long."
"Ah! you are young; you know nothing of the world," said the old lady.
"A couple of weeks, if you are
judicious, may produce great results;
listen to my advice, and act accordingly."
"Oh! willingly," said Joseph, "I know I have a
perfectly amazing
incapacity for
domestic statesmanship: for example, I am sure I don't
know what Desroches himself would tell us to do if my uncle declines
to see us."
Mesdames Borniche, Goddet-Herau, Beaussier, Lousteau-Prangin and
Fichet, decorated with their husbands, here entered the room.
When the fourteen persons were seated, and the usual compliments were
over, Madame Hochon presented her goddaughter Agathe and Joseph.
Joseph sat in his
armchair all the evening, engaged in slyly studying
the sixty faces which, from five o'clock until half past nine, posed
for him gratis, as he afterwards told his mother. Such
behavior before
the
aristocracy of Issoudun did not tend to change the opinion of the
little town
concerning him: every one went home ruffled by his
sarcastic glances,
uneasy under his smiles, and even frightened at his
face, which seemed
sinister to a class of people
unable to recognize
the singularities of genius.
After ten o'clock, when the household was in bed, Madame Hochon kept
her goddaughter in her
chamber until
midnight. Secure from
interruption, the two women told each other the sorrows of their
lives, and exchanged their sufferings. As Agathe listened to the last
echoes of a soul that had missed its
destiny, and felt the sufferings
of a heart,
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essentiallygenerous and
charitable, whose
charity and
generosity could never be exercised, she realized the immensity of the
desert in which the powers of this noble, unrecognized soul had been
wasted, and knew that she herself, with the little joys and interests
of her city life relieving the bitter trials sent from God, was not
the most
unhappy of the two.
"You who are so pious," she said, "explain to me my shortcomings; tell
me what it is that God is punishing in me."
"He is preparing us, my child," answered the old woman, "for the
striking of the last hour."
At
midnight the Knights of Idleness were collecting, one by one like
shadows, under the trees of the
boulevard Baron, and
speaking together
in whispers.
"What are we going to do?" was the first question of each as he
arrived.
"I think," said Francois, "that Max means merely to give us a supper."
"No; matters are very serious for him, and for the Rabouilleuse: no
doubt, he has concocted some
scheme against the Parisians."
"It would be a good joke to drive them away."
"My grandfather," said Baruch, "is
terribly alarmed at having two
extra mouths to feed, and he'd seize on any pretext--"
"Well, comrades!" cried Max
softly, now appearing on the scene, "why
are you star-gazing? the planets don't
distil kirschwasser. Come, let
us go to Mere Cognette's!"
"To Mere Cognette's! To Mere Cognette's!" they all cried.
The cry, uttered as with one voice, produced a clamor which rang
through the town like the
hurrah of troops rushing to an assault;
total silence followed. The next day, more than one inhabitant must
have said to his neighbor: "Did you hear those
frightful cries last
night, about one o'clock? I thought there was surely a fire
somewhere."
A supper
worthy of La Cognette brightened the faces of the twenty-two
guests; for the whole Order was present. At two in the morning, as
they were
beginning to "siroter" (a word in the
vocabulary of the
Knights which
admirably expresses the act of sipping and tasting the
wine in small quantities), Max rose to speak:--
"My dear fellows! the honor of your grand master was grossly attacked
this morning, after our
memorable joke with Fario's cart,--attacked by
a vile pedler, and what is more, a Spaniard (oh, Cabrera!); and I have
resolved to make the
scoundrel feel the weight of my vengeance;
always, of course, within the limits we have laid down for our fun.
After reflecting about it all day, I have found a trick which is worth
putting into execution,--a famous trick, that will drive him crazy.
While avenging the
insult offered to the Order in my person, we shall
be feeding the
sacred animals of the Egyptians,--little beasts which
are, after all, the creatures of God, and which man unjustly
persecutes. Thus we see that good is the child of evil, and evil is
the offspring of good; such is the
paramount law of the universe! I
now order you all, on pain of displeasing your very
humble grand
master, to
procure clandestinely, each one of you, twenty rats, male
or
female as heaven pleases. Collect your contingent within three
days. If you can get more, the
surplus will be
welcome. Keep the
interesting rodents without food; for it is
essential that the
delightful little beasts be ravenous with
hunger. Please observe that
I will accept both house-mice and field-mice as rats. If we multiply
twenty-two by twenty, we shall have four hundred; four hundred
accomplices let loose in the old church of the Capuchins, where Fario
has stored all his grain, will
consume a not
insignificant quantity!
But be
lively about it! There's no time to lose. Fario is to deliver
most of the grain to his customers in a week or so; and I am
determined that that Spaniard shall find a terrible deficit.
Gentlemen, I have not the merit of this invention," continued Max,
observing the signs of general
admiration. "Render to Caesar that
which is Caesar's, and to God that which is God's. My
scheme is only a
reproduction of Samson's foxes, as
related in the Bible. But Samson
was an incendiary, and
therefore no philanthropist; while we, like the
Brahmins, are the protectors of a persecuted race. Mademoiselle Flore
Brazier has already set all her mouse-traps, and Kouski, my right-arm,
is
hunting field-mice. I have spoken."
"I know," said Goddet, "where to find an animal that's worth forty
rats, himself alone."
"What's that?"
"A squirrel."
"I offer a little monkey," said one of the younger members, "he'll
make himself drunk on wheat."
"Bad, very bad!" exclaimed Max, "it would show who put the beasts
there."
"But we might each catch a
pigeon some night," said young Beaussier,
"taking them from different farms; if we put them through a hole in
the roof, they'll attract thousands of others."
"So, then, for the next week, Fario's
storehouse is the order of the
night," cried Max, smiling at Beaussier. "Recollect; people get up
early in Saint-Paterne. Mind, too, that none of you go there without
turning the soles of your list shoes
backward. Knight Beaussier, the
inventor of
pigeons, is made
director. As for me, I shall take care to
leave my imprint on the sacks of wheat. Gentlemen, you are, all of
you, ap
pointed to the commissariat of the Army of Rats. If you find a
watchman
sleeping in the church, you must manage to make him drunk,--
and do it cleverly,--so as to get him far away from the scene of the
Rodents' Orgy."
"You don't say anything about the Parisians?" questioned Goddet.
"Oh!" exclaimed Max, "I want time to study them. Meantime, I offer my
best shotgun--the one the Emperor gave me, a treasure from the
manufactory at Versailles--to
whoever finds a way to play the Bridaus
a trick which shall get them into difficulties with Madame and
Monsieur Hochon, so that those
worthy old people shall send them off,
or they shall be forced to go of their own accord,--without,
understand me, injuring the
venerable ancestors of my two friends here
present, Baruch and Francois."
"All right! I'll think of it," said Goddet, who coveted the gun.
"If the
inventor of the trick doesn't care for the gun, he shall have
my horse," added Max.
After this night twenty brains were tortured to lay a plot against
Agathe and her son, on the basis of Max's programme. But the devil
alone, or chance, could really help them to success; for the