Le Juif errant. English by Eugène Sue
CHAPTER XXXI. FRIENDLY SERVICES.
Notwithstanding his surprise and uneasiness, Rodin did not frown. Hebegan by locking his door after him, as he noticed the young girl'sinquisitive glance. Then he said to her good-naturedly, "Who do youwant, my dear?"
"M. Rodin," repeated Rose-Pompon, stoutly, opening her bright blue eyesto their full extent, and looking Rodin full in the face.
"It's not here," said he, moving towards the stairs. "I do not know him.Inquire above or below."
"No, you don't! giving yourself airs at your age!" said Rose-Pompon,shrugging her shoulders. "As if we did not know that you are M. Rodin."
"Charlemagne," said the socius, bowing; "Charlemagne, to serve you--if Iam able."
"You are not able," answered Rose-Pompon, majestically; then she addedwith a mocking air, "So, we have our little pussy-cat hiding-places; wechange our name; we are afraid Mamma Rodin will find us out."
"Come, my dear child," said the socius, with a paternal smile; "you havecome to the right quarter. I am an old man, but I love youth--happy,joyous youth! Amuse yourself, pray, at my expense. Only let me pass, forI am in a hurry." And Rodin again advanced towards the stairs.
"M. Rodin," said Rose-Pompon, in a solemn voice, "I have very importantthings to say to you, and advice to ask about a love affair."
"Why, little madcap that you are! have you nobody to tease in your ownhouse, that you must come here?"
"I lodge in this house, M. Rodin," answered Rose-Pompon, laying amalicious stress on the name of her victim.
"You? Oh, dear, only to think I did not know I had such a prettyneighbor."
"Yes, I have lodged here six months, M. Rodin."
"Really! where?"
"On the third story, front, M. Rodin."
"It was you, then, that sang so well just now?"
"Rather."
"You gave me great pleasure, I must say."
"You are very polite, M. Rodin."
"You lodge, I suppose, with your respectable family?"
"I believe you, M. Rodin," said Rose-Pompon, casting down her eyeswith a timid air. "I lodge with Grandpapa Philemon, and GrandmammaBacchanal--who is a queen and no mistake."
Rodin had hitherto been seriously uneasy, not knowing in what mannerRose had discovered his real name. But on hearing her mention theBacchanal queen, with the information that she lodged in the house,he found something to compensate for the disagreeable incident ofRose-Pompon's appearance. It was, indeed, important to Rodin to findout the Bacchanal Queen, the mistress of Sleepinbuff, and the sister ofMother Bunch, who had been noted as dangerous since her interview withthe superior of the convent, and the part she had taken in the projectedescape of Mdlle. de Cardoville. Moreover, Rodin hoped--thanks to what hehad just heard--to bring Rose-Pompon to confess to him the name of theperson from whom she had learned that "Charlemagne" masked "Rodin."
Hardly had the young girl pronounced the name of the Bacchanal queen,than Rodin clasped his hands, and appeared as much surprised asinterested.
"Oh, my dear child," he exclaimed, "I conjure you not to jest on thissubject. Are you speaking of a young girl who bears that nickname, thesister of a deformed needlewoman."
"Yes, sir, the Bacchanal Queen is her nickname," said Rose-Pompon,astonished in her turn; "she is really Cephyse Soliveau, and she is myfriend."
"Oh! she is your friend?" said Rodin, reflecting.
"Yes, sir, my bosom friend."
"So you love her?"
"Like a sister. Poor girl! I do what I can for her, and that's not much.But how comes it that a respectable man of your age should know theBacchanal Queen?--Ah! that shows you have a false name!"
"My dear child, I am no longer inclined to laugh," said Rodin, withso sorrowful an air, that Rose-Pompon, reproaching herself with herpleasantry, said to him: "But how comes it that you know Cephyse?"
"Alas! I do not know her--but a young fellow, that I like excessively--"
"Jacques Rennepont?"
"Otherwise called Sleepinbuff. He is now in prison for debt," sighedRodin. "I saw him yesterday."
"You saw him yesterday?--how strange!" said Rose-Pompon, clapping herhands. "Quick! quick!--come over to Philemon's, to give Cephyse news ofher lover. She is so uneasy about him."
"My dear child, I should like to give her good news of that worthyfellow, whom I like in spite of his follies, for who has not been guiltyof follies?" added Rodin, with indulgent good-nature.
"To be sure," said Rose-Pompon, twisting about as if she still wore thecostume of a debardeur.
"I will say more," added Rodin: "I love him because of his follies; for,talk as we may, my dear child, there is always something good at bottom,a good heart, or something, in those who spend generously their moneyfor other people."
"Well, come! you are a very good sort of a man," said Rose-Pompon,enchanted with Rodin's philosophy. "But why will you not come and seeCephyse, and talk to her of Jacques?"
"Of what use would it be to tell her what she knows already--thatJacques is in prison? What I should like, would be to get the worthyfellow out of his scrape."
"Oh, sir! only do that, only get Jacques out of prison," cried RosePompon, warmly, "and we will both give you a kiss--me and Cephyse!"
"It would be throwing kisses away, dear little madcap!" said Rodin,smiling. "But be satisfied, I want no reward to induce me to do goodwhen I can."
"Then you hope to get Jacques out of prison?"
Rodin shook his head, and answered with a grieved and disappointed air."I did hope it. Certainly, I did hope it; but now all is changed."
"How's that?" asked Rose-Pompon, with surprise.
"That foolish joke of calling me M. Rodin may appear very amusing toyou, my dear child. I understand it, you being only an echo. Some onehas said to you: 'Go and tell M. Charlemagne that he is one M. Rodin.That will be very funny.'"
"Certainly, I should never myself have thought of calling you M. Rodin.One does not invent such names," answered Rose-Pompon.
"Well! that person with his foolish jokes, has done, without knowing it,a great injury to Jacques Rennepont."
"What! because I called you Rodin instead of Charlemagne?" cried RosePompon, much regretting the pleasantry which she had carried on at theinstigation of Ninny Moulin. "But really, sir," she added, "what canthis joke have to do with the service that you were, about to renderJacques?"
"I am not at liberty to tell you, my child. In truth, I am very sorryfor poor Jacques. Believe me, I am; but do let me pass.
"Listen to me, sir, I beg," said Rose-Pompon; "if I told you the nameof the person who told me to call you Rodin, would you interest yourselfagain for Jacques?"
"I do not wish to know any one's secrets, my dear child. In all this,you have been the echo of persons who are, perhaps, very dangerous;and, notwithstanding the interest I feel for Jacques Rennepont, I do notwish, you understand, to make myself enemies. Heaven forbid!"
Rose-Pompon did not at all comprehend Rodin's fears, and upon this hehad counted; for after a second's reflection, the young girl resumed:"Well, sir--this is too deep for me; I do not understand it. All I knowis, that I am truly sorry if I have injured a good young man by a merejoke. I will tell you exactly how it happened. My frankness may be ofsome use."
"Frankness will often clear up the most obscure matters," said Rodin,sententiously.
"After all," said Rose-Pompon, "it's Ninny's fault. Why does he tellme nonsense, that might injure poor Cephyse's lover? You see, sir, ithappened in this way. Ninny Moulin who is fond of a joke, saw you justnow in the street. The portress told him that your name was Charlemagne.He said to me: 'No; his name is Rodin. We must play him a trick. Go tohis room, Rose-Pompon, knock at the door, and call him M. Rodin. Youwill see what a rum face he will make.' I promised Ninny Moulin not toname him; but I do it, rather than run the risk of injuring Jacques."
At Ninny Moulin's name Rodin had not been able to repress a movement ofsurprise. This pamphleteer, whom he had employed to edit
"So, my dear child," said he to Rose-Pompon, "it is a M. Desmoulins thatpersuaded you to play off this silly joke?"
"Not Desmoulins, but Dumoulin," corrected Rose. "He writes in thepewholders' papers, and defends the saints for money; for, if NinnyMoulin is a saint, his patrons are Saint Drinkard and Saint Flashette,as he himself declares."
"This gentleman appears to be very gay."
"Oh! a very good fellow."
"But stop," resumed Rodin, appearing to recollect himself; "ain't he aman about thirty-six or forty, fat, with a ruddy complexion?"
"Ruddy as a glass of red wine," said Rose-Pompon, "and with a pimplednose like a mulberry."
"That's the man--M. Dumoulin. Oh! in that case, I am quite satisfied,my dear child. The jest no longer makes me uneasy; for M. Dumoulin is avery worthy man--only perhaps a little too fond of his joke."
"Then, sir, you will try to be useful to Jacques? The stupid pleasantryof Ninny Moulin will not prevent you?"
"I hope not."
"But I must not tell Ninny Moulin that you know it was he who sent me tocall you M. Rodin--eh, sir?"
"Why not? In every case, my dear child, it is always better to speakfrankly the truth."
"But, sir, Ninny Moulin so strongly recommended me not to name him toyou--"
"If you have named him, it is from a very good motive; why not avowit? However, my dear child, this concerns you, not me. Do as you thinkbest."
"And may I tell Cephyse of your good intentions towards Jacques?"
"The truth, my dear child, always the truth. One need never hesitate tosay what is."
"Poor Cephyse! how happy she will be!" cried Rose-Pompon, cheerfully;"and the news will come just in time."
"Only you must not exaggerate; I do not promise positively to get thisgood fellow out of prison; I say, that I will do what I can. But what Ipromise positively is--for, since the imprisonment of poor Jacques, yourfriend must be very much straitened--"
"Alas, sir!"
"What I promise positively is some little assistance which your friendwill receive to-day, to enable her to live honestly; and if she behaveswell--hereafter--why, hereafter, we shall see."
"Oh, sir! you do not know how welcome will be your assistance to poorCephyse! One might fancy you were her actual good angel. Faith! you maycall yourself Rodin, or Charlemagne; all I know is, that you are a nice,sweet--"
"Come, come, do not exaggerate," said Rodin; "say a good sort of oldfellow; nothing more, my dear child. But see how things fall out,sometimes! Who could have told me, when I heard you knock at mydoor--which, I must say, vexed me a great deal--that it was a prettylittle neighbor of mine, who under the pretext of playing off a joke,was to put me in the way of doing a good action? Go and comfort yourfriend; this evening she will receive some assistance; and let us havehope and confidence. Thanks be, there are still some good people in theworld!"
"Oh, sir! you prove it yourself."
"Not at all! The happiness of the old is to see the young happy."
This was said by Rodin with so much apparent kindness, that Rose-Pomponfelt the tears well up to her eyes, and answered with much emotion:"Sir, Cephyse and me are only poor girls; there are many more virtuousin the world; but I venture to say, we have good hearts. Now, if everyou should be ill, only send for us; there are no Sisters of Charitythat will take better care of you. It is all that we can offer you,without reckoning Philemon, who shall go through fire and water foryou, I give you my word for it--and Cephyse, I am sure, will answer forJacques also, that he will be yours in life and death."
"You see, my dear child, that I was right in saying--a fitful head and agood heart. Adieu, till we meet again."
Thereupon Rodin, taking up the basket, which he had placed on the groundby the side of his umbrella, prepared to descend the stairs.
"First of all, you must give me this basket; it will be in your waygoing down," said Rose-Pompon, taking the basket from the hands ofRodin, notwithstanding his resistance. Then she added: "Lean upon myarm. The stairs are so dark. You might slip."
"I will accept your offer, my dear child, for I am not very courageous."Leaning paternally on the right arm of Rose-Pompon, who held thebasket in her left hand, Rodin descended the stairs, and crossed thecourt-yard.
"Up there, on the third story, do you see that big face close to thewindow-frame?" said Rose-Pompon suddenly to Rodin, stopping in thecentre of the little court. "That is my Ninny Moulin. Do you know him?Is he the same as yours?"
"The same as mine," said Rodin, raising his head, and waving his handvery affectionately to Jacques Dumoulin, who, stupefied thereat, retiredabruptly from the window.
"The poor fellow! I am sure he is afraid of me since his foolish joke,"said Rodin, smiling. "He is very wrong."
And he accompanied these last words with a sinister nipping of the lips,not perceived by Rose-Pompon.
"And now, my dear child," said he, as they both entered the passage, "Ino longer need you assistance; return to your friend, and tell her thegood news you have heard."
"Yes, sir, you are right. I burn with impatience to tell her what a goodman you are." And Rose-Pompon sprung towards the stairs.
"Stop, stop! how about my basket that the little madcap carries off withher?" said Rodin.
"Oh true! I beg your pardon, sir. Poor Cephyse! how pleased she will be.Adieu, sir!" And Rose-Pompon's pretty figure disappeared in the darknessof the staircase, which she mounted with an alert and impatient step.
Rodin issued from the entry. "Here is your basket, my good lady," saidhe, stopping at the threshold of Mother Arsene's shop. "I give you myhumble thanks for your kindness."
"For nothing, my dear sir, for nothing. It is all at your service. Well,was the radish good?"
"Succulent, my dear madame, and excellent."
"Oh! I am glad of it. Shall we soon see you again?"
"I hope so. But could you tell me where is the nearest post-office?"
"Turn to the left, the third house, at the grocer's."
"A thousand thanks."
"I wager it's a love letter for your sweetheart," said Mother Arsene,enlivened probably by Rose Pompon's and Ninny Moulin's proximity.
"Ha! ha! ha! the good lady!" said Rodin, with a titter. Then, suddenlyresuming his serious aspect, he made a low bow to the greengrocer,adding: "Your most obedient humble servant!" and walked out into thestreet.
We now usher the reader into Dr. Baleinier's asylum, in which Mdlle. deCardoville was confined.