“It is impossible to-night, my dear friend, it is much too late,” said Monsieur d’Hurbain. “To-morrow, or a few days hence, you will think about it. Since you are in Paris, you should at least get acquainted with the city.”
“Yes,” mumbled Monsieur Gérondif, whose tongue was very thick, “Cras, to-morrow; cras mane, to-morrow morning; perendinus dies, day after to-morrow—no matter when!”
“And with your permission,” said Monfréville, “I will undertake to be your guide, and to show you all that a young man of your rank should know.”
Chérubin made no reply; he would have liked to return to Gagny; but the delicious repast of which he had just partaken had aroused a new train of ideas in his mind, and he had heard so much of the pleasures that awaited him in Paris, of which he had already had such a pleasant specimen, that he finally said to himself:
“After all, as long as I am in the city, I may as well see at once all the wonderful things I have heard so much about; and when I go back to Louise I shall have lots of things to tell her, at all events.”
The cab arrived at the mansion in Faubourg Saint-Germain; the porte cochère was thrown open. The equipage had no sooner entered the courtyard than the ears of the young marquis and his companions were assailed by some most extraordinary music. They heard the strains of several barrel-organs, several violins and two or three clarinets, playing at the same time, but playing different tunes. Male and female voices too, shrill and false, roared ancient airs, laments, or vaudeville choruses. The general result was a horrible medley of sounds.
The occupants of the carriage were asking one another what it could mean, when they heard a dull thud on the pavement, as if caused by the fall of a heavy body. They recognized Jasmin, who, when he attempted to climb down from behind the cab, had fallen in the middle of the courtyard. But the dauntless retainer was already on his feet, crying:
“It’s nothing; I just slipped.—Monsieur le marquis, I ordered this concert—musicians and singers—in honor of your return to your paternal mansion. Long life to the new Marquis de Grandvilain!”
Chérubin thanked Jasmin for his kind intentions, but begged him instantly to dismiss those people, who were making such a horrible din. Monsieur d’Hurbain and Monfréville bade the young man good-night, commending him in whispers to the care of his tutor, who was not in a condition to understand what they said; then they left him to enjoy the repose which he was likely to need.
When the strangers had gone, Jasmin asked Chérubin if he wished to pass his servants in review; and Mademoiselle Turlurette, who was overjoyed to see her young master, proposed that he inspect the linen closets and the servants’ quarters, so that he might become acquainted with his establishment and see how things had been managed since his father’s death. But Chérubin had no desire to take all that trouble; pleasure is fatiguing when one is not accustomed to it, and the young marquis wanted nothing except to go to bed.