Then Gilquin returned to the subject of the Empress, of whose charitable disposition he spoke in the most laudatory terms. But a short time before her delivery she had devoted whole afternoons to furthering the establishment of an educational institute for poor girls in the Faubourg Saint Antoine. Moreover, she had just refused to accept an offering of 80,000 francs which had been collected in sums of five sous amongst the poorer classes for the purpose of buying a present for the young prince; and by her express desire the money was to be devoted to the apprenticing of a hundred poor orphans. Gilquin, who was already somewhat tipsy, twisted his eyes about in the most dreadful manner as he sought for tender phrases and expressions which should combine the respect of the subject with the passionate admiration of the man. He declared that he would gladly offer up his life in sacrifice at the feet of that noble woman. And nobody protested against this. The murmur of the crowd seemed indeed like a distant echo of his praises. It was now growing into a continuous clamour, while over the house-tops from the bells of Notre Dame rolled peal on peal of clanging, tumultuous joy.
'Don't you think it time for us to go and take our places?' timidly suggested M. Charbonnel, who felt tired of sitting still.
At this Madame Charbonnel rose up and fastened her yellow shawl about her neck. 'Yes, I'm sure it is,' she said. 'You wanted to be there in good time, and we're sitting here and letting everyone go past us.'
Gilquin, however, became indignant; and, with an oath, brought his fist down on the little zinc table. Didn't he know all about Paris? he asked; and then, as Madame Charbonnel timidly dropped upon her chair again, he cried to the waiter: 'Jules, a glass of absinthe and some cigars!'
But as soon as he had dipped his big moustaches in the absinthe, he angrily called the waiter back again. 'Are you having a game with me? Just take this filth away, and give me some out of the other bottle; the same as I had on Friday. I have travelled in the liquor-trade, my fine fellow. You can't bamboozle me.'
He calmed down, however, when the waiter, who seemed afraid of him, had brought the other bottle, and then he tapped the Charbonnels on the shoulders, and called them 'old fellow' and 'old lady.' 'Ah! so you're itching to be on the move, are you, old lady?' said he. 'You'll have plenty of use for your feet between now and to-night, so you needn't be in a hurry. We're very comfortable at this café; don't you think so, old fellow? We can take our ease and watch the people go by. We've plenty of time, I assure you, so you'd better order something else.'