25Dr. Hortebise's private arrangements were sadly upset by his beingcompelled to accede to the desire of Tantaine and Mascarin, and ingranting hospitality to Paul Violaine; and in spite of the brilliantvisions of the future, he often devoutly wished that Mascarin and hisyoung friend were at the other side of the world; but for all that henever thought of attempting to evade the order he had received. Hetherefore set himself steadily to his task, endeavoring to form Paul'smind, blunt his conscience, and prepare him for the inevitable partthat he would soon have to play.
Paul found in him a most affable companion, pleasant, witty, andgifted with great conversational powers. Five days were thus spentbreakfasting at well-known restaurants, driving in the Bois, anddining at clubs of which the doctor was a member, while the eveningswere passed at the banker's. The doctor played cards with his host,while Paul and Flavia conversed together in low whispers, or else hungover the piano together. But every kind of agreeable existence comesto an end, and one day Daddy Tantaine entered the room, his faceradiant with delight.
"I have secured you the sweetest little nest in the world," cried hemerrily. "It is not so fine as this, but more in accordance with yourposition.""Where is it?" asked Paul.
Tantaine waited. "You won't wear out much shoe leather," said he, "inwalking to a certain banker's, for your lodgings are close to hishouse."That Tantaine had a splendid talent for arrangement Paul realized assoon as he entered his new place of abode, which was in the RueMontmartre, and consisted of some neat, quiet rooms, just such as anartist who had conquered his first difficulties would inhabit. Theapartments were on the third floor, and comprised a tiny entrancehall, sitting-room, bed and dressing room. A piano stood near thewindow in the sitting-room. The furniture and curtains were tastefuland in good order, but nothing was new. One thing surprised Paul verymuch; he had been told that the apartments had been taken andfurnished three days ago, and yet it seemed as if they had beeninhabited for years, and that the owner had merely stepped out a fewminutes before. The unmade bed, and the half-burnt candles in thesleeping-room added to this impression, while on the rug lay a pair ofworn slippers. The fire had not gone out entirely, and a half-smokedcigar lay on the mantelpiece.
On the table in the sitting-room was a sheet of music paper, with afew bars jotted down upon it. Paul felt so convinced that he was inanother person's rooms, that he could not help exclaiming, "But surelysome one has been living in these chambers.""We are in your own home, my dear boy," said Tantaine.
"But you took over everything, I suppose, and the original proprietorsimply walked out?"Tantaine smiled, as though an unequivocal compliment had been paidhim.
"Why, do you not know your own home?" asked he; "you have been livinghere for the last twelve months.""I can't understand you," answered Paul, opening his eyes inastonishment; "you must be jesting.""I am entirely in earnest; for more than a year you have beenestablished here. If you want a proof of the correctness of myassertion, call up the porter." He ran to the head of the staircaseand called out, "Come up, Mother Brigaut."In a few moments a stout old woman came panting into the room.
"And how are you, Mother Brigaut?" said Tantaine gayly. "I have a wordor two to say to you. You know that gentleman, do you not?""What a question? as if I did not know one of the gentlemen lodginghere?""What is his name?""M. Paul.""What, plain M. Paul, and nothing else?""Well, sir, it is not his fault if he did not know his father ormother.""What does he do?""He is a musician; he gives lessons on the piano, and composes music.""Does he do a good business?""I can't say, sir, but I should guess about two or three hundredfrancs a month; and he makes that do, for he is economical and quiet,and as modest as a young girl."Tantaine's face shone all over with satisfaction.
"You must have known M. Paul for some time, as you seem so thoroughlyacquainted with his habits?" said he.
"Well, I ought to, for he has been here nearly fifteen months, and allthat time I have looked after his room.""Do you know where he lived before he came here?""Of course I do, for I went to inquire about him in the Rue Jacob. Thepeople there were quite cut up at his leaving, but you see this wasmore handy for the music publisher in the Rue Richelieu, for whom heworks.""Good, Mother Brigaut; that will do; you can leave us now."As Paul listened to this brief conversation, he wondered if he wasawake or asleep. Tantaine stood at the door and watched the woman downstairs; then he closed it carefully, and coming up to Paul, said,--"Well, what do you think of all this?"At first Paul was so astounded that he could hardly find words inwhich to express himself; but he remembered the words that Dr.
Hortebise had so often dinned into his ears during the last fivedays,--"Let nothing astonish you.""I suppose," said he at last, "that you had taught this old woman herlesson beforehand.""Merciful powers!" exclaimed Tantaine in tones of extreme disgust. "Ifthese are all the ideas you have gained from what you have heard, ourtask will not be by any means an easy one."Paul was wounded by Tantaine's contemptuous manner.
"I understand well enough, sir," answered he sulkily, "that this ismerely a prologue to a romantic drama.""You are right, my lad," cried he, in a more satisfied voice; "and itis one that is quite indispensable. The plot of the drama will berevealed to you later on, and also the reward you will receive if youplay your part well.""But why cannot you tell me everything now?"Tantaine shook his head.
"Have patience, you rash boy!" said he. "Rome was not built in a day.
Be guided by me, and follow blindly the orders of those interested inyou. This is your first lesson; think it over seriously.""My first lesson! What do you mean?""Call it a rehearsal if you like. All that the good woman told you,"continued Tantaine, "you must look upon as true; nay, it is true, andwhen you believe this thoroughly, you are quite prepared for the fray,but until then you must remain quiescent. Remember this, you cannotimpress others unless you firmly believe yourself. The greatestimpostors of all ages have ever been their own dupes."At the word impostor, Paul seemed about to speak, but a wave ofTantaine's hand silenced him.
"You must cast aside your old skin, and enter that of another. PaulViolaine, the natural son of a woman who kept a small drapery shop atPoitiers, Paul Violaine, the youthful lover of Rose, no longer exists.
He died of cold and hunger in a garret in the Hotel de Perou, as M. deLoupins will testify when necessary."The tone in which Tantaine spoke showed his intense earnestness, andwith emphatic gestures he drove each successive idea into Paul'sbrain.
"You will rid yourself of your former recollections as you do of anold coat, which you throw aside, and forget the very existence of. Andnot only that, but you must lose your memory, and that so entirely,that if any one in the street calls out Violaine, you will never evendream of turning round."Paul's brain seemed to tremble beneath the crime that his companionwas teaching him.
"Who am I then?" asked he.
A sardonic smile crossed Tantaine's face.
"You are just what the portress told you, Paul, and nothing more. Yourfirst recollections are of a Foundling Hospital, and you never knewyour parents. You have lived here fifteen months, and before that youresided in the Rue Jacob. The portress knows no more; but if you willcome with me to the Rue Jacob, the people there can tell you moreabout your life when you were a lodger in the house. Perhaps, if youare careful, we may take you back to your more childish days, and evenfind you a father.""But," said Paul, "I might be questioned regarding my past life: whatthen? M. Rigal or Mademoiselle Flavia might interrogate me at anymoment?""I see; but do not disquiet yourself. You will be furnished with allnecessary papers, so that you can account for all your life during thetwenty-five years you spent in this world.""Then I presume that the person into whose shoes I have crept was acomposer and a musician like myself?"Again Tantaine's patience gave way, and it was with an oath that heexclaimed,--"Are you acting the part of a fool, or are you one in reality? No onehas ever been here except you. Did you not hear what the old womansaid? She told you that you are a musician, a self-made one, and whilewaiting until your talents are appreciated, you give lessons inmusic.""And to whom do I /give/ them?"Tantaine took three visiting cards from a china ornament on themantelshelf.
"Here are three pupils of yours," said he, "who can pay you onehundred francs per month for two lessons a week, and two of them willassure you that you have taught them for some time. The third, MadameGrandorge, a widow, will vow that she owes all her success, which isvery great, to your lessons. You will go and give these pupils theirlessons at the hours noted on their cards, and you will be received asif you had often been to the house before; and remember to beperfectly at your ease.""I will do my best to follow your instructions.""One last piece of information. In addition to your lessons, you arein the habit of copying for certain wealthy amateurs the fragments ofold and almost obsolete operas, and on the piano lies the work thatyou are engaged on for the Marquis de Croisenois, a charmingcomposition by Valserra. You see," continued Tantaine, taking Paul bythe arm, and showing him round the room, "that nothing has beenforgotten, and that you have lived here for years past. You havealways been a steady young man, and have saved up a little money. Inthis drawer you will find eight certificates of scrip from the Bank ofFrance."Paul would have put many more questions, but the visitor was alreadyon the threshold, and only paused to add these words,--"I will call here to-morrow with Dr. Hortebise." Then, with a strangesmile playing on his lips, he added, as Mascarin had before, "You willbe a duke yet."The old portress was waiting for Tantaine, and as soon as she saw himcoming down the stairs immersed in deep thought, out she ran towardhim with as much alacrity as her corpulency would admit.
"Did I do it all right?" asked she.
"Hush!" answered he, pushing her quickly into her lodge, the door ofwhich stood open. "Hush! are you mad or drunk, to talk like this, whenyou do not know who is listening?""I hope you were pleased with my success," continued the woman, aghastat his sudden anger.
"You did well--very well; you piled up the evidence perfectly. I shallhave an excellent report to make of you to M. Mascarin.""I am so glad; and now my husband and I are quite safe?"The old man shook his head with an air of doubt.
"Well, I can hardly say that yet; the master's arm is long and strong;but you have numerous enemies. All the servants in the house hate you,and would be glad to see you come to grief.""Is that really so, sir? How can that be, for both I and my husbandhave been very kind to all of them?""Yes, perhaps you have been lately, but how about the times before?
You and your husband both acted very foolishly. Article 386 cannot begot now, and two women can swear that they saw you and your husband,with a bunch of keys in your hand, on the second floor."The fat woman's face turned a sickly yellow, she clasped her hands,and whined in tones of piteous entreaty,--"Don't speak so loud, sir, I beg of you.""You made a terrible mistake in not coming to my master earlier, forthere had been then so much talk that the matter had reached the earsof the police.""But for all that, if M. Mascarin pleased----""He does please, my good woman, and is quite willing to serve you. Iam sure that he will manage to break the inquiry; or if it must go on,he has several witnesses who will depose in your favor; but, you know,he gives nothing for nothing, and must have implicit obedience.""Good, kind man that he is, my husband and I would go through fire andwater for him, while my daughter, Euphenice, would do anything in theworld for him."Tantaine recoiled uneasily, for the old woman's gratitude was sodemonstrative that he feared she was about to embrace him.
"All you have to do is to stick firmly to what you have said aboutPaul," continued he, when he found himself at a safe distance; "and ifever you breathe a word of what you have been doing, he will hand youover to the law, and then take care of Article 386."It was evident that this portion of the Code, that had reference tothe robbery of masters by servants, struck terror into the woman'ssoul.
"If I stood on the scaffold," said she, "I would tell the story aboutM. Paul exactly as I have been taught."Her tone was so sincere, that Tantaine addressed her in a kindliervoice.
"Stick to that," said he, "and I can say to you, 'Hope.' Upon the dayon which the young man's business is settled you will get a paper fromme, which will prove your complete innocence, and enable you to say,'I have been grossly maligned.' ""May the dear young man's business be settled sharp," said she.
"It will not be long before it is so; but, remember, in the meantimeyou must keep an eye upon him.""I will do so.""And, remember, report to me whoever comes to see him, no matter whoit may be.""Not a soul can go upstairs without my seeing or hearing him.""Well, if any one, save the master, Dr. Hortebise, or myself comes, donot lose a moment, but come and report.""You shall know in five minutes.""I wonder if that is all I have to say?" mused Tantaine. "Ah! Iremember: note exactly the hour at which this young man comes andgoes. Do not have any conversation with him; answer all questions headdresses you with a simple 'Yes,' or 'No,' and, as I said before,watch his every movement."And Tantaine turned to go away, paying no attention to the woman'seager protestations.
"Keep a strict watch," were his last words, "and, above all, see thatthe lad gets into no scrape."In Tantaine's presence Paul had endeavored to assume an air ofbravado, but as soon as he was left alone he was seized with suchmortal terror, that he sank in a half fainting condition into an easy-chair. He felt that he was not going to put on a disguise for a briefperiod, but for life, and that now, though he rose in life, wealth,title, even a wife would all have been obtained by a shameful andskilfully planned deception, and this deception he must keep up untilthe day of his death. He shuddered as he recalled Tantaine's words,"Paul Violaine is dead." He recalled the incidents in the life of theescaped galley-slave Coignard, who, under the name of Pontis de St.
Helene, absolutely assumed the rank of a general officer, and tookcommand of a domain. Coignard was recognized and betrayed by an oldfellow-prisoner, and this was exactly the risk that Paul knew he mustrun, for any of his old companions might recognize and denounce him.
Had he on such an occasion sufficient presence of mind to turnlaughingly to his accuser, and say, "Really, my good fellow, you arein error, for I never set eyes on you before?"He felt that he could not do it, and had he any means of existence, hewould have solved the difficulty by taking to flight. But he knew thatmen like Mascarin, Hortebise, and Tantaine were not easily eluded, andhis heart sank within him as he remembered the various crumbs ofinformation that each of these men had dropped before him. To agree totheir sordid proposals, and to remain in the position in which he was,was certainly to incur a risk, but it was one that was a long way off,and might never eventually come to pass; while to change his mindwould be as sure to bring down swift and condign punishment upon hishead; and the weak young man naturally chose the more remotecontingency, and with this determination the last qualms of hisconscience expired.
The first night he slept badly in his new abode, for it seemed to himas if the spectre of the man whose place he was to usurp was hoveringover his couch. But with the dawn of day, and especially when the hourarrived for him to go out and give his lessons, he felt his couragereturn to him, though rashness perhaps would be the more correct word.
And with a mien of perfect confidence he repaired to the house ofMademoiselle Grandorge, the oldest of his pupils. Impelled by the samefeeling of curiosity as to how Paul would comport himself, both Dr.
Hortebise and Father Tantaine had been hanging about the RueMontmartre, and taking advantage of a heavy dray that was passing,caught a good glimpse of the young man.
"Aha," chuckled Tantaine, delighted at seeing Paul look so brisk andjoyous, "our young cock is in full feather; last night he wasdecidedly rather nervous.""Yes," answered the doctor, "he is on the right road, and I think thatwe shall have no further trouble with him."They then thought it would be as well to see Mother Brigaut, and werereceived by the old woman with slavish deference.
"No one has been near the dear young gentleman," said she, in reply totheir questions. "Last night he came down about seven o'clock, andasked where the nearest eating-house was. I directed him to Du Val's,and he was bac............