CHAPTER X.
SEGOFFIN'S DISSIMULATION.
It would be far from complimentary to the reader's penetration to suppose that he had not long since recognised in Onésime's defender Mlle. Cloarek, who lost her mother at the age of five years, in consequence of a nervous shock. We trust, too, that the reader's penetration has served him equally well in the case of Suzanne Roberts, Sabine's former nurse, and Madame Cloarek's confidential attendant and housekeeper, and likewise in the case of Captain l'Endurci and his brave head gunner.
Twelve years have elapsed since we last saw Segoffin, and he is little changed in appearance. He looks as much like a clown as ever, the only modifications which time, or rather events, have made in his grotesquely grave features being, first, a deep scar beginning at the left temple, and extending to the bottom of the cheek (a wound caused, as he affirmed, by an unfortunate fall upon a piece of broken glass).
Second, the recent loss of an eye, an unfortunate loss indicated by a large black patch, and caused, no doubt, by some similar mishap.
In spite of these rather grave injuries to his personal charms, M. Segoffin held his head as high as ever. A long white cravat, decorated with bright red polka dots, encircled his throat; his long redingote and knee-breeches were of the finest brown broadcloth, and his black stockings were of silk. In his right hand, from which two fingers were missing,—two fingers carelessly lost, as he declared, from having been caught in a piece of machinery,—he carried a heavy cane, for he was quite lame now, in consequence of another accident,—at least, so he said.
On seeing Segoffin, Dame Roberts, in spite of the taunts with which she had pursued him for so many years, made no attempt to conceal her pleasure. In the delight his return caused her, she did not notice, at first, that Segoffin was all the while endeavouring to present only his profile, or as nearly a three-quarter view of his face as possible, to the object of his affections. The fact is, he wished to defer the explanation of the recent loss of his eye until the latest possible moment, but the lady, on going a little closer to him, noticed the disfiguring patch, and exclaimed:
"Good Heavens! what is the matter with your eye, Segoffin?"
"Which eye?"
"Why, your right eye."
"My right eye?"