The voice of Captain Pamphile, in consequence of the interest he felt for James, took such a tone of distress that, besides the doctor, every one within hearing ran to his help. Among the first to arrive was Double-Bouche, who, startled by the Captain’s shout while he was following his usual avocation, ran in with a leek and a carrot, which he had been engaged in peeling, in his hand. The Captain had no trouble in explaining the reason for his cries. He only pointed to James, who still continued, in the middle of the room, to show the same signs of pain and grief. Everybody crowded round the invalid. The doctor declared that he was suffering from a brain fever, a malady to which that species of ape was particularly liable, as their habit of hanging by the tail sent the blood to the head; that he must, therefore, bleed James forthwith, but that, whether or no, as he had not been called directly the first symptoms of the disease showed themselves, he could not answer for the result. After this preamble, he drew out his instrument case, got ready his lancet, and desired Double-Bouche to hold the patient steady, for fear he might cut an artery instead of a vein.

  The Captain and his crew had great confidence in the doctor, so that they listened with profound respect to the scientific dissertation, the gist of which we have just given; only Double-Bouche made a sign of dissent by shaking his head. Double-Bouche had an old grudge against the doctor. One day it happened that some preserved plums, which the Captain held in great esteem as having been given him by his wife — it happened, then, that these plums, shut up in a certain drawer, were found to have sensibly diminished in number. On this Captain Pamphile had assembled his ship’s company with a view to finding out what member of the crew had dared to put his teeth into the private store of the master of the “Roxelane.” Everybody had denied the theft, Double-Bouche with the rest, but as the last was a likely thief, the Captain had taken his denial for what it was worth, and asked the doctor if there were no means of arriving at the truth. The doctor, whose motto, like that of Jean Jacques Rousseau, was vitam impendiere vero, had answered that nothing was simpler, and that there were two ways, both infallible. The first and speedier method was to rip up Double-Bouche, an operation he could perform in seven seconds; the second was to administer an emetic, which would entail a delay greater or less according to the strength of the drug, but would not under any circumstances be more than one hour. Captain Pamphile, who preferred gentle means, whenever possible, chose the emetic. The medicine was promptly and forcibly administered, and the suspect was handed over to the charge of two sailors, who had strict orders on no account to lose sight of him.

  Thirty-nine minutes afterwards the doctor entered, watch in hand, bearing five plum stones, which Double-Bouche had thought well to swallow with the plums for better security, and which, in spite of himself, he had just given up to meet the ends of justice. His guilt was flagrant, Double-Rouche having positively declared that he had eaten no fruit for eight days but bananas and Indian figs, and condign punishment was his instant fate. The prisoner was sentenced to fifteen days’ bread and water with, by way of dessert, twenty-five lashes with a rope’s end, which were regularly administered to him by the quartermaster. From this little event it came about that Double-Bouche, as we have said, hated the doctor cordially, and never let a chance pass from that time forth of making things unpleasant for that individual.

  Moreover, Double-Bouche was the only one of the company who did not believe a word of the doctor’s diagnosis. In his illness James exhibited certain symptoms which were very familiar to Double-Bouche from his having suffered in exactly the same manner, when, surprised in the act of tasting the Captain’s bouillabaisse, he had to swallow a piece of fish before he had time to take out the bones. His glance then instinctively wandered round the room seeking for what, by analogy, he reasoned must have tempted James’s appetite. The butterfly and the pin were gone; this was quite enough to show Double-Bouche exactly what was wrong. James had the butterfly in his stomach and the pin in his gullet.

  Thus, when the doctor, holding his lancet ready, came cautiously up to James, whom Double-Bouche supported in his arms, the latter said, to the stupefaction and scandal of the Captain and his men, that the doctor was wrong; that James was not the least bit in the world menaced with apoplexy, but was suffering from strangulation; that there was nothing whatever wrong with the brain, but merely a big pin stuck in the oesophagus. Having had his say, Double-Bouche, trying on James the remedy with which he usually cured himself, forced down his throat after several attempts the leek he happened to be peeling when called by the Captain, thus driving the foreign body from the narrow passage where it was into the wider space below. Certain that the operation had been successful and would redound to his credit, he placed the moribund ape in the middle of the room. The latter, instead of going on with the antics which he had been performing before the crew five minutes earlier, rested for a moment quite quietly, as if to be certain that the pain was really past; then he began to blink, then to rub his stomach gently with one hand, and finally he stood up and danced on his hind legs, which, as we all know, was his expression for supreme contentment. But this was not all, for Double-Bouche, to give the final blow at the doctor’s reputation, held out to the convalescent the carrot he had brought, and James, who was very fond of that vegetable, took possession of it at once and proved, by the way in which he munched it without delay and without interruption, that his digestive organs were again quite free from obstruction, and ready to recommence their duties. The amateur surgeon was triumphant. As for the legitimate professor of the art, he made up his mind to take his revenge when Double-Bouche got ill; but unfortunately for him Double-Bouche had nothing whatever the matter with him during the rest of the voyage but a slight attack of indigestion in the latitude of the Azores, and this he treated himself, after the fashion of the ancient Romans, by putting his finger down his throat.

  The brig “Roxelane,” Captain Pamphile, after a successful run, arrived then, 30th September, in the harbour of Marseilles, where were unladen, to the great advantage of the Captain, the tea, coffee, and groceries which he had obtained by barter from Captain Kao-Kiou-Kwan, in the Indian Archipelago; as for James the First, he was sold for the sum of seventy-five francs to Eugène Isabey, who gave him to Flers for a Turkish pipe, and Flers exchanged him for a Greek musket with Decamps.

  And that is how James passed from the banks of the Bango River to No. 109, Rue du Faubourg Saint-Denis, where his education was, thanks to the paternal care of Fau, brought to the state of perfection which you all appreciate so highly in him.

  Jadin was modestly acknowledging the plaudits of the meeting, when we were startled by loud cries from the outside of the door. We rushed towards the staircase and found the portière’s daughter nearly fainting in the arms of Tom, who, frightened in his turn by our sudden appearance, started off downstairs at full gallop. A moment later we heard a second cry, shriller even than the first; an old marquise, who had lived on the third floor for the last thirty-five years, had been disturbed by the noise, had come out candle in hand, met the fugitive face to face, and gone off in a dead faint. Tom ran upstairs again a few steps, found the door of the fourth floor open, went in as if the rooms belonged to him, and fell into the midst of a wedding supper. In an instant a fearful hubbub arose, the guests, bride and bridegroom at their head, made a dash for the stairs. The whole house, from cellar to attics, was out in less than no time, the lodgers lining the banisters, all talking at once and not one of them listening. Eventually they came back to the fountain head of information; the little girl, who gave the alarm, explained that she was going upstairs without a light, carrying the cream, when she felt that some one had thrown an arm round her waist. Supposing that some impertinent lodger had taken this liberty, she retaliated by a sound box on the ear. Tom replied to the blow by a growl which at once betrayed his identity; the girl, terrified at finding herself in the claws of a bear instead of, as she thought, in the arms of a young man, had given the scream which brought us all out. Our appearance had, as has been said, frightened Tom, and Tom’s fright had brought about the subsequent events, namely, the marquise’s fainting fit and the upset of the wedding party.

  Alexandre Decamps, who was Tom’s especial friend, made his excuses to the company, and as proof of his good manners, promised to bring him back as St. Marthe led the famed Tarasque with a mere bit of blue or pink riband. On this a little scamp of a boy brought him the bride’s garter, which he had just got hold of to give to the guests, when the alarm was given. Alexandre took the riband, entered the dining-room, and found Tom walking with the greatest cleverness in and out among the various dishes on the table, where he was just eating his third currant cake. This fresh transgression was his ruin; the bridegroom, unfortunately, had exactly the same tastes as Tom; he called round him all those who were fond of cake. Loud murmurs arose forthwith, and the docility with which poor Tom followed Alexandre did little to allay their anger. At the door of the apartment they met the landlord. The marquise had just given notice to quit; the bridegroom declared he would not stay another quarter of an hour in the house unless justice was done him; and the rest of the lodgers joined in the chorus. The landlord turned pale as he thought of the empty house and vanished rents, and he therefore told Decamps that, much as he desired to retain him as a tenant, it would be impossible for him to do so unless he at once gave up keeping an animal which, at such a time of day and in a respectable house, was the occasion of so grave a scandal. On his part Decamps, who was beginning to get disgusted with Tom, made only sufficient demur to give his surrender the appearance of a favour. He gave his word of honour that Tom should be sent away the next day, and to reassure those of the lodgers who demanded instant expulsion, declaring their inability to go to bed if there was any delay, he went down to the backyard, shoved Tom into a dog kennel, pushed the door of the kennel against the wall, and piled up a heap of paving stones on the top of the kennel.

  Thus, the promise, the execution of which had commenced so brilliantly, appeared satisfactory to the complainants; the portière s daughter dried her tears, the marquise calmed down after three severe nervous paroxysms, and the bridegroom magnanimously said he would be satisfied with hot buns in default of currant cakes. All went to their respective rooms, and two hours afterwards perfect tranquillity reigned again.

  As for Tom, at first he tried, like Enceladus, to get rid of the mountain which weighed him down, but finding this too much for his strength, he made a hole in the wall and walked out into the next garden.

  CHAPTER VIII

  HOW TOM BROKE THE WRIST OF A MUNICIPAL GUARD, AND THE ORIGIN OF THE TERROR WITH WHICH HE REGARDED ALL MEMBERS OF THAT HIGHLY RESPECTABLE FORCE

  The tenant of the ground floor of No.III was not a little surprised to see next morning a bear walking about among his flower-beds. He immediately reclosed his veranda door, which he had just opened with a view to taking a similar walk, and attempted to discover through the glass by what means this new gardener had obtained access to his premises. Unfortunately the opening was hidden by a clump of lilac, so that the search, prolonged though it was, produced no satisfactory result.

  Then, as the tenant of the ground floor of No. Ill was fortunate enough to be a regular subscriber to the “Constitutionnel “newspaper, he remembered having read, a few days previously, under the heading “Valenciennes “that that town had been the scene of an extraordinary phenomenon; a shower of frogs, accompanied by thunder and lightning, had fallen, and so heavy was it that the streets of the town and the roofs of the houses were completely covered.

  Immediately after Tom’s appearance the sky, which two hours before had been ashen grey, became blue as indigo. The patron of the “Constitutionnel “looked up to the sky and, seeing it was black as ink, and that Tom was in his garden without visible means of entrance, he began to think that a phenomenon similar to that at Valenciennes was about to be repeated, with the sole difference that instead of frogs it would rain bears. One was no more surprising than the other, the hailstones were simply larger and more dangerous, that was all. Having taken up this idea, he turned round and looked at his barometer. The index pointed to “much rain “and “very stormy “; and as he looked there was a clap of thunder. The room, too, was lit up with the bluish light of a flash of lightning; the reader of the “Constitutionnel” thought there was not a moment to be lost, and hoping to have company in the approaching storm, he sent his valet for the commissary of police, and his cook for a corporal and nine men, so that, whatever happened, he would have the protection of the civil power and also that of the military.

  In the meantime, the passers-by, seeing the cook and valet running wildly out of No. Ill, assembled round the front door and made all kinds of guesses at what might be going on within. They interrogated the portier, but the portier, greatly to his own disgust, knew no more than anybody else; all he could tell them was that the alarm, whatever its cause, began in the apartments situated between the entrance and the back garden. At this moment the subscriber to the “Constitutionnel “appeared at tire door of the veranda which opened on to the courtyard, pale and trembling, and shouted for help. Tom had seen him through the glass door, and being well accustomed to human society, he had trotted up to him, with a view to making his acquaintance; but the reader of the “Constitutionnel” misunderstanding his intentions, had taken a simple act of politeness for a declaration of war, and prudently beaten a retreat. On arriving at the courtyard door he heard a cracking noise at the windows of the garden door. Upon this the retreat degenerated into a panic flight, and the fugitive appeared, as we have said, before the loungers and gossips, showing visible signs of the greatest distress and calling for help with the full power of his lungs.

  Then, as usually happens under such circumstances, the crowd, instead of responding to the appeal, melted away. The only one left was a Municipal Guard, who stood his ground, and, advancing to the subscriber of the “Constitutionnel,” touched his shako, and asked how he could serve him. But the poor man had neither speech nor language left; he pointed without a word to the door he had left open and the steps he had descended so precipitately. The Municipal Guard saw that the danger must lie there, bravely drew his sword, ascended the steps, went through the door, and stood inside the room.

  The first thing that met his eyes was the good-tempered face of Tom, who, standing upright on his hind legs, had put his head and fore paws through a pane of glass, and was leaning on the framework of the window and looking with curiosity at the unknown furniture of the room.

  The Municipal Guard stopped short, uncertain, brave as he was, whether to advance or retreat. But hardly had Tom caught sight of him than, staring at the apparition with haggard eyes, he withdrew his head from the casement, and fled with the utmost speed of all four legs to the remote corner of the garden, blowing hard like a terrified buffalo, and showing manifest signs of the terror which the sight of the constable’s uniform inspired.

  As, so far, we have presented our friend Tom to our readers as possessing both reason and good sense, we must be allowed, notwithstanding the critical situation, to interrupt our narrative while we explain how it came about that he was suddenly frightened by the representative of the law, seeing that so far no hostile demonstration had been made, and without some such explanation the irreproachable reputation he has left behind him might suffer.

  It was an evening during the carnival of the year of grace 1832. Tom had been in Paris barely six months, and yet the artistic society in which he moved had already so civilized him that he was one of the most; amiable bears you could wish to meet. He would go and open the door when the bell rang, mount guard for hours at a time standing on his hind legs with a halberd in his hand, and dance a minuet, holding a broomstick with infinite grace behind his head. He had passed the day in these innocent recreations, to the great satisfaction of the studio, and had just dropped off into the sleep of the just in the wardrobe which he used as his kennel, when a knock was heard at the front door. At the sound James showed so many signs of joy that Decamps knew at once that it was his beloved tutor who was coming to see him.

  As he had supposed, the door opened and disclosed Fau, muffled in a masquerade dress. James, as was his custom, threw himself into his arms.

  “Very well, very well indeed!” said Fau, placing James on the table, and putting his walking-stick into his hand, “you are a charming little animal. Port arms! Present arms! Ready! Fire! Capital! I will get a complete uniform made for you as a Grenadier, and you shall mount guard instead of me. But, just now, I have not come for you, but for your friend Tom. Where is the animal in question?”

  “Where?” replied Decamps. “In his kennel, I believe.”

  “Tom, come here! Tom!” called Fau.

  Tom gave a low growl, which explained that he quite understood that he was the person wanted, but that he did not feel at all eager to respond to the invitation.

  “Very well,” said Fau, “so that’s the way you obey me, eh? Tom, my friend, do not oblige me to have recourse to forcible measures.”

  Tom stretched out one paw, which appeared at the door of his wardrobe, without any more of his body being visible, and began to yawn plaintively and slowly like a child ordered to get up, who dares not protest otherwise against the tyranny of his schoolmaster.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22