The little brunette chose the right road this time, and refusing to listen to Chambourdin, she arrived in front of the stage at last; but as she had anticipated, all the chairs were occupied.
“Well! what did I tell you, monsieur? Come, show me that excellent seat which you reserved for me.”
“This way, madame; I will show you.”
And Chambourdin led the young lady to an enormous chestnut, the branches of which reached out a long way, forming a thousand odd figures.
“See, madame, do you want a really good seat? Look at this tree; this first branch, which is very low, will afford you a chair, yes, an armchair, for the branches behind seem placed there expressly for a support. As for the strength of the branch, you need have no fear, it would bear fifteen people like you. From there, you will overlook everybody, and will have an infinitely better view than all the ladies in the chairs. Will you allow me to put you up there, madame? Nothing could be easier; I will make a step for you.”
Madame Boutillon roared with laughter at the suggestion of her escort; but as she was a very original person herself, and as she was especially fond of making herself as whimsical as possible, she accepted the suggestion and replied:
“All right, monsieur, give me a back, and let me climb up to my box.”
The young man at once obeyed, offering his hands and his shoulders. That method of climbing a tree was slightly risqué for a lady, and all the men who witnessed the scene envied the opportunity of the one who acted as Madame Boutillon’s ladder; but she mounted so rapidly, and turned about in the tree with such aplomb, that everybody applauded her ascent. Chambourdin remained standing near the pretty brunette, who used his shoulders as a bench to rest her feet upon; and not for anything on earth would he have abandoned his position.
Madame Glumeau, who had turned toward the chestnut tree, called to Madame Boutillon:
“Mon Dieu, madame! what on earth are you doing there? What an idea to climb up into that tree!”