“You don’t know anything about them, Josette. Mind your pots and pans, and heat the water,” remarked the old Fleming, interrupting the cook.
“I know enough to know there used to be several thousand ounces of silver-ware about this house which you and your master have melted up; and if you are allowed to have your way, you’ll make ducks and drakes of everything till there’s nothing left.”
“And monsieur,” added Martha, entering the kitchen, “will kill madame, just to get rid of a woman who restrains him and won’t let him swallow up everything he’s got. He’s possessed by the devil; anybody can see that. You don’t risk your soul in helping him, Mulquinier, because you haven’t got any; look at you! sitting there like a bit of ice when we are all in such distress; the young ladies are crying like two Magdalens. Go and fetch Monsieur l’Abbe de Solis.”
“I’ve got something to do for monsieur. He told me to put the laboratory in order,” said the valet. “Besides, it’s too far—go yourself.”
“Just hear the brute!” cried Martha. “Pray who is to give madame her foot-bath? do you want her to die? she has got a rush of blood to the head.”
“Mulquinier,” said Marguerite, coming into the servants’ hall, which adjoined the kitchen, “on your way back from Monsieur de Solis, call at Dr. Pierquin’s house and ask him to come here at once.”
“Ha! you’ve got to go now,” said Josette.
“Mademoiselle, monsieur told me to put the laboratory in order,” said Lemulquinier, facing the two women and looking them down, with a despotic air.
“Father,” said Marguerite, to Monsieur Claes who was just then descending the stairs, “can you let Mulquinier do an errand for us in town?”
“Now you’re forced to go, you old barbarian!” cried Martha, as she heard Monsieur Claes put Mulquinier at his daughter’s bidding.