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Updated: May 19, 2025
But his fears were soon allayed; Colonel Tudesco was only a wind-bag, and could not really arrest people. Besides, was it credible that Bargemont, head of a Ministerial Department, was still in Paris? And after all, if he did come to harm, well, so much the worse for him! Two days after a cab with a musket barrel protruding from either window stopped before the bookbinder's shop.
Perhaps it is a poor young fellow dying of hunger. When you're brought down to rations of bread and horseflesh " Then she looked more carefully under frowning brows, and muttered: "It's very queer, it's really very queer!" "Do you know him?" asked Bargemont. "I am trying to remember "
Monsieur Bargemont reappeared: "It's very curious," he said, "but I can't make Rosalie hear." The actress shrugged her shoulders. "Look here, go away, will you? I have a horrid headache. Go away, Bargemont." She was Bargemont's mistress! The thought was torture to Jean Servien, the more atrocious from the unexpectedness of the discovery.
But Bargemont and his pot of butter!... Never to possess the most adorable of women, never to see her more, he was quite willing for the sacrifice still, but to know her in the arms of that coarse brute staggered the mind and rendered life impossible. Absorbed in such thoughts, he found his way back instinctively to his own quarter of the city.
Monsieur Bargemont with the candle leant over Jean Servien, who, opening his eyes for the second time, saw the man's coarse red cheek within an inch of the actress's delicate ear. He gave a great cry and a convulsive spasm shook his body. "Perhaps it is an epileptic fit," said Monsieur Bargemont, coughing; he was catching cold standing on the staircase.
Jean Servien had now come up with him and stood beside him under the archway. It was the same door he had kissed one night of desperation, Gabrielle's door. It opened; Jean took a step forward and Monsieur Bargemont, going in first, left it open, thinking the National Guard there was a tenant going home to his lodging. Jean slipped in and climbed two flights of the dark staircase.
Respectable citizens lined the sidewalks, staring in wonder, and saying nothing; but one of them, a stout, tall, red-faced man, waved his hat and shouted: "To Berlin! long live the Emperor!" Jean recognized Monsieur Bargemont. On top of the ramparts. Bivouac huts and stacked rifles guarded by a sentinel. National Guards are playing shove ha'-penny.
Monsieur Bargemont was left alone to digest his stupefaction; even so his first thought was to save the honour of his Department. He reopened the door and shouted, "Leave the room!" after Jean, who, mastered once more by his natural timidity, was flying like a thief down the corridors.
The first steps will be uphill work; Monsieur Bargemont said so. The State services are overcrowded; there are over many graduates though it is well enough to be one. Besides, I shall be at your back; I will help you, I will work for you; I have a pair of stout arms still. You shall have pocket-money, never fear; you will want it among the folks you will live with. We will save and pinch.
Monsieur Bargemont ascended to the third floor and rang at a door on the landing, which was opened. Jean could hear Gabrielle's voice saying: "How late you are coming home, dear; I have sent Rosalie to bed; I was waiting up for you, you see." The man replied, still puffing and panting with his exertions: "Just fancy, they wanted to pitch me into the river, those scoundrels!
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