“A perfectly natural reason: I am the young man whom Monsieur de Grandmaison has replaced.”
“Is it possible? Gad! it was a unique situation! And to think that it was I who took you to the supper and introduced you to poor Grandmaison! Deuce take it! you never said a word, you did not give me your confidence, although I am devoted to you, heart and soul!”
“I wanted to arrange a surprise.”
“You succeeded mighty well!”
“Tell me how the evening ended?”
“Very dismally. There wasn’t any supper. The young woman insisted on retiring. Poor Grandmaison’s face was cut by a bottle of wine that fell on him, heaven knows how, and we had to leave them at liberty to go to bed. But I fancy the night passed very differently from what they anticipated. We parted in an execrable humor. Rocambolle was angry about his cotton padding, Zamorin regretted the supper, and the other the youthful beauty whom he hoped to seduce. I am the only one of the party who takes everything philosophically, as you know. But I confess that I was impatient to see you, to learn the cause of the catastrophe which disturbed the festivities. I came near waking you up last night, in order to find out earlier.”
“You did very well to let me sleep.”
“Well, I must go, neighbor; but, I beg you, have a little more confidence in me another time! You know how close-mouthed I am; you can safely tell me anything! I always receive it under the seal of secrecy. I should have made an excellent inquisitor, or an illuminé! I love secrets. In the matter of secrets, I am absolutely impenetrable. For instance—I am a Freemason: have I ever divulged the secrets of the order?”
“You have told me that there weren’t any.”
“True, true; but I said that to deceive you the better. Adieu, neighbor!—By the way, do you know the news? They say that the Baron de Witcheritche wears horns. There’s a young musician who offered to show the baroness how to play the serpent; the husband consented, because it would be one more string to their bow, and it might be useful on occasion. Moreover, the baron thought that he would compose some little duets for the violin and the serpent, that he and his wife could perform in company. So the musician came every morning to give her lessons; but one fine day, Witcheritche, who was supposed to be in the country, returned home unexpectedly; he found the teacher’s method of instruction too progressive and the baroness too apt. It seems that Witcheritche wasn’t as fond of music as usual that day; for he shrieked and swore; his wife wept, the musician skipped; in short, there was a scandalous scene. Little Friquet, whom I happened to meet the other day, told me about it; he had it from his aunt, who had it from Madame Bertin, who had it from Crachini, who had it from Gripaille, who had it from a young lady who lives in the house with Witcheritche. But I say that we shouldn’t be too ready to believe rumors; we should go back to the fountain head. I am going to the baron’s this morning; I shall see whether he is on cool terms with his wife, and I’ll find a way to make him tell me everything, without seeming to do so, by just mentioning the serpent. Adieu! I have to finish a little vaudeville for which I have an order from Rue de Chartres.”