VIZETELLY'S SIXPENNY SERIES
OF AMUSING AND ENTERTAINING BOOKS.
XIII.
THE RED LOTTERY TICKET.
By FORTUNÉ DU BOISGOBEY.
LONDON:
Vizetelly & Co., 42 Catherine Street, Strand,
1887.
THE RED LOTTERY TICKET.
I.
One day early in April, the month when the lilacs flower and when womenbegin to display light apparel, a cab could be seen crossing the bridgewhich spans the Seine between the Faubourg St. Germain and the Louvre,and which is known to the Parisians as the Pont des Saints Pères. Thevehicle was going at a quiet trot, and it was driven by a jovial jehu,who hummed a song as he cracked his whip and jerked his reins. Bothwindows were down, and from each of them came a cloud of bluishsmoke—the smoke of the cigars of two young fellows who were gailychatting inside, and who, although they came from the so-called "LatinQuarter" of Paris, were quite unlike the students immortalised byGavarni's pencil. They were, indeed, dressed with careful taste, anddisplayed none of the questionable manners which may be acquired in thedrinking dens of the Boulevard St. Michel. One of them, a fair-hairedyoung fellow with soft blue eyes, was named George Caumont, and was theson of a Norman cattle breeder, who lived on his land, saving up hiscash, and making his only child an allowance of three thousand francs ayear, so that he might complete, in Paris, the study of law which he hadcommenced at Caen. The other, a dark young man with curly moustaches anda bold expression of face, was the son of a petty nobleman of Périgord,who had left him a heavily mortgaged estate with a somewhathigh-sounding name. He was called Adhémar de Puymirol, and lived upon asmall allowance made him by an aunt who wished him to become a doctor.
He and George Caumont had met shortly after their arrival in Paris, andtheir acquaintance had speedily become intimacy, for they had the sameambition and much the same tastes. They both regarded their presentsituation as a probationary one, hoping sooner or later to contract abrilliant marriage; and they governed themselves accordingly, merelyattending the courts and the clinical lectures when they had nothingbetter to do, and just occasionally passing an examination in order notto discourage Papa Caumont and Aunt Bessèges. But everything comes to anend, and with their relatives grumbling and their creditors barkingloudly, there were days when the thought of the future filled them withdismay. Still, on this beautiful spring morning, everything seemedtinged with a roseate hue, and they even laughed at the enforceddeparture for the provinces apparently so near at hand. "Leave Paris!"said Adhémar, gazing at the scene around him. "Never, George; I wouldrather give lessons in anatomy to freshmen than go and bury myself inPérigord to doctor my aunt's farmers."
"And I," sighed George, "would rather act as a college tutor than devotethe rest of my life to cattle breeding. We are at the end of our tether,unfortunately, and if we don't meet two rich girls before the close ofthe term, we shall be obliged to decamp, for Paris will be too hot forus."
"Ah, well, we will go to one of the watering-places where heiresses aremet."
"You are always so confident!"
"That is the only way to succeed. If our friend Pierre Dargental hadbecome discouraged, we shouldn't now be going to celebrate the close ofhis bachelor life at lunch. Dargental is no better than we are, and yethe has found a widow of title worth more than a million francs.