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Otago Daily Times, Issue 11797, 28 July 1900, Page 5

" Halloa, Manuel," he exclaimed jestingly, " have you lost both your senses and yoiir tongue? "

"Why do you ask that, Ben Joel? "

"Why," repeated Ben Joel, "only, be cause I've spoken to you three times with' out obtaining the favour of an answer."

"Excuse me, and be so kind as-to re peat what you were saying."

"J was asking you in a friendly spirit

" If V " " Well, no ! It doesn't concern me after all."

"Tell me, T beg." " I was going to ask you for an explanation of that scene just now." , " What scene?" " That gallant improvisation addressed to the young lady.". " You have guessed it ■ all well enough, I fancy."

"You're really in love with her?" said Ben Joel, profoundly astonished. . " Yes/ answered Manuel in a distant voice. " Bah! And what's it going to lead to? " " Nothing." " Strange fellow ! " murmured the gipsy. "So you made this' foolish declarationjust as others fight—simply for pleasure." " Exactly so." "And Zilla?" "What! Zilla?" " Didn't you see that she was in torment? " " In torment?'' " Yes, the poor child has grown used to seeing in you the man whom she is to marry, for it was my father's wish that you should be joined to one another; and she is jealous, do you see, jealous from the very depths of her heart." A furrow puckered Manuel's brow. He quickened his .pace, as though to rid himself of his companion's conversation, and said in a chilling voice: ■" You are mistaken Zilla does not love me. She has never dreamt of what you say." Ben. Joel had not time to answer. Manuel had overtaken Zilla, and was walking beside her, thus making himself secure against any renewed questioning. Sulpice Castillan walked quietly behindthe group, according to Cyrano's instructions, and as he walked he said to himself:

" What the deuce can my master want, mixing himself up with this gallows-bird?"

Contrary to Sulpice's expectations, the three adventurers passed through, the Pont Neuf, which he had thought would be their settled abode, and went into a miserablelooking house, situated beyond the Nesle Gate, in the quarter which has now become the aristocratic suburb of St; Germain. Roland's purse, so nimbly snatched up by Lcn Joel, was, sufficiently well lined for them to dispense for that day with forecasting horoscopes for Parisians, or exhibiting their juggling'feats. In this company, of which- Joel was the leader, existence was .willingly maintained from hand to mouth.

Sulpice Castillan remained for some time in front of the door of the old house, long enough to assure himself that the gipsies were not coming out, and that it was indeed their dwelling. Then, since it was jutt in this part that he, too, was living wiih' Cyrano, Castillan continued his way and regained his master's .lodgings.

Savinien's impatience must have been very great, for, as soon as the morning of the next day arrived, after having had a detailed account rendered him of Castillan's doings, ,he took his sword, put into his pocket a little box that he had taken from a coffer, resting, on the mantelshelf in his bedroom, and betook himself in the direction of the house occu2>ied by Manuel. This house Castillan had "faithfully described to him, and at his first words he had recognised it as one that the students, who were regular inhabitants of that quarter, had christened "The House of the Cyclops." It was a high, narrow building, constructed of beams and strong joists, filled in with old plaster work, which intertwined in a confused mass, like gigantic arms. In an angle there opened out a low door covered with sheet-iron. On the first storey of the frontage not a solitary window was to be seen. One large bay window at the very top of the building, between the two slopes of the slate-covered roof, was all that broke np the black face of wall, and the roof itself was filled with green moss, while tufts of grass hung down from it like tresses, of hair. This solitary opening, filled with a .large leaden casement, used sometimes at night to emit a ruddy glare, was like an eye in the midst of a giant's forehead. This was why the students—keen seekers for mythological ■ comparisons—had named the tumble-down house—dark and silent by day, by night full of light and noise—" The House of the Cyclops." The townspeople used to speak of it with a kind of horror. Reports said that infernal rites were enacted within it, that it was a witches' meeting-place, or that, at any rate, it vros a haunt for coiners and robbers.

Cyrano, who was afraid of nothing, and, to life the expression that he himself attributetl to Chateau fort lo Mat-am ore, felt mighty enough to blow out the sun in.the heavens like a mere candle—Cyrano, as we said, knocked^ loudly at the low door. A long silence followed his summons. Then, a tardy step was heard a wooden staircase, and the door was opened,, disclosing to view an old woman, yellow'and wrinkled like a six-months' old apple. Through the crank of the door, which the housewife warily held half-open, Cyrano saw indistinctly rags and tatters hung up on the walls, and what looked like stump beds ranged in the shadow around a table, while a sour odour choked him. " What do you want?" asked the old woman. " I want to speak to a young man who is living in this house." "A young man? We have ten," said the lodging-house' keener with a little cracked laugh. "What do they call him?" "Manuel, I believe." " Hood ! I know, then " "Well, where is he?" "He has gone out with Ben Joel and Zilln. his companions." ■ "Where shall I find them?" • "Probably at the Pont Neuf." " Thank vo'u." And while villainous faces, ready for anything., peered out in the shadow, from behind the old lodging-house keeper, Cyrano slipued i>- silver crown into the latter's hand, and made his way in the direction of the Pont Neuf.

Although scarcely 10 o'clock in the morning, a dense and noisy crowd was already thronging the approaches to the bridge. The crowd was gathered round a puppet show, situated close by the moat of the Ne«!e Gate, opposite the Jtue Guenegaml.

Both proprict-ov and" impresario of this show were none other than the illustrious Jean Briocci. or Brioche, of whom we have previously spoken, and who has left a name in the hisforv of foreign drama.

From Bvio^hp's booHi o deafening, row was issnincr. and presently ho appenred in nerson. followed by his confodci'ate. VioJor. At sight of him the crowd calmed down, while the idle?'* contented themselves by fiancing at one another and winking s;7mfkmitU-. Evidently they were !in hones of pnme occurrence full of interest.

"Lnd'es aid gentlemen." Paid Bvioclio. wit!l n. sirnnoilv-marked Italian .accent. "Ijoforo oppnini; to yon the doors of mv booth. I wish to oive you foretaste of the fipp things yon will, see in it."

"Si'cli »x the adventHw of hmrm-backed Punchinello." .''truck in Violon, " the unMirpsf*able marionette, an entertainment, of lrarve'loiis efficacy for people troubled, with the. ptilpmi."

A formidable- tap of the, foot, the. academic rp.ii of the foreign show parade, summarily brought Violon's eloquen.ee to a close.

Brioche continued

" You have already heard tell, ladies and gentlemen, of my monkey. .Fngotin. the marvel of marvels."

"Ye.?. Fagot-in! Fagotin." shouted the crowd, put in a good humour by this preamble.

"Well," thundered the orator. "I am groins* to show it to you ; otherwise, as I showed it yo'ii yestordav. as T shall show it yon to-morrow, it would cost you two red linrrk."

He made a sign ; Violon disappeared, and immediately returned, leading a monkey drepsed in a most ludicrous manner, and walking with comical affectation. A general roar of laughter greeted this appearance. ""How like him it is! Hurrah, Fagotin! Hurrah, Bergerac's fine snout! Attack ! attack! "

In order to explain" these shouts it must be mentioned that .Fagotin, the monkey, •was nothing else but a living caricature of Cyrano. This grotesque imitation of the poet's manners, costume, and conquering bearing had cost Brioche infinite pains. The mftnkey, to quote from an account of the hero of our story, was "as large as an 'Amiens pie.' as tall as a short-statured man. and as full of buffoonery as the deuce ; Brioche had put on its head an old vicuna bat. Ilm holes, rents, and gum of which were hidden by a feather ; he had fastened a Scaramouchc ruff round its neck, and made it wear a doublet with six flaps, ornamented with lace and points."

" Look at him ! What a fine appearance he presents!'' cried Brioche, joining in the merriment of his audience. And turning to the animal, he exclaimed.

"Come, mv valiant fellow. Come, my fine Captain Satan, giant-slayer, mountaincleaver, swashbuckler, let tis sec something of your abilities."

The crowd was all oars and eyes ; so

much so that it did not perceive the real Cvrano, who. in his turn, had just stopped iv front of the shed in the outer circle of the spectators. Guessing what was going on, and ascertaining that it was indeed a burlesque representation of himself that was being held up to the jests of the idlers, Cyrano felt the blood boil in his veins. His nose—that nose which it pleased them to satirise so scandalously—snuffed the ailfiercely, and the poet had a mmd to fall on the stupid crowd, who were making fun of a man of his worth, with the flat of his sword, but his curiosity was stronger than his linger. He forbore and listened. "Now," went on Brioche, borrowing his discourse from the works of Cyrano' himself, and speaking for the monkey, 'it is known that you wear at your side the gravedifger's 'nourisher; that the pommel of your°sword is made of the late Sultan's head; that with the wind.from your hat you can sink a fleet, and that anyone who wants to know the number of men you have killed has merely to put a nine and every grain of the " sands of the sea- for the noughts. Attention! We are going to carve out some work for the Fates." The monkey, which was admirably trained, drew its sw.ord, and made a show of goincr through the tierce and quarte. In dome this he imitated Cyrano's sword play so ludicrously that the latter began to 'laugh with the crowd.' As Fagot 111 went on with his drill, a lackey espied the gentleman's head, and whispered a few words in his neighbours ear. The news spread from place to place, and an immense uproar soon prevailed. " There he is ! That's him, right enough That's Cyrano ! That is the possessed one! On guard, Fagotin, here is your shadow! " And the crowd began to gaze at the poet and the monkey by turns, comparing them with such noisy mirth that Cyrano lost patience. "What, rogues! Am Igoing^to1 see you alter your tone and make way?" A lackey took upon himself to reply for all the others, and taking his hat in hand, drew .near Cyrano. " Pardon, monsieur," he said, "is that your everyday nose? What a beggar of a iiose! Be so*kind as to move back; it ob-

structs my view."

To speak to Cyrano of Ms nose was to offer him the gravest of insults. He drew himself together like a gamecock, unsheathed his Jong rapier, and, without a word of warning, pounced on the crowd, who had been deafening him with their

]eers. In the twinkling of an eye the place was cleared. Cyrano had no other enemy in front of .him than the monkey, Fagotin, which, equipped like the gentleman, made ;i. show of crossing swords will) him. Savinien, who was beside himself, did to the monkey what he would have done to a lackey—giving it a deft stroke, he ran it clean' through the body. At sijrhfc of the dead monkey, Brioche be&an to moan in a most piteous manner. Cyrano, appeased by his bloody reparation, quietly watched him embrace the victim of the mischance.

"Oh, Monsieur de Cyrano," the showman, whom fear had inspired with a prudent reserve, was at last pbie to say, " I swear that I will bring an action against you. and it will cost you at least fiftypistoles." " Just wait," said Cyrano ;' I shall laugh at you instead of paying you, and it wi!l serve you right."

He then*put up his sword, adjusted his hat. and, with a firm step, passed along the whole length of the bridge, looking for Manuel and his two companions among the erstwhile insolent crowd, who nmv prudently turned aside before him. The improrisatore's face was not to be seen anywhere.

The rrentleinan returned from the Rue Guenegaud side, having decided to return to the Houseoop. p the Cyclops to await Manuel there, when he came face to face with Zilln..

"Ah! my pretty child!" he cried with satisfaction', "just a word, please." Zilla looked at thf'man who came up to her so bnldlv, and ve?oo;nising him, stopped mraitiiifr th° question he was jroins: to ask. TJebinrl Zilk- B*.n Jnel was trying to conceal his fare, which the sifrht of Sr»vinien had clouded over in a: singular manner.

"Tell me," went on the poet, "if the younc; man who came to. the Hotel de Fnventines yesterdiy is to be found in some unknown corner of the Pont Weiif, for, upon my word, I have used my eyes well to discover him."

"Mamiel?" asked the fortune teller.

" The same."

" Ho is not with us this morning."

" Oh, and where is he, might I ask? "

" Hore is my brother, who will tell you better1 than I can."

Zilla bowed slightly to the gentleman, and was lost in the crowd, leaving Ben Joel to .an embarrassing conversation. The gipsy was prudently going to slip off, when Savi'nien's hand was placed on his shoulder.

" Are you as shy as your sister? " he said, at the same time, " and are you going to refuse to answer too?"

"Oh, sir '

■" stammered the gipsy.

The tone of the imploring voice doubtless awakened in Cyrano's mind a lingering remembrance, for he tried to look a. the features of the speaker, who obstinate!"- kent his head bent down.

" Speak now! " lw said.

And without'ceremony he put his hand under the i'dventnver's chin, ajid lifted his face into cle'ir light.

" it's you,

'■ Ye« very stupidly of an attack of indigestion"' The old codger had got very f on d of eating in his old days. "May God rest his soul! Let us come back to Manuel; you told me tha* he was a child of chance."

"Yes." I "Of your race.- t> \ "I believe so- T ' n Cyrano grasped Hen Joels wrist, and, looking at him with troublesome persistence, he asked: ( " Are you sure about it. • • "Why that question?" said, the gipsy, whose face accused him of uncertainty. "Because I have other opinion,? as to Manuel's origin." "What do you think.' "I think that he is a stolen child." " Stolen!" cried Ben Joel, paling in spite of "himself.

"Ye 3, stolen! but not by you—you are still too young; but by your people, your father perhaps." "Oh, bon Dieu!" answered Ben Joel in a natural enough tone, " why should he have been stolen, I ask you? " '-

"To do with him as fellows like you do— llse him as a means of exciting the charity of the passers-by, to train him up to theft and crime, or possibly to extract a ransom from his family later on. What do I know? There is no1 dearth of motives."

"Do not be mistaken monseigneur; Manuel is of our own blood."

" ©o not affirm it too strongly, for perhaps I shall force you to belie yourself. Besides, before extending this search further. I want to question Manuel himself. Show me the ■ way," said Cyrano, as they were now at the House of the Cyclops. (To be Continued.)

— A week's work in Birmingham comprises amongst its various results the manufacture of 14,000,000 pens, 6000 bedsteads, 7000 guns, 300,000,000 nails, 100,000,000 buttons. 100 saddles, 5,000,000 copper and bronze coins, 20,000 pairs of spectacles, 6 tons of papier mache wares, and £30,000 worth of jewellery, 4000 miles of iron and steel wire, 10 tons of pins, S tons of hairpins, hooks, and eyes, 130,000 gross of wood screws, 500 tons of nuts and screw-bolts and spikes, 50 tons of wrought iron hinges, 350 miles of wax for vestas, 40 tons of refined metal, *0 tons of German silver, 1000 dozen fenders, 3500 bellows, 800 tons of brass and copper wares.