"The Charpillon," he added, "has not got a fever, but is covered with bruises. What grieves the old woman most is that she has not got the hundred guineas."
"She would have had them the next morning," I said, "if her daughter had been tractable."
"Her mother had made her swear that she would not be tractable, and you need not hope to possess her without the mother's consent."
"Why won't she consent?"
"Because she thinks that you will abandon the girl as soon as you have enjoyed her."
"Possibly, but she would have received many valuable presents, and now she is abandoned and has nothing."
"Have you made up your mind not to have anything more to do with her?"
"Quite."
"That's your wisest plan, and I advise you to keep to it, nevertheless I want to shew you something which will surprise you. I
will be back in a moment."
He returned, followed by a porter, who carried up an arm-chair covered with a cloth. As soon as we were alone, Goudar took off the covering and asked me if I would buy it.
"What should I do with it? It is not a very attractive piece of furniture."
"Nevertheless, the price of it is a hundred guineas."
"I would not give three."
"This arm-chair has five springs, which come into play all at once as soon as anyone sits down in it. Two springs catch the two arms and hold them tightly, two others separate the legs, and the fifth lifts up the seat."
After this description Goudar sat down quite naturally in the chair and the springs came into play and forced him into the position of a woman in labour.
"Get the fair Charpillon to sit in this chair," said he, "and your business is done."
I could not help laughing at the contrivance, which struck me as at once ingenious and diabolical, but I could not make up my mind to avail myself of it.
"I won't buy it," said I, "but I shall be obliged if you will leave it here till to-morrow."
"I can't leave it here an hour unless you will buy it; the owner is waiting close by to hear your answer."
"Then take it away and come back to dinner."
He shewed me how I was to release him from his ridiculous position, and then after covering it up again he called the porter and went away.
There could be no doubt as to the action of the machinery, and it was no feeling of avarice which hindered me from buying the chair. As I
have said, it seemed rather a diabolical idea, and besides it might easily have sent me to the gallows. Furthermore, I should never have had the strength of mind to enjoy the Charpillon forcibly, especially by means of the wonderful chair, the mechanism of which would have frightened her out of her wits.
At dinner I told Goudar that the Charpillon had demanded an interview, and that I had wished to keep the chair so as to shew her that I could have her if I liked. I shewed him the letter, and he advised me to accede to her request, if only for curiosity's sake.
I was in no hurry to see the creature while the marks on her face and neck were still fresh, so I spent seven or eight days without making up my mind to receive her. Goudar came every day, and told me of the confabulations of these women who had made up their minds not to live save by trickery.
He told me that the grandmother had taken the name of Anspergher without having any right to it, as she was merely the mistress of a worthy citizen of Berne, by whom she had four daughters; the mother of the Charpillon was the youngest of the family, and, as she was pretty and loose in her morals, the Government had exiled her with her mother and sisters. They had then betaken themselves to Franche-
Comte, where they lived for some time on the Balm of Life. Here it was that the Charpillon came into the world, her mother attributing her to a Count de Boulainvilliers. The child grew up pretty, and the family removed to Paris under the impression that it would be the best market for such a commodity, but in the course of four years the income from the Balm having dwindled greatly, the Charpillon being still too young to be profitable, and debtors closing round them on every side, they resolved to come to London.
He then proceeded to tell me of the various tricks and cheats which kept them all alive. I found his narrative interesting enough then, but the reader would find it dull, and I expect will be grateful for my passing it over.
I felt that it was fortunate for me that I had Goudar, who introduced me to all the most famous courtezans in London, above all to the illustrious Kitty Fisher, who was just beginning to be fashionable.
He also introduced me to a girl of sixteen, a veritable prodigy of beauty, who served at the bar of a tavern at which we took a bottle of strong beer. She was an Irishwoman and a Catholic, and was named Sarah. I should have liked to get possession of her, but Goudar had views of his own on the subject, and carried her off in the course of the next year. He ended by marrying her, and she was the Sara Goudar who shone at Naples, Florence, Venice, and elsewhere. We shall hear of her in four or five years, still with her husband. Goudar had conceived the plan of making her take the place of Dubarry, mistress of Louis XV., but a lettre de cachet compelled him to try elsewhere.
Ah! happy days of lettres de cachet, you have gone never to return!
The Charpillon waited a fortnight for me to reply, and then resolved to return to the charge in person. This was no doubt the result of a conference of the most secret kind, for I heard nothing of it from Gondar.
She came to see my by herself in a sedan-chair, and I decided on seeing her. I was taking my chocolate and I let her come in without rising or offering her any breakfast. She asked me to give her some with great modesty, and put up her face for me to give her a kiss, but I turned my head away. However, she was not in the least disconcerted.
"I suppose the marks of the blows you gave me make my face so repulsive?"
"You lie; I never struck you."
"No, but your tiger-like claws have left bruises all over me. Look here. No, you needn't be afraid that what you see may prove too seductive; besides, it will have no novelty for you."