Adventures of the Comte de la Muette during the Reign of TerrorCapes, Bernard
History
Adventures of the Comte de la Muette during the Reign of Terror
Capes, Bernard
France -- History -- Revolution, 1789-1799 -- Fiction
The old man chose his table.
“Sit down, wench,” said he. “My faith! we must dine, though crowns
fall.”
She took her seat with a little peevish sigh.
“Though the stars fell in the street like hail, you would dine,” she
said.
He cocked his head sideways.
“They have fallen, my Carinne. The ruin of them litters the Temple.”
She said doggedly, “_Vive le roi!_” under her breath.
“My God!” he whispered, and called the waiter.
He eyed her askance and nervously as the man came. Some distraught
admiration seemed to mingle with his apprehension of her. She sat
languid and indifferent, and even closed her eyes, with a little
disdainful smile, as he leaned down to her and ran his finger eagerly
over the various items of the bill of fare.
“Ostend oysters, carp fried in milk, sweetbread patty--that is good.
Ragout of the kidneys and combs of cocks--that is very good--Carinne,
see! the ragout! Holy saints, but my pocket! Slice of calf’s head,
turtle fashion--girl, are you listening? Be reckless. Take of all if
you will. I bid thee--thy little uncle, _ma mie_. Slice of--Carinne,
this is better than the cabbages and fried eggs of _Pierrettes_. I
will not care--I will not. Though I have to cut down trees to meet it,
the palate shall have its holiday. Slice of--_mon Dieu_, Carinne! I
ate of it once before in this very house. It melts like the manna of
the Israelites. It does not surfeit, but it forms an easy bed for the
repose of ecstasies more acute.”
The girl broke in with a little high-flung laugh.
“Not trees, but a forest,” she said. “There--choose for me. I am
indifferent.”
“Indifferent! indifferent?--Oh, undeserving of the fine gifts of the
gods!”
He turned to the waiter, his eyes still devouring the _carte_, his
lips silently busy with its contents. Presently he gave his order, sat
down, and remained fixedly gnawing a finger, his face set half in
enjoying contemplation, half in a baffled aggravation of selection.
In only one other direction did the couple appear to arouse curiosity.
The great nerve of the town was all charged with a leaping
electricity, and citizens, staid enough ordinarily, ate now and drank
under an excitement they could barely control.
But, over against me, at a little distance, were two men seated at a
table; and of these one seemed to take a like interest with mine in my
neighbours.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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