The Son of Clemenceau, A Novel of Modern Love and LifeDumas, Alexandre
General
The Son of Clemenceau, A Novel of Modern Love and Life
Dumas, Alexandre
Fiction
"I expect my Italian and French tour to be delightful. But I am not over
the frontier yet, and hardly will be soon if my passport is commented
upon by an authority cognizant of this night's adventure."
"I regret to find that it was deliberately planned," resumed Daniels.
"My daughter's virtue has raised more hostility under this roof than
even her talent. The proprietor is a notorious rascal, but he is too
useful to the profligate among the town officials to be reprimanded. The
police, too, wink at his personal misdoings, because he is always their
friend to deliver the criminals who make this haunt their rendezvous.
All those painted women, as well as the waiter-girls, are spies and
Dalilahs who betray the Samsons of crime to the police at any given
moment. That would be neither here nor there, however, if my daughter
and I were allowed to conclude our engagement--which, believe me, would
never have been signed if we had guessed the character of the resort.
Not only would they lodge me in prison for a pretended attempt to elude
my contract, but they seek to throw my poor Rebecca into the arms of
such reprobates as this Major the Baron. The hag whom you noticed is not
unconcerned in the plot. It is a protégé of hers--a lovely young girl,
guileless in appearance as a cherub, whom they would substitute for my
girl, if she had been detained to-night. In fact--"
He paused. The orchestra had played and two or three vocalists had
appeared and sang, without Claudius, absorbed in this conversation,
noticing that the entertainment had commenced. A little fat man in a
ruffled and embroidered shirt, buff waistcoat with crystal buttons, knee
breeches and silk stockings of reproachless black, and steel buckled
shoes, had come before the curtain, sticking one thumb in his waistband
and the other in his vest armhole, to display a huge seal ring and a
mammoth diamond hoop, respectively, as well as his idea of ease in
company. He announced in a high flute-like voice that in consequence of
indisposition, which a sworn medical affirmation confirmed--here he
raised a laugh by sticking his tongue in his cheek--"La Belle
Stamboulane" would not appear--might have to depart for Constantinople
for convalescence, but that the bewitching Fraulein von Vieradlers--one
of the few authentic _noble_ vocalists on the variety stage--following
in the footsteps of certain princesses--would oblige, for the first time
on any stage, with selections from her repertoire, etc.
This was concerted, for the outburst of applause, started by the most
sinister of aspect among the auditors, was vehement and so contagious
that the _hussah_ was unanimous as the stage-manager retired.
La Belle Stamboulane was already eclipsed! so evanescent is theatrical
fame. Of all the audience, only one felt indignant, and that was the
student Claudius, who had not heard her sing or wear stage costumes!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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