"Is it you, Mlle. Rigolette?" exclaimed Anastasie; "it is Providence that sends you; help me to save the life of Alfred."
"What do you mean?"
"The darling old duck has fainted. Have mercy on us! Run for me, and get me two sous' worth of absinthe at the dram-shop,—the strongest, mind; it is his remedy when he is indisposed in the pylorus,—that generally sets him up again. Be kind, and do not refuse me, I can then return to Alfred; I am all over in such a fluster."
Rigolette let go Rodolph's arm, and ran quickly to the dram-shop.
"But what has happened, Madame Pipelet?" inquired Rodolph, following the porteress into the lodge.
"How can I tell, my worthy sir? I had gone out to the mayor's, to church, and the cook-shop, to save Alfred so much trotting about; I returned, and what should I see but the dear old cosset with his legs and arms all in the air! There, M. Rodolph," said Anastasie, opening the door of her dog-hole, "say if that is not enough to break one's heart!"
Lamentable spectacle! With his bell-crowned hat still on his head, even further on than usual, for the ambiguous castor, pushed down, no doubt, by violence, to judge by a transverse gap, covered M. Pipelet's eyes, who was on his back on the ground at the foot of his bed. The fainting was over, and Alfred was beginning to make some slight gesticulations with his hands, as if he sought to repulse somebody or something, and then he tried to push off this troublesome visor, with which he had been bonneted.
"He kicks,—that's a beautiful symptom! He comes to!" exclaimed the porteress, who, stooping down, bawled in his ears, "What's the matter with my Alfred? It's his 'Stasie who is with him. How goes it now? There's some absinthe coming, that will set you up." Then, assuming a falsetto voice of much endearment, she added: "What, did they abuse and assassinate him,—the dear old darling, the delight of his 'Stasie, eh?"
Alfred heaved an immense sigh, and, with a mighty groan, uttered the fatal word:
"Cabrion!"