“Not yet—not yet; there’s no cause for hurrying. What would be said if judges, barristers, and procureurs were to go to drink and play at midday? It wouldn’t be respectable; they must wait until the public-houses are shut up, and set an example of good morals.”
Thus spoke the pastor, which did not prevent Maître Frantz Mathéus from pressing forward with lengthened strides, under the impulsion of new enthusiasm, murmuring to himself—“Courage, Frantz! Listen not to the counsels of a false wisdom and of a cowardly love of repose; the captious windings of sophistry shall neither bewilder your intelligence nor hinder your triumphant march.”
The pastor laughed at his precipitation.
“Where are you rushing, my dear monsieur—where are you rushing?” he cried, on the doorstep of the casino. “Don’t you see where we are?”
Looking about him, Maître Frantz observed tall windows shining in the midst of the darkness, with the figures of dancers flitting across their red curtains.
“It is here,” he thought, “that the regeneration of mankind is about to be accomplished!”
He was greatly moved by this magnificent idea, but still greater was his emotion when, the pastor having opened the door, he beheld a large room illuminated by a great number of lights. A considerable number of persons were already assembled. Some were reading the newspapers; Monsieur le Notaire Creutzer was playing a game of piquet with Monsieur l’Avocat Swibel; the noble Baron Pipelnaz, thrown back in a large arm-chair, was gravely discussing the affairs of the country; and the young substitute Papler was chatting and laughing with handsome Mademoiselle Olympia, the young lady at the refreshment counter. It was a superb sight, such as Maître Frantz could not remember to have seen for many years; and when, passing by one of the gold-framed looking-glasses, he saw himself standing in the middle of the room in his brown overcoat, short breeches, and check waistcoat, he inwardly thanked the pastor for having caused his boots to be polished and his coat brushed.
The members of the casino had turned their heads and smiled at sight of the good man; they took him for a peasant of Upper Alsace, who had lost his way amid superior spheres, and his air of admiration was pleasant to them to see; but when the pastor handed him a seat, and ordered two glasses of beer, they thought it must be some village clergyman, and each returned to his former attitude.
The fair Olympia rang her bell, and the two glasses of beer were served upon a brilliantly-painted lacquered tray.
How astonished Mathéus must have been by such magnificence may be imagined; globes of crystal covered the lamps, and the chairs were covered with velvet, soft as the fleece of young lambs. Thus it was that, in spite of his resolute convictions, he could not help feeling a sort of timidity, natural to those who find themselves in the presence of the great ones of the earth.