Moral Tales

by Madame Guizot

  M. LE CHEVALIER.

  "Stop them! Stop them!" was re-echoed through the Rue St. Honor?."Madame la Marquise is running down the street! This way! Madame laVicomtesse is dragging her dress through the mud! Oh! M. le Baronhas lost his wig! and M. le Chevalier?... William, where is M. leChevalier?"

  And William ran right and left, endeavouring to bring back a numberof dressed-up dogs, such as are seen parading the streets, in littlecarriages. They had just escaped from their kennel, while theirowners were occupied with their morning toilet. This toilet was atedious and difficult affair, for whilst they were washing one, theone which had just gone through the operation, never failed to go andput his paws into the gutter. While M. le Baron was made to stand onhis hind feet, in order to have his fore paws put through the sleevesof his coat, Madame la Marquise, seizing the first opportunity tomake use of her legs, set off running all round the yard, in herpetticoat, which being then much too long, and getting entangledbetween her legs, threw her down; and whilst they ran after her, allthe others would make their escape, half-dressed in their finery. Onthe present occasion, the gate of the yard happened accidentally tobe opened, while one of these scenes was enacted, and all the dogsmade their escape into the street, troubling themselves very littleas to the state in which they appeared before the eyes of the public.

  However, William, the owner's son, had succeeded in catching almostall of them, and, saving the loss of M. le Baron's wig, and theunfortunate accident which had happened to the hat and feathers ofMadame la Vicomtesse, when she rolled in a heap of rubbish, and therent which Madame la Marquise had made in her blue petticoat, allwould have been set to rights, if M. le Chevalier could have beenfound. M. le Chevalier was a very important personage. He was theonly one who was able to waltz with Madame la Pr?sidente. Everybodywas delighted to see them take each other by the neck, with theirfore paws, and dance in time on their hind feet. Now, Madame laPr?sidente could not waltz all alone; thus two talents were lostat the same time. The owner was in despair; he was to go that dayto Clichi, to the fair of St. M?dard, and he built his chief hopesof success upon the waltz. But it was in vain that William went toevery house in the neighbourhood, asking whether any one had seenM. le Chevalier. "And who is M. le Chevalier?" he was everywhereasked; and William replied, "He has a yellow waistcoat, no trousers,pointed ears, a sword at his side, and his tail is bald at the end."Notwithstanding this luminous description, no one could give him anyinformation respecting M. le Chevalier. At length, as it was growinglate, the master decided on setting off with the rest of his troop,telling William to follow him with M. le Chevalier, if he succeededin finding him.

  William had a second time searched all the streets in the vicinity,and was returning home sorrowfully, when he met one of his neighbourscoming from market. He asked her, as he had done every one else,whether she could give him any information about M. le Chevalier.

  "Bah!" said she, "has he not returned? This morning, when your dogsran away, I was just going to market, and I saw him enter the alleyopposite, and go into M. Bucquet's, the linendraper. Has he reallynot come back, then? Oh, I'll wager that it is little Roussel who haskept him."

  George Roussel lived with his father and mother in the house ofM. Bucquet; he was a good boy, and very fond of his parents, andhe also gave great satisfaction at school, where he regularlyattended, as day-scholar: in other respects, however, he was the mostmischief-loving urchin imaginable. As his father, who was employedat a banker's, and his mother, who gave lessons in writing, passedmuch of their time away from home, George was quite his own masterout of school hours, and this time he employed in playing tricks onthe neighbours; nor was it sufficient for him to spend in this mannerthe hours of daylight, the night also was often employed in similarpractices. He slept at the back of the house, in a small room, thewindows of which looked upon the roofs and leads. Through this windowhe passed to go and hunt the cats, and when he succeeded in catchingtwo or three, he tied them together by their tails. Then when everyone was asleep, he would throw them into the house, through astaircase window opening upon the same leads, and run with all speedto his own room as soon as he perceived that the neighbours wereawakened by the frightful uproar which they made in their unavailingefforts to get loose. Immediately all the doors would open, everyone rushing out to know what could be the matter. Then they wouldrun after the cats, which, of course, did not suffer themselves tobe easily caught, but kept crying and mewing, as if they had beenburned, and scratching every one who attempted to separate them.Another time, a neighbour's dog would return to his mistress, coveredwith oil, from the ears to the tail, so that no one could touchhim without being greased, nor could he approach anything withoutleaving on it a stain. On a cold winter's day, George would contriveto attach a piece of ice to the handle of a door-bell, and the firstperson who wanted to ring would snatch his hand away, struck withcold and surprise; or else he would cut the wire attached to thebell, so that people would pull for a quarter of an hour withoutproducing any effect. He also hampered the locks, and hid the keys,if they happened to be left in the doors; and, in fact, every daybrought fresh complaints; but they were of little use. George was anonly child, born when his parents were already advanced in life, andafter they had been married many years without having any children.M. and Madame Roussel loved him, therefore, with such a foolishfondness, that they overlooked all his faults. When complaints weremade of him to M. Roussel, he would shrug his shoulders, and say,"Well, youth must have its day." Nevertheless, he scolded George alittle, for the gratification of the neighbours, but afterwards hehad the weakness to laugh at his tricks. Madame Roussel was stillmore unreasonable, for she became so angry when complaints were madeof her son, that no one dared to speak to her on the subject. Hadthey not been very good tenants, and very punctual in their payments,though their rent was high, M. Bucquet would have given them noticeto leave twenty times over, so disagreeable had George become to thewhole house.

  Besides, everything that happened was laid to his charge; if any oneslipped on the stairs by treading on a cherrystone, it was alwaysGeorge who had scattered them through malice: not a pane of glasswas broken in the hall or passages, but it was always George who haddone it; in fact, his reputation was spread throughout the entireneighbourhood. William had heard him spoken of, and could not doubtthat the conjecture of his acquaintance was well founded, and themore so as another neighbour asserted that he had heard George a fewdays before saying to little Bucquet, "Wouldn't it be nice, Joseph,to have a dog like that? We should get a famous price for it!"

  In consequence of this information, William went to M. Bucquet's, andasked him in what part of the house M. Roussel lived, as he wanted toinquire for his dog, which had been taken by little Roussel.

  "He would be likely enough to do so," said M. Bucquet; "but I thinkhe went out with his father before your dogs took the liberty ofwalking off. Is it not so, Joseph?"

  Joseph, who was occupied in arranging a box of gloves over thecounter, answered "Yes," without raising his head, and William didnot perceive that he blushed very much. As it was known that M. leChevalier had really entered the house, William begged permissionto go and inquire of all the lodgers. No one had seen him; but onpassing by a door that was locked, and which he supposed to be thatbelonging to M. Roussel, he knocked very loudly, and then listenedattentively. At the second knock, he thought he heard a bark, andfancied he recognised the voice of M. le Chevalier. Transported withjoy, he hastened down again, and was astonished at seeing Joseph,who had softly followed him at some distance, endeavouring to makehis escape the moment he was observed. William returned to the shop,exclaiming, "He is there; M. le Chevalier is there. I have heardhim bark;" and seeing Joseph re-enter the shop, he added, "Yes, andI'll wager that M. Joseph knows very well that he is in M. Roussel'sapartments."

  "Indeed!" said M. Bucquet, "I should like to see him interfering withthe tricks of that little rascal George. You may rest assured that hehas not meddled with your dog. If he had, I should
very soon settlehim."

  William inquired whether M. Roussel would be long away, and wasinformed that he was gone to Clichi for the f?te, to pass the daywith his brother, who was steward of the ch?teau, and that he wouldnot return till the evening. William wanted to have the door forced;but M. Bucquet would not consent to such a thing. William thereforedetermined to carry the intelligence he had received to his father,purposing to return immediately, and place himself as sentinel at M.Roussel's door, in order to prevent anything being removed withouthis permission. Meanwhile he begged the neighbours to watch, in caseM. Roussel returned during his absence; and they promised to do so.

  His departure relieved Joseph from a heavy burden, for it was he whohad taken the dog. He had long shared in George's mischievous trickswithout any one being aware of it. As he stood in great awe of hisfather, who sometimes treated him very severely, he had been for along time extremely quiet and orderly, but at length the exampleand the solicitations of George, who was dying to have a companionin his sports, had led him away, without rendering him any the morecourageous. Younger and weaker than George, he preferred such tricksas were of a secret and underhand character, while George delightedin more daring exploits. If a falsehood was to be told, it wasJoseph always who undertook to tell it, and George, who had neverspoken anything but the truth to his own parents, did not considerhow wrong it was to be continually leading Joseph to deceive his. Hehad shown him the way by the leads, in order that he might enter theroom in which he slept without passing by the apartments occupied byM. and Madame Roussel. The morning that M. le Chevalier had enteredthe alley, Joseph met him at the foot of the stairs, and thinkingit a capital opportunity, he took him up, and carried him by way ofthe leads into George's room, never doubting that the latter, likehimself, would be enchanted at the prospect of having him to sell. Hehad felt very much alarmed while William was knocking; but George'sroom being separated from the outside door by three other rooms,all the doors of which were closed, William had heard but faintlythe barking of M. le Chevalier. It had been his first intention towatch for George on his return from Clichi, and tell him what he haddone, in order that he might prevent any one from entering his roomuntil the dog had been disposed of; for he generally left George toextricate himself, as well as he could, out of the scrapes in whichhe not unfrequently placed him. However, after William's departure,thinking that the dog would most certainly be reclaimed, and thatit would be impossible to conceal him, he determined to repass theleads, fetch him, and turn him out of the house. As soon, therefore,as he saw his father occupied, he ran up the stairs, and passingthrough the window, he reached M. Roussel's rooms, and thinking thatperhaps he might only have taken the key without locking the dooroutside, he hoped to be able to open it from within and turn outthe dog, without being suspected. But he found the door locked, sothat it was necessary to return by the usual way. At this moment,he heard his father's voice, calling him at the foot of the stairs.M. le Chevalier had concealed himself under a bed, from which itwas impossible for Joseph to make him move. Besides, how was he toreturn through the staircase window with the dog? His father mightbe coming up, and see him; it was quite hazardous enough to get backalone. Joseph decided, therefore, on taking this latter course,leaving M. le Chevalier in quiet possession of the post to which hehad retreated. He found his father and mother waiting for him at thebottom of the stairs, and told them that he had been to listen at M.Roussel's door in order to ascertain whether the dog was there. Asit was Sunday, they closed the shop, and went out to dine. Josephaccompanied them, somewhat uneasy as to what might be the result ofthis affair, but still hoping to return sufficiently early to tellGeorge, and determined, at all events, to deny having the least sharein the theft.

  Meanwhile, George, who knew nothing of the matter, was amusinghimself at Clichi to his heart's content. In the morning, he hadrowed upon the Seine, in a boat belonging to the ch?teau. Afterwards,he had witnessed the target-shooting, had run at the ring, andbalanced himself in the swing. After dinner, he returned to see thevarious exhibitions in the square. In one corner were the puppets;in another, William's dogs, notwithstanding the absence of M. leChevalier, attracted round them a large concourse of spectators.George saw them from a distance and recognised them; he hastenedimmediately to the spot, called his father, mother, uncle, and allthe company, to whom he was delighted to introduce his friends thedogs. He mingled with the spectators, explained everything, in factdid the honours. "I know them," he said, "they live opposite tous." He enumerated their various talents and expatiated upon theiracquirements, calling each by his own name, as people do in speakingof persons with whom they are very anxious to appear particularlyconnected. "This is M. le Baron," said he, "do you see Madame laVicomtesse? it is she who executes the lady's-chain with Madame laPr?sidente; and M. le Chevalier? Oh! where is M. le Chevalier?"

  At this exclamation, which reawakened all William's regrets, heturned his head, recognised George, and pointed him out to hisfather. The latter approached George in a very rough manner. "Ah!ah!" said he, "it is you then who have stolen my dog?" "Ladies andgentlemen," he continued, "you would have been still more gratifiedif this thief had not stolen from me a new dog which I hoped to havehad the honour of presenting to you. A most admirable dog! Ladiesand gentlemen, had you beheld him, you would have said his equal wasnowhere to be found."

  At this epithet of _thief_, George, though he could not understandhow it was applicable to himself, became red with anger. M. Rousseland the uncle looked at each other, and with great warmth commandedthe owner of the dogs to explain himself. He recommenced hisgrievances and invectives, and swore that they should pay the valueof what he had lost by M. le Chevalier, who assuredly would havetripled the receipts. George, his father, and his uncle replied,became warm, and at length got into a rage, whilst poor MadameRoussel, greatly agitated, wanted to get away. The master of thedogs, on his side, vociferated louder and louder, and began togesticulate. In the heat of the dispute, William, who had finishedhis collection, came to his father's aid. "It is he," he exclaimed,pointing to George; "he stole him in order to sell him; I heard M. leChevalier bark in his room."

  "That's false," said George, accompanying his reply with a blow,which upset all the money that William had collected in his hat. Thelatter wanted both to pick up the money and return the blow at thesame time, but George did not give him the opportunity, for he fellupon him with redoubled violence. William then seriously thought ofdefending himself.

  D'Aumale est plus ardent, plus fort, plus furieux; Turenne est plus adroit, et moins imp?tueux. _La Henriade._

  D'Aumale is more ardent, stronger, more furious; Turenne, less impetuous, displays more skill.

  George gave most blows, but William was more skilful in parrying,and while his hands were employed against George, he endeavouredwith his feet to keep off the little boys, who had rushed to pickup the money. One of these, in order to escape a kick which heperceived was likely to fall to his share, took hold of William bythe leg, and thus threw him on the ground, while George, who washolding him by the hair, fell with him. They were picked up, andseparated. The owner of the dogs now swore that they should not onlypay for the loss of M. le Chevalier's day's work, but the amount ofthe collection also. M. Roussel insisted on knowing positively whatit was they complained of. Madame Roussel, more dead than alive,wished to have the man paid, in order to get away; and her husbandconsented, provided the dog was found in their apartments, of whichhe showed the key, and which he also promised should not be opened,except in the presence of the owner of the dogs, whom he invited toreturn with him to Paris. "And we shall see," said George, doublinghis fist at William, whom he promised himself to pay off in a verydifferent manner.

  They all returned, William dragging the dogs in their carriage; M.Roussel giving his arm to his wife, who could not support herself:the master of the dogs and M. Roussel at one moment talkingangrily, at another more reasonably, and William and Georg
e, whowere carefully kept apart, gesticulating at a distance, and oftenaccompanying their gestures with words, for want of better means ofannoyance. With them came many persons returning to Paris after thef?te, who were curious to see the termination of this affair, whileall the little boys of the village ran after them, trotting withtheir bare feet in the dust.

  The troop reached Paris very much diminished, but sufficientlyconsiderable to attract the attention of the passers by, and to befollowed by a crowd of idle people. M. Bucquet, who beheld all thisassemblage collected at his house, asked what it was all about;and while they were giving him an explanation, Joseph found anopportunity of taking George on one side, and relating to him thewhole affair. George was furious, and commanded him to go at once andtake the dog away, which Joseph refused to do for fear of being seen.

  "I will say that it was you," exclaimed George.

  "I will say that you tell a falsehood," replied Joseph.

  George took him by the ears in order to force him up stairs.

  "I'll scream," said Joseph.

  George, notwithstanding his anger, saw that there was but one courseto be pursued. He left Joseph, ran up stairs, attained the leads,entered his room and sought for the dog, determined, if requisite,to pass the night with him upon the roof; but he sought in vain.As Joseph had left the doors open, M. le Chevalier had had all theapartments at his disposal. Where could he be hidden? It was gettingdusk, and the dog was small, George could not perceive him anywhere,and he was persuading himself that Joseph had been making game ofhim, and was about returning by the way that he had entered, whenthe animal scenting his master at the door, rushed from under a bed,howling most lamentably.

  "Do you hear?" exclaimed the owner.

  "It is impossible," exclaimed M. Roussel, precipitately opening thedoor. He stood perfectly stupified when he beheld his son and the dogin the middle of the room, without being able to understand in theleast by what means they had got there.

  "I knew it would be so," said William triumphantly.

  George, stifled with shame and anger, and rendered furious by theinvectives with which he was overwhelmed from all sides, protestedthat it was not he, but Joseph who did it. The neighbours, delightedat finding him in fault, were indignant that he should throw theblame upon another. M. Bucquet, who knew that if Joseph were theculprit, he should have to pay the damages, flew into a violentpassion with George; and Madame Bucquet, terrified lest her husbandshould beat Joseph, became still louder and more violent in herinvectives: M. Roussel thought that, right or wrong, he ought to takehis son's part; William and his father were clamouring to be paid,and M. le Chevalier howled like a dog who had had no dinner.

  In the midst of this fearful uproar, a venerable clergyman who livedin the house came up. Every one respected him, and he was the onlyperson on whom George had not dared to play his tricks. He madeevery effort to restore peace, but when he had stilled the tumultfor a moment, some voice was raised, every one replied, and thewhole thing was renewed. At length he succeeded in persuading thepeople to disperse, with the exception of the owner of the dogs, whowanted to take M. Roussel before the magistrate to make him pay. M.Roussel did not desire anything better, and George was anxious toaccompany them, in order to justify himself, but Madame Roussel weptand entreated her husband to pay: and the clergyman reminded him thathe had promised to do so if the dog was discovered on his premises:he was therefore obliged to submit; and then the master of the dogs,perfectly satisfied, went away, holding M. le Chevalier under hisarm, and saying, "Monsieur, Madame, very sorry to have troubled you."

  M. and Madame Roussel retired to their own rooms, together with theclergyman, whom they had invited to accompany them. George sat in acorner, tearing his hair in despair. They asked him the truth of thestory, which he explained, and M. Roussel and his wife were terriblyenraged against Joseph.

  "But," said the clergyman, "who taught him to pass by the leads?"

  George agreed that it was he.

  "And who accustomed him to do these mischievous tricks?"

  George was compelled again to own that he had done so.

  "Behold the effect of bad example!" continued the clergyman; "evilis done without very bad intentions, but he whom we instruct incommitting it, learns the evil without heeding the intentions. Josephhas seen you keep dogs in your possession, in order to set theirmasters hunting for them, and he thought it quite as reasonableto conceal one in order to sell it: therefore, it is you who areanswerable for all that he has done."

  George had nothing to say. The clergyman lectured him for some timelonger, and left him completely ashamed of himself, and determined tocorrect his faults: but his parents were obliged to leave the houseand the neighbourhood, for George could never go into the streets,without hearing himself called a _dog-stealer_. For a time it wasthe same at school also, where some of the other boys had relatedthe story; but as he was very much liked, and besides one of thestrongest, his explanation and a few blows soon re-established him inthe esteem of his companions.

  In the end, the truth was discovered in the neighbourhood also, butit was long before the prejudices against him were quite overcome.As for Joseph, it is asserted that he was well beaten by his father,but this only corrected him of the desire of playing tricks on hisneighbours. He continued all his life a coward from disposition, anda liar from the instructions of George; therefore, whenever Georgeheard any evil of him, he felt pained, because he knew that he hadincreased the number of his bad habits.