The more Marcel tried to calm his comrade, the more he lost his temper and shouted, for he believed that Marcel was afraid of him and he wished to profit by his bullying; he even went so far as to draw his sword and run about the room, rolling his little eyes around him as if he would split everything in two. Marcel grew impatient, and seeing that all of his entreaties were vain decided to take a broom handle from behind the door. Putting himself on the defensive, he waited for his enemy to come and attack him, but this action suddenly calmed Chaudoreille's fury. At sight of Marcel on guard with his broom, he stopped and struck his forehead as one who has suddenly received an enlightening idea.
"Great God!" he cried, "What was I going to do? It was in the house of the noble Marquis de Villebelle that I allowed myself to be carried away by anger? Oh, my courage, how much trouble you give me. All is forgotten, Marcel. Come to my arms. I will forgive you."
Marcel, always a good fellow, threw aside his broom and shook hands with Chaudoreille. They returned to the table, but they played no more, and while in the room on the first floor somebody was sighing and looking at the hand of the clock, in the lower room the two comrades ended by putting themselves to sleep while sampling the fine wines and liqueurs of the marquis.
CHAPTER XI
The Pont-Neuf. Tabarin
THE ill-success of his serenade had not daunted the young Urbain; when one is really very much in love one does not lose courage for a trifle. Our lover returned to his dwelling cursing the jealous barber, for he did not doubt that jealousy was at the root of Touquet's exceedingly watchful care of the young girl; and though he was but little dismayed at the barber's threats, Urbain swore, notwithstanding them, to become known to Blanche, and to do everything in his power to make her love him. The act of swearing is in itself extremely easy of accomplishment—what oaths have been taken and broken within a half century only; but we are now speaking merely of the oaths of love, which are lighter, necessarily, than some others, and to break them is considered a pardonable offence. Urbain, who had sworn that he would see Blanche, was, however, greatly troubled to invent a way of doing so; but in love one always swears first and reflects afterwards, and in business it must be confessed there are a good many people who follow the very same course.
On the day after the night on which he had sung, Urbain was walking in the neighborhood of the barber's, but he dared not enter the house, which he ogled sighingly, nor even, for fear of being noticed by Touquet, could he pass by the shop. It was from afar that he examined the windows; nobody could be seen at them. She seemed to be condemned to an eternal seclusion. He waited until Marguerite should leave the house. At last she opened the door of the alley; she was going to get some provisions.
Urbain did not lose sight of the old servant, but he did not dare to go into the shops with her. How could he get into conversation? One is not apt at intrigue at nineteen years of age. At last, at the moment when Marguerite was passing by him, Urbain tremblingly accosted her,—
"Madame, I should very much like—"
"I'm not a dame—I'm not married."
"Mademoiselle if I dared—"