Carabine, now become almost a necessity for the banker du Tillet, deputy of the Left, lived in a charming house in the rue Saint-Georges. In Paris there are many houses the destination of which never varies; and the one we now speak of had already seen seven careers of courtesans. A broker had brought there, about the year 1827, Suzanne du Val-Noble, afterwards Madame Gaillard. In that house the famous Esther caused the Baron de Nucingen to commit the only follies of his life. Florine, and subsequently, a person now called in jest "the late Madame Schontz," had scintillated there in turn. Bored by his wife, du Tillet bought this modern little house, and there installed the celebrated Carabine, whose lively wit and cavalier manners and shameless brilliancy were a counterpoise to the dulness of domestic life, and the toils of finance and politics.
Whether du Tillet or Carabine were at home or not at home, supper was served, and splendidly served, for ten persons every day. Artists, men of letters, journalists, and the habitues of the house supped there when they pleased. After supper they gambled. More than one member of both Chambers came there to buy what Paris pays for by its weight in gold,--namely, the amusement of intercourse with anomalous untrammelled women, those meteors of the Parisian firmament who are so difficult to class. There wit reigns; for all can be said, and all is said. Carabine, a rival of the no less celebrated Malaga, had finally inherited the salon of Florine, now Madame Raoul Nathan, and of Madame Schontz, now wife of Chief-Justice du Ronceret.
As he entered, Gazonal made one remark only, but that remark was both legitimate and legitimist: "It is finer than the Tuileries!" The satins, velvets, brocades, the gold, the objects of art that swarmed there, so filled the eyes of the wary provincial that at first he did not see Madame Jenny Cadine, in a toilet intended to inspire respect, who, concealed behind Carabine, watched his entrance observingly, while conversing with others.
"My dear child," said Leon to Carabine, "this is my cousin, a manufacturer, who descended upon me from the Pyrenees this morning. He knows nothing of Paris, and he wants Massol to help him in a suit he has before the Council of State. We have therefore taken the liberty to bring him--his name is Gazonal--to supper, entreating you to leave him his full senses."
"That's as monsieur pleases; wine is dear," said Carabine, looking Gazonal over from head to foot, and thinking him in no way remarkable.
Gazonal, bewildered by the toilets, the lights, the gilding, the chatter of the various groups whom he thought to be discussing him, could only manage to stammer out the words: "Madame--madame--is--very good."
"What do you manufacture?" said the mistress of the house, laughing.
"Say laces and offer her some guipure," whispered Bixiou in Gazonal's ear.
"La-ces," said Gazonal, perceiving that he would have to pay for his supper. "It will give me the greatest pleasure to offer you a dress--a scarf--a mantilla of my make."
"Ah, three things! Well, you are nicer than you look to be," returned Carabine.
"Paris has caught me!" thought Gazonal, now perceiving Jenny Cadine, and going up to her.
"And I," said the actress, "what am I to have?"
"All I possess," replied Gazonal, thinking that to offer all was to give nothing.
Massol, Claude Vignon, du Tillet, Maxime de Trailles, Nucingen, du Bruel, Malaga, Monsieur and Madame Gaillard, Vauvinet, and a crowd of other personages now entered.
After a conversation with the manufacturer on the subject of his suit, Massol, without making any promises, told him that the report was not yet written, and that citizens could always rely on the knowledge and the independence of the Council of State. Receiving that cold and dignified response, Gazonal, in despair, thought it necessary to set about seducing the charming Jenny, with whom he was by this time in love. Leon de Lora and Bixiou left their victim in the hands of that most roguish and frolicsome member of the anomalous society,--for Jenny Cadine is the sole rival in that respect of the famous Dejazet.
At the supper-table, where Gazonal was fascinated by a silver service made by the modern Benvenuto Cellini, Froment-Meurice, the contents of which were worthy of the container, his mischievous friends were careful to sit at some distance from him; but they followed with cautious eye the manoeuvres of the clever actress, who, being attracted by the insidious hope of getting her furniture renewed, was playing her cards to take the provincial home with her. No sheep upon the day of the Fete-Dieu ever more meekly allowed his little Saint John to lead him along than Gazonal as he followed his siren.
Three days later, Leon and Bixiou, who had not seen Gazonal since that evening, went to his lodgings about two in the afternoon.
"Well, cousin," said Leon, "the Council of State has decided in favour of your suit."
"Maybe, but it is useless now, cousin," said Gazonal, lifting a melancholy eye to his two friends. "I've become a republican."
"What does that mean?" asked Leon.
"I haven't anything left; not even enough to pay my lawyer," replied Gazonal. "Madame Jenny Cadine has got notes of hand out of me to the amount of more money than all the property I own--"
"The fact is Cadine is rather dear; but--"
"Oh, but I didn't get anything for my money," said Gazonal. "What a woman! Well, I'll own the provinces are not a match for Paris; I shall retire to La Trappe."
"Good!" said Bixiou, "now you are reasonable. Come, recognize the majesty of the capital."
"And of capital," added Leon, holding out to Gazonal his notes of hand.
Gazonal gazed at the papers with a stupefied air.
"You can't say now that we don't understand the duties of hospitality; haven't we educated you, saved you from poverty, feasted you, and amused you?" said Bixiou.
"AND fooled you," added Leon, making the gesture of gamins to express the action of picking pockets.