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Updated: May 22, 2025
Mascarin paid no heed to this, so occupied was he by his own thoughts. "This young artist seems to have more brains than the rest of the set, but woe to him if he crosses my path. Go back to the outer office, Beaumarchef, I hear some clients coming in." The man, however, did not obey. "Pardon me, sir," said he, "but La Candele, who is outside, will see them. I have my report to make." "Very good.
"You have your breakfast and dinner every day regularly." "I know that, and half a bottle of wine at each meal, which has so much water in it that it cannot even stain the tablecloth." "You are an ungrateful young hound," exclaimed Beaumarchef, "and forget that, in addition to this, he has set you up in business as a hot chestnut seller." "Good old business!
"If he is out of breath," remarked he, "it is because he has been endeavoring to repair a great act of carelessness that he has committed. Well, Beaumarchef, how did you get on?" "All right, sir," returned he, with a look of triumph. "Good!" "What are you talking about?" asked the doctor.
"Leave us, Beaumarchef," said the latter, with an imperious wave of his hand; "and now, my dear boy, what is it?" Paul sank into a chair. "My life is ended," said he; "I am lost, dishonored for ever."
"If you are ready," remarked the doctor, "we will make a start." In reply, Mascarin opened the door leading into the office. "Get a cab, Beaumarchef," said he.
"Very well," returned Mascarin, "if this is the case, Master Chupin shall have a taste of prison fare." Beaumarchef withdrew, but almost immediately reappeared. "Sir," said he, "a servant from M. de Croisenois is here with a note." "Send the man in," said Mascarin. The domestic was irreproachably dressed, and looked what he was, the servant of a nobleman.
Do you understand me fully?" Here the speaker was interrupted by the entrance of Beaumarchef, who had signified his desire to come in by three distinct raps upon the door. He was now gorgeous to look upon, for having taken advantage of a spare half hour, he had donned his best clothes. "What is it?" demanded Mascarin. "Here are two letters, sir." "Thank you; hand them to me, and leave us."
He was compelled by his position to sympathize with both sides. The woman had now finished her tirade, and drawing the amount of the fee from a well-filled purse, placed it on the table, saying, "Please, M. Beaumarchef, register my name as Caroline Scheumal, and get me a real good place. It must be a cook, you understand, and I want to do the marketing without the missus dodging around."
Seven francs a day is a sum. Well, I'll give it you myself to-day and will speak about you to the master." "You won't get me to loosen my tongue for that amount to-day; you may bet your boots on that," answered the lad insolently. "I wants one hundred francs down on the nail." "One hundred francs," echoed Beaumarchef, scandalized at such a demand. "Yes, my cove, that and no less."
M. Mascarin uttered an exclamation of delight. "Where is she living now?" Beaumarchef was utterly overwhelmed by this simple question. For the first time in his life he had omitted to take a client's address. This omission made Mascarin so angry that he forgot all his good manners, and broke out with an oath that would have shamed a London cabman, "How could you be such an infernal fool?
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