My Neighbor Raymond (Novels of Paul de Kock Volume XI)Kock, Paul de
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My Neighbor Raymond (Novels of Paul de Kock Volume XI)
Kock, Paul de
French fiction -- Translations into English
I returned to the dancing enclosure. My invited partner was not there; I
was compelled, therefore, to abandon all hope of finding Caroline. I
watched the throng of honest bourgeois, who, as soon as the last of the
fireworks was discharged, set off for their firesides, content with
their evening's enjoyment, which was to last them throughout the week. I
strolled at random along the avenues, where the colored lanterns were
beginning to flicker and grow dim. Suddenly I heard a little bell, and,
although the hearty laughter of some young people near by, the
whispering of the ladies, and the distant sound of the dance dispelled
all possible illusion touching the reality of the hermitage, I went up
none the less to the abode of the so-called sorcerer, who, with the
assistance of a long beard, a wand, a pointed hat, a gray frock, and a
horn three feet long, undertook to tell fortunes at a very moderate
price.
Young girls have always had a great fondness for having their fortunes
told. Those who are inexperienced are consumed with the longing to know
whether a handsome dark young man or a pretty blond will come soon to
tell them something; those who are not novices are anxious to be
informed as to the fidelity of their lovers, and at the same time to
know whether other men are in love with them; the pretty ones know that
they will make conquests, the ill-favored delude themselves concerning
their charms; desire arouses hope in all, and all are content. I was
agreeably surprised to see my young flowermaker awaiting her turn to
have her fortune told. I walked toward her; she saw me and blushed; that
was a good sign. But her aunt and Monsieur Jules were close by; I could
not speak to her. An idea came into my mind while the soothsayer was
finishing his séance with the young woman who was with Caroline. I took
out my tablets,--a forehanded man always carries them,--withdrew to a
lamp post, and with a lead pencil scrawled a most passionate and
appealing declaration, which was utterly devoid of sense, but would
flatter the girl, I felt sure.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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