Mere Thomas roared with laughter, and, turning to her neighbor with the pigeon's wings, who was dipping a macaroon in champagne, his face still wearing a scowl, she said:
"Do you understand that, old fox? That fellow says he's got impure senses; it ain't decent to make a confession like that at dessert."
"Ah! madame!" cried the poet, flushing with wrath, "no one ever dared----"
"What's up, Biribi? Bah! you're losing your temper, my lad, you're red as a turkey-c.o.c.k; I see that; but I'm a good-natured fool, and I ain't got no more gall 'n a flea. Let's drink together; that's better'n talking about your fat women--gra.s.ses, Graces--and your thin women, what I don't know nothing about. Some wine, marquis--that nice little wine as foams. Oh! I know what this is; it's champagne, that's what it is; it ain't no fraud, like your madeira! Your health, my little duckies; yours, Thomas. Whatever's the matter with you, my son? You don't say nothing, and you look as queer as queer; be you going to go off the hooks, like your wife? We must have a song, children; that's always the thing at dessert. Come! who's going to be the one to begin? Thomas, you used to know lots o' songs; I'm going to sing you the one Chah's wife sung to my wedding:
"'J'entre en train quand il entre en train, J'entre en train quand il entre--'"
You must sing the chorus, children."
"One moment, one moment, madame," said the marquis; "pray wait for the coffee and liqueurs."
"Oh, yes! that's so, my friend; they'll clear my voice."
"This is getting worse and worse!" said the marquis to his host in an undertone.
"Oh! monsieur le marquis, I am in utter despair; I am overwhelmed with confusion; I am afraid to turn my head!"
"Why, my dear fellow, I am not in the least offended; a great many people have mothers who are--who are not precisely n.o.ble. That does not prevent your being a man whom I esteem beyond measure, nor does it make your dinner any the less delicious. But there are people in society who are not so sensible as I am, and in whose estimation this may do you an injury. To say nothing of the fact that our dear mamma is getting tipsy, and I don't know what she may not sing us before she is through."
"And to think that I expect more than eighty people to-night for the ball--the most fashionable and most distinguished people in Paris! Save me, monsieur le marquis; I lay my purse, my cash-box, my credit, at your feet!"
"My dear La Thoma.s.siniere, my friendship for you is an sufficient motive to--However, I believe that I have a note for six thousand francs to meet to-morrow."
"You will allow me to attend to that, monsieur le marquis."
"We must devise some way to make everybody leave the house."
"Yes, and as soon as possible."
"Wait--I have an idea--Yes, on my word, it's an excellent idea."
"Ah! monsieur le marquis! my grat.i.tude----"
"It may cost you rather dear, but I see no other resource."
"I am ready to make every possible sacrifice."
"Very good; let me set to work. Go back to the table as if nothing were in the wind. Tell your servants to carry out my orders, and await their effect."
"Lafleur, Jasmin, Comtois, obey monsieur le marquis rather than myself."
The marquis left the dining-room, followed by the servants, and La Thoma.s.siniere returned to the table. Coffee and liqueurs were served.
The marquis soon reappeared and resumed his seat beside Madame Thomas, rea.s.suring his host with a glance.
Mere Thomas hummed as she drank her coffee.
"My children," she said, "we must have a dance to-night; I feel twenty year younger. Thomas, you'll take a turn, I hope? Give me a gla.s.s, marquis; but none of that sugary stuff that sticks in your gullet. Give me something stiff and strong, my friend; that's the only kind that makes you feel good."
Madame Thomas had taken two pet.i.ts verres of brandy, one of rum and one of kirsch; she was declaring that they were very refreshing, and seemed disposed to go on drinking, when a cloud of smoke arose in the courtyard and found its way into the rooms. The guests looked at each other uneasily.
"Seems to me there's a bit of a fog," said Mere Thomas; "it smells like something burning; be any of you sitting on a foot-warmer?"
The servants rushed into the room, shouting in dismay:
"The house is on fire!"
"Fire!" cried all the guests, springing from their chairs. Mere Thomas alone remained seated.
"Well! all you got to do is fling water on it!" she said.
"My house on fire!" said Monsieur de la Thoma.s.siniere, glancing at the marquis. "How can it have happened? Ah! there was a pile of straw--somebody must have dropped a match on it. Look, monsieur, see what a smoke there is in the courtyard!"
As it was about nine o'clock in the evening, the flame made by a number of bunches of straw, which the marquis had fired, made the courtyard as light as day. The cry of _fire_! soon arose on all sides; it reached the salon, and the ladies who had taken refuge there from the society of Madame Thomas, rushed out shrieking, and calling their fathers or their husbands.
The gentlemen tried to allay their fears, saying: "It's nothing, it won't amount to anything; but we must go as soon as possible. Get your bonnets and shawls; make haste, for ladies should never stay where everything is in confusion. We will go with you."
Meanwhile the fire which the marquis had kindled, in order to put the guests to flight, and which the servants did not think of putting out, because they knew that it was a ruse on their master's part,--the fire actually attacked the carriage-house and spread from that to the stable.
While the ladies went to get their shawls and the men their hats, and while the servants ran through the rooms shouting _fire_! the danger had become real, and no one discovered it until a large part of the courtyard was already wrapped in flames.
Thereupon tumult and confusion held full sway; the ladies fled into the street; one lost her turban, another her cap, and several fainted.
Auguste took Athalie in his arms and carried her to a stone bench in the next street. Amid the general upheaval, Mere Thomas decided at last to leave the table; she raised her skirts above her knees and began to run, crying out:
"Just look at all them friends of Thomas's! the cowardly skunks are running away instead of forming a line! and they'd leave me here to roast just like a chestnut!"
The results of the marquis's little ruse were one wing of the house burned, four horses burned, three firemen injured, ten shawls lost, fifteen hats stolen, six locks of hair scorched, three bracelets lost, and two combs broken; but Monsieur de la Thoma.s.siniere made himself whole with twenty thousand francs, and at all events his worthy mother did not exhibit herself to the numerous guests who were invited for the evening.
XV
THAT WHICH WAS FORESEEN
On the morrow of the scene at his house, Monsieur de la Thoma.s.siniere and Athalie started for England, where they determined to remain until Paris had forgotten the scandal caused by the stout countrywoman. As for the latter, they had sent her back post haste to her village, expressly forbidding her ever to leave it again, on pain of withdrawal of the allowance of two hundred francs which her generous son deigned to pay her.
The absurd false shame of La Thoma.s.siniere, who blushed for his mother after he became wealthy, and the petty baseness of Athalie, who had pretended to faint in order to avoid embracing Mere Thomas, made Auguste quite indifferent to their departure; but their house was the only place where he saw Monsieur de Cligneval, and Bertrand said more than once:
"Seems to me, lieutenant, that we don't hear much about that marquis who owes you a hundred louis."
"Perhaps I shall hear from him to-day."
"And the little milkmaid, when are we going to see her again, and thank her for what she brought you? The chickens were fine! I had to eat them while you were dining out."
"I don't think that Denise gives very much thought to us. Hasn't she a lover? Isn't she to be married?"
"Is that a reason for not thanking her for her chickens, lieutenant?"