LXXIV

Wait a bit, gentlemen, said Villemot. "Do you know that you are turning the universal legatee out of doors, and as yet his right has not been called in question?"

Yes, it has, said Fraisier; "we are opposing the transfer of the property."

And upon what grounds?

You shall know that by and by, my boy, Fraisier replied, banteringly. "At this moment, if the legatee withdraws everything that he declares to be his, we shall raise no objections, but the room itself will be sealed. And M. Schmucke may lodge where he pleases."

No, said Villemot; "M. Schmucke is going to stay in his room."

And how?

I shall demand an immediate special inquiry, continued Villemot, "and prove that we pay half the rent. You shall not turn us out. Take away the pictures, decide on the ownership of the various articles, but here my client stops—'my boy.'"

I shall go out! the old musician suddenly said. He had recovered energy during the odious dispute.

You had better, said Fraisier. "Your course will save expense to you, for your contention would not be made good. The lease is evidence—"

The lease! the lease! cried Villemot, "it is a question of good faith—"

That could only be proved in a criminal case, by calling witnesses.—Do you mean to plunge into experts' fees and verifications, and orders to show cause why judgment should not be given, and law proceedings generally?

No, no! cried Schmucke in dismay. "I shall turn out; I am used to it—"

In practice Schmucke was a philosopher, an unconscious cynic, so greatly had he simplified his life. Two pairs of shoes, a pair of boots, a couple of suits of clothes, a dozen shirts, a dozen bandana handkerchiefs, four waistcoats, a superb pipe given to him by Pons, with an embroidered tobacco-pouch—these were all his belongings. Overwrought by a fever of indignation, he went into his room and piled his clothes upon a chair.

All dese are mine, he said, with simplicity worthy of Cincinnatus. "Der biano is also mine."

Fraisier turned to La Sauvage. "Madame, get help," he said;"take that piano out and put it on the landing."

You are too rough into the bargain, said Villemot, addressing Fraisier. "The justice of the peace gives orders here; he is supreme."

There are valuables in the room, put in the clerk.

And besides, added the justice of the peace, "M. Schmucke is going out of his own free will."

Did any one ever see such a client! Villemot cried indignantly, turning upon Schmucke. "You are as limp as a rag—"

Vat dos it matter vere von dies? Schmucke said as he went out. "Dese men haf tiger faces.... I shall send somebody to vetch mein bits of dings."

Where are you going, sir?

Vere it shall blease Gott, returned Pons' universal legatee with supreme indifference.

Send me word, said Villemot.

Fraisier turned to the head-clerk. "Go after him," he whispered.

Mme. Cantinet was left in charge, with a provision of fifty francs paid out of the money that they found.

The justice of the peace looked out; there Schmucke stood in the courtyard looking up at the windows for the last time. "You have found a man of butter," remarked the justice.

Yes, said Fraisier, "yes. The thing is as good as done. You need not hesitate to marry your granddaughter to Poulain; he will be head-surgeon at the Quinze-Vingts." (The Asylum founded by St. Louis for three hundred blind people.)

We shall see.—Good-day, M. Fraisier, said the justice of the peace with a friendly air.

There is a man with a head on his shoulders, remarked the justice's clerk. "The dog will go a long way."

By this time it was eleven o'clock. The old German went like an automaton down the road along which Pons and he had so often walked together. Wherever he went he saw Pons, he almost thought that Pons was by his side; and so he reached the theatre just as his friend Topinard was coming out of it after a morning spent in cleaning the lamps and meditating on the manager's tyranny.

Oh, shoost der ding for me! cried Schmucke, stopping his acquaintance. "Dopinart! you haf a lodging someveres, eh?"

Yes, sir.

A home off your own?

Yes, sir.

Are you villing to take me for ein poarder? Oh! I shall pay ver' vell; I haf nine hundert vrancs of inkomm, und—I haf not ver' long ter lif.... I shall gif no drouble vatefer.... I can eat onydings—I only vant to shmoke mein bipe. Und—you are der only von dat haf shed a tear for Bons, mit me; und so, I lof you.

I should be very glad, sir; but, to begin with, M. Gaudissart has given me a proper wigging—

Vigging?

That is one way of saying that he combed my hair for me. He gave me a scolding for meddling in your affairs.... So we must be very careful if you come to me. But I doubt whether you will stay when you have seen the place; you do not know how we poor devils live.

I should rader der boor home of a goot-hearted mann dot haf mourned Bons, dan der Duileries mit men dot haf ein tiger face.... I haf chust left tigers in Bons' house; dey vill eat up everydings—

Come with me, sir, and you shall see. But—well, anyhow, there is a garret. Let us see what Mme. Topinard says.

Schmucke followed like a sheep, while Topinard led the way into one of the squalid districts which might be called the cancers of Paris—a spot known as the Cite Bordin. It is a slum out of the Rue de Bondy, a double row of houses run up by the speculative builder, under the shadow of the huge mass of the Porte Saint-Martin theatre. The pavement at the higher end lies below the level of the Rue de Bondy; at the lower it falls away towards the Rue des Mathurins du Temple. Follow its course and you find that it terminates in another slum running at right angles to the first—the Cite Bordin is, in fact, a T-shaped blind alley. Its two streets thus arranged contain some thirty houses, six or seven stories high; and every story, and every room in every story, is a workshop and a warehouse for goods of every sort and description, for this wart upon the face of Paris is a miniature Faubourg Saint-Antoine. Cabinet-work and brasswork, theatrical costumes, blown glass, painted porcelain—all the various fancy goods known as l'article Paris are made here. Dirty and productive like commerce, always full of traffic—foot-passengers, vans, and drays—the Cite Bourdin is an unsavory-looking neighborhood, with a seething population in keeping with the squalid surroundings. It is a not unintelligent artisan population, though the whole power of the intellect is absorbed by the day's manual labor. Topinard, like every other inhabitant of the Cite Bourdin, lived in it for the sake of comparatively low rent, the cause of its existence and prosperity. His sixth floor lodging, in the second house to the left, looked out upon the belt of green garden, still in existence, at the back of three or four large mansions in the Rue de Bondy.

Topinard's apartment consisted of a kitchen and two bedrooms. The first was a nursery with two little deal bedsteads and a cradle in it, the second was the bedroom, and the kitchen did duty as a dining-room. Above, reached by a short ladder, known among builders as a "trap-ladder," there was a kind of garret, six feet high, with a sash-window let into the roof. This room, given as a servants' bedroom, raised the Topinards' establishment from mere "rooms" to the dignity of a tenement, and the rent to a corresponding sum of four hundred francs. An arched lobby, lighted from the kitchen by a small round window, did duty as an ante-chamber, and filled the space between the bedroom, the kitchen, and house doors—three doors in all. The rooms were paved with bricks, and hung with a hideous wall-paper at threepence apiece; the chimneypieces that adorned them were of the kind called capucines—a shelf set on a couple of brackets painted to resemble wood. Here in these three rooms dwelt five human beings, three of them children. Any one, therefore, can imagine how the walls were covered with scores and scratches so far as an infant arm can reach.

七十四、弗莱齐埃的成绩

“啊，诸位，等一等，”维勒摩说，“你们想把指定继承人撵出去吗？至今为止他的身份还没有人争论。”

“怎么没有？”弗莱齐埃回答，“我们反对他执管遗产。”

“凭什么理由？”

“你慢慢会知道的，小子！”弗莱齐埃冷冷地说，“我们并不反对受赠人把他自己的东西从他屋里拿走；可是屋子一定得封起来。他先生爱上哪儿住都可以。”

“不，他决不让出屋子！……”

“怎么呢？”

“我要法院来个紧急处分，当庭宣告我们是合租屋子的房客，你不能赶走我们……你们尽管把画拿出来，分清哪是邦斯先生的东西，哪是我当事人的，凡是他的就得放在他屋里……明白没有，小子？……”

“我走我走！”老音乐家说，他听着这番可厌的辩论，忽然提起了精神。

“对啦，还是这办法聪明！”弗莱齐埃说，“你可以省点儿钱；这件小事打起官司来你也赢不了的。租约是真凭实据……”

“租约租约！”维勒摩回答，“这是事实问题！……”

“哼，那像刑事案子一样不能靠人证的……你预备由法院派人调查、勘验……要求临时判决，来整套的诉讼程序吗？”

“不，不！”许模克吓得直嚷，“我搬家，我走……”

许模克过的是哲学家生活，那种朴素简陋差不多有点玩世不恭的意味。他只有两双鞋子，一双靴子，两套完全的衣服，一打衬衫，一打颈围，一打手帕，四件背心，另外还有邦斯送的一支精美的烟斗和一只绣花烟袋。他气愤之下，跑进屋子，把自己所有的东西都拣出来放在椅子上。

“这些都是我的！……还有钢琴也是我的。”他说话时那种天真淳朴，就跟古希腊的高人隐士一样。

“太太……”弗莱齐埃吩咐梭伐女人，“你找个人帮忙，把钢琴推出去，放在楼梯台上。”

“你也欺人太甚了，”维勒摩抢着对弗莱齐埃说，“发号施令有庭长在这儿，这件事只有他才能做主。”

“里头很有些值钱的东西呢。”书记官指着卧房说了一句。

“并且他先生是自愿出去的。”庭长也表示了意见。

“从来没看到这样的当事人，”维勒摩愤愤不平地，回过来对许模克生气了，“你简直是个脓包！……”

“反正一个人死在哪儿都一样！”许模克一边出门一边说，“这些人都张牙舞爪像老虎似的……那些破东西我叫人来拿就是了。”他又补上一句。

“你上哪儿去呀，先生？”

“听上帝安排！”指定继承人做了个满不在乎的手势。

“你得把住址通知我。”维勒摩嘱咐他。

“你跟着他去呀。”弗莱齐埃凑着维勒摩的耳朵说。

他们指定刚蒂南太太看守屋子，在邦斯剩下的款项内先拨了五十法郎给她。

许模克一走，弗莱齐埃就对维丹说：“事情进行得不错。你要愿意告老，把位置让给我，不妨去见见玛维尔庭长太太，你一定跟她谈得拢的。”

许模克在院子里回头对窗子望了最后一眼，法官在楼上看了对弗莱齐埃说：“你碰上了一个窝囊废！”

“不错，事情已经十拿九稳了！你不必三心二意，就把孙女儿嫁给波冷吧，他要当养老院的主任医师了。”

“慢慢再说吧！——再见，弗莱齐埃先生。”法官很亲热地和他告别。

“这家伙倒真有几招，”书记官说，“他会抖起来的，这小子！”

那时刚好十一点，德国老头心里想着邦斯，不知不觉走上了他平日和邦斯俩走惯的路；他时时刻刻看到朋友，觉得他还在自己身旁；临了他走到戏院前面，看见多比那从里头走出来。多比那一边想着经理的蛮横，一边擦着各处的灯，刚把工作做完。

“哦！办法有了！”许模克叫着把当差拦住了，“多比那，你可有地方住呀？……”

“有，先生。”

“有家吗？”

“有，先生。”

“你可愿意管我的膳宿？哦！我很能出点钱，我有九百法郎年金呢……并且我也活不久了……我决不打搅你，吃东西挺随便！唯一的嗜好是抽烟斗……跟我一起哭邦斯的只有你，所以我喜欢你。”

“先生，我还有不乐意的吗？可是先告诉你，高狄沙先生把我排揎了一顿……”

“排揎？”

“就是说骂了我一顿，因为我关切你的事……所以咱们得留点儿神，倘使你上我家去的话！可是我看你住不了的。你才不知道像我这等穷小子的家是怎么回事呢！……”

“我宁可跟一些有良心的、不忘记邦斯的穷人在一块儿，可不愿意跟人面兽心的家伙住在王宫里！我才在邦斯家看到些野兽，他们把什么都想吞下去呢！……”

“来，先生，你自己去瞧吧……我们有个阁楼……去跟我女人商量一下再说……”

许模克绵羊似的跟着多比那，由他领到一个可称为巴黎之癌的贫民窟里。那地方叫作鲍打弄，是条很窄的巷子，两旁的屋子都是地产商为了投机，盖得挺马虎的。巷子的起点，是篷地街上给圣·玛丁戏院的大厦——又是巴黎的一个疣——遮得黑魆魆的一段；弄内的路面比篷地街低，从斜坡上往玛多冷街方面低落下去，可是半中间给一条小巷子截住了，使整个鲍打弄成为T字形。这两条交叉的小巷里头，一共有六七层高的三十来幢房子。房子里的院子、住房，全做了各种工场和堆栈。这简直是小型的圣·安东阿纳城关。其中有做木器的，做铜器的，缝戏装的，做玻璃器具的，给瓷器上颜色的，总而言之，凡是制造各式巴黎货的工业，无不应有尽有。巷子跟它的商业一样肮脏一样发达，老是挤了来来往往的人、大大小小的货车，一切景象叫人看了恶心。满坑满谷的居民，正好跟周围的环境调和。他们都是些耍手艺的工匠，把所有的聪明都用在手艺上的人。因为租金便宜，人丁之旺不下于巷内出产的商品。多比那住在鲍打弄左手第二幢房子的七层楼上，从他的公寓里可以望到几个大花园，那是属于篷地街上硕果仅存的几座大宅子的。

多比那的住屋包括两个房间，一个厨房。第一间房是孩子们睡的，摆着两张白木小床和一只摇篮。第二间是多比那夫妇的卧室。厨房兼做了饭厅。从白木扶梯上去，顶上有个六英尺高而盖着锌片的假阁楼，开着一扇老虎窗。这小间既美其名曰下房，多比那的屋子也就够得上称为完全的公寓，而要花到四百法郎租金了。一进门有个小穿堂，靠厨房的圆窗取光，统共只有三间屋子的房门的地位。屋内是砖地，墙上糊的是六个铜子一卷的花纸，壁炉架的漆是模仿木头的恶俗颜色。住的五个人中间，三个是孩子，所以壁上凡是孩子的胳膊够得着的地方，全给划满了很深的沟槽。