Madame Cardinal was one of Cerizet’s earliest clients; she peddled fish. If Parisians know these creations peculiar to their soil, foreigners have no suspicion of their existence; and Mere Cardinal—technologically speaking, of course, deserved all the interest she excited in Theodose. So many women of her species may be met with in the streets that the passers-by give them no more attention than they give to the three thousand pictures of the Salon. But as she stood in Cerizet’s office the Cardinal had all the value of an isolated masterpiece; she was a complete and perfect type of her species.
The woman was mounted on muddy sabots; but her feet, carefully wrapped in gaiters, were still further protected by stout and thick-ribbed stockings. Her cotton gown, adorned with a glounce of mud, bore the imprint of the strap which supported the fish-basket. Her principal garment was a shawl of what was called “rabbit’s-hair cashmere,” the two ends of which were knotted behind, above her bustle—for we must needs employ a fashionable word to express the effect produced by the transversal pressure of the basket upon her petticoats, which projected below it, in shape like a cabbage. A printed cotton neckerchief, of the coarsest description, gave to view a red neck, ribbed and lined like the surface of a pond where people have skated. Her head was covered in a yellow silk foulard, twined in a manner that was rather picturesque. Short and stout, and ruddy of skin, Mere Cardinal probably drank her little drop of brandy in the morning. She had once been handsome. The Halle had formerly reproached her, in the boldness of its figurative speech, for doing “a double day’s-work in the twenty-four.” Her voice, in order to reduce itself to the diapason of ordinary conversation, was obliged to stifle its sound as other voices do in a sick-room; but at such times it came thick and muffled, from a throat accustomed to send to the farthest recesses of the highest garret the names of the fish in their season. Her nose, a la Roxelane, her well-cut lips, her blue eyes, and all that formerly made up her beauty, was now buried in folds of vigorous flesh which told of the habits and occupations of an outdoor life. The stomach and bosom were distinguished for an amplitude worthy of Rubens.
“Do you want to make me lie in the straw?” she said to Cerizet. “What do I care for the Toupilliers? Ain’t I a Toupillier myself? What do you want to do with them, those Toupilliers?”
This savage outburst was hastily repressed by Cerizet, who uttered a prolonged “Hush-sh!” such as all conspirators obey.
“Well, go and find out all you can about it, and come back to me,” said Cerizet, pushing the woman toward the door, and whispering, as he did so, a few words in her ear.
“Well, my dear friend,” said Theodose to Cerizet, “you have got your money?”
“Yes,” returned Cerizet “we have measured our claws, they are the same length, the same strength, and the same sharpness. What next?”
“Am I to tell Dutocq that you received, last night, twenty-five thousand francs?”
“Oh! my dear friend, not a word, if you love me!” cried Cerizet.
“Listen,” said Theodose. “I must know, once for all, what you want. I am positively determined not to remain twenty-four hours longer on the gridiron where you have got me. Cheat Dutocq if you will; I am utterly indifferent to that; but I intend that you and I shall come to an understanding. It is a fortune that I have paid you, twenty-five thousand francs, and you must have earned ten thousand more in your business; it is enough to make you an honest man. Cerizet, if you will leave me in peace, if you won’t prevent my marriage with Mademoiselle Colleville, I shall certainly be king’s attorney-general, or something of that kind in Paris. You can’t do better than make sure of an influence in that sphere.”