Imagine the stupefaction of my aunt Eudoxia! But being too astute to betray herself, she lets the other speak, questions her and learns the whole story. Then, like the good soul that she is, and feeling sorry for poor Ernest and his swollen stomach, she rings and orders the carriage to be ready, so that she may go as soon as possible to her own doctor; upon which my aunt Van Cloth, who is of an effusive nature, embraces her most affectionately, calling her her dearest friend.
Just then my uncle arrives.
I was not present; but my aunt Eudoxia, who continues to laugh over it, has related to me all the details of the affair. At the sight of this remarkable fusion of "the two branches of his hymens," as she termed it, the Pasha was positively dumbfounded. All the more so as my aunt Van Cloth, who understood no more about this extraordinary position of affairs than she did of Hebrew, threw herself into his arms, and exclaimed:
"Ah! Anatole! here you are, dear!—Our Ernest is in danger!"
The bravest man will quail occasionally; and at this unfortunate and unavoidable attack, which tore asunder the whole veil of mystery, the splendid composure with which Nature has armed my uncle Barbassou really deserted him for a moment. But, like a man who is superior to misfortunes of this sort, when he found himself caught he did not on this occasion, more than on any other, waste any time over spilt cream.
"Quick! we must go and fetch the child!" he said.
And taking advantage of the fact that my aunt Van Cloth was hanging to him, he carried her off without any more ado, and went out by the door, without leaving her time to kiss the Countess of Monteclaro, as she certainly would have done out of politeness. From the ante-room he dragged her down to the carriage, where he packed her in.
I was coming down from my own chambers just as he returned from this summary execution. Although about the last thing I expected to come in for was the climax of a tragic occurrence, I could see easily enough that my uncle had experienced some little shock; but the announcement of dinner and the ordinary tone of my aunt's reception creating a diversion, I did not feel certain until we were seated at table that there was some storm in the air which was only restrained from bursting by the presence of the servants. The Pasha, sitting in silence with his head bent down into his plate, seemed to be absorbed by some abstruse considerations, which caused him that evening to forget to grumble at the cook. My aunt, on the contrary, sparkling with humour, and in her most charming and gracious mood, suggested by her smiles a certain lightness of heart: he eyed her suspiciously from time to time, like a man with an uncomfortable conscience.
When the meal was over we returned to the drawing-room, and coffee being served, remained there alone. The Countess of Monteclaro, still as gracious as ever, made some sly thrusts at him, the significance of which escaped me somewhat. The captain evidently was keeping very quiet. Finally, after half an hour, as I was about to leave, and he showed symptoms of an intention to slip off, she said to him, in her most insinuating manner—
"I will detain you for a minute, my dear; I must have a little conversation with you about a matter on which I want to take your advice."