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The bourgeois Momus appears, followed by his revellers. Laughs ring loudly; all present surrender to the amusement of the moment, knowing that on the morrow toil will resume its sway. Matifat danced with a woman's bonnet on his head; Celestin called the figures of the interminable country dance, and some of the women beat their hands together excitedly at the words of command.
When he got back to the shop, he saw, not without a shudder, that Constance was sitting in her old place behind the counter, examining the expense account, and no doubt counting up the money in the desk. "How will you meet your payments to-morrow?" she whispered as he sat down beside her. "With money," he answered, pulling out the bank-bills, and signing to Celestin to take them.
Celestin Crevel was quite amiable; he was perhaps rather too much the ex-perfumer, but as a Major he was beginning to acquire majestic dignity. He talked of dancing at the wedding. "Fair lady," said he politely to the Baroness, "people like us know how to forget. Do not banish me from your home; honor me, pray, by gracing my house with your presence now and then to meet your children.
Is that you, Celestin?" And Celestin Maloisel answered: "Yes, it's me, Toine. Are you getting about again yet, old fellow?" "Not exactly getting about," answered Toine. "But I haven't grown thin; my carcass is still good." Soon he got into the way of asking his intimates into his room to keep him company, although it grieved him to see that they had to drink without him.
D'Artagnan started as if he had received a charge of small shot in his legs, and then turning suddenly round as if he were going back the same way he had come, he murmured, "Madame de Chevreuse!" D'Artagnan would not go home until he had learnt everything. He asked Celestin to inquire of the grave-digger whose body it was they had buried that morning.
"Then do you know whether Célestin Duclos is still on her?" He was astonished, uneasy, and wished, before answering, to learn something further. "Do you know him?" She became distrustful in turn. "Oh! 'tis not myself 'tis a woman who is acquainted with him." "A woman from this place?" "No, from a place not far off." "In the street?" "What sort of a woman?"
Then he said he was tired, and straggled out on a sofa and blinked at the ceiling, whilst Cospatric and I wallowed in Cambridge shop again. It's extraordinary how men do like to talk over the follies of those old times. And afterwards Celestin indulged us in dinner, a regular epicurean feast, washed down with decent wine, a thing worth much fine gold after a month and a half in Norway.
Birotteau, who had stripped himself of ready money when he put his current cash into Roguin's hands two weeks earlier, called to Celestin to make out an order for two thousand francs at ninety days' sight, and to write the form of a receipt. "I am very glad you took part of your neighbor's rental on yourself," said Molineux in a sly, half-sneering tone.
"Celestin has already sold fifty to passers-by, and sixty to regular customers." "Ah!" exclaimed Cesar. The poor man, bewildered by the clash of bells which misery jangles in the ears of its victims, lived and moved in a dazed condition.
A few oats and a good bed nothing more." "Some bran and water for my horse," said Porthos, "for it is very warm, I think." "Don't be afraid, gentlemen," replied Planchet; "Daddy Celestin is an old gendarme, who fought at Ivry. He knows all about horses; so come into the house."
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