Balsamo, the Magician; or, The Memoirs of a Physician

by Alexandre Dumas

  CHAPTER XXII.

  AT A LOSS FOR EVERYTHING.

  At eleven A. M., Lady Dubarry arrived at her house in Valois Street,determined to make Paris her starting-point for her march toVersailles. Lady Bearn was there, kept close when not under her eye,with the utmost art of the doctors trying to alleviate the pain of herburn.

  From over night Jean and Chon and the waiting-woman had been at workand none who knew not the power of gold would have believed in thewonders they wrought in short time.

  The hairdresser was engaged to come at six o'clock; the dress was amarvel on which twenty-six seamstresses were sewing the pearls, ribbonsand trimmings, so that it would be done in time instead of taking aweek as usual. At the same hour as the hairdresser, it would be onhand. As for the coach, the varnish was drying on it in a shed builtto heat the air. The mob flocked to see it, a carriage superior to anythe dauphiness had; with the Dubarry war-cry emblazoned on the panels:"Charge Onward!" palliated by doves billing and cooing on one side, anda heart transfixed with a dart on the other. The whole was enrichedwith the attributes of Cupid bows, quivers and the hymeneal torch. Thiscoach was to be at the door at nine.

  While the preparations were proceeding at the favorites' the news ranround the town.

  Idle and indifferent as the Parisians pretend to be, they are fonder ofnovelty than any other people. Lady Dubarry in her regal coach paradedbefore the populace like an actress on the stage.

  One is interested in those whose persons are known.

  Everybody knew the beauty, as she was eager to show herself in theplayhouse, on the promenade and in the stores, like all pretty, richand young belles. Besides, she was known by her portraits, freaks, andthe funny negro boy Zamore. People crowded the Palais Royal, not tosee Rousseau play chess, worse luck to the philosophers! but to admirethe lovely fairy in her fine dresses and gilded coach, which were sotalked about.

  Jean Dubarry's saying that "the Dubarrys cost the country a nice sum"was deep, and it was only fair that France who paid the bill, shouldsee the show.

  Jeanne knew that the French liked to be dazzled; she was more one ofthe nation than the queen, a Polander; and as she was kindly, she triedto get her money's worth in the display.

  Instead of lying down for a rest as her brother suggested, shetook a bath of milk for her complexion, and was ready by six forthe hairdresser. A headdress for a lady to go to the court in wasa building which took time, in those days. The operator had to benot only a man of art, but of patience. Alone among the craftsmen,hairdressers were allowed to wear the sword like gentlemen.

  At six o'clock the court hairdresser, the great Lubin, had not arrived.Nor at a quarter past seven; the only hope was that, like all greatmen, Lubin was not going to be held cheap by coming punctually.

  But a running-footman was sent to learn about him, and returned withthe news that Lubin had left his house and would probably arriveshortly.

  "There has been a block of vehicles on the way," explained the viscount.

  "Plenty of time," said the countess. "I will try on my dress whileawaiting him. Chon, fetch my dress."

  "Your ladyship's sister went off ten minutes ago to get it," said Doris.

  "Hark, to wheels!" interrupted Jean. "It is our coach."

  No, it was Chon, with the news that the dressmaker, with two of herassistants, was just starting with the dress to try it on and finishfitting it. But she was a little anxious.

  "Viscount," said the countess, "won't you send for the coach?"

  "You are right, Jeanne. Take the new horses to Francian thecoach-builder's," he ordered at the door, "and bring the new coach withthem harnessed to it."

  As the sound of the departing horses was still heard, Zamore trotted inwith a letter.

  "Buckra gemman give Zamore letter."

  "What gentleman?"

  "On horseback, at the door."

  "Read it, dear, instead of questioning. I hope it is nothing untoward."

  "Really, viscount, you are very silly to be so frightened," said thecountess, but on opening the letter, she screamed and fell half dead onthe lounge.

  "No hairdresser! no dress! no coach!" she panted, while Chon rushed toher and Jean picked up the letter.

  Thus it ran in a feminine handwriting:

  "Be on your guard. You will have no hairdresser, dress or coach this evening. I hope you will get this in time. As I do not seek your gratitude, I do not name myself. If you know of a sincere friend, take that as me."

  "This is the last straw," cried Jean in his rage. "By the Blue Moon, Imust kill somebody! No hairdresser? I will scalp this Lubin. For it ishalf-past seven, and he has not turned up. Malediction!"

  He was not going to court, so he did not hesitate to tear at his hair.

  "The trouble is the dress," groaned Chon. "Hairdressers can be foundanywhere."

  The countess said nothing, but she heaved a sigh which would havemelted the Choiseul party had they heard it. Then:

  "Come, come," said Chon; "let us be calm. Let us hunt up anotherhairdresser, and see about that dress not coming."

  "Then there is the coach," said Jean. "It ought to have been hereby this. It is a plot. Will you not make Sartines arrest the guiltyones--Maupeou sentence them to death--and the whole gang be burned withtheir fellows on Execution Place? I want to rack the hairdresser, breakthe dressmaker on the wheel, and flay the coachbuilder alive."

  The countess had come to her senses but only to see the dreadfuldilemma the better.

  At the height of this scene of tribulation, echoing from the boudoirto the street door, while the footmen were blundering over each otherin confusion at a score of different orders, a young blade in anapplegreen silk coat and vest, lilac breeches and white silk stockings,skipped out of a cab, crossed the deserted sill and the courtyard,bounded up the stairs and rapped on the dressing-room door.

  Jean was wrestling with a chins stand with which his coat-tail wasentangled, while steadying a huge Japanese idol which he had struck toohard with his fist, when the three knocks, wary, modest and delicate,came at the panel.

  Jean opened it with a fist which would have beaten in the gates ofGaza. But the stranger eluded the shock by a leap, and falling on hisfeet in the third position of dancing, he said:

  "My lord, I come to offer my service as hairdresser to the CountessDubarry, who, I hear, is commanded to present herself at court."

  "A hairdresser!" cried the Dubarrys, ready to hug him and dragging himinto the room. "Did Lubin send you?"

  "You are an angel," said the countess.

  "Nobody sent me," returned the young man. "I read in the newspapersthat your ladyship was going to court this evening, and I thought Imight have a chance of showing that I have a new idea for a courtheaddress."

  "What might be your name, younker?" demanded Jean, distrustfully.

  "Leonard, unknown at present, but if the lady will only try me, it willbe celebrated to-morrow. Only I must see her dress, that I may createthe headdress in harmony."

  "Oh my dress, my poor, poor dress!" moaned the countess, recalled toreality by the allusion. "What is the use of having one's hair done up,when one has no robe?" and she fell back on the lounge.

  At this instant the doorbell rang. It was a dress-box which the janitortook from a porter in the street, which the butler took from him andwhich Jean tore out of his hands. He took off the lid, plunged hishand into the depths and yelled with glee. It enclosed a court dressof China satin, with flowers _applique_, and the lace trimming ofincredible value.

  "A dress!" gasped Jeanne, almost fainting with joy as she had withgrief. "But how can it suit me, who was not measured for it?"

  Chon tried it with the tape measure.

  "It is right in length and width of the waist," said Chon. "This isfabulous."

  "The material is wonderful," said Jean.

  "The whole is terrifying," said the countess.

  "Nonsense! This only proves that if you have bitter enemies, you havesome sweet friends
."

  "It cannot be a mere human friend, Jean," said Chon, "for how wouldsuch know the mischief set against us? it must be a sylph."

  "I don't care if it is the Old Harry, if he will help me against theGrammonts! He is not so black as those wretches," said the countess.

  "Now I think of it, I wager you may entrust your hair to thishairdresser, for he must be sent by the same friend who furnishes thedress," suggested Jean. "Own up that your story was pure gammon?"

  "Not at all," protested the young man, showing the newspaper. "I keptit to make the curls for the hair."

  "It is no use, for I have no carriage."

  "Hark, here it is rolling up to our door," exclaimed Chon.

  "Quick!" shouted Jean, "do not let them get away without our knowing towhom we owe all these kindnesses."

  And he rushed with janitor, steward and footmen out on the street. Itwas too late. Before the door stood two magnificent bay horses, with agilded coach, lined with white satin. Not a trace of driver or footmen.A man in the street had run up to get the job of holding the horses andthose who brought them had left him in charge. A hasty hand had blottedout the coat of arms on the panels and painted a rose.

  All this counter-action to the misadventures had taken place in an hour.

  Jean had the horses brought into the yard, locking the gates andpocketing the key. Then he returned to the room where the hairdresserwas about to give the lady the first proofs of his skill.

  "Miracle!" said Chon, "the robe fits perfectly, except an inch out infront, too long; but we can take it up in a minute."

  "Will the coach pass muster?" inquired the countess.

  "It is in the finest taste. I got into it to try the springs," answeredJean. "It is lined with white satin, and scented with attar of roses."

  "Then everything is going on swimmingly," said the countess clappingher hands. "Go on, Master Leonard; if you succeed your fortune is made."

  With the first stroke of the comb, Leonard showed that he was anexperienced hand. In three-quarters of an hour, Lady Dubarry came forthfrom his hands more seductive than Aphrodite; for she had more clotheson her, and she was quite as handsome.

  "You shall be my own hairdresser," said the lady, eyeing herself in ahand glass, "and every time you do my hair up for a court occasion, youshall have fifty gold pieces. Chon, count out a hundred to the artist,for I want him to consider fifty as a retaining fee. But you must workfor none but me."

  "Then take your money back, my lady. I want to be free. Liberty is theprimary boon of mankind."

  "God bless us! It is a philosophic hairdresser!" groaned Jean,lifting his hands. "What are we coming to? Well, Master Leonard, takethe hundred, and do as you deused well please. Come to your coach,countess."

  These words were addressed to Countess Bearn, who limped out of theinner room.

  "Four of you footmen take the lady between you," ordered Jean, "andcarry her gently down the stairs. If she utters a single groan, I willhave you flogged."

  Leonard disappeared during this delicate task.

  "Where can he have slipped away?" the young countess wanted to know.

  "Where? By some rat hole or bang through the wall!" said the viscount."As the spirits cut away. Have a care, my dear, lest your headdressbecomes a wasp nest, your dress a cobweb, and your carriage a pumpkindrawn by a pair of mice, on arriving at Versailles."

  Enunciating this dreadful threat, Viscount Jean got into the carriage,in which was already placed Countess Bearn and the happy woman to whomshe was to stand sponsor.