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They laid that with the rest to the account of Scaramouche, and were forced in bitterness to admit that the scoundrel had taken a superlative revenge.
"Well, I can't help it, young gen'lemen. I'm 'bliged to go there, and nothing I can do's good enough for her. If I give her anything, she chucks it at me, because it aren't good enough." "I should think not, indeed," said Mercer. "What decent girl's going to listen to such a ragged scaramouche as you are?" "Well, I can't help it, young gen'lemen." "Yes, you can.
"Name of a pig!" said Leandre. "How can you take your ease and smoke at such a time?" Scaramouche surveyed the sky. "I do not find it too cold," said he. "The sun is shining. I am very well here." "Do I talk of the weather?" Leandre was very excited. "Of what, then?" "Of Climene, of course." "Oh! The lady has ceased to interest me," he lied.
Instead of a terrifying undertaking in itself, it became merely a rehearsal for something greater. In his momentary exaltation Binet proposed another bottle of Volnay. Scaramouche waited until the cork was drawn before he continued. "The thing remains possible," said he then, holding his glass to the light, and speaking casually, "as long as I am with you." "Agreed, my dear Scaramouche, agreed.
"Mon Dieu!" laughed Rhodomont, recovering from the real scare that had succeeded his histrionic terror, "but you have a great trick of tickling them in the right place, Scaramouche." Scaramouche looked up at him and smiled. "It can be useful upon occasion," said he, and went off to his dressing-room to change. But a reprimand awaited him.
"It was your friend Scaramouche set them the example of that. He threatened my life actually. Threatened my life! Called me... Oh, but what does that matter? What matters is that the next thing to happen to us will be that the Binet Troupe will discover it can manage without M. Binet and his daughter. This scoundrelly bastard I've befriended has little by little robbed me of everything.
Get up, man." He caught him under the armpits and hauled him up. Scaramouche came howling to one foot; the other doubled under him when he attempted to set it down, and he must have collapsed again but that Binet supported him. He filled the place with his plaint, whilst Binet swore amazingly and variedly. "Must you bellow like a calf, you fool? Be quiet. A chair here, some one."
"Not if I know Polichinelle. You have..." "I am not thinking of Polichinelle." "Of whom, then?" "Of yourself." "I am flattered, sir. And in what capacity are you thinking of me?" There was something too sleek and oily in Binet's voice for Andre-Louis' taste. "I am thinking of you in the part of Scaramouche." "Day-dreams," said Andre-Louis. "You are amusing yourself, of course." "Not in the least.
The gentlemen who had followed Binet in that punitive rush upon the stage, partly held in check by the improvised weapons of the players, partly intimidated by the second pistol that Scaramouche presented, let him go. He gained the wings, and here found himself faced by a couple of sergeants of the watch, part of the police that was already invading the theatre with a view to restoring order.
But consider that you will just as definitely be deprived of my services, and that without me you are nothing as you were before I joined your company." M. Binet did not care what the consequences might be. A fig for the consequences! He would teach this impudent young country attorney that M. Binet was not the man to be imposed upon. Scaramouche rose.
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