FURTHER INVESTIGATIONS
Godefroid now went to the rue d'Enfer, the address given him by Monsieur Alain, and there found Dr.Berton, a cold, grave man, who astonished him much by confirming all the details given by Monsieur Bernard about his daughter's illness.From him Godefroid obtained the address of Halpersohn.
This Polish doctor, since so celebrated, then lived in Chaillot, rue Marbeuf, in an isolated house where he occupied the first floor.
General Romanus Zarnowski lived on the second floor, and the servants of the two refugees inhabited the garret of this little house, which had but two stories.Godefroid did not find Halpersohn, and was told that he had gone into the provinces, sent for by a rich patient; he was almost glad not to meet him, for in his hurry he had forgotten to supply himself with money; and he now went back to the hotel de la Chanterie to get some.
These various trips and the time consumed in dining at a restaurant in the rue de l'Odeon brought Godefroid to the hour when he said he would return and take possession of his lodging on the boulevard du Mont-Parnasse.Nothing could be more forlorn than the manner in which Madame Vauthier had furnished the two rooms.It seemed as though the woman let rooms with the express purpose that no one should stay in them.Evidently the bed, chairs, tables, bureau, secretary, curtains, came from forced sales at auction, articles massed together in lots as having no separate intrinsic value.
Madame Vauthier, with her hands on her hips, stood waiting for thanks;she took Godefroid's smile for one of surprise.
"There! I picked out for you the very best we have, my dear Monsieur Godefroid," she said with a triumphant air."See those pretty silk curtains, and the mahogany bedstead which hasn't got a worm-hole in it! It formerly belonged to the Prince of Wissembourg.When he left his house, rue Louis-le-Grand, in 1809, I was the kitchen-girl.From there, I went to live as cook with the present owner of this house."Godefroid stopped the flux of confidences by paying a month's rent in advance; and he also gave, in advance, the six francs he was to pay Madame Vauthier for the care of his rooms.At that moment he heard barking, and if he had not been duly warned by Monsieur Bernard, he would certainly have supposed that his neighbor kept a dog.
"Does that dog bark at night?" he asked.
"Oh! don't be uneasy, monsieur; you'll only have one week to stand those persons.Monsieur Bernard can't pay his rent and we are going to put him out.They are queer people, I tell you! I have never seen their dog.That animal is sometimes months, yes, six months at a time without making a sound; you might think they hadn't a dog.The beast never leaves the lady's room.There's a sick lady in there, and very sick, too; she's never been out of her room since she came.Old Monsieur Bernard works hard, and the son, too; the lad is a day-scholar at the school of Louis-le-Grand, where he is nearly through his philosophy course, and only sixteen, too; that's something to boast of! but the little scamp has to work like one possessed.
Presently you'll hear them bring out the plants they keep in the lady's room and carry in fresh ones.They themselves, the grandfather and the boy, only eat bread, though they buy flowers and all sorts of dainties for the lady.She must be very ill, not to leave her room once since entering it; and if one's to believe Monsieur Berton, the doctor, she'll never come out except feet foremost.""What does this Monsieur Bernard do?"
"It seems he's a learned man; he writes and goes about to libraries.
Monsieur lends him money on his compositions.""Monsieur? who is he?"
"The proprietor of the house, Monsieur Barbet, the old bookseller.He is a Norman who used to sell green stuff in the streets, and afterwards set up a bookstall, in 1818, on the quay.Then he got a little shop, and now he is very rich.He is a kind of a Jew, with a score of trades; he was even a partner with the Italian who built this barrack to lodge silk-worms.""So this house is a refuge for unfortunate authors?" said Godefroid.
"Is monsieur unluckily one himself?" asked the widow Vauthier.
"I am only just starting," replied Godefroid.
"Oh! my dear monsieur, take my advice and don't go on; journalist?
well,--I won't say anything against that."Godefroid could not help laughing as he bade good-night to the portress, who thus, all unconsciously, represented the bourgeoisie.As he went to bed in the horrible room, floored with bricks that were not even colored, and hung with a paper at seven sous a roll, Godefroid not only regretted his little rooms in the rue Chanoinesse, but also the society of Madame de la Chanterie.He felt a void in his soul.He had already acquired habits of mind; and could not remember to have so keenly regretted anything in all his former life as this break in his new existence.These thoughts, as they pressed upon him, had a great effect upon his soul; he felt that no life could compare in value with the one he sought to embrace, and his resolution to emulate the good old Alain became unshakable.Without having any vocation for the work, he had the will to do it.
