Pelham — Complete
Page 17
CHAPTER XVII.
I was in this terrible situation when the basket stopt.--OrientalTales--History of the Basket.
We took our way to the street in which Madame Laurent resided. Meanwhilesuffer me to get rid of myself, and to introduce you, dear Reader, to myfriend, Monsieur Margot, the whole of whose adventures were subsequentlydetailed to me by the garrulous Mrs. Green.
At the hour appointed he knocked at the door of my fair countrywoman,and was carefully admitted. He was attired in a dressing-gown ofsea-green silk, in which his long, lean, hungry body, looked more like ariver pike than any thing human.
"Madame," said he, with a solemn air, "I return you my best thanks forthe honour you have done me--behold me at your feet!" and so saying thelean lover gravely knelt down on one knee.
"Rise, Sir," said Mrs. Green, "I confess that you have won my heart; butthat is not all--you have yet to show that you are worthy of the opinionI have formed of you. It is not, Monsieur Margot, your person that haswon me--no! it is your chivalrous and noble sentiments--prove that theseare genuine, and you may command all from my admiration."
"In what manner shall I prove it, Madame," said Monsieur Margot, rising,and gracefully drawing his sea-green gown more closely round him.
"By your courage, your devotion, and your gallantry! I ask but oneproof--you can give it me on the spot. You remember, Monsieur, that inthe days of romance, a lady threw her glove upon the stage on which alion was exhibited, and told her lover to pick it up. Monsieur Margot,the trial to which I shall put you is less severe. Look, (and Mrs.Green threw open the window)--look, I throw my glove out into thestreet--descend for it."
"Your commands are my law," said the romantic Margot. "I will goforthwith," and so saying, he went to the door.
"Hold, Sir!" said the lady, "it is not by that simple manner thatyou are to descend--you must go the same way as my glove, out of thewindow."
"Out of the window, Madame!" said Monsieur Margot, with astonishedsolemnity; "that is impossible, because this apartment is three storieshigh, and consequently I shall be dashed to pieces."
"By no means," answered the dame; "in that corner of the room there is abasket, to which (already foreseeing your determination) I have affixeda rope; by that basket you shall descend. See, Monsieur, what expedientsa provident love can suggest."
"H--e--m!" said, very slowly, Monsieur Margot, by no means liking theairy voyage imposed upon him; "but the rope may break, or your hand maysuffer it to slip."
"Feel the rope," cried the lady, "to satisfy you as to your first doubt;and, as to the second, can you--can you imagine that my affectionswould not make me twice as careful of your person as of my own. Fie!ungrateful Monsieur Margot! fie!"
The melancholy chevalier cast a rueful look at the basket. "Madame,"said he, "I own that I am very averse to the plan you propose: sufferme to go down stairs in the ordinary way; your glove can be as easilypicked up whether your adorer goes out of the door or the window. It isonly, Madame, when ordinary means fail that we should have recourse tothe extraordinary."
"Begone, Sir!" exclaimed Mrs. Green; "begone! I now perceive that yourchivalry was only a pretence. Fool that I was to love you as I havedone--fool that I was to imagine a hero where I now find a--"
"Pause, Madame, I will obey you--my heart is firm--see that the ropeis--"
"Gallant Monsieur Margot!" cried the lady: and going to herdressing-room, she called her woman to her assistance. The rope wasof the most unquestionable thickness, the basket of the most capaciousdimensions. The former was fastened to a strong hook--and the latterlowered.
"I go, Madame," said Monsieur Margot, feeling the rope; "but it reallyis a most dangerous exploit."
"Go, Monsieur! and the God of St. Louis befriend you!"
"Stop!" said Monsieur Margot, "let me fetch my coat: the night is cold,and my dressing-gown thin."
"Nay, nay, my Chevalier," returned the dame, "I love you in that gown:it gives you an air of grace and dignity, quite enchanting."
"It will give me my death of cold, Madame," said Monsieur Margot,earnestly.
"Bah!" said the Englishwoman: "what knight ever feared cold? Besides,you mistake; the night is warm, and you look so handsome in your gown."
"Do I!" said the vain Monsieur Margot, with an iron expression ofsatisfaction; "if that is the case, I will mind it less; but may Ireturn by the door?"
"Yes," replied the lady; "you see that I do not require too much fromyour devotion--enter."
"Behold me!" said the French master, inserting his body into the basket,which immediately began to descend.
The hour and the police of course made the street empty; the lady'shandkerchief waved in token of encouragement and triumph. When thebasket was within five yards of the ground, Mrs. Green cried to herlover, who had hitherto been elevating his serious countenance towardsher, in sober, yet gallant sadness--"Look, look, Monsieur--straightbefore you."
The lover turned round, as rapidly as his habits would allow him, and atthat instant the window was shut, the light extinguished, and the basketarrested. There stood Monsieur Margot, upright in the basket, and therestopped the basket, motionless in the air.
What were the exact reflections of Monsieur Margot, in that position, Icannot pretend to determine, because he never favoured me with them;but about an hour afterwards, Vincent and I (who had been delayed on theroad), strolling up the street, according to our appointment, perceived,by the dim lamps, some opaque body leaning against the wall of MadameLaurent's house, at about the distance of fifteen feet from the ground.
We hastened our steps towards it; a measured and serious voice, whichI well knew, accosted us--"For God's sake, gentlemen, procure meassistance; I am the victim of a perfidious woman, and expect everymoment to be precipitated to the earth."
"Good Heavens!" said I, "surely it is Monsieur Margot, whom I hear. Whatare you doing there?"
"Shivering with cold," answered Monsieur Margot, in a tone tremulouslyslow.
"But what are you in? for I can see nothing but a dark substance."
"I am in a basket," replied Monsieur Margot, "and I should be very muchobliged to you to let me out of it."
"Well--indeed," said Vincent, (for I was too much engaged in laughingto give a ready reply,) "your Chateau-Margot has but a cool cellar. Butthere are some things in the world easier said than done. How are we toremove you to a more desirable place?"
"Ah," returned Monsieur Margot, "how indeed! There is to be sure aladder in the porter's lodge long enough to deliver me; but then, thinkof the gibes and jeers of the porter--it will get wind--I shall beridiculed, gentlemen--I shall be ridiculed--and what is worse, I shalllose my pupils."
"My good friend," said I, "you had better lose your pupils than yourlife; and the day-light will soon come, and then, instead of beingridiculed by the porter, you will be ridiculed by the whole street!"
Monsieur Margot groaned. "Go, then, my friend," said he, "procure theladder! Oh, those she devils!--what could make me such a fool!"
Whilst Monsieur Margot was venting his spleen in a scarcely articulatemutter, we repaired to the lodge, knocked up the porter, communicatedthe accident, and procured the ladder. However, an observant eye hadbeen kept upon our proceedings, and the window above was re-opened,though so silently that I only perceived the action. The porter,a jolly, bluff, hearty-looking fellow, stood grinning below with alantern, while we set the ladder (which only just reached the basket)against the wall.
The chevalier looked wistfully forth, and then, by the light ofthe lantern, we had a fair view of his ridiculous figure--his teethchattered woefully, and the united cold without and anxiety within,threw a double sadness and solemnity upon his withered countenance;the night was very windy, and every instant a rapid current seized theunhappy sea-green vesture, whirled it in the air, and threw it, as ifin scorn, over the very face of the miserable professor. The constantrecurrence of this sportive irreverence of the gales--the high sides ofthe basket, and the trembling a
gitation of the inmate, never too agile,rendered it a work of some time for Monsieur Margot to transfer himselffrom the basket to the ladder; at length, he had fairly got out onethin, shivering leg.
"Thank God!" said the pious professor--when at that instant thethanksgiving was checked, and, to Monsieur Margot's inexpressibleastonishment and dismay, the basket rose five feet from the ladder,leaving its tenant with one leg dangling out, like a flag from aballoon.
The ascent was too rapid to allow Monsieur Margot even time for anexclamation, and it was not till he had had sufficient leisure in hispresent elevation to perceive all its consequences, that he found wordsto say, with the most earnest tone of thoughtful lamentation, "One couldnot have foreseen this!--it is really extremely distressing--would toGod that I could get my leg in, or my body out!"
While we were yet too convulsed with laughter to make any comment uponthe unlooked-for ascent of the luminous Monsieur Margot, the basketdescended with such force as to dash the lantern out of the hand of theporter, and to bring the professor so precipitously to the ground, thatall the bones in his skin rattled audibly!
"My God!" said he, "I am done for!--be witness how inhumanly I have beenmurdered."
We pulled him out of the basket, and carried him between us into theporter's lodge; but the woes of Monsieur Margot were not yet at theirtermination. The room was crowded. There was Madame Laurent,--there wasthe German count, whom the professor was teaching French;--there wasthe French viscount, whom he was teaching German;--there were allhis fellow-lodgers--the ladies whom he had boasted of--the men he hadboasted to--Don Juan, in the infernal regions, could not have met witha more unwelcome set of old acquaintance than Monsieur Margot had thehappiness of opening his bewildered eyes upon in the porter's lodge.
"What!" cried they all, "Monsieur Margot, is that you who have beenfrightening us so? We thought the house was attacked; the Russiangeneral is at this very moment loading his pistols; lucky for you thatyou did not choose to stay longer in that situation. Pray, Monsieur,what could induce you to exhibit yourself so, in your dressing-gown too,and the night so cold? Ar'n't you ashamed of yourself?"
All this, and infinitely more, was levelled against the miserableprofessor, who stood shivering with cold and fright; and turning hiseyes first upon one, and then on another, as the exclamations circulatedround the room,
"I do assure you," at length he began.
"No, no," cried one, "it is of no use explaining now!"
"Mais, Messieurs," querulously recommenced the unhappy Margot.
"Hold your tongue," exclaimed Madame Laurent, "you have been disgracingmy house."
"Mais, Madame, ecoutez-moi--"
"No, no," cried the German, "we saw you--we saw you."
"Mais, Monsieur Le Comte--" "Fie, fie!" cried the Frenchman.
"Mais, Monsisur Le Vicomte--" At this every mouth was opened, and thepatience of Monsieur Margot being by this time exhausted, he flew intoa violent rage; his tormentors pretended an equal indignation, and atlength he fought his way out of the room, as fast as his shattered boneswould allow him, followed by the whole body, screaming, and shouting,and scolding, and laughing after him.
The next morning passed without my usual lesson from Monsieur Margot;that was natural enough: but when the next day, and the next, rolled on,and brought neither Monsieur Margot nor his excuse, I began to be uneasyfor the poor man. Accordingly I sent to Madame Laurent's to inquireafter him: judge of my surprise at hearing that he had, early the dayafter his adventure, left his lodgings with his small possession ofbooks and clothes, leaving only a note to Madame Laurent, enclosing theamount of his debt to her, and that none had since seen or heard of him.
From that day to this I have never once beheld him. The poor professorlost even the little money due to him for his lessons--so true isit, that in a man of Monsieur Margot's temper, even interest is asubordinate passion to vanity.