It is well that we should now enter M. Supia’s “home” and make acquaintance with the persons who adorned it. We have hitherto been so fully occupied with the mystery of Bella Nissa that we have necessarily neglected anything not directly relating to Hardigras, and we have caught but a passing glimpse of Mlle. Antoinette who, like others, had a plan for arresting him.
CHAPTER V
MLLE. ANTOINETTE’S PLAN FOR ARRESTING HARDIGRAS
OF M. SUPIA, himself, we know very little. In appearance he did not belie his name; for, Supia in the local dialect means cuttle-fish. Lean, ungainly, enveloped in a long, loose, black frock coat without which he was never seen by his staff, of a bilious complexion, grayish-blue eyes, sharp nose and chin, sparse hair brushed with meticulous care over a hard forehead, this man between fifty and sixty years of age, whose appearance was now so little attractive, had had his day, some twenty years earlier, with the fair sex. He had won among others the wife of his employer, M. Delamarre, the founder of Bella Nissa, of which Supia was then the chief accountant.
Thélise Honorine Conception Delamarre had discovered so distinguished a bearing in this man, one of the firm’s principal employees, that she had had neither the will nor the desire to resist him. It was happily at this juncture that M. Delamarre, after an attack of indigestion, and before he had become aware of his wife’s change of affections, had had the good taste to depart this life. Certain rumors were current regarding his death as always happens when a fortunate coincidence provides the opportunity for an unforeseen triumph. Such gossip in no way perturbed the distinguished Supia. The marriage between him and Mme. Delamarre was an honorable, an irreproachable one.
But a week had scarcely elapsed before Mme. Supia discovered that her husband was hard, cantankerous, tyrannical, and sparing of his money — or rather of her money. We already know how he treated his staff; in other words, from the highest to the humblest member of it as well as by his own household he was looked upon as the “tyrant.” It may be that this sobriquet went too far, but we are dealing with a neighborhood in which there is no worse crime than to be unpopular.
One person who had small love for him was his goddaughter, the very pretty Antoinette. She was not loved by any one in the house except the servants, who worshiped her, for it is a remarkable fact that servants invariably bestow their liking on persons whom their masters cannot endure.
Antoinette was the daughter of Mme. Supia’s sister who had married an honest, clever, hard-working and hard-living man of Nice — characteristics which are by no means negligible with which to achieve success in that district. Antoine Agagnosc started life as a tailor’s cutter in a firm of repute and he possessed the business instinct. Some years later he launched out on his own account, and it was then that he married Mme. Delamarre’s sister.
Bella Nissa was at that time one of the oldest linen-draper’s shops in the town supplying the average townsman, the market sellers, and the country round. As Delamarre’s brother-in-law, Agagnosc had little difficulty in making him understand that much was to be gained by developing the shop in such a way as to attract a better class of customer, and he offered to enter into partnership with him. The suggestion was accepted to their mutual advantage. Bella Nissa before long consisted of a block of shops and made great profits. Delamarre died, as we have stated, and Mme. Delamarre married M. Supia.
The partnership was continued between Agagnosc and Supia. That same year the two sisters presented their husbands respectively with a daughter. The baptism was a beautiful sight. Agagnosc stood before the baptismal font of St. Paul’s Church as godfather to Supia’s daughter, while Supia became godfather to Agagonsc’s daughter.
Mme. Agagnosc was of delicate health and died when Antoinette was two years old. And Agagnosc himself, who worshiped his wife, fell into a state of great melancholy, and it was not long before he followed her.
He left a considerable fortune in addition to his partnership in the stores. Antoinette was the sole heiress. He imagined that he could do no better than leave the management of this fortune to Hyacinthe Supia, whose strict probity, allied to his consuming avarice, he was able to appreciate. Moreover, Mme Agagnosc’s sister would be a second mother to Antoinette. He died, therefore, with his mind at rest, glad to rejoin the wife who lay waiting for him under the turf in the little cemetery at the Castle, in the full light of the Nice sun.
The Supias had a country house at La Nova Fourca, in the Grasse valley. It was here that Antoinette was brought up among jasmine and roses, on milk from Mme. Bibi’s goats. She rarely left La Nova Fourca; for she took no pleasure in town, which suited the purpose of all concerned.
Nevertheless, in spite of her tears, when she grew up they had to uproot her from this life of a wild flower. She was sent to a boarding school in Nice. She had left it about a year before to the great joy of the mistresses, whose lives she had rendered somewhat difficult, even though she was endowed with a delightful nature. She thought only of play, had a horror of lessons, and knew so well how to obtain forgiveness for her pranks that it was almost impossible to punish her.
Despite the by no means justifiable recommendations with which the examiners were assailed on her behalf she could not pass her examinations. Nevertheless, she had a considerable success in geography when she mentioned among the polar seas “the arthritic sea”; she was asked about L’Hotel des Invalides and made answer that it was a dancing hall. It was to no purpose that she explained how she had been told that in every hotel in Paris there was a dancing hall. The examiners hardly knew whether she was making game of them or not. She was then fifteen years old. After such brilliant schooling M. Supia provided her with a teacher who, first and foremost a governess, was never to leave her. M. Supia had his own reasons for that.
It was not without dread that he saw the time coming when he would have to render to his ward an account of her stewardship. Her marriage would be a serious matter for Bella Nissa, particularly at that time when the business needed all its financial ammunition to fight against Parisian competition.
M. Supia intended to choose a husband for her. But did she intend to allow M. Supia to choose her husband? We may surprise many of our readers by stating that she did not care one way or the other, as we shall soon see.
M. Supia went up to his flat at lunch time. A maid servant told him in a trembling voice that madame and mademoiselle had not yet returned.
“Is Mlle. Antoinette out with them?” he asked.
“No, sir, the ladies went out alone.”
“Tell Mlle. Antoinette that I want to see her.”
He went into the dining-room where the table was laid for four persons. He cast a dissatisfied look round and called the maid.
“Were you not told that the Prince was coming to lunch?”
“No sir.”
“Well, he is coming. Lay the best service and let’s have a table center and some flowers. Tell Mlle. Antoinette that I am waiting to see her in my study.”
Two minutes later the study door was opened and the same young girl with whom we made acquaintance when M. Supia was in a scarcely less disagreeable mood, displayed her bright smile, clear blue eyes, plump cheeks, tip-tilted nose, and intelligent forehead framed in a tumble of golden hair which would have eluded all the combs and ribbons in Bella Nissa.
“Good morning, godfather. How are you this morning?”
“Bad,” returned M. Supia ungraciously. “Look here, what’s the meaning of this dress you’re wearing? Were you not told that the Prince was lunching with us to-day?”
“I was going to tell you Aunt ‘phoned the Prince....”
“What did he say?”
“It seems that he finds it impossible to come to-day.”
“That’s all right. He’ll come all the same. Go and change your frock and tidy your hair. Understand?”
“But he ‘phoned aunt...”
“Your aunt doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
“All right, godfather.
”
“I told her to take you and Caroline to the Promenade des Anglais. Why did you stay at home?”
“I hardly know. Aunt and cousin didn’t want me, I expect. They can very well do without me, you know.”
“It’s your fault. You behave so badly.”
“Oh, godfather! But I can equally well do without them; so don’t worry.”
“What have you been doing to-day?”
“I worked all the morning with Mlle. Lévadette who had the toothache. She always has something the matter with her, and it doesn’t make her any the more pleasant. Can’t you find me another governess?”
“You won’t want a governess when you’re married.”
“Then marry me at once, godfather.”
“To whom?” asked Supia roughly, darting a suspicious look at her.
“Any one you please.”
“Very well. I’ll think of it. I promised your father to insure your happiness, and I shall do so against your will if needs be.”
“Well, godfather, I only ask one thing — insure my happiness as soon as you can.... Send me back to the country, to La Fourca.... I was so happy at La Fourca.”
“With Mme. Bibi’s goats?”
“Yes.”
“Little simpleton. Do you think I undertook to be your guardian to allow you to become a goat-herd?”
“What do you intend to do with me, godfather?”
“I’ll tell you soon.”
“Oh, I know as well as you do what you intend to do with me — make me a Princess.”
Supia taken aback, said nothing. That the chit who was so sharp should have guessed as much did not surprise him unduly, but he waited to hear more.... Antoinette was wont to speak of the Prince only to make game of him, and had already played all sorts of tricks on him. And, besides, the Prince confessed to forty-five years of age. True he was still a very handsome man, but after all a handsome man of forty-five is attractive to a young girl of seventeen, only on the stage.
Therefore M. Supia was waiting to hear more, and as she remained silent, he lost patience and broke out: “Well, suppose it were true?”
“That’s all right. I don’t mind being a Princess.”
“I knew I should please you.”
“And him as well.”
“Did he tell you so?”
“What do you think! He is too discreet for that.”
“To tell you he loves you?”
“No, to tell me he loves my money.”
M. Supia coughed.
“So you’ve thought it over.”
“No, it’s you who’ve thought it over!... You said to yourself: It will be a good thing to have a Prince connected with Bella Nissa. It will infuriate the Galeries Parisienne.”
“It’s impossible to hide anything from you, Antoinette.”
“It’s the Prince who will be staggered.”
“Because I give him my goddaughter?”
“No, because I accept him.... For after all he is stone broke, your Prince, and with the life he leads will soon need a bath-chair.”
“Antoinette! I am speaking seriously.”
“So am I. But he will be still more staggered after...”
“After what?”
“After we are married when I cast him off.”
“What! Have you taken leave of your senses?”
“I have never been so sensible in my life. On the one hand I shall do all that you wish, and on the other, by dropping him after marriage, I shall be meeting his wishes. I have no desire personally to interfere with this man. I will leave him to you since you can’t do without him, and I shall go back to La Fourca and Mme. Bibi’s goats.... Oh, godfather, take it ‘or leave it.”
“All right. All right.... After all, when you are married you may do what you like. That’s a matter for your husband.”
“I say, godfather, won’t aunt and cousin be furious?”
“Not to mention that they certainly will be jealous of you. Only fancy — you’ll be a Princess. Go and change your frock. Ah, my girl — by the way — what is that idea of yours which you wished to tell me — you know in connection with that infernal Hardigras?”
Antoinette burst out laughing.
“So you’ve come to that! Well, you know, you don’t deserve to be told what my idea is.... And on consideration I won’t tell you.... I’ll go and change my frock.”
“Antoinette.”
“Don’t keep me. My lord may come, and I wish to be seen to the best advantage....”
“Antoinette.”
“And besides you wouldn’t do it.”
“Never mind, tell me.”
“Well, it was an idea that flashed across me. It’s very simple. I feel certain there is only one man capable of arresting Hardigras.”
“Who is it?”
“The thing always happens at night time, doesn’t it?”
“Who is it.... Tell me.”
“Well, as it always happens at night time you must have a head watchman who is a strong man, and who will be glad of the opportunity of doing something to please me.”
“But who is it?”
“Not forgetting that at the same time you will be doing a good deed.”
“Come, out with it.”
“Well, if I were in your place, I should send for Titin.” M. Supia gave a start and then banged the table with his fist.
“Titin!” he cried. “Titin le Bastardon.... Titin the Carnival scamp.... You dare....”
“Why not? He would soon ferret out your Hardigras.”
“Antoinette, I’ve already told you not to mention that fellow’s name to me. Titin is a hot-headed youth who will never do any good.”
“You make a mistake, godfather. He is as artful as a monkey and nothing will stand in his way. If I told him to get hold of Hardigras he would arrest him.”
“Why Titin more than anyone else?”
“Because Titin has always done everything I asked him to do.”
“That’ll do. Let’s drop the subject. I hope you haven’t seen him since I told you not to.”
“No, the poor boy has never tried to come near me since you sent him away.”
“Well, let it rest at that.”
“As you please. Let it rest at that, but don’t complain, godfather, if Hardigras ends by clearing out your shop.”
CHAPTER VI
PRINCE HIPPOTHADEE
THE MAID CAME in to say that Prince Hippothadee had arrived. M. Supia at once went to him and himself showed him into the drawing-room. He lamented aloud the furniture being still in its covers, but the ladies had not yet returned from their morning walk. He begged the Prince to excuse them.
“I readily excuse them,” returned the Prince none too well pleased. “Mme. Supia in fact telephoned me this morning that you wished to ask me to lunch, but begged me to find some pretext for postponing until later the pleasure of accepting your hospitality, because she had a great deal of shopping to do this morning. She said she was returning for a hasty lunch and leaving again at once for Monte Carlo, where she and her daughter had an engagement to join some friends in an excursion...
“I told them that the postponement would suit me admirably because I had already accepted the Comtesse de Domingo d’Azila’s invitation to put the finishing touches to the program for a charity performance in aid of orphans of fishermen lost at sea.”
Prince Henri Vladimir Hippothadee, lord of Transylvania, was a man of distinguished presence. His tall, upright figure, his easy gait, his manner of kissing ladies’ hands, and leading them to dance the tango, seemed to belong to the period of belated manhood; but his worn, lined, made-up face, his mustache and hair a little too dark, and the glassy look in his eyes, betrayed the years spent in the furious pursuit of pleasure and gambling saloons.
He wore a monocle, but the ornament did not impart to him that expression of absurd insolence with which would-be fine gentlemen seek to enforce themselves on the mob. He played gracefully with it, a fac
t that added to his accustomed affability, for Prince Hippothadee carefully dissimulated under a charming exterior the instincts of a spendthrift and a wastrel. He was one of the most appreciated figures in select circles. But he no longer possessed the wherewithal to support his position apart from the grudging and restive liberality of the Comtesse de Domingo d’Azila. It follows from all this that it was high time for the Prince, as the phrase goes, to settle down.
Had the thought occurred to him? It was quite possible. In any case M. Supia had thought of it for him. He had listened without surprise to the Prince’s story couched in a tone of some acerbity.
“There’s no doubt the ladies have avoided you for some time,” said M. Supia, with a grimace intended for a smile.
“If my presence no longer pleases them,” returned the Prince, “they must know that I never force myself upon any one, and if I am here, M. Supia, it is more to have an explanation with them than to accept the personal and pressing invitation which you were kind enough to send me this morning.”
“I asked you to come here, my dear Prince, to set things straight. We have to do with a simple misunderstanding. When you did us the honor of accepting Mme. Supia’s invitations and of returning them by kindly introducing us to circles which we were not in the habit of visiting, Mme. Supia seemed to notice — you will allow me, my dear Prince, to speak out in all sincerity, for I think too highly of you not to deal straightforwardly with you—”
“You have my attention my dear M. Supia.”
“Well, Mme. Supia seemed to notice that our daughter Caroline attracted your attention.”
“Indeed, is that so?”
“Yes. Mme. Supia said to me: ‘Don’t be surprised, Hyacinthe, if Prince Hippothadee comes here often, for Caroline is concerned in this.”
“Obviously. You have a charming home life, M. Supia, and Mlle. Caroline is adorable.”
Collected Works of Gaston Leroux Page 407