第3章

"Thechildhasakeepsakeinhishands,somethingwhichmightbetraythewrongsdonebyyourbeneficence,yourkindnessindesertinghim.Youmighthavetoblushifyousawhimstrugglingforlife,andchancedtorecollectthatonceyouclaspedhimtoyourbreast.Whenyoureadthesewordsthekeepsakewillbeinyourownsafekeeping;youarefreetoforgeteverything.

"Onceyoupointedoutfairhopestomeintheskies,IawaketofindrealityinthesqualidpovertyofParis.Whileyoupass,andothersbowbeforeyou,onyourbrilliantpathinthegreatworld,I,Iwhomyoudesertedonthethreshold,shallbeshiveringinthewretchedgarrettowhichyouconsignedme.Yetsomepangmayperhapstroubleyourmindamidfestivalsandpleasures;youmaythinksometimesofthechildwhomyouthrustintothedepths.Ifso,madame,thinkofhimwithoutremorse.Outofthedepthsofhismiserythechildoffersyoutheonethinglefttohim——hisforgivenessinalastlook.Yes,madame,thankstoyou,Ihavenothingleft.Nothing!wasnottheworldcreatedfromnothing?

GeniusshouldfollowtheDivineexample;IbeginwithGod-likeforgiveness,butasyetIknownotwhetherIpossesstheGod-likepower.YouneedonlytremblelestIshouldgoastray;foryouwouldbeanswerableformysins.Alas!Ipityyou,foryouwillhavenopartinthefuturetowardswhichIgo,withworkasmyguide."

Afterpenningthisrhetoricaleffusion,fullofthesombredignitywhichanartistofone-and-twentyisratherapttooverdo,Lucien"sthoughtswentbacktothemathome.HesawtheprettyroomswhichDavidhadfurnishedforhim,atthecostofpartofhislittlestore,andavisionrosebeforehimofquiet,simplepleasuresinthepast.

Shadowyfigurescameabouthim;hesawhismotherandEveandDavid,andheardtheirsobsoverhisleave-taking,andatthathebegantocryhimself,forhefeltverylonelyinParis,andfriendlessandforlorn.

Twoorthreedayslaterhewrotetohissister:——

"MydearEve,——Whenasistersharesthelifeofabrotherwhodevoteshimselftoart,itishersadprivilegetotakemoresorrowthanjoyintoherlife;andIambeginningtofearthatI

shallbeagreattroubletoyou.HaveInotabusedyourgoodnessalready?havenotallofyousacrificedyourselvestome?Itisthememoryofthepast,sofulloffamilyhappiness,thathelpsmetobearupinmypresentloneliness.NowthatIhavetastedthefirstbeginningsofpovertyandthetreacheryoftheworldofParis,howmythoughtshaveflowntoyou,swiftasaneaglebacktoitseyrie,sothatImightbewithtrueaffectionagain.Didyouseesparksinthecandle?Didacoalpopoutofthefire?Didyouhearsinginginyourears?Anddidmothersay,"Lucienisthinkingofus,"andDavidanswer,"Heisfightinghiswayintheworld?"

"MyEve,Iamwritingthisletterforyoureyesonly.Icannottellanyoneelseallthathashappenedtome,goodandbad,blushingforboth,asIwrite,forgoodhereisasrareaseviloughttobe.Youshallhaveagreatpieceofnewsinaveryfewwords.Mme.deBargetonwasashamedofme,disownedme,wouldnotseeme,andgavemeupninedaysafterwecametoParis.Shesawmeinthestreetandlookedanotherway;when,simplytofollowherintothesocietytowhichshemeanttointroduceme,IhadspentseventeenhundredandsixtyfrancsoutofthetwothousandI

broughtfromAngouleme,themoneysohardlyscrapedtogether."Howdidyouspendit?"youwillask.Parisisastrangebottomlessgulf,mypoorsister;youcandinehereforlessthanafranc,yetthesimplestdinneratafashionablerestaurantcostsfiftyfrancs;therearewaistcoatsandtrouserstobehadforfourfrancsandtwofrancseach;butafashionabletailorneverchargeslessthanahundredfrancs.Youpayforeverything;youpayahalfpennytocrossthekennelinthestreetwhenitrains;youcannotgotheleastlittlewayinacabforlessthanthirty-twosous.

"IhavebeenstayinginoneofthebestpartsofParis,butnowI

amlivingattheHoteldeCluny,intheRuedeCluny,oneofthepoorestanddarkestslums,shutinbetweenthreechurchesandtheoldbuildingsoftheSorbonne.Ihaveafurnishedroomonthefourthfloor;itisverybareandverydirty,but,allthesame,I

payfifteenfrancsamonthforit.ForbreakfastIspendapennyonarollandahalfpennyformilk,butIdineverydecentlyfortwenty-twosousatarestaurantkeptbyamannamedFlicoteauxinthePlacedelaSorbonneitself.Myexpenseseverymonthwillnotexceedsixtyfrancs,everythingincluded,untilthewinterbegins——atleastIhopenot.Somytwohundredandfortyfrancsoughttolastmeforthefirstfourmonths.BetweennowandthenIshallhavesoldTheArcherofCharlesIX.andtheMargueritesnodoubt.

Donotbeintheleastuneasyonmyaccount.Ifthepresentiscoldandbareandpoverty-stricken,thebluedistantfutureisrichandsplendid;mostgreatmenhaveknownthevicissitudeswhichdepressbutcannotoverwhelmme.

"Plautus,thegreatcomicLatinpoet,wasonceamiller"slad.

MachiavelliwroteThePrinceatnight,andbydaywasacommonworking-manlikeanyoneelse;andmorethanall,thegreatCervantes,wholostanarmatthebattleofLepanto,andhelpedtowinthatfamousday,wascalleda"base-born,handlessdotard"bythescribblersofhisday;therewasanintervaloftenyearsbetweentheappearanceofthefirstpartandthesecondofhissublimeDonQuixoteforlackofapublisher.Thingsarenotsobadasthatnowadays.Mortificationsandwantonlyfalltothelotofunknownwriters;assoonasaman"snameisknown,hegrowsrich,andIwillberich.Andbesides,Ilivewithinmyself,IspendhalfthedayattheBibliothequeSainte-Genevieve,learningallthatIwanttolearn;IshouldnotgofarunlessIknewmorethanIdo.SoatthismomentIamalmosthappy.InafewdaysIhavefalleninwithmylifeverygladly.IbegintheworkthatIlovewithdaylight,mysubsistenceissecure,Ithinkagreatdeal,andIstudy.IdonotseethatIamopentoattackatanypoint,nowthatIhaverenouncedaworldwheremyvanitymightsufferatanymoment.Thegreatmenofeveryageareobligedtoleadlivesapart.Whataretheybutbirdsintheforest?Theysing,naturefallsunderthespelloftheirsong,andnooneshouldseethem.

Thatshallbemylot,alwayssupposingthatIcancarryoutmyambitiousplans.

"Mme.deBargetonIdonotregret.Awomanwhocouldbehaveasshebehaveddoesnotdeserveathought.NoramIsorrythatIleftAngouleme.ShedidwiselywhensheflungmeintotheseaofParistosinkorswim.Thisistheplaceformenoflettersandthinkersandpoets;hereyoucultivateglory,andIknowhowfairtheharvestisthatwereapinthesedays.Nowhereelsecanawriterfindthelivingworksofthegreatdead,theworksofartwhichquickentheimaginationinthegalleriesandmuseumshere;nowhereelsewillyoufindgreatreferencelibrariesalwaysopeninwhichtheintellectmayfindpasture.Andlastly,hereinParisthereisaspiritwhichyoubreatheintheair;itinfusestheleastdetails,everyliterarycreationbearstracesofitsinfluence.

Youlearnmorebytalkinacafe,oratatheatre,inonehalfhour,thanyouwouldlearnintenyearsintheprovinces.Here,intruth,whereveryougo,thereisalwayssomethingtosee,somethingtolearn,somecomparisontomake.Extremecheapnessandexcessivedearness——thereisParisforyou;thereishoneycombhereforeverybee,everynaturefindsitsownnourishment.So,thoughlifeishardformejustnow,Irepentofnothing.Onthecontrary,afairfuturespreadsoutbeforeme,andmyheartrejoicesthoughitissaddenedforthemoment.Good-byemydearsister.Donotexpectlettersfrommeregularly;itisoneofthepeculiaritiesofParisthatonereallydoesnotknowhowthetimegoes.Lifeissoalarminglyrapid.IkissthemotherandyouandDavidmoretenderlythanever."

ThenameofFlicoteauxisengravedonmanymemories.FewindeedwerethestudentswholivedintheLatinQuarterduringthelasttwelveyearsoftheRestorationanddidnotfrequentthattemplesacredtohungerandimpecuniosity.Thereadinnerofthreecourses,withaquarterbottleofwineorabottleofbeer,couldbehadforeighteensous;orfortwenty-twosousthequarterbottlebecomesabottle.

Flicoteaux,thatfriendofyouth,wouldbeyondadoubthaveamassedacolossalfortunebutforalineonhisbilloffare,alinewhichrivalestablishmentsarewonttoprintincapitalletters,thus——BREAD

ATDISCRETION,which,beinginterpreted,shouldread"indiscretion."

Flicoteauxhasbeennursing-fathertomanyanillustriousname.

Verily,theheartofmorethanonegreatmanoughttowaxwarmwithinnumerablerecollectionsofinexpressibleenjoymentatthesightofthesmall,squarewindowpanesthatlookuponthePlacedelaSorbonne,andtheRueNeuve-de-Richelieu.FlicoteauxII.andFlicoteauxIII.respectedtheoldexterior,maintainingthedingyhueandgeneralairofarespectable,old-establishedhouse,showingtherebythedepthoftheircontemptforthecharlatanismoftheshop-

front,thekindofadvertisementwhichfeaststheeyesattheexpenseofthestomach,towhichyourmodernrestaurantalmostalwayshasrecourse.Hereyoubeheldnopilesofstraw-stuffedgameneverdestinedtomaketheacquaintanceofthespit,nofantasticalfishtojustifythemountebank"sremark,"Isawafinecarpto-day;Iexpecttobuyitthisdayweek."Insteadoftheprimevegetablesmorefittinglydescribedbythewordprimeval,artfullydisplayedinthewindowforthedelectationofthemilitarymanandhisfellowcountry-

womanthenursemaid,honestFlicoteauxexhibitedfullsalad-bowlsadornedwithmanyarivet,orpyramidsofstewedprunestorejoicethesightofthecustomer,andassurehimthattheword"dessert,"withwhichotherhandbillsmadetoofree,wasinthiscasenochartertohoodwinkthepublic.Loavesofsixpounds"weight,cutinfourquarters,madegoodthepromiseof"breadatdiscretion."Suchwastheplentyoftheestablishment,thatMolierewouldhavecelebrateditifithadbeeninexistenceinhisday,socomicallyappropriateisthename.

Flicoteauxstillsubsists;solongasstudentsaremindedtolive,Flicoteauxwillmakealiving.Youfeedthere,neithermorenorless;

andyoufeedasyouwork,withmoroseorcheerfulindustry,accordingtothecircumstancesandthetemperament.

Atthattimehiswell-knownestablishmentconsistedoftwodining-

halls,atrightanglestoeachother;long,narrow,low-ceiledrooms,lookingrespectivelyontheRueNeuve-de-RichelieuandthePlacedelaSorbonne.Thefurnituremusthavecomeoriginallyfromtherefectoryofsomeabbey,fortherewasamonasticlookaboutthelengthytables,wheretheserviettesofregularcustomers,eachthrustthroughanumberedringofcrystallizedtinplate,werelaidbytheirplaces.

FlicoteauxI.onlychangedtheserviettesofaSunday;butFlicoteauxII.changedthemtwiceaweek,itissaid,underpressureofcompetitionwhichthreatenedhisdynasty.

Flicoteaux"srestaurantisnobanqueting-hall,withitsrefinementsandluxuries;itisaworkshopwheresuitabletoolsareprovided,andeverybodygetsupandgoesassoonashehasfinished.Thecomingandgoingwithinareswift.Thereisnodawdlingamongthewaiters;theyareallbusy;everyoneofthemiswanted.

Thefareisnotveryvaried.Thepotatoisapermanentinstitution;

theremightnotbeasingletuberleftinIreland,andprevailingdearthelsewhere,butyouwouldstillfindpotatoesatFlicoteaux"s.

Notonceinthirtyyearsshallyoumissitspalegold(thecolorbelovedofTitian),sprinkledwithchoppedverdure;thepotatoenjoysaprivilegethatwomenmightenvy;suchasyouseeitin1814,soshallyoufinditin1840.MuttoncutletsandfilletofbeefatFlicoteaux"srepresentblackgameandfilletofsturgeonatVery"s;

theyarenotontheregularbilloffare,thatis,andmustbeorderedbeforehand.Beefofthefemininegenderthereprevails;theyoungofthebovinespeciesappearsinallkindsofingeniousdisguises.Whenthewhitingandmackerelaboundonourshores,theyarelikewiseseeninlargenumbersatFlicoteaux"s;hiswholeestablishment,indeed,isdirectlyaffectedbythecapricesoftheseasonandthevicissitudesofFrenchagriculture.ByeatingyourdinnersatFlicoteaux"syoulearnahostofthingsofwhichthewealthy,theidle,andfolkindifferenttothephasesofNaturehavenosuspicion,andthestudentpennedupintheLatinQuarteriskeptaccuratelyinformedofthestateoftheweatherandgoodorbadseasons.HeknowswhenitisagoodyearforpeasorFrenchbeans,andthekindofsaladstuffthatisplentiful;whentheGreatMarketisgluttedwithcabbages,heisatonceawareofthefact,andthefailureofthebeetrootcropisbroughthometohismind.Aslander,oldincirculationinLucien"stime,connectedtheappearanceofbeef-steakswithamortalityamonghorseflesh.

FewParisianrestaurantsaresowellworthseeing.EveryoneatFlicoteaux"sisyoung;youseenothingbutyouth;andalthoughearnestfacesandgrave,gloomy,anxiousfacesarenotlacking,youseehopeandconfidenceandpovertygailyendured.Dress,asarule,iscareless,andregularcomersindecentclothesaremarkedexceptions.

Everybodyknowsatoncethatsomethingextraordinaryisafoot:amistresstovisit,atheatreparty,orsomeexcursionintohigherspheres.Here,itissaid,friendshipshavebeenmadeamongstudentswhobecamefamousmeninafterdays,aswillbeseeninthecourseofthisnarrative;butwiththeexceptionofafewknotsofyoungfellowsfromthesamepartofFrancewhomakeagroupabouttheendofatable,thegravityofthedinersishardlyrelaxed.Perhapsthisgravityisduetothecatholicityofthewine,whichchecksgoodfellowshipofanykind.

Flicoteaux"sfrequentersmayrecollectcertainsombreandmysteriousfiguresenvelopedinthegloomofthechilliestpenury;thesebeingswoulddinetheredailyforacoupleofyearsandthenvanish,andthemostinquisitiveregularcomercouldthrownolightonthedisappearanceofsuchgoblinsofParis.FriendshipsstruckupoverFlicoteaux"sdinnersweresealedinneighboringcafesintheflamesofheadypunch,orbythegenerouswarmthofasmallcupofblackcoffeeglorifiedbyadashofsomethinghotterandstronger.

Lucien,likeallneophytes,wasmodestandregularinhishabitsinthoseearlydaysattheHoteldeCluny.Afterthefirstunluckyventureinfashionablelifewhichabsorbedhiscapital,hethrewhimselfintohisworkwiththefirstearnestenthusiasm,whichisfritteredawaysosoonoverthedifficultiesorintheby-pathsofeverylifeinParis.Themostluxuriousandtheverypoorestlivesareequallybesetwithtemptationswhichnothingbutthefierceenergyofgeniusorthemorosepersistenceofambitioncanovercome.

LucienusedtodropinatFlicoteaux"sabouthalf-pastfour,havingremarkedtheadvantagesofanearlyarrival;thebill-of-farewasmorevaried,andtherewasstillsomechanceofobtainingthedishofyourchoice.Likeallimaginativepersons,hehadtakenafancytoaparticularseat,andshoweddiscriminationinhisselection.Ontheveryfirstdayhehadnoticedatablenearthecounter,andfromthefacesofthosewhosataboutit,andchancesnatchesoftheirtalk,herecognizedbrothersofthecraft.Asortofinstinct,moreover,pointedoutthetablenearthecounterasaspotwhencehecouldparlaywiththeownersoftherestaurant.Intimeanacquaintancewouldgrowup,hethought,andtheninthedayofdistresshecouldnodoubtobtainthenecessarycredit.Sohetookhisplaceatasmallsquaretableclosetothedesk,intendedprobablyforcasualcomers,forthetwocleanservietteswereunadornedwithrings.Lucien"soppositeneighborwasathin,pallidyouth,toallappearanceaspoorashimself;hishandsomefacewassomewhatworn,alreadyittoldofhopesthathadvanished,leavinglinesuponhisforeheadandbarrenfurrowsinhissoul,whereseedshadbeensownthathadcometonothing.Lucienfeltdrawntothestrangerbythesetokens;hissympathieswentouttohimwithirresistiblefervor.

Afteraweek"sexchangeofsmallcourtesiesandremarks,thepoetfromAngoulemefoundthefirstpersonwithwhomhecouldchat.Thestranger"snamewasEtienneLousteau.Twoyearsagohehadlefthisnativeplace,atowninBerri,justasLucienhadcomefromAngouleme.

Hislivelygestures,brighteyes,andoccasionallycurtspeechrevealedabitterapprenticeshiptoliterature.EtiennehadcomefromSancerrewithhistragedyinhispocket,drawntoParisbythesamemotivesthatimpelledLucien——hopeoffameandpowerandmoney.

SometimesEtienneLousteaucameforseveraldaystogether;butinalittlewhilehisvisitsbecamefewandfarbetween,andhewouldstayawayforfiveorsixdaysinsuccession.Thenhewouldcomeback,andLucienwouldhopetoseehispoetnextday,onlytofindastrangerinhisplace.Whentwoyoungmenmeetdaily,theirtalkharksbacktotheirlastconversation;butthesecontinualinterruptionsobligedLucientobreaktheiceafresheachtime,andfurthercheckedanintimacywhichmadelittleprogressduringthefirstfewweeks.Oninquiryofthedamselatthecounter,Lucienwastoldthathisfuturefriendwasonthestaffofasmallnewspaper,andwrotereviewsofbooksanddramaticcriticismofpiecesplayedattheAmbigu-Comique,theGaite,andthePanorama-Dramatique.TheyoungmanbecameapersonageallatonceinLucien"seyes.Now,hethought,hewouldleadtheconversationonrathermorepersonaltopics,andmakesomeefforttogainafriendsolikelytobeusefultoabeginner.Thejournaliststayedawayforafortnight.LuciendidnotknowthatEtienneonlydinedatFlicoteaux"swhenhewashardup,andhencehisgloomyairofdisenchantmentandthechillymanner,whichLucienmetwithgracioussmilesandamiableremarks.But,afterall,theprojectofafriendshipcalledformaturedeliberation.Thisobscurejournalistappearedtoleadanexpensivelifeinwhichpetitsverres,cupsofcoffee,punch-bowls,sight-seeing,andsuppersplayedapart.IntheearlydaysofLucien"slifeintheLatinQuarter,hebehavedlikeapoorchildbewilderedbyhisfirstexperienceofParislife;sothatwhenhehadmadeastudyofpricesandweighedhispurse,helackedcouragetomakeadvancestoEtienne;hewasafraidofbeginningafreshseriesofblundersofwhichhewasstillrepenting.Andhewasstillundertheyokeofprovincialcreeds;histwoguardianangels,EveandDavid,roseupbeforehimattheleastapproachofanevilthought,puttinghiminmindofallthehopesthatwerecenteredonhim,ofthehappinessthatheowedtotheoldmother,ofallthepromisesofhisgenius.

HespenthismorningsinstudyinghistoryattheBibliothequeSainte-

Genevieve.HisveryfirstresearchesmadehimawareoffrightfulerrorsinthememoirsofTheArcherofCharlesIX.Whenthelibraryclosed,hewentbacktohisdamp,chillyroomtocorrecthiswork,cuttingoutwholechaptersandpiecingittogetheranew.AndafterdiningatFlicoteaux"s,hewentdowntothePassageduCommercetoseethenewspapersatBlosse"sreading-room,aswellasnewbooksandmagazinesandpoetry,soastokeephimselfinformedofthemovementsoftheday.Andwhen,towardsmidnight,hereturnedtohiswretchedlodgings,hehadusedneitherfuelnorcandle-light.Hisreadinginthosedaysmadesuchanenormouschangeinhisideas,thatherevisedthevolumeofflower-sonnets,hisbelovedMarguerites,workingthemovertosuchpurpose,thatscarceahundredlinesoftheoriginalverseswereallowedtostand.

SointhebeginningLucienledthehonest,innocentlifeofthecountryladwhoneverleavestheLatinQuarter;devotinghimselfwhollytohiswork,withthoughtsofthefuturealwaysbeforehim;whofindsFlicoteaux"sordinaryluxuriousafterthesimplehome-fare;andstrollsforrecreationalongthealleysoftheLuxembourg,thebloodsurgingbacktohisheartashegivestimidsideglancestotheprettywomen.Butthiscouldnotlast.Lucien,withhispoetictemperamentandboundlesslongings,couldnotwithstandthetemptationsheldoutbytheplay-bills.

TheTheatre-Francais,theVaudeville,theVarietes,theOpera-Comiquerelievedhimofsomesixtyfrancs,althoughhealwayswenttothepit.

WhatstudentcoulddenyhimselfthepleasureofseeingTalmainoneofhisfamousroles?Lucienwasfascinatedbythetheatre,thatfirstloveofallpoetictemperaments;theactorsandactresseswereawe-

inspiringcreatures;hedidnotsomuchasdreamofthepossibilityofcrossingthefootlightsandmeetingthemonfamiliarterms.Themenandwomenwhogavehimsomuchpleasureweresurelymarvelousbeings,whomthenewspaperstreatedwithasmuchgravityasmattersofnationalinterest.Tobeadramaticauthor,tohaveaplayproducedonthestage!Whatadreamwasthistocherish!AdreamwhichafewboldspiritslikeCasimirDelavignehadactuallyrealized.Thickswarmingthoughtslikethese,andmomentsofbeliefinhimself,followedbydespairgaveLuciennorest,andkepthiminthenarrowwayoftoilandfrugality,inspiteofthesmotheredgrumblingsofmorethanonefrenzieddesire.

Carryingprudencetoanextreme,hemadeitarulenevertoentertheprecinctsofthePalaisRoyal,thatplaceofperditionwherehehadspentfiftyfrancsatVery"sinasingleday,andnearlyfivehundredfrancsonhisclothes;andwhenheyieldedtotemptation,andsawFleury,Talma,thetwoBaptistes,orMichot,hewentnofurtherthanthemurkypassagewheretheatre-goersusedtostandinastringfromhalf-pastfiveintheafternoontillthehourwhenthedoorsopened,andbelatedcomerswerecompelledtopaytensousforaplaceneartheticket-office.Andafterwaitingfortwohours,thecryof"Allticketsaresold!"rangnotunfrequentlyintheearsofdisappointedstudents.Whentheplaywasover,Lucienwenthomewithdowncasteyes,throughstreetslinedwithlivingattractions,andperhapsfellinwithoneofthosecommonplaceadventureswhichloomsolargeinayoungandtimorousimagination.

OnedayLuciencountedoverhisremainingstockofmoney,andtookalarmatthemeltingofhisfunds;acoldperspirationbrokeoutuponhimwhenhethoughtthatthetimehadcomewhenhemustfindapublisher,andtryalsotofindworkforwhichapublisherwouldpayhim.Theyoungjournalist,withwhomhehadmadeaone-sidedfriendship,nevercamenowtoFlicoteaux"s.Lucienwaswaitingforachance——whichfailedtopresentitself.InParistherearenochancesexceptformenwithaverywidecircleofacquaintance;chancesofsuccessofeverykindincreasewiththenumberofyourconnections;

and,therefore,inthissensealsothechancesareinfavorofthebigbattalions.Lucienhadsufficientprovincialforesightstillleft,andhadnomindtowaituntilonlyalastfewcoinsremainedtohim.Heresolvedtofacethepublishers.

SoonetolerablychillySeptembermorningLucienwentdowntheRuedelaHarpe,withhistwomanuscriptsunderhisarm.AshemadehiswaytotheQuaidesAugustins,andwentalong,lookingintothebooksellers"windowsononesideandintotheSeineontheother,hisgoodgeniusmighthavecounseledhimtopitchhimselfintothewatersoonerthanplungeintoliterature.Afterheart-searchinghesitations,afteraprofoundscrutinyofthevariouscountenances,moreorlessencouraging,soft-hearted,churlish,cheerful,ormelancholy,tobeseenthroughthewindowpanes,orinthedoorwaysofthebooksellers"

establishments,heespiedahousewheretheshopmenwerebusypackingbooksatagreatrate.Goodswerebeingdespatched.Thewallswereplasteredwithbills:

JUSTOUT.

LESOLITAIRE,byM.leVicomted"Arlincourt.

Thirdedition.

LEONIDE,byVictorDucange;fivevolumes12mo,printedonfinepaper.12francs.

INDUCTIONSMORALES,byKeratry.

"Theyarelucky,thattheyare!"exclaimedLucien.

Theplacard,anewandoriginalideaofthecelebratedLadvocat,wasjustbeginningtoblossomoutuponthewalls.InnolongspacePariswastowearmotley,thankstotheexertionsofhisimitators,andtheTreasurywastodiscoveranewsourceofrevenue.

AnxietysentthebloodsurgingtoLucien"sheart,ashewhohadbeensogreatatAngouleme,soinsignificantoflateinParis,slippedpasttheotherhouses,summonedupallhiscourage,andatlastenteredtheshopthrongedwithassistants,customers,andbooksellers——"Andauthorstoo,perhaps!"thoughtLucien.

"IwanttospeakwithM.VidalorM.Porchon,"hesaid,addressingashopman.Hehadreadthenamesonthesign-board——VIDAL&PORCHON(itran),Frenchandforeignbooksellers"agents.

"Bothgentlemenareengaged,"saidtheman.

"Iwillwait."

Lefttohimself,thepoetscrutinizedthepackages,andamusedhimselfforacoupleofhoursbyscanningthetitlesofbooks,lookingintothem,andreadingapageortwohereandthere.Atlast,ashestoodleaningagainstawindow,heheardvoices,andsuspectingthatthegreencurtainshideitherVidalorPorchon,helistenedtotheconversation.

"Willyoutakefivehundredcopiesofme?Ifyouwill,Iwillletyouhavethematfivefrancs,andgivefourteentothedozen."

"Whatdoesthatbringtheminat?"

"Sixteensousless."

"Fourfrancsfoursous?"saidVidalorPorchon,whicheveritwas.

"Yes,"saidthevendor.

"Credityouraccount?"inquiredthepurchaser.

"Oldhumbug!youwouldsettlewithmeineighteenmonths"time,withbillsatatwelvemonth."

"No.Settledatonce,"returnedVidalorPorchon.

"Billsatninemonths?"askedthepublisherorauthor,whoevidentlywassellinghisbook.

"No,mydearfellow,twelvemonths,"returnedoneofthefirmofbooksellers"agents.

Therewasapause.

"Youaresimplycuttingmythroat!"saidthevisitor.

"Butinayear"stimeshallwehaveplacedahundredcopiesofLeonide?"saidtheothervoice."Ifbookswentoffasfastasthepublisherswouldlike,weshouldbemillionaires,mygoodsir;buttheydon"t,theygoasthepublicpleases.ThereissomeonenowbringingoutaneditionofScott"snovelsateighteensouspervolume,threelivrestwelvesouspercopy,andyouwantmetogiveyoumoreforyourstaleremainders?No.Ifyoumeanmetopushthisnovelofyours,youmustmakeitworthmywhile——Vidal!"

Astoutman,withapenbehindhisear,camedownfromhisdesk.

"HowmanycopiesofDucangedidyouplacelastjourney?"askedPorchonofhispartner.

"TwohundredofLePetitVieillarddeCalais,buttosellthemIwasobligedtocrydowntwobookswhichpayinlesscommission,anduncommonlyfine"nightingales"theyarenow.

(A"nightingale,"asLucienafterwardslearned,isabookseller"snameforbooksthatlingeronhand,perchedoutofsightintheloneliestnooksintheshop.)

"Andbesides,"addedVidal,"Picardisbringingoutsomenovels,asyouknow.Wehavebeenpromisedtwentypercentonthepublishedpricetomakethethingasuccess."

"Verywell,attwelvemonths,"thepublisheransweredinapiteousvoice,thunderstruckbyVidal"sconfidentialremark.

"Isitanoffer?"Porchoninquiredcurtly.

"Yes."Thestrangerwentout.Afterhehadgone,LucienheardPorchonsaytoVidal:

"Wehavethreehundredcopiesonordernow.Wewillkeephimwaitingforhissettlement,selltheLeonidesforfivefrancsnet,settlementinsixmonths,and——"

"Andthatwillbefifteenhundredfrancsintoourpockets,"saidVidal.

"Oh,Isawquitewellthathewasinafix.HeisgivingDucangefourthousandfrancsfortwothousandcopies."

LuciencutVidalshortbyappearingintheentranceoftheden.

"Ihavethehonorofwishingyouagoodday,gentlemen,"hesaid,addressingbothpartners.Thebooksellersnoddedslightly.

"IhaveaFrenchhistoricalromanceafterthestyleofScott.ItiscalledTheArcherofCharlesIX.;Iproposetoofferittoyou——"

PorchonglancedatLucienwithlustrelesseyes,andlaidhispendownonthedesk.Vidalstaredrudelyattheauthor.

"Wearenotpublishingbooksellers,sir;wearebooksellers"agents,"

hesaid."Whenwebringoutabookourselves,weonlydealinwell-

knownnames;andweonlytakeseriousliteraturebesides——historyandepitomes."

"Butmybookisveryserious.ItisanattempttosetthestrugglebetweenCatholicsandCalvinistsinitstruelight;theCatholicsweresupportersofabsolutemonarchy,andtheProtestantsforarepublic."

"M.Vidal!"shoutedanassistant.Vidalfled.

"Idon"tsay,sir,thatyourbookisnotamasterpiece,"repliedPorchon,withscantycivility,"butweonlydealinbooksthatarereadyprinted.Goandseesomebodythatbuysmanuscripts.ThereisoldDoguereauintheRueduCoq,neartheLouvre,heisintheromanceline.Ifyouhadonlyspokensooner,youmighthaveseenPollet,acompetitorofDoguereauandofthepublisherintheWoodenGalleries."

"Ihaveavolumeofpoetry——"

"M.Porchon!"somebodyshouted.

"POETRY!"Porchonexclaimedangrily."Forwhatdoyoutakeme?"headded,laughinginLucien"sface.Andhedivedintotheregionsofthebackshop.

LucienwentbackacrossthePontNeufabsorbedinreflection.Fromallthatheunderstoodofthismercantiledialect,itappearedthatbooks,likecottonnightcaps,weretoberegardedasarticlesofmerchandisetobesolddearandboughtcheap.

"Ihavemadeamistake,"saidLucientohimself;but,allthesame,thisrough-and-readypracticalaspectofliteraturemadeanimpressionuponhim.

IntheRueduCoqhestoppedinfrontofamodest-lookingshop,whichhehadpassedbefore.HesawtheinscriptionDOGUEREAU,BOOKSELLER,paintedaboveitinyellowlettersonagreenground,andrememberedthathehadseenthenameatthefootofthetitle-pageofseveralnovelsatBlosse"sreading-room.Inhewent,notwithouttheinwardtrepidationwhichamanofanyimaginationfeelsattheprospectofabattle.Insidetheshophediscoveredanodd-lookingoldman,oneofthequeercharactersofthetradeinthedaysoftheEmpire.

Doguereauworeablackcoatwithvastsquareskirts,whenfashionrequiredswallow-tailcoats.Hiswaistcoatwasofsomecheapmaterial,acheckedpatternofmanycolors;asteelchain,withacopperkeyattachedtoit,hungfromhisfobanddangleddownoveraroomypairofblacknethergarments.Thebooksellers"watchmusthavebeenthesizeofanonion.Iron-grayribbedstockings,andshoeswithsilverbucklescompletediscostume.Theoldman"sheadwasbare,andornamentedwithafringeofgrizzledlocks,quitepoeticallyscanty.

"OldDoguereau,"asPorchonstyledhim,wasdressedhalflikeaprofessorofbelles-lettresastohistrousersandshoes,halflikeatradesmanwithrespecttothevariegatedwaistcoat,thestockings,andthewatch;andthesameoddmixtureappearedinthemanhimself.Heunitedthemagisterial,dogmaticair,andthehollowcountenanceoftheprofessorofrhetoricwiththesharpeyes,suspiciousmouth,andvagueuneasinessofthebookseller.

"M.Doguereau?"askedLucien.

"Thatismyname,sir."

"Youareveryyoung,"remarkedthebookseller.

"Myage,sir,hasnothingtodowiththematter."

"True,"andtheoldbooksellertookupthemanuscript."Ah,begad!TheArcherofCharlesIX.,agoodtitle.Letusseenow,youngman,justtellmeyoursubjectinawordortwo."

"Itisahistoricalwork,sir,inthestyleofScott.ThecharacterofthestrugglebetweentheProtestantsandCatholicsisdepictedasastrugglebetweentwoopposedsystemsofgovernment,inwhichthethroneisseriouslyendangered.IhavetakentheCatholicside."

"Eh!butyouhaveideas,youngman.Verywell,Iwillreadyourbook,Ipromiseyou.IwouldratherhavehadsomethingmoreinMrs.

Radcliffe"sstyle;butifyouareindustrious,ifyouhavesomenotionofstyle,conceptions,ideas,andtheartoftellingastory,Idon"taskbetterthantobeofusetoyou.Whatdowewantbutgoodmanuscripts?"

"WhencanIcomeback?"

"Iamgoingintothecountrythisevening;Ishallbebackagainthedayafterto-morrow.Ishallhavereadyourmanuscriptbythattime;

andifitsuitsme,wemightcometotermsthatveryday."

Seeinghisacquaintancesoeasy,LucienwasinspiredwiththeunluckyideaofbringingtheMargueritesuponthescene.

"Ihaveavolumeofpoetryaswell,sir——"hebegan.

"Oh!youareapoet!ThenIdon"twantyourromance,"andtheoldmanhandedbackthemanuscript."Therhymingfellowscometogriefwhentheytrytheirhandsatprose.Inproseyoucan"tusewordsthatmeannothing;youabsolutelymustsaysomething."

"ButSirWalterScott,sir,wrotepoetryaswellas——"

"Thatistrue,"saidDoguereau,relenting.Heguessedthattheyoungfellowbeforehimwaspoor,andkeptthemanuscript."Wheredoyoulive?Iwillcomeandseeyou."

Lucien,allunsuspiciousoftheideaatthebackoftheoldman"shead,gavehisaddress;hedidnotseethathehadtodowithabookselleroftheoldschool,asurvivaloftheeighteenthcentury,whenbooksellerstriedtokeepVoltairesandMontesquieusstarvingingarretsunderlockandkey.

"TheLatinQuarter.Iamcomingbackthatveryway,"saidDoguereau,whenhehadreadtheaddress.

"Goodman!"thoughtLucien,ashetookhisleave."SoIhavemetwithafriendtoyoungauthors,amanoftastewhoknowssomething.Thatisthekindofmanforme!ItisjustasIsaidtoDavid——talentsoonmakesitswayinParis."

Lucienwenthomeagainhappyandlightofheart;hedreamedofglory.

HegavenotanotherthoughttotheominouswordswhichfellonhisearashestoodbythecounterinVidalandPorchon"sshop;hebeheldhimselfthericherbytwelvehundredfrancsatleast.Twelvehundredfrancs!ItmeantayearinParis,awholeyearofpreparationfortheworkthathemeanttodo.Whatplanshebuiltonthathope!Whatsweetdreams,whatvisionsofalifeestablishedonabasisofwork!

Mentallyhefoundnewquarters,andsettledhimselfinthem;itwouldnothavetakenmuchtosethimmakingapurchaseortwo.HecouldonlystaveoffimpatiencebyconstantreadingatBlosse"s.

TwodayslateroldDoguereaucometothelodgingsofhisbuddingSirWalterScott.HewasstruckwiththepainswhichLucienhadtakenwiththestyleofthishisfirstwork,delightedwiththestrongcontrastsofcharactersanctionedbytheepoch,andsurprisedatthespiritedimaginationwhichayoungwriteralwaysdisplaysintheschemingofafirstplot——hehadnotbeenspoiled,thoughtoldDaddyDoguereau.HehadmadeuphismindtogiveathousandfrancsforTheArcherofCharlesIX.;hewouldbuythecopyrightoutandout,andbindLucienbyanengagementforseveralbooks,butwhenhecametolookatthehouse,theoldfoxthoughtbetterofit.

"Ayoungfellowthatlivesherehasnonebutsimpletastes,"saidhetohimself;"heisfondofstudy,fondofwork;Ineednotgivemorethaneighthundredfrancs."

"Fourthfloor,"answeredthelandlady,whenheaskedforM.LuciendeRubempre.Theoldbookseller,peeringup,sawnothingbuttheskyabovethefourthfloor.