At the Sign of the Cat and RacketBalzac, Honoré de
General
At the Sign of the Cat and Racket
Balzac, Honoré de
France -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; French fiction -- Translations into English
However, our stranger was certainly not standing there to admire the
cat, which a minute’s attention sufficed to stamp on his memory. The
young man himself had his peculiarities. His cloak, folded after the
manner of an antique drapery, showed a smart pair of shoes, all the more
remarkable in the midst of the Paris mud, because he wore white silk
stockings, on which the splashes betrayed his impatience. He had just
come, no doubt, from a wedding or a ball; for at this early hour he had
in his hand a pair of white gloves, and his black hair, now out of curl,
and flowing over his shoulders, showed that it had been dressed _a la
Caracalla_, a fashion introduced as much by David’s school of painting
as by the mania for Greek and Roman styles which characterized the early
years of this century.
In spite of the noise made by a few market gardeners, who, being late,
rattled past towards the great market-place at a gallop, the busy street
lay in a stillness of which the magic charm is known only to those who
have wandered through deserted Paris at the hours when its roar, hushed
for a moment, rises and spreads in the distance like the great voice
of the sea. This strange young man must have seemed as curious to the
shopkeeping folk of the “Cat and Racket” as the “Cat and Racket” was
to him. A dazzlingly white cravat made his anxious face look even paler
than it really was. The fire that flashed in his black eyes, gloomy
and sparkling by turns, was in harmony with the singular outline of
his features, with his wide, flexible mouth, hardened into a smile. His
forehead, knit with violent annoyance, had a stamp of doom. Is not the
forehead the most prophetic feature of a man? When the stranger’s
brow expressed passion the furrows formed in it were terrible in their
strength and energy; but when he recovered his calmness, so easily
upset, it beamed with a luminous grace which gave great attractiveness
to a countenance in which joy, grief, love, anger, or scorn blazed out
so contagiously that the coldest man could not fail to be impressed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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