The King in Yellow

by Robert W. Chambers

  THE STREET OF OUR LADY OF THE FIELDS

  "Et tout les jours passes dans la tristesse Nous sont comptes comme des jours heureux!"

  I

  The street is not fashionable, neither is it shabby. It is a pariah amongstreets--a street without a Quarter. It is generally understood to lieoutside the pale of the aristocratic Avenue de l'Observatoire. Thestudents of the Montparnasse Quarter consider it swell and will have noneof it. The Latin Quarter, from the Luxembourg, its northern frontier,sneers at its respectability and regards with disfavour the correctlycostumed students who haunt it. Few strangers go into it. At times,however, the Latin Quarter students use it as a thoroughfare between therue de Rennes and the Bullier, but except for that and the weeklyafternoon visits of parents and guardians to the Convent near the rueVavin, the street of Our Lady of the Fields is as quiet as a Passyboulevard. Perhaps the most respectable portion lies between the rue de laGrande Chaumiere and the rue Vavin, at least this was the conclusionarrived at by the Reverend Joel Byram, as he rambled through it withHastings in charge. To Hastings the street looked pleasant in the brightJune weather, and he had begun to hope for its selection when the ReverendByram shied violently at the cross on the Convent opposite.

  "Jesuits," he muttered.

  "Well," said Hastings wearily, "I imagine we won't find anything better.You say yourself that vice is triumphant in Paris, and it seems to me thatin every street we find Jesuits or something worse."

  After a moment he repeated, "Or something worse, which of course I wouldnot notice except for your kindness in warning me."

  Dr. Byram sucked in his lips and looked about him. He was impressed by theevident respectability of the surroundings. Then frowning at the Conventhe took Hastings' arm and shuffled across the street to an iron gatewaywhich bore the number 201 _bis_ painted in white on a blue ground. Belowthis was a notice printed in English:

  1. For Porter please oppress once. 2. For Servant please oppress twice. 3. For Parlour please oppress thrice.

  Hastings touched the electric button three times, and they were usheredthrough the garden and into the parlour by a trim maid. The dining-roomdoor, just beyond, was open, and from the table in plain view a stoutwoman hastily arose and came toward them. Hastings caught a glimpse of ayoung man with a big head and several snuffy old gentlemen at breakfast,before the door closed and the stout woman waddled into the room, bringingwith her an aroma of coffee and a black poodle."

  "It ees a plaisir to you receive!" she cried. "Monsieur is Anglish? No?Americain? Off course. My pension it ees for Americains surtout. Here allspik Angleesh, c'est a dire, ze personnel; ze sairvants do spik, plus oumoins, a little. I am happy to have you comme pensionnaires--"

  "Madame," began Dr. Byram, but was cut short again.

  "Ah, yess, I know, ah! mon Dieu! you do not spik Frainch but you have cometo lairne! My husband does spik Frainch wiss ze pensionnaires. We have atze moment a family Americaine who learn of my husband Frainch--"

  Here the poodle growled at Dr. Byram and was promptly cuffed by hismistress.

  "Veux tu!" she cried, with a slap, "veux tu! Oh! le vilain, oh! levilain!"

  "Mais, madame," said Hastings, smiling, "il n'a pas l'air tres feroce."

  The poodle fled, and his mistress cried, "Ah, ze accent charming! He doesspik already Frainch like a Parisien young gentleman!"

  Then Dr. Byram managed to get in a word or two and gathered more or lessinformation with regard to prices.

  "It ees a pension serieux; my clientele ees of ze best, indeed a pensionde famille where one ees at 'ome."

  Then they went upstairs to examine Hastings' future quarters, test thebed-springs and arrange for the weekly towel allowance. Dr. Byram appearedsatisfied.

  Madame Marotte accompanied them to the door and rang for the maid, but asHastings stepped out into the gravel walk, his guide and mentor paused amoment and fixed Madame with his watery eyes.

  "You understand," he said, "that he is a youth of most careful bringingup, and his character and morals are without a stain. He is young and hasnever been abroad, never even seen a large city, and his parents haverequested me, as an old family friend living in Paris, to see that he isplaced under good influences. He is to study art, but on no account wouldhis parents wish him to live in the Latin Quarter if they knew of theimmorality which is rife there."

  A sound like the click of a latch interrupted him and he raised his eyes,but not in time to see the maid slap the big-headed young man behind theparlour-door.

  Madame coughed, cast a deadly glance behind her and then beamed on Dr.Byram.

  "It ees well zat he come here. The pension more serious, il n'en existepas, eet ees not any!" she announced with conviction.

  So, as there was nothing more to add, Dr. Byram joined Hastings at thegate.

  "I trust," he said, eyeing the Convent, "that you will make noacquaintances among Jesuits!"

  Hastings looked at the Convent until a pretty girl passed before the grayfacade, and then he looked at her. A young fellow with a paint-box andcanvas came swinging along, stopped before the pretty girl, said somethingduring a brief but vigorous handshake at which they both laughed, and hewent his way, calling back, "A demain Valentine!" as in the same breathshe cried, "A demain!"

  "Valentine," thought Hastings, "what a quaint name;" and he started tofollow the Reverend Joel Byram, who was shuffling towards the nearesttramway station.