. Venot, and he hadcome and seated himself behind them, as though anxious to disappear fromview. Bending forward, he murmured:

"Why despair? God manifests Himself when all seems lost. "

He was assisting peacefully at the downfall of the house which heerewhile governed. Since his stay at Les Fondettes he had been allowingthe madness to increase, for he was very clearly aware of his ownpowerlessness. He had, indeed, accepted the whole position--the count'swild passion for Nana, Fauchery's presence, even Estelle's marriage withDaguenet. What did these things matter? He even became more supple andmysterious, for he nursed a hope of being able to gain the same masteryover the young as over the disunited couple, and he knew that greatdisorders lead to great conversions. Providence would have itsopportunity. 

"Our friend, " he continued in a low voice, "is always animated by thebest religious sentiments. He has given me the sweetest proofs of this. "

"Well, " said Mme du Joncquoy, "he ought first to have made it up withhis wife. "

"Doubtless. At this moment I have hopes that the reconciliation will beshortly effected. "

Whereupon the two old ladies questioned him. 

But he grew very humble again. "Heaven, " he said, "must be left to act. "His whole desire in bringing the count and the countess together againwas to avoid a public scandal, for religion tolerated many faults whenthe proprieties were respected. 

"In fact, " resumed Mme du Joncquoy, "you ought to have prevented thisunion with an adventurer. "

The little old gentleman assumed an expression of profound astonishment. "You deceive yourself. Monsieur Daguenet is a young man of the greatestmerit. I am acquainted with his thoughts; he is anxious to live down theerrors of his youth. Estelle will bring him back to the path of virtue, be sure of that. "

"Oh, Estelle!" Mme Chantereau murmured disdainfully. "I believe thedear young thing to be incapable of willing anything; she is soinsignificant!"

This opinion caused M. Venot to smile. However, he went into noexplanations about the young bride and, shutting his eyes, as though toavoid seeming to take any further interest in the matter, he once morelost himself in his corner behind the petticoats. Mme Hugon, thoughweary and absent-minded, had caught some phrases of the conversation, and she now intervened and summed up in her tolerant way by remarking tothe Marquis de Chouard, who just then bowed to her:

"These ladies are too severe. Existence is so bitter for every one ofus! Ought we not to forgive others much, my friend, if we wish to meritforgiveness ourselves?"

For some seconds the marquis appeared embarrassed, for he was afraidof allusions. But the good lady wore so sad a smile that he recoveredalmost at once and remarked:

"No, there is no forgiveness for certain faults. It is by reason ofthis kind of accommodating spirit that a society sinks into the abyss ofruin. "

The ball had grown still more animated. A fresh quadrille was impartinga slight swaying motion to the drawing-room floor, as though the olddwelling had been shaken by the impulse of the dance. Now and again amidthe wan confusion of heads a woman's face with shining eyes and partedlips stood sharply out as it was whirled away by the dance, the lightof the lusters gleaming on the white skin. Mme du Joncquoy declared thatthe present proceedings were senseless. It was madness to crowd fivehundred people into a room which would scarcely contain two hundred. Infact, why not sign the wedding contract on the Place du Carrousel? Thiswas the outcome of the new code of manners, said Mme Chantereau. In oldtimes these solemnities took place in the bosom of the family, but todayone must have a mob of people; the whole street must be allowed to enterquite freely, and there must be a great crush, or else the evening seemsa chilly affair. People now advertised their luxury and introducedthe mere foam on the wave of Parisian society into their houses, andaccordingly it was only too natural if illicit proceedings such as theyhad been discussing afterward polluted the hearth. The ladies complainedthat they could not recognize more than fifty people. Where did allthis crowd spring from? Young girls with low necks were making a greatdisplay of their shoulders. A woman had a golden dagger stuck in herchignon, while a bodice thickly embroidered with jet beads clothed herin what looked like a coat of mail. People's eyes kept following anotherlady smilingly, so singularly marked were her clinging skirts. All theluxuriant splendor of the departing winter was there--the overtolerantworld of pleasure, the scratch gathering a hostess can get togetherafter a first introduction, the sort of society, in fact, in whichgreat names and great shames jostle together in the same fierce quest ofenjoyment. The heat was increasing, and amid the overcrowded rooms thequadrille unrolled the cadenced symmetry of its figures. 

"Very smart--the countess!" La Faloise continued at the garden door. "She's ten years younger than her daughter. By the by, Foucarmont, youmust decide on a point. Vandeuvres once bet that she had no thighs. "

This affectation of cynicism bored the other gentlemen, and Foucarmontcontented himself by saying:

"Ask your cousin, dear boy. Here he is. "

"Jove, it's a happy thought!" cried La Faloise. "I bet ten louis she hasthighs. "

Fauchery did indeed come up. As became a constant inmate of the house, he had gone round by the dining room in order to avoid the crowdeddoors. Rose had taken him up again at the beginning of the winter, andhe was now dividing himself between the singer and the countess, but hewas extremely fatigued and did not know how to get rid of one of them. Sabine flattered his vanity, but Rose amused him more than she. Besides, the passion Rose felt was a real one: her tenderness for him was markedby a conjugal fidelity which drove Mignon to despair. 

"Listen, we want some information, " said La Faloise as he squeezed hiscousin's arm. "You see that lady in white silk?"

Ever since his inheritance had given him a kind of insolent dash ofmanner he had affected to chaff Fauchery, for he had an old grudge tosatisfy and wanted to be revenged for much bygone raillery, dating fromthe days when he was just fresh from his native province. 

"Yes, that lady with the lace. "

The journalist stood on tiptoe, for as yet he did not understand. 

"The countess?" he said at last. 

"Exactly, my good friend. I've bet ten louis--now, has she thighs?"

And he fell a-laughing, for he was delighted to have succeeded insnubbing a fellow who had once come heavily down on him for askingwhether the countess slept with anyone. But Fauchery, without showingthe very slightest astonishment, looked fixedly at him. 

"Get along, you idiot!" he said finally as he shrugged his shoulders. 

Then he shook hands with the other gentlemen, while La Faloise, in hisdiscomfiture, felt rather uncertain whether he had said something funny. The men chatted. Since the races the banker and Foucarmont had formedpart of the set in the Avenue de Villiers. Nana was going on muchbetter, and every evening the count came and asked how she did. Meanwhile Fauchery, though he listened, seemed preoccupied, for duringa quarrel that morning Rose had roundly confessed to the sending of theletter. Oh yes, he might present himself at his great lady's house;he would be well received! After long hesitation he had come despiteeverything--out of sheer courage. But La Faloise's imbecile pleasantryhad upset him in spite of his apparent tranquillity. 

"What's the matter?" asked Philippe. "You seem in trouble. "

"I do? Not at all. I've been working: that's why I came so late. "

Then coldly, in one of those heroic moods which, although unnoticed, arewont to solve the vulgar tragedies of existence:

"All the same, I haven't made my bow to our hosts. One must be civil. "

He even ventured on a joke, for he turned to La Faloise and said:

"Eh, you idiot?"

And with that he pushed his way through the crowd. The valet's fullvoice was no longer shouting out names, but close to the door the countand countess were still talking, for they were detained by ladies comingin. At length he joined them, while the gentlemen who were still onthe garden steps stood on tiptoe so as to watch the scene. Nana, theythought, must have been chattering. 

"The count hasn't noticed him, " muttered Georges. "Look out! He'sturning round; there, it's done!"

The band had again taken up the waltz in the Blonde Venus. Faucheryhad begun by bowing to the countess, who was still smiling in ecstaticserenity. After which he had stood motionless a moment, waiting verycalmly behind the count's back. That evening the count's deportment wasone of lofty gravity: he held his head high, as became the officialand the great dignitary. And when at last he lowered his gaze in thedirection of the journalist he seemed still further to emphasize themajesty of his attitude. For some seconds the two men looked at oneanother. It was Fauchery who first stretched out his hand. Muffat gavehim his. Their hands remained clasped, and the Countess Sabine withdowncast eyes stood smiling before them, while the waltz continuallybeat out its mocking, vagabond rhythm. 

"But the thing's going on wheels!" said Steiner. 

"Are their hands glued together?" asked Foucarmont, surprised at thisprolonged clasp. A memory he could not forget brought a faint glow toFanchery's pale cheeks, and in his mind's eye he saw the property roombathed in greenish twilight and filled with dusty bric-a-brac. AndMuffat was there, eggcup in hand, making a clever use of his suspicions. At this moment Muffat was no longer suspicious, and the last vestige ofhis dignity was crumbling in ruin. Fauchery's fears were assuaged, andwhen he saw the frank gaiety of the countess he was seized with a desireto laugh. The thing struck him as comic. 

"Aha, here she is at last!" cried La Faloise, who did not abandon a jestwhen he thought it a good one. "D'you see Nana coming in over there?"

"Hold your tongue, do, you idiot!" muttered Philippe. 

"But I tell you, it is Nana! They're playing her waltz for her, by Jove!She's making her entry. And she takes part in the reconciliation, thedevil she does! What? You don't see her? She's squeezing all three of'em to her heart--my cousin Fauchery, my lady cousin and her husband, and she's calling 'em her dear kitties. Oh, those family scenes give mea turn!"

Estelle had come up, and Fauchery complimented her while she stoodstiffly up in her rose-colored dress, gazing at him with the astonishedlook of a silent child and constantly glancing aside at her father andmother. Daguenet, too, exchanged a hearty shake of the hand with thejournalist. Together they made up a smiling group, while M. Venot camegliding in behind them. He gloated over them with a beatified expressionand seemed to envelop them in his pious sweetness, for he rejoiced inthese last instances of self-abandonment which were preparing the meansof grace. 

But the waltz still beat out its swinging, laughing, voluptuous measure;it was like a shrill continuation of the life of pleasure which wasbeating against the old house like a rising tide. The band blew loudertrills from their little flutes; their violins sent forth more swooningnotes. Beneath the Genoa velvet hangings, the gilding and the paintings, the lusters exhaled a living heat and a great glow of sunlight, whilethe crowd of guests, multiplied in the surrounding mirrors, seemed togrow and increase as the murmur of many voices rose ever louder. Thecouples who whirled round the drawing room, arm about waist, amid thesmiles of the seated ladies, still further accentuated the quaking ofthe floors. In the garden a dull, fiery glow fell from the Venetianlanterns and threw a distant reflection of flame over the dark shadowsmoving in search of a breath of air about the walks at its farther end. And this trembling of walls and this red glow of light seemed to betokena great ultimate conflagration in which the fabric of an ancient honorwas cracking and burning on every side. The shy early beginningsof gaiety, of which Fauchery one April evening had heard the vocalexpression in the sound of breaking glass, had little by little grownbolder, wilder, till they had burst forth in this festival. Now therift was growing; it was crannying the house and announcing approachingdownfall. Among drunkards in the slums it is black misery, an emptycupboard, which put an end to ruined families; it is the madness ofdrink which empties the wretched beds. Here the waltz tune was soundingthe knell of an old race amid the suddenly ignited ruins of accumulatedwealth, while Nana, although unseen, stretched her lithe limbs above thedancers' heads and sent corruption through their caste, drenching thehot air with the ferment of her exhalations and the vagabond lilt of themusic. 

On the evening after the celebration of the church marriage Count Muffatmade his appearance in his wife's bedroom, where he had not entered forthe last two years. At first, in her great surprise, the countess drewback from him. But she was still smiling the intoxicated smile which shenow always wore. He began stammering in extreme embarrassment; whereuponshe gave him a short moral lecture. However, neither of them risked adecisive explanation. It was religion, they pretended, which requiredthis process of mutual forgiveness, and they agreed by a tacitunderstanding to retain their freedom. Before going to bed, seeingthat the countess still appeared to hesitate, they had a businessconversation, and the count was the first to speak of selling theBordes. She consented at once. They both stood in great want of money, and they would share and share alike. This completed the reconciliation, and Muffat, remorseful though he was, felt veritably relieved. 

That very day, as Nana was dozing toward two in the afternoon, Zoe madeso bold as to knock at her bedroom door. The curtains were drawn to, and a hot breath of wind kept blowing through a window into the freshtwilight stillness within. During these last days the young woman hadbeen getting up and about again, but she was still somewhat weak. Sheopened her eyes and asked:

"Who is it?"

Zoe was about to reply, but Daguenet pushed by her and announcedhimself in person. Nana forthwith propped herself up on her pillow and, dismissing the lady's maid:

"What! Is that you?" she cried. "On the day of your marriage? What canbe the matter?"

Taken aback by the darkness, he stood still in the middle of the room. However, he grew used to it and came forward at last. He was in eveningdress and wore a white cravat and gloves. 

"Yes, to be sure, it's me!" he said. "You don't remember?"

No, she remembered nothing, and in his chaffing way he had to offerhimself frankly to her. 

"Come now, here's your commission. I've brought you the handsel of myinnocence!"

And with that, as he was now by the bedside, she caught him in her barearms and shook with merry laughter and almost cried, she thought it sopretty of him. 

"Oh, that Mimi, how funny he is! He's thought of it after all! And tothink I didn't remember it any longer! So you've slipped off; you'rejust out of church. Yes, certainly, you've got a scent of incense aboutyou. But kiss me, kiss me! Oh, harder than that, Mimi dear! Bah! Perhapsit's for the last time. "

In the dim room, where a vague odor of ether still lingered, theirtender laughter died away suddenly. The heavy, warm breeze swelledthe window curtains, and children's voices were audible in the avenuewithout. Then the lateness of the hour tore them asunder and set themjoking again. Daguenet took his departure with his wife directly afterthe breakfast. 

CHAPTER XIII

Toward the end of September Count Muffat, who was to dine at Nana's thatevening, came at nightfall to inform her of a summons to the Tuileries. The lamps in the house had not been lit yet, and the servants werelaughing uproariously in the kitchen regions as he softly mounted thestairs, where the tall windows gleamed in warm shadow. The door of thedrawing room up-stairs opened noiselessly. A faint pink glow was dyingout on the ceiling of the room, and the red hangings, the deep divans, the lacquered furniture, with their medley of embroidered fabrics andbronzes and china, were already sleeping under a slowly creeping floodof shadows, which drowned nooks and corners and blotted out the gleamof ivory and the glint of gold. And there in the darkness, on the whitesurface of a wide, outspread petticoat, which alone remained clearlyvisible, he saw Nana lying stretched in the arms of Georges. Denial inany shape or form was impossible. He gave a choking cry and stood gapingat them. 

Nana had bounded up, and now she pushed him into the bedroom in order togive the lad time to escape. 

"Come in, " she murmured with reeling senses, "I'll explain. "

She was exasperated at being thus surprised. Never before had she givenway like this in her own house, in her own drawing room, when the doorswere open. It was a long story: Georges and she had had a disagreement;he had been mad with jealousy of Philippe, and he had sobbed so bitterlyon her bosom that she had yielded to him, not knowing how else to calmhim and really very full of pity for him at heart. And on this solitaryoccasion, when she had been stupid enough to forget herself thus with alittle rascal who could not even now bring her bouquets of violets, so short did his mother keep him--on this solitary occasion the countturned up and came straight down on them. 'Gad, she had very bad luck!That was what one got if one was a good-natured wench!

Meanwhile in the bedroom, into which she had pushed Muffat, the darknesswas complete. Whereupon after some groping she rang furiously and askedfor a lamp. It was Julien's fault too! If there had been a lamp in thedrawing room the whole affair would not have happened. It was the stupidnightfall which had got the better of her heart. 

"I beseech you to be reasonable, my pet, " she said when Zoe had broughtin the lights. 

The count, with his hands on his knees, was sitting gazing at the floor. He was stupefied by what he had just seen. He did not cry out in anger. He only trembled, as though overtaken by some horror which was freezinghim. This dumb misery touched the young woman, and she tried to comforthim. 

"Well, yes, I've done wrong. It's very bad what I did. You see I'm sorryfor my fault. It makes me grieve very much because it annoys you. Comenow, be nice, too, and forgive me. "

She had crouched down at his feet and was striving to catch his eye witha look of tender submission. She was fain to know whether he was veryvexed with her. Presently, as he gave a long sigh and seemed to recoverhimself, she grew more coaxing and with grave kindness of manner added afinal reason:

"You see, dearie, you must try and understand how it is: I can't refuseit to my poor friends. "

The count consented to give way and only insisted that Georges shouldbe dismissed once for all. But all his illusions had vanished, and he nolonger believed in her sworn fidelity. Next day Nana would deceive himanew, and he only remained her miserable possessor in obedience to acowardly necessity and to terror at the thought of living without her. 

This was the epoch in her existence when Nana flared upon Paris withredoubled splendor. She loomed larger than heretofore on the horizon ofvice and swayed the town with her impudently flaunted splendor and thatcontempt of money which made her openly squander fortunes. Her house hadbecome a sort of glowing smithy, where her continual desires were theflames and the slightest breath from her lips changed gold into fineashes, which the wind hourly swept away. Never had eye beheld such arage of expenditure. The great house seemed to have been built over agulf in which men--their worldly possessions, their fortunes, their verynames--were swallowed up without leaving even a handful of dust behindthem. This courtesan, who had the tastes of a parrot and gobbled upradishes and burnt almonds and pecked at the meat upon her plate, hadmonthly table bills amounting to five thousand francs. The wildest wastewent on in the kitchen: the place, metaphorically speaking was one greatriver which stove in cask upon cask of wine and swept great bills withit, swollen by three or four successive manipulators. Victorine andFrancois reigned supreme in the kitchen, whither they invited friends. In addition to these there was quite a little tribe of cousins, who werecockered up in their homes with cold meats and strong soup. Julien madethe trades-people give him commissions, and the glaziers never put upa pane of glass at a cost of a franc and a half but he had a francput down to himself. Charles devoured the horses' oats and doubled theamount of their provender, reselling at the back door what came in atthe carriage gate, while amid the general pillage, the sack of thetown after the storm, Zoe, by dint of cleverness, succeeded in savingappearances and covering the thefts of all in order the better to slurover and make good her own. But the household waste was worse than thehousehold dishonesty. Yesterday's food was thrown into the gutter, andthe collection of provisions in the house was such that the servantsgrew disgusted with it. The glass was all sticky with sugar, and the gasburners flared and flared till the rooms seemed ready to explode. Then, too, there were instances of negligence and mischief and sheeraccident--of everything, in fact, which can hasten the ruin of a housedevoured by so many mouths. Upstairs in Madame's quarters destructionraged more fiercely still. Dresses, which cost ten thousand francs andhad been twice worn, were sold by Zoe; jewels vanished as though theyhad crumbled deep down in their drawers; stupid purchases were made;every novelty of the day was brought and left to lie forgotten in somecorner the morning after or swept up by ragpickers in the street. Shecould not see any very expensive object without wanting to possess it, and so she constantly surrounded herself with the wrecks of bouquets andcostly knickknacks and was the happier the more her passing fancy cost. Nothing remained intact in her hands; she broke everything, and thisobject withered, and that grew dirty in the clasp of her lithe whitefingers. A perfect heap of nameless debris, of twisted shreds andmuddy rags, followed her and marked her passage. Then amid this uttersquandering of pocket money cropped up a question about the big billsand their settlement. Twenty thousand francs were due to the modiste, thirty thousand to the linen draper, twelve thousand to the bootmaker. Her stable devoured fifty thousand for her, and in six months she ranup a bill of a hundred and twenty thousand francs at her ladies' tailor. Though she had not enlarged her scheme of expenditure, which Labordettereckoned at four hundred thousand francs on an average, she ran up thatsame year to a million. She was herself stupefied by the amount and wasunable to tell whither such a sum could have gone. Heaps upon heaps ofmen, barrowfuls of gold, failed to stop up the hole, which, amid thisruinous luxury, continually gaped under the floor of her house. 

Meanwhile Nana had cherished her latest caprice. Once more exercisedby the notion that her room needed redoing, she fancied she had hit onsomething at last. The room should be done in velvet of the color of tearoses, with silver buttons and golden cords, tassels and fringes, andthe hangings should be caught up to the ceiling after the manner of atent. This arrangement ought to be both rich and tender, she thought, and would form a splendid background to her blonde vermeil-tinted skin. However, the bedroom was only designed to serve as a setting to the bed, which was to be a dazzling affair, a prodigy. Nana meditated a bed suchas had never before existed; it was to be a throne, an altar, whitherParis was to come in order to adore her sovereign nudity. It was to beall in gold and silver beaten work--it should suggest a great piece ofjewelry with its golden roses climbing on a trelliswork of silver. Onthe headboard a band of Loves should peep forth laughing from amid theflowers, as though they were watching the voluptuous dalliance withinthe shadow of the bed curtains. Nana had applied to Labordette whohad brought two goldsmiths to see her. They were already busy with thedesigns. The bed would cost fifty thousand francs, and Muffat was togive it her as a New Year's present. 

What most astonished the young woman was that she was endlessly short ofmoney amid a river of gold, the tide of which almost enveloped her. Oncertain days she was at her wit's end for want of ridiculously smallsums--sums of only a few louis. She was driven to borrow from Zoe, orshe scraped up cash as well as she could on her own account. But beforeresignedly adopting extreme measures she tried her friends and in ajoking sort of way got the men to give her all they had about them, evendown to their coppers. For the last three months she had been emptyingPhilippe's pockets especially, and now on days of passionate enjoymenthe never came away but he left his purse behind him. Soon she grewbolder and asked him for loans of two hundred francs, three hundredfrancs--never more than that--wherewith to pay the interest of billsor to stave off outrageous debts. And Philippe, who in July had beenappointed paymaster to his regiment, would bring the money the dayafter, apologizing at the same time for not being rich, seeing that goodMamma Hugon now treated her sons with singular financial severity. Atthe close of three months these little oft-renewed loans mounted up toa sum of ten thousand francs. The captain still laughed hishearty-sounding laugh, but he was growing visibly thinner, and sometimeshe seemed absent-minded, and a shade of suffering would pass over hisface. But one look from Nana's eyes would transfigure him in a sortof sensual ecstasy. She had a very coaxing way with him and wouldintoxicate him with furtive kisses and yield herself to him in suddenfits of self-abandonment, which tied him to her apron strings the momenthe was able to escape from his military duties. 

One evening, Nana having announced that her name, too, was Therese andthat her fete day was the fifteenth of October, the gentlemen all senther presents. Captain Philippe brought his himself; it was an old comfitdish in Dresden china, and it had a gold mount. He found her alone inher dressing room. She had just emerged from the bath, had nothingon save a great red-and-white flannel bathing wrap and was very busyexamining her presents, which were ranged on a table. She had alreadybroken a rock-crystal flask in her attempts to unstopper it. 

"Oh, you're too nice!" she said. "What is it? Let's have a peep! What ababy you are to spend your pennies in little fakements like that!"

She scolded him, seeing that he was not rich, but at heart she wasdelighted to see him spending his whole substance for her. Indeed, thiswas the only proof of love which had power to touch her. Meanwhile shewas fiddling away at the comfit dish, opening it and shutting it in herdesire to see how it was made. 

"Take care, " he murmured, "it's brittle. "

But she shrugged her shoulders. Did he think her as clumsy as a streetporter? And all of a sudden the hinge came off between her fingers andthe lid fell and was broken. She was stupefied and remained gazing atthe fragments as she cried:

"Oh, it's smashed!"

Then she burst out laughing. The fragments lying on the floor tickledher fancy. Her merriment was of the nervous kind, the stupid, spitefullaughter of a child who delights in destruction. Philippe had a littlefit of disgust, for the wretched girl did not know what anguish thiscurio had cost him. Seeing him thoroughly upset, she tried to containherself. 

"Gracious me, it isn't my fault! It was cracked; those old things barelyhold together. Besides, it was the cover! Didn't you see the bound itgave?"

And she once more burst into uproarious mirth. 

But though he made an effort to the contrary, tears appeared in theyoung man's eyes, and with that she flung her arms tenderly round hisneck. 

"How silly you are! You know I love you all the same. If one neverbroke anything the tradesmen would never sell anything. All that sort ofthing's made to be broken. Now look at this fan; it's only held togetherwith glue!"

She had snatched up a fan and was dragging at the blades so that thesilk was torn in two. This seemed to excite her, and in order to showthat she scorned the other presents, the moment she had ruined his shetreated herself to a general massacre, rapping each successive objectand proving clearly that not one was solid in that she had broken themall. There was a lurid glow in her vacant eyes, and her lips, slightlydrawn back, displayed her white teeth. Soon, when everything was infragments, she laughed cheerily again and with flushed cheeks beat onthe table with the flat of her hands, lisping like a naughty littlegirl:

"All over! Got no more! Got no more!"

Then Philippe was overcome by the same mad excitement, and, pushingher down, he merrily kissed her bosom. She abandoned herself to himand clung to his shoulders with such gleeful energy that she could notremember having enjoyed herself so much for an age past. Without lettinggo of him she said caressingly:

"I say, dearie, you ought certainly to bring me ten louis tomorrow. It'sa bore, but there's the baker's bill worrying me awfully. "

He had grown pale. Then imprinting a final kiss on her forehead, he saidsimply:

"I'll try. "

Silence reigned. She was dressing, and he stood pressing his foreheadagainst the windowpanes. A minute passed, and he returned to her anddeliberately continued:

"Nana, you ought to marry me. "

This notion straightway so tickled the young woman that she was unableto finish tying on her petticoats. 

"My poor pet, you're ill! D'you offer me your hand because I ask you forten louis? No, never! I'm too fond of you. Good gracious, what a sillyquestion!"

And as Zoe entered in order to put her boots on, they ceased talking ofthe matter. The lady's maid at once espied the presents lying broken inpieces on the table. She asked if she should put these things away, and, Madame having bidden her get rid of them, she carried the wholecollection off in the folds of her dress. In the kitchen a sorting-outprocess began, and Madame's debris were shared among the servants. 

That day Georges had slipped into the house despite Nana's orders to thecontrary. Francois had certainly seen him pass, but the servants hadnow got to laugh among themselves at their good lady's embarrassingsituations. He had just slipped as far as the little drawing room whenhis brother's voice stopped him, and, as one powerless to tear himselffrom the door, he overheard everything that went on within, the kisses, the offer of marriage. A feeling of horror froze him, and he went awayin a state bordering on imbecility, feeling as though there were a greatvoid in his brain. It was only in his own room above his mother's flatin the Rue Richelieu that his heart broke in a storm of furious sobs. This time there could be no doubt about the state of things; a horriblepicture of Nana in Philippe's arms kept rising before his mind's eye. Itstruck him in the light of an incest. When he fancied himself calm againthe remembrance of it all would return, and in fresh access of ragingjealousy he would throw himself on the bed, biting the coverlet, shouting infamous accusations which maddened him the more. Thus the daypassed. In order to stay shut up in his room he spoke of having a sickheadache. But the night proved more terrible still; a murder fever shookhim amid continual nightmares. Had his brother lived in the house, he would have gone and killed him with the stab of a knife. When dayreturned he tried to reason things out. It was he who ought to die, andhe determined to throw himself out of the window when an omnibus waspassing. Nevertheless, he went out toward ten o'clock and traversedParis, wandered up and down on the bridges and at the last moment feltan unconquerable desire to see Nana once more. With one word, perhaps, she would save him. And three o'clock was striking when he entered thehouse in the Avenue de Villiers. 

Toward noon a frightful piece of news had simply crushed Mme Hugon. Philippe had been in prison since the evening of the previous day, accused of having stolen twelve thousand francs from the chest of hisregiment. For the last three months he had been withdrawing small sumstherefrom in the hope of being able to repay them, while he hadcovered the deficit with false money. Thanks to the negligence of theadministrative committee, this fraud had been constantly successful. Theold lady, humbled utterly by her child's crime, had at once cried outin anger against Nana. She knew Philippe's connection with her, and hermelancholy had been the result of this miserable state of things whichkept her in Paris in constant dread of some final catastrophe. Butshe had never looked forward to such shame as this, and now she blamedherself for refusing him money, as though such refusal had made heraccessory to his act. She sank down on an armchair; her legs were seizedwith paralysis, and she felt herself to be useless, incapable of actionand destined to stay where she was till she died. But the sudden thoughtof Georges comforted her. Georges was still left her; he would be ableto act, perhaps to save them. Thereupon, without seeking aid of anyoneelse--for she wished to keep these matters shrouded in the bosom of herfamily--she dragged herself up to the next story, her mind possessed bythe idea that she still had someone to love about her. But upstairs shefound an empty room. The porter told her that M. Georges had gone outat an early hour. The room was haunted by the ghost of yet anothercalamity; the bed with its gnawed bedclothes bore witness to someone'sanguish, and a chair which lay amid a heap of clothes on the groundlooked like something dead. Georges must be at that woman's house, andso with dry eyes and feet that had regained their strength Mme Hugonwent downstairs. She wanted her sons; she was starting to reclaim them. 

Since morning Nana had been much worried. First of all it was the baker, who at nine o'clock had turned up, bill in hand. It was a wretchedstory. He had supplied her with bread to the amount of a hundred andthirty-three francs, and despite her royal housekeeping she could notpay it. In his irritation at being put off he had presented himselfa score of times since the day he had refused further credit, and theservants were now espousing his cause. Francois kept saying that Madamewould never pay him unless he made a fine scene; Charles talked of goingupstairs, too, in order to get an old unpaid straw bill settled, whileVictorine advised them to wait till some gentleman was with her, whenthey would get the money out of her by suddenly asking for it in themiddle of conversation. The kitchen was in a savage mood: the tradesmenwere all kept posted in the course events were taking, and there weregossiping consultations, lasting three or four hours on a stretch, during which Madame was stripped, plucked and talked over with thewrathful eagerness peculiar to an idle, overprosperous servants' hall. Julien, the house steward, alone pretended to defend his mistress. She was quite the thing, whatever they might say! And when the othersaccused him of sleeping with her he laughed fatuously, thereby drivingthe cook to distraction, for she would have liked to be a man inorder to "spit on such women's backsides, " so utterly would they havedisgusted her. Francois, without informing Madame of it, had wickedlyposted the baker in the hall, and when she came downstairs at lunch timeshe found herself face to face with him. Taking the bill, she told himto return toward three o'clock, whereupon, with many foul expressions, he departed, vowing that he would have things properly settled and gethis money by hook or by crook. 

Nana made a very bad lunch, for the scene had annoyed her. Next time theman would have to be definitely got rid of. A dozen times she had puthis money aside for him, but it had as constantly melted away, sometimesin the purchase of flowers, at others in the shape of a subscriptiongot up for the benefit of an old gendarme. Besides, she was counting onPhilippe and was astonished not to see him make his appearance with histwo hundred francs. It was regular bad luck, seeing that the day beforeyesterday she had again given Satin an outfit, a perfect trousseau thistime, some twelve hundred francs' worth of dresses and linen, and nowshe had not a louis remaining. 

Toward two o'clock, when Nana was beginning to be anxious, Labordettepresented himself. He brought with him the designs for the bed, and thiscaused a diversion, a joyful interlude which made the young woman forgetall her troubles. She clapped her hands and danced about. After which, her heart bursting wish curiosity, she leaned over a table in thedrawing room and examined the designs, which Labordette proceeded toexplain to her. 

"You see, " he said, "this is the body of the bed. In the middle herethere's a bunch of roses in full bloom, and then comes a garland of budsand flowers. The leaves are to be in yellow and the roses in red-gold. And here's the grand design for the bed's head; Cupids dancing in a ringon a silver trelliswork. "

But Nana interrupted him, for she was beside herself with ecstasy. 

"Oh, how funny that little one is, that one in the corner, with hisbehind in the air! Isn't he now? And what a sly laugh! They've all gotsuch dirty, wicked eyes! You know, dear boy, I shall never dare play anysilly tricks before THEM!"

Her pride was flattered beyond measure. The goldsmiths had declared thatno queen anywhere slept in such a bed. However, a difficulty presenteditself. Labordette showed her two designs for the footboard, one ofwhich reproduced the pattern on the sides, while the other, a subject byitself, represented Night wrapped in her veil and discovered by a faunin all her splendid nudity. He added that if she chose this last subjectthe goldsmiths intended making Night in her own likeness. This idea, thetaste of which was rather risky, made her grow white with pleasure, and she pictured herself as a silver statuette, symbolic of the warm, voluptuous delights of darkness. 

"Of course you will only sit for the head and shoulders, " saidLabordette. 

She looked quietly at him. 

"Why? The moment a work of art's in question I don't mind the sculptorthat takes my likeness a blooming bit!"

Of course it must be understood that she was choosing the subject. Butat this he interposed. 

"Wait a moment; it's six thousand francs extra. "

"It's all the same to me, by Jove!" she cried, bursting into a laugh. "Hasn't my little rough got the rhino?"

Nowadays among her intimates she always spoke thus of Count Muffat, andthe gentlemen had ceased to inquire after him otherwise. 

"Did you see your little rough last night?" they used to say. 

"Dear me, I expected to find the little rough here!"

It was a simple familiarity enough, which, nevertheless, she did not asyet venture on in his presence. 

Labordette began rolling up the designs as he gave the finalexplanations. The goldsmiths, he said, were undertaking to deliver thebed in two months' time, toward the twenty-fifth of December, andnext week a sculptor would come to make a model for the Night. Asshe accompanied him to the door Nana remembered the baker and brisklyinquired:

"By the by, you wouldn't be having ten louis about you?"

Labordette made it a solemn rule, which stood him in good stead, neverto lend women money. He used always to make the same reply. 

"No, my girl, I'm short. But would you like me to go to your littlerough?"

She refused; it was useless. Two days before she had succeeded ingetting five thousand francs out of the count. However, she soonregretted her discreet conduct, for the moment Labordette had gone thebaker reappeared, though it was barely half-past two, and with many loudoaths roughly settled himself on a bench in the hall. The young womanlistened to him from the first floor. She was pale, and it caused herespecial pain to hear the servants' secret rejoicings swelling up louderand louder till they even reached her ears. Down in the kitchen theywere dying of laughter. The coachman was staring across from the otherside of the court; Francois was crossing the hall without any apparentreason. Then he hurried off to report progress, after sneering knowinglyat the baker. They didn't care a damn for Madame; the walls were echoingto their laughter, and she felt that she was deserted on all hands anddespised by the servants' hall, the inmates of which were watching herevery movement and liberally bespattering her with the filthiest ofchaff. Thereupon she abandoned the intention of borrowing the hundredand thirty-three francs from Zoe; she already owed the maid money, andshe was too proud to risk a refusal now. Such a burst of feeling stirredher that she went back into her room, loudly remarking:

"Come, come, my girl, don't count on anyone but yourself. Your body'syour own property, and it's better to make use of it than to letyourself be insulted. "

And without even summoning Zoe she dressed herself with feverish hastein order to run round to the Tricon's. In hours of great embarrassmentthis was her last resource. Much sought after and constantly solicitedby the old lady, she would refuse or resign herself according to herneeds, and on these increasingly frequent occasions when both ends wouldnot meet in her royally conducted establishment, she was sure to findtwenty-five louis awaiting her at the other's house. She used to betakeherself to the Tricon's with the ease born of use, just as the poor goto the pawnshop. 

But as she left her own chamber Nana came suddenly upon Georges standingin the middle of the drawing room. Not noticing his waxen pallor and thesomber fire in his wide eyes, she gave a sigh of relief. 

"Ah, you've come from your brother. "

"No, " said the lad, growing yet paler. 

At this she gave a despairing shrug. What did he want? Why was hebarring her way? She was in a hurry--yes, she was. Then returning towhere he stood:

"You've no money, have you?"

"No. "

"That's true. How silly of me! Never a stiver; not even their omnibusfares Mamma doesn't wish it! Oh, what a set of men!"

And she escaped. But he held her back; he wanted to speak to her. Shewas fairly under way and again declared she had no time, but he stoppedher with a word. 

"Listen, I know you're going to marry my brother. "

Gracious! The thing was too funny! And she let herself down into a chairin order to laugh at her ease. 

"Yes, " continued the lad, "and I don't wish it. It's I you're going tomarry. That's why I've come. "

"Eh, what? You too?" she cried. "Why, it's a family disease, is it? No, never! What a fancy, to be sure! Have I ever asked you to do anything sonasty? Neither one nor t'other of you! No, never!"

The lad's face brightened. Perhaps he had been deceiving himself! Hecontinued:

"Then swear to me that you don't go to bed with my brother. "

"Oh, you're beginning to bore me now!" said Nana, who had risen withrenewed impatience. "It's amusing for a little while, but when I tellyou I'm in a hurry--I go to bed with your brother if it pleases me. Areyou keeping me--are you paymaster here that you insist on my making areport? Yes, I go to bed with your brother. "

He had caught hold of her arm and squeezed it hard enough to break it ashe stuttered:

"Don't say that! Don't say that!"

With a slight blow she disengaged herself from his grasp. 

"He's maltreating me now! Here's a young ruffian for you! My chicken, you'll leave this jolly sharp. I used to keep you about out of niceness. Yes, I did! You may stare! Did you think I was going to be your mammatill I died? I've got better things to do than to bring up brats. "

He listened to her stark with anguish, yet in utter submission. Herevery word cut him to the heart so sharply that he felt he should die. She did not so much as notice his suffering and continued delightedly torevenge herself on him for the annoyance of the morning. 

"It's like your brother; he's another pretty Johnny, he is! He promisedme two hundred francs. Oh, dear me; yes, I can wait for 'em. It isn'this money I care for! I've not got enough to pay for hair oil. Yes, he'sleaving me in a jolly fix! Look here, d'you want to know how mattersstand? Here goes then: it's all owing to your brother that I'm going outto earn twenty-five louis with another man. "

At these words his head spun, and he barred her egress. He cried; hebesought her not to go, clasping his hands together and blurting out:

"Oh no! Oh no!"

"I want to, I do, " she said. "Have you the money?"

No, he had not got the money. He would have given his life to havethe money! Never before had he felt so miserable, so useless, so verychildish. All his wretched being was shaken with weeping and gave proofof such heavy suffering that at last she noticed it and grew kind. Shepushed him away softly. 

"Come, my pet, let me pass; I must. Be reasonable. You're a baby boy, and it was very nice for a week, but nowadays I must look after my ownaffairs. Just think it over a bit. Now your brother's a man; what I'msaying doesn't apply to him. Oh, please do me a favor; it's no goodtelling him all this. He needn't know where I'm going. I always let outtoo much when I'm in a rage. "

She began laughing. Then taking him in her arms and kissing him on theforehead:

"Good-by, baby, " she said; "it's over, quite over between us; d'youunderstand? And now I'm off!"

And she left him, and he stood in the middle of the drawing room. Herlast words rang like the knell of a tocsin in his ears: "It's over, quite over!" And he thought the ground was opening beneath his feet. There was a void in his brain from which the man awaiting Nana haddisappeared. Philippe alone remained there in the young woman's bareembrace forever and ever. She did not deny it: she loved him, since shewanted to spare him the pain of her infidelity. It was over, quite over. He breathed heavily and gazed round the room, suffocating beneatha crushing weight. Memories kept recurring to him one after theother--memories of merry nights at La Mignotte, of amorous hours duringwhich he had fancied himself her child, of pleasures stolen in this veryroom. And now these things would never, never recur! He was too small;he had not grown up quickly enough; Philippe was supplanting him becausehe was a bearded man. So then this was the end; he could not go onliving. His vicious passion had become transformed into an infinitetenderness, a sensual adoration, in which his whole being was merged. Then, too, how was he to forget it all if his brother remained--hisbrother, blood of his blood, a second self, whose enjoyment drove himmad with jealousy? It was the end of all things; he wanted to die. 

All the doors remained open, as the servants noisily scattered over thehouse after seeing Madame make her exit on foot. Downstairs on the benchin the hall the baker was laughing with Charles and Francois. Zoecame running across the drawing room and seemed surprised at sightof Georges. She asked him if he were waiting for Madame. Yes, he waswaiting for her; he had for-gotten to give her an answer to a question. And when he was alone he set to work and searched. Finding nothing elseto suit his purpose, he took up in the dressing room a pair of verysharply pointed scissors with which Nana had a mania for ceaselesslytrimming herself, either by polishing her skin or cutting off littlehairs. Then for a whole hour he waited patiently, his hand in his pocketand his fingers tightly clasped round the scissors. 

"Here's Madame, " said Zoe, returning. She must have espied her throughthe bedroom window. 

There was a sound of people racing through the house, and laughterdied away and doors were shut. Georges heard Nana paying the baker andspeaking in the curtest way. Then she came upstairs. 

"What, you're here still!" she said as she noticed him. "Aha! We'regoing to grow angry, my good man!"

He followed her as she walked toward her bedroom. 

"Nana, will you marry me?"

She shrugged her shoulders. It was too stupid; she refused to answer anymore and conceived the idea of slamming the door in his face. 

"Nana, will you marry me?"

She slammed the door. He opened it with one hand while he brought theother and the scissors out of his pocket. And with one great stab hesimply buried them in his breast. 

Nana, meanwhile, had felt conscious that something dreadful wouldhappen, and she had turned round. When she saw him stab himself she wasseized with indignation. 

"Oh, what a fool he is! What a fool! And with my scissors! Will youleave off, you naughty little rogue? Oh, my God! Oh, my God!"

She was scared. Sinking on his knees, the boy had just given himselfa second stab, which sent him down at full length on the carpet. Heblocked the threshold of the bedroom. With that Nana lost her headutterly and screamed with all her might, for she dared not step overhis body, which shut her in and prevented her from running to seekassistance. 

"Zoe! Zoe! Come at once. Make him leave off. It's getting stupid--achild like that! He's killing himself now! And in my place too! Did youever see the like of it?"

He was frightening her. He was all white, and his eyes were shut. Therewas scarcely any bleeding--only a little blood, a tiny stain which wasoozing down into his waistcoat. She was making up her mind to step overthe body when an apparition sent her starting back. An old lady wasadvancing through the drawing-room door, which remained wide openopposite. And in her terror she recognized Mme Hugon but could notexplain her presence. Still wearing her gloves and hat, Nana keptedging backward, and her terror grew so great that she sought to defendherself, and in a shaky voice:

"Madame, " she cried, "it isn't I; I swear to you it isn't. He wanted tomarry me, and I said no, and he's killed himself!"

Slowly Mme Hugon drew near--she was in black, and her face showed paleunder her white hair. In the carriage, as she drove thither, the thoughtof Georges had vanished and that of Philippe's misdoing had again takencomplete possession of her. It might be that this woman could affordexplanations to the judges which would touch them, and so she conceivedthe project of begging her to bear witness in her son's favor. Downstairs the doors of the house stood open, but as she mounted to thefirst floor her sick feet failed her, and she was hesitating as towhich way to go when suddenly horror-stricken cries directed her. Thenupstairs she found a man lying on the floor with bloodstained shirt. Itwas Georges--it was her other child. 

Nana, in idiotic tones, kept saying:

"He wanted to marry me, and I said no, and he's killed himself. "

Uttering no cry, Mme Hugon stooped down. Yes, it was the other one; itwas Georges. The one was brought to dishonor, the other murdered! Itcaused her no surprise, for her whole life was ruined. Kneeling on thecarpet, utterly forgetting where she was, noticing no one else, shegazed fixedly at her boy's face and listened with her hand on his heart. Then she gave a feeble sigh--she had felt the heart beating. And withthat she lifted her head and scrutinized the room and the woman andseemed to remember. A fire glowed forth in her vacant eyes, and shelooked so great and terrible in her silence that Nana trembled as shecontinued to defend herself above the body that divided them. 

"I swear it, madame! If his brother were here he could explain it toyou. "

"His brother has robbed--he is in prison, " said the mother in a hardvoice. 

Nana felt a choking sensation. Why, what was the reason of it all? Theother had turned thief now! They were mad in that family! She ceasedstruggling in self-defense; she seemed no longer mistress in her ownhouse and allowed Mme Hugon to give what orders she liked. The servantshad at last hurried up, and the old lady insisted on their carrying thefainting Georges down to her carriage. She preferred killing him ratherthan letting him remain in that house. With an air of stupefaction Nanawatched the retreating servants as they supported poor, dear Zizi byhis legs and shoulders. The mother walked behind them in a state ofcollapse; she supported herself against the furniture; she felt as ifall she held dear had vanished in the void. On the landing a sob escapedher; she turned and twice ejaculated:

"Oh, but you've done us infinite harm! You've done us infinite harm!"

That was all. In her stupefaction Nana had sat down; she still wore hergloves and her hat. The house once more lapsed into heavy silence; thecarriage had driven away, and she sat motionless, not knowing what to donext, her head swimming after all she had gone through. A quarter of anhour later Count Muffat found her thus, but at sight of him she relievedher feelings in an overflowing current of talk. She told him all aboutthe sad incident, repeated the same details twenty times over, pickedup the bloodstained scissors in order to imitate Zizi's gesture when hestabbed himself. And above all she nursed the idea of proving her owninnocence. 

"Look you here, dearie, is it my fault? If you were the judge would youcondemn me? I certainly didn't tell Philippe to meddle with the tillany more than I urged that wretched boy to kill himself. I've been mostunfortunate throughout it all. They come and do stupid things in myplace; they make me miserable; they treat me like a hussy. "

And she burst into tears. A fit of nervous expansiveness rendered hersoft and doleful, and her immense distress melted her utterly. 

"And you, too, look as if you weren't satisfied. Now do just ask Zoe ifI'm at all mixed up in it. Zoe, do speak: explain to Monsieur--"

The lady's maid, having brought a towel and a basin of water out ofthe dressing room, had for some moments past been rubbing the carpet inorder to remove the bloodstains before they dried. 

"Oh, monsieur, " she declared, "Madame is utterly miserable!"

Muffat was still stupefied; the tragedy had frozen him, and hisimagination was full of the mother weeping for her sons. He knew hergreatness of heart and pictured her in her widow's weeds, witheringsolitarily away at Les Fondettes. But Nana grew ever more despondent, for now the memory of Zizi lying stretched on the floor, with a red holein his shirt, almost drove her senseless. 

"He used to be such a darling, so sweet and caressing. Oh, you know, mypet--I'm sorry if it vexes you--I loved that baby! I can't help sayingso; the words must out. Besides, now it ought not to hurt you at all. He's gone. You've got what you wanted; you're quite certain never tosurprise us again. "

And this last reflection tortured her with such regret that he ended byturning comforter. Well, well, he said, she ought to be brave; she wasquite right; it wasn't her fault! But she checked her lamentations ofher own accord in order to say:

"Listen, you must run round and bring me news of him. At once! I wishit!"

He took his hat and went to get news of Georges. When he returned aftersome three quarters of an hour he saw Nana leaning anxiously out of awindow, and he shouted up to her from the pavement that the lad wasnot dead and that they even hoped to bring him through. At this sheimmediately exchanged grief for excess of joy and began to singand dance and vote existence delightful. Zoe, meanwhile, was stilldissatisfied with her washing. She kept looking at the stain, and everytime she passed it she repeated:

"You know it's not gone yet, madame. "

As a matter of fact, the pale red stain kept reappearing on one ofthe white roses in the carpet pattern. It was as though, on the verythreshold of the room, a splash of blood were barring the doorway. 

"Bah!" said the joyous Nana. "That'll be rubbed out under people's feet. "

After the following day Count Muffat had likewise forgotten theincident. For a moment or two, when in the cab which drove him to theRue Richelieu, he had busily sworn never to return to that woman'shouse. Heaven was warning him; the misfortunes of Philippe and Georgeswere, he opined, prophetic of his proper ruin. But neither the sightof Mme Hugon in tears nor that of the boy burning with fever had beenstrong enough to make him keep his vow, and the short-lived horror ofthe situation had only left behind it a sense of secret delight at thethought that he was now well quit of a rival, the charm of whoseyouth had always exasperated him. His passion had by this time grownexclusive; it was, indeed, the passion of a man who has had no youth. He loved Nana as one who yearned to be her sole possessor, to listen toher, to touch her, to be breathed on by her. His was now a supersensualtenderness, verging on pure sentiment; it was an anxious affection andas such was jealous of the past and apt at times to dream of a day ofredemption and pardon received, when both should kneel before God theFather. Every day religion kept regaining its influence over him. He again became a practicing Christian; he confessed himself andcommunicated, while a ceaseless struggle raged within him, and remorseredoubled the joys of sin and of repentance. Afterward, when hisdirector gave him leave to spend his passion, he had made a habit ofthis daily perdition and would redeem the same by ecstasies of faith, which were full of pious humility. Very naively he offered heaven, by way of expiatory anguish, the abominable torment from which he wassuffering. This torment grew and increased, and he would climb hisCalvary with the deep and solemn feelings of a believer, though steepedin a harlot's fierce sensuality. That which made his agony most poignantwas this woman's continued faithlessness. He could not share her withothers, nor did he understand her imbecile caprices. Undying, unchanginglove was what he wished for. However, she had sworn, and he paid her ashaving done so. But he felt that she was untruthful, incapable ofcommon fidelity, apt to yield to friends, to stray passers-by, like agood-natured animal, born to live minus a shift. 

One morning when he saw Foucarmont emerging from her bedroom at anunusual hour, he made a scene about it. But in her weariness of hisjealousy she grew angry directly. On several occasions ere that she hadbehaved rather prettily. Thus the evening when he surprised her withGeorges she was the first to regain her temper and to confess herselfin the wrong. She had loaded him with caresses and dosed him with softspeeches in order to make him swallow the business. But he had endedby boring her to death with his obstinate refusals to understand thefeminine nature, and now she was brutal. 

"Very well, yes! I've slept with Foucarmont. What then? That's flattenedyou out a bit, my little rough, hasn't it?"

It was the first time she had thrown "my little rough" in his teeth. Thefrank directness of her avowal took his breath away, and when he beganclenching his fists she marched up to him and looked him full in theface. 

"We've had enough of this, eh? If it doesn't suit you you'll do me thepleasure of leaving the house. I don't want you to go yelling in myplace. Just you get it into your noodle that I mean to be quite free. When a man pleases me I go to bed with him. Yes, I do--that's my way!And you must make up your mind directly. Yes or no! If it's no, out youmay walk!"

She had gone and opened the door, but he did not leave. That was her waynow of binding him more closely to her. For no reason whatever, at theslightest approach to a quarrel she would tell him he might stop orgo as he liked, and she would accompany her permission with a flood ofodious reflections. She said she could always find better than he; shehad only too many from whom to choose; men in any quantity could bepicked up in the street, and men a good deal smarter, too, whose bloodboiled in their veins. At this he would hang his head and wait for thosegentler moods when she wanted money. She would then become affectionate, and he would forget it all, one night of tender dalliance making upfor the tortures of a whole week. His reconciliation with his wife hadrendered his home unbearable. Fauchery, having again fallen under Rose'sdominion, the countess was running madly after other loves. She wasentering on the forties, that restless, feverish time in the life ofwomen, and ever hysterically nervous, she now filled her mansionwith the maddening whirl of her fashionable life. Estelle, since hermarriage, had seen nothing of her father; the undeveloped, insignificantgirl had suddenly become a woman of iron will, so imperious withal thatDaguenet trembled in her presence. In these days he accompanied herto mass: he was converted, and he raged against his father-in-law forruining them with a courtesan. M. Venot alone still remained kindlyinclined toward the count, for he was biding his time. He had evensucceeded in getting into Nana's immediate circle. In fact, hefrequented both houses, where you encountered his continual smile behinddoors. So Muffat, wretched at home, driven out by ennui and shame, stillpreferred to live in the Avenue de Villiers, even though he was abusedthere. 

Soon there was but one question between Nana and the count, and that was"money. " One day after having formally promised her ten thousand francshe had dared keep his appointment empty handed. For two days past shehad been surfeiting him with love, and such a breach of faith, such awaste of caresses, made her ragingly abusive. She was white with fury. 

"So you've not got the money, eh? Then go back where you came from, mylittle rough, and look sharp about it! There's a bloody fool for you! Hewanted to kiss me again! Mark my words--no money, no nothing!"

He explained matters; he would be sure to have the money the day aftertomorrow. But she interrupted him violently:

"And my bills! They'll sell me up while Monsieur's playing the fool. Now then, look at yourself. D'ye think I love you for your figure? A manwith a mug like yours has to pay the women who are kind enough to put upwith him. By God, if you don't bring me that ten thousand francs tonightyou shan't even have the tip of my little finger to suck. I mean it! Ishall send you back to your wife!"

At night he brought the ten thousand francs. Nana put up her lips, andhe took a long kiss which consoled him for the whole day of anguish. What annoyed the young woman was to have him continually tied to herapron strings. She complained to M. Venot, begging him to take herlittle rough off to the countess. Was their reconciliation good fornothing then? She was sorry she had mixed herself up in it, sincedespite everything he was always at her heels. On the days when, out ofanger, she forgot her own interest, she swore to play him such a dirtytrick that he would never again be able to set foot in her place. Butwhen she slapped her leg and yelled at him she might quite as well havespat in his face too: he would still have stayed and even thankedher. Then the rows about money matters kept continually recurring. Shedemanded money savagely; she rowed him over wretched little amounts;she was odiously stingy with every minute of her time; she kept fiercelyinforming him that she slept with him for his money, not for any otherreasons, and that she did not enjoy it a bit, that, in fact, she lovedanother and was awfully unfortunate in needing an idiot of his sort!They did not even want him at court now, and there was some talk ofrequiring him to send in his resignation. The empress had said, "He istoo disgusting. " It was true enough. So Nana repeated the phrase by wayof closure to all their quarrels. 

"Look here! You disgust me!"

Nowadays she no longer minded her ps and qs; she had regained the mostperfect freedom. 

Every day she did her round of the lake, beginning acquaintanceshipswhich ended elsewhere. Here was the happy hunting ground par excellence, where courtesans of the first water spread their nets in open daylightand flaunted themselves amid the tolerating smiles and brilliant luxuryof Paris. Duchesses pointed her out to one another with a passinglook--rich shopkeepers' wives copied the fashion of her hats. Sometimesher landau, in its haste to get by, stopped a file of puissant turnouts, wherein sat plutocrats able to buy up all Europe or Cabinet ministerswith plump fingers tight-pressed to the throat of France. She belongedto this Bois society, occupied a prominent place in it, was known inevery capital and asked about by every foreigner. The splendors of thiscrowd were enhanced by the madness of her profligacy as though it werethe very crown, the darling passion, of the nation. Then there wereunions of a night, continual passages of desire, which she lost countof the morning after, and these sent her touring through the grandrestaurants and on fine days, as often as not, to "Madrid. " The staffsof all the embassies visited her, and she, Lucy Stewart, Caroline Hequetand Maria Blond would dine in the society of gentlemen who murdered theFrench language and paid to be amused, engaging them by the evening withorders to be funny and yet proving so blase and so worn out that theynever even touched them. This the ladies called "going on a spree, " andthey would return home happy at having been despised and would finishthe night in the arms of the lovers of their choice. 

When she did not actually throw the men at his head Count Muffatpretended not to know about all this. However, he suffered not a littlefrom the lesser indignities of their daily life. The mansion in theAvenue de Villiers was becoming a hell, a house full of mad people, inwhich every hour of the day wild disorders led to hateful complications. Nana even fought with her servants. One moment she would be very nicewith Charles, the coachman. When she stopped at a restaurant she wouldsend him out beer by the waiter and would talk with him from the insideof her carriage when he slanged the cabbies at a block in the traffic, for then he struck her as funny and cheered her up. Then the next momentshe called him a fool for no earthly reason. She was always squabblingover the straw, the bran or the oats; in spite of her love for animalsshe thought her horses ate too much. Accordingly one day when she wassettling up she accused the man of robbing her. At this Charles got ina rage and called her a whore right out; his horses, he said, weredistinctly better than she was, for they did not sleep with everybody. She answered him in the same strain, and the count had to separate themand give the coachman the sack. This was the beginning of a rebellionamong the servants. When her diamonds had been stolen Victorine andFrancois left. Julien himself disappeared, and the tale ran that themaster had given him a big bribe and had begged him to go, becausehe slept with the mistress. Every week there were new faces in theservants' hall. Never was there such a mess; the house was like apassage down which the scum of the registry offices galloped, destroyingeverything in their path. Zoe alone kept her place; she always lookedclean, and her only anxiety was how to organize this riot until she hadgot enough together to set up on her own account in fulfillment of aplan she had been hatching for some time past. 

These, again, were only the anxieties he could own to. The count put upwith the stupidity of Mme Maloir, playing bezique with her in spite ofher musty smell. He put up with Mme Lerat and her encumbrances, withLouiset and the mournful complaints peculiar to a child who is beingeaten up with the rottenness inherited from some unknown father. Buthe spent hours worse than these. One evening he had heard Nana angrilytelling her maid that a man pretending to be rich had just swindledher--a handsome man calling himself an American and owning gold mines inhis own country, a beast who had gone off while she was asleep withoutgiving her a copper and had even taken a packet of cigarette papers withhim. The count had turned very pale and had gone downstairs again ontiptoe so as not to hear more. But later he had to hear all. Nana, having been smitten with a baritone in a music hall and having beenthrown over by him, wanted to commit suicide during a fit of sentimentalmelancholia. She swallowed a glass of water in which she had soaked abox of matches. This made her terribly sick but did not kill her. Thecount had to nurse her and to listen to the whole story of her passion, her tearful protests and her oaths never to take to any man again. In her contempt for those swine, as she called them, she could not, however, keep her heart free, for she always had some sweetheart roundher, and her exhausted body inclined to incomprehensible fancies andperverse tastes. As Zoe designedly relaxed her efforts the service ofthe house had got to such a pitch that Muffat did not dare to push opena door, to pull a curtain or to unclose a cupboard. The bells didnot ring; men lounged about everywhere and at every moment knocked upagainst one another. He had now to cough before entering a room, havingalmost caught the girl hanging round Francis' neck one evening thathe had just gone out of the dressing room for two minutes to tell thecoachman to put the horses to, while her hairdresser was finishingher hair. She gave herself up suddenly behind his back; she took herpleasure in every corner, quickly, with the first man she met. Whethershe was in her chemise or in full dress did not matter. She would comeback to the count red all over, happy at having cheated him. As for him, he was plagued to death; it was an abominable infliction!

In his jealous anguish the unhappy man was comparatively at peace whenhe left Nana and Satin alone together. He would have willingly urged heron to this vice, to keep the men off her. But all was spoiled in thisdirection too. Nana deceived Satin as she deceived the count, going madover some monstrous fancy or other and picking up girls at the streetcorners. Coming back in her carriage, she would suddenly be taken witha little slut that she saw on the pavement; her senses would becaptivated, her imagination excited. She would take the little slut inwith her, pay her and send her away again. Then, disguised as a man, shewould go to infamous houses and look on at scenes of debauch to whileaway hours of boredom. And Satin, angry at being thrown over everymoment, would turn the house topsy-turvy with the most awful scenes. Shehad at last acquired a complete ascendancy over Nana, who now respectedher. Muffat even thought of an alliance between them. When he dared notsay anything he let Satin loose. Twice she had compelled her darlingto take up with him again, while he showed himself obliging and effacedhimself in her favor at the least sign. But this good understandinglasted no time, for Satin, too, was a little cracked. On certain daysshe would very nearly go mad and would smash everything, wearing herselfout in tempest of love and anger, but pretty all the time. Zoe must haveexcited her, for the maid took her into corners as if she wanted to tellher about her great design of which she as yet spoke to no one. 

At times, however, Count Muffat was still singularly revolted. He whohad tolerated Satin for months, who had at last shut his eyes to theunknown herd of men that scampered so quickly through Nana's bedroom, became terribly enraged at being deceived by one of his own set or evenby an acquaintance. When she confessed her relations with Foucarmont hesuffered so acutely, he thought the treachery of the young man so base, that he wished to insult him and fight a duel. As he did not know whereto find seconds for such an affair, he went to Labordette. The latter, astonished, could not help laughing. 

"A duel about Nana? But, my dear sir, all Paris would be laughing atyou. Men do not fight for Nana; it would be ridiculous. "

The count grew very pale and made a violent gesture. 

"Then I shall slap his face in the open street. "

For an hour Labordette had to argue with him. A blow would make theaffair odious; that evening everyone would know the real reason of themeeting; it would be in all the papers. And Labordette always finishedwith the same expression:

"It is impossible; it would be ridiculous. "

Each time Muffat heard these words they seemed sharp and keen as a stab. He could not even fight for the woman he loved; people would have burstout laughing. Never before had he felt more bitterly the misery of hislove, the contrast between his heavy heart and the absurdity of thislife of pleasure in which it was now lost. This was his last rebellion;he allowed Labordette to convince him, and he was present afterward atthe procession of his friends, who lived there as if at home. 

Nana in a few months finished them up greedily, one after the other. Thegrowing needs entailed by her luxurious way of life only added fuel toher desires, and she finished a man up at one mouthful. First she hadFoucarmont, who did not last a fortnight. He was thinking of leavingthe navy, having saved about thirty thousand francs in his ten years ofservice, which he wished to invest in the United States. His instincts, which were prudential, even miserly, were conquered; he gave hereverything, even his signature to notes of hand, which pledged hisfuture. When Nana had done with him he was penniless. But then sheproved very kind; she advised him to return to his ship. What was thegood of getting angry? Since he had no money their relations were nolonger possible. He ought to understand that and to be reasonable. Aruined man fell from her hands like a ripe fruit, to rot on the groundby himself. 

Then Nana took up with Steiner without disgust but without love. Shecalled him a dirty Jew; she seemed to be paying back an old grudge, ofwhich she had no distinct recollection. He was fat; he was stupid, andshe got him down and took two bites at a time in order the quicker todo for this Prussian. As for him, he had thrown Simonne over. HisBosphorous scheme was getting shaky, and Nana hastened the downfall bywild expenses. For a month he struggled on, doing miracles of finance. He filled Europe with posters, advertisements and prospectuses of acolossal scheme and obtained money from the most distant climes. Allthese savings, the pounds of speculators and the pence of the poor, were swallowed up in the Avenue de Villiers. Again he was partner in anironworks in Alsace, where in a small provincial town workmen, blackenedwith coal dust and soaked with sweat, day and night strained theirsinews and heard their bones crack to satisfy Nana's pleasures. Like ahuge fire she devoured all the fruits of stock-exchange swindling andthe profits of labor. This time she did for Steiner; she brought him tothe ground, sucked him dry to the core, left him so cleaned out that hewas unable to invent a new roguery. When his bank failed he stammeredand trembled at the idea of prosecution. His bankruptcy had just beenpublished, and the simple mention of money flurried him and threw himinto a childish embarrassment. And this was he who had played withmillions. One evening at Nana's he began to cry and asked her for a loanof a hundred francs wherewith to pay his maidservant. And Nana, muchaffected and amused at the end of this terrible old man who had squeezedParis for twenty years, brought it to him and said:

"I say, I'm giving it you because it seems so funny! But listen to me, my boy, you are too old for me to keep. You must find something else todo. "

Then Nana started on La Faloise at once. He had for some time beenlonging for the honor of being ruined by her in order to put thefinishing stroke on his smartness. He needed a woman to launch himproperly; it was the one thing still lacking. In two months all Pariswould be talking of him, and he would see his name in the papers. Sixweeks were enough. His inheritance was in landed estate, houses, fields, woods and farms. He had to sell all, one after the other, as quicklyas he could. At every mouthful Nana swallowed an acre. The foliagetrembling in the sunshine, the wide fields of ripe grain, the vineyardsso golden in September, the tall grass in which the cows stoodknee-deep, all passed through her hands as if engulfed by an abyss. Evenfishing rights, a stone quarry and three mills disappeared. Nana passedover them like an invading army or one of those swarms of locusts whoseflight scours a whole province. The ground was burned up where herlittle foot had rested. Farm by farm, field by field, she ate up theman's patrimony very prettily and quite inattentively, just as she wouldhave eaten a box of sweet-meats flung into her lap between mealtimes. There was no harm in it all; they were only sweets! But at last oneevening there only remained a single little wood. She swallowed it updisdainfully, as it was hardly worth the trouble opening one's mouthfor. La Faloise laughed idiotically and sucked the top of his stick. Hisdebts were crushing him; he was not worth a hundred francs a year, andhe saw that he would be compelled to go back into the country andlive with his maniacal uncle. But that did not matter; he had achievedsmartness; the Figaro had printed his name twice. And with his meagerneck sticking up between the turndown points of his collar and hisfigure squeezed into all too short a coat, he would swagger about, uttering his parrotlike exclamations and affecting a solemn listlessnesssuggestive of an emotionless marionette. He so annoyed Nana that sheended by beating him. 

Meanwhile Fauchery had returned, his cousin having brought him. PoorFauchery had now set up housekeeping. After having thrown over thecountess he had fallen into Rose's hands, and she treated him as alawful wife would have done. Mignon was simply Madame's major-domo. Installed as master of the house, the journalist lied to Rose and tookall sorts of precautions when he deceived her. He was as scrupulous asa good husband, for he really wanted to settle down at last. Nana'striumph consisted in possessing and in ruining a newspaper that he hadstarted with a friend's capital. She did not proclaim her triumph;on the contrary, she delighted in treating him as a man who had tobe circumspect, and when she spoke of Rose it was as "poor Rose. "The newspaper kept her in flowers for two months. She took all theprovincial subscriptions; in fact, she took everything, from the columnof news and gossip down to the dramatic notes. Then the editorialstaff having been turned topsy-turvy and the management completelydisorganized, she satisfied a fanciful caprice and had a winter gardenconstructed in a corner of her house: that carried off all the type. Butthen it was no joke after all! When in his delight at the whole businessMignon came to see if he could not saddle Fauchery on her altogether, she asked him if he took her for a fool. A penniless fellow living byhis articles and his plays--not if she knew it! That sort of foolishnessmight be all very well for a clever woman like her poor, dear Rose! Shegrew distrustful: she feared some treachery on Mignon's part, for hewas quite capable of preaching to his wife, and so she gave Fauchery hisCONGE as he now only paid her in fame. 

But she always recollected him kindly. They had both enjoyed themselvesso much at the expense of that fool of a La Faloise! They would neverhave thought of seeing each other again if the delight of fooling sucha perfect idiot had not egged them on! It seemed an awfully good joketo kiss each other under his very nose. They cut a regular dash with hiscoin; they would send him off full speed to the other end of Paris inorder to be alone and then when he came back, they would crack jokesand make allusions he could not understand. One day, urged by thejournalist, she bet that she would smack his face, and that she did thevery same evening and went on to harder blows, for she thought it a goodjoke and was glad of the opportunity of showing how cowardly men were. She called him her "slapjack" and would tell him to come and have hissmack! The smacks made her hands red, for as yet she was not up to thetrick. La Faloise laughed in his idiotic, languid way, though his eyeswere full of tears. He was delighted at such familiarity; he thought itsimply stunning. 

One night when he had received sundry cuffs and was greatly excited:

"Now, d'you know, " he said, "you ought to marry me. We should be asjolly as grigs together, eh?"

This was no empty suggestion. Seized with a desire to astonish Paris, hehad been slyly projecting this marriage. "Nana's husband! Wouldn't thatsound smart, eh?" Rather a stunning apotheosis that! But Nana gave him afine snubbing. 

"Me marry you! Lovely! If such an idea had been tormenting me I shouldhave found a husband a long time ago! And he'd have been a man worthtwenty of you, my pippin! I've had a heap of proposals. Why, look here, just reckon 'em up with me: Philippe, Georges, Foucarmont, Steiner--thatmakes four, without counting the others you don't know. It's a chorusthey all sing. I can't be nice, but they forthwith begin yelling, 'Willyou marry me? Will you marry me?'"

She lashed herself up and then burst out in fine indignation:

"Oh dear, no! I don't want to! D'you think I'm built that way? Just lookat me a bit! Why, I shouldn't be Nana any longer if I fastened a man onbehind! And, besides, it's too foul!"

And she spat and hiccuped with disgust, as though she had seen all thedirt in the world spread out beneath her. 

One evening La Faloise vanished, and a week later it became known thathe was in the country with an uncle whose mania was botany. He waspasting his specimens for him and stood a chance of marrying a veryplain, pious cousin. Nana shed no tears for him. She simply said to thecount:

"Eh, little rough, another rival less! You're chortling today. But hewas becoming serious! He wanted to marry me. "

He waxed pale, and she flung her arms round his neck and hung there, laughing, while she emphasized every little cruel speech with a caress. 

"You can't marry Nana! Isn't that what's fetching you, eh? When they'reall bothering me with their marriages you're raging in your corner. Itisn't possible; you must wait till your wife kicks the bucket. Oh, ifshe were only to do that, how you'd come rushing round! How you'dfling yourself on the ground and make your offer with all the grandaccompaniments--sighs and tears and vows! Wouldn't it be nice, darling, eh?"

Her voice had become soft, and she was chaffing him in a ferociouslywheedling manner. He was deeply moved and began blushing as he paid herback her kisses. Then she cried:

"By God, to think I should have guessed! He's thought about it; he'swaiting for his wife to go off the hooks! Well, well, that's thefinishing touch! Why, he's even a bigger rascal than the others!"

Muffat had resigned himself to "the others. " Nowadays he was trustingto the last relics of his personal dignity in order to remain "Monsieur"among the servants and intimates of the house, the man, in fact, whobecause he gave most was the official lover. And his passion grewfiercer. He kept his position because he paid for it, buying even smilesat a high price. He was even robbed and he never got his money's worth, but a disease seemed to be gnawing his vitals from which he could notprevent himself suffering. Whenever he entered Nana's bedroom he wassimply content to open the windows for a second or two in order to getrid of the odors the others left behind them, the essential smells offair-haired men and dark, the smoke of cigars, of which the pungencychoked him. This bedroom was becoming a veritable thoroughfare, socontinually were boots wiped on its threshold. Yet never a man amongthem was stopped by the bloodstain barring the door. Zoe was stillpreoccupied by this stain; it was a simple mania with her, for she wasa clean girl, and it horrified her to see it always there. Despiteeverything her eyes would wander in its direction, and she now neverentered Madame's room without remarking:

"It's strange that don't go. All the same, plenty of folk come in thisway. "

Nana kept receiving the best news from Georges, who was by that timealready convalescent in his mother's keeping at Les Fondettes, and sheused always to make the same reply. 

"Oh, hang it, time's all that's wanted. It's apt to grow paler as feetcross it. "

As a matter of fact, each of the gentlemen, whether Foucarmont, Steiner, La Faloise or Fauchery, had borne away some of it on their bootsoles. And Muffat, whom the bloodstain preoccupied as much as it did Zoe, kept studying it in his own despite, as though in its gradual rosydisappearance he would read the number of men that passed. He secretlydreaded it and always stepped over it out of a vivid fear of crushingsome live thing, some naked limb lying on the floor. 

But in the bedroom within he would grow dizzy and intoxicated and wouldforget everything--the mob of men which constantly crossed it, thesign of mourning which barred its door. Outside, in the open air of thestreet, he would weep occasionally out of sheer shame and disgust andwould vow never to enter the room again. And the moment the portiere hadclosed behind him he was under the old influence once more and felt hiswhole being melting in the damp warm air of the place, felt his fleshpenetrated by a perfume, felt himself overborne by a voluptuous yearningfor self-annihilation. Pious and habituated to ecstatic experiences insumptuous chapels, he there re-encountered precisely the same mysticalsensations as when he knelt under some painted window and gave wayto the intoxication of organ music and incense. Woman swayed him asjealously and despotically as the God of wrath, terrifying him, grantinghim moments of delight, which were like spasms in their keenness, inreturn for hours filled with frightful, tormenting visions of hell andeternal tortures. In Nana's presence, as in church, the same stammeringaccents were his, the same prayers and the same fits of despair--nay, the same paroxysms of humility peculiar to an accursed creature who iscrushed down in the mire from whence he has sprung. His fleshly desires, his spiritual needs, were confounded together and seemed to spring fromthe obscure depths of his being and to bear but one blossom on thetree of his existence. He abandoned himself to the power of love andof faith, those twin levers which move the world. And despite all thestruggles of his reason this bedroom of Nana's always filled him withmadness, and he would sink shuddering under the almighty dominion ofsex, just as he would swoon before the vast unknown of heaven. 

Then when she felt how humble he was Nana grew tyrannously triumphant. The rage for debasing things was inborn in her. It did not sufficeher to destroy them; she must soil them too. Her delicate hands leftabominable traces and themselves decomposed whatever they had broken. And he in his imbecile condition lent himself to this sort of sport, for he was possessed by vaguely remembered stories of saints who weredevoured by vermin and in turn devoured their own excrements. Whenonce she had him fast in her room and the doors were shut, she treatedherself to a man's infamy. At first they joked together, and she woulddeal him light blows and impose quaint tasks on him, making him lisplike a child and repeat tags of sentences. 

"Say as I do: 'tonfound it! Ickle man damn vell don't tare about it!"

He would prove so docile as to reproduce her very accent. 

"'Tonfound it! Ickle man damn vell don't tare about it!"

Or again she would play bear, walking on all fours on her rugs when shehad only her chemise on and turning round with a growl as though shewanted to eat him. She would even nibble his calves for the fun of thething. Then, getting up again:

"It's your turn now; try it a bit. I bet you don't play bear like me. "

It was still charming enough. As bear she amused him with her white skinand her fell of ruddy hair. He used to laugh and go down on all fours, too, and growl and bite her calves, while she ran from him with anaffectation of terror. 

"Are we beasts, eh?" she would end by saying. "You've no notion how uglyyou are, my pet! Just think if they were to see you like that at theTuileries!"

But ere long these little games were spoiled. It was not cruelty in hercase, for she was still a good-natured girl; it was as though a passingwind of madness were blowing ever more strongly in the shut-up bedroom. A storm of lust disordered their brains, plunged them into the deliriousimaginations of the flesh. The old pious terrors of their sleeplessnights were now transforming themselves into a thirst for bestiality, afurious longing to walk on all fours, to growl and to bite. One day whenhe was playing bear she pushed him so roughly that he fell against apiece of furniture, and when she saw the lump on his forehead she burstinto involuntary laughter. After that her experiments on La Faloisehaving whetted her appetite, she treated him like an animal, threshinghim and chasing him to an accompaniment of kicks. 

"Gee up! Gee up! You're a horse. Hoi! Gee up! Won't you hurry up, youdirty screw?"

At other times he was a dog. She would throw her scented handkerchiefto the far end of the room, and he had to run and pick it up with histeeth, dragging himself along on hands and knees. 

"Fetch it, Caesar! Look here, I'll give you what for if you don't looksharp! Well done, Caesar! Good dog! Nice old fellow! Now behave pretty!"

And he loved his abasement and delighted in being a brute beast. Helonged to sink still further and would cry:

"Hit harder. On, on! I'm wild! Hit away!"

She was seized with a whim and insisted on his coming to her one nightclad in his magnificent chamberlain's costume. Then how she did laughand make fun of him when she had him there in all his glory, with thesword and the cocked hat and the white breeches and the full-bottomedcoat of red cloth laced with gold and the symbolic key hanging on itsleft-hand skirt. This key made her especially merry and urged her to awildly fanciful and extremely filthy discussion of it. Laughing withoutcease and carried away by her irreverence for pomp and by the joy ofdebasing him in the official dignity of his costume, she shook him, pinched him, shouted, "Oh, get along with ye, Chamberlain!" and ended byan accompaniment of swinging kicks behind. Oh, those kicks! How heartilyshe rained them on the Tuileries and the majesty of the imperial court, throning on high above an abject and trembling people. That's whatshe thought of society! That was her revenge! It was an affair ofunconscious hereditary spite; it had come to her in her blood. Then whenonce the chamberlain was undressed and his coat lay spread on the groundshe shrieked, "Jump!" And he jumped. She shrieked, "Spit!" And he spat. With a shriek she bade him walk on the gold, on the eagles, on thedecorations, and he walked on them. Hi tiddly hi ti! Nothing was left;everything was going to pieces. She smashed a chamberlain just as shesmashed a flask or a comfit box, and she made filth of him, reduced himto a heap of mud at a street corner. 

Meanwhile the goldsmiths had failed to keep their promise, and the bedwas not delivered till one day about the middle of January. Muffat wasjust then in Normandy, whither he had gone to sell a last stray shred ofproperty, but Nana demanded four thousand francs forthwith. He was notdue in Paris till the day after tomorrow, but when his business was oncefinished he hastened his return and without even paying a flying visitin the Rue Miromesnil came direct to the Avenue de Villiers. Ten o'clockwas striking. As he had a key of a little door opening on the RueCardinet, he went up unhindered. In the drawing room upstairs Zoe, whowas polishing the bronzes, stood dumfounded at sight of him, and notknowing how to stop him, she began with much circumlocution, informinghim that M. Venot, looking utterly beside himself, had been searchingfor him since yesterday and that he had already come twice to beg her tosend Monsieur to his house if Monsieur arrived at Madame's before goinghome. Muffat listened to her without in the least understanding themeaning of her recital; then he noticed her agitation and was seized bya sudden fit of jealousy of which he no longer believed himself capable. He threw himself against the bedroom door, for he heard the sound oflaughter within. The door gave; its two flaps flew asunder, while Zoewithdrew, shrugging her shoulders. So much the worse for Madame! AsMadame was bidding good-by to her wits, she might arrange matters forherself. 

And on the threshold Muffat uttered a cry at the sight that waspresented to his view. 

"My God! My God!"

The renovated bedroom was resplendent in all its royal luxury. Silverbuttons gleamed like bright stars on the tea-rose velvet of thehangings. These last were of that pink flesh tint which the skies assumeon fine evenings, when Venus lights her fires on the horizon againstthe clear background of fading daylight. The golden cords and tasselshanging in corners and the gold lace-work surrounding the panels werelike little flames of ruddy strands of loosened hair, and they halfcovered the wide nakedness of the room while they emphasized its pale, voluptuous tone. Then over against him there was the gold and silverbed, which shone in all the fresh splendor of its chiseled workmanship, a throne this of sufficient extent for Nana to display the outstretchedglory of her naked limbs, an altar of Byzantine sumptuousness, worthy ofthe almighty puissance of Nana's sex, which at this very hour lay nudelydisplayed there in the religious immodesty befitting an idol of allmen's worship. And close by, beneath the snowy reflections of her bosomand amid the triumph of the goddess, lay wallowing a shameful, decrepitthing, a comic and lamentable ruin, the Marquis de Chouard in hisnightshirt. 

The count had clasped his hands together and, shaken by a paroxysmalshuddering, he kept crying:

"My God! My God!"

It was for the Marquis de Chouard, then, that the golden rosesflourished on the side panels, those bunches of golden roses bloomingamong the golden leaves; it was for him that the Cupids leaned forthwith amorous, roguish laughter from their tumbling ring on the silvertrelliswork. And it was for him that the faun at his feet discovered thenymph sleeping, tired with dalliance, the figure of Night copied down tothe exaggerated thighs--which caused her to be recognizable of all--fromNana's renowned nudity. Cast there like the rag of something humanwhich has been spoiled and dissolved by sixty years of debauchery, he suggested the charnelhouse amid the glory of the woman's dazzlingcontours. Seeing the door open, he had risen up, smitten with suddenterror as became an infirm old man. This last night of passion hadrendered him imbecile; he was entering on his second childhood; and, his speech failing him, he remained in an attitude of flight, half-paralyzed, stammering, shivering, his nightshirt half up hisskeleton shape, and one leg outside the clothes, a livid leg, coveredwith gray hair. Despite her vexation Nana could not keep from laughing. 

"Do lie down! Stuff yourself into the bed, " she said, pulling him backand burying him under the coverlet, as though he were some filthy thingshe could not show anyone. 

Then she sprang up to shut the door again. She was decidedly never luckywith her little rough. He was always coming when least wanted. And whyhad he gone to fetch money in Normandy? The old man had brought herthe four thousand francs, and she had let him have his will of her. Shepushed back the two flaps of the door and shouted:

"So much the worse for you! It's your fault. Is that the way to comeinto a room? I've had enough of this sort of thing. Ta ta!"

Muffat remained standing before the closed door, thunderstruck by whathe had just seen. His shuddering fit increased. It mounted from his feetto his heart and brain. Then like a tree shaken by a mighty wind, heswayed to and fro and dropped on his knees, all his muscles giving wayunder him. And with hands despairingly outstretched he stammered:

"This is more than I can bear, my God! More than I can bear!"

He had accepted every situation but he could do so no longer. He hadcome to the end of his strength and was plunged in the dark void whereman and his reason are together overthrown. In an extravagant access offaith he raised his hands ever higher and higher, searching for heaven, calling on God. 

"Oh no, I do not desire it! Oh, come to me, my God! Succor me; nay, letme die sooner! Oh no, not that man, my God! It is over; take me, carryme away, that I may not see, that I may not feel any longer! Oh, Ibelong to you, my God! Our Father which art in heaven--"

And burning with faith, he continued his supplication, and an ardentprayer escaped from his lips. But someone touched him on the shoulder. He lifted his eyes; it was M. Venot. He was surprised to find himpraying before that closed door. Then as though God Himself hadresponded to his appeal, the count flung his arms round the little oldgentleman's neck. At last he could weep, and he burst out sobbing andrepeated:

"My brother, my brother. "

All his suffering humanity found comfort in that cry. He drenchedM. Venot's face with tears; he kissed him, uttering fragmentaryejaculations. 

"Oh, my brother, how I am suffering! You only are left me, my brother. Take me away forever--oh, for mercy's sake, take me away!"

Then M. Venot pressed him to his bosom and called him "brother" also. But he had a fresh blow in store for him. Since yesterday he had beensearching for him in order to inform him that the Countess Sabine, ina supreme fit of moral aberration, had but now taken flight with themanager of one of the departments in a large, fancy emporium. It was afearful scandal, and all Paris was already talking about it. Seeinghim under the influence of such religious exaltation, Venot felt theopportunity to be favorable and at once told him of the meanly tragicshipwreck of his house. The count was not touched thereby. His wife hadgone? That meant nothing to him; they would see what would happen lateron. And again he was seized with anguish, and gazing with a look ofterror at the door, the walls, the ceiling, he continued pouring forthhis single supplication:

"Take me away! I cannot bear it any longer! Take me away!"

M. Venot took him away as though he had been a child. From thatday forth Muffat belonged to him entirely; he again became strictlyattentive to the duties of religion; his life was utterly blasted. Hehad resigned his position as chamberlain out of respect for the outragedmodesty of the Tuileries, and soon Estelle, his daughter, brought anaction against him for the recovery of a sum of sixty thousand francs, a legacy left her by an aunt to which she ought to have succeeded at thetime of her marriage. Ruined and living narrowly on the remains of hisgreat fortune, he let himself be gradually devoured by the countess, who ate up the husks Nana had rejected. Sabine was indeed ruined by theexample of promiscuity set her by her husband's intercourse with thewanton. She was prone to every excess and proved the ultimate ruin anddestruction of his very hearth. After sundry adventures she had returnedhome, and he had taken her back in a spirit of Christian resignation andforgiveness. She haunted him as his living disgrace, but he grew moreand more indifferent and at last ceased suffering from these distresses. Heaven took him out of his wife's hands in order to restore him to thearms of God, and so the voluptuous pleasures he had enjoyed with Nanawere prolonged in religious ecstasies, accompanied by the old stammeringutterances, the old prayers and despairs, the old fits of humility whichbefit an accursed creature who is crushed beneath the mire whence hesprang. In the recesses of churches, his knees chilled by the pavement, he would once more experience the delights of the past, and hismuscles would twitch, and his brain would whirl deliciously, and thesatisfaction of the obscure necessities of his existence would be thesame as of old. 

On the evening of the final rupture Mignon presented himself at thehouse in the Avenue de Villiers. He was growing accustomed to Faucheryand was beginning at last to find the presence of his wife's husbandinfinitely advantageous to him. He would leave all the littlehousehold cares to the journalist and would trust him in the activesuperintendence of all their affairs. Nay, he devoted the money gainedby his dramatic successes to the daily expenditure of the family, andas, on his part, Fauchery behaved sensibly, avoiding ridiculous jealousyand proving not less pliant than Mignon himself whenever Rose found heropportunity, the mutual understanding between the two men constantlyimproved. In fact, they were happy in a partnership which was so fertilein all kinds of amenities, and they settled down side by side andadopted a family arrangement which no longer proved a stumbling block. The whole thing was conducted according to rule; it suited admirably, and each man vied with the other in his efforts for the commonhappiness. That very evening Mignon had come by Fauchery's advice to seeif he could not steal Nana's lady's maid from her, the journalist havingformed a high opinion of the woman's extraordinary intelligence. Rosewas in despair; for a month past she had been falling into the hands ofinexperienced girls who were causing her continual embarrassment. WhenZoe received him at the door he forthwith pushed her into the diningroom. But at his opening sentence she smiled. The thing was impossible, she said, for she was leaving Madame and establishing herself on her ownaccount. And she added with an expression of discreet vanity that shewas daily receiving offers, that the ladies were fighting for her andthat Mme Blanche would give a pile of gold to have her back. 

Zoe was taking the Tricon's establishment. It was an old project and hadbeen long brooded over. It was her ambition to make her fortune thereby, and she was investing all her savings in it. She was full of great ideasand meditated increasing the business and hiring a house and combiningall the delights within its walls. It was with this in view that she hadtried to entice Satin, a little pig at that moment dying in hospital, soterribly had she done for herself. 

Mignon still insisted with his offer and spoke of the risks run in thecommercial life, but Zoe, without entering into explanations about theexact nature of her establishment, smiled a pinched smile, as though shehad just put a sweetmeat in her mouth, and was content to remark:

"Oh, luxuries always pay. You see, I've been with others quite longenough, and now I want others to be with me. "

And a fierce look set her lip curling. At last she would be "Madame, "and for the sake of earning a few louis all those women whose slops shehad emptied during the last fifteen years would prostrate themselvesbefore her. 

Mignon wished to be announced, and Zoe left him for a moment afterremarking that Madame had passed a miserable day. He had only been atthe house once before, and he did not know it at all. The dining roomwith its Gobelin tapestry, its sideboard and its plate filled him withastonishment. He opened the doors familiarly and visited the drawingroom and the winter garden, returning thence into the hall. Thisoverwhelming luxury, this gilded furniture, these silks and velvets, gradually filled him with such a feeling of admiration that it set hisheart beating. When Zoe came down to fetch him she offered to show himthe other rooms, the dressing room, that is to say, and the bedroom. Inthe latter Mignon's feelings overcame him; he was carried away by them;they filled him with tender enthusiasm. 

That damned Nana was simply stupefying him, and yet he thought he knewa thing or two. Amid the downfall of the house and the servants' wild, wasteful race to destruction, massed-up riches still filled every gapinghole and overtopped every ruined wall. And Mignon, as he viewed thislordly monument of wealth, began recalling to mind the various greatworks he had seen. Near Marseilles they had shown him an aqueduct, thestone arches of which bestrode an abyss, a Cyclopean work which costmillions of money and ten years of intense labor. At Cherbourg he hadseen the new harbor with its enormous works, where hundreds of mensweated in the sun while cranes filled the sea with huge squares of rockand built up a wall where a workman now and again remained crushed intobloody pulp. But all that now struck him as insignificant. Nana excitedhim far more. Viewing the fruit of her labors, he once more experiencedthe feelings of respect that had overcome him one festal evening in asugar refiner's chateau. This chateau had been erected for the refiner, and its palatial proportions and royal splendor had been paid for by asingle material--sugar. It was with something quite different, witha little laughable folly, a little delicate nudity--it was with thisshameful trifle, which is so powerful as to move the universe, that shealone, without workmen, without the inventions of engineers, had shakenParis to its foundations and had built up a fortune on the bodies ofdead men. 

"Oh, by God, what an implement!"

Mignon let the words escape him in his ecstasy, for he felt a return ofpersonal gratitude. 

Nana had gradually lapsed into a most mournful condition. To begin with, the meeting of the marquis and the count had given her a severe fitof feverish nervousness, which verged at times on laughter. Then thethought of this old man going away half dead in a cab and of her poorrough, whom she would never set eyes on again now that she had drivenhim so wild, brought on what looked like the beginnings of melancholia. After that she grew vexed to hear about Satin's illness. The girlhad disappeared about a fortnight ago and was now ready to die atLariboisiere, to such a damnable state had Mme Robert reduced her. Whenshe ordered the horses to be put to in order that she might have a lastsight of this vile little wretch Zoe had just quietly given her a week'snotice. The announcement drove her to desperation at once! It seemed toher she was losing a member of her own family. Great heavens! What wasto become of her when left alone? And she besought Zoe to stay, and thelatter, much flattered by Madame's despair, ended by kissing her to showthat she was not going away in anger. No, she had positively to go: theheart could have no voice in matters of business. 

But that day was one of annoyances. Nana was thoroughly disgusted andgave up the idea of going out. She was dragging herself wearily aboutthe little drawing room when Labordette came up to tell her of asplendid chance of buying magnificent lace and in the course of hisremarks casually let slip the information that Georges was dead. Theannouncement froze her. 

"Zizi dead!" she cried. 

And involuntarily her eyes sought the pink stain on the carpet, butit had vanished at last; passing footsteps had worn it away. MeanwhileLabordette entered into particulars. It was not exactly known how hedied. Some spoke of a wound reopening, others of suicide. The lad hadplunged, they said, into a tank at Les Fondettes. Nana kept repeating:

"Dead! Dead!"

She had been choking with grief since morning, and now she burstout sobbing and thus sought relief. Hers was an infinite sorrow: itoverwhelmed her with its depth and immensity. Labordette wanted tocomfort her as touching Georges, but she silenced him with a gesture andblurted out:

"It isn't only he; it's everything, everything. I'm very wretched. Ohyes, I know! They'll again be saying I'm a hussy. To think of the mothermourning down there and of the poor man who was groaning in front of mydoor this morning and of all the other people that are now ruined afterrunning through all they had with me! That's it; punish Nana; punish thebeastly thing! Oh, I've got a broad back! I can hear them as if I wereactually there! 'That dirty wench who lies with everybody and cleansout some and drives others to death and causes a whole heap of peoplepain!'"

She was obliged to pause, for tears choked her utterance, and in heranguish she flung herself athwart a divan and buried her face in acushion. The miseries she felt to be around her, miseries of whichshe was the cause, overwhelmed her with a warm, continuous stream ofself-pitying tears, and her voice failed as she uttered a little girl'sbroken plaint:

"Oh, I'm wretched! Oh, I'm wretched! I can't go on like this: it'schoking me. It's too hard to be misunderstood and to see them all sidingagainst you because they're stronger. However, when you've got nothingto reproach yourself with and your conscious is clear, why, then I say, 'I won't have it! I won't have it!'"

In her anger she began rebeling against circumstances, and getting up, she dried her eyes, and walked about in much agitation. 

"I won't have it! They can say what they like, but it's not my fault! AmI a bad lot, eh? I give away all I've got; I wouldn't crush a fly! It'sthey who are bad! Yes, it's they! I never wanted to be horrid to them. And they came dangling after me, and today they're kicking the bucketand begging and going to ruin on purpose. "

Then she paused in front of Labordette and tapped his shoulders. 

"Look here, " she said, "you were there all along; now speak the truth:did I urge them on? Weren't there always a dozen of 'em squabbling whocould invent the dirtiest trick? They used to disgust me, they did! Idid all I knew not to copy them: I was afraid to. Look here, I'll giveyou a single instance: they all wanted to marry me! A pretty notion, eh?Yes, dear boy, I could have been countess or baroness a dozen timesover and more, if I'd consented. Well now, I refused because I wasreasonable. Oh yes, I saved 'em some crimes and other foul acts! They'dhave stolen, murdered, killed father and mother. I had only to say oneword, and I didn't say it. You see what I've got for it today. There'sDaguenet, for instance; I married that chap off! I made a position forthe beggarly fellow after keeping him gratis for weeks! And I met himyesterday, and he looks the other way! Oh, get along, you swine! I'mless dirty than you!"

She had begun pacing about again, and now she brought her fist violentlydown on a round table. 

"By God it isn't fair! Society's all wrong. They come down on the womenwhen it's the men who want you to do things. Yes, I can tell you thisnow: when I used to go with them--see? I didn't enjoy it; no, I didn'tenjoy it one bit. It bored me, on my honor. Well then, I ask you whetherI've got anything to do with it! Yes, they bored me to death! If ithadn't been for them and what they made of me, dear boy, I should bein a convent saying my prayers to the good God, for I've always had myshare of religion. Dash it, after all, if they have dropped their moneyand their lives over it, what do I care? It's their fault. I've hadnothing to do with it!"

"Certainly not, " said Labordette with conviction. 

Zoe ushered in Mignon, and Nana received him smilingly. She had crieda good deal, but it was all over now. Still glowing with enthusiasm, hecomplimented her on her installation, but she let him see that she hadhad enough of her mansion and that now she had other projects and wouldsell everything up one of these days. Then as he excused himself forcalling on the ground that he had come about a benefit performancein aid of old Bose, who was tied to his armchair by paralysis, sheexpressed extreme pity and took two boxes. Meanwhile Zoe announced thatthe carriage was waiting for Madame, and she asked for her hat and asshe tied the strings told them about poor, dear Satin's mishap, adding:

"I'm going to the hospital. Nobody ever loved me as she did. Oh, they'requite right when they accuse the men of heartlessness! Who knows?Perhaps I shan't see her alive. Never mind, I shall ask to see her: Iwant to give her a kiss. "

Labordette and Mignon smiled, and as Nana was no longer melancholy shesmiled too. Those two fellows didn't count; they could enter into herfeelings. And they both stood and admired her in silent abstractionwhile she finished buttoning her gloves. She alone kept her feet amidthe heaped-up riches of her mansion, while a whole generation of men laystricken down before her. Like those antique monsters whose redoubtabledomains were covered with skeletons, she rested her feet on humanskulls. She was ringed round with catastrophes. There was the furiousimmolation of Vandeuvres; the melancholy state of Foucarmont, who waslost in the China seas; the smashup of Steiner, who now had to livelike an honest man; the satisfied idiocy of La Faloise, and the tragicshipwreck of the Muffats. Finally there was the white corpse of Georges, over which Philippe was now watching, for he had come out of prison butyesterday. She had finished her labor of ruin and death. The fly thathad flown up from the ordure of the slums, bringing with it the leavenof social rottenness, had poisoned all these men by merely alighting onthem. It was well done--it was just. She had avenged the beggars andthe wastrels from whose caste she issued. And while, metaphoricallyspeaking, her sex rose in a halo of glory and beamed over prostratevictims like a mounting sun shining brightly over a field of carnage, the actual woman remained as unconscious as a splendid animal, and inher ignorance of her mission was the good-natured courtesan to the last. She was still big; she was still plump; her health was excellent, herspirits capital. But this went for nothing now, for her house struck heras ridiculous. It was too small; it was full of furniture which got inher way. It was a wretched business, and the long and the short ofthe matter was she would have to make a fresh start. In fact, she wasmeditating something much better, and so she went off to kiss Satin forthe last time. She was in all her finery and looked clean and solid andas brand new as if she had never seen service before. 

CHAPTER XIV

Nana suddenly disappeared. It was a fresh plunge, an escapade, a flightinto barbarous regions. Before her departure she had treated herselfto a new sensation: she had held a sale and had made a clean sweep ofeverything--house, furniture, jewelry, nay, even dresses and linen. Prices were cited--the five days' sale produced more than six hundredthousand francs. For the last time Paris had seen her in a fairy piece. It was called Melusine, and it played at the Theatre de la Gaite, whichthe penniless Bordenave had taken out of sheer audacity. Here she againfound herself in company with Prulliere and Fontan. Her part was simplyspectacular, but it was the great attraction of the piece, consisting, as it did, of three POSES PLASTIQUES, each of which represented the samedumb and puissant fairy. Then one fine morning amid his grand success, when Bordenave, who was mad after advertisement, kept firing theParisian imagination with colossal posters, it became known that shemust have started for Cairo the previous day. She had simply had a fewwords with her manager. Something had been said which did not pleaseher; the whole thing was the caprice of a woman who is too rich to letherself be annoyed. Besides, she had indulged an old infatuation, forshe had long meditated visiting the Turks. 

Months passed--she began to be forgotten. When her name was mentionedamong the ladies and gentlemen, the strangest stories were told, andeverybody gave the most contradictory and at the same time prodigiousinformation. She had made a conquest of the viceroy; she was reigning, in the recesses of a palace, over two hundred slaves whose heads she nowand then cut off for the sake of a little amusement. No, not at all! Shehad ruined herself with a great big nigger! A filthy passion this, whichhad left her wallowing without a chemise to her back in the crapulousdebauchery of Cairo. A fortnight later much astonishment was producedwhen someone swore to having met her in Russia. A legend began tobe formed: she was the mistress of a prince, and her diamonds werementioned. All the women were soon acquainted with them from the currentdescriptions, but nobody could cite the precise source of all thisinformation. There were finger rings, earrings, bracelets, a REVIERE ofphenomenal width, a queenly diadem surmounted by a central brilliant thesize of one's thumb. In the retirement of those faraway countries shebegan to gleam forth as mysteriously as a gem-laden idol. People nowmentioned her without laughing, for they were full of meditative respectfor this fortune acquired among the barbarians. 

One evening in July toward eight o'clock, Lucy, while getting out of hercarriage in the Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honore, noticed CarolineHequet, who had come out on foot to order something at a neighboringtradesman's. Lucy called her and at once burst out with:

"Have you dined? Are you disengaged? Oh, then come with me, my dear. Nana's back. "

The other got in at once, and Lucy continued:

"And you know, my dear, she may be dead while we're gossiping. "

"Dead! What an idea!" cried Caroline in stupefaction. "And where is she?And what's it of?"

"At the Grand Hotel, of smallpox. Oh, it's a long story!"

Lucy had bidden her coachman drive fast, and while the horses trottedrapidly along the Rue Royale and the boulevards, she told what hadhappened to Nana in jerky, breathless sentences. 

"You can't imagine it. Nana plumps down out of Russia. I don't knowwhy--some dispute with her prince. She leaves her traps at the station;she lands at her aunt's--you remember the old thing. Well, and then shefinds her baby dying of smallpox. The baby dies next day, and she has arow with the aunt about some money she ought to have sent, of which theother one has never seen a sou. Seems the child died of that: in fact, it was neglected and badly cared for. Very well; Nana slopes, goes to ahotel, then meets Mignon just as she was thinking of her traps. She hasall sorts of queer feelings, shivers, wants to be sick, and Mignon takesher back to her place and promises to look after her affairs. Isn't itodd, eh? Doesn't it all happen pat? But this is the best part of thestory: Rose finds out about Nana's illness and gets indignant at theidea of her being alone in furnished apartments. So she rushes off, crying, to look after her. You remember how they used to detest oneanother--like regular furies! Well then, my dear, Rose has had Nanatransported to the Grand Hotel, so that she should, at any rate, die ina smart place, and now she's already passed three nights there andis free to die of it after. It's Labordette who told me all about it. Accordingly I wanted to see for myself--"

"Yes, yes, " interrupted Caroline in great excitement "We'll go up toher. "

They had arrived at their destination. On the boulevard the coachman hadhad to rein in his horses amid a block of carriages and people on foot. During the day the Corps Legislatif had voted for war, and now a crowdwas streaming down all the streets, flowing along all the pavements, invading the middle of the roadway. Beyond the Madeleine the sun had setbehind a blood-red cloud, which cast a reflection as of a great fire andset the lofty windows flaming. Twilight was falling, and the hour wasoppressively melancholy, for now the avenues were darkening away intothe distance but were not as yet dotted over by the bright sparks of thegas lamps. And among the marching crowds distant voices swelled and grewever louder, and eyes gleamed from pale faces, while a great spreadingwind of anguish and stupor set every head whirling. 

"Here's Mignon, " said Lucy. "He'll give us news. "

Mignon was standing under the vast porch of the Grand Hotel. He lookednervous and was gazing at the crowd. After Lucy's first few questions hegrew impatient and cried out:

"How should I know? These last two days I haven't been able to tear Roseaway from up there. It's getting stupid, when all's said, for her to berisking her life like that! She'll be charming if she gets over it, withholes in her face! It'll suit us to a tee!"

The idea that Rose might lose her beauty was exasperating him. He wasgiving up Nana in the most downright fashion, and he could not in theleast understand these stupid feminine devotions. But Fauchery wascrossing the boulevard, and he, too, came up anxiously and asked fornews. The two men egged each other on. They addressed one anotherfamiliarly in these days. 

"Always the same business, my sonny, " declared Mignon. "You ought to goupstairs; you would force her to follow you. "

"Come now, you're kind, you are!" said the journalist. "Why don't you goupstairs yourself?"

Then as Lucy began asking for Nana's number, they besought her to makeRose come down; otherwise they would end by getting angry. 

Nevertheless, Lucy and Caroline did not go up at once. They had caughtsight of Fontan strolling about with his hands in his pockets andgreatly amused by the quaint expressions of the mob. When he becameaware that Nana was lying ill upstairs he affected sentiment andremarked:

"The poor girl! I'll go and shake her by the hand. What's the matterwith her, eh?"

"Smallpox, " replied Mignon. 

The actor had already taken a step or two in the direction of the court, but he came back and simply murmured with a shiver:

"Oh, damn it!"

The smallpox was no joke. Fontan had been near having it when he wasfive years old, while Mignon gave them an account of one of his nieceswho had died of it. As to Fauchery, he could speak of it from personalexperience, for he still bore marks of it in the shape of three littlelumps at the base of his nose, which he showed them. And when Mignonagain egged him on to the ascent, on the pretext that you never had ittwice, he violently combated this theory and with infinite abuse of thedoctors instanced various cases. But Lucy and Caroline interrupted them, for the growing multitude filled them with astonishment. 

"Just look! Just look what a lot of people!" The night was deepening, and in the distance the gas lamps were being lit one by one. Meanwhileinterested spectators became visible at windows, while under thetrees the human flood grew every minute more dense, till it ran in oneenormous stream from the Madeleine to the Bastille. Carriages rolledslowly along. A roaring sound went up from this compact and as yetinarticulate mass. Each member of it had come out, impelled by thedesire to form a crowd, and was now trampling along, steeping himselfin the pervading fever. But a great movement caused the mob to flowasunder. Among the jostling, scattering groups a band of men inworkmen's caps and white blouses had come in sight, uttering arhythmical cry which suggested the beat of hammers upon an anvil. 

"To Ber-lin! To Ber-lin! To Ber-lin!" And the crowd stared in gloomydistrust yet felt themselves already possessed and inspired by heroicimaginings, as though a military band were passing. 

"Oh yes, go and get your throats cut!" muttered Mignon, overcome by anaccess of philosophy. 

But Fontan thought it very fine, indeed, and spoke of enlisting. Whenthe enemy was on the frontier all citizens ought to rise up in defenseof the fatherland! And with that he assumed an attitude suggestive ofBonaparte at Austerlitz. 

"Look here, are you coming up with us?" Lucy asked him. 

"Oh dear, no! To catch something horrid?" he said. 

On a bench in front of the Grand Hotel a man sat hiding his face in ahandkerchief. On arriving Fauchery had indicated him to Mignon with awink of the eye. Well, he was still there; yes, he was always there. Andthe journalist detained the two women also in order to point him out tothem. When the man lifted his head they recognized him; an exclamationescaped them. It was the Count Muffat, and he was giving an upwardglance at one of the windows. 

"You know, he's been waiting there since this morning, " Mignon informedthem. "I saw him at six o'clock, and he hasn't moved since. DirectlyLabordette spoke about it he came there with his handkerchief up to hisface. Every half-hour he comes dragging himself to where we're standingto ask if the person upstairs is doing better, and then he goes back andsits down. Hang it, that room isn't healthy! It's all very well beingfond of people, but one doesn't want to kick the bucket. "

The count sat with uplifted eyes and did not seem conscious of what wasgoing on around him. Doubtless he was ignorant of the declaration ofwar, and he neither felt nor saw the crowd. 

"Look, here he comes!" said Fauchery. "Now you'll see. "

The count had, in fact, quitted his bench and was entering the loftyporch. But the porter, who was getting to know his face at last, did notgive him time to put his question. He said sharply:

"She's dead, monsieur, this very minute. "

Nana dead! It was a blow to them all. Without a word Muffat had goneback to the bench, his face still buried in his handkerchief. The othersburst into exclamations, but they were cut short, for a fresh bandpassed by, howling, "A BERLIN! A BERLIN! A BERLIN!" Nana dead! Hang it, and such a fine girl too! Mignon sighed and looked relieved, for at lastRose would come down. A chill fell on the company. Fontan, meditating atragic role, had assumed a look of woe and was drawing down the cornersof his mouth and rolling his eyes askance, while Fauchery chewed hiscigar nervously, for despite his cheap journalistic chaff he was reallytouched. Nevertheless, the two women continued to give vent to theirfeelings of surprise. The last time Lucy had seen her was at the Gaite;Blanche, too, had seen her in Melusine. Oh, how stunning it was, mydear, when she appeared in the depths of the crystal grot! The gentlemenremembered the occasion perfectly. Fontan had played the PrinceCocorico. And their memories once stirred up, they launched intointerminable particulars. How ripping she looked with that rich coloringof hers in the crystal grot! Didn't she, now? She didn't say a word:the authors had even deprived her of a line or two, because it wassuperfluous. No, never a word! It was grander that way, and she droveher public wild by simply showing herself. You wouldn't find anotherbody like hers! Such shoulders as she had, and such legs and such afigure! Strange that she should be dead! You know, above her tights shehad nothing on but a golden girdle which hardly concealed her behind andin front. All round her the grotto, which was entirely of glass, shonelike day. Cascades of diamonds were flowing down; strings of brilliantpearls glistened among the stalactites in the vault overhead, and amidthe transparent atmosphere and flowing fountain water, which was crossedby a wide ray of electric light, she gleamed like the sun with thatflamelike skin and hair of hers. Paris would always picture herthus--would see her shining high up among crystal glass like thegood God Himself. No, it was too stupid to let herself die under suchconditions! She must be looking pretty by this time in that room upthere!

"And what a lot of pleasures bloody well wasted!" said Mignon inmelancholy tones, as became a man who did not like to see good anduseful things lost. 

He sounded Lucy and Caroline in order to find out if they were going upafter all. Of course they were going up; their curiosity had increased. Just then Blanche arrived, out of breath and much exasperated at the waythe crowds were blocking the pavement, and when she heard the newsthere was a fresh outburst of exclamations, and with a great rustlingof skirts the ladies moved toward the staircase. Mignon followed them, crying out:

"Tell Rose that I'm waiting for her. She'll come at once, eh?"

"They do not exactly know whether the contagion is to be feared atthe beginning or near the end, " Fontan was explaining to Fauchery. "Amedical I know was assuring me that the hours immediately followingdeath are particularly dangerous. There are miasmatic exhalations then. Ah, but I do regret this sudden ending; I should have been so glad toshake hands with her for the last time. 

"What good would it do you now?" said the journalist. 

"Yes, what good?" the two others repeated. 

The crowd was still on the increase. In the bright light thrown fromshop-windows and beneath the wavering glare of the gas two livingstreams were distinguishable as they flowed along the pavement, innumerable hats apparently drifting on their surface. At that hourthe popular fever was gaining ground rapidly, and people were flingingthemselves in the wake of the bands of men in blouses. A constantforward movement seemed to sweep the roadway, and the cry keptrecurring; obstinately, abruptly, there rang from thousands of throats:

"A BERLIN! A BERLIN! A BERLIN!"

The room on the fourth floor upstairs cost twelve francs a day, since Rose had wanted something decent and yet not luxurious, forsumptuousness is not necessary when one is suffering. Hung with LouisXIII cretonne, which was adorned with a pattern of large flowers, theroom was furnished with the mahogany commonly found in hotels. Onthe floor there was a red carpet variegated with black foliage. Heavysilence reigned save for an occasional whispering sound caused by voicesin the corridor. 

"I assure you we're lost. The waiter told us to turn to the right. Whata barrack of a house!"

"Wait a bit; we must have a look. Room number 401; room number 401!"

"Oh, it's this way: 405, 403. We ought to be there. Ah, at last, 401!This way! Hush now, hush!"

The voices were silent. Then there was a slight coughing and a moment orso of mental preparation. Then the door opened slowly, and Lucy entered, followed by Caroline and Blanche. But they stopped directly; there werealready five women in the room; Gaga was lying back in the solitaryarmchair, which was a red velvet Voltaire. In front of the fireplaceSimonne and Clarisse were now standing talking to Lea de Horn, who wasseated, while by the bed, to the left of the door, Rose Mignon, perchedon the edge of a chest, sat gazing fixedly at the body where it layhidden in the shadow of the curtains. All the others had their hats andgloves on and looked as if they were paying a call: she alone sat therewith bare hands and untidy hair and cheeks rendered pale by three nightsof watching. She felt stupid in the face of this sudden death, and hereyes were swollen with weeping. A shaded lamp standing on the corner ofthe chest of drawers threw a bright flood of light over Gaga. 

"What a sad misfortune, is it not?" whispered Lucy as she shook handswith Rose. "We wanted to bid her good-by. "

And she turned round and tried to catch sight of her, but the lampwas too far off, and she did not dare bring it nearer. On the bed laystretched a gray mass, but only the ruddy chignon was distinguishableand a pale blotch which might be the face. Lucy added:

"I never saw her since that time at the Gaite, when she was at the endof the grotto. "

At this Rose awoke from her stupor and smiled as she said:

"Ah, she's changed; she's changed. "

Then she once more lapsed into contemplation and neither moved norspoke. Perhaps they would be able to look at her presently! And withthat the three women joined the others in front of the fireplace. Simonne and Clarisse were discussing the dead woman's diamonds in lowtones. Well, did they really exist--those diamonds? Nobody had seenthem; it must be a bit of humbug. But Lea de Horn knew someone who knewall about them. Oh, they were monster stones! Besides, they weren'tall; she had brought back lots of other precious property fromRussia--embroidered stuffs, for instance, valuable knickknacks, a golddinner service, nay, even furniture. "Yes, my dear, fifty-two boxes, enormous cases some of them, three truckloads of them!" They were alllying at the station. "Wasn't it hard lines, eh?--to die withouteven having time to unpack one's traps?" Then she had a lot of tin, besides--something like a million! Lucy asked who was going to inheritit all. Oh, distant relations--the aunt, without doubt! It would be apretty surprise for that old body. She knew nothing about it yet, forthe sick woman had obstinately refused to let them warn her, for shestill owed her a grudge over her little boy's death. Thereupon they wereall moved to pity about the little boy, and they remembered seeing himat the races. Oh, it was a wretchedly sickly baby; it looked so old andso sad. In fact, it was one of those poor brats who never asked to beborn!

"He's happier under the ground, " said Blanche. 

"Bah, and so's she!" added Caroline. "Life isn't so funny!"

In that gloomy room melancholy ideas began to take possession of theirimaginations. They felt frightened. It was silly to stand talking solong, but a longing to see her kept them rooted to the spot. It wasvery hot--the lamp glass threw a round, moonlike patch of light upon theceiling, but the rest of the room was drowned in steamy darkness. Underthe bed a deep plate full of phenol exhaled an insipid smell. And everyfew moments tiny gusts of wind swelled the window curtains. The windowopened on the boulevard, whence rose a dull roaring sound. 

"Did she suffer much?" asked Lucy, who was absorbed in contemplationof the clock, the design of which represented the three Graces as nudeyoung women, smiling like opera dancers. 

Gaga seemed to wake up. 

"My word, yes! I was present when she died. I promise you it was not atall pleasant to see. Why, she was taken with a shuddering fit--"

But she was unable to proceed with her explanation, for a cry aroseoutside:

"A BERLIN! A BERLIN! A BERLIN!"

And Lucy, who felt suffocated, flung wide the window and leaned uponthe sill. It was pleasant there; the air came fresh from the starry sky. Opposite her the windows were all aglow with light, and the gas sentdancing reflections over the gilt lettering of the shop signs. 

Beneath these, again, a most amusing scene presented itself. The streamsof people were discernible rolling torrentwise along the sidewalks andin the roadway, where there was a confused procession of carriages. Everywhere there were vast moving shadows in which lanterns andlampposts gleamed like sparks. But the band which now came roaring bycarried torches, and a red glow streamed down from the direction of theMadeleine, crossed the mob like a trail of fire and spread out over theheads in the distance like a vivid reflection of a burning house. Lucycalled Blanche and Caroline, forgetting where she was and shouting:

"Do come! You get a capital view from this window!"

They all three leaned out, greatly interested. The trees got in theirway, and occasionally the torches disappeared under the foliage. Theytried to catch a glimpse of the men of their own party below, but aprotruding balcony hid the door, and they could only make out CountMuffat, who looked like a dark parcel thrown down on the bench where hesat. He was still burying his face in his handkerchief. A carriagehad stopped in front, and yet another woman hurried up, in whom Lucyrecognized Maria Blond. She was not alone; a stout man got down afterher. 

"It's that thief of a Steiner, " said Caroline. "How is it they haven'tsent him back to Cologne yet? I want to see how he looks when he comesin. "

They turned round, but when after the lapse of ten minutes Maria Blondappeared, she was alone. She had twice mistaken the staircase. And whenLucy, in some astonishment, questioned her:

"What, he?" she said. "My dear, don't you go fancying that he'll comeupstairs! It's a great wonder he's escorted me as far as the door. Thereare nearly a dozen of them smoking cigars. "

As a matter of fact, all the gentlemen were meeting downstairs. They hadcome strolling thither in order to have a look at the boulevards, andthey hailed one another and commented loudly on that poor girl's death. Then they began discussing politics and strategy. Bordenave, Daguenet, Labordette, Prulliere and others, besides, had swollen the group, andnow they were all listening to Fontan, who was explaining his plan fortaking Berlin within a week. 

Meanwhile Maria Blond was touched as she stood by the bedside andmurmured, as the others had done before her:

"Poor pet! The last time I saw her was in the grotto at the Gaite. "

"Ah, she's changed; she's changed!" Rose Mignon repeated with a smile ofgloomiest dejection. 

Two more women arrived. These were Tatan Nene and Louise Violaine. They had been wandering about the Grand Hotel for twenty minutes past, bandied from waiter to waiter, and had ascended and descended more thanthirty flights of stairs amid a perfect stampede of travelers whowere hurrying to leave Paris amid the panic caused by the war and theexcitement on the boulevards. Accordingly they just dropped down onchairs when they came in, for they were too tired to think about thedead. At that moment a loud noise came from the room next door, wherepeople were pushing trunks about and striking against furniture to anaccompaniment of strident, outlandish syllables. It was a young Austriancouple, and Gaga told how during her agony the neighbors had played agame of catch as catch can and how, as only an unused door divided thetwo rooms, they had heard them laughing and kissing when one or theother was caught. 

"Come, it's time we were off, " said Clarisse. "We shan't bring her tolife again. Are you coming, Simonne?"

They all looked at the bed out of the corners of their eyes, but theydid not budge an inch. Nevertheless, they began getting ready and gavetheir skirts various little pats. Lucy was again leaning out of window. She was alone now, and a sorrowful feeling began little by little tooverpower her, as though an intense wave of melancholy had mounted upfrom the howling mob. Torches still kept passing, shaking out clouds ofsparks, and far away in the distance the various bands stretched intothe shadows, surging unquietly to and fro like flocks being drivento the slaughterhouse at night. A dizzy feeling emanated from theseconfused masses as the human flood rolled them along--a dizzy feeling, a sense of terror and all the pity of the massacres to come. The peoplewere going wild; their voices broke; they were drunk with a fever ofexcitement which sent them rushing toward the unknown "out there" beyondthe dark wall of the horizon. 

"A BERLIN! A BERLIN! A BERLIN!"

Lucy turned round. She leaned her back against the window, and her facewas very pale. 

"Good God! What's to become of us?"

The ladies shook their heads. They were serious and very anxious aboutthe turn events were taking. 

"For my part, " said Caroline Hequet in her decisive way, "I start forLondon the day after tomorrow. Mamma's already over there getting ahouse ready for me. I'm certainly not going to let myself be massacredin Paris. "

Her mother, as became a prudent woman, had invested all her daughters'money in foreign lands. One never knows how a war may end! But MariaBlond grew vexed at this. She was a patriot and spoke of following thearmy. 

"There's a coward for you! Yes, if they wanted me I should put on man'sclothes just to have a good shot at those pigs of Prussians! And if weall die after? What of that? Our wretched skins aren't so valuable!"

Blanche de Sivry was exasperated. 

"Please don't speak ill of the Prussians! They are just like other men, and they're not always running after the women, like your Frenchmen. They've just expelled the little Prussian who was with me. He was anawfully rich fellow and so gentle: he couldn't have hurt a soul. It'sdisgraceful; I'm ruined by it. And, you know, you mustn't say a word orI go and find him out in Germany!"

After that, while the two were at loggerheads, Gaga began murmuring indolorous tones:

"It's all over with me; my luck's always bad. It's only a week ago thatI finished paying for my little house at Juvisy. Ah, God knows whattrouble it cost me! I had to go to Lili for help! And now here's the wardeclared, and the Prussians'll come and they'll burn everything. How amI to begin again at my time of life, I should like to know?"

"Bah!" said Clarisse. "I don't care a damn about it. I shall always findwhat I want. "

"Certainly you will, " added Simonne. "It'll be a joke. Perhaps, afterall, it'll be good biz. "

And her smile hinted what she thought. Tatan Nene and Louise Violainewere of her opinion. The former told them that she had enjoyed the mostroaring jolly good times with soldiers. Oh, they were good fellows andwould have done any mortal thing for the girls. But as the ladies hadraised their voices unduly Rose Mignon, still sitting on the chest bythe bed, silenced them with a softly whispered "Hush!" They stood quitestill at this and glanced obliquely toward the dead woman, as thoughthis request for silence had emanated from the very shadows of thecurtains. In the heavy, peaceful stillness which ensued, a void, deathly stillness which made them conscious of the stiff dead body lyingstretched close by them, the cries of the mob burst forth:

"A BERLIN! A BERLIN! A BERLIN!"

But soon they forgot. Lea de Horn, who had a political salon whereformer ministers of Louis Philippe were wont to indulge in delicateepigrams, shrugged her shoulders and continued the conversation in a lowtone:

"What a mistake this war is! What a bloodthirsty piece of stupidity!"

At this Lucy forthwith took up the cudgels for the empire. She had beenthe mistress of a prince of the imperial house, and its defense became apoint of family honor with her. 

"Do leave them alone, my dear. We couldn't let ourselves be furtherinsulted! Why, this war concerns the honor of France. Oh, you know Idon't say that because of the prince. He WAS just mean! Just imagine, atnight when he was going to bed he hid his gold in his boots, and when weplayed at bezique he used beans, because one day I pounced down on thestakes for fun. But that doesn't prevent my being fair. The emperor wasright. "

Lea shook her head with an air of superiority, as became a woman who wasrepeating the opinions of important personages. Then raising her voice:

"This is the end of all things. They're out of their minds at theTuileries. France ought to have driven them out yesterday. Don't yousee?"

They all violently interrupted her. What was up with her? Was she madabout the emperor? Were people not happy? Was business doing badly?Paris would never enjoy itself so thoroughly again. 

Gaga was beside herself; she woke up and was very indignant. 

"Be quiet! It's idiotic! You don't know what you're saying. I--I've seenLouis Philippe's reign: it was full of beggars and misers, my dear. And then came '48! Oh, it was a pretty disgusting business was theirrepublic! After February I was simply dying of starvation--yes, I, Gaga. Oh, if only you'd been through it all you would go down on your kneesbefore the emperor, for he's been a father to us; yes, a father to us. "

She had to be soothed but continued with pious fervor:

"O my God, do Thy best to give the emperor the victory. Preserve theempire to us!"

They all repeated this aspiration, and Blanche confessed that she burnedcandles for the emperor. Caroline had been smitten by him and for twowhole months had walked where he was likely to pass but had failed toattract his attention. And with that the others burst forth into furiousdenunciations of the Republicans and talked of exterminating them onthe frontiers so that Napoleon III, after having beaten the enemy, mightreign peacefully amid universal enjoyment. 

"That dirty Bismarck--there's another cad for you!" Maria Blondremarked. 

"To think that I should have known him!" cried Simonne. "If only Icould have foreseen, I'm the one that would have put some poison in hisglass. "

But Blanche, on whose heart the expulsion of her Prussian still weighed, ventured to defend Bismarck. Perhaps he wasn't such a bad sort. To everyman his trade!

"You know, " she added, "he adores women. "

"What the hell has that got to do with us?" said Clarisse. "We don'twant to cuddle him, eh?"

"There's always too many men of that sort!" declared Louise Violainegravely. "It's better to do without 'em than to mix oneself up with suchmonsters!"

And the discussion continued, and they stripped Bismarck, and, in herBonapartist zeal, each of them gave him a sounding kick, while TatanNene kept saying:

"Bismarck! Why, they've simply driven me crazy with the chap! Oh, I hatehim! I didn't know that there Bismarck! One can't know everybody. "

"Never mind, " said Lea de Horn by way of conclusion, "that Bismarck willgive us a jolly good threshing. "

But she could not continue. The ladies were all down on her at once. Eh, what? A threshing? It was Bismarck they were going to escort home withblows from the butt ends of their muskets. What was this bad Frenchwomangoing to say next?

"Hush, " whispered Rose, for so much noise hurt her. 

The cold influence of the corpse once more overcame them, and they allpaused together. They were embarrassed; the dead woman was before themagain; a dull thread of coming ill possessed them. On the boulevard thecry was passing, hoarse and wild:

"A BERLIN! A BERLIN! A BERLIN!"

Presently, when they were making up their minds to go, a voice was heardcalling from the passage:

"Rose! Rose!"

Gaga opened the door in astonishment and disappeared for a moment. Whenshe returned:

"My dear, " she said, "it's Fauchery. He's out there at the end of thecorridor. He won't come any further, and he's beside himself because youstill stay near that body. "

Mignon had at last succeeded in urging the journalist upstairs. Lucy, who was still at the window, leaned out and caught sight of thegentlemen out on the pavement. They were looking up, making energeticsignals to her. Mignon was shaking his fists in exasperation, andSteiner, Fontan, Bordenave and the rest were stretching out their armswith looks of anxious reproach, while Daguenet simply stood smoking acigar with his hands behind his back, so as not to compromise himself. 

"It's true, dear, " said Lucy, leaving the window open; "I promised tomake you come down. They're all calling us now. "

Rose slowly and painfully left the chest. 

"I'm coming down; I'm coming down, " she whispered. "It's very certainshe no longer needs me. They're going to send in a Sister of Mercy. "

And she turned round, searching for her hat and shawl. Mechanically shefilled a basin of water on the toilet table and while washing her handsand face continued:

"I don't know! It's been a great blow to me. We used scarcely to be niceto one another. Ah well! You see I'm quite silly over it now. Oh! I'vegot all sorts of strange ideas--I want to die myself--I feel the end ofthe world's coming. Yes, I need air. "

The corpse was beginning to poison the atmosphere of the room. And afterlong heedlessness there ensued a panic. 

"Let's be off; let's be off, my little pets!" Gaga kept saying. "Itisn't wholesome here. "

They went briskly out, casting a last glance at the bed as they passedit. But while Lucy, Blanche and Caroline still remained behind, Rosegave a final look round, for she wanted to leave the room in order. Shedrew a curtain across the window, and then it occurred to her that thelamp was not the proper thing and that a taper should take its place. Soshe lit one of the copper candelabra on the chimney piece and placedit on the night table beside the corpse. A brilliant light suddenlyillumined the dead woman's face. The women were horror-struck. Theyshuddered and escaped. 

"Ah, she's changed; she's changed!" murmured Rose Mignon, who was thelast to remain. 

She went away; she shut the door. Nana was left alone with upturned facein the light cast by the candle. She was fruit of the charnel house, aheap of matter and blood, a shovelful of corrupted flesh thrown down onthe pillow. The pustules had invaded the whole of the face, so that eachtouched its neighbor. Fading and sunken, they had assumed the grayishhue of mud; and on that formless pulp, where the features had ceased tobe traceable, they already resembled some decaying damp from thegrave. One eye, the left eye, had completely foundered among bubblingpurulence, and the other, which remained half open, looked like a deep, black, ruinous hole. The nose was still suppurating. Quite a reddishcrush was peeling from one of the cheeks and invading the mouth, whichit distorted into a horrible grin. And over this loathsome and grotesquemask of death the hair, the beautiful hair, still blazed like sunlightand flowed downward in rippling gold. Venus was rotting. It seemed asthough the poison she had assimilated in the gutters and on the carriontolerated by the roadside, the leaven with which she had poisoneda whole people, had but now remounted to her face and turned it tocorruption. 

The room was empty. A great despairing breath came up from the boulevardand swelled the curtain. 

"A BERLIN! A BERLIN! A BERLIN!"

THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER

CHAPTER I

THE BETROTHAL

Pere Merlier's mill, one beautiful summer evening, was arranged for agrand fete. In the courtyard were three tables, placed end to end, whichawaited the guests. Everyone knew that Francoise, Merlier's daughter, was that night to be betrothed to Dominique, a young man who was accusedof idleness but whom the fair sex for three leagues around gazed at withsparkling eyes, such a fine appearance had he. 

Pere Merlier's mill was pleasing to look upon. It stood exactly in thecenter of Rocreuse, where the highway made an elbow. The village had butone street, with two rows of huts, a row on each side of the road; butat the elbow meadows spread out, and huge trees which lined the banks ofthe Morelle covered the extremity of the valley with lordly shade. Therewas not, in all Lorraine, a corner of nature more adorable. To the rightand to the left thick woods, centenarian forests, towered up from gentleslopes, filling the horizon with a sea of verdure, while toward thesouth the plain stretched away, of marvelous fertility, displaying asfar as the eye could reach patches of ground divided by green hedges. But what constituted the special charm of Rocreuse was the coolnessof that cut of verdure in the most sultry days of July and August. TheMorelle descended from the forests of Gagny and seemed to have gatheredthe cold from the foliage beneath which it flowed for leagues; itbrought with it the murmuring sounds, the icy and concentrated shadeof the woods. And it was not the sole source of coolness: all sorts offlowing streams gurgled through the forest; at each step springs bubbledup; one felt, on following the narrow pathways, that there must existsubterranean lakes which pierced through beneath the moss and availedthemselves of the smallest crevices at the feet of trees or between therocks to burst forth in crystalline fountains. The whispering voices ofthese brooks were so numerous and so loud that they drowned the song ofthe bullfinches. It was like some enchanted park with cascades fallingfrom every portion. 

Below the meadows were damp. Gigantic chestnut trees cast dark shadows. On the borders of the meadows long hedges of poplars exhibited in linestheir rustling branches. Two avenues of enormous plane trees stretchedacross the fields toward the ancient Chateau de Gagny, then a massof ruins. In this constantly watered district the grass grew to anextraordinary height. It resembled a garden between two wooded hills, a natural garden, of which the meadows were the lawns, the giant treesmarking the colossal flower beds. When the sun's rays at noon pouredstraight downward the shadows assumed a bluish tint; scorched grassslept in the heat, while an icy shiver passed beneath the foliage. 

And there it was that Pere Merlier's mill enlivened with its ticktacka corner of wild verdure. The structure, built of plaster and planks, seemed as old as the world. It dipped partially in the Morelle, whichrounded at that point into a transparent basin. A sluice had been made, and the water fell from a height of several meters upon the mill wheel, which cracked as it turned, with the asthmatic cough of a faithfulservant grown old in the house. When Pere Merlier was advised to changeit he shook his head, saying that a new wheel would be lazier and wouldnot so well understand the work, and he mended the old one with whateverhe could put his hands on: cask staves, rusty iron, zinc and lead. Thewheel appeared gayer than ever for it, with its profile grown odd, allplumed with grass and moss. When the water beat upon it with its silveryflood it was covered with pearls; its strange carcass wore a sparklingattire of necklaces of mother-of-pearl. 

The part of the mill which dipped in the Morelle had the air of abarbaric arch stranded there. A full half of the structure was built onpiles. The water flowed beneath the floor, and deep places were there, renowned throughout the district for the enormous eels and crayfishcaught in them. Below the fall the basin was as clear as a mirror, andwhen the wheel did not cover it with foam schools of huge fish could beseen swimming with the slowness of a squadron. Broken steps led downto the river near a stake to which a boat was moored. A wooden gallerypassed above the wheel. Windows opened, pierced irregularly. It was apell-mell of corners, of little walls, of constructions added toolate, of beams and of roofs, which gave the mill the aspect of an old, dismantled citadel. But ivy had grown; all sorts of clinging plantsstopped the too-wide chinks and threw a green cloak over the ancientbuilding. The young ladies who passed by sketched Pere Merlier's mill intheir albums. 

On the side facing the highway the structure was more solid. A stonegateway opened upon the wide courtyard, which was bordered to the rightand to the left by sheds and stables. Beside a well an immense elmcovered half the courtyard with its shadow. In the background thebuilding displayed the four windows of its second story, surmounted bya pigeon house. Pere Merlier's sole vanity was to have this frontplastered every ten years. It had just received a new coating anddazzled the village when the sun shone on it at noon. 

For twenty years Pere Merlier had been mayor of Rocreuse. He wasesteemed for the fortune he had acquired. His wealth was estimatedat something like eighty thousand francs, amassed sou by sou. When hemarried Madeleine Guillard, who brought him the mill as her dowry, hepossessed only his two arms. But Madeleine never repented of her choice, so briskly did he manage the business. Now his wife was dead, and heremained a widower with his daughter Francoise. Certainly he might haverested, allowed the mill wheel to slumber in the moss, but that wouldhave been too dull for him, and in his eyes the building would haveseemed dead. He toiled on for pleasure. 

Pere Merlier was a tall old man with a long, still face, who neverlaughed but who possessed, notwithstanding, a very gay heart. He hadbeen chosen mayor because of his money and also on account of theimposing air he could assume during a marriage ceremony. 

Francoise Merlier was just eighteen. She did not pass for one ofthe handsome girls of the district, as she was not robust. Up to herfifteenth year she had been even ugly. 

The Rocreuse people had not been able to understand why the daughter ofPere and Mere Merlier, both of whom had always enjoyed excellent health, grew ill and with an air of regret. But at fifteen, though yet delicate, her little face became one of the prettiest in the world. She had blackhair, black eyes, and was as rosy as a peach; her lips constantly worea smile; there were dimples in her cheeks, and her fair forehead seemedcrowned with sunlight. Although not considered robust in the district, she was far from thin; the idea was simply that she could not lift asack of grain, but she would become plump as she grew older--she wouldeventually be as round and dainty as a quail. Her father's long periodsof silence had made her thoughtful very young. If she smiled constantlyit was to please others. By nature she was serious. 

Of course all the young men of the district paid court to her, moreon account of her ecus than her pretty ways. At last she made a choicewhich scandalized the community. 

On the opposite bank of the Morelle lived a tall youth named DominiquePenquer. He did not belong to Rocreuse. Ten years before he had arrivedfrom Belgium as the heir of his uncle, who had left him a small propertyupon the very border of the forest of Gagny, just opposite the mill, afew gunshots distant. He had come to sell this property, he said, andreturn home. But the district charmed him, it appeared, for he didnot quit it. He was seen cultivating his little field, gathering a fewvegetables upon which he subsisted. He fished and hunted; many timesthe forest guards nearly caught him and were on the point of drawing upproces-verbaux against him. This free existence, the resources ofwhich the peasants could not clearly discover, at length gave him a badreputation. He was vaguely styled a poacher. At any rate, he was lazy, for he was often found asleep on the grass when he should have been atwork. The hut he inhabited beneath the last trees on the edge of theforest did not seem at all like the dwelling of an honest young fellow. If he had had dealings with the wolves of the ruins of Gagny the oldwomen would not have been the least bit surprised. Nevertheless, theyoung girls sometimes risked defending him, for this doubtful man wassuperb; supple and tall as a poplar, he had a very white skin, withflaxen hair and beard which gleamed like gold in the sun. 

One fine morning Francoise declared to Pere Merlier that she lovedDominique and would never wed any other man. 

It may well be imagined what a blow this was to Pere Merlier. He saidnothing, according to his custom, but his face grew thoughtful and hisinternal gaiety no longer sparkled in his eyes. He looked gruff for aweek. Francoise also was exceedingly grave. What tormented Pere Merlierwas to find out how this rogue of a poacher had managed to fascinate hisdaughter. Dominique had never visited the mill. The miller watched andsaw the gallant on the other side of the Morelle, stretched out uponthe grass and feigning to be asleep. Francoise could see him from herchamber window. Everything was plain: they had fallen in love by castingsheep's eyes at each other over the mill wheel. 

Another week went by. Francoise became more and more grave. Pere Merlierstill said nothing. Then one evening he himself silently brought inDominique. Francoise at that moment was setting the table. She did notseem astonished; she contented herself with putting on an additionalplate, knife and fork, but the little dimples were again seen in hercheeks, and her smile reappeared. That morning Pere Merlier had soughtout Dominique in his hut on the border of the wood. 

There the two men had talked for three hours with doors and windowsclosed. What was the purport of their conversation no one ever knew. Certain it was, however, that Pere Merlier, on taking his departure, already called Dominique his son-in-law. Without doubt the old man hadfound the youth he had gone to seek a worthy youth in the lazy fellowwho stretched himself out upon the grass to make the girls fall in lovewith him. 

All Rocreuse clamored. The women at the doors had plenty to say onthe subject of the folly of Pere Merlier, who had thus introduced areprobate into his house. The miller let people talk on. Perhapshe remembered his own marriage. He was without a sou when he weddedMadeleine and her mill; this, however, had not prevented him from makinga good husband. Besides, Dominique cut short the gossip by going sovigorously to work that all the district was amazed. The miller'sassistant had just been drawn to serve as a soldier, and Dominique wouldnot suffer another to be engaged. He carried the sacks, drove the cart, fought with the old mill wheel when it refused to turn, and all thiswith such good will that people came to see him out of curiosity. PereMerlier had his silent laugh. He was excessively proud of having formeda correct estimate of this youth. There is nothing like love to givecourage to young folks. Amid all these heavy labors Francoise andDominique adored each other. They did not indulge in lovers' talks, butthere was a smiling gentleness in their glances. 

Up to that time Pere Merlier had not spoken a single word on the subjectof marriage, and they respected this silence, awaiting the old man'swill. Finally one day toward the middle of July he caused three tablesto be placed in the courtyard, beneath the great elm, and invited hisfriends of Rocreuse to come in the evening and drink a glass of winewith him. 

When the courtyard was full and all had their glasses in their hands, Pere Merlier raised his very high and said:

"I have the pleasure to announce to you that Francoise will wed thisyoung fellow here in a month, on Saint Louis's Day. "

Then they drank noisily. Everybody smiled. But Pere Merlier, againlifting his voice, exclaimed:

"Dominique, embrace your fiancee. It is your right. "

They embraced, blushing to the tips of their ears, while all the guestslaughed joyously. It was a genuine fete. They emptied a small cask ofwine. Then when all were gone but intimate friends the conversation wascarried on without noise. The night had fallen, a starry and cloudlessnight. Dominique and Francoise, seated side by side on a bench, saidnothing. 

An old peasant spoke of the war the emperor had declared againstPrussia. All the village lads had already departed. On the preceding daytroops had again passed through the place. There was going to be hardfighting. 

"Bah!" said Pere Merlier with the selfishness of a happy man. "Dominiqueis a foreigner; he will not go to the war. And if the Prussians comehere he will be on hand to defend his wife!"

The idea that the Prussians might come there seemed a good joke. Theywere going to receive a sound whipping, and the affair would soon beover. 

"I have afready seen them; I have already seen them, " repeated the oldpeasant in a hollow voice. 

There was silence. Then they drank again. Francoise and Dominique hadheard nothing; they had gently taken each other by the hand behind thebench, so that nobody could see them, and it seemed so delightful thatthey remained where they were, their eyes plunged into the depths of theshadows. 

What a warm and superb night it was! The village slumbered on both edgesof the white highway in infantile quietude. From time to time was heardthe crowing of some chanticleer aroused too soon. From the huge woodnear by came long breaths, which passed over the roofs like caresses. The meadows, with their dark shadows, assumed a mysterious and dreamymajesty, while all the springs, all the flowing waters which gurgled inthe darkness, seemed to be the cool and rhythmical respiration of thesleeping country. Occasionally the ancient mill wheel, lost in a doze, appeared to dream like those old watchdogs that bark while snoring; itcracked; it talked to itself, rocked by the fall of the Morelle, thesurface of which gave forth the musical and continuous sound of an organpipe. Never had more profound peace descended upon a happier corner ofnature. 

CHAPTER II

THE ATTACK ON THE MILL

A month later, on the day preceding that of Saint Louis, Rocreuse wasin a state of terror. The Prussians had beaten the emperor and wereadvancing by forced marches toward the village. For a week past peoplewho hurried along the highway had been announcing them thus: "Theyare at Lormiere--they are at Novelles!" And on hearing that they weredrawing near so rapidly, Rocreuse every morning expected to see themdescend from the wood of Gagny. They did not come, however, and thatincreased the fright. They would surely fall upon the village during thenight and slaughter everybody. 

That morning, a little before sunrise, there was an alarm. Theinhabitants were awakened by the loud tramp of men on the highway. Thewomen were already on their knees, making the sign of the cross, whensome of the people, peering cautiously through the partially openedwindows, recognized the red pantaloons. It was a French detachment. Thecaptain immediately asked for the mayor of the district and remained atthe mill after having talked with Pere Merlier. 

The sun rose gaily that morning. It would be hot at noon. Over the woodfloated a golden brightness, while in the distance white vapors arosefrom the meadows. The neat and pretty village awoke amid the fresh air, and the country, with its river and its springs, had the moist sweetnessof a bouquet. But that beautiful day caused nobody to smile. The captainwas seen to take a turn around the mill, examine the neighboring houses, pass to the other side of the Morelle and from there study the districtwith a field glass; Pere Merlier, who accompanied him, seemed to begiving him explanations. Then the captain posted soldiers behindthe walls, behind the trees and in the ditches. The main body of thedetachment encamped in the courtyard of the mill. Was there going to bea battle? When Pere Merlier returned he was questioned. He nodded hishead without speaking. Yes, there was going to be a battle!

Francoise and Dominique were in the courtyard; they looked at him. Atlast he took his pipe from his mouth and said:

"Ah, my poor young ones, you cannot get married tomorrow!"

Dominique, his lips pressed together, with an angry frown on hisforehead, at times raised himself on tiptoe and fixed his eyes upon thewood of Gagny, as if he wished to see the Prussians arrive. Francoise, very pale and serious, came and went, furnishing the soldiers with whatthey needed. The troops were making soup in a corner of the courtyard;they joked while waiting for it to get ready. 

The captain was delighted. He had visited the chambers and the hugehall of the mill which looked out upon the river. Now, seated beside thewell, he was conversing with Pere Merlier. 

"Your mill is a real fortress, " he said. "We can hold it withoutdifficulty until evening. The bandits are late. They ought to be here. "

The miller was grave. He saw his mill burning like a torch, but heuttered no complaint, thinking such a course useless. He merely said:

"You had better hide the boat behind the wheel; there is a place therejust fit for that purpose. Perhaps it will be useful to have the boat. "

The captain gave the requisite order. This officer was a handsome manof forty; he was tall and had an amiable countenance. The sight ofFrancoise and Dominique seemed to please him. He contemplated them asif he had forgotten the coming struggle. He followed Francoise withhis eyes, and his look told plainly that he thought her charming. Thenturning toward Dominique, he asked suddenly:

"Why are you not in the army, my good fellow?"

"I am a foreigner, " answered the young man. 

The captain evidently did not attach much weight to this reason. Hewinked his eye and smiled. Francoise was more agreeable company than acannon. On seeing him smile, Dominique added:

"I am a foreigner, but I can put a ball in an apple at five hundredmeters. There is my hunting gun behind you. "

"You may have use for it, " responded the captain dryly. 

Francoise had approached, somewhat agitated. Without heeding thestrangers present Dominique took and grasped in his the two hands sheextended to him, as if to put herself under his protection. The captainsmiled again but said not a word. He remained seated, his sword acrosshis knees and his eyes plunged into space, lost in a reverie. 

It was already ten o'clock. The heat had become very great. A heavysilence prevailed. In the courtyard, in the shadows of the sheds, thesoldiers had begun to eat their soup. Not a sound came from the village;all its inhabitants had barricaded the doors and windows of theirhouses. A dog, alone upon the highway, howled. From the neighboringforests and meadows, swooning in the heat, came a prolonged and distantvoice made up of all the scattered breaths. A cuckoo sang. Then thesilence grew more intense. 

Suddenly in that slumbering air a shot was heard. The captain leapedbriskly to his feet; the soldiers left their plates of soup, yet halffull. In a few seconds everybody was at the post of duty; from bottom totop the mill was occupied. Meanwhile the captain, who had gone outupon the road, had discovered nothing; to the right and to the left thehighway stretched out, empty and white. A second shot was heard, andstill nothing visible, not even a shadow. But as he was returning thecaptain perceived in the direction of Gagny, between two trees, a lightpuff of smoke whirling away like thistledown. The wood was calm andpeaceful. 

"The bandits have thrown themselves into the forest, " he muttered. "Theyknow we are here. "

Then the firing continued, growing more and more vigorous, between theFrench soldiers posted around the mill and the Prussians hidden behindthe trees. The balls whistled above the Morelle without damaging eitherside. The fusillade was irregular, the shots coming from every bush, andstill only the little puffs of smoke, tossed gently by the breeze, wereseen. This lasted nearly two hours. The officer hummed a tune with anair of indifference. Francoise and Dominique, who had remained in thecourtyard, raised themselves on tiptoe and looked over a low wall. Theywere particularly interested in a little soldier posted on the shore ofthe Morelle, behind the remains of an old bateau; he stretched himselfout flat on the ground, watched, fired and then glided into a ditch atrifle farther back to reload his gun; and his movements were so droll, so tricky and so supple, that they smiled as they looked at him. He musthave perceived the head of a Prussian, for he arose quickly and broughthis weapon to his shoulder, but before he could fire he uttered a cry, fell and rolled into the ditch, where for an instant his legs twitchedconvulsively like the claws of a chicken just killed. The little soldierhad received a ball full in the breast. He was the first man slain. Instinctively Francoise seized Dominique's hand and clasped it with anervous contraction. 

"Move away, " said the captain. "You are within range of the balls. "

At that moment a sharp little thud was heard in the old elm, and afragment of a branch came whirling down. But the two young folks did notstir; they were nailed to the spot by anxiety to see what was going on. On the edge of the wood a Prussian had suddenly come out from behind atree as from a theater stage entrance, beating the air with his handsand falling backward. Nothing further moved; the two corpses seemedasleep in the broad sunlight; not a living soul was seen in thescorching country. Even the crack of the fusillade had ceased. TheMorelle alone whispered in its clear tones. 

Pere Merlier looked at the captain with an air of surprise, as if to askhim if the struggle was over. 

"They are getting ready for something worse, " muttered the officer. "Don't trust appearances. Move away from there. "

He had not finished speaking when there was a terrible discharge ofmusketry. The great elm was riddled, and a host of leaves shot into theair. The Prussians had happily fired too high. Dominique dragged, almostcarried, Francoise away, while Pere Merlier followed them, shouting:

"Go down into the cellar; the walls are solid!"

But they did not heed him; they entered the huge hall where ten soldierswere waiting in silence, watching through the chinks in the closedwindow shutters. The captain was alone in the courtyard, crouchingbehind the little wall, while the furious discharges continued. Without, the soldiers he had posted gave ground only foot by foot. However, theyre-entered one by one, crawling, when the enemy had dislodged themfrom their hiding places. Their orders were to gain time and not showthemselves, that the Prussians might remain in ignorance as to whatforce was before them. Another hour went by. As a sergeant arrived, saying that but two or three more men remained without, the captainglanced at his watch, muttering:

"Half-past two o'clock. We must hold the position four hours longer. "

He caused the great gate of the courtyard to be closed, and everypreparation was made for an energetic resistance. As the Prussians wereon the opposite side of the Morelle, an immediate assault was not to befeared. There was a bridge two kilometers away, but they evidently werenot aware of its existence, and it was hardly likely that they wouldattempt to ford the river. The officer, therefore, simply ordered thehighway to be watched. Every effort would be made in the direction ofthe country. 

Again the fusillade had ceased. The mill seemed dead beneath the glowingsun. Not a shutter was open; no sound came from the interior. At length, little by little, the Prussians showed themselves at the edge of theforest of Gagny. They stretched their necks and grew bold. In the millseveral soldiers had already raised their guns to their shoulders, butthe captain cried:

"No, no; wait. Let them come nearer. "

They were exceedingly prudent, gazing at the mill with a suspicious air. The silent and somber old structure with its curtains of ivy filled themwith uneasiness. Nevertheless, they advanced. When fifty of them were inthe opposite meadow the officer uttered the single word:

"Fire!"

A crash was heard; isolated shots followed. Francoise, all of a tremble, had mechanically put her hands to her ears. Dominique, behind thesoldiers, looked on; when the smoke had somewhat lifted he saw threePrussians stretched upon their backs in the center of the meadow. Theothers had thrown themselves behind the willows and poplars. Then thesiege began. 

For more than an hour the mill was riddled with balls. They dashedagainst the old walls like hail. When they struck the stones they wereheard to flatten and fall into the water. They buried themselves in thewood with a hollow sound. Occasionally a sharp crack announced that themill wheel had been hit. The soldiers in the interior were careful oftheir shots; they fired only when they could take aim. From time to timethe captain consulted his watch. As a ball broke a shutter and plowedinto the ceiling he said to himself:

"Four o'clock. We shall never be able to hold out!"

Little by little the terrible fusillade weakened the old mill. A shutterfell into the water, pierced like a bit of lace, and it was necessary toreplace it with a mattress. Pere Merlier constantly exposed himself toascertain the extent of the damage done to his poor wheel, the crackingof which made his heart ache. All would be over with it this time; nevercould he repair it. Dominique had implored Francoise to withdraw, but she refused to leave him; she was seated behind a huge oakenclothespress, which protected her. A ball, however, struck theclothespress, the sides of which gave forth a hollow sound. ThenDominique placed himself in front of Francoise. He had not yet fireda shot; he held his gun in his hand but was unable to approach thewindows, which were altogether occupied by the soldiers. At eachdischarge the floor shook. 

"Attention! Attention!" suddenly cried the captain. 

He had just seen a great dark mass emerge from the wood. Immediately aformidable platoon fire opened. It was like a waterspout passing overthe mill. Another shutter was shattered, and through the gaping openingof the window the balls entered. Two soldiers rolled upon the floor. Oneof them lay like a stone; they pushed the body against the wall becauseit was in the way. The other twisted in agony, begging his comrades tofinish him, but they paid no attention to him. The balls entered ina constant stream; each man took care of himself and strove to find aloophole through which to return the fire. A third soldier was hit; heuttered not a word; he fell on the edge of a table, with eyes fixed andhaggard. Opposite these dead men Francoise, stricken with horror, hadmechanically pushed away her chair to sit on the floor against the wall;she thought she would take up less room there and not be in so muchdanger. Meanwhile the soldiers had collected all the mattresses of thehousehold and partially stopped up the windows with them. The hall wasfilled with wrecks, with broken weapons and demolished furniture. 

"Five o'clock, " said the captain. "Keep up your courige! They are aboutto try to cross the river!"

At that moment Francoise uttered a cry. A ball which had ricocheted hadgrazed her forehead. Several drops of blood appeared. Dominique staredat her; then, approaching the window, he fired his first shot. Oncestarted, he did not stop. He loaded and fired without heeding what waspassing around him, but from time to time he glanced at Francoise. Hewas very deliberate and aimed with care. The Prussians, keeping besidethe poplars, attempted the passage of the Morelle, as the captain hadpredicted, but as soon as a man strove to cross he fell, shot in thehead by Dominique. The captain, who had his eyes on the young man, wasamazed. He complimented him, saying that he should be glad to havemany such skillful marksmen. Dominique did not hear him. A ball cut hisshoulder; another wounded his arm, but he continued to fire. 

There were two more dead men. The mangled mattresses no longer stoppedthe windows. The last discharge seemed as if it would have carriedaway the mill. The position had ceased to be tenable. Nevertheless, thecaptain said firmly:

"Hold your ground for half an hour more!"

Now he counted the minutes. He had promised his chiefs to hold the enemyin check there until evening, and he would not give an inch before thehour he had fixed on for the retreat. He preserved his amiable air andsmiled upon Francoise to reassure her. He had picked up the gun of adead soldier and himself was firing. 

Only four soldiers remained in the hall. The Prussians appeared ina body on the other side of the Morelle, and it was clear that theyintended speedily to cross the river. A few minutes more elapsed. Thestubborn captain would not order the retreat. Just then a sergeanthastened to him and said:

"They are upon the highway; they will take us in the rear!"

The Prussians must have found the bridge. The captain pulled out hiswatch and looked at it. 

"Five minutes longer, " he said. "They cannot get here before that time!"

Then at six o'clock exactly he at last consented to lead his men outthrough a little door which opened into a lane. From there they threwthemselves into a ditch; they gained the forest of Sauval. Before takinghis departure the captain bowed very politely to Pere Merlier and madehis excuses, adding:

"Amuse them! We will return!"

Dominique was now alone in the hall. He was still firing, hearingnothing, understanding nothing. He felt only the need of defendingFrancoise. He had not the least suspicion in the world that the soldiershad retreated. He aimed and killed his man at every shot. Suddenly therewas a loud noise. The Prussians had entered the courtyard from behind. Dominique fired a last; shot, and they fell upon him while his gun wasyet smoking. 

Four men held him. Others vociferated around him in a frightfullanguage. They were ready to slaughter him on the spot. Francoise, witha supplicating look, had cast herself before him. But an officer enteredand ordered the prisoner to be delivered up to him. After exchanginga few words in German with the soldiers he turned toward Dominique andsaid to him roughly in very good French:

"You will be shot in two hours!"

CHAPTER III

THE FLIGHT

It was a settled rule of the German staff that every Frenchman, notbelonging to the regular army, taken with arms in his hands shouldbe shot. The militia companies themselves were not recognized asbelligerents. By thus making terrible examples of the peasants whodefended their homes, the Germans hoped to prevent the levy en masse, which they feared. 

The officer, a tall, lean man of fifty, briefly questioned Dominique. Although he spoke remarkably pure French he had a stiffness altogetherPrussian. 

"Do you belong to this district?" he asked. 

"No; I am a Belgian, " answered the young man. 

"Why then did you take up arms? The fighting did not concern you!"

Dominique made no reply. At that moment the officer saw Francoise whowas standing by, very pale, listening; upon her white forehead herslight wound had put a red bar. He looked at the young folks, one afterthe other, seemed to understand matters and contented himself withadding:

"You do not deny having fired, do you?"

"I fired as often as I could!" responded Dominique tranquilly. 

This confession was useless, for he was black with powder, covered withsweat and stained with a few drops of blood which had flowed from thescratch on his shoulder. 

"Very well, " said the officer. "You will be shot in two hours!"

Francoise did not cry out. She clasped her hands and raised them with agesture of mute despair. The officer noticed this gesture. Two soldiershad taken Dominique to a neighboring apartment, where they were tokeep watch over him. The young girl had fallen upon a chair, totallyovercome; she could not weep; she was suffocating. The officer hadcontinued to examine her. At last he spoke to her. 

"Is that young man your brother?" he demanded. 

She shook her head negatively. The German stood stiffly on his feet without a smile. Then after a short silence he again asked:

"Has he lived long in the district?"

She nodded affirmatively. 

"In that case, he ought to be thoroughly acquainted with the neighboringforests. "

This time she spoke. 

"He is thoroughly acquainted with them, monsieur, " she said, looking athim with considerable surprise. 

He said nothing further to her but turned upon his heel, demanding thatthe mayor of the village should be brought to him. But Francoise hadarisen with a slight blush on her countenance; thinking that she hadseized the aim of the officer's questions, she had recovered hope. Sheherself ran to find her father. 

Pere Merlier, as soon as the firing had ceased, had quickly descended tothe wooden gallery to examine his wheel. He adored his daughter; he hada solid friendship for Dominique, his future son-in-law, but his wheelalso held a large place in his heart. Since the two young ones, as hecalled them, had come safe and sound out of the fight, he thought of hisother tenderness, which had suffered greatly. Bent over the huge woodencarcass, he was studying its wounds with a sad air. Five buckets wereshattered to pieces; the central framework was riddled. He thrust hisfingers in the bullet holes to measure their depth; he thought how hecould repair all these injuries. Francoise found him already stopping upthe clefts with rubbish and moss. 

"Father, " she said, "you are wanted. "

And she wept at last as she told him what she had just heard. PereMerlier tossed his head. People were not shot in such a summary fashion. The matter must be looked after. He re-entered the mill with his silentand tranquil air. When the officer demanded of him provisions for hismen he replied that the inhabitants of Rocreuse were not accustomedto be treated roughly and that nothing would be obtained from them ifviolence were employed. He would see to everything but on condition thathe was not interfered with. The officer at first seemed irritated by hiscalm tone; then he gave way before the old man's short and clear words. He even called him back and asked him:

"What is the name of that wood opposite?"

"The forest of Sauval. "

"What is its extent?"

The miller looked at him fixedly. 

"I do not know, " he answered. 

And he went away. An hour later the contribution of war in provisionsand money, demanded by the officer, was in the courtyard of the mill. Night came on. Francoise watched with anxiety the movements of thesoldiers. She hung about the room in which Dominique was imprisoned. Toward seven o'clock she experienced a poignant emotion. She saw theofficer enter the prisoner's apartment and for a quarter of an hourheard their voices in loud conversation. For an instant the officerreappeared upon the threshold to give an order in German, which she didnot understand, but when twelve men ranged themselves in the courtyard, their guns on their shoulders, she trembled and felt as if about tofaint. All then was over: the execution was going to take place. Thetwelve men stood there ten minutes, Dominique's voice continuing tobe raised in a tone of violent refusal. Finally the officer came out, saying, as he roughly shut the door:

"Very well; reflect. I give you until tomorrow morning. "

And with a gesture he ordered the twelve men to break ranks. Francoisewas stupefied. Pere Merlier, who had been smoking his pipe and lookingat the platoon simply with an air of curiosity, took her by the arm withpaternal gentleness. He led her to her chamber. 

"Be calm, " he said, "and try to sleep. Tomorrow, when it is light, wewill see what can be done. "

As he withdrew he prudently locked her in. It was his opinion that womenwere good for nothing and that they spoiled everything when they tooka hand in a serious affair. But Francoise did not retire. She sat fora long while upon the side of her bed, listening to the noises of thehouse. The German soldiers encamped in the courtyard sang and laughed;they must have been eating and drinking until eleven o'clock, for theracket did not cease an instant. In the mill itself heavy footstepsresounded from time to time, without doubt those of the sentinels whowere being relieved. But she was interested most by the sounds shecould distinguish in the apartment beneath her chamber. Many times shestretched herself out at full length and put her ear to the floor. Thatapartment was the one in which Dominique was confined. He must have beenwalking back and forth from the window to the wall, for she long heardthe regular cadence of his steps. Then deep silence ensued; he haddoubtless seated himself. Finally every noise ceased and all was as ifasleep. When slumber appeared to her to have settled on the house sheopened her window as gently as possible and leaned her elbows on thesill. 

Without, the night had a warm serenity. The slender crescent of themoon, which was sinking behind the forest of Sauval, lit up the countrywith the glimmer of a night lamp. The lengthened shadows of the talltrees barred the meadows with black, while the grass in uncovered spotsassumed the softness of greenish velvet. But Francoise did not pauseto admire the mysterious charms of the night. She examined the country, searching for the sentinels whom the Germans had posted obliquely. Sheclearly saw their shadows extending like the rounds of a ladder alongthe Morelle. Only one was before the mill, on the other shore of theriver, beside a willow, the branches of which dipped in the water. Francoise saw him plainly. He was a tall man and was standingmotionless, his face turned toward the sky with the dreamy air of ashepherd. 

When she had carefully inspected the locality she again seated herselfon her bed. She remained there an hour, deeply absorbed. Then shelistened once more: there was not a sound in the mill. She returned tothe window and glanced out, but doubtless one of the horns of the moon, which was still visible behind the trees, made her uneasy, for sheresumed her waiting attitude. At last she thought the proper timehad come. The night was as black as jet; she could no longer see thesentinel opposite; the country spread out like a pool of ink. Shestrained her ear for an instant and made her decision. Passing near thewindow was an iron ladder, the bars fastened to the wall, which mountedfrom the wheel to the garret and formerly enabled the millers to reachcertain machinery; afterward the mechanism had been altered, and for along while the ladder had been hidden under the thick ivy which coveredthat side of the mill. 

Francoise bravely climbed out of her window and grasped one of the barsof the ladder. She began to descend. Her skirts embarrassed her greatly. Suddenly a stone was detached from the wall and fell into the Morellewith a loud splash. She stopped with an icy shiver of fear. Then sherealized that the waterfall with its continuous roar would drown everynoise she might make, and she descended more courageously, feeling theivy with her foot, assuring herself that the rounds were firm. When shewas at the height of the chamber which served as Dominique's prisonshe paused. An unforeseen difficulty nearly caused her to lose all hercourage: the window of the chamber was not directly below that of herapartment. She hung off from the ladder, but when she stretched out herarm her hand encountered only the wall. Must she, then, ascend withoutpushing her plan to completion? Her arms were fatigued; the murmur ofthe Morelle beneath her commenced to make her dizzy. Then she tore fromthe wall little fragments of plaster and threw them against Dominique'swindow. He did not hear; he was doubtless asleep. She crumbled moreplaster from the wall, scraping the skin off her fingers. She wasutterly exhausted; she felt herself falling backward, when Dominique atlast softly opened the window. 

"It is I!" she murmured. "Catch me quickly; I'm falling!"

It was the first time that she had addressed him familiarly. Leaningout, he seized her and drew her into the chamber. There she gave vent toa flood of tears, stifling her sobs that she might not be heard. Then bya supreme effort she calmed herself. 

"Are you guarded?" she asked in a low voice. 

Dominique, still stupefied at seeing her thus, nodded his headaffirmatively, pointing to the door. On the other side they heardsomeone snoring; the sentinel, yielding to sleep, had thrown himself onthe floor against the door, arguing that by disposing himself thus theprisoner could not escape. 

"You must fly, " resumed Francoise excitedly. "I have come to beg you todo so and to bid you farewell. "

But he did not seem to hear her. He repeated:

"What? Is it you; is it you? Oh, what fear you caused me! You might havekilled yourself!"

He seized her hands; he kissed them. 

"How I love you, Francoise!" he murmured. "You are as courageous asgood. I had only one dread: that I should die without seeing you again. But you are here, and now they can shoot me. When I have passed aquarter of an hour with you I shall be ready. "

Little by little he had drawn her to him, and she leaned her head uponhis shoulder. The danger made them dearer to each other. They forgoteverything in that warm clasp. 

"Ah, Francoise, " resumed Dominique in a caressing voice, "this is SaintLouis's Day, the day, so long awaited, of our marriage. Nothing hasbeen able to separate us, since we are both here alone, faithful to theappointment. Is not this our wedding morning?"

"Yes, yes, " she repeated, "it is our wedding morning. "

They tremblingly exchanged a kiss. But all at once she disengagedherself from Dominique's arms; she remembered the terrible reality. 

"You must fly; you must fly, " she whispered. "There is not a minute tobe lost!"

And as he stretched out his arms in the darkness to clasp her again, shesaid tenderly:

"Oh, I implore you to listen to me! If you die I shall die also! In anhour it will be light. I want you to go at once. "

Then rapidly she explained her plan. The iron ladder descended to themill wheel; there he could climb down the buckets and get into the boatwhich was hidden away in a nook. Afterward it would be easy for him toreach the other bank of the river and escape. 

"But what of the sentinels?" he asked. 

"There is only one, opposite, at the foot of the first willow. "

"What if he should see me and attempt to give an alarm?"

Francoise shivered. She placed in his hand a knife she had brought withher. There was a brief silence. 

"What is to become of your father and yourself?" resumed Dominique. "No, I cannot fly! When I am gone those soldiers will, perhaps, massacreyou both! You do not know them. They offered me my life if I wouldconsent to guide them through the forest of Sauval. When they discovermy escape they will be capable of anything!"

The young girl did not stop to argue. She said simply in reply to allthe reasons he advanced:

"Out of love for me, fly! If you love me, Dominique, do not remain hereanother moment!"

Then she promised to climb back to her chamber. No one would know thatshe had helped him. She finally threw her arms around him to convincehim with an embrace, with a burst of extraordinary love. He wasvanquished. He asked but one more question:

"Can you swear to me that your father knows what you have done and thathe advises me to fly?"

"My father sent me!" answered Francoise boldly. 

She told a falsehood. At that moment she had only one immense need: toknow that he was safe, to escape from the abominable thought thatthe sun would be the signal for his death. When he was far away everymisfortune might fall upon her; that would seem delightful to her fromthe moment he was secure. The selfishness of her tenderness desired thathe should live before everything. 

"Very well, " said Dominique; "I will do what you wish. "

They said nothing more. Dominique reopened the window. But suddenlya sound froze them. The door was shaken, and they thought that it wasabout to be opened. Evidently a patrol had heard their voices. Standinglocked in each other's arms, they waited in unspeakable anguish. Thedoor was shaken a second time, but it did not open. They uttered lowsighs of relief; they comprehended that the soldier who was asleepagainst the door must have turned over. In fact, silence succeeded; thesnoring was resumed. 

Dominique exacted that Francoise should ascend to her chamber before hedeparted. He clasped her in his arms and bade her a mute adieu. Thenhe aided her to seize the ladder and clung to it in his turn. But herefused to descend a single round until convinced that she was in herapartment. When Francoise had entered her window she let fall in a voiceas light as a breath:

"Au revoir, my love!"

She leaned her elbows on the sill and strove to follow Dominique withher eyes. The night was yet very dark. She searched for the sentinel butcould not see him; the willow alone made a pale stain in the midst ofthe gloom. For an instant she heard the sound produced by Dominique'sbody in passing along the ivy. Then the wheel cracked, and there wasa slight agitation in the water which told her that the young manhad found the boat. A moment afterward she distinguished the sombersilhouette of the bateau on the gray surface of the Morelle. Terribleanguish seized upon her. Each instant she thought she heard thesentinel's cry of alarm; the smallest sounds scattered through the gloomseemed to her the hurried tread of soldiers, the clatter of weapons, the charging of guns. Nevertheless, the seconds elapsed and the countrymaintained its profound peace. Dominique must have reached the otherside of the river. Francoise saw nothing more. The silence was majestic. She heard a shuffling of feet, a hoarse cry and the hollow fall of abody. Afterward the silence grew deeper. Then as if she had felt Deathpass by, she stood, chilled through and through, staring into the thicknight. 

CHAPTER IV

A TERRIBLE EXPERIENCE

At dawn a clamor of voices shook the mill. Pere Merlier opened the doorof Francoise's chamber. She went down into the courtyard, pale and verycalm. But there she could not repress a shiver as she saw the corpse ofa Prussian soldier stretched out on a cloak beside the well. 

Around the body troops gesticulated, uttering cries of fury. Manyof them shook their fists at the village. Meanwhile the officer hadsummoned Pere Merlier as the mayor of the commune. 

"Look!" he said to him in a voice almost choking with anger. "There liesone of our men who was found assassinated upon the bank of the river. We must make a terrible example, and I count on you to aid us indiscovering the murderer. "

"As you choose, " answered the miller with his usual stoicism, "but youwill find it no easy task. "

The officer stooped and drew aside a part of the cloak which hid theface of the dead man. Then appeared a horrible wound. The sentinel hadbeen struck in the throat, and the weapon had remained in the cut. Itwas a kitchen knife with a black handle. 

"Examine that knife, " said the officer to Pere Merlier; "perhaps it willhelp us in our search. "

The old man gave a start but recovered control of himself immediately. He replied without moving a muscle of his face:

"Everybody in the district has similar knives. Doubtless your man wasweary of fighting and put an end to his own life. It looks like it!"

"Mind what you say!" cried the officer furiously. "I do not know whatprevents me from setting fire to the four corners of the village!"

Happily in his rage he did not notice the deep trouble pictured onFrancoise's countenance. She had been forced to sit down on a stonebench near the well. Despite herself her eyes were fixed upon the corpsestretched our on the ground almost at her feet. It was that of a talland handsome man who resembled Dominique, with flaxen hair and blueeyes. This resemblance made her heart ache. She thought that perhaps thedead soldier had left behind him in Germany a sweetheart who would weepher eyes out for him. She recognized her knife in the throat of themurdered man. She had killed him. 

The officer was talking of striking Rocreuse with terrible measures, when soldiers came running to him. Dominique's escape had just beendiscovered. It caused an extreme agitation. The officer went to theapartment in which the prisoner had been confined, looked out of thewindow which had remained open, understood everything and returned, exasperated. 

Pere Merlier seemed greatly vexed by Dominique's flight. 

"The imbecile!" he muttered. "He has ruined all!"

Francoise heard him and was overcome with anguish. But the miller didnot suspect her of complicity in the affair. He tossed his head, sayingto her in an undertone:

"We are in a nice scrape!"

"It was that wretch who assassinated the soldier! I am sure of it!"cried the officer. "He has undoubtedly reached the forest. But he mustbe found for us or the village shall pay for him!"

Turning to the miller, he said:

"See here, you ought to know where he is hidden!"

Pere Merlier laughed silently, pointing to the wide stretch of woodenhills. 

"Do you expect to find a man in there?" he said. 

"Oh, there must be nooks there with which you are acquainted. I willgive you ten men. You must guide them. "

"As you please. But it will take a week to search all the wood in thevicinity. "

The old man's tranquillity enraged the officer. In fact, the lattercomprehended the asburdity of this search. At that moment he sawFrancoise, pale and trembling, on the bench. The anxious attitude of theyoung girl struck him. He was silent for an instant, during which he inturn examined the miller and his daughter. 

At length he demanded roughly of the old man:

"Is not that fellow your child's lover?"

Pere Merlier grew livid and seemed about to hurl himself upon theofficer to strangle him. He stiffened himself but made no answer. Francoise buried her face in her hands. 

"Yes, that's it!" continued the Prussian. "And you or your daughterhelped him to escape! One of you is his accomplice! For the last time, will you give him up to us?"

The miller uttered not a word. He turned away and looked into space withan air of indifference, as if the officer had not addressed him. Thisbrought the latter's rage to a head. 

"Very well!" he shouted. "You shall be shot in his place!"

And he again ordered out the platoon of execution. Pere Merlier remainedas stoical as ever. He hardly even shrugged his shoulders; all thisdrama appeared to him in bad taste. Without doubt he did not believethat they would shoot a man so lightly. But when the platoon drew upbefore him he said gravely:

"So it is serious, is it? Go on with your bloody work then! If you musthave a victim I will do as well as another!"

But Francoise started up, terrified, stammering:

"In pity, monsieur, do no harm to my father! Kill me in his stead! Iaided Dominique to fly! I alone am guilty!"

"Hush, my child!" cried Pere Merlier. "Why do you tell an untruth? Shepassed the night locked in her chamber, monsieur. She tells a falsehood, I assure you!"

"No, I do not tell a falsehood!" resumed the young girl ardently. "I climbed out of my window and went down the iron ladder; I urgedDominique to fly. This is the truth, the whole truth!"

The old man became very pale. He saw clearly in her eyes that she didnot lie, and her story terrified him. Ah, these children with theirhearts, how they spoil everything! Then he grew angry and exclaimed:

"She is mad; do not heed her. She tells you stupid tales. Come, finishyour work!"

She still protested. She knelt, clasping her hands. The officertranquilly watched this dolorous struggle. 

"MON DIEU!" he said at last. "I take your father because I have not theother. Find the fugitive and the old man shall be set at liberty!"

She gazed at him with staring eyes, astonished at the atrocity of theproposition. 

"How horrible!" she murmured. "Where do you think I can find Dominiqueat this hour? He has departed; I know no more about him. "

"Come, make your choice--him or your father. "

"Oh, MON DIEU! How can I choose? If I knew where Dominique was I couldnot choose! You are cutting my heart. I would rather die at once. Yes, it would be the sooner over. Kill me, I implore you, kill me!"

This scene of despair and tears finally made the officer impatient. Hecried out:

"Enough! I will be merciful. I consent to give you two hours. If in thattime your lover is not here your father will be shot in his place!"

He caused Pere Merlier to be taken to the chamber which had served asDominique's prison. The old man demanded tobacco and began to smoke. Upon his impassible face not the slightest emotion was visible. But whenalone, as he smoked, he shed two big tears which ran slowly down hischeeks. His poor, dear child, how she was suffering!

Francoise remained in the middle of the courtyard. Prussian soldierspassed, laughing. Some of them spoke to her, uttered jokes she couldnot understand. She stared at the door through which her father haddisappeared. With a slow movement she put her hand to her forehead, asif to prevent it from bursting. 

The officer turned upon his heel, saying:

"You have two hours. Try to utilize them. "

She had two hours. This phrase buzzed in her ears. Then mechanicallyshe quitted the courtyard; she walked straight ahead. Where should shego?--what should she do? She did not even try to make a decision becauseshe well understood the inutility of her efforts. However, she wishedto see Dominique. They could have an understanding together; they might, perhaps, find an expedient. And amid the confusion of her thoughtsshe went down to the shore of the Morelle, which she crossed below thesluice at a spot where there were huge stones. Her feet led her beneaththe first willow, in the corner of the meadow. As she stooped she saw apool of blood which made her turn pale. It was there the murder had beencommitted. She followed the track of Dominique in the trodden grass; hemust have run, for she perceived a line of long footprints stretchingacross the meadow. Then farther on she lost these traces. But in aneighboring field she thought she found them again. The new trailconducted her to the edge of the forest, where every indication waseffaced. 

Francoise, nevertheless, plunged beneath the trees. It solaced her tobe alone. She sat down for an instant, but at the thought that time waspassing she leaped to her feet. How long had it been since she left themill? Five minutes?--half an hour? She had lost all conception of time. Perhaps Dominique had concealed himself in a copse she knew of, wherethey had one afternoon eaten filberts together. She hastened to thecopse, searched it. Only a blackbird flew away, uttering its soft, sadnote. Then she thought he might have taken refuge in a hollow of therocks, where it had sometimes been his custom to lie in wait for game, but the hollow of the rocks was empty. What good was it to hunt for him?She would never find him, but little by little the desire to discoverhim took entire possession of her, and she hastened her steps. The ideathat he might have climbed a tree suddenly occurred to her. She advancedwith uplifted eyes, and that he might be made aware of her presence shecalled him every fifteen or twenty steps. Cuckoos answered; a breathof wind which passed through the branches made her believe that hewas there and was descending. Once she even imagined she saw him; shestopped, almost choked, and wished to fly. What was she to say to him?Had she come to take him back to be shot? Oh no, she would not tell himwhat had happened. She would cry out to him to escape, not to remain inthe neighborhood. Then the thought that her father was waiting for hergave her a sharp pain. She fell upon the turf, weeping, crying aloud:

"MON DIEU! MON DIEU! Why am I here?"

She was mad to have come. And as if seized with fear, she ran; shesought to leave the forest. Three times she deceived herself; shethought she never again would find the mill, when she entered a meadowjust opposite Rocreuse. As soon as she saw the village she paused. Wasshe going to return alone? She was still hesitating when a voice softlycalled:

"Francoise! Francoise!"

And she saw Dominique, who had raised his head above the edge of aditch. Just God! She had found him! Did heaven wish his death? Sherestrained a cry; she let herself glide into the ditch. 

"Are you searching for me?" asked the young man. 

"Yes, " she answered, her brain in a whirl, not knowing what she said. 

"What has happened?"

She lowered her eyes, stammered:

"Nothing. I was uneasy; I wanted to see you. "

Then, reassured, he explained to her that he had resolved not to goaway. He was doubtful about the safety of herself and her father. ThosePrussian wretches were fully capable of taking vengeance upon women andold men. But everything was getting on well. He added with a laugh:

"Our wedding will take place in a week--I am sure of it. "

Then as she remained overwhelmed, he grew grave again and said:

"But what ails you? You are concealing something from me!"

"No; I swear it to you. I am out of breath from running. "

He embraced her, saying that it was imprudent for them to be talking, and he wished to climb out of the ditch to return to the forest. Sherestrained him. She trembled. 

"Listen, " she said: "it would, perhaps, be wise for you to remain whereyou are. No one is searching for you; you have nothing to fear. "

"Francoise, you are concealing something from me, " he repeated. 

Again she swore that she was hiding nothing. She had simply wishedto know that he was near her. And she stammered forth still furtherreasons. She seemed so strange to him that he now could not be inducedto flee. Besides, he had faith in the return of the French. Troops hadbeen seen in the direction of Sauval. 

"Ah, let them hurry; let them get here as soon as possible, " shemurmured fervently. 

At that moment eleven o'clock sounded from the belfry of Rocreuse. Thestrokes were clear and distinct. She arose with a terrified look; twohours had passed since she quitted the mill. 

"Hear me, " she said rapidly: "if we have need of you I will wave myhandkerchief from my chamber window. "

And she departed on a run, while Dominique, very uneasy, stretchedhimself out upon the edge of the ditch to watch the mill. As she wasabout to enter Rocreuse, Francoise met an old beggar, Pere Bontemps, whoknew everybody in the district. He bowed to her; he had just seen themiller in the midst of the Prussians; then, making the sign of the crossand muttering broken words, he went on his way. 

"The two hours have passed, " said the officer when Francoise appeared. 

Pere Merlier was there, seated upon the bench beside the well. He wassmoking. The young girl again begged, wept, sank on her knees. Shewished to gain time. The hope of seeing the French return had increasedin her, and while lamenting she thought she heard in the distance, themeasured tramp of an army. Oh, if they would come, if they would deliverthem all?

"Listen, monsieur, " she said: "an hour, another hour; you can grant usanother hour!"

But the officer remained inflexible. He even ordered two men toseize her and take her away, that they might quietly proceed withthe execution of the old man. Then a frightful struggle took placein Francoise's heart. She could not allow her father to be thusassassinated. No, no; she would die rather with Dominique. She wasrunning toward her chamber when Dominique himself entered the courtyard. 

The officer and the soldiers uttered a shout of triumph. But the youngman, calmly, with a somewhat severe look, went up to Francoise, as ifshe had been the only person present. 

"You did wrong, " he said. "Why did you not bring me back? It remainedfor Pere Bontemps to tell me everything. But I am here!"

CHAPTER V

THE RETURN OF THE FRENCH

It was three o'clock in the afternoon. Great black clouds, the trail ofsome neighboring storm, had slowly filled the sky. The yellow heavens, the brass covered uniforms, had changed the valley of Rocreuse, so gayin the sunlight, into a den of cutthroats full of sinister gloom. ThePrussian officer had contented himself with causing Dominique to beimprisoned without announcing what fate he reserved for him. Sincenoon Francoise had been torn by terrible anguish. Despite her father'sentreaties she would not quit the courtyard. She was awaiting theFrench. But the hours sped on; night was approaching, and she sufferedthe more as all the time gained did not seem to be likely to change thefrightful denouement. 

About three o'clock the Prussians made their preparations for departure. For an instant past the officer had, as on the previous day, shuthimself up with Dominique. Francoise realized that the young man's lifewas in balance. She clasped her hands; she prayed. Pere Merlier, besideher, maintained silence and the rigid attitude of an old peasant whodoes not struggle against fate. 

"Oh, MON DIEU! Oh, MON DIEU!" murmured Francoise. "They are going tokill him!"

The miller drew her to him and took her on his knees as if she had beena child. 

At that moment the officer came out, while behind him two men broughtDominique. 

"Never! Never!" cried the latter. "I am ready to die!"

"Think well, " resumed the officer. "The service you refuse me anotherwill render us. I am generous: I offer you your life. I want you simplyto guide us through the forest to Montredon. There must be pathwaysleading there. "

Dominique was silent. 

"So you persist in your infatuation, do you?"

"Kill me and end all this!" replied the young man. 

Francoise, her hands clasped, supplicated him from afar. She hadforgotten everything; she would have advised him to commit an act ofcowardice. But Pere Merlier seized her hands that the Prussians mightnot see her wild gestures. 

"He is right, " he whispered: "it is better to die!"

The platoon of execution was there. The officer awaited a sign ofweakness on Dominique's part. He still expected to conquer him. No onespoke. In the distance violent crashes of thunder were heard. Oppressiveheat weighed upon the country. But suddenly, amid the silence, a crybroke forth:

"The French! The French!"

Yes, the French were at hand. Upon the Sauval highway, at the edge ofthe wood, the line of red pantaloons could be distinguished. In the millthere was an extraordinary agitation. The Prussian soldiers ran hitherand thither with guttural exclamations. Not a shot had yet been fired. 

"The French! The French!" cried Francoise, clapping her hands. 

She was wild with joy. She escaped from her father's grasp; she laughedand tossed her arms in the air. At last they had come and come in time, since Dominique was still alive!

A terrible platoon fire, which burst upon her ears like a clap ofthunder, caused her to turn. The officer muttered between his teeth:

"Before everything, let us settle this affair!"

And with his own hand pushing Dominique against the wall of a shed heordered his men to fire. When Francoise looked Dominique lay upon theground with blood streaming from his neck and shoulders. 

She did not weep; she stood stupefied. Her eyes grew fixed, and shesat down under the shed, a few paces from the body. She stared at it, wringing her hands. The Prussians had seized Pere Merlier as a hostage. 

It was a stirring combat. The officer had rapidly posted his men, comprehending that he could not beat a retreat without being cut topieces. Hence he would fight to the last. Now the Prussians defendedthe mill, and the French attacked it. The fusillade began with unusualviolence. For half an hour it did not cease. Then a hollow sound washeard, and a ball broke a main branch of the old elm. The French hadcannon. A battery, stationed just above the ditch in which Dominique hadhidden himself, swept the wide street of Rocreuse. The struggle couldnot last long. 

Ah, the poor mill! Balls pierced it in every part. Half of the roof wascarried away. Two walls were battered down. But it was on the side ofthe Morelle that the destruction was most lamentable. The ivy, torn fromthe tottering edifice, hung like rags; the river was encumbered withwrecks of all kinds, and through a breach was visible Francoise'schamber with its bed, the white curtains of which were carefully closed. Shot followed shot; the old wheel received two balls and gave vent toan agonizing groan; the buckets were borne off by the current; theframework was crushed. The soul of the gay mill had left it!

Then the French began the assault. There was a furious fight with swordsand bayonets. Beneath the rust-colored sky the valley was choked withthe dead. The broad meadows had a wild look with their tall, isolatedtrees and their hedges of poplars which stained them with shade. Tothe right and to the left the forests were like the walls of an ancientampitheater which enclosed the fighting gladiators, while the springs, the fountains and the flowing brooks seemed to sob amid the panic of thecountry. 

Beneath the shed Francoise still sat near Dominique's body; she hadnot moved. Pere Merlier had received a slight wound. The Prussians wereexterminated, but the ruined mill was on fire in a dozen places. TheFrench rushed into the courtyard, headed by their captain. It was hisfirst success of the war. His face beamed with triumph. He waved hissword, shouting:

"Victory! Victory!"

On seeing the wounded miller, who was endeavoring to comfort Francoise, and noticing the body of Dominique, his joyous look changed to oneof sadness. Then he knelt beside the young man and, tearing open hisblouse, put his hand to his heart. 

"Thank God!" he cried. "It is yet beating! Send for the surgeon!"

At the captain's words Francoise leaped to her feet. 

"There is hope!" she cried. "Oh, tell me there is hope!"

At that moment the surgeon appeared. He made a hasty examination andsaid:

"The young man is severely hurt, but life is not extinct; he canbe saved!" By the surgeon's orders Dominique was transported to aneighboring cottage, where he was placed in bed. His wounds weredressed; restoratives were administered, and he soon recoveredconsciousness. When he opened his eyes he saw Francoise sitting besidehim and through the open window caught sight of Pere Merlier talkingwith the French captain. He passed his hand over his forehead with abewildered air and said:

"They did not kill me after all!"

"No, " replied Francoise. "The French came, and their surgeon saved you. "

Pere Merlier turned and said through the window:

"No talking yet, my young ones!"

In due time Dominique was entirely restored, and when peace againblessed the land he wedded his beloved Francoise. 

The mill was rebuilt, and Pere Merlier had a new wheel upon which tobestow whatever tenderness was not engrossed by his daughter and herhusband. 

CAPTAIN BURLE

CHAPTER I

THE SWINDLE

It was nine o'clock. The little town of Vauchamp, dark and silent, had just retired to bed amid a chilly November rain. In the Rue desRecollets, one of the narrowest and most deserted streets of thedistrict of Saint-Jean, a single window was still alight on the thirdfloor of an old house, from whose damaged gutters torrents of water werefalling into the street. Mme Burle was sitting up before a meager fireof vine stocks, while her little grandson Charles pored over his lessonsby the pale light of a lamp. 

The apartment, rented at one hundred and sixty francs per annum, consisted of four large rooms which it was absolutely impossible to keepwarm during the winter. Mme Burle slept in the largest chamber, herson Captain and Quartermaster Burle occupying a somewhat smaller oneoverlooking the street, while little Charles had his iron cot at thefarther end of a spacious drawing room with mildewed hangings, which wasnever used. The few pieces of furniture belonging to the captain and hismother, furniture of the massive style of the First Empire, dented andworn by continuous transit from one garrison town to another, almostdisappeared from view beneath the lofty ceilings whence darkness fell. The flooring of red-colored tiles was cold and hard to the feet;before the chairs there were merely a few threadbare little rugs ofpoverty-stricken aspect, and athwart this desert all the winds of heavenblew through the disjointed doors and windows. 

Near the fireplace sat Mme Burle, leaning back in her old yellow velvetarmchair and watching the last vine branch smoke, with that stolid, blank stare of the aged who live within themselves. She would sit thusfor whole days together, with her tall figure, her long stern face andher thin lips that never smiled. The widow of a colonel who had diedjust as he was on the point of becoming a general, the mother of acaptain whom she had followed even in his campaigns, she had acquireda military stiffness of bearing and formed for herself a code of honor, duty and patriotism which kept her rigid, desiccated, as it were, by thestern application of discipline. She seldom, if ever, complained. Whenher son had become a widower after five years of married life shehad undertaken the education of little Charles as a matter of course, performing her duties with the severity of a sergeant drilling recruits. She watched over the child, never tolerating the slightest waywardnessor irregularity, but compelling him to sit up till midnight whenhis exercises were not finished, and sitting up herself until hehad completed them. Under such implacable despotism Charles, whoseconstitution was delicate, grew up pale and thin, with beautiful eyes, inordinately large and clear, shining in his white, pinched face. 

During the long hours of silence Mme Burle dwelt continuously upon oneand the same idea: she had been disappointed in her son. This thoughtsufficed to occupy her mind, and under its influence she would live herwhole life over again, from the birth of her son, whom she had picturedrising amid glory to the highest rank, till she came down to mean andnarrow garrison life, the dull, monotonous existence of nowadays, thatstranding in the post of a quartermaster, from which Burle would neverrise and in which he seemed to sink more and more heavily. And yet hisfirst efforts had filled her with pride, and she had hoped to seeher dreams realized. Burle had only just left Saint-Cyr when hedistinguished himself at the battle of Solferino, where he had captureda whole battery of the enemy's artillery with merely a handful of men. For this feat he had won the cross; the papers had recorded his heroism, and he had become known as one of the bravest soldiers in the army. Butgradually the hero had grown stout, embedded in flesh, timorous, lazyand satisfied. In 1870, still a captain, he had been made a prisonerin the first encounter, and he returned from Germany quite furious, swearing that he would never be caught fighting again, for it was tooabsurd. Being prevented from leaving the army, as he was incapable ofembracing any other profession, he applied for and obtained the positionof captain quartermaster, "a kennel, " as he called it, "in whichhe would be left to kick the bucket in peace. " That day Mme Burleexperienced a great internal disruption. She felt that it was all over, and she ever afterward preserved a rigid attitude with tightened lips. 

A blast of wind shook the Rue des Recollets and drove the rain angrilyagainst the windowpanes. The old lady lifted her eyes from the smokingvine roots now dying out, to make sure that Charles was not fallingasleep over his Latin exercise. This lad, twelve years of age, hadbecome the old lady's supreme hope, the one human being in whom shecentered her obstinate yearning for glory. At first she had hated himwith all the loathing she had felt for his mother, a weak and prettyyoung lacemaker whom the captain had been foolish enough to marry whenhe found out that she would not listen to his passionate addresses onany other condition. Later on, when the mother had died and the fatherhad begun to wallow in vice, Mme Burle dreamed again in presence of thatlittle ailing child whom she found it so hard to rear. She wanted to seehim robust, so that he might grow into the hero that Burle had declinedto be, and for all her cold ruggedness she watched him anxiously, feeling his limbs and instilling courage into his soul. By degrees, blinded by her passionate desires, she imagined that she had at lastfound the man of the family. The boy, whose temperament was of a gentle, dreamy character, had a physical horror of soldiering, but as he livedin mortal dread of his grandmother and was extremely shy and submissive, he would echo all she said and resignedly express his intention ofentering the army when he grew up. 

Mme Burle observed that the exercise was not progressing. In fact, little Charles, overcome by the deafening noise of the storm, wasdozing, albeit his pen was between his fingers and his eyes were staringat the paper. The old lady at once struck the edge of the table withher bony hand; whereupon the lad started, opened his dictionary andhurriedly began to turn over the leaves. Then, still preservingsilence, his grandmother drew the vine roots together on the hearth andunsuccessfully attempted to rekindle the fire. 

At the time when she had still believed in her son she had sacrificedher small income, which he had squandered in pursuits she dared notinvestigate. Even now he drained the household; all its resources wentto the streets, and it was through him that she lived in penury, withempty rooms and cold kitchen. She never spoke to him of all thosethings, for with her sense of discipline he remained the master. Only attimes she shuddered at the sudden fear that Burle might someday commitsome foolish misdeed which would prevent Charles from entering the army. 

She was rising up to fetch a fresh piece of wood in the kitchen when afearful hurricane fell upon the house, making the doors rattle, tearingoff a shutter and whirling the water in the broken gutters like aspout against the window. In the midst of the uproar a ring at thebell startled the old lady. Who could it be at such an hour and in suchweather? Burle never returned till after midnight, if he came homeat all. However, she went to the door. An officer stood before her, dripping with rain and swearing savagely. 

"Hell and thunder!" he growled. "What cursed weather!"

It was Major Laguitte, a brave old soldier who had served under ColonelBurle during Mme Burle's palmy days. He had started in life as a drummerboy and, thanks to his courage rather than his intellect, had attainedto the command of a battalion, when a painful infirmity--the contractionof the muscles of one of his thighs, due to a wound--obliged him toaccept the post of major. He was slightly lame, but it would have beenimprudent to tell him so, as he refused to own it. 

"What, you, Major?" said Mme Burle with growing astonishment. 

"Yes, thunder, " grumbled Laguitte, "and I must be confoundedly fond ofyou to roam the streets on such a night as this. One would think twicebefore sending even a parson out. "

He shook himself, and little rivulets fell from his huge boots onto thefloor. Then he looked round him. 

"I particularly want to see Burle. Is the lazy beggar already in bed?"

"No, he is not in yet, " said the old woman in her harsh voice. 

The major looked furious, and, raising his voice, he shouted: "What, not at home? But in that case they hoaxed me at the cafe, Melanie'sestablishment, you know. I went there, and a maid grinned at me, sayingthat the captain had gone home to bed. Curse the girl! I suspected asmuch and felt like pulling her ears!"

After this outburst he became somewhat calmer, stamping about the roomin an undecided way, withal seeming greatly disturbed. Mme Burle lookedat him attentively. 

"Is it the captain personally whom you want to see?" she said at last. 

"Yes, " he answered. 

"Can I not tell him what you have to say?"

"No. "

She did not insist but remained standing without taking her eyes off themajor, who did not seem able to make up his mind to leave. Finally in afresh burst of rage he exclaimed with an oath: "It can't be helped. As Iam here you may as well know--after all, it is, perhaps, best. "

He sat down before the chimney piece, stretching out his muddy boots asif a bright fire had been burning. Mme Burle was about to resume her ownseat when she remarked that Charles, overcome by fatigue, had droppedhis head between the open pages of his dictionary. The arrival ofthe major had at first interested him, but, seeing that he remainedunnoticed, he had been unable to struggle against his sleepiness. Hisgrandmother turned toward the table to slap his frail little hands, whitening in the lamplight, when Laguitte stopped her. 

"No--no!" he said. "Let the poor little man sleep. I haven't gotanything funny to say. There's no need for him to hear me. "

The old lady sat down in her armchair; deep silence reigned, and theylooked at one another. 

"Well, yes, " said the major at last, punctuating his words with an angrymotion of his chin, "he has been and done it; that hound Burle has beenand done it!"

Not a muscle of Mme Burle's face moved, but she became livid, and herfigure stiffened. Then the major continued: "I had my doubts. I hadintended mentioning the subject to you. Burle was spending too muchmoney, and he had an idiotic look which I did not fancy. Thunder andlightning! What a fool a man must be to behave so filthily!"

Then he thumped his knee furiously with his clenched fist and seemed tochoke with indignation. The old woman put the straightforward question:

"He has stolen?"

"You can't have an idea of it. You see, I never examined his accounts;I approved and signed them. You know how those things are managed. However, just before the inspection--as the colonel is a crotchety oldmaniac--I said to Burle: 'I say, old man, look to your accounts; I amanswerable, you know, ' and then I felt perfectly secure. Well, about amonth ago, as he seemed queer and some nasty stories were circulating, I peered a little closer into the books and pottered over the entries. Ithought everything looked straight and very well kept--"

At this point he stopped, convulsed by such a fit of rage that he had torelieve himself by a volley of appalling oaths. Finally he resumed: "Itisn't the swindle that angers me; it is his disgusting behavior to me. He has gammoned me, Madame Burle. By God! Does he take me for an oldfool?"

"So he stole?" the mother again questioned. 

"This evening, " continued the major more quietly, "I had just finishedmy dinner when Gagneux came in--you know Gagneux, the butcher at thecorner of the Place aux Herbes? Another dirty beast who got the meatcontract and makes our men eat all the diseased cow flesh in theneighborhood! Well, I received him like a dog, and then he let it allout--blurted out the whole thing, and a pretty mess it is! It appearsthat Burle only paid him in driblets and had got himself into amuddle--a confusion of figures which the devil himself couldn'tdisentangle. In short, Burle owes the butcher two thousand francs, andGagneux threatens that he'll inform the colonel if he is not paid. Tomake matters worse, Burle, just to blind me, handed me every week aforged receipt which he had squarely signed with Gagneux's name. Tothink he did that to me, his old friend! Ah, curse him!"

With increasing profanity the major rose to his feet, shook his fist atthe ceiling and then fell back in his chair. Mme Burle again repeated:"He has stolen. It was inevitable. "

Then without a word of judgment or condemnation she added simply: "Twothousand francs--we have not got them. There are barely thirty francs inthe house. "

"I expected as much, " said Laguitte. "And do you know where all themoney goes? Why, Melanie gets it--yes, Melanie, a creature who hasturned Burle into a perfect fool. Ah, those women! Those fiendish women!I always said they would do for him! I cannot conceive what he is madeof! He is only five years younger than I am, and yet he is as mad asever. What a woman hunter he is!"

Another long silence followed. Outside the rain was increasing inviolence, and throughout the sleepy little town one could hear thecrashing of slates and chimney pots as they were dashed by the blastonto the pavements of the streets. 

"Come, " suddenly said the major, rising, "my stopping here won't mendmatters. I have warned you--and now I'm off. "

"What is to be done? To whom can we apply?" muttered the old womandrearily. 

"Don't give way--we must consider. If I only had the two thousandfrancs--but you know that I am not rich. "

The major stopped short in confusion. This old bachelor, wifeless andchildless, spent his pay in drink and gambled away at ecarte whatevermoney his cognac and absinthe left in his pocket. Despite that, however, he was scrupulously honest from a sense of discipline. 

"Never mind, " he added as he reached the threshold. "I'll begin bystirring him up. I shall move heaven and earth! What! Burle, ColonelBurle's son, condemned for theft! That cannot be! I would sooner burndown the town. Now, thunder and lightning, don't worry; it is far moreannoying for me than for you. "

He shook the old lady's hand roughly and vanished into the shadows ofthe staircase, while she held the lamp aloft to light the way. Whenshe returned and replaced the lamp on the table she stood for a momentmotionless in front of Charles, who was still asleep with his face lyingon the dictionary. His pale cheeks and long fair hair made him look likea girl, and she gazed at him dreamily, a shade of tenderness passingover her harsh countenance. But it was only a passing emotion; herfeatures regained their look of cold, obstinate determination, and, giving the youngster a sharp rap on his little hand, she said:

"Charles--your lessons. "

The boy awoke, dazed and shivering, and again rapidly turned over theleaves. At the same moment Major Laguitte, slamming the house doorbehind him, received on his head a quantity of water falling from thegutters above, whereupon he began to swear in so loud a voice that hecould be heard above the storm. And after that no sound broke upon thepelting downpour save the slight rustle of the boy's pen traveling overthe paper. Mme Burle had resumed her seat near the chimney piece, stillrigid, with her eyes fixed on the dead embers, preserving, indeed, herhabitual attitude and absorbed in her one idea. 

CHAPTER II

THE CAFE

The Cafe de Paris, kept by Melanie Cartier, a widow, was situated on thePlace du Palais, a large irregular square planted with meager, dusty elmtrees. The place was so well known in Vauchamp that it was customaryto say, "Are you coming to Melanie's?" At the farther end of the firstroom, which was a spacious one, there was another called "the divan, " anarrow apartment having sham leather benches placed against the walls, while at each corner there stood a marble-topped table. The widow, deserting her seat in the front room, where she left her little servantPhrosine, spent her evenings in the inner apartment, ministering toa few customers, the usual frequenters of the place, those who werecurrently styled "the gentlemen of the divan. " When a man belonged tothat set it was as if he had a label on his back; he was spoken of withsmiles of mingled contempt and envy. 

Mme Cartier had become a widow when she was five and twenty. Herhusband, a wheelwright, who on the death of an uncle had amazed Vauchampby taking the Cafe de Paris, had one fine day brought her back with himfrom Montpellier, where he was wont to repair twice a year to purchaseliqueurs. As he was stocking his establishment he selected, togetherwith divers beverages, a woman of the sort he wanted--of an engagingaspect and apt to stimulate the trade of the house. It was never knownwhere he had picked her up, but he married her after trying her in thecafe during six months or so. Opinions were divided in Vauchamp asto her merits, some folks declaring that she was superb, while othersasserted that she looked like a drum-major. She was a tall woman withlarge features and coarse hair falling low over her forehead. However, everyone agreed that she knew very well how to fool the sterner sex. She had fine eyes and was wont to fix them with a bold stare on thegentlemen of the divan, who colored and became like wax in her hands. She also had the reputation of possessing a wonderfully fine figure, andsoutherners appreciate a statuesque style of beauty. 

Cartier had died in a singular way. Rumor hinted at a conjugal quarrel, a kick, producing some internal tumor. Whatever may have been the truth, Melanie found herself encumbered with the cafe, which was far from doinga prosperous business. Her husband had wasted his uncle's inheritance indrinking his own absinthe and wearing out the cloth of his own billiardtable. For a while it was believed that the widow would have to sellout, but she liked the life and the establishment just as it was. If shecould secure a few customers the bigger room might remain deserted. So she limited herself to repapering the divan in white and gold andrecovering the benches. She began by entertaining a chemist. Thena vermicelli maker, a lawyer and a retired magistrate put in anappearance; and thus it was that the cafe remained open, although thewaiter did not receive twenty orders a day. No objections were raisedby the authorities, as appearances were kept up; and, indeed, it wasnot deemed advisable to interfere, for some respectable folks might havebeen worried. 

Of an evening five or six well-to-do citizens would enter the front roomand play at dominoes there. Although Cartier was dead and the Cafede Paris had got a queer name, they saw nothing and kept up their oldhabits. In course of time, the waiter having nothing to do, Melaniedismissed him and made Phrosine light the solitary gas burner in thecorner where the domino players congregated. Occasionally a party ofyoung men, attracted by the gossip that circulated through the town, would come in, wildly excited and laughing loudly and awkwardly. Butthey were received there with icy dignity. As a rule they did not evensee the widow, and even if she happened to be present she treated themwith withering disdain, so that they withdrew, stammering and confused. Melanie was too astute to indulge in any compromising whims. While thefront room remained obscure, save in the corner where the few townsfolkrattled their dominoes, she personally waited on the gentlemen of thedivan, showing herself amiable without being free, merely venturingin moments of familiarity to lean on the shoulder of one or another ofthem, the better to watch a skillfully played game of ecarte. 

One evening the gentlemen of the divan, who had ended by tolerating eachother's presence, experienced a disagreeable surprise on finding CaptainBurle at home there. He had casually entered the cafe that same morningto get a glass of vermouth, so it seemed, and he had found Melaniethere. They had conversed, and in the evening when he returned Phrosineimmediately showed him to the inner room. 

Two days later Burle reigned there supreme; still he had not frightenedthe chemist, the vermicelli maker, the lawyer or the retired magistrateaway. The captain, who was short and dumpy, worshiped tall, plump women. In his regiment he had been nicknamed "Petticoat Burle" on account ofhis constant philandering. Whenever the officers, and even the privates, met some monstrous-looking creature, some giantess puffed out with fat, whether she were in velvet or in rags, they would invariably exclaim, "There goes one to Petticoat Burle's taste!" Thus Melanie, with heropulent presence, quite conquered him. He was lost--quite wrecked. Inless than a fortnight he had fallen to vacuous imbecility. With much theexpression of a whipped hound in the tiny sunken eyes which lightedup his bloated face, he was incessantly watching the widow in muteadoration before her masculine features and stubby hair. For fearthat he might be dismissed, he put up with the presence of the othergentlemen of the divan and spent his pay in the place down to the lastcopper. A sergeant reviewed the situation in one sentence: "PetticoatBurle is done for; he's a buried man!"

It was nearly ten o'clock when Major Laguitte furiously flung the doorof the cafe open. For a moment those inside could see the deluged squaretransformed into a dark sea of liquid mud, bubbling under the terribledownpour. The major, now soaked to the skin and leaving a stream behindhim, strode up to the small counter where Phrosine was reading a novel. 

"You little wretch, " he yelled, "you have dared to gammon an officer;you deserve--"

And then he lifted his hand as if to deal a blow such as would havefelled an ox. The little maid shrank back, terrified, while the amazeddomino players looked, openmouthed. However, the major did not lingerthere--he pushed the divan door open and appeared before Melanie andBurle just as the widow was playfully making the captain sip his grogin small spoonfuls, as if she were feeding a pet canary. Only theex-magistrate and the chemist had come that evening, and they hadretired early in a melancholy frame of mind. Then Melanie, being inwant of three hundred francs for the morrow, had taken advantage of theopportunity to cajole the captain. 

"Come. " she said, "open your mouth; ain't it nice, you greedypiggy-wiggy?"

Burle, flushing scarlet, with glazed eyes and sunken figure, was suckingthe spoon with an air of intense enjoyment. 

"Good heavens!" roared the major from the threshold. "You now playtricks on me, do you? I'm sent to the roundabout and told that younever came here, and yet all the while here you are, addling your sillybrains. "

Burle shuddered, pushing the grog away, while Melanie stepped angrilyin front of him as if to shield him with her portly figure, but Laguittelooked at her with that quiet, resolute expression well known to womenwho are familiar with bodily chastisement. 

"Leave us, " he said curtly. 

She hesitated for the space of a second. She almost felt the gust ofthe expected blow, and then, white with rage, she joined Phrosine in theouter room. 

When the two men were alone Major Laguitte walked up to Burle, looked athim and, slightly stooping, yelled into his face these two words: "Youpig!"

The captain, quite dazed, endeavored to retort, but he had not time todo so. 

"Silence!" resumed the major. "You have bamboozled a friend. You palmedoff on me a lot of forged receipts which might have sent both of us tothe gallows. Do you call that proper behavior? Is that the sort of trickto play a friend of thirty years' standing?"

Burle, who had fallen back in his chair, was livid; his limbs shook asif with ague. Meanwhile the major, striding up and down and strikingthe tables wildly with his fists, continued: "So you have become a thieflike the veriest scribbling cur of a clerk, and all for the sake ofthat creature here! If at least you had stolen for your mother's sake itwould have been honorable! But, curse it, to play tricks and bring themoney into this shanty is what I cannot understand! Tell me--what areyou made of at your age to go to the dogs as you are going all for thesake of a creature like a grenadier!"

"YOU gamble--" stammered the captain. 

"Yes, I do--curse it!" thundered the major, lashed into still greaterfury by this remark. "And I am a pitiful rogue to do so, because itswallows up all my pay and doesn't redound to the honor of the Frencharmy. However, I don't steal. Kill yourself, if it pleases you; starveyour mother and the boy, but respect the regimental cashbox and don'tdrag your friends down with you. "

He stopped. Burle was sitting there with fixed eyes and a stupid air. Nothing was heard for a moment save the clatter of the major's heels. 

"And not a single copper, " he continued aggressively. "Can you pictureyourself between two gendarmes, eh?"

He then grew a little calmer, caught hold of Burle's wrists and forcedhim to rise. 

"Come!" he said gruffly. "Something must be done at once, for I cannotgo to bed with this affair on my mind--I have an idea. "

In the front room Melanie and Phrosine were talking eagerly in lowvoices. When the widow saw the two men leaving the divan she movedtoward Burle and said coaxingly: "What, are you going already, Captain?"

"Yes, he's going, " brutally answered Laguitte, "and I don't intend tolet him set foot here again. "

The little maid felt frightened and pulled her mistress back by theskirt of her dress; in doing so she imprudently murmured the word"drunkard" and thereby brought down the slap which the major's handhad been itching to deal for some time past. Both women having stooped, however, the blow only fell on Phrosine's back hair, flattening her capand breaking her comb. The domino players were indignant. 

"Let's cut it, " shouted Laguitte, and he pushed Burle on the pavement. "If I remained I should smash everyone in the place. "

To cross the square they had to wade up to their ankles in mud. Therain, driven by the wind, poured off their faces. The captain walked onin silence, while the major kept on reproaching him with his cowardiceand its disastrous consequences. Wasn't it sweet weather for trampingthe streets? If he hadn't been such an idiot they would both be warmlytucked in bed instead of paddling about in the mud. Then he spoke ofGagneux--a scoundrel whose diseased meat had on three separate occasionsmade the whole regiment ill. In a week, however, the contract would cometo an end, and the fiend himself would not get it renewed. 

"It rests with me, " the major grumbled. "I can select whomsoever Ichoose, and I'd rather cut off my right arm than put that poisoner inthe way of earning another copper. "

Just then he slipped into a gutter and, half choked by a string ofoaths, he gasped:

"You understand--I am going to rout up Gagneux. You must stop outsidewhile I go in. I must know what the rascal is up to and if he'll dare tocarry out his threat of informing the colonel tomorrow. A butcher--cursehim! The idea of compromising oneself with a butcher! Ah, you aren'tover-proud, and I shall never forgive you for all this. "

They had now reached the Place aux Herbes. Gagneux's house was quitedark, but Laguitte knocked so loudly that he was eventually admitted. Burle remained alone in the dense obscurity and did not even attempt toseek any shelter. He stood at a corner of the market under the peltingrain, his head filled with a loud buzzing noise which prevented himfrom thinking. He did not feel impatient, for he was unconscious of theflight of time. He stood there looking at the house, which, with itsclosed door and windows, seemed quite lifeless. When at the end of anhour the major came out again it appeared to the captain as if he hadonly just gone in. 

Laguitte was so grimly mute that Burle did not venture to question him. For a moment they sought each other, groping about in the dark; thenthey resumed their walk through the somber streets, where the waterrolled as in the bed of a torrent. They moved on in silence side byside, the major being so abstracted that he even forgot to swear. However, as they again crossed the Place du Palais, at the sight of theCafe de Paris, which was still lit up, he dropped his hand on Burle'sshoulder and said, "If you ever re-enter that hole I--"

"No fear!" answered the captain without letting his friend finish hissentence. 

Then he stretched out his hand. 

"No, no, " said Laguitte, "I'll see you home; I'll at least make surethat you'll sleep in your bed tonight. "

They went on, and as they ascended the Rue des Recollets they slackenedtheir pace. When the captain's door was reached and Burle had taken outhis latchkey he ventured to ask:

"Well?"

"Well, " answered the major gruffly, "I am as dirty a rogue as you are. Yes! I have done a scurrilous thing. The fiend take you! Our soldierswill eat carrion for three months longer. "

Then he explained that Gagneux, the disgusting Gagneux, had a horriblylevel head and that he had persuaded him--the major--to strike abargain. He would refrain from informing the colonel, and he wouldeven make a present of the two thousand francs and replace the forgedreceipts by genuine ones, on condition that the major bound himself torenew the meat contract. It was a settled thing. 

"Ah, " continued Laguitte, "calculate what profits the brute must makeout of the meat to part with such a sum as two thousand francs. "

Burle, choking with emotion, grasped his old friend's hands, stammeringconfused words of thanks. The vileness of the action committed for hissake brought tears into his eyes. 

"I never did such a thing before, " growled Laguitte, "but I was drivento it. Curse it, to think that I haven't those two thousand francs inmy drawer! It is enough to make one hate cards. It is my own fault. I amnot worth much; only, mark my words, don't begin again, for, curse it--Ishan't. "

The captain embraced him, and when he had entered the house the majorstood a moment before the closed door to make certain that he had goneupstairs to bed. Then as midnight was striking and the rain was stillbelaboring the dark town, he slowly turned homeward. The thought ofhis men almost broke his heart, and, stopping short, he said aloud in avoice full of compassion:

"Poor devils! what a lot of cow beef they'll have to swallow for thosetwo thousand francs!"

CHAPTER III

AGAIN?

The regiment was altogether nonplused: Petticoat Burle had quarreledwith Melanie. When a week had elapsed it became a proved and undeniablefact; the captain no longer set foot inside the Cafe de Paris, where thechemist, it was averred, once more reigned in his stead, to the profoundsorrow of the retired magistrate. An even more incredible statement wasthat Captain Burle led the life of a recluse in the Rue des Recollets. He was becoming a reformed character; he spent his evenings at his ownfireside, hearing little Charles repeat his lessons. His mother, whohad never breathed a word to him of his manipulations with Gagneux, maintained her old severity of demeanor as she sat opposite to himin her armchair, but her looks seemed to imply that she believed himreclaimed. 

A fortnight later Major Laguitte came one evening to invite himself todinner. He felt some awkwardness at the prospect of meeting Burleagain, not on his own account but because he dreaded awakening painfulmemories. However, as the captain was mending his ways he wished toshake hands and break a crust with him. He thought this would please hisold friend. 

When Laguitte arrived Burle was in his room, so it was the old lady whoreceived the major. The latter, after announcing that he had come tohave a plate of soup with them, added, lowering his voice:

"Well, how goes it?"

"It is all right, " answered the old lady. 

"Nothing queer?"

"Absolutely nothing. Never away--in bed at nine--and looking quitehappy. "

"Ah, confound it, " replied the major, "I knew very well he only wanted ashaking. He has some heart left, the dog!"

When Burle appeared he almost crushed the major's hands in his grasp, and standing before the fire, waiting for the dinner, they conversedpeacefully, honestly, together, extolling the charms of home life. Thecaptain vowed he wouldn't exchange his home for a kingdom and declaredthat when he had removed his braces, put on his slippers and settledhimself in his armchair, no king was fit to hold a candle to him. Themajor assented and examined him. At all events his virtuous conducthad not made him any thinner; he still looked bloated; his eyes werebleared, and his mouth was heavy. He seemed to be half asleep as herepeated mechanically: "Home life! There's nothing like home life, nothing in the world!"

"No doubt, " said the major; "still, one mustn't exaggerate--take alittle exercise and come to the cafe now and then. "

"To the cafe, why?" asked Burle. "Do I lack anything here? No, no, Iremain at home. "

When Charles had laid his books aside Laguitte was surprised to see amaid come in to lay the cloth. 

"So you keep a servant now, " he remarked to Mme Burle. 

"I had to get one, " she answered with a sigh. "My legs are not what theyused to be, and the household was going to rack and ruin. FortunatelyCabrol let me have his daughter. You know old Cabrol, who sweeps themarket? He did not know what to do with Rose--I am teaching her how towork. "

Just then the girl left the room. 

"How old is she?" asked the major. 

"Barely seventeen. She is stupid and dirty, but I only give her tenfrancs a month, and she eats nothing but soup. "

When Rose returned with an armful of plates Laguitte, though he did notcare about women, began to scrutinize her and was amazed at seeing sougly a creature. She was very short, very dark and slightly deformed, with a face like an ape's: a flat nose, a huge mouth and narrow greenisheyes. Her broad back and long arms gave her an appearance of greatstrength. 

"What a snout!" said Laguitte, laughing, when the maid had again leftthe room to fetch the cruets. 

"Never mind, " said Burle carelessly, "she is very obliging and does allone asks her. She suits us well enough as a scullion. "

The dinner was very pleasant. It consisted of boiled beef and muttonhash. Charles was encouraged to relate some stories of his school, andMme Burle repeatedly asked him the same question: "Don't you want tobe a soldier?" A faint smile hovered over the child's wan lips ashe answered with the frightened obedience of a trained dog, "Ohyes, Grandmother. " Captain Burle, with his elbows on the table, wasmasticating slowly with an absent-minded expression. The big room wasgetting warmer; the single lamp placed on the table left the corners invague gloom. There was a certain amount of heavy comfort, the familiarintimacy of penurious people who do not change their plates at everycourse but become joyously excited at the unexpected appearance of abowl of whipped egg cream at the close of the meal. 

Rose, whose heavy tread shook the floor as she paced round the table, had not yet opened her mouth. At last she stopped behind the captain'schair and asked in a gruff voice: "Cheese, sir?"

Burle started. "What, eh? Oh yes--cheese. Hold the plate tight. "

He cut a piece of Gruyere, the girl watching him the while with hernarrow eyes. Laguitte laughed; Rose's unparalleled ugliness amused himimmensely. He whispered in the captain's ear, "She is ripping! Therenever was such a nose and such a mouth! You ought to send her to thecolonel's someday as a curiosity. It would amuse him to see her. "

More and more struck by this phenomenal ugliness, the major felt apaternal desire to examine the girl more closely. 

"Come here, " he said, "I want some cheese too. "

She brought the plate, and Laguitte, sticking the knife in the Gruyere, stared at her, grinning the while because he discovered that she hadone nostril broader than the other. Rose gravely allowed herself to belooked at, waiting till the gentleman had done laughing. 

She removed the cloth and disappeared. Burle immediately went to sleepin the chimney corner while the major and Mme Burle began to chat. Charles had returned to his exercises. Quietude fell from the loftceiling; the quietude of a middle-class household gathered in concordaround their fireside. At nine o'clock Burle woke up, yawned andannounced that he was going off to bed; he apologized but declared thathe could not keep his eyes open. Half an hour later, when the major tookhis leave, Mme Burle vainly called for Rose to light him downstairs;the girl must have gone up to her room; she was, indeed, a regular hen, snoring the round of the clock without waking. 

"No need to disturb anybody, " said Laguitte on the landing; "my legs arenot much better than yours, but if I get hold of the banisters I shan'tbreak any bones. Now, my dear lady, I leave you happy; your troubles areended at last. I watched Burle closely, and I'll take my oath that he'sguileless as a child. Dash it--after all, it was high time for PetticoatBurle to reform; he was going downhill fast. "

The major went away fully satisfied with the house and its inmates;the walls were of glass and could harbor no equivocal conduct. Whatparticularly delighted him in his friend's return to virtue was that itabsolved him from the obligation of verifying the accounts. Nothing wasmore distasteful to him than the inspection of a number of ledgers, and as long as Burle kept steady, he--Laguitte--could smoke his pipein peace and sign the books in all confidence. However, he continuedto keep one eye open for a little while longer and found the receiptsgenuine, the entries correct, the columns admirably balanced. A monthlater he contented himself with glancing at the receipts and running hiseye over the totals. Then one morning, without the slightest suspicionof there being anything wrong, simply because he had lit a second pipeand had nothing to do, he carelessly added up a row of figures andfancied that he detected an error of thirteen francs. The balance seemedperfectly correct, and yet he was not mistaken; the total outlay wasthirteen francs more than the various sums for which receipts werefurnished. It looked queer, but he said nothing to Burle, just making uphis mind to examine the next accounts closely. On the following week hedetected a fresh error of nineteen francs, and then, suddenly becomingalarmed, he shut himself up with the books and spent a wretched morningporing over them, perspiring, swearing and feeling as if his very skullwere bursting with the figures. At every page he discovered thefts of afew francs--the most miserable petty thefts--ten, eight, eleven francs, latterly, three and four; and, indeed, there was one column showing thatBurle had pilfered just one franc and a half. For two months, however, he had been steadily robbing the cashbox, and by comparing dates themajor found to his disgust that the famous lesson respecting Gagneuxhad only kept him straight for one week! This last discovery infuriatedLaguitte, who struck the books with his clenched fists, yelling througha shower of oaths:

"This is more abominable still! At least there was some pluck aboutthose forged receipts of Gagneux. But this time he is as contemptibleas a cook charging twopence extra for her cabbages. Powers of hell! Topilfer a franc and a half and clap it in his pocket! Hasn't the brutegot any pride then? Couldn't he run away with the safe or play the foolwith actresses?"

The pitiful meanness of these pilferings revolted the major, and, moreover, he was enraged at having been duped a second time, deceivedby the simple, stupid dodge of falsified additions. He rose at last andpaced his office for a whole hour, growling aloud. 

"This gives me his measure. Even if I were to thresh him to a jellyevery morning he would still drop a couple of coins into his pocketevery afternoon. But where can he spend it all? He is never seen abroad;he goes to bed at nine, and everything looks so clean and proper overthere. Can the brute have vices that nobody knows of?"

He returned to the desk, added up the subtracted money and found a totalof five hundred and forty-five francs. Where was this deficiency to comefrom? The inspection was close at hand, and if the crotchety colonelshould take it into his head to examine a single page, the murder wouldbe out and Burle would be done for. 

This idea froze the major, who left off cursing, picturing Mme Burleerect and despairing, and at the same time he felt his heart swell withpersonal grief and shame. 

"Well, " he muttered, "I must first of all look into the rogue'sbusiness; I will act afterward. "

As he walked over to Burle's office he caught sight of a skirt vanishingthrough the doorway. Fancying that he had a clue to the mystery, heslipped up quietly and listened and speedily recognized Melanie's shrillvoice. She was complaining of the gentlemen of the divan. She had signeda promissory note which she was unable to meet; the bailiffs were inthe house, and all her goods would be sold. The captain, however, barelyreplied to her. He alleged that he had no money, whereupon she burstinto tears and began to coax him. But her blandishments were apparentlyineffectual, for Burle's husky voice could be heard repeating, "Impossible! Impossible!" And finally the widow withdrew in a toweringpassion. The major, amazed at the turn affairs were taking, waited afew moments longer before entering the office, where Burle had remainedalone. He found him very calm, and despite his furious inclination tocall him names he also remained calm, determined to begin by finding outthe exact truth. 

The office certainly did not look like a swindler's den. A cane-seatedchair, covered with an honest leather cushion, stood before thecaptain's desk, and in a corner there was the locked safe. Summer wascoming on, and the song of a canary sounded through the open window. Theapartment was very neat and tidy, redolent of old papers, and altogetherits appearance inspired one with confidence. 

"Wasn't it Melanie who was leaving here as I came along?" askedLaguitte. 

Burle shrugged his shoulders. 

"Yes, " he mumbled. "She has been dunning me for two hundred francs, butshe can't screw ten out of me--not even tenpence. "

"Indeed!" said the major, just to try him. "I heard that you had made upwith her. "

"I? Certainly not. I have done with the likes of her for good. "

Laguitte went away, feeling greatly perplexed. Where had the fivehundred and forty-five francs gone? Had the idiot taken to drinking orgambling? He decided to pay Burle a surprise visit that very eveningat his own house, and maybe by questioning his mother he might learnsomething. However, during the afternoon his leg became very painful;latterly he had been feeling in ill-health, and he had to use a stick soas not to limp too outrageously. This stick grieved him sorely, and hedeclared with angry despair that he was now no better than a pensioner. However, toward the evening, making a strong effort, he pulled himselfout of his armchair and, leaning heavily on his stick, dragged himselfthrough the darkness to the Rue des Recollets, which he reached aboutnine o'clock. The street door was still unlocked, and on going up hestood panting on the third landing, when he heard voices on the upperfloor. One of these voices was Burle's, so he fancied, and out ofcuriosity he ascended another flight of stairs. Then at the end of apassage on the left he saw a ray of light coming from a door which stoodajar. As the creaking of his boots resounded, this door was sharplyclosed, and he found himself in the dark. 

"Some cook going to bed!" he muttered angrily. "I'm a fool. "

All the same he groped his way as gently as possible to the door andlistened. Two people were talking in the room, and he stood aghast, for it was Burle and that fright Rose! Then he listened, and theconversation he heard left him no doubt of the awful truth. For a momenthe lifted his stick as if to beat down the door. Then he shuddered and, staggering back, leaned against the wall. His legs were trembling underhim, while in the darkness of the staircase he brandished his stick asif it had been a saber. 

What was to be done? After his first moment of passion there had comethoughts of the poor old lady below. And these made him hesitate. Itwas all over with the captain now; when a man sank as low as that he washardly worth the few shovelfuls of earth that are thrown over carrionto prevent them from polluting the atmosphere. Whatever might be said ofBurle, however much one might try to shame him, he would assuredly beginthe next day. Ah, heavens, to think of it! The money! The honor of thearmy! The name of Burle, that respected name, dragged through the mire!By all that was holy this could and should not be!

Presently the major softened. If he had only possessed five hundred andforty-five francs! But he had not got such an amount. On the previousday he had drunk too much cognac, just like a mere sub, and had lostshockingly at cards. It served him right--he ought to have known better!And if he was so lame he richly deserved it too; by rights, in fact, hisleg ought to be much worse. 

At last he crept downstairs and rang at the bell of Mme Burle's flat. Five minutes elapsed, and then the old lady appeared. 

"I beg your pardon for keeping you waiting, " she said; "I thought thatdormouse Rose was still about. I must go and shake her. "

But the major detained her. 

"Where is Burle?" he asked. 

"Oh, he has been snoring since nine o'clock. Would you like to knock athis door?"

"No, no, I only wanted to have a chat with you. "

In the parlor Charles sat at his usual place, having just finished hisexercises. He looked terrified, and his poor little white hands weretremulous. In point of fact, his grandmother, before sending him to bed, was wont to read some martial stories aloud so as to develop the latentfamily heroism in his bosom. That night she had selected the episode ofthe Vengeur, the man-of-war freighted with dying heroes and sinking intothe sea. The child, while listening, had become almost hysterical, andhis head was racked as with some ghastly nightmare. 

Mme Burle asked the major to let her finish the perusal. "Long live therepublic!" She solemnly closed the volume. Charles was as white as asheet. 

"You see, " said the old lady, "the duty of every French soldier is todie for his country. "

"Yes, Grandmother. "

Then the lad kissed her on the forehead and, shivering with fear, wentto bed in his big room, where the faintest creak of the paneling threwhim into a cold sweat. 

The major had listened with a grave face. Yes, by heavens! Honor washonor, and he would never permit that wretched Burle to disgrace the oldwoman and the boy! As the lad was so devoted to the military profession, it was necessary that he should be able to enter Saint-Cyr with his headerect. 

When Mme Burle took up the lamp to show the major out, she passed thedoor of the captain's room, and stopped short, surprised to see the keyoutside, which was a most unusual occurrence. 

"Do go in, " she said to Laguitte; "it is bad for him to sleep so much. "

And before he could interpose she had opened the door and stoodtransfixed on finding the room empty. Laguitte turned crimson and lookedso foolish that she suddenly understood everything, enlightened bythe sudden recollection of several little incidents to which she hadpreviously attached no importance. 

"You knew it--you knew it!" she stammered. "Why was I not told? Oh, myGod, to think of it! Ah, he has been stealing again--I feel it!"

She remained erect, white and rigid. Then she added in a harsh voice:

"Look you--I wish he were dead!"

Laguitte caught hold of both her hands, which for a moment he kepttightly clasped in his own. Then he left her hurriedly, for he felt alump rising in his throat and tears coming to his eyes. Ah, by all thepowers, this time his mind was quite made up. 

CHAPTER IV

INSPECTION

The regimental inspection was to take place at the end of the month. The major had ten days before him. On the very next morning, however, he crawled, limping, as far as the Cafe de Paris, where he ordered somebeer. Melanie grew pale when she saw him enter, and it was with a livelyrecollection of a certain slap that Phrosine hastened to serve him. Themajor seemed very calm, however; he called for a second chair to resthis bad leg upon and drank his beer quietly like any other thirsty man. He had sat there for about an hour when he saw two officers crossing thePlace du Palais--Morandot, who commanded one of the battalions of theregiment, and Captain Doucet. Thereupon he excitedly waved his cane andshouted: "Come in and have a glass of beer with me!"

The officers dared not refuse, but when the maid had brought the beerMorandot said to the major: "So you patronize this place now?"

"Yes--the beer is good. "

Captain Doucet winked and asked archly: "Do you belong to the divan, Major?"

Laguitte chuckled but did not answer. Then the others began to chaffhim about Melanie, and he took their remarks good-naturedly, simplyshrugging his shoulders. The widow was undoubtedly a fine woman, howevermuch people might talk. Some of those who disparaged her would, inreality, be only too pleased to win her good graces. Then turning to thelittle counter and assuming an engaging air, he shouted:

"Three more glasses, madame. "

Melanie was so taken aback that she rose and brought the beer herself. The major detained her at the table and forgot himself so far as tosoftly pat the hand which she had carelessly placed on the back ofa chair. Used as she was to alternate brutality and flattery, sheimmediately became confident, believing in a sudden whim of gallantryon the part of the "old wreck, " as she was wont to style the majorwhen talking with Phrosine. Doucet and Morandot looked at each other insurprise. Was the major actually stepping into Petticoat Burle's shoes?The regiment would be convulsed if that were the case. 

Suddenly, however, Laguitte, who kept his eye on the square, gave astart. 

"Hallo, there's Burle!" he exclaimed. 

"Yes, it is his time, " explained Phrosine. "The captain passes everyafternoon on his way from the office. "

In spite of his lameness the major had risen to his feet, pushingaside the chairs as he called out: "Burle! I say--come along and have aglass. "

The captain, quite aghast and unable to understand why Laguitte was atthe widow's, advanced mechanically. He was so perplexed that he againhesitated at the door. 

"Another glass of beer, " ordered the major, and then turning to Burle, he added, "What's the matter with you? Come in. Are you afraid of beingeaten alive?"

The captain took a seat, and an awkward pause followed. Melanie, whobrought the beer with trembling hands, dreaded some scene which mightresult in the closing of her establishment. The major's gallantry madeher uneasy, and she endeavored to slip away, but he invited her to drinkwith them, and before she could refuse he had ordered Phrosine to bringa liqueur glass of anisette, doing so with as much coolness as if he hadbeen master of the house. Melanie was thus compelled to sit down betweenthe captain and Laguitte, who exclaimed aggressively: "I WILL haveladies respected. We are French officers! Let us drink Madame's health!"

Burle, with his eyes fixed on his glass, smiled in an embarrassed way. The two officers, shocked at the proceedings, had already tried to getoff. Fortunately the cafe was deserted, save that the domino playerswere having their afternoon game. At every fresh oath which came fromthe major they glanced around, scandalized by such an unusual accessionof customers and ready to threaten Melanie that they would leave her forthe Cafe de la Gare if the soldiery was going to invade her place likeflies that buzzed about, attracted by the stickiness of the tables whichPhrosine scoured only on Saturdays. She was now reclining behind thecounter, already reading a novel again. 

"How's this--you are not drinking with Madame?" roughly said the majorto Burle. "Be civil at least!"

Then as Doucet and Morandot were again preparing to leave, he stoppedthem. 

"Why can't you wait? We'll go together. It is only this brute who neverknows how to behave himself. "

The two officers looked surprised at the major's sudden bad temper. Melanie attempted to restore peace and with a light laugh placed herhands on the arms of both men. However, Laguitte disengaged himself. 

"No, " he roared, "leave me alone. Why does he refuse to chink glasseswith you? I shall not allow you to be insulted--do you hear? I am quitesick of him. "

Burle, paling under the insult, turned slightly and said to Morandot, "What does this mean? He calls me in here to insult me. Is he drunk?"

With a wild oath the major rose on his trembling legs and struck thecaptain's cheek with his open hand. Melanie dived and thus escaped onehalf of the smack. An appalling uproar ensued. Phrosine screamed behindthe counter as if she herself had received the blow; the domino playersalso entrenched themselves behind their table in fear lest the soldiersshould draw their swords and massacre them. However, Doucet and Morandotpinioned the captain to prevent him from springing at the major'sthroat and forcibly let him to the door. When they got him outside theysucceeded in quieting him a little by repeating that Laguitte was quitein the wrong. They would lay the affair before the colonel, havingwitnessed it, and the colonel would give his decision. As soon as theyhad got Burle away they returned to the cafe where they found Laguittein reality greatly disturbed, with tears in his eyes but affectingstolid indifference and slowly finishing his beer. 

"Listen, Major, " began Morandot, "that was very wrong on your part. Thecaptain is your inferior in rank, and you know that he won't be allowedto fight you. "

"That remains to be seen, " answered the major. 

"But how has he offended you? He never uttered a word. Two old comradestoo; it is absurd. "

The major made a vague gesture. "No matter. He annoyed me. "

He could never be made to say anything else. Nothing more as to hismotive was ever known. All the same, the scandal was a terrible one. Theregiment was inclined to believe that Melanie, incensed by thecaptain's defection, had contrived to entrap the major, telling him someabominable stories and prevailing upon him to insult and strike Burlepublicly. Who would have thought it of that old fogy Laguitte, whoprofessed to be a woman hater? they said. So he, too, had been caughtat last. Despite the general indignation against Melanie, thisadventure made her very conspicuous, and her establishment soon drove aflourishing business. 

On the following day the colonel summoned the major and the captaininto his presence. He censured them sternly, accusing them of disgracingtheir uniform by frequenting unseemly haunts. What resolution had theycome to, he asked, as he could not authorize them to fight? This samequestion had occupied the whole regiment for the last twenty-four hours. Apologies were unacceptable on account of the blow, but as Laguitte wasalmost unable to stand, it was hoped that, should the colonel insistupon it, some reconciliation might be patched up. 

"Come, " said the colonel, "will you accept me as arbitrator?"

"I beg your pardon, Colonel, " interrupted the major; "I have brought youmy resignation. Here it is. That settles everything. Please name the dayfor the duel. "

Burle looked at Laguitte in amazement, and the colonel thought it hisduty to protest. 

"This is a most serious step, Major, " he began. "Two years more and youwould be entitled to your full pension. "

But again did Laguitte cut him short, saying gruffly, "That is my ownaffair. "

"Oh, certainly! Well, I will send in your resignation, and as soon as itis accepted I will fix a day for the duel. "

The unexpected turn that events had taken startled the regiment. Whatpossessed that lunatic major to persist in cutting the throat of his oldcomrade Burle? The officers again discussed Melanie; they even began todream of her. There must surely be something wonderful about her sinceshe had completely fascinated two such tough old veterans and broughtthem to a deadly feud. Morandot, having met Laguitte, did not disguisehis concern. If he--the major--was not killed, what would he live upon?He had no fortune, and the pension to which his cross of the Legion ofHonor entitled him, with the half of a full regimental pension whichhe would obtain on resigning, would barely find him in bread. WhileMorandot was thus speaking Laguitte simply stared before him with hisround eyes, persevering in the dumb obstinacy born of his narrow mind;and when his companion tried to question him regarding his hatred forBurle, he simply made the same vague gesture as before and once againrepeated:

"He annoyed me; so much the worse. "

Every morning at mess and at the canteen the first words were: "Has theacceptance of the major's resignation arrived?" The duel was impatientlyexpected and ardently discussed. The majority believed that Laguittewould be run through the body in three seconds, for it was madness for aman to fight with a paralyzed leg which did not even allow him to standupright. A few, however, shook their heads. Laguitte had never been amarvel of intellect, that was true; for the last twenty years, indeed, he had been held up as an example of stupidity, but there had been atime when he was known as the best fencer of the regiment, and althoughhe had begun as a drummer he had won his epaulets as the commander of abattalion by the sanguine bravery of a man who is quite unconscious ofdanger. On the other hand, Burle fenced indifferently and passed for apoltroon. However, they would soon know what to think. 

Meanwhile the excitement became more and more intense as the acceptanceof Laguitte's resignation was so long in coming. The major wasunmistakably the most anxious and upset of everybody. A week had passedby, and the general inspection would commence two days later. Nothing, however, had come as yet. He shuddered at the thought that he had, perhaps, struck his old friend and sent in his resignation all in vain, without delaying the exposure for a single minute. He had in realityreasoned thus: If he himself were killed he would not have the worry ofwitnessing the scandal, and if he killed Burle, as he expected to do, the affair would undoubtedly be hushed up. Thus he would save the honorof the army, and the little chap would be able to get in at Saint-Cyr. Ah, why wouldn't those wretched scribblers at the War Office hurry upa bit? The major could not keep still but was forever wandering aboutbefore the post office, stopping the estafettes and questioning thecolonel's orderly to find out if the acceptance had arrived. He losthis sleep and, careless as to people's remarks, he leaned more and moreheavily on his stick, hobbling about with no attempt to steady his gait. 

On the day before that fixed for the inspection he was, as usual, on hisway to the colonel's quarters when he paused, startled, to see Mme Burle(who was taking Charles to school) a few paces ahead of him. He had notmet her since the scene at the Cafe de Paris, for she had remained inseclusion at home. Unmanned at thus meeting her, he stepped down toleave the whole sidewalk free. Neither he nor the old lady bowed, andthe little boy lifted his large inquisitive eyes in mute surprise. MmeBurle, cold and erect, brushed past the major without the least sign ofemotion or recognition. When she had passed he looked after her with anexpression of stupefied compassion. 

"Confound it, I am no longer a man, " he growled, dashing away a tear. 

When he arrived at the colonel's quarters a captain in attendancegreeted him with the words: "It's all right at last. The papers havecome. "

"Ah!" murmured Laguitte, growing very pale. 

And again he beheld the old lady walking on, relentlessly rigid andholding the little boy's hand. What! He had longed so eagerly for thosepapers for eight days past, and now when the scraps had come he felt hisbrain on fire and his heart lacerated. 

The duel took place on the morrow, in the barrack yard behind a lowwall. The air was keen, the sun shining brightly. Laguitte had almost tobe carried to the ground; one of his seconds supported him on one side, while on the other he leaned heavily, on his stick. Burle looked halfasleep; his face was puffy with unhealthy fat, as if he had spent anight of debauchery. Not a word was spoken. They were all anxious tohave it over. 

Captain Doucet crossed the swords of the two adversaries and then drewback, saying: "Set to, gentlemen. "

Burle was the first to attack; he wanted to test Laguitte's strength andascertain what he had to expect. For the last ten days the encounter hadseemed to him a ghastly nightmare which he could not fathom. At times ahideous suspicion assailed him, but he put it aside with terror, for itmeant death, and he refused to believe that a friend could play him sucha trick, even to set things right. Besides, Laguitte's leg reasssuredhim; he would prick the major on the shoulder, and then all would beover. 

During well-nigh a couple of minutes the swords clashed, and then thecaptain lunged, but the major, recovering his old suppleness of wrist, parried in a masterly style, and if he had returned the attack Burlewould have been pierced through. The captain now fell back; he waslivid, for he felt that he was at the mercy of the man who had justspared him. At last he understood that this was an execution. 

Laguitte, squarely poised on his infirm legs and seemingly turned tostone, stood waiting. The two men looked at each other fixedly. InBurle's blurred eyes there arose a supplication--a prayer for pardon. He knew why he was going to die, and like a child he promised not totransgress again. But the major's eyes remained implacable; honor hadspoken, and he silenced his emotion and his pity. 

"Let it end, " he muttered between his teeth. 

Then it was he who attacked. Like a flash of lightning his sword flamed, flying from right to left, and then with a resistless thrust it piercedthe breast of the captain, who fell like a log without even a groan. 

Laguitte had released his hold upon his sword and stood gazing at thatpoor old rascal Burle, who was stretched upon his back with his fatstomach bulging out. 

"Oh, my God! My God!" repeated the major furiously and despairingly, andthen he began to swear. 

They led him away, and, both his legs failing him, he had to besupported on either side, for he could not even use his stick. 

Two months later the ex-major was crawling slowly along in the sunlightdown a lonely street of Vauchamp, when he again found himself face toface with Mme Burle and little Charles. They were both in deep mourning. He tried to avoid them, but he now only walked with difficulty, and theyadvanced straight upon him without hurrying or slackening their steps. Charles still had the same gentle, girlish, frightened face, and MmeBurle retained her stern, rigid demeanor, looking even harsher thanever. 

As Laguitte shrank into the corner of a doorway to leave the wholestreet to them, she abruptly stopped in front of him and stretched outher hand. He hesitated and then took it and pressed it, but he trembledso violently that he made the old lady's arm shake. They exchangedglances in silence. 

"Charles, " said the boy's grandmother at last, "shake hands with themajor. " The boy obeyed without understanding. The major, who was verypale, barely ventured to touch the child's frail fingers; then, feelingthat he ought to speak, he stammered out: "You still intend to send himto Saint-Cyr?"

"Of course, when he is old enough, " answered Mme Burle. 

But during the following week Charles was carried off by typhoid fever. One evening his grandmother had again read him the story of the Vengeurto make him bold, and in the night he had become delirious. The poorlittle fellow died of fright. 

THE DEATH OF OLIVIER BECAILLE

CHAPTER I

MY PASSING

It was on a Saturday, at six in the morning, that I died after a threedays' illness. My wife was searching a trunk for some linen, and whenshe rose and turned she saw me rigid, with open eyes and silent pulses. She ran to me, fancying that I had fainted, touched my hands and bentover me. Then she suddenly grew alarmed, burst into tears and stammered:

"My God, my God! He is dead!"

I heard everything, but the sounds seemed to come from a great distance. My left eye still detected a faint glimmer, a whitish light in which allobjects melted, but my right eye was quite bereft of sight. It was thecoma of my whole being, as if a thunderbolt had struck me. My will wasannihilated; not a fiber of flesh obeyed my bidding. And yet amid theimpotency of my inert limbs my thoughts subsisted, sluggish and lazy, still perfectly clear. 

My poor Marguerite was crying; she had dropped on her knees beside thebed, repeating in heart-rending tones:

"He is dead! My God, he is dead!"

Was this strange state of torpor, this immobility of the flesh, reallydeath, although the functions of the intellect were not arrested? Wasmy soul only lingering for a brief space before it soared away forever?From my childhood upward I had been subject to hysterical attacks, and twice in early youth I had nearly succumbed to nervous fevers. Bydegrees all those who surrounded me had got accustomed to consider me aninvalid and to see me sickly. So much so that I myself had forbidden mywife to call in a doctor when I had taken to my bed on the day of ourarrival at the cheap lodginghouse of the Rue Dauphine in Paris. A littlerest would soon set me right again; it was only the fatigue of thejourney which had caused my intolerable weariness. And yet I wasconscious of having felt singularly uneasy. We had left our provincesomewhat abruptly; we were very poor and had barely enough money tosupport ourselves till I drew my first month's salary in the officewhere I had obtained a situation. And now a sudden seizure was carryingme off!

Was it really death? I had pictured to myself a darker night, a deepersilence. As a little child I had already felt afraid to die. Being weakand compassionately petted by everyone, I had concluded that I had notlong to live, that I should soon be buried, and the thought of the coldearth filled me with a dread I could not master--a dread which hauntedme day and night. As I grew older the same terror pursued me. Sometimes, after long hours spent in reasoning with myself, I thought that I hadconquered my fear. I reflected, "After all, what does it matter? Onedies and all is over. It is the common fate; nothing could be better oreasier. "

I then prided myself on being able to look death boldly in the face, butsuddenly a shiver froze my blood, and my dizzy anguish returned, as ifa giant hand had swung me over a dark abyss. It was some vision of theearth returning and setting reason at naught. How often at night did Istart up in bed, not knowing what cold breath had swept over my slumbersbut clasping my despairing hands and moaning, "Must I die?" In thosemoments an icy horror would stop my pulses while an appalling vision ofdissolution rose before me. It was with difficulty that I could get tosleep again. Indeed, sleep alarmed me; it so closely resembled death. If I closed my eyes they might never open again--I might slumber onforever. 

I cannot tell if others have endured the same torture; I only know thatmy own life was made a torment by it. Death ever rose between me andall I loved; I can remember how the thought of it poisoned the happiestmoments I spent with Marguerite. During the first months of our marriedlife, when she lay sleeping by my side and I dreamed of a fair futurefor her and with her, the foreboding of some fatal separation dashed myhopes aside and embittered my delights. Perhaps we should be parted onthe morrow--nay, perhaps in an hour's time. Then utter discouragementassailed me; I wondered what the bliss of being united availed me if itwere to end in so cruel a disruption. 

My morbid imagination reveled in scenes of mourning. I speculated as towho would be the first to depart, Marguerite or I. Either alternativecaused me harrowing grief, and tears rose to my eyes at the thought ofour shattered lives. At the happiest periods of my existence I oftenbecame a prey to grim dejection such as nobody could understand butwhich was caused by the thought of impending nihility. When I was mostsuccessful I was to general wonder most depressed. The fatal question, "What avails it?" rang like a knell in my ears. But the sharpest stingof this torment was that it came with a secret sense of shame, whichrendered me unable to confide my thoughts to another. Husband and wifelying side by side in the darkened room may quiver with the same shudderand yet remain mute, for people do not mention death any more than theypronounce certain obscene words. Fear makes it nameless. 

I was musing thus while my dear Marguerite knelt sobbing at my feet. It grieved me sorely to be unable to comfort her by telling her that Isuffered no pain. If death were merely the annihilation of the flesh ithad been foolish of me to harbor so much dread. I experienced a selfishkind of restfulness in which all my cares were forgotten. My memory hadbecome extraordinarily vivid. My whole life passed before me rapidlylike a play in which I no longer acted a part; it was a curious andenjoyable sensation--I seemed to hear a far-off voice relating my ownhistory. 

I saw in particular a certain spot in the country near Guerande, on theway to Piriac. The road turns sharply, and some scattered pine treescarelessly dot a rocky slope. When I was seven years old I used to passthrough those pines with my father as far as a crumbling old house, where Marguerite's parents gave me pancakes. They were salt gatherersand earned a scanty livelihood by working the adjacent salt marshes. Then I remembered the school at Nantes, where I had grown up, leadinga monotonous life within its ancient walls and yearning for the broadhorizon of Guerande and the salt marshes stretching to the limitless seawidening under the sky. 

Next came a blank--my father was dead. I entered the hospital as clerkto the managing board and led a dreary life with one solitary diversion:my Sunday visits to the old house on Piriac road. The saltworks weredoing badly; poverty reigned in the land, and Marguerite's parents werenearly penniless. Marguerite, when merely a child, had been fond of mebecause I trundled her about in a wheelbarrow, but on the morning when Iasked her in marriage she shrank from me with a frightened gesture, andI realized that she thought me hideous. Her parents, however, consentedat once; they looked upon my offer as a godsend, and the daughtersubmissively acquiesced. When she became accustomed to the idea ofmarrying me she did not seem to dislike it so much. On our wedding dayat Guerande the rain fell in torrents, and when we got home my bridehad to take off her dress, which was soaked through, and sit in herpetticoats. 

That was all the youth I ever had. We did not remain long in ourprovince. One day I found my wife in tears. She was miserable; life wasso dull; she wanted to get away. Six months later I had saved a littlemoney by taking in extra work after office hours, and through theinfluence of a friend of my father's I obtained a petty appointment inParis. I started off to settle there with the dear little woman sothat she might cry no more. During the night, which we spent in thethird-class railway carriage, the seats being very hard, I took her inmy arms in order that she might sleep. 

That was the past, and now I had just died on the narrow couch of aParis lodginghouse, and my wife was crouching on the floor, cryingbitterly. The white light before my left eye was growing dim, but Iremembered the room perfectly. On the left there was a chest of drawers, on the right a mantelpiece surmounted by a damaged clock without apendulum, the hands of which marked ten minutes past ten. The windowoverlooked the Rue Dauphine, a long, dark street. All Paris seemed topass below, and the noise was so great that the window shook. 

We knew nobody in the city; we had hurried our departure, but I was notexpected at the office till the following Monday. Since I had taken tomy bed I had wondered at my imprisonment in this narrow room into whichwe had tumbled after a railway journey of fifteen hours, followed by ahurried, confusing transit through the noisy streets. My wife had nursedme with smiling tenderness, but I knew that she was anxious. She wouldwalk to the window, glance out and return to the bedside, looking verypale and startled by the sight of the busy thoroughfare, the aspectof the vast city of which she did not know a single stone and whichdeafened her with its continuous roar. What would happen to her if Inever woke up again--alone, friendless and unknowing as she was?

Marguerite had caught hold of one of my hands which lay passive on thecoverlet, and, covering it with kisses, she repeated wildly: "Olivier, answer me. Oh, my God, he is dead, dead!"

So death was not complete annihilation. I could hear and think. I hadbeen uselessly alarmed all those years. I had not dropped into uttervacancy as I had anticipated. I could not picture the disappearanceof my being, the suppression of all that I had been, without thepossibility of renewed existence. I had been wont to shudder whenever inany book or newspaper I came across a date of a hundred years hence. Adate at which I should no longer be alive, a future which I should neversee, filled me with unspeakable uneasiness. Was I not the whole world, and would not the universe crumble away when I was no more?

To dream of life had been a cherished vision, but this could notpossibly be death. I should assuredly awake presently. Yes, in a fewmoments I would lean over, take Marguerite in my arms and dry her tears. I would rest a little while longer before going to my office, and thena new life would begin, brighter than the last. However, I did not feelimpatient; the commotion had been too strong. It was wrong of Margueriteto give way like that when I had not even the strength to turn my headon the pillow and smile at her. The next time that she moaned out, "He is dead! Dead!" I would embrace her and murmur softly so as not tostartle her: "No, my darling, I was only asleep. You see, I am alive, and I love you. "

CHAPTER II

FUNERAL PREPARATIONS

Marguerite's cries had attracted attention, for all at once the doorwas opened and a voice exclaimed: "What is the matter, neighbor? Is heworse?"

I recognized the voice; it was that of an elderly woman, Mme Gabin, whooccupied a room on the same floor. She had been most obliging since ourarrival and had evidently become interested in our concerns. On her ownside she had lost no time in telling us her history. A stern landlordhad sold her furniture during the previous winter to pay himself hisrent, and since then she had resided at the lodginghouse in the RueDauphine with her daughter Dede, a child of ten. They both cut andpinked lamp shades, and between them they earned at the utmost only twofrancs a day. 

"Heavens! Is it all over?" cried Mme Gabin, looking at me. 

I realized that she was drawing nearer. She examined me, touched me and, turning to Marguerite, murmured compassionately: "Poor girl! Poor girl!"

My wife, wearied out, was sobbing like a child. Mme Gabin lifted her, placed her in a dilapidated armchair near the fireplace and proceeded tocomfort her. 

"Indeed, you'll do yourself harm if you go on like this, my dear. It'sno reason because your husband is gone that you should kill yourselfwith weeping. Sure enough, when I lost Gabin I was just like you. Iremained three days without swallowing a morsel of food. But that didn'thelp me--on the contrary, it pulled me down. Come, for the Lord's sake, be sensible!"

By degrees Marguerite grew calmer; she was exhausted, and it was only atintervals that she gave way to a fresh flow of tears. Meanwhile the oldwoman had taken possession of the room with a sort of rough authority. 

"Don't worry yourself, " she said as she bustled about. "Neighbors musthelp each other. Luckily Dede has just gone to take the work home. Ah, I see your trunks are not yet all unpacked, but I suppose there is somelinen in the chest of drawers, isn't there?"

I heard her pull a drawer open; she must have taken out a napkin whichshe spread on the little table at the bedside. She then struck a match, which made me think that she was lighting one of the candles on themantelpiece and placing it near me as a religious rite. I could followher movements in the room and divine all her actions. 

"Poor gentleman, " she muttered. "Luckily I heard you sobbing, poordear!" Suddenly the vague light which my left eye had detected vanished. Mme Gabin had just closed my eyelids, but I had not felt her finger onmy face. When I understood this I felt chilled. 

The door had opened again, and Dede, the child of ten, now rushed in, calling out in her shrill voice: "Mother, Mother! Ah, I knew you wouldbe here! Look here, there's the money--three francs and four sous. Itook back three dozen lamp shades. "

"Hush, hush! Hold your tongue, " vainly repeated the mother, who, as thelittle girl chattered on, must have pointed to the bed, for I guessedthat the child felt perplexed and was backing toward the door. 

"Is the gentleman asleep?" she whispered. 

"Yes, yes--go and play, " said Mme Gabin. 

But the child did not go. She was, no doubt, staring at me with widelyopened eyes, startled and vaguely comprehending. Suddenly she seemedconvulsed with terror and ran out, upsetting a chair. 

"He is dead, Mother; he is dead!" she gasped. 

Profound silence followed. Marguerite, lying back in the armchair, had left off crying. Mme Gabin was still rummaging about the room andtalking under her breath. 

"Children know everything nowadays. Look at that girl. Heaven knows howcarefully she's brought up! When I send her on an errand or take theshades back I calculate the time to a minute so that she can't loiterabout, but for all that she learns everything. She saw at a glance whathad happened here--and yet I never showed her but one corpse, that ofher uncle Francois, and she was then only four years old. Ah well, thereare no children left--it can't be helped. "

She paused and without any transition passed to another subject. 

"I say, dearie, we must think of the formalities--there's thedeclaration at the municipal offices to be made and the seeing about thefuneral. You are not in a fit state to attend to business. What do yousay if I look in at Monsieur Simoneau's to find out if he's at home?"

Marguerite did not reply. It seemed to me that I watched her from afarand at times changed into a subtle flame hovering above the room, whilea stranger lay heavy and unconscious on my bed. I wished that Margueritehad declined the assistance of Simoneau. I had seen him three or fourtimes during my brief illness, for he occupied a room close to ours andhad been civil and neighborly. Mme Gabin had told us that he was merelymaking a short stay in Paris, having come to collect some old debts dueto his father, who had settled in the country and recently died. He wasa tall, strong, handsome young man, and I hated him, perhaps on accountof his healthy appearance. On the previous evening he had come in tomake inquiries, and I had much disliked seeing him at Marguerite's side;she had looked so fair and pretty, and he had gazed so intently into herface when she smilingly thanked him for his kindness. 

"Ah, here is Monsieur Simoneau, " said Mme Gabin, introducing him. 

He gently pushed the door ajar, and as soon as Marguerite saw him entershe burst into a flood of tears. The presence of a friend, of theonly person she knew in Paris besides the old woman, recalled herbereavement. I could not see the young man, but in the darkness thatencompassed me I conjured up his appearance. I pictured him distinctly, grave and sad at finding poor Marguerite in such distress. How lovelyshe must have looked with her golden hair unbound, her pale face and herdear little baby hands burning with fever!

"I am at your disposal, madame, " he said softly. "Pray allow me tomanage everything. "

She only answered him with broken words, but as the young man wasleaving, accompanied by Mme Gabin, I heard the latter mention money. These things were always expensive, she said, and she feared thatthe poor little body hadn't a farthing--anyhow, he might ask her. ButSimoneau silenced the old woman; he did not want to have the widowworried; he was going to the municipal office and to the undertaker's. 

When silence reigned once more I wondered if my nightmare would lastmuch longer. I was certainly alive, for I was conscious of passingincidents, and I began to realize my condition. I must have fallen intoone of those cataleptic states that I had read of. As a child I hadsuffered from syncopes which had lasted several hours, but surely myheart would beat anew, my blood circulate and my muscles relax. Yes, Ishould wake up and comfort Marguerite, and, reasoning thus, I tried tobe patient. 

Time passed. Mme Gabin had brought in some breakfast, but Margueriterefused to taste any food. Later on the afternoon waned. Through theopen window I heard the rising clamor of the Rue Dauphine. By and by aslight ringing of the brass candlestick on the marble-topped tablemade me think that a fresh candle had been lighted. At last Simoneaureturned. 

"Well?" whispered the old woman. 

"It is all settled, " he answered; "the funeral is ordered for tomorrowat eleven. There is nothing for you to do, and you needn't talk of thesethings before the poor lady. "

Nevertheless, Mme Gabin remarked: "The doctor of the dead hasn't comeyet. "

Simoneau took a seat beside Marguerite and after a few words ofencouragement remained silent. The funeral was to take place at eleven!Those words rang in my brain like a passing bell. And the doctorcoming--the doctor of the dead, as Mme Gabin had called him. HE couldnot possibly fail to find out that I was only in a state of lethargy;he would do whatever might be necessary to rouse me, so I longed for hisarrival with feverish anxiety. 

The day was drawing to a close. Mme Gabin, anxious to waste no time, hadbrought in her lamp shades and summoned Dede without asking Marguerite'spermission. "To tell the truth, " she observed, "I do not like to leavechildren too long alone. "

"Come in, I say, " she whispered to the little girl; "come in, and don'tbe frightened. Only don't look toward the bed or you'll catch it. "

She thought it decorous to forbid Dede to look at me, but I wasconvinced that the child was furtively glancing at the corner whereI lay, for every now and then I heard her mother rap her knuckles andrepeat angrily: "Get on with your work or you shall leave the room, andthe gentleman will come during the night and pull you by the feet. "

The mother and daughter had sat down at our table. I could plainly hearthe click of their scissors as they clipped the lamp shades, whichno doubt required very delicate manipulation, for they did not workrapidly. I counted the shades one by one as they were laid aside, whilemy anxiety grew more and more intense. 

The clicking of the scissors was the only noise in the room, so Iconcluded that Marguerite had been overcome by fatigue and was dozing. Twice Simoneau rose, and the torturing thought flashed through me thathe might be taking advantage of her slumbers to touch her hair with hislips. I hardly knew the man and yet felt sure that he loved my wife. Atlast little Dede began to giggle, and her laugh exasperated me. 

"Why are you sniggering, you idiot?" asked her mother. "Do you want tobe turned out on the landing? Come, out with it; what makes you laughso?"

The child stammered: she had not laughed; she had only coughed, but Ifelt certain she had seen Simoneau bending over Marguerite and had feltamused. 

The lamp had been lit when a knock was heard at the door. 

"It must be the doctor at last, " said the old woman. 

It was the doctor; he did not apologize for coming so late, for he hadno doubt ascended many flights of stairs during the day. The room beingbut imperfectly lighted by the lamp, he inquired: "Is the body here?"

"Yes, it is, " answered Simoneau. 

Marguerite had risen, trembling violently. Mme Gabin dismissed Dede, saying it was useless that a child should be present, and then she triedto lead my wife to the window, to spare her the sight of what was aboutto take place. 

The doctor quickly approached the bed. I guessed that he was bored, tired and impatient. Had he touched my wrist? Had he placed his hand onmy heart? I could not tell, but I fancied that he had only carelesslybent over me. 

"Shall I bring the lamp so that you may see better?" asked Simoneauobligingly. 

"No it is not necessary, " quietly answered the doctor. 

Not necessary! That man held my life in his hands, and he did not thinkit worth while to proceed to a careful examination! I was not dead! Iwanted to cry out that I was not dead!

"At what o'clock did he die?" asked the doctor. 

"At six this morning, " volunteered Simoneau. 

A feeling of frenzy and rebellion rose within me, bound as I was inseemingly iron chains. Oh, for the power of uttering one word, of movinga single limb!

"This close weather is unhealthy, " resumed the doctor; "nothing is moretrying than these early spring days. "

And then he moved away. It was like my life departing. Screams, sobsand insults were choking me, struggling in my convulsed throat, in whicheven my breath was arrested. The wretch! Turned into a mere machineby professional habits, he only came to a deathbed to accomplish aperfunctory formality; he knew nothing; his science was a lie, sincehe could not at a glance distinguish life from death--and now he wasgoing--going!

"Good night, sir, " said Simoneau. 

There came a moment's silence; the doctor was probably bowing toMarguerite, who had turned while Mme Gabin was fastening the window. Heleft the room, and I heard his footsteps descending the stairs. 

It was all over; I was condemned. My last hope had vanished with thatman. If I did not wake before eleven on the morrow I should beburied alive. The horror of that thought was so great that I lost allconsciousness of my surroundings--'twas something like a fainting fit indeath. The last sound I heard was the clicking of the scissors handledby Mme Gabin and Dede. The funeral vigil had begun; nobody spoke. 

Marguerite had refused to retire to rest in the neighbor's room. Sheremained reclining in her armchair, with her beautiful face pale, hereyes closed and her long lashes wet with tears, while before her in thegloom Simoneau sat silently watching her. 

CHAPTER III

THE PROCESSION

I cannot describe my agony during the morning of the following day. Iremember it as a hideous dream in which my impressions were so ghastlyand so confused that I could not formulate them. The persistent yearningfor a sudden awakening increased my torture, and as the hour for thefuneral drew nearer my anguish became more poignant still. 

It was only at daybreak that I had recovered a fuller consciousness ofwhat was going on around me. The creaking of hinges startled me out ofmy stupor. Mme Gabin had just opened the window. It must have beenabout seven o'clock, for I heard the cries of hawkers in the street, theshrill voice of a girl offering groundsel and the hoarse voice of aman shouting "Carrots!" The clamorous awakening of Paris pacified me atfirst. I could not believe that I should be laid under the sod in themidst of so much life; and, besides, a sudden thought helped to calm me. It had just occurred to me that I had witnessed a case similar to my ownwhen I was employed at the hospital of Guerande. A man had been sleepingtwenty-eight hours, the doctors hesitating in presence of his apparentlifelessness, when suddenly he had sat up in bed and was almost at onceable to rise. I myself had already been asleep for some twenty-fivehours; if I awoke at ten I should still be in time. 

I endeavored to ascertain who was in the room and what was going onthere. Dede must have been playing on the landing, for once when thedoor opened I heard her shrill childish laughter outside. Simoneau musthave retired, for nothing indicated his presence. Mme Gabin's slipshodtread was still audible over the floor. At last she spoke. 

"Come, my dear, " she said. "It is wrong of you not to take it while itis hot. It would cheer you up. "

She was addressing Marguerite, and a slow trickling sound as ofsomething filtering indicated that she had been making some coffee. 

"I don't mind owning, " she continued, "that I needed it. At my agesitting up IS trying. The night seems so dreary when there is amisfortune in the house. DO have a cup of coffee, my dear--just a drop. "

She persuaded Marguerite to taste it. 

"Isn't it nice and hot?" she continued, "and doesn't it set one up? Ah, you'll be wanting all your strength presently for what you've got to gothrough today. Now if you were sensible you'd step into my room and justwait there. "

"No, I want to stay here, " said Marguerite resolutely. 

Her voice, which I had not heard since the previous evening, touched mestrangely. It was changed, broken as by tears. To feel my dear wife nearme was a last consolation. I knew that her eyes were fastened on me andthat she was weeping with all the anguish of her heart. 

The minutes flew by. An inexplicable noise sounded from beyond the door. It seemed as if some people were bringing a bulky piece of furnitureupstairs and knocking against the walls as they did so. Suddenly Iunderstood, as I heard Marguerite begin to sob; it was the coffin. 

"You are too early, " said Mme Gabin crossly. "Put it behind the bed. "

What o'clock was it? Nine, perhaps. So the coffin had come. Amid theopaque night around me I could see it plainly, quite new, with roughlyplaned boards. Heavens! Was this the end then? Was I to be borne off inthat box which I realized was lying at my feet?

However, I had one supreme joy. Marguerite, in spite of her weakness, insisted upon discharging all the last offices. Assisted by the oldwoman, she dressed me with all the tenderness of a wife and a sister. Once more I felt myself in her arms as she clothed me in variousgarments. She paused at times, overcome by grief; she clasped meconvulsively, and her tears rained on my face. Oh, how I longedto return her embrace and cry, "I live!" And yet I was lying therepowerless, motionless, inert!

"You are foolish, " suddenly said Mme Gabin; "it is all wasted. "

"Never mind, " answered Marguerite, sobbing. "I want him to wear his verybest things. "

I understood that she was dressing me in the clothes I had worn on mywedding day. I had kept them carefully for great occasions. When she hadfinished she fell back exhausted in the armchair. 

Simoneau now spoke; he had probably just entered the room. 

"They are below, " he whispered. 

"Well, it ain't any too soon, " answered Mme Gabin, also lowering hervoice. "Tell them to come up and get it over. "

"But I dread the despair of the poor little wife. "

The old woman seemed to reflect and presently resumed: "Listen to me, Monsieur Simoneau. You must take her off to my room. I wouldn't have herstop here. It is for her own good. When she is out of the way we'll getit done in a jiffy. "

These words pierced my heart, and my anguish was intense when I realizedthat a struggle was actually taking place. Simoneau had walked up toMarguerite, imploring her to leave the room. 

"Do, for pity's sake, come with me!" he pleaded. "Spare yourself uselesspain. "

"No, no!" she cried. "I will remain till the last minute. Remember thatI have only him in the world, and when he is gone I shall be all alone!"

From the bedside Mme Gabin was prompting the young man. 

"Don't parley--take hold of her, carry her off in your arms. "

Was Simoneau about to lay his hands on Marguerite and bear her away? Shescreamed. I wildly endeavored to rise, but the springs of my limbs werebroken. I remained rigid, unable to lift my eyelids to see what wasgoing on. The struggle continued, and my wife clung to the furniture, repeating, "Oh, don't, don't! Have mercy! Let me go! I will not--"

He must have lifted her in his stalwart arms, for I heard her moaninglike a child. He bore her away; her sobs were lost in the distance, and I fancied I saw them both--he, tall and strong, pressing her to hisbreast; she, fainting, powerless and conquered, following him whereverhe listed. 

"Drat it all! What a to-do!" muttered Mme Gabin. "Now for the tug ofwar, as the coast is clear at last. "

In my jealous madness I looked upon this incident as a monstrousoutrage. I had not been able to see Marguerite for twenty-four hours, but at least I had still heard her voice. Now even this was denied me;she had been torn away; a man had eloped with her even before I waslaid under the sod. He was alone with her on the other side of the wall, comforting her--embracing her, perhaps!

But the door opened once more, and heavy footsteps shook the floor. 

"Quick, make haste, " repeated Mme Gabin. "Get it done before the ladycomes back. "

She was speaking to some strangers, who merely answered her with uncouthgrunts. 

"You understand, " she went on, "I am not a relation; I'm only aneighbor. I have no interest in the matter. It is out of pure goodnature that I have mixed myself up in their affairs. And I ain'tovercheerful, I can tell you. Yes, yes, I sat up the whole blessednight--it was pretty cold, too, about four o'clock. That's a fact. Well, I have always been a fool--I'm too soft-hearted. "

The coffin had been dragged into the center of the room. As I hadnot awakened I was condemned. All clearness departed from my ideas;everything seemed to revolve in a black haze, and I experienced suchutter lassitude that it seemed almost a relief to leave off hoping. 

"They haven't spared the material, " said one of the undertaker's men ina gruff voice. "The box is too long. "

"He'll have all the more room, " said the other, laughing. 

I was not heavy, and they chuckled over it since they had three flightsof stairs to descend. As they were seizing me by the shoulders and feetI heard Mme Gabin fly into a violent passion. 

"You cursed little brat, " she screamed, "what do you mean by poking yournose where you're not wanted? Look here, I'll teach you to spy and pry. "

Dede had slipped her tousled head through the doorway to see how thegentleman was being put into the box. Two ringing slaps resounded, however, by an explosion of sobs. And as soon as the mother returned shebegan to gossip about her daughter for the benefit of the two men whowere settling me in the coffin. 

"She is only ten, you know. She is not a bad girl, but she isfrightfully inquisitive. I do not beat her often; only I WILL beobeyed. "

"Oh, " said one of the men, "all kids are alike. Whenever there is acorpse lying about they always want to see it. "

I was commodiously stretched out, and I might have thought myself stillin bed, had it not been that my left arm felt a trifle cramped frombeing squeezed against a board. The men had been right. I was prettycomfortable inside on account of my diminutive stature. 

"Stop!" suddenly exclaimed Mme Gabin. "I promised his wife to put apillow under his head. "

The men, who were in a hurry, stuffed in the pillow roughly. One ofthem, who had mislaid his hammer, began to swear. He had left the toolbelow and went to fetch it, dropping the lid, and when two sharp blowsof the hammer drove in the first nail, a shock ran through my being--Ihad ceased to live. The nails then entered in rapid succession with arhythmical cadence. It was as if some packers had been closing a caseof dried fruit with easy dexterity. After that such sounds as reachedme were deadened and strangely prolonged, as if the deal coffin had beenchanged into a huge musical box. The last words spoken in the room ofthe Rue Dauphine--at least the last ones that I heard distinctly--wereuttered by Mme Gabin. 

"Mind the staircase, " she said; "the banister of the second flight isn'tsafe, so be careful. "

While I was being carried down I experienced a sensation similar to thatof pitching as when one is on board a ship in a rough sea. However, fromthat moment my impressions became more and more vague. I remember thatthe only distinct thought that still possessed me was an imbecile, impulsive curiosity as to the road by which I should be taken to thecemetery. I was not acquainted with a single street of Paris, and I wasignorant of the position of the large burial grounds (though of course Ihad occasionally heard their names), and yet every effort of my mind wasdirected toward ascertaining whether we were turning to the right or tothe left. Meanwhile the jolting of the hearse over the paving stones, the rumbling of passing vehicles, the steps of the foot passengers, allcreated a confused clamor, intensified by the acoustical properties ofthe coffin. 

At first I followed our course pretty closely; then came a halt. I wasagain lifted and carried about, and I concluded that we were in church, but when the funeral procession once more moved onward I lost allconsciousness of the road we took. A ringing of bells informed me thatwe were passing another church, and then the softer and easier progressof the wheels indicated that we were skirting a garden or park. I waslike a victim being taken to the gallows, awaiting in stupor a deathblowthat never came. 

At last they stopped and pulled me out of the hearse. The businessproceeded rapidly. The noises had ceased; I knew that I was in adeserted space amid avenues of trees and with the broad sky over myhead. No doubt a few persons followed the bier, some of the inhabitantsof the lodginghouse, perhaps--Simoneau and others, for instance--forfaint whisperings reached my ear. Then I heard a psalm chanted and someLatin words mumbled by a priest, and afterward I suddenly felt myselfsinking, while the ropes rubbing against the edges of the coffinelicited lugubrious sounds, as if a bow were being drawn across thestrings of a cracked violoncello. It was the end. On the left side ofmy head I felt a violent shock like that produced by the bursting of abomb, with another under my feet and a third more violent still on mychest. So forcible, indeed, was this last one that I thought the lid wascleft atwain. I fainted from it. 

CHAPTER IV

THE NAIL

It is impossible for me to say how long my swoon lasted. Eternity is notof longer duration than one second spent in nihility. I was no more. Itwas slowly and confusedly that I regained some degree of consciousness. I was still asleep, but I began to dream; a nightmare started into shapeamid the blackness of my horizon, a nightmare compounded of a strangefancy which in other days had haunted my morbid imagination wheneverwith my propensity for dwelling upon hideous thoughts I had conjured upcatastrophes. 

Thus I dreamed that my wife was expecting me somewhere--at Guerande, Ibelieve--and that I was going to join her by rail. As we passedthrough a tunnel a deafening roll thundered over our head, and a suddensubsidence blocked up both issues of the tunnel, leaving our trainintact in the center. We were walled up by blocks of rock in the heartof a mountain. Then a long and fearful agony commenced. No assistancecould possibly reach us; even with powerful engines and incessant laborit would take a month to clear the tunnel. We were prisoners there withno outlet, and so our death was only a question of time. 

My fancy had often dwelt on that hideous drama and had constantly variedthe details and touches. My actors were men, women and children; theirnumber increased to hundreds, and they were ever furnishing me with newincidents. There were some provisions in the train, but these were soonexhausted, and the hungry passengers, if they did not actually devourhuman flesh, at least fought furiously over the last piece of bread. Sometimes an aged man was driven back with blows and slowly perished; amother struggled like a she-wolf to keep three or four mouthfuls for herchild. In my own compartment a bride and bridegroom were dying, claspedin each other's arms in mute despair. 

The line was free along the whole length of the train, and people cameand went, prowling round the carriages like beasts of prey in searchof carrion. All classes were mingled together. A millionaire, a highfunctionary, it was said, wept on a workman's shoulder. The lamps hadbeen extinguished from the first, and the engine fire was nearly out. Topass from one carriage to another it was necessary to grope about, andthus, too, one slowly reached the engine, recognizable by its enormousbarrel, its cold, motionless flanks, its useless strength, its grimsilence, in the overwhelming night. Nothing could be more appalling thanthis train entombed alive with its passengers perishing one by one. 

I gloated over the ghastliness of each detail; howls resounded throughthe vault; somebody whom one could not see, whose vicinity was noteven suspected, would suddenly drop upon another's shoulder. But whataffected me most of all was the cold and the want of air. I have neverfelt so chilled; a mantle of snow seemed to enwrap me; heavy moisturerained upon my skull; I was gasping; the rocky vault seemed to crush mychest; the whole mountain was seemingly weighing upon me. 

Suddenly a cry of deliverance sounded. For some time past we fanciedthat we could hear a dull sound, and we tried to hope that men wereat work and that help was coming, but it came not thus. One of thepassengers, however, had discovered an air shaft in the tunnel, and, crowding round, we all saw this shaft, above which we could discern ablue patch about the size of a wafer. That blue patch filled us withrapture, for it was the sky. We stretched ourselves and stood on tiptoesto breathe more freely. Then we distinguished some black specks movingabout, specks that must surely be workmen about to deliver us. A furiousclamor arose. The cry "Saved! Saved!" burst from every mouth, whiletrembling arms were uplifted toward the tiny azure patch above. 

That roar of voices aroused me. Where was I? In the tunnel, of course. Iwas lying at full length; hard walls were pressing against my ribs. ThenI attempted to rise and struck my head roughly. Was it the rockclosing in on all sides? The blue speck had vanished--aye, the sky haddisappeared and I was still suffocating, shivering, with chatteringteeth. 

All at once I remembered. Intense horror raised my hair on end. I feltthe hideous truth freeze me from head to foot like ice. I had shakenoff the long coma which for many hours had stricken me with corpselikerigidity. Yes, I could move; my hands could feel the boards of mycoffin; my lips parted; words came to me, and instinctively I called outMarguerite's name. It was a scream I raised. In that deal box my voicetook so hoarse and weird a sound that it terrified me. Oh, my God, wasthis thing true? I was able to walk, speak, cry out that I was living, and yet my voice could not be heard; I was entombed under the earth. 

I made a desperate effort to remain calm and reflect. Was there no meansof getting out? Then my dream began afresh in my troubled brain. Thefanciful air shaft with the blue bit of sky overhead was mingled withthe real grave in which I was lying. I stared at the darkness withwidely opened eyes; perhaps I might discover a hole, a slit, a glimmerof light, but only sparks of fire flitted through that night, with raysthat broadened and then faded away. I was in a somber abyss again. Withreturning lucidity I struggled against these fatal visions. Indeed, Ishould need all my reason if I meant to try to save myself. 

The most immediate peril lay in an increasing sense of suffocation. IfI had been able to live so long without air it was owing to suspendedanimation, which had changed all the normal conditions of my existence, but now that my heart beat and my lungs breathed I should die, asphyxiated, if I did not promptly liberate myself. I also suffered fromcold and dreaded lest I should succumb to the mortal numbness ofthose who fall asleep in the snow, never to wake again. Still, whileunceasingly realizing the necessity of remaining calm, I felt maddeningblasts sweep through my brain, and to quiet my senses I exhorted myselfto patience, trying to remember the circumstances of my burial. Probablythe ground had been bought for five years, and this would be against mychances of self-deliverance, for I remembered having noticed at Nantesthat in the trenches of the common graves one end of the last loweredcoffins protruded into the next open cavity, in which case I should onlyhave had to break through one plank. But if I were in a separate hole, filled up above me with earth, the obstacles would prove too great. HadI not been told that the dead were buried six feet deep in Paris? Howwas I to get through the enormous mass of soil above me? Even if Isucceeded in slitting the lid of my bier open the mold would drift inlike fine sand and fill my mouth and eyes. That would be death again, aghastly death, like drowning in mud. 

However, I began to feel the planks carefully. The coffin was roomy, and I found that I was able to move my arms with tolerable ease. On bothsides the roughly planed boards were stout and resistive. I slipped myarm onto my chest to raise it over my head. There I discovered in thetop plank a knot in the wood which yielded slightly at my pressure. Working laboriously, I finally succeeded in driving out this knot, andon passing my finger through the hole I found that the earth was wet andclayey. But that availed me little. I even regretted having removed theknot, vaguely dreading the irruption of the mold. A second experimentoccupied me for a while. I tapped all over the coffin to ascertain ifperhaps there were any vacuum outside. But the sound was everywherethe same. At last, as I was slightly kicking the foot of the coffin, Ifancied that it gave out a clearer echoing noise, but that might merelybe produced by the sonority of the wood. 

At any rate, I began to press against the boards with my arms and myclosed fists. In the same way, too, I used my knees, my back and my feetwithout eliciting even a creak from the wood. I strained with all mystrength, indeed, with so desperate an effort of my whole frame, that mybruised bones seemed breaking. But nothing moved, and I became insane. 

Until that moment I had held delirium at bay. I had mastered theintoxicating rage which was mounting to my head like the fumes ofalcohol; I had silenced my screams, for I feared that if I again criedout aloud I should be undone. But now I yelled; I shouted; unearthlyhowls which I could not repress came from my relaxed throat. I calledfor help in a voice that I did not recognize, growing wilder with eachfresh appeal and crying out that I would not die. I also tore at thewood with my nails; I writhed with the contortions of a caged wolf. I donot know how long this fit of madness lasted, but I can still feel therelentless hardness of the box that imprisoned me; I can still hear thestorm of shrieks and sobs with which I filled it; a remaining glimmer ofreason made me try to stop, but I could not do so. 

Great exhaustion followed. I lay waiting for death in a state ofsomnolent pain. The coffin was like stone, which no effort could break, and the conviction that I was powerless left me unnerved, withoutcourage to make any fresh attempts. Another suffering--hunger--waspresently added to cold and want of air. The torture soon becameintolerable. With my finger I tried to pull small pinches of earththrough the hole of the dislodged knot, and I swallowed them eagerly, only increasing my torment. Tempted by my flesh, I bit my arms andsucked my skin with a fiendish desire to drive my teeth in, but I wasafraid of drawing blood. 

Then I ardently longed for death. All my life long I had trembled at thethought of dissolution, but I had come to yearn for it, to crave for aneverlasting night that could never be dark enough. How childish it hadbeen of me to dread the long, dreamless sleep, the eternity of silenceand gloom! Death was kind, for in suppressing life it put an end tosuffering. Oh, to sleep like the stones, to be no more!

With groping hands I still continued feeling the wood, and suddenlyI pricked my left thumb. That slight pain roused me from my growingnumbness. I felt again and found a nail--a nail which the undertaker'smen had driven in crookedly and which had not caught in the lower wood. It was long and very sharp; the head was secured to the lid, butit moved. Henceforth I had but one idea--to possess myself of thatnail--and I slipped my right hand across my body and began to shakeit. I made but little progress, however; it was a difficult job, for myhands soon tired, and I had to use them alternately. The left one, too, was of little use on account of the nail's awkward position. 

While I was obstinately persevering a plan dawned on my mind. That nailmeant salvation, and I must have it. But should I get it in time? Hungerwas torturing me; my brain was swimming; my limbs were losing theirstrength; my mind was becoming confused. I had sucked the drops thattrickled from my punctured finger, and suddenly I bit my arm and drankmy own blood! Thereupon, spurred on by pain, revived by the tepid, acridliquor that moistened my lips, I tore desperately at the nail and atlast I wrenched it off!

I then believed in success. My plan was a simple one; I pushed thepoint of the nail into the lid, dragging it along as far as I could ina straight line and working it so as to make a slit in the wood. Myfingers stiffened, but I doggedly persevered, and when I fancied that Ihad sufficiently cut into the board I turned on my stomach and, liftingmyself on my knees and elbows thrust the whole strength of my backagainst the lid. But although it creaked it did not yield; the notchedline was not deep enough. I had to resume my old position--which I onlymanaged to do with infinite trouble--and work afresh. At last afteranother supreme effort the lid was cleft from end to end. 

I was not saved as yet, but my heart beat with renewed hope. I hadceased pushing and remained motionless, lest a sudden fall of earthshould bury me. I intended to use the lid as a screen and, thusprotected, to open a sort of shaft in the clayey soil. UnfortunatelyI was assailed by unexpected difficulties. Some heavy clods of earthweighed upon the boards and made them unmanageable; I foresaw that Ishould never reach the surface in that way, for the mass of soil wasalready bending my spine and crushing my face. 

Once more I stopped, affrighted; then suddenly, while I was stretchingmy legs, trying to find something firm against which I might rest myfeet, I felt the end board of the coffin yielding. I at once gave adesperate kick with my heels in the faint hope that there might be afreshly dug grave in that direction. 

It was so. My feet abruptly forced their way into space. An open gravewas there; I had only a slight partition of earth to displace, and soonI rolled into the cavity. I was saved!

I remained for a time lying on my back in the open grave, with myeyes raised to heaven. It was dark; the stars were shining in a sky ofvelvety blueness. Now and then the rising breeze wafted a springlikefreshness, a perfume of foliage, upon me. I was saved! I could breathe;I felt warm, and I wept and I stammered, with my arms prayerfullyextended toward the starry sky. O God, how sweet seemed life!

CHAPTER V

MY RESURRECTION

My first impulse was to find the custodian of the cemetery and askhim to have me conducted home, but various thoughts that came to merestrained me from following that course. My return would create generalalarm; why should I hurry now that I was master of the situation? I feltmy limbs; I had only an insignificant wound on my left arm, where I hadbitten myself, and a slight feverishness lent me unhoped-for strength. Ishould no doubt be able to walk unaided. 

Still I lingered; all sorts of dim visions confused my mind. I had feltbeside me in the open grave some sextons' tools which had been leftthere, and I conceived a sudden desire to repair the damage I had done, to close up the hole through which I had crept, so as to conceal alltraces of my resurrection. I do not believe that I had any positivemotive in doing so. I only deemed it useless to proclaim my adventurealoud, feeling ashamed to find myself alive when the whole world thoughtme dead. In half an hour every trace of my escape was obliterated, andthen I climbed out of the hole. 

The night was splendid, and deep silence reigned in the cemetery;the black trees threw motionless shadows over the white tombs. When Iendeavored to ascertain my bearings I noticed that one half of thesky was ruddy, as if lit by a huge conflagration; Paris lay in thatdirection, and I moved toward it, following a long avenue amid thedarkness of the branches. 

However, after I had gone some fifty yards I was compelled to stop, feeling faint and weary. I then sat down on a stone bench and for thefirst time looked at myself. I was fully attired with the exceptionthat I had no hat. I blessed my beloved Marguerite for the pious thoughtwhich had prompted her to dress me in my best clothes--those which I hadworn at our wedding. That remembrance of my wife brought me to my feetagain. I longed to see her without delay. 

At the farther end of the avenue I had taken a wall arrested myprogress. However, I climbed to the top of a monument, reached thesummit of the wall and then dropped over the other side. Althoughroughly shaken by the fall, I managed to walk for a few minutes along abroad deserted street skirting the cemetery. I had no notion as towhere I might be, but with the reiteration of monomania I kept sayingto myself that I was going toward Paris and that I should find the RueDauphine somehow or other. Several people passed me but, seized withsudden distrust, I would not stop them and ask my way. I have sincerealized that I was then in a burning fever and already nearlydelirious. Finally, just as I reached a large thoroughfare, I becamegiddy and fell heavily upon the pavement. 

Here there is a blank in my life. For three whole weeks I remainedunconscious. When I awoke at last I found myself in a strange room. A man who was nursing me told me quietly that he had picked me up onemorning on the Boulevard Montparnasse and had brought me to his house. He was an old doctor who had given up practicing. 

When I attempted to thank him he sharply answered that my case hadseemed a curious one and that he had wished to study it. Moreover, during the first days of my convalescence he would not allow me to aska single question, and later on he never put one to me. For eight dayslonger I remained in bed, feeling very weak and not even trying toremember, for memory was a weariness and a pain. I felt half ashamed andhalf afraid. As soon as I could leave the house I would go and find outwhatever I wanted to know. Possibly in the delirium of fever a name hadescaped me; however, the doctor never alluded to anything I may havesaid. His charity was not only generous; it was discreet. 

The summer had come at last, and one warm June morning I was permittedto take a short walk. The sun was shining with that joyous brightnesswhich imparts renewed youth to the streets of old Paris. I went alongslowly, questioning the passers-by at every crossing I came to andasking the way to Rue Dauphine. When I reached the street I had somedifficulty in recognizing the lodginghouse where we had alighted onour arrival in the capital. A childish terror made me hesitate. If Iappeared suddenly before Marguerite the shock might kill her. It mightbe wiser to begin by revealing myself to our neighbor Mme Gabin; stillI shrank from taking a third party into confidence. I seemed unable toarrive at a resolution, and yet in my innermost heart I felt a greatvoid, like that left by some sacrifice long since consummated. 

The building looked quite yellow in the sunshine. I had just recognizedit by a shabby eating house on the ground floor, where we had orderedour meals, having them sent up to us. Then I raised my eyes to the lastwindow of the third floor on the left-hand side, and as I looked at ita young woman with tumbled hair, wearing a loose dressing gown, appearedand leaned her elbows on the sill. A young man followed and printed akiss upon her neck. It was not Marguerite. Still I felt no surprise. Itseemed to me that I had dreamed all this with other things, too, which Iwas to learn presently. 

For a moment I remained in the street, uncertain whether I had bettergo upstairs and question the lovers, who were still laughing in thesunshine. However, I decided to enter the little restaurant below. WhenI started on my walk the old doctor had placed a five-franc piece in myhand. No doubt I was changed beyond recognition, for my beard had grownduring the brain fever, and my face was wrinkled and haggard. As I tooka seat at a small table I saw Mme Gabin come in carrying a cup; shewished to buy a penny-worth of coffee. Standing in front of the counter, she began to gossip with the landlady of the establishment. 

"Well, " asked the latter, "so the poor little woman of the third floorhas made up her mind at last, eh?"

"How could she help herself?" answered Mme Gabin. "It was the very bestthing for her to do. Monsieur Simoneau showed her so much kindness. Yousee, he had finished his business in Paris to his satisfaction, for hehas inherited a pot of money. Well, he offered to take her away with himto his own part of the country and place her with an aunt of his, whowants a housekeeper and companion. "

The landlady laughed archly. I buried my face in a newspaper which Ipicked off the table. My lips were white and my hands shook. 

"It will end in a marriage, of course, " resumed Mme Gabin. "The littlewidow mourned for her husband very properly, and the young man wasextremely well behaved. Well, they left last night--and, after all, theywere free to please themselves. "

Just then the side door of the restaurant, communicating with thepassage of the house, opened, and Dede appeared. 

"Mother, ain't you coming?" she cried. "I'm waiting, you know; do bequick. "

"Presently, " said the mother testily. "Don't bother. "

The girl stood listening to the two women with the precocious shrewdnessof a child born and reared amid the streets of Paris. 

"When all is said and done, " explained Mme Gabin, "the dear departed didnot come up to Monsieur Simoneau. I didn't fancy him overmuch; he wasa puny sort of a man, a poor, fretful fellow, and he hadn't a penny tobless himself with. No, candidly, he wasn't the kind of husband for ayoung and healthy wife, whereas Monsieur Simoneau is rich, you know, andas strong as a Turk. "

"Oh yes!" interrupted Dede. "I saw him once when he was washing--hisdoor was open. His arms are so hairy!"

"Get along with you, " screamed the old woman, shoving the girl outof the restaurant. "You are always poking your nose where it has nobusiness to be. "

Then she concluded with these words: "Look here, to my mind the otherone did quite right to take himself off. It was fine luck for the littlewoman!"

When I found myself in the street again I walked along slowly withtrembling limbs. And yet I was not suffering much; I think I smiled onceat my shadow in the sun. It was quite true. I WAS very puny. It had beena queer notion of mine to marry Marguerite. I recalled her weariness atGuerande, her impatience, her dull, monotonous life. The dear creaturehad been very good to me, but I had never been a real lover; she hadmourned for me as a sister for her brother, not otherwise. Why should Iagain disturb her life? A dead man is not jealous. 

When I lifted my eyelids I saw the garden of the Luxembourg before me. Ientered it and took a seat in the sun, dreaming with a sense of infiniterestfulness. The thought of Marguerite stirred me softly. I picturedher in the provinces, beloved, petted and very happy. She had grownhandsomer, and she was the mother of three boys and two girls. It wasall right. I had behaved like an honest man in dying, and I would notcommit the cruel folly of coming to life again. 

Since then I have traveled a good deal. I have been a little everywhere. I am an ordinary man who has toiled and eaten like anybody else. Deathno longer frightens me, but it does not seem to care for me now thatI have no motive in living, and I sometimes fear that I have beenforgotten upon earth.