Part 24

By dint of searching he found the house he wanted, but he did not reach it without difficulty. It was evidently an abandoned factory. The building was narrow and the side of it was a long wall with many windows and no architectural decoration whatever. None of these windows, which were square, were on the lower floor, where there was no opening but a very miserable entrance-door.

Godefroid supposed that the proprietor had turned the building into a number of small tenements to make it profitable, for a written placard above the door stated that there were “Several rooms to let.” Godefroid rang, but no one came. While he was waiting, a person who went by pointed out to him that the house had another entrance on the boulevard where he might get admittance.

Godefroid followed this advice and saw at the farther end of a little garden which extended along the boulevard a second door to the house. The garden, rather ill-kept, sloped downward, for there was enough difference in level between the boulevard and the rue Notre-Dame des Champs to make it a sort of ditch. Godefroid therefore walked along one of the paths, at the end of which he saw an old woman whose dilapidated garments were in keeping with the house.

“Was it you who rang at the other door?” she asked.

“Yes, madame. Do you show the lodgings?”

On the woman’s replying that she did, Godefroid inquired if the other lodgers were quiet persons; his occupations, he said, were such that he needed silence and peace; he was a bachelor and would be glad to arrange with the portress to do his housekeeping.

On this suggestion the portress assumed a gracious manner.

“Monsieur has fallen on his feet in coming here, then,” she said; “except on the Chaumiere days the boulevard is as lonely as the Pontine marshes.”

“Ah! you know the Pontine marshes?” said Godefroid.

“No, monsieur, I don’t; but I’ve got an old gentleman upstairs whose daughter seems to get her living by being ill, and he says that; I only repeat it. The poor old man will be glad to know that monsieur likes quiet, for a noisy neighbor, he thinks, would kill his daughter. On the second floor we have two writers; they don’t come in till midnight, and are off before eight in the morning. They say they are authors, but I don’t know where or when they write.”

While speaking, the portress was showing Godefroid up one of those horrible stairways of brick and wood so ill put together that it is hard to tell whether the wood is trying to get rid of the bricks or the bricks are trying to get away from the wood; the gaps between them were partly filled up by what was dust in summer and mud in winter. The walls, of cracked and broken plaster, presented to the eye more inscriptions than the Academy of Belles-lettres has yet composed. The portress stopped on the first landing.

“Here, monsieur, are two rooms adjoining each other and very clean, which open opposite to those of Monsieur Bernard; that’s the old gentleman I told you of,--quite a proper person. He is decorated; but it seems he has had misfortunes, for he never wears his ribbon. They formerly had a servant from the provinces, but they sent him away about three years ago; and now the young son of the lady does everything, housework and all.”

Godefroid made a gesture.

“Oh!” cried the Portress, “don’t you be afraid; they won’t say anything to you; they never speak to any one. They came here after the Revolution of July, in 1830. I think they’re provincial folk ruined by the change of government; they are proud, I tell you! and dumb as fishes. For three years, monsieur, I declare they have not let me do the smallest thing for them for fear they should have to pay for it. A hundred sous on New Year’s day, that’s all I get out of them. Talk to me of authors, indeed!”

This gossip made Godefroid hope he should get some assistance out of the woman, who presently said, while praising the healthfulness of the two rooms she offered him, that she was not a portress, but the confidential agent of the proprietor, for whom she managed many of the affairs of the house.

“You may have confidence in me, monsieur, that you may! Madame Vauthier, it is well known, would rather have nothing than a single penny that ought to go to others.”

Madame Vauthier soon came to terms with Godefroid who would not take the rooms unless he could have them by the single month and furnished. These miserable rooms of students and unlucky authors were rented furnished or unfurnished as the case might be. The vast garret which extended over the whole building was filled with such furniture. But Monsieur Bernard, she said, had furnished his own rooms.

In making Madame Vauthier talk, Godefroid discovered she had intended to keep boarders in the building, but for the last five years had not obtained a single lodger of that description. She lived herself on the ground-floor facing towards the boulevard; and looked after the whole house, by the help of a huge mastiff, a stout servant-girl, and a lad who blacked the boots, took care of the rooms, and did the errands.

These two servants were, like herself, in keeping with the poverty of the house, that of the tenants, and the wild and tangled look of the garden. Both were children abandoned by their parents to whom the widow gave food for wages,--and what food! The lad, whom Godefroid caught a glimpse of, wore a ragged blouse and list slippers instead of shoes, and sabots when he went out. With his tousled head, looking like a sparrow when it takes a bath, and his black hands, he went to measure wood at a wood-yard on the boulevard as soon as he had finished the morning work of the house; and after his day’s labor (which ends in wood-yards at half-past four in the afternoon) he returned to his domestic avocations. He went to the fountain of the Observatoire for the water used in the house, which the widow supplied to the tenants, together with bundles of kindling, sawed and tied up by him.

Nepomucene, such was the name of the widow Vauthier’s slave, brought the daily journal to his mistress. In summer the poor forsaken lad was a waiter in the wine-shops at the barrier; and then his mistress dressed him properly.

As for the stout girl, she cooked under direction of the widow, and helped her in another department of industry during the rest of the day; for Madame Vauthier had a business,--she made list shoes, which were bought and sold by pedlers.

Godefroid learned all these details in about an hour’s time; for the widow took him everywhere, and showed him the whole building, explaining its transformation into a dwelling. Until 1828 it had been a nursery for silk-worms, less for the silk than to obtain what they call the eggs. Eleven acres planted with mulberries on the plain of Montrouge, and three acres on the rue de l’Ouest, afterwards built over, had supplied this singular establishment.

Just as the widow was explaining to Godefroid how Monsieur Barbet, having lent money to an Italian named Fresconi, the manager of the business, could recover his money only by foreclosing a mortgage on the building and seizing the three acres on the rue Notre-Dame des Champs, a tall, spare old man with snow-white hair appeared at the end of the street which leads into the square of the rue de l’Ouest.

“Ah! here he comes, just in time!” cried the Vauthier; “that’s your neighbor Monsieur Bernard. Monsieur Bernard!” she called out as soon as the old man was within hearing; “you won’t be alone any longer; here is a gentleman who has hired the rooms opposite to yours.”

Monsieur Bernard turned his eyes on Godefroid with an apprehension it was easy to fathom; the look seemed to say: “The misfortune I feared has come to pass.”

“Monsieur,” he said aloud, “do you intend to live here?”

“Yes, monsieur,” said Godefroid, honestly. “It is not a resort for the fortunate of this earth and it is the least expensive place I can find in the quarter. Madame Vauthier does not pretend to lodge millionnaires. Adieu, for the present, my good Madame Vauthier, and have everything ready for me at six o’clock this evening; I shall return punctually.”

Godefroid turned toward the square of the rue de l’Ouest, walking slowly, for the anxiety depicted on the face of the tall old man made him think that he would follow him and come to an explanation. And, in fact, after an instant’s hesitation Monsieur Bernard turned round and retraced his steps so as to overtake Godefroid.