BOSSUET'S FUNERAL ORATION ON BLONDEAU.
On a certain afternoon, which, as we shall see, has some coincidence with the events recorded above, Laigle de Meaux was sensually leaning against the door-post of the Café Musain. He looked like a caryatid out for a holiday, and having nothing to carry but his reverie. Leaning on one's shoulder is a mode of lying down upright which is not disliked by dreamers. Laigle de Meaux was thinking, without melancholy, of a slight misadventure which had occurred to him on the previous day but one at the Law-school, and modified his personal plans for the future, which, as it was, were somewhat indistinct.
Reverie does not prevent a cabriolet from passing, or a dreamer from noticing the cabriolet. Laigle, whose eyes were absently wandering, saw through this somnambulism a two-wheeled vehicle moving across the Place St. Michel at a foot-pace and apparently undecided. What did this cab want? Why was it going so slowly? Laigle looked at it, and saw inside a young man seated by the side of the driver, and in front of the young man a carpet-bag. The bag displayed to passers-by this name, written in large black letters on the card sewn to the cloth, MARIUS PONTMERCY. This name made Laigle change his attitude: he drew himself up, and shouted to the young man in the cab, "M. Marius Pontmercy!"
The cab stopped, on being thus hailed, and the young man, who also appeared to be thinking deeply, raised his eyes.
"Hilloh!" he said.
"Are you M. Pontmercy?"
"Yes."
"I was looking for you," Laigle of Meaux continued.
"How so?" asked Marius, for it was really he, who had just left his grandfather's and had before him a face which he saw for the first time. "I do not know you."
"And I don't know you either."
Marius fancied that he had to do with a practical joker, and, as he was not in the best of tempers at the moment, frowned. Laigle imperturbably continued,—
"You were not at lecture the day before yesterday!"
"Very possibly."
"It is certain."
"Are you a student?" Marius asked.
"Yes, sir, like yourself. The day before yesterday I entered the Law-school by chance; as you know, a man has an idea like that sometimes. The Professor was engaged in calling over the names, and you are aware how ridiculously strict they are in the school at the present moment. Upon the third call remaining unanswered, your name is erased from the list, and sixty francs are gone."
Marius began to listen, and Laigle continued,—
"It was Blondeau who was calling over. You know Blondeau has a pointed and most malicious nose, and scents the absent with delight. He craftily began with the letter P, and I did not listen, because I was not compromised by that letter. The roll-call went on capitally, there was no erasure, and the universe was present. Blondeau was sad, and I said to myself aside, 'Blondeau, my love, you will not perform the slightest execution to-day,' All at once Blondeau calls out, 'Marius Pontmercy!' No one answered, and so Blondeau, full of hope, repeats in a louder voice,'Marius Pontmercy!' and takes up his pen. I have bowels, sir, and said to myself hurriedly, 'The name of a good fellow is going to be erased. Attention! he is not a proper student, a student who studies, a reading man, a pedantic sap, strong in science, literature, theology, and philosophy. No, he is an honorable idler, who lounges about, enjoys the country, cultivates the grisette, pays his court to the ladies, and is perhaps with my mistress at this moment. I must save him: death to Blondeau!' At this moment Blondeau dipped his pen, black with erasures, into the ink, looked round his audience, and repeated for the third time, 'Marius Pontmercy!' I answered,'Here!' and so your name was not erased."
"Sir!" Marius exclaimed.
"And mine was," Laigle of Meaux added.
"I do not understand you," said Marius.
Laigle continued,—
"And yet it was very simple. I was near the desk to answer, and near the door to bolt. The Professor looked at me with a certain fixedness, and suddenly Blondeau, who must be the crafty nose to which Boileau refers, leaps to the letter L, which is my letter, for I come from Meaux, and my name is L'Aigle."
"L'Aigle!" Marius interrupted, "what a glorious name!"
"Blondeau arrives, sir, at that glorious name, and exclaims 'L'Aigle!' I answer,'Here!' Then Blondeau looks at me with the gentleness of a tiger, smiles, and says,—'If you are Pontmercy you are not Laigle, 'a phrase which appears offensive to you, but which was only lugubrious for me. After saying this, he erased me."
Marius exclaimed,—
"I am really mortified, sir—"
"Before all," Laigle interrupted, "I ask leave to embalm Blondeau in a few phrases of heart-felt praise. I will suppose him dead, and there will not be much to alter in his thinness, paleness, coldness, stiffness, and smell, and I say, Erudimini qui judicatis terram. Here lies Blondeau the nosy, Blondeau Nasica, the ox of discipline, bos disciplinœ, the mastiff of duty, the angel of the roll-call, who was straight, square, exact, rigid, honest, and hideous. God erased him as he erased me."
Marius continued, "I am most grieved—"
"Young man," said Laigle, "let this serve you as a lesson; in future be punctual."
"I offer you a thousand apologies."
"And do not run the risk of getting your neighbor erased."
"I am in despair—"
Laigle burst into a laugh. "And I am enchanted. I was on the downward road to become a lawyer, and this erasure saves me. I renounce the triumphs of the bar. I will not defend the orphan or attack the widow. I have obtained my expulsion, and I am indebted to you for it, M. Pontmercy. I intend to pay you a solemn visit of thanks. Where do you live?"
"In this cab," said Marius.
"A sign of opulence," Laigle remarked calmly; "I congratulate you, for you have apartments at nine thousand francs a year."
At this moment Courfeyrac came out of the café Marius smiled sadly.
"I have been in this lodging for two hours, and am eager to leave it; but I do not know where to go."
"Come home with me," Courfeyrac said to him.
"I ought to have the priority," Laigle observed; "but then I have no home."
"Hold your tongue, Bossuet," Courfeyrac remarked.
"Bossuet!" said Marius. "Why, you told me your name was Laigle."
"Of Meaux," Laigle answered; "metaphorically, Bossuet."
Courfeyrac got into the cab.
"Hôtel de la Porte St Jacques, driver," he said.
The same evening Marius was installed in a room in this house, next door to Courfeyrac.