by Eugène Sue
CHAPTER V. FLORINE.
While the Bacchanal Queen and Sleepinbuff terminated so sadly the mostjoyous portion of their existence, the sempstress arrived at the door ofthe summer-house in the Rue de Babylone.
Before ringing she dried her tears; a new grief weighed upon herspirits. On quitting the tavern, she had gone to the house of the personwho usually found her in work; but she was told that she could not haveany because it could be done a third more cheaply by women in prison.Mother Bunch, rather than lose her last resource, offered to take it atthe third less; but the linen had been already sent out; and thegirl could not hope for employment for a fortnight to come, even ifsubmitting to this reduction of wages. One may conceive the anguish ofthe poor creature; the prospect before her was to die of hunger, ifshe would not beg or steal. As for her visit to the lodge in the Rue deBabylone, it will be explained presently.
She rang the bell timidly; a few minutes after, Florine opened the doorto her. The waiting-maid was no longer adorned after the charming tasteof Adrienne; on the contrary, she was dressed with an affectation ofaustere simplicity. She wore a high-necked dress of a dark color, madefull enough to conceal the light elegance of her figure. Her bands ofjet-black hair were hardly visible beneath the flat border of a starchedwhite cap, very much resembling the head-dress of a nun. Yet, in spiteof this unornamental costume, Florine's pale countenance was stilladmirably beautiful.
We have said that, placed by former misconduct at the mercy of Rodinand M. d'Aigrigny, Florine had served them as a spy upon her mistress,notwithstanding the marks of kindness and confidence she had receivedfrom her. Yet Florine was not entirely corrupted; and she often sufferedpainful, but vain, remorse at the thought of the infamous part she wasthus obliged to perform.
At the sight of Mother Bunch, whom she recognized--for she had toldher, the day before, of Agricola's arrest and Mdlle. de Cardoville'smadness--Florine recoiled a step, so much was she moved with pity at theappearance of the young sempstress. In fact, the idea of being thrownout of work, in the midst of so many other painful circumstances, hadmade a terrible impression upon the young workwoman, the traces ofrecent tears furrowed her cheeks--without her knowing it, her featuresexpressed the deepest despair--and she appeared so exhausted, so weak,so overcome, that Florine offered her arm to support her, and said toher kindly: "Pray walk in and rest yourself; you are very pale, and seemto be ill and fatigued."
So saying, Florine led her into a small room; with fireplace and carpet,and made her sit down in a tapestried armchair by the side of a goodfire. Georgette and Hebe had been dismissed, and Florine was left alonein care of the house.
When her guest was seated, Florine said to her with an air of interest:"Will you not take anything? A little orange flower-water and sugar,warm."
"I thank you, mademoiselle," said Mother Bunch, with emotion, so easilywas her gratitude excited by the least mark of kindness; she felt, too,a pleasing surprise, that her poor garments had not been the cause ofrepugnance or disdain on the part of Florine.
"I thank you, mademoiselle," said she, "but I only require a littlerest, for I come from a great distance. If you will permit me--"
"Pray rest yourself as long as you like, mademoiselle; I am alone inthis pavilion since the departure of my poor mistress,"--here Florineblushed and sighed;--"so, pray make yourself quite at home. Draw nearthe fire--you wilt be more comfortable--and, gracious! how wet your feetare!--place them upon this stool."
The cordial reception given by Florine, her handsome face and agreeablemanners, which were not those of an ordinary waiting-maid, forciblystruck Mother Bunch, who, notwithstanding her humble condition, waspeculiarly susceptible to the influence of everything gracefuland delicate. Yielding, therefore, to these attractions, the youngsempstress, generally so timid and sensitive, felt herself almost at herease with Florine.
"How obliging you are, mademoiselle!" said she in a grateful tone. "I amquite confused with your kindness."
"I wish I could do you some greater service than offer you a place atthe fire, mademoiselle. Your appearance is so good and interesting."
"Oh, mademoiselle!" said the other, with simplicity, almost in spiteof herself; "it does one so much good to sit by a warm fire!" Then,fearing, in her extreme delicacy, that she might be thought capable ofabusing the hospitality of her entertainer, by unreasonably prolongingher visit, she added: "the motive that has brought me here is this.Yesterday, you informed me that a young workman, named Agricola Baudoin,had been arrested in this house."
"Alas! yes, mademoiselle. At the moment, too, when my poor mistress wasabout to render him assistance."
"I am Agricola's adopted sister," resumed Mother Bunch, with a slightblush; "he wrote to me yesterday evening from prison. He begged me totell his father to come here as soon as possible, in order to informMdlle. de Cardoville that he, Agricola, had important matters tocommunicate to her, or to any person that she might send; but that hecould not venture to mention them in a letter, as he did not know ifthe correspondence of prisoners might not be read by the governor of theprison."
"What!" said Florine, with surprise; "to my mistress, M. Agricola hassomething of importance to communicate?"
"Yes, mademoiselle; for, up to this time, Agricola is ignorant of thegreat calamity that has befallen Mdlle. de Cardoville."
"True; the attack was indeed so sudden," said Florine, casting down hereyes, "that no one could have foreseen it."
"It must have been so," answered Mother Bunch; "for, when Agricola sawMdlle. de Cardoville for the first time, he returned home, struck withher grace, and delicacy, and goodness."
"As were all who approached my mistress," said Florine, sorrowfully.
"This morning," resumed the sewing-girl, "when, according to Agricola'sinstructions, I wished to speak to his father on the subject, I foundhim already gone out, for he also is a prey to great anxieties; butmy adopted brother's letter appeared to me so pressing, and to involvesomething of such consequence to Mdlle. de Cardoville, who had shownherself so generous towards him, that I came here immediately."
"Unfortunately, as you already know, my mistress is no longer here."
"But is there no member of her family to whom, if I could not speakmyself, I might at least send word by you, that Agricola has somethingto communicate of importance to this young lady?"
"It is strange!" said Florine, reflecting, and without replying. Then,turning towards the sempstress, she added: "You are quite ignorant ofthe nature of these revelations?"
"Completely so, mademoiselle; but I know Agricola. He is all honor andtruth, and you may believe whatever he affirms. Besides, he would haveno interest--"
"Good gracious!" interrupted Florine, suddenly, as if struck with asadden light; "I have just remembered something. When he was arrestedin a hiding-place where my mistress had concealed him, I happened tobe close at hand, and M. Agricola said to me, in a quick whisper: 'Tellyour generous mistress that her goodness to me will not go unrewarded,and that my stay in that hiding-place may not be useless to her.'That was all he could say to me, for they hurried him off instantly. Iconfess that I saw in those words only the expression of his gratitude,and his hope of proving it one day to my mistress; but now that Iconnect them with the letter he has written you--" said Florine,reflecting.
"Indeed!" remarked Mother Bunch, "there is certainly some connectionbetween his hiding-place here and the important secrets which he wishesto communicate to your mistress, or one of her family."
"The hiding-place had neither been inhabited nor visited for some time,"said Florine, with a thoughtful air; "M. Agricola may have found thereinsomething of interest to my mistress."
"If his letter had not appeared to me so pressing," resumed the other,"I should not have come hither; but have left him to do so himself, onhis release from prison, which now, thanks to the generosity of one ofhis old fellow-workmen, cannot be very distant. But, not knowing ifbail would be accepted to-day, I have wished faithfully to perform hisinstructio
ns. The generous kindness of your mistress made it my firstduty."
Like all persons whose better instincts are still roused from time totime, Florine felt a sort of consolation in doing good whenever shecould with impunity--that is to say, without exposing herself to theinexorable resentments of those on whom she depended. Thanks to MotherBunch, she might now have an opportunity of rendering a great service toher mistress. She knew enough of the Princess de Saint-Dizier's hatredof her niece, to feel certain that Agricola's communication could not,from its very importance, be made with safety to any but Mdlle. deCardoville herself. She therefore said very gravely: "Listen to me,mademoiselle! I will give you a piece of advice which will, I think, beuseful to my poor mistress--but which would be very fatal to me if youdid not attend to my recommendations."
"How so, mademoiselle?" said the hunchback, looking at Florine withextreme surprise.
"For the sake of my mistress, M. Agricola must confide to no one, exceptherself, the important things he has to communicate."
"But, if he cannot see Mdlle. Adrienne, may he not address himself tosome of her family?"
"It is from her family, above all, that he must conceal whatever heknows. Mdlle. Adrienne may recover, and then M. Agricola can speak toher. But should she never get well again, tell your adopted brother thatit is better for him to keep his secret than to place it (which wouldinfallibly happen) at the disposal of the enemies of my mistress."
"I understand you, mademoiselle," said Mother Bunch, sadly. "The familyof your generous mistress do not love her, and perhaps persecute her?"
"I cannot tell you more on this subject now; and, as regards myself, letme conjure you to obtain M. Agricola's promise that he will not mentionto any one in the world the step you have taken, or the advice I havegiven you. The happiness--no, not the happiness," resumed Florinebitterly, as if that were a lost hope, "not the happiness--but the peaceof my life depends upon your discretion."
"Oh! be satisfied!" said the sewing-girl, both affected and amazedby the sorrowful expression of Florine's countenance; "I will not beungrateful. No one in the world but Agricola shall know that I have seenyou."
"Thank you--thank you, mademoiselle," cried Florine, with emotion.
"Do you thank me?" said the other, astonished to see the large tearsroll down her cheeks.
"Yes! I am indebted to you for a moment of pure, unmixed happiness; forI have perhaps rendered a service to my dear mistress, without riskingthe increase of the troubles that already overwhelm me."
"You are not happy, then?"
"That astonishes you; but, believe me, whatever may be, your fate, Iwould gladly change with you."
"Alas, mademoiselle!" said the sempstress: "you appear to have too gooda heart, for me to let you entertain such a wish--particularly now."
"What do you mean?"
"I hope sincerely, mademoiselle," proceeded Mother Bunch, with deepsadness, "that you may never know what it is to want work, when labor isyour only resource."
"Are you reduced to that extremity?" cried Florine, looking anxiouslyat the young sempstress, who hung her head, and made no answer. Shereproached herself, in her excessive delicacy, with having made acommunication which resembled a complaint, though it had only been wrungfrom her by the thought of her dreadful situation.
"If it is so," went on Florine, "I pity you with all my heart; and yet Iknow not, if my misfortunes are not still greater than yours."
Then, after a moment's reflection, Florine exclaimed, suddenly: "But letme see! If you are really in that position, I think I can procure yousome work."
"Is it possible, mademoiselle?" cried Mother Bunch. "I should never havedared to ask you such a service; but your generous offer commands myconfidence, and may save me from destruction. I will confess to you,that, only this morning, I was thrown out of an employment which enabledme to earn four francs a week."
"Four francs a week!" exclaimed Florine, hardly able to believe what sheheard.
"It was little, doubtless," replied the other; "but enough for me.Unfortunately, the person who employed me, has found out where it can bedone still cheaper."
"Four francs a week!" repeated Florine, deeply touched by so much miseryand resignation. "Well! I think I can introduce you to persons, who willsecure you wages of at least two francs a day."
"I could earn two francs a day? Is it possible?"
"Yes, there is no doubt of it; only, you will have to go out by the day,unless you chose to take a pace as servant."
"In my position," said Mother Bunch, with a mixture of timidity andpride, "one has no right, I know, to be overnice; yet I should prefer togo out by the day, and still more to remain at home, if possible, eventhough I were to gain less."
"To go out is unfortunately an indispensable condition," said Florine.
"Then I must renounce this hope," answered Mother Bunch, timidly; "notthat I refuse to go out to work--but those who do so, are expected to bedecently clad--and I confess without shame, because there is no disgracein honest poverty, that I have no better clothes than these."
"If that be all," said Florine, hastily, "they will find you the meansof dressing yourself properly."
Mother Bunch looked at Florine with increasing surprise. These offerswere so much above what she could have hoped, and what indeed wasgenerally earned by needlewomen, that she could hardly credit them.
"But," resumed she, with hesitation, "why should any one be so generousto me, mademoiselle? How should I deserve such high wages?"
Florine started. A natural impulse of the heart, a desire to be usefulto the sempstress, whose mildness and resignation greatly interestedher, had led her to make a hasty proposition; she knew at what pricewould have to be purchased the advantages she proposed, and she nowasked herself, if the hunchback would ever accept them on such terms.But Florine had gone too far to recede, and she durst not tell all. Sheresolved, therefore, to leave the future to chance and as those,who have themselves fallen, are little disposed to believe in theinfallibility of others, Florine said to herself, that perhaps inthe desperate position in which she was, Mother Bunch would not be soscrupulous after all. Therefore she said: "I see, mademoiselle, that youare astonished at offers so much above what you usually gain; but Imust tell you, that I am now speaking of a pious institution, foundedto procure work for deserving young women. This establishment, which iscalled St. Mary's Society, undertakes to place them out as servants,or by the day as needlewomen. Now this institution is managed by suchcharitable persons, that they themselves undertake to supply anoutfit, when the young women, received under their protection are notsufficiently well clothed to accept the places destined for them."
This plausible explanation of Florine's magnificent offers appeared tosatisfy the hearer. "I can now understand the high wages of whichyou speak, mademoiselle," resumed she; "only I have no claim to bepatronized by the charitable persons who direct this establishment."
"You suffer--you are laborious and honest--those are sufficient claims;only, I must tell you, they will ask if you perform regularly yourreligious duties."
"No one loves and blesses God more fervently than I do, mademoiselle,"said the hunchback, with mild firmness; "but certain duties are anaffair of conscience, and I would rather renounce this patronage, thanbe compelled--"
"Not the least in the world. Only, as I told you, there are very piouspersons at the head of this institution, and you must not be astonishedat their questions on such a subject. Make the trial, at all events;what do you risk? If the propositions are suitable--accept them; if, onthe contrary, they should appear to touch your liberty of conscience,you can always refuse--your position will not be the worse for it."
Mother Bunch had nothing to object to this reasoning which left her atperfect freedom, and disarmed her of all suspicion. "On these terms,mademoiselle," said she, "I accept your offer, and thank you with all myheart. But who will introduce me?"
"I will--to-morrow, if you please."
"But they will perhaps des
ire to make some inquiries about me."
"The venerable Mother Sainte-Perpetue, Superior of St, Mary's Convent,where the institution is established, will, I am sure, appreciate yourgood qualities without inquiry; but if otherwise, she will tell you, andyou can easily satisfy her. It is then agreed--to-morrow."
"Shall I call upon you here, mademoiselle?"
"No; as I told you before, they must not know that you came here on thepart of M. Agricola, and a second visit might be discovered, and excitesuspicion. I will come and fetch you in a coach; where do you live?"
"At No. 3, Rue Brise-Miche; as you are pleased to give yourself somuch trouble, mademoiselle, you have only to ask the dyer, who acts asporter, to call down Mother Bunch."
"Mother Bunch?" said Florine, with surprise.
"Yes, mademoiselle," answered the sempstress, with a sad smile; "it isthe name every one gives me. And you see," added the hunchback, unableto restrain a tear, "it is because of my ridiculous infirmity, to whichthis name alludes, that I dread going out to work among strangers,because there are so many people who laugh at one, without knowing thepain they occasion. But," continued she, drying her eyes, "I have nochoice, and must make up my mind to it."
Florine, deeply affected, took the speaker's hand, and said to her: "Donot fear. Misfortunes like yours must inspire compassion, not ridicule.May I not inquire for you by your real name?"
"It is Magdalen Soliveau; but I repeat, mademoiselle, that you hadbetter ask for Mother Bunch, as I am hardly known by any other name."
"I will, then, be in the Rue Brise-Miche to-morrow, at twelve o'clock."
"Oh, mademoiselle! How can I ever requite your goodness?"
"Don't speak of it: I only hope my interference may be of use to you.But of this you must judge for yourself. As for M. Agricola, do notanswer his letter; wait till he is out of prison, and then tell him tokeep his secret till he can see my poor mistress."
"And where is the dear young lady now?"
"I cannot tell you. I do not know where they took her, when she wasattacked with this frenzy. You will expect me to-morrow?"
"Yes--to-morrow," said Mother Bunch.
The convent whither Florine was to conduct the hunchback contained thedaughters of Marshal Simon, and was next door to the lunatic asylum ofDr. Baleinier, in which Adrienne de Cardoville was confined.
