Chapter 48
The bell having rung, Cisy took himself off, to the great delight of Rosanette, who said he had been boring her to death.
The second race had nothing special about it; neither had the third, save that a man was thrown over the shaft of a cart while it was taking place. The fourth, in which eight horses contested the City Stakes, was more interesting.
The spectators in the gallery had clambered to the top of their seats.
The others, standing up in the vehicles, followed with opera-gla.s.ses in their hands the movements of the jockeys. They could be seen starting out like red, yellow, white, or blue spots across the entire s.p.a.ce occupied by the crowd that had gathered around the ring of the hippodrome. At a distance, their speed did not appear to be very great; at the opposite side of the Champ de Mars, they seemed even to be slackening their pace, and to be merely slipping along in such a way that the horses' bellies touched the ground without their outstretched legs bending at all. But, coming back at a more rapid stride, they looked bigger; they cut the air in their wild gallop. The sun's rays quivered; pebbles went flying about under their hoofs. The wind, blowing out the jockeys' jackets, made them flutter like veils. Each of them lashed the animal he rode with great blows of his whip in order to reach the winning-post--that was the goal they aimed at. One swept away the figures, another was hoisted off his saddle, and, in the midst of a burst of applause, the victorious horse dragged his feet to the weighing-room, all covered with sweat, his knees stiffened, his neck and shoulders bent down, while his rider, looking as if he were expiring in his saddle, clung to the animal's flanks.
The final start was r.e.t.a.r.ded by a dispute which had arisen. The crowd, getting tired, began to scatter. Groups of men were chatting at the lower end of each gallery. The talk was of a free-and-easy description.
Some fas.h.i.+onable ladies left, scandalised by seeing fast women in their immediate vicinity.
There were also some specimens of the ladies who appeared at public b.a.l.l.s, some light-comedy actresses of the boulevards, and it was not the best-looking portion of them that got the most appreciation. The elderly Georgine Aubert, she whom a writer of vaudevilles called the Louis XI.
of her profession, horribly painted, and giving vent every now and then to a laugh resembling a grunt, remained reclining at full length in her big calash, covered with a sable fur-tippet, as if it were midwinter.
Madame de Remoussat, who had become fas.h.i.+onable by means of a notorious trial in which she figured, sat enthroned on the seat of a brake in company with some Americans; and Therese Bachelu, with her look of a Gothic virgin, filled with her dozen furbelows the interior of a trap which had, in place of an ap.r.o.n, a flower-stand filled with roses. The Marechale was jealous of these magnificent displays. In order to attract attention, she began to make vehement gestures and to speak in a very loud voice.
Gentlemen recognised her, and bowed to her. She returned their salutations while telling Frederick their names. They were all counts, viscounts, dukes, and marquises, and carried a high head, for in all eyes he could read a certain respect for his good fortune.
Cisy had a no less happy air in the midst of the circle of mature men that surrounded them. Their faces wore cynical smiles above their cravats, as if they were laughing at him. At length he gave a tap in the hand of the oldest of them, and made his way towards the Marechale.
She was eating, with an affectation of gluttony, a slice of _pate de foie gras_. Frederick, in order to make himself agreeable to her, followed her example, with a bottle of wine on his knees.
The four-wheeled cabriolet reappeared. It _was_ Madame Arnoux! Her face was startlingly pale.
"Give me some champagne," said Rosanette.
And, lifting up her gla.s.s, full to the brim as high as possible, she exclaimed:
"Look over there! Look at my protector's wife, one of the virtuous women!"
There was a great burst of laughter all round her; and the cabriolet disappeared from view. Frederick
"Impossible!" she replied; "we're going together to the Cafe Anglais."
Frederick, as if he had heard nothing, remained silent; and Cisy quitted the Marechale with a look of disappointment on his face.
While he had been talking to her at the right-hand door of the carriage, Hussonnet presented himself at the opposite side, and, catching the words "Cafe Anglais":
"It's a nice establishment; suppose we had a pick there, eh?"
"Just as you like," said Frederick, who, sunk down in the corner of the berlin, was gazing at the horizon as the four-wheeled cabriolet vanished from his sight, feeling that an irreparable thing had happened, and that there was an end of his great love. And the other woman was there beside him, the gay and easy love! But, worn out, full of conflicting desires, and no longer even knowing what he wanted, he was possessed by a feeling of infinite sadness, a longing to die.
A great noise of footsteps and of voices made him raise his head. The little ragam.u.f.fins a.s.sembled round the track sprang over the ropes and came to stare at the galleries. Thereupon their occupants rose to go. A few drops of rain began to fall. The crush of vehicles increased, and Hussonnet got lost in it.
"Well! so much the better!" said Frederick.
"We like to be alone better--don't we?" said the Marechale, as she placed her hand in his.
Then there swept past him with a glitter of copper and steel a magnificent landau to which were yoked four horses driven in the Daumont style by two jockeys in velvet vests with gold fringes. Madame Dambreuse was by her husband's side, and Martinon was on the other seat facing them. All three of them gazed at Frederick in astonishment.
"They have recognised me!" said he to himself.
Rosanette wished to stop in order to get a better view of the people driving away from the course. Madame Arnoux might again make her appearance! He called out to the postilion:
"Go on! go on! forward!" And the berlin dashed towards the Champs-elysees in the midst of the other vehicles--calashes, britzkas, wurths, tandems, tilburies, dog-carts, tilted carts with leather curtains, in which workmen in a jovial mood were singing, or one-horse chaises driven by fathers of families. In victorias crammed with people some young fellows seated on the others' feet let their legs both hang down. Large broughams, which had their seats lined with cloth, carried dowagers fast asleep, or else a splendid machine pa.s.sed with a seat as simple and coquettish as a dandy's black coat.
The shower grew heavier. Umbrellas, parasols, and mackintoshes were put into requisition. People cried out at some distance away: "Good-day!"
"Are you quite well?" "Yes!" "No!" "Bye-bye!"--and the faces succeeded each other with the rapidity of Chinese shadows.
Frederick and Rosanette did not say a word to each other, feeling a sort of dizziness at seeing all these wheels continually revolving close to them.
At times, the rows of carriages, too closely pressed together, stopped all at the same time in several lines. Then they remained side by side, and their occupants scanned one another. Over the sides of panels adorned with coats-of-arms indifferent glances were cast on the crowd.
Eyes full of envy gleamed from the interiors of hackney-coaches.
Depreciatory smiles responded to the haughty manner in which some people carried their heads. Mouths gaping wide expressed idiotic admiration; and, here and there, some lounger, in the middle of the road, fell back with a bound, in order to avoid a rider who had been galloping through the midst of the vehicles, and had succeeded in getting away from them.
Then, everything set itself in motion once more; the coachmen let go the reins, and lowered their long whips; the horses, excited, shook their curb-chains, and flung foam around them; and the cruppers and the harness getting moist, were smoking with the watery evaporation, through which struggled the rays of the sinking sun. Pa.s.sing under the Arc de Triomphe, there stretched out at the height of a man, a reddish light, which shed a glittering l.u.s.tre on the naves of the wheels, the handles of the carriage-doors, the ends of the shafts, and the rings of the carriage-beds; and on the two sides of the great avenue--like a river in which manes, garments, and human heads were undulating--the trees, all glittering with rain, rose up like two green walls. The blue of the sky overhead, reappearing in certain places, had the soft hue of satin.
Then, Frederick recalled the days, already far away, when he yearned for the inexpressible happiness of finding himself in one of these carriages by the side of one of these women. He had attained to this bliss, and yet he was not thereby one jot the happier.
The rain had ceased falling. The pedestrians, who had sought shelter between the columns of the Public Storerooms, took their departure.
Persons who had been walking along the Rue Royale, went up again towards the boulevard. In front of the residence of the Minister of Foreign Affairs a group of b.o.o.bies had taken up their posts on the steps.
When it had got up as high as the Chinese Baths, as there were holes in the pavement, the berlin slackened its pace. A man in a hazel-coloured paletot was walking on the edge of the footpath. A splash, spurting out from under the springs, showed itself on his back. The man turned round in a rage. Frederick grew pale; he had recognised Deslauriers.
At the door of the Cafe Anglais he sent away the carriage. Rosanette had gone in before him while he was paying the postilion.
He found her subsequently on the stairs chatting with a gentleman.
Frederick took her arm; but in the lobby a second gentleman stopped her.
"Go on," said she; "I am at your service."
And he entered the private room alone. Through the two open windows people could be seen at the cas.e.m.e.nts of the other houses opposite.
Large watery ma.s.ses were quivering on the pavement as it began to dry, and a magnolia, placed on the side of a balcony, shed a perfume through the apartment. This fragrance and freshness had a relaxing effect on his nerves. He sank down on the red divan underneath the gla.s.s.
The Marechale here entered the room, and, kissing him on the forehead:
"Poor pet! there's something annoying you!"
"Perhaps so," was his reply.
"You are not alone; take heart!"--which was as much as to say: "Let us each forget our own concerns in a bliss which we shall enjoy in common."
Then she placed the petal of a flower between her lips and extended it towards him so that he might peck at it. This movement, full of grace and of almost voluptuous gentleness, had a softening influence on Frederick.
"Why do you give me pain?" said he, thinking of Madame Arnoux.
"I give you pain?"
And, standing before him, she looked at him with her lashes drawn close together and her two hands resting on his shoulders.
All his virtue, all his rancour gave way before the utter weakness of his will.