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Luxury - Gluttony: Two of the Seven Cardinal Sins
CHAPTER X
When Abbé Ledoux had finished reading this note, he reflected a moment in silence, while the canon, repeating the last words of the letter, said, bitterly:
"'And you will be able to hope to find Appetite!' What cruel irony in this pitiless pun!"
"That is singular," said the abbé, thoughtfully. "Did you see the bearer of this note, Dom Diégo?"
"Did I see him? Could I lose this opportunity to speak of him?"
"Well?"
"Ah, well, one would have thought I was speaking Hebrew to this animal. To my most pressing questions, he responded with a stupid air. I was not able to draw from him either the address or the name of the person who had sent me the note."
"And so, canon, it is in obedience to this letter that you have renounced your complaint against this renegade Captain Horace."
"Yes, because I hoped, by my deference to the desires of him who holds my life in his hands, to soften his heart of stone, but alas! this concession has not touched him."
"But what relations can exist between this accursed cook and Captain Horace?" said Abbé Ledoux, still absorbed in thought. "Some intrigue is hidden there."
Then after another silence he added:
"Dom Diégo, listen to me; I will not tell you to abandon the hope that some day you may have in your service this cook whom you prize so highly. I shall not insist upon the dangers which threaten your eternal salvation in consequence of your persistent and abominable gluttony; you are at this moment in such a state of excitement that you would not comprehend it."
"I fear so, abbé"
"I am sure of it, canon. I will deal then with you as we deal, permit me to say it, with monomaniacs. I will for the present put myself in your place, extraordinary as it may seem, and I must tell you that you have done exactly the contrary of what you ought to have done, if you wish to gain power over this man, who, as you say, controls your destiny."
"Explain yourself, my dear abbé."
"After all you have confided to me, evidently this cook has no need of a position; having learned of your favourite vice, he has only sought a pretext for introducing himself into your house; his connivance with Captain Horace only proves, do you not see, that their plan was arranged beforehand, and they proposed to use your love of eating as a means of gaining influence over you."
"Great God!" cried Dom Diégo, "that is a ray of light!"
"Do you confess your blindness now?"
"What an infernal plot! What atrocious Machiavellism!" murmured the canon, thoroughly frightened.
Then he added, with a sigh of dejection, full of bitterness:
"Such dissimulation! Such perfidy united to such beautiful genius! Oh, humanity! Oh, humanity!"
"Let me continue," replied the abbé. "You have already, by your unworthy weakness, deprived yourself of one of the three means by which you might have controlled this great cook, since, as he has had the effrontery to warn you beforehand, there are yet two others he intends to exact from you, and he counts on your deplorable readiness to yield, to obtain them. Now, this end once attained, he will laugh at you, and you will see him no more."
"Abbé, that is impossible."
"Why?"
"I tell you, abbé, such treason is impossible. You surely do not believe that men are ferocious beasts, — monsters."
"I believe, canon," replied the abbé, with a shrug of the shoulders, "I believe that a cook who gives gratis wines at one or two louis a bottle — "
"Wait, pray," interrupted Dom Diégo. "Neither one, nor two, nor six louis would pay the cost of such wines. They were nectar, abbé, they were ambrosia, I tell you!"
"All the more reason, canon; a cook who is so prodigal of such costly ambrosia has no need of hiring himself for wages, I imagine."
"I not only offered him wages, I offered him, also, my friendship, — think of it, abbé, I said to this perfidious monster, 'Friend, I will not be your master, I will be your admirer.'"
"You see that he cared as little for your friendship as for your admiration."
"Ah, that would be an ingrate, indeed!"
"That may be; but if you wish, in your turn, to put this ingrate at your feet, there is a way for you to do so."
"To put him at my feet! Oh, abbé, if you could work this miracle! but, no, no, you are without pity, you play upon my credulity."
"The miracle is very simple; refuse absolutely all that this man demands of you, because if he has no need of your friendship or your admiration, he has evidently great need of your leaving off your suit against this Captain Horace. Refuse that, and you will hold your man. I do not know for how long a time you will hold him, but you will hold him. We will see afterward how to prolong your power. I am, you see, a man of wise counsel."
"Abbé, you open my eyes, you are right; in refusing his demands, I shall force him to return to me."
"Well, do you agree to it?"
"I was blind, silly! But what do you want, abbé? Despair, inanition! The stomach reacts so terribly on the brain. Ah, why was I so weak as to sign this nonsuit?"
"It is time to recall it."
"You think so, abbé?"
"I am certain of it. I know persons who are very influential with the magistracy."
"What an opportunity, abbé, what an opportunity!"
"We have friends everywhere. Now, listen to what is necessary for you to do. You go at once and present your complaint in legal form; we will attest it immediately at the bar of the king's attorney. We will say to him that the other day when you were in a condition of suffering and wholly irresponsible, you signed the nonsuit, but reflecting upon the sacrilegious crime of Captain Horace, you would fail in your double character of canon and guardian if you did not deliver this criminal to the rigour of the law. Begin by this act of decision and you will soon see this insolent cook, who dictates his orders to you, humble and submissive to your will."
"Abbé, dear abbé, you have saved my life."
"Wait, that is not all. This mysterious unknown, who interests himself so much in Captain Horace, must also interest himself in the captain's marriage with your niece. Evidently this intrigue concerns that, because, understand me, I wager a hundred to one that one of the two things which this impertinent cook reserves to ask of you is your consent to this marriage."
"What a depth of villainy!" cried the canon. "What diabolical plotting! There is no longer room for doubt, abbé, such was the plan of this miserable creature. Oh, if in my turn I could only get him in my power!"
"The way is very easy, and whatever may be the cause of it, after the various ramifications of this dark intrigue, of which your niece is the end, you must see that there would be grave dangers in leaving her in Paris, and whatever course you may take in regard to this — "
"She shall enter a convent," interrupted the canon, "that is my intention at all hazards; she has already caused me enough worry, enough care. I do not like to play the rôle of a guardian in a comedy."
"Your niece, then, will enter a convent; but to leave her in Paris is to expose her to the plotting of Captain Horace and his friends, and you know their audacity. Perhaps they will abduct her a second time. Imagine what new sorrow that would bring to you."
"But where shall I send this accursed girl?"
"Let her depart for Lyons to-day, even; we have an excellent house in that city, once entered there it would be impossible for her to communicate with the outside. Now, see what we are going to do. The first thing is to go at once to the Palais de Justice; there I shall find an influential person who will recommend me to the king's attorney, in whose hands you will lodge your complaint. After that we will hasten to the convent; among the livery hacks there is always a carriage ready for an emergency; one of our sisters and a steady and resolute man will accompany your niece; you will give your orders to them; in two hours she will be on the route to Lyons, and before the end of the day Captain Horace will be locked in jail, because, as he believes your complaint is withdrawn, he will come out of the retreat which we have not been able to discover. Once this miscreant arrested, and your niece out of Paris, you will see my Lord Appetite run to you, and with a little address — I will help you if you wish it — you will have him at your mercy, and can do with him as you please."
"Dear abbé, you are my saviour!" cried the canon, rising from his seat, his face radiant with hope. "You are a superior man; Father Benoit told me so in Cadiz. Let us go, let us go. I abandon myself blindly to your counsels; everything tells me they are excellent, and that they will place him, who is an angel and a demon to me, in my power for ever."
"Let us go, then, my dear Dom Diégo," said the abbé, hastily putting on his hat, and dragging the canon by the arm.
The moment the canon opened the door of the parlour, he found himself face to face with Doctor Gasterini, who familiarly entered the saintly man's house without announcement.
The abbé was just going to address a word to the doctor, when at a cry from the canon he turned abruptly and saw Dom Diégo, pale, motionless, his gaze fixed, and his hands clasped, and his face expressing all the contradictions of stupor, doubt, anguish, and hope. Finally, addressing the abbé, who comprehended nothing of this sudden emotion, the canon pointed to the doctor and stammered, in a broken voice, "It — is — he."
But Dom Diégo was not able to say more, and overcome by emotion he sat down heavily in a chair, closed his eyes, and fell over in utter weakness.
"The devil! the canon here!" said Doctor Gasterini to himself. "Cursed accident!"
Abbé Ledoux, at the sight of Dom Diégo's collapse, — a pathetic picture, — turned to the doctor, and said:
"I think, really, the canon must be ill. What is the matter with him? Your arrival is fortunate, my dear doctor; wait, — here is a vial of salts, it will assist his breathing."
Hardly was the bottle placed to the nostrils of the canon when he sneezed violently, with a cavernous bellowing, then coming out of his fainting fit, but not having the strength to rise, he turned his languid eyes, suffused with tears, to the doctor, and said, with an accent which he wished to be stern, but which was only tender:
"Ah, cruel man!"
"Cruel!" said the abbé, bewildered, "why do you call the doctor cruel, Dom Diégo?"
"Yes," interposed the physician, perfectly calm and smiling, "what cruelty can you accuse me of, sir?"
"You ask that, you ingrate!" said the canon. "You dare ask that!"
"What! you call the doctor an ingrate!" said the abbé.
"The doctor!" said the canon, "what doctor?"
"Why, my friend, the man to whom you are speaking," said the abbé, "my friend standing there, Doctor Gasterini."
"He!" cried the canon, rising abruptly. "I tell you that is my tempter, my seducer!"
"The devil! he sees him everywhere," said the abbé, impatiently. "I repeat it to you that the gentleman is Doctor Gasterini, my friend."
"And I repeat to you, abbé," cried Dom Diégo, "that the gentleman is the great cook of whom I have spoken to you!"
"Doctor," said the abbé, earnestly, "in the name of Heaven, do explain this blunder."
"There is no blunder at all, my dear abbé."
"What?"
"The canon speaks the truth," replied Doctor Gasterini. "Day before yesterday I had the pleasure of preparing a dish for him; for, in order to have the honour of calling yourself a glutton, you must have a practical acquaintance with the culinary art."
CHAPTER XI
The abbé, amazed, looked at Doctor Gasterini, unable to believe what he had heard; at last he said:
"What! you, doctor, have cooked dishes for Dom Diégo? You! you?"
"Yes, I, my dear abbé."
"A doctor," exclaimed the canon, in his turn amazed, "a physician?"
"Yes, canon," replied Doctor Gasterini, "I am a physician, which does not prevent my being a passable cook."
"Passable!" cried the canon, "say rather, divine! But what means this — "
"I comprehend all!" replied Abbé Ledoux, after having remained silent and thoughtful a moment, "the plot was skilfully contrived."
"What is it that you comprehend, abbé? Of what plot are you talking?" said the canon, who, after his first astonishment, began to wonder how a physician could be such an extraordinary cook. "I pray you explain yourself, abbé!"
"Do you know, Dom Diégo," asked the abbé, with a bitter smile, "who Doctor Gasterini is?"
"But," stammered the canon, wiping the perspiration from his brow, for he had been making superhuman efforts to penetrate the mystery, "everything is so complicated — so strange — that — "
"Doctor Gasterini," cried the abbé, "is the uncle of Captain Horace! Do you understand now, Dom Diégo, the diabolical trick the doctor has played you? Do you understand that he has played upon your deplorable gluttony in order to get such a hold on you that he might induce you to abandon your pursuit of Captain Horace, his nephew, and afterward to induce you to consent to the marriage of your niece and the captain? Do you understand at last to what point you have been duped? Do you see the depth of the abyss you have escaped?"
"My God! this great cook a doctor! And he is the uncle of Captain Horace!" murmured the canon, stunned by the revelation. "He is not a real cook! Oh, illusion of illusions!"
The doctor remained silent and imperturbable.
"Hey, have you been duped enough?" asked the abbé. "Have you played a sufficiently ridiculous rôle? And do you now believe that the illustrious Doctor Gasterini, one of the princes of science, who has fifty thousand a year income, would hire himself to you as a cook? Was I wrong in saying that you had been made a scoff and jeer for other persons' amusement?"
Every word from the abbé exasperated the anger, the grief, and the despair of the canon. The last remark above all. "Do you think the celebrated Doctor Gasterini would hire himself for wages," gave a mortal blow to the last illusions that Dom Diégo cherished. Turning to the doctor, he said, with an ill-concealed anger:
"Ah, sir, do you recollect the evil you have done me? I may die of it, perhaps, but I will have my revenge, if not on you, at least on that rascal, your nephew, and on my unworthy niece, who, no doubt, is also in this abominable intrigue!"
"Well, courage, Dom Diégo; this righteous vengeance will not tarry," said Abbé Ledoux.
Then he turned to the doctor, and said, sarcastically:
"Ah, doctor, you are doubtless a very shrewd, clever man, but you know the best players sometimes lose the best games, and you will lose this one!"
"Perhaps," said the doctor, smiling; "who knows?"
"Come, my dear abbé, come," cried the canon, pale and exasperated; "come, let us see the king's attorney, and then we will hasten the departure of my niece."
And, turning to the doctor, he said:
"To employ arms so perfidious, so disloyal! to deceive a confiding and inoffensive man with this odious Machiavellism! I who have eaten with my eyes shut, I who have taken delight upon the very brink of an abyss! Ah, sir, it is abominable, but I will have my revenge!"
"And this very instant," said the abbé. "Come, Dom Diégo, follow me. A thousand pardons, my dear doctor, to leave you so abruptly, but you understand moments are precious."
The canon, boiling with rage, was about to follow the abbé when Doctor Gasterini said, in a calm voice:
"Canon, a word if you please."
"If you listen to him, you are lost, Dom Diégo!" cried the abbé, dragging the canon with him. "The evil spirit himself is not more insidious than this infernal doctor. Decide for yourself after the trick he has played on you. Come, come!"
"Canon," said the doctor, seizing Dom Diégo by the right sleeve, while the abbé, who held the worthy man by the left sleeve, was using every effort to force him to follow him. "Canon," repeated the doctor, "just one word, I pray you."
"No, no!" said the abbé, "let us flee, Dom Diégo, let us flee this serpent tempter."
And the abbé continued to pull the canon by his right sleeve.
"Just a word," said the physician, "and you will see how much this dear abbé deceives you in my place."
"The Abbé Ledoux deceives me in your place! That is too much by far!" cried Dom Diégo. "How, sir, do you dare?"
"I am going to prove to you what I say, canon," said the doctor, earnestly, as he saw Dom Diégo make an effort to approach him. The abbé, suspecting the canon's weakness, pulled him violently, and said:
"Recollect, unhappy man, that your mother Eve was lost by listening to the first word of Satan. I adjure you, I command you, to follow me this instant! If you give way, unhappy man, take care! One second more, and it is all up with you. Let us go, let us go!"
"Yes, yes, you are my saviour, take me away from here," stammered the canon, disengaging himself from the grasp of the doctor. "In spite of myself, I am already yielding to the incomprehensible influence of this demon. I recall those Guinea fowl eggs with crab gravy, that trout with frozen Montpellier butter, that celestial roast à la Sardanapalus, and already a dim hope — let us fly, abbé, it is time, let us fly."
"Canon," said the doctor, holding on to the arm of Dom Diégo with all his strength, "listen to me, I pray you."
"Vade retro, Satanas!" cried Dom Diégo, with horror, escaping from the doctor's hands.
And dragged along by the abbé, he was on the threshold of the door, when the physician cried:
"I will cook for you as much as you desire, and as long as I shall live, Dom Diégo. Grant me five minutes, and I will prove what I declare. Five minutes, what do you risk?"
At the magic words, "I will cook for you as much as you desire," the canon seemed nailed to the door-sill, and did not advance a step, in spite of the efforts of the abbé, who was too exhausted to struggle against the weight of such a large man.
"You certainly are stupid!" cried the abbé, losing control of himself, "what a fool you are to have any dealings with him!"
"Grant me five minutes, Dom Diégo," urged the doctor, "and, if I do not convince you of the reality of my promises, then give free course to your vengeance. I repeat, what do you risk? I only ask a poor five minutes."
"In fact," said the canon, turning to the abbé, "what would I risk?"
"Go, you risk nothing!" cried the abbé, pushed to the extreme by the weakness of the canon; "from this moment you are lost, a scoff and a jeer. Go, go, throw yourself into the jaws of this monster, thrice dull brute that you are!"
These unfortunate words, uttered by the abbé in anger, wounded the pride of Dom Diégo to the quick, and he replied, with an offended air:
"At least, I will not be brute enough, Abbé Ledoux, to hesitate between the loss of five minutes, and the ruin of my hopes, as weak as they may be."
"As you please, Dom Diégo," replied the abbé, gnawing his nails with anger; "you are a good, greasy dupe to experiment upon. Really, I am ashamed of having pitied you."
"Not such a dupe, Abbé Ledoux, not such a dupe as you may suppose," said the canon, in a self-sufficient tone. "You are going to discover, and the doctor, too, for no doubt he is going to explain himself."
"At once," eagerly replied the doctor, "at once, my lord canon, and very clearly too, very categorically."
"Let us see," said Dom Diégo, swelling cheeks with an important air. "You discover, sir, that I have now powerful reasons for not allowing myself to be satisfied with chimeras, because, as the abbé has said, I would be a good, greasy dupe to permit you to deceive me, after so many cautions."
"Oh, certainly," said the abbé, in his great indignation, "you are a proud man, canon, and quite capable of fighting this son of Beelzebub."
"By which title you mean me, dear abbé," said the doctor, with sardonic courtesy. "What an ingrate you are! I come to remind you that you promised to dine with me to-day. Permit my lord canon, also, — he is not a stranger to our subject, as you will see."
"Yes, doctor," said the abbé, "I did make you this promise, but — "
"You will keep it, I do not doubt, and I will remind you, too, that this invitation was extended in consequence of a little discussion relative to the seven capital sins. Again, canon, I am in the question, and you are going to recognise it immediately."
"It is true, doctor," replied the abbé, with a constrained smile, "I would brand, as they deserve to be, the seven capital sins, causes of eternal damnation to the miserable beings who abandon themselves to these abominable vices, and in your passion for paradoxes, you have dared maintain that — "
"That the seven capital sins have good, in a certain point of view, in a certain measure, and gluttony, particularly, may be made an admirable passion."
"Gluttony!" cried the canon, amazed. "Gluttony admirable!"
"Admirable, my dear canon," replied the doctor, "and that, too, in the eyes of the wisest, and most sincerely religious men."
"Gluttony!" repeated the canon, who had listened to the physician with increasing bewilderment, "gluttony!"
"It is even more, my lord canon," said the doctor, solemnly, "because, for those who are to put it in practice, it becomes an imperious duty to humanity."
"A duty to humanity!" repeated Dom Diégo.
"And, above all, a question of high civilisation and great policy, my lord canon," added the doctor, with an air so serious, so full of conviction, that he imposed on the canon, who cried:
"Hold, doctor, if you could only demonstrate that — "
"Do you not see that the doctor is making you ridiculous?" said the abbé, shrugging his shoulders. "Ah, I told you the truth, unhappy Dom Diégo; you are lost, for ever lost, as soon as you consent to listen to such foolery."
"Canon," the doctor hastened to add, "let us resume our subject, not by reasoning, which, I confess, may appear to you specious, but by facts, by acts, by proofs, and by figures. You are both a glutton and superstitious. You have not the strength to resist your craving for good things; then, your gluttony satisfied, you are afraid of having committed a great sin, which sometimes spoils the pleasure of good cheer, and above all, injures the calmness and regularity of your digestion. Is this not true?"
"It is true," meekly replied the canon, dominated, fascinated by the doctor's words, "it is too true."
"Well, my lord canon, I wish to convince you, I repeat, not by reasoning, however logical it may be, but by visible, palpable facts and by figures, first, that in being a glutton, you accomplish a mission highly philanthropic, a benefit to civilisation and politics; second, that I can, and will be able to make you eat and drink, when you wish, with far more intense enjoyment than the other day."
"And I, I say to you," cried the abbé, appalled by the doctor's assurance, "that if you prove by facts and figures, as you pretend, that to be a glutton is to accomplish a mission to humanity or high civilisation, or is a thing of great political significance, I swear to you to become an adept in this philosophy, as absurd and visionary as it appears."
"And if you prove to me, doctor, that you can open again, and in the future continue to open the doors of the culinary paradise that you opened to me day before yesterday," cried the canon, palpitating with new hope, "if you prove to me that I accomplish a social duty in yielding myself up to gluttony, you will be able to dominate me, I will be your deputy, your slave, your thing."
"Agreed, my lord canon, agreed, Abbé Ledoux, you shall be satisfied. Let us depart."
"Depart?" asked the canon, "where?"
"To my house, Dom Diégo."
"To your house," said the canon, with an air of distrust, "to your house?"
"My carriage is below," replied the doctor; "in a quarter of an hour we will arrive there."
"But, doctor," asked the canon, "why go to your house? What are we going to do there?"
"At my house, only, will you be able to find those visible, palpable proofs of what I have declared, for I have come to remind the dear abbé that to-day is the twentieth of November, the day of the investigation to which I have invited him. But the hour advances, gentlemen, let us depart."
"I do not know if I am dreaming or awake," said Dom Diégo, "but I throw myself in the gulf with my eyes shut."
"You must be the very devil himself, doctor, for my instinct and reason revolt against your paradoxes. I do not believe one word of your promises, yet it is impossible for me to resist the curious desire to accompany you."
The canon and the abbé followed the doctor, entered his carriage with him, and soon the three arrived at the house occupied by the distinguished physician.
