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The Adventures of a Modest Man

Page 28

by Robert W. Chambers


  CHAPTER XXV

  THE ARMY OF PARIS

  I was smoking peacefully in the conservatory of the hotel, when abellboy brought me the card of Captain le Vicomte de Cluny.

  In due time Monsieur the Viscount himself appeared, elegant, graceful,smart; black and scarlet uniform glittering with triple-gold arabesqueson sleeve and Kepi, spurs chiming with every step.

  We chatted amiably for a few moments; then the Captain, standing veryerect and stiff, made me a beautiful bow and delivered the followingremarkable question:

  "Monsieur Van Twillaire, I am come to-day according to the Americancustom, to beg your permission to pay my addresses to mademoiselle,your daughter."

  I inhaled the smoke of my cigarette in my astonishment. That was bad forme. After a silence I asked:

  "Which daughter?"

  "Mademoiselle Dulcima, monsieur."

  After another silence I said:

  "I will give you an answer to-morrow at this hour."

  We bowed to each other, solemnly shook hands, and parted.

  I was smoking restlessly in the conservatory of the hotel when a bellboybrought me the card of Captain le Vicomte de Barsac.

  In due time the Vicomte himself appeared, elegant, graceful, smart;black, scarlet, and white uniform glittering with triple-gold arabesqueson sleeve and Kepi, spurs chiming with every step.

  We chatted amiably for a few moments; then the Captain, standing veryerect and stiff, made me a beautiful bow and delivered the followingremarkable question:

  "Monsieur Van Twillaire, I am come to-day according to the Americancustom, to beg your permission to pay my addresses to mademoiselle, yourdaughter."

  I dropped my cigarette into the empty fireplace.

  "Which daughter?" I asked, coldly.

  "Mademoiselle Dulcima, monsieur."

  After a silence I said:

  "I will give you an answer to-morrow at this hour."

  We bowed to each other, solemnly shook hands, and parted.

  I was smoking violently in the conservatory of the hotel, when a bellboybrought me a card of my old friend, Gillian Van Dieman.

  In due time Van Dieman appeared, radiant, smiling, faultlessly groomed.

  "Well," said I, "it's about time you came over from Long Island, isn'tit? My daughters expected you last week."

  "I know," he said, smiling; "I couldn't get away, Peter. Didn't Alidaexplain?"

  "Explain what?" I asked.

  "About our engagement."

  In my amazement I swallowed some smoke that was not wholesome for me.

  "Didn't she tell you she is engaged to marry me?" he asked, laughing.

  After a long silence, in which I thought of many things, including theformal offers of Captains de Barsac and Torchon de Cluny, I said I hadnot heard of it, and added sarcastically that I hoped both he and Alidawould pardon my ignorance on any matters which concerned myself.

  "Didn't you know that Alida came over here to buy her trousseau?" heinquired coolly.

  I did not, and I said so.

  "Didn't you know about the little plot that she and I laid to get you tobring her to Paris?" he persisted, much amused.

  I glared at him.

  "Why, Peter," he said, "when you declared to me in the clubhouse thatnothing could get you to Paris unless, through your own stupidity,something happened to your pig----"

  I turned on him as red as a beet.

  "I know you stole that pig, Van!"

  "Yes," he muttered guiltily.

  "Then," said I earnestly, "for God's sake let it rest where it is, andmarry Alida whenever you like!"

  "With your blessing, Peter?" asked Van Dieman, solemnly.

  "With my blessing--dammit!"

  We shook hands in silence.

  "Where is Alida?" he asked presently.

  "In her room, surrounded by thousands of dressmakers, hatmakers,mantua-makers, furriers, experts in shoes, lingerie, jewelry, and otherinexpensive trifles," said I with satisfaction.

  But the infatuated man never winced.

  "_You_ will attend to that sort of thing in the future," I remarked.

  The reckless man grinned in unfeigned delight.

  "Come," said I, wearily, "Alida is in for all day with her trousseau.I've a cab at the door; come on! I was going out to watch the parade atLongchamps. Now you've got to go with me and tell me something aboutthis temperamental French army that seems more numerous in Paris thanthe civilians."

  "What do you want to see soldiers for?" he objected.

  "Because," said I, "I had some slight experience with the army thismorning just before you arrived; and I want to take a bird's-eye view ofthe whole affair."

  "But I----"

  "Oh, we'll return for dinner and then you can see Alida," I added. "Butonly in my company. You see we are in France, Van, and she is the _jeunefille_ of romance."

  "Fudge!" he muttered, following me out to the cab.

  "We will drive by the Pont Neuf," he suggested. "You know the proverb?"

  "No," said I; "what proverb?"

  "The bridegroom who passes by the Pont Neuf will always meet a priest, asoldier, and a white horse. The priest will bless his marriage, thesoldier will defend it, the white horse will bear his burdens throughlife."

  As a matter of fact, passing the Pont Neuf, we did see a priest, asoldier, and a white horse. But it is a rare thing not to meet thiscombination on the largest, longest, oldest, and busiest bridge inParis. All three mascots are as common in Paris as are English sparrowsin the Bois de Boulogne.

  I bought a book on the quay, then re-entered the taxi and directed thedriver to take us to the race-course at Longchamps.

  Our way led up the Champs Elysees, and, while we whirled along, VanDieman very kindly told me as much about the French army as I now write,and for the accuracy of which I refer to my future son-in-law.

  There are, in permanent garrison in Paris, about thirty thousand troopsstationed. This does not include the famous Republican Guard corps,which is in reality a sort of municipal gendarmerie, composed of severalbattalions of infantry, several squadrons of gorgeous cavalry, and aworld-famous band, which corresponds in functions to our own Marine Bandat Washington.

  The barracks of the regular troops are scattered about the city, andoccupy strategic positions as the armouries of our National Guard aresupposed to do. All palaces, museums of importance, and governmentbuildings are guarded day and night by infantry. The cavalry guard onlytheir own barracks; the marines, engineers, and artillery the same.

  At night the infantry and cavalry of the Republican Guard post sentinelsat all theatres, balls, and public functions. In front of the Opera onlyare the cavalry mounted on their horses, except when public functionsoccur at the Elysees or the Hotel de Ville.

  In the dozen great fortresses that surround the walls of Paris,thousands of fortress artillery are stationed. In the suburbs andoutlying villages artillery and regiments of heavy and lightcavalry have their permanent barracks--dragoons, cuirassiers,chasseurs-a-cheval, field batteries, and mounted batteries. At SaintCloud are dragoons and remount troopers; at Versailles the engineers andcuirassiers rule the region; and the entire Department of the Seine ispatrolled by gendarmes, mounted and on foot.

  When we reached the beautiful meadow of Longchamps, with its grand-standcovered with waving flags and the sunshine glowing on thousands ofbrilliant parasols, we left the taxi, and found a place on what a NewYorker would call "the bleachers." The bleachers were covered withpretty women, so we were not in bad company. As for the great centralstand, where the President of the Republic sat surrounded by shoals ofbrilliant officers, it was a mass of colour from flagstaff to pelouse.

  The band of the Republican Guards was thundering out one of Sousa'smarches; the vast green plain glittered with masses of troops. Suddenlythree cannon-shots followed one another in quick order; the band endedits march with a long double roll of drums; the Minister of War hadarrived.

  "They're coming," said Van Dieman. "Look!
Here come the Saint-Cyrians.They lead the march one year, and the Polytechnic leads it the next. ButI wish they could see West Point--just once."

  The cadets from Saint-Cyr came marching past, solid ranks of scarlet,blue, and silver. They marched pretty well; they ride better, I am told.After them came the Polytechnic, in black and red and gold, the queercocked hats of the cadets forming a quaint contrast to the toy soldierheadgear of the Saint-Cyr soldiers. Following came battalion afterbattalion of engineers in sombre uniforms of red and dark blue, then abizarre battalion of Turcos or Algerian Riflemen in turbans and paleblue Turkish uniforms, then a company of Zouaves in scarlet and whiteand blue, then some special corps which was not very remarkable foranything except the bad fit of its clothing.

  After them marched solid columns of line infantry, great endless massesof dull red and blue, passing steadily until the eye wearied of themonotony.

  Trumpets were sounding now; and suddenly, the superb French artillerypassed at a trot, battery after battery, the six guns and six caissonsof each in mathematically perfect alignment, all the gunners mounted,and not a man sitting on limber or caisson.

  In my excitement I rose and joined the roar of cheers which greeted theartillerymen as battery after battery passed, six guns abreast.

  "Sit down," said Van Dieman, laughing. "Look! Here come the cavalry!"

  In two long double ranks, ten thousand horsemen were gallopingdiagonally across the plain--Hussars in pale robin's-egg blue and blackand scarlet, Chasseurs-a-cheval in light blue and silver tunics,Dragoons armed with long lances from which fluttered a forest ofred-and-white pennons, Cuirassiers cased in steel helmets andcorselets--all coming at a gallop, sweeping on with the earth shakingunder the thunder of forty thousand horses' hoofs, faster, faster,while in the excitement the vast throng of spectators leaped up on thebenches to see.

  There was a rumble, a rolling shock, a blast from a hundred trumpets."Halt!"

  Then, with the sound of the rushing of an ocean, ten thousand swordsswept from their steel scabbards, and a thundering cheer shook the verysky: "VIVE LA REPUBLIC!"

  * * * * *

  That evening we dined together at the Hotel--Alida, Dulcima, Van Dieman,and I.

  Alida wore a new ring set with a brilliant that matched her shining,happy eyes. I hoped Van Dieman might appear foolish and ill at ease, buthe did not.

  "There is," said he, "a certain rare brand of champagne in the secretcellars of this famous cafe. It is pink as a rose in colour, and drierthan a British cigar. It is the only wine, except the Czar's Tokay, fitto drink to the happiness of the only perfect woman in the world."

  "And her equally perfect sister, father and fiance," said I. "So prayorder this wonderful wine, Van, and let me note the brand; for I verymuch fear that we shall need another bottle at no distant date."

  "Why?" asked Dulcima, colouring to her hair.

  "Because," said I, "the French army is expected to encamp to-morrowbefore this hotel."

  "Cavalry or artillery?" she asked faintly.

  "Both," said I; "so let us thank Heaven that we escape the infantry, atleast. Alida, my dear, your health, happiness, and long, long life!"

  We drank the toast standing.

 


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