Tom Burke Of Ours, Volume I

by Charles James Lever

  CHAPTER XXV. THE SUPPER AT "BEAUVILLIERS'S"

  "Where to?," asked the coachman, as we entered the _caleche_.

  "Beauvilliers," said the marquis, throwing himself back in his seat, andremaining for some minutes silent.

  At last, as if suddenly recollecting that we were strangers to eachother, he said, "You know Beauvilliers, of course?"

  "No," replied I, with hesitation; "I really have not any acquaintance."

  "Parbleu," said he, laughing, "you ought at least to have hisfriendship. He is the most celebrated restaurateur of this or anyother age; no one has carried the great art of the cuisine to a higherperfection, and his cellars are unequalled in Paris. But you shallpronounce for yourself."

  "Unhappily my judgment is of little value. Do you forget that the dietroll of the Polytechnique is a bad school for gastronomy?"

  "But a glorious preparation for it," interrupted he. "How delightfulmust be the enjoyment to the unsophisticated palate of those firstimpressions which a _carpe a la Chambord_, a pheasant _truffe_, a dishof _ortolans a la Provengale_, inspire! But here we are. Our party isa small one,--an old prefet of the South, an abbe, a secretary of theRussian embassy, and ourselves."

  This information he gave me as we mounted a narrow and winding stair,dimly lighted by a single lamp. On reaching the landing, however, awaiter stood in readiness to usher us into a small apartment decoratedwith all the luxury of gold and plate glass, so profusely employed inthe interior of all cafes. The guests already mentioned were there, andevidently awaiting our arrival with no small impatience.

  "As usual, Henri," said the old man, whom I guessed to be theprefet,--"as usual, an hour behind your appointment."

  "Forgive him. Monsieur," said abbe, with a simper. "The fascinations ofa Court--"

  The grimace the old man made at this last word threw the whole partyinto a roar of laughter, which only ceased by the marquis presenting mein all form to each of his friends.

  "A table, a table, for Heaven's sake!" cried the prefet, ringing thebell, and bustling about the room with a fidgety impatience.

  This was, however, unneeded; for in less than five minutes the suppermade its appearance, and we took our places at the board.

  The encomiums pronounced as each dish came and went satisfied me thatthe feast was unexceptionable. As for myself, I ate away, only consciousthat I had never been so regaled before, and wondering within me howfar ingenuity had been exercised to produce the endless variety thatappeared at table. The wine, too, circulated freely; and Champagne,Bordeaux, and Chambertin followed one another in succession, as thedifferent meats indicated the peculiar vintage. In the conversationI could take no part,--it was entirely gastronomic; and no man everexisted more ignorant of the seasons that promised well for truffles, orthe state of the atmosphere that threatened acidity to the vines.

  "Well, Henri," said the prefet, when the dessert made its appearance,and the time for concluding the gourmand dissertation seemedarrived,--"well! and what news from the Tuileries?"

  "Nothing--absolutely nothing," said he, carelessly,--"the samepeople; the same topics; the eternal game of tric-trac with old Madamed'Angerton; Denon tormenting some new victim with a mummy or a map ofEgypt; Madame Lefebvre relating camp anecdotes--"

  "Ah, she is delightful!" interrupted the prefet.

  "So thinks your chief, at least, Askoff," said De Beauvais, turning tothe Russian. "He sat on the sofa beside her for a good hour and a half."

  "Who sat near him on the other side?" slyly asked the other.

  "On the other side? I forget: no, I remember it was Monsieur deTalleyrand and Madame Bonaparte. And, now I think of it, he must haveoverheard what they said."

  "Is it true, then, that Bonaparte insulted the English ambassador at thereception? Askoff heard it as he left the Rue St. Honore."

  "Perfectly true. The scene was a most outrageous one; and Lord Whitworthretired, declaring to Talleyrand--at least, so they say--that withoutan apology being made, he would abstain from any future visits at theTuileries."

  "But what is to come of it?--tell me that. What is to be the result?"

  "_Pardieu!_ I know not. A reconciliation to-morrow; an article in the'Moniteur;' a dinner at the Court; and then another rupture, and anotherarticle."

  "Or a war," said the Russian, looking cautiously about, to see if hisopinion met any advocacy.

  "What say you to that, mon ami?" said De Beauvais, turning to me. "Gladenough, I suppose, you 'll be to win your epaulettes as colonel."

  "That, too, is on the cards," said the abbe, sipping his glass quietly."One can credit anything these times."

  "Even the Catholic religion, Abbe," said De Beauvais, laughing.

  "Or the Restoration," replied the abbe, with a half-malicious look atthe prefet, which seemed greatly to amuse the Russian.

  "Or the Restoration!" repeated the prefet, solemnly, after him,--"or theRestoration!" And then filling his glass to the brim, he drained it tothe bottom.

  "It is a hussar corps you are appointed to?" said De Beauvais, hastilyturning towards me, as if anxious to engage my attention.

  "Yes; the huitieme," said I: "do you know them?"

  "No; I have few acquaintances in the army."

  "His father, sir," said the prefet, with a voice of considerableemphasis, "was an old garde du corps in those times when the sword wasonly worn by gentlemen."

  "So much the worse for the army," whispered the abbe, in an undertone,that was sufficiently audible to the rest to cause an outbreak oflaughter.

  "And when," continued the prefet, undisturbed by the interruption,"birth had its privileges."

  "Among the rest, that of being the first beheaded," murmured theinexorable abbe.

  "Were truffles dear before the Revolution, prefet?" said De Beauvais,with a half-impertinent air of simplicity.

  "No, sir; nothing was dear save the King's favor."

  "Which could also be had for paying for," quoth the abbe.

  "The 'Moniteur' of this evening, gentlemen," said the waiter, enteringwith the paper, whose publication had been delayed some two hours beyondthe usual period.

  "Ah, let us see what we have here," said De Beauvais, opening thejournal and reading aloud: "'Greneral Espinasse is appointed to thecommand of the fourth corps, stationed at Lille; and Major-GeneralLannes to the fortress of Montreil, vacant by--' No matter,--here it is.'Does the English government suppose that France is one of her Indianpossessions, without the means to declare her wrongs or the power toavenge them? Can they believe that rights are not reciprocal, and thatthe observance of one contracting party involves nothing on the part ofthe other?'"

  "There, there, De Beauvais; don't worry us with that tiresome nonsense."

  "'Or,' continued the marquis, still reading aloud, 'do they presume tosay that we shall issue no commercial instructions to our agentsabroad lest English susceptibility should be wounded by any prospect ofincreased advantages to our trade?'"

  "Our trade!" echoed the prefet, with a most contemptuous intonation onthe word.

  "Ah, for those good old times, when there was none!" said the abbe, withsuch a semblance of honest sincerity as drew an approving smile from theold man.

  "Hear this, Prefet," said De Beauvais: "'From the times of Colbertto the present'--what think you? the allusion right royal, is itnot?--'From the times of Colbert our negotiations have been alwaysconducted in this manner.'"

  "Sir, I beseech you read no more of that intolerable nonsense."

  "And here," continued the marquis, "follows a special invocation of thebenediction of Heaven on the just efforts which France is called on tomake, to repress the insolent aggression of England. Abbe, this concernsyou."

  "Of course," said he, meekly. "I am quite prepared to pray for the partyin power; if Heaven but leaves them there, I must conclude they deserveit."

  A doubtful look, as if he but half understood him, was the only replythe old prefet made to this speech; at which the laughter of the otherscould no longer
be repressed, and burst forth most heartily.

  "But let us read on. Whose style is this, think you? 'France possessedwithin her dominion every nation from the North Sea to the Adriatic. Andhow did she employ her power?--in restoring to Batavia self-government;in giving liberty to Switzerland; and in ceding Venice to Austria, whilethe troops at the very gates of Vienna are halted and repass the Rhineonce more. Are these the evidences of ambition? Are these the signs ofthat overweening lust of territory with which England dares to reproachus? And if such passions prevailed, what was easier than to haveindulged them? Was not Italy our own? Were not Batavia, Switzerland,Portugal, all ours? But no, peace was the desire of the nation; peaceat any cost. The colony of St. Domingo, that immense territory, was notconceived a sacrifice too great to secure such a blessing.'"

  "Pardieu! De Beauvais, I can bear it no longer."

  "You must let me give you the reverse of the medal. Hear now whatEngland has done."

  "He writes well, at least for the taste of newspaper readers," said theabbe, musingly; "but still he only understands the pen as he does thesword,--it must be a weapon of attack."

  "Who is the writer, then?" said I, in a half-whisper.

  "Who!--can you doubt it?--Bonaparte himself. What other man in Francewould venture to pronounce so authoritatively on the prospects and theintentions of the nation?"

  "Or who," said the abbe, in his dry manner, "could speak with suchaccuracy of the 'Illustrious and Magnanimous Chief 'that rules herdestinies?"

  "It is growing late," said the prefet, with the air of one who took nopleasure in the conversation, "and I start for Rouen to-morrow morning."

  "Come, come, prefet! one bumper before we part," said Be Beauvais."Something has put you out of temper this evening; yet I think I know atoast can restore you to good-humor again."

  The old man lifted his hand with a gesture of caution, while he suddenlydirected a look towards me.

  "No, no; don't be afraid," said De Beauvais, laughing; "I think you 'llacquit me of any rashness. Fill up, then; and here let us drink to onein the old palace of the Tuileries who at this moment can bring us backin memory to the most glorious days of our country."

  "_Pardieu!_ that must be the First Consul, I suppose," whispered theabbe, to the prefet, who dashed his glass with such violence on thetable as to smash it in a hundred pieces.

  "See what comes of impatience!" cried De Beauvais, laughing. "Andnow you have not wherewithal to pledge my fair cousin the 'Rose ofProvence.'"

  "The Rose of Provence!" said each in turn; while, excited by the wine,of which I had drunk freely, and carried away by the enthusiasm of themoment, I re-echoed the words in such a tone as drew every eye upon me.

  "Ah! you know my cousin, then?" said De Beauvais,--looking at me with astrange mixture of curiosity and astonishment.

  "No," said I; "I have seen her--I saw her this evening at the Palace."

  "Well, I must present you," said he, smiling good-day naturedly.

  Before I could mutter my acknowledgment, the party had risen, and weretaking leave of each other for the night.

  "I shall see you soon again, Burke," said De Beauvais, as he pressed myhand warmly; "and now, adieu!"

  With that we parted; and I took my way back towards the Polytechnique,my mind full of strange incidents of this the most eventful night in myquiet and monotonous existence.