French And Oriental Love In A Harem - French and Oriental Love in a Harem Part 33
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French and Oriental Love in a Harem Part 33

"All right! We will see about that," he continued. "That is a matter to be arranged between us, and for that purpose I shall go to your house to-morrow. Only, I give you warning, no noise, please, no silly attempts to carry off your daughter, otherwise we shall wait until she is of age in two years' time, and then you will have nothing."

Don't be surprised, Louis, if for the rest of this page I scrawl like a monkey. At the recollection of this scene, my eyes are quite obscured by a veil of mist. By Jove, so much the worse! for now it's all breaking into real tears.

Dear me, what a brick of an uncle he is to me!

Notwithstanding Barbassou-Pasha's Turkish tactics, and in spite of the happiness which for the moment quite overwhelmed us, my poor Kondje-Gul began to tremble again with fear after the departure of her mother, whom we knew to be capable of any mad act. We decided that, in order to avoid a very real danger, we would take her that very day to the convent of the Ladies of X.; this we did. Before she becomes my wife she is going to become a Christian, in pursuance of the wish which, as you know, she has expressed a long time since, of embracing my faith. This visit, which will account to the world for her disappearance, will be explained quite naturally by this _finale_ of our marriage; and if people ever discover anything about this queer story of our amours, well--I shall have married my own slave, that's all.

Eh? What? You incorrigible carper! Is it not, after all, a charming romance?

A fortnight has passed since the intervention of the commissary. Kiusko has gone: he disappeared one morning. My aunt Eudoxia, who has taken us under her special care, goes to see Kondje-Gul every day at the convent.

She is charming in her kindness to us, but still we have our anxieties.

The negotiation of the maternal consent is an arduous task, for the Circassian makes absurd pretensions; my uncle, however, undertakes to bring her down.

What will you say next, I wonder? That I am reduced to buying my own wife? I flatter myself that I shall find happiness in that bargain! How many others are there, who have done the same, that could say as much as that?

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[Illustration]

CHAPTER XIX.

Here's a fine business! It is my uncle who has got into trouble this time! My aunt Eudoxia has found out everything, and I have just spent two days in helping my aunt Van Cloth to pack up and get back to Holland with my long string of cousins, the fat Dirkie, the cooking moulds, and the barrel-organ following by goods' train.

It was a veritable thunderclap!

I have told you all about this Dutch household and its patriarchal felicity, its sweetmeat and sausage pastries, and its inimitable tarts--less appetizing, however, than my aunt's fine eyes. I have told you about their quiet family evenings with my uncle's pipe and schiedam, in which domino-parties of three were varied by the delightful treat of a symphony from one of the great masters, executed in a masterly style by a pretty little plump hand covered with pink dimples.

Once or twice a week, as became a favourite and affectionate nephew, I came into the midst of this idyll of the land of tulips; and always quitted it full of sweetmeats and good advice.

However, the day before yesterday, Ernest, the second of my cousins, who is five years old, suddenly caught a violent fever; he grew scarlet in the face, and his stomach swelled up like a balloon.

My poor aunt, having exhausted all her arsenal of aperients and astringents against what she reckoned to be an indigestion due to preserved plums, quite lost her head. In the afternoon the child grew worse. Where in Paris could she find a Dutch doctor? She could only place confidence in a Dutchman. At the end of her wits with fear, she thought she would go after my uncle or me; so, without thinking any more about it, as she knew our address, she takes a cab and gets driven to the Rue de Varennes, believing in her simplicity that this was where our shops and offices were.

She arrives and asks for my uncle. Being seven o'clock, the hall-porter tells her that the captain will soon be in, shows her to the staircase, and rings the bell; one of the men-servants asks her for her name, and then opens the folding doors, announcing--

"Madame Barbassou!"

It is my aunt Eudoxia who receives her.

My aunt Van Cloth, who is distracted with anxiety, thinks that she sees before her some lady of my family, and in order to excuse herself for disturbing her, begins by saying that she has come to see Captain Barbassou, _her husband_.

Imagine the stupefaction of my aunt Eudoxia! But being too astute to betray herself, she lets the other speak, questions her and learns the whole story. Then, like the good soul that she is, and feeling sorry for poor Ernest and his swollen stomach, she rings and orders the carriage to be ready, so that she may go as soon as possible to her own doctor; upon which my aunt Van Cloth, who is of an effusive nature, embraces her most affectionately, calling her her dearest friend.

Just then my uncle arrives.

I was not present; but my aunt Eudoxia, who continues to laugh over it, has related to me all the details of the affair. At the sight of this remarkable fusion of "the two branches of his hymens," as she termed it, the Pasha was positively dumbfounded. All the more so as my aunt Van Cloth, who understood no more about this extraordinary position of affairs than she did of Hebrew, threw herself into his arms, and exclaimed:

"Ah! Anatole! here you are, dear!--Our Ernest is in danger!"

The bravest man will quail occasionally; and at this unfortunate and unavoidable attack, which tore asunder the whole veil of mystery, the splendid composure with which Nature has armed my uncle Barbassou really deserted him for a moment. But, like a man who is superior to misfortunes of this sort, when he found himself caught he did not on this occasion, more than on any other, waste any time over spilt cream.

"Quick! we must go and fetch the child!" he said.

And taking advantage of the fact that my aunt Van Cloth was hanging to him, he carried her off without any more ado, and went out by the door, without leaving her time to kiss the Countess of Monteclaro, as she certainly would have done out of politeness. From the ante-room he dragged her down to the carriage, where he packed her in.

I was coming down from my own chambers just as he returned from this summary execution. Although about the last thing I expected to come in for was the climax of a tragic occurrence, I could see easily enough that my uncle had experienced some little shock; but the announcement of dinner and the ordinary tone of my aunt's reception creating a diversion, I did not feel certain until we were seated at table that there was some storm in the air which was only restrained from bursting by the presence of the servants. The Pasha, sitting in silence with his head bent down into his plate, seemed to be absorbed by some abstruse considerations, which caused him that evening to forget to grumble at the cook. My aunt, on the contrary, sparkling with humour, and in her most charming and gracious mood, suggested by her smiles a certain lightness of heart: he eyed her suspiciously from time to time, like a man with an uncomfortable conscience.

When the meal was over we returned to the drawing-room, and coffee being served, remained there alone. The Countess of Monteclaro, still as gracious as ever, made some sly thrusts at him, the significance of which escaped me somewhat. The captain evidently was keeping very quiet.

Finally, after half an hour, as I was about to leave, and he showed symptoms of an intention to slip off, she said to him, in her most insinuating manner--

"I will detain you for a minute, my dear; I must have a little conversation with you about a matter on which I want to take your advice."

I kissed the hand which she held out to me, and which indicated that my presence was not wanted.

"Well, good night, old good-for-nothing!" she added, as she accompanied me as far as the door of the adjoining room.

What passed after I left, none will ever know. My aunt, with her exquisite tact, has only related to me the original and amusing side of the matter, laughing at her unfortunate discovery in the lofty manner of a noble lady who is smoothing over a family trouble. Apart from her very genuine affection for my uncle, she entertains also a certain esteem for him, which she could never depart from before his nephew.

As for myself, I remained still in ignorance of everything until nine o'clock, when the Pasha joined me again at the club, where he had particularly asked me to wait for him.

At the first glance I guessed that there had been a row. Without saying a word, he led me into a little detached room: there he fell into an arm-chair, and shook his head in silence, as he looked at me.

"Good gracious! what's the matter, uncle?" I asked.

"Pfuiii!" he replied, staring with his full eyes, and prolonging this kind of whistling exclamation, like a man who is breathing more freely after a narrow escape.

His gestures were so eloquent, his sigh so expressive and so reinvigorating, that I waited until he had given complete vent to it.

When I saw him quite exhausted by it, I continued, feeling really anxious--

"Come! what is it?"

"Oh, I've just had such a nasty turn!" he answered at last, "Pfuiii!"

I respected this new effort at relief, which, moreover set him right this time.

"You've had some words with my aunt, I suppose?" I added, at a venture, recollecting the cloud which seemed to hang over us at dinner.

"A regular earthquake!" he drawled out, in that appalling Marseilles accent which he falls into whenever he is overcome by any strong emotion. "Your aunt Eudoxia has discovered the whole bag of tricks! The story of the Passy house, your aunt Gretchen, the children, Dirkie, and the whole blessed shop!"

"But, perhaps she has only suspicions--the consequence of some gossip she has heard?"

"Suspicions?" he exclaimed; "why, they have met each other!"

"Nonsense, that's impossible!--Are you really sure of this?"