The Queen's Necklace, Alexandre Dumas père [best love story novels in english TXT] 📗

/> "Madame came in a coach?"

"Yes."

"From the Rue Dauphine?"

"Yes."

"I will take madame home."

"Do so, then," said she, although somewhat surprised at the offer.

The man made a sign, and a carriage drove up. He opened the door for her, and then said to the coachman, "To the Rue Dauphine." They set off, and the young woman, who much approved of this mode of transit, regretted she had not further to go. They soon stopped, however; the footman handed her out, and immediately drove off again.

"Really," said she to herself, "this is an agreeable adventure; it is very gallant of M. Mesmer. Oh, I am very tired, and he must have foreseen that. He is a great doctor."

Saying these words, she mounted to the second story, and knocked at a door, which was quickly opened by an old woman.

"Is supper ready, mother?"

"Yes, and growing cold."

"Has he come?"

"No, not yet, but the gentleman has."

"What gentleman?"

"He who was to speak to you this evening."

"To me?"

"Yes."

This colloquy took place in a kind of ante-chamber opening into her room, which was furnished with old curtains of yellow silk, chairs of green Utrecht velvet, not very new, and an old yellow sofa.

She opened the door, and, going in, saw a man seated on the sofa whom she did not know in the least, although we do, for it was the same man whom we have seen taking so much interest in her at Mesmer's.

She had not time to question him, for he began immediately: "I know all that you are going to ask, and will tell you without asking. You are Mademoiselle Oliva, are you not?"

"Yes, sir."

"A charming person, highly nervous, and much taken by the system of M. Mesmer."

"I have just left there."

"All this, however, your beautiful eyes are saying plainly, does not explain what brings me here."

"You are right, sir."

"Will you not do me the favor to sit down, or I shall be obliged to get up also, and that is an uncomfortable way of talking."

"Really, sir, you have very extraordinary manners."

"Mademoiselle, I saw you just now at M. Mesmer's, and found you to be all I could wish."

"Sir!"

"Do not alarm yourself, mademoiselle. I do not tell you that I found you charming--that would seem like a declaration of love, and I have no such intention. I know that you are accustomed to have yourself called beautiful, but I, who also think so, have other things to talk to you about."

"Really, sir, the manner in which you speak to me----"

"Do not get angry before you have heard me. Is there any one that can overhear us?"

"No, sir, no one. But still----"

"Then, if no one can hear, we can converse at our ease. What do you say to a little partnership between us?"

"Really, sir----"

"Do not misunderstand; I do not say 'liaison'--I say partnership; I am not talking of love, but of business."

"What kind of business?" said Oliva, with growing curiosity.

"What do you do all day?"

"Why, I do nothing, or, at least, as little as possible."

"You have no occupation--so much the better. Do you like walking?"

"Very much."

"To see sights, and go to balls?"

"Excessively."

"To live well?"

"Above all things."

"If I gave you twenty-five louis a month, would you refuse me?"

"Sir!"

"My dear Mademoiselle Oliva, now you are beginning to doubt me again, and it was agreed that you were to listen quietly. I will say fifty louis if you like."

"I like fifty louis better than twenty-five, but what I like better than either is to be able to choose my own lover."

"Morbleu! but I have already told you that I do not desire to be your lover. Set your mind at ease about that."

"Then what am I to do to earn my fifty louis?"

"You must receive me at your house, and always be glad to see me. Walk out with me whenever I desire it, and come to me whenever I send for you."

"But I have a lover, sir."

"Well, dismiss him."

"Oh, Beausire cannot be sent away like that!"

"I will help you."

"No; I love him."

"Oh!"

"A little."

"That is just a little too much."

"I cannot help it."

"Then he may stop."

"You are very obliging."

"Well--but do my conditions suit you?"

"Yes, if you have told me all."

"I believe I have said all I wish to say now."

"On your honor?"

"On my honor."

"Very well."

"Then that is settled; and here is the first month in advance."

He held out the money, and, as she still seemed to hesitate a little, slipped it himself into her pocket.

Scarcely had he done so, when a knock at the door made Oliva run to the window. "Good God!" she cried; "escape quickly; here he is!"

"Who?"

"Beausire, my lover. Be quick, sir!"

"Nonsense!"

"He will half murder you."

"Bah!"

"Do you hear how he knocks?"

"Well, open the door." And he sat down again on the sofa, saying to himself, "I must see this fellow, and judge what he is like."

The knocks became louder, and mingled with oaths.

"Go, mother, and open the door," cried Oliva. "As for you, sir, if any harm happens to you, it is your own fault."


CHAPTER XIX.

MONSIEUR BEAUSIRE.

Oliva ran to meet a man, who came in swearing furiously, and in a frightful passion.

"Come, Beausire," said she, apparently not at all frightened.

"Let me alone!" cried he, shaking her off brutally. "Ah! I see, it was because there is a man here that the door was not opened!" And as the visitor remained perfectly still, he advanced furiously towards him, saying, "Will you answer me, sir?"

"What do you want to know, my dear M. Beausire?"

"What are you doing here, and who are you?"

"I am a very quiet man, and I was simply talking to madame."

"That was all," said Oliva.

"Will you hold your tongue?" bawled Beausire.

"Now," said the visitor, "do not be so rude to madame, who has done nothing to deserve it; and if you are in a bad temper----"

"Yes, I am."

"He must have lost at cards," murmured Oliva.

"I am cleaned out, mort de diable!" cried Beausire. "But you, sir, will do me the favor to leave this room."

"But, M. Beausire----"

"Diable! if you do not go immediately it will be the worse for you."

"You did not tell me, mademoiselle, that he was troubled with these fits. Good heavens! what ferocity!"

Beausire, exasperated, drew his sword, and roared, "If you do not move, I will pin you to the sofa!"

"Really, it is impossible to be more disagreeable," said the visitor, also drawing a small sword, which they had not before seen.

Oliva uttered piercing shrieks.

"Oh, mademoiselle, pray be quiet," said he, "or two things will happen: first, you will stun M. Beausire, and he will get killed; secondly, the watch will come up and carry you straight off to St. Lazare."

Oliva ceased her cries.

The scene that ensued was curious. Beausire, furious with rage, was making wild and unskilful passes at his adversary, who, still seated on the sofa, parried them with the utmost ease, laughing immoderately all the time.

Beausire began to grow tired and also frightened, for he felt that if this man, who was now content to stand on the defensive, were to attack him in his turn, he should be done for in a moment. Suddenly, however, by a skilful movement, the stranger sent Beausire's sword flying across the room; it went through an open window, and fell into the street.

"Oh, M. Beausire," said he, "you should take more care; if your sword falls on any one, it will kill him."

Beausire ran down at his utmost speed to fetch his sword, and meanwhile, Oliva, seizing the hand of the victor, said:

"Oh, sir, you are very brave; but as soon as you are gone, Beausire will beat me."

"Then I will remain."

"Oh, no; when he beats me, I beat him in return, and I always get the best of it, because I am not obliged to take any care; so if you would but go, sir----"

"But, my dear, if I go now, I shall meet M. Beausire on the stairs; probably the combat will recommence, and as I shall not feel inclined to stand on the staircase, I shall have to kill M. Beausire."

"Mon Dieu! it is true."

"Well, then, to avoid that I will remain here."

"No, sir, I entreat; go up to the next story, and as soon as he returns to this room I will lock the door and take the key, and you can walk away while we fight it out."

"You are a charming girl. Au revoir!"

"Till when?"

"To-night, if you please."

"To-night! are you mad?"

"Not at all; but there is a ball at the Opera to-night."

"But it is now midnight."

"That does not matter."

"I should want a domino."

"Beausire will fetch it when you have beaten him."

"You are right," said Oliva, laughing.

"And here are ten louis to buy it with."

"Adieu! and thanks." And she pushed him out, saying, "Quick! he is coming back."

"But if by chance he should beat you, how will you let me know?"

She reflected a moment. "You have a servant?"

"Yes."

"Send him here, and let him wait under the window till I let a note fall."

"I will. Adieu!" And he went up-stairs.

Oliva drowned the sound of his footsteps by calling loudly to Beausire, "Are you coming back, madman?" for he did not seem in much hurry to reencounter his formidable adversary. At last, however, he came up. Oliva was standing outside the door; she pushed him in, locked it, and put the key in her pocket.

Before the stranger left the house, he heard the noise of the combat begin, and both voices loud and furious. "There is no doubt," said he to himself, "that this woman knows how to take care of herself." His carriage was waiting for him at the corner of the street, but before getting in he spoke to the footman, who thereupon stationed himself within view of Mademoiselle Oliva's windows.


CHAPTER XX.

GOLD.

We must now return to the interior of the room. Beausire was much surprised to see Oliva lock the door, and still more so not to see his adversary. He began to feel triumphant, for if he was hiding from him he must, he thought, be afraid of him. He therefore began to search for him; but Oliva talked so loud and fast that he advanced towards her to try and stop her, but was received with a box on the ear, which he returned in kind. Oliva replied by throwing a china vase at his head, and his answer was a blow with a cane. She, furious, flew at him and seized him by the