And above all, do see if
there is a good fire upstairs. These country-people are so backward in
civilization!" he added. "Alas!" he sighed, "there is but one Paris in
the world; what a pity it is I can't transport it to sea! Heavens!
spoil-sauce!" he suddenly cried out to the cook; "what makes you put
vinegar in that fricassee when you have lemons? And, madame," he
added, "you gave me such coarse sheets I couldn't close my eyes all
night." Then he began to twirl a huge cane, executing with a silly
sort of care a variety of evolutions, the greater or less precision
and agility of which were considered proofs of a young man's standing
in the class of the Incroyables, so-called.
"And it is with such dandies as that," said Corentin to the landlord
confidentially, watching his face, "that the Republic expects to
improve her navy!"
"That man," said the young sailor to the landlady, in a low voice, "is
a spy of Fouche's. He has 'police' stamped on his face, and I'll swear
that spot he has got on his chin is Paris mud. Well, set a thief to
catch--"
Just then a lady to whom the young sailor turned with every sign of
outward respect, entered the kitchen of the inn.
"My dear mamma," he said. "I am glad you've come. I have recruited
some guests in your absence."
"Guests?" she replied; "what folly!"
"It is Mademoiselle de Verneuil," he said in a low voice.
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