“The devil take him and his orgies!” exclaimed Florentine. “He and Camusot are worse than magistrates or stage-managers. But we have very good dinners here, Mariette,” she continued. “Cardot always orders them from Chevet’s; bring your Duc de Maufrigneuse and we’ll make them dance like Tritons.”
Hearing the names of Cardot and Camusot, Oscar made an effort to throw off his sleep; but he could only mutter a few words which were not understood, and then he fell back upon the silken cushions.
“You’ll have to keep him here all night,” said Fanny Beaupre, laughing, to Florentine.
“Oh! poor boy! he is drunk with punch and despair both. It is the second clerk in your brother’s office,” she said to Mariette. “He has lost the money his master gave him for some legal affair. He wanted to drown himself; so I lent him a thousand francs, but those brigands Finot and Giroudeau won them from him. Poor innocent!”
“But we ought to wake him,” said Mariette. “My brother won’t make light of it, nor his master either.”
“Oh, wake him if you can, and carry him off with you!” said Florentine, returning to the salon to receive the adieux of some departing guests.
Presently those who remained began what was called “character dancing,” and by the time it was broad daylight, Florentine, tired out, went to bed, oblivious to Oscar, who was still in the boudoir sound asleep.
CHAPTER X. ANOTHER CATASTROPHE
About eleven the next morning, a terrible sound awoke the unfortunate clerk. Recognizing the voice of his uncle Cardot, he thought it wise to feign sleep, and so turned his face into the yellow velvet cushions on which he had passed the night.