The Launching of Roger Brook

eyes, for his beloved.

In the week that followed, however, he met with real good fortune in another direction. On the Tuesday word ran round the house that Madame Leger was at last expected back from Paris on the coming Friday, and from the pleased looks of his colleagues it was clear to Roger that this lady was universally popular with her household. She arrived by the diligence that set its passengers down at the Hotel des Postes at six in the evening, and at that hour the whole staff crowded into the hallway to welcome her on her return.

As one of the most junior among them Roger modestly took his place right at the back of the hall, so on her entrance his view of her was obscured by the tall, pimply Monestot, who was standing in front of him. It was only by peering round Monestot's shoulder that he managed to see that she was a woman of about twenty-seven, with remarkably fine blue eyes but a sadly receding chin.

For the past few days Roger had been anticipating her home­coming with considerable uneasiness. Although on his first arrival Maitre Leger had given him out to be his wife's cousin no further reference had been made to this fictitious relationship, and Roger was now afraid that by this time the lawyer might have either forgotten all about it or neglected to prime his wife upon the point.

His fears were soon set at rest. While Madame's baggage was being carried in by willing hands she seemed to have a kind word for every­body; then, suddenly pausing in her loquacious greetings, she looked round the crowded hall and cried: 'But where is my young cousin, Roje Breuc?'

Much relieved, Roger came forward, and was about, to make her his most gallant leg, but, after one quick look of approval, she placed her hands on his shoulders and gave him a hearty kiss on either cheek.

Next moment she broke into a spate of swift questions about people of whom he had never even heard. How had he left Aunt Berdon? Was Cousin Marote married yet? How was Uncle Edmond's gout? It was so long since she had seen them all and she was positively dying to hear all the news.

Since none of her questions called for an answer that he could not easily invent, Roger entered into the game with zest, and even went so far as to give her tidings of entirely non-existent people. She appeared much amused at his quick wit and, before going upstairs to change out of her travelling clothes, tapped him on the arm and said: 'Thou shalt tell me more of the gossip of Strasbourg, little cousin, over dinner.' And when dinner-time came Maitre Leger sent the servant girl Aimee to fetch him.

The party consisted of Maitre Leger and Madame Leger, Manon Prudhot, Brochard and Roger. The meal was a gala one and all of them were in high good humour. At first, Roger was a little nervous that he might over-play his hand and arouse the suspicions of the sharp-eyed Brochard, but he had ample time to get accustomed to his new surroundings since, to begin with, Madame almost monopolised the conversation by regaling them with an account of her last weeks in the capital.

In due course, however, obviously enjoying the part she was called on to play, she asked him further questions about her relatives in Strasbourg. His replies were as prompt as before and once more he invented a few amusing stories, but he was suddenly disconcerted by Manon saying:

'I am, of course, of the Leger side of the family, but I must confess that I have never heard of half these relatives you mention.'

Quickly recovering himself he smiled at her. 'That is quite under­standable, Mademoiselle. My family is an exceptionally large one and even Madame, here, may scarcely remember some of these people of whom I have been speaking.'

'Have you, perhaps, also relatives in England?' Brochard inquired with apparent unconcern.

Roger instantly realised that the question was inspired by a still unsatisfied curiosity about the letter he had received and, knowing that others would be arriving for him as time went on, he determined on a bold course.

'Why, yes, Monsieur,' he replied, amiably. 'My godmother married an Englishman by the name of Jackson, and she now lives there. Only last spring I spent some months at their home in Hampshire and 'tis to that visit I owe my slight knowledge of English.'

'I had quite forgotten that,' remarked Maitre Leger with his dry smile and, evidently wishing to amuse himself by testing Roger's powers of invention further, he began to question him about his visit.

Here, although it remained unrealised by anyone present, Roger was naturally on much safer ground, and he was able to provoke much hearty laughter by relating what he knew they would regard as some of the strange and barbarous customs of their hereditary enemies. But he also took occasion to establish the fact that he and his 'god­mother' doted on each other and kept up a regular correspondence.

At the close of the meal Maitre Leger took occasion to say that he found his young protege such excellent company that he must dine with them again sometime.

On this Madame raised the well-marked eyebrows above her big blue eyes and exclaimed: 'Do'st mean to tell me that thou hast allowed my young cousin to feed all this while with the apprentices in the kitchen! For shame. Monsieur! In future he must take his meals with us.'

'You are most kind, Madame,' Roger demurred, fearing that Maitre Leger might not approve, 'but I have no wish to intrude, or to slight my colleagues by appearing to have sought a place above them.'

'Nay,' said the lawyer, with a kindly smile, ' 'twill be no intrusion, as Madame likes to have young people about her. You can tell the others that it is Madame's desire on account of the relationship you bear her.'

Thus, through Maitre Leger's original prevarication and Roger's own ready wit, a new, broader and far happier life suddenly opened out for him. He dined each night at leisure in comfortable surroundings and enjoyed good talk. In addition he was granted the use of the parlour afterwards, where he sometimes played cards with Madame and Manon, and at others read books from Maitre Leger's well-stocked shelves. Sometimes, too, the family invited friends in for a musical evening, so Roger took up the bass-viol; but he had no ear and did little credit to the Leger quartet in their renderings of chamber music.

In the first week of December he saw Athenais again, but, once more, only a fleeting glimpse of her as she drove past him in her coach, and she was not looking in his direction. The mystery of her non-reappearance at the Cathedral remained unsolved, but, at least he had the satisfaction of knowing that it was not due to illness. Her little face, framed now that winter had come in a fur hood, looked as lovely as ever and remarkably healthy.

That afternoon he was further cheered by receiving a reply to his second letter to his mother; in it she said that she had despatched all his clothes and other things that she thought might be useful to him in a spare sea- chest of his father's, as it had a stout lock and being strongly made would travel well. Then, on the twentieth of the month, he had a note from the authorities to say that it had arrived by barge from St. Malo and was down at the quay awaiting collection.

To his annoyance he found that he had to pay a heavy duty upon certain of the articles it contained, but Brochard advanced him the money to cover this, and it was a great joy to have a good store of clothes and certain possessions of his own again. He explained the arrival of the chest and its contents by saying that they were the things he had taken with him to England on his visit to his godmother the previous spring, and he had expected them to have reached Rennes by the time of his own arrival; hence his arriving there so ill-provided, but for several months the chest had been lost in transit.

After a careful sorting out he sold about a third, of his things, which enabled him to repay the advance he had had and left him enough money over to buy small Christmas presents for the Legers, Manon, Brochard and Quatrevaux. As they were accustomed to exchange gifts at the New Year they were somewhat surprised at receiving his presents on the 25th, but Maitre Leger unconsciously saved him from the slip by remarking that the Germans always kept Weihnachtsfest instead of Nouvelle Annie.

When the New Year came his tactful gifts at Christmas were more than repaid. Quatrevaux had told Manon something of the dance that Hutot led Roger and she had told Madame Leger. In conse­quence the two women had cleared out a little boxroom on a half-landing and furnished it as a bedroom; then on New Year's morning they blindfolded Roger, led him upstairs and removed the bandage when he was in his new abode.

It was a tiny place and had no window, but it was his own and meant an end of getting up at all sorts of godless hours to lower the rope for Hutot; so Roger could not have been more delighted, and his two laughing benefactresses were amply repaid for the trouble they had taken by the pleasure he showed.

Thus, with the New Year of 1784 Roger entered on a far happier period than he had known for some time. His work was still monotonous, his prospects entirely uninspiring and his affair with Athenais at a standstill; but he was free of Hutot; well fed, comfortably clothed and housed, and accepted as a member of a pleasant, laughter- loving family.