The Galley Slave's Ring; or, The Family of Lebrenn

And he passed his hand over his eyes as if to drive away the hideous vision.

Soon, however, Lebrenn's face brightened up. He heaved a sigh of relief, as if pleasant thoughts had succeeded the painful ones of just before. His eyes rested delighted, almost moved with affection upon a portrait dated 1463, and bearing the name of Gonthram XII, Sire of Plouernel.

This portrait represented a young man of thirty years of age. He was clad in black velvet and wore the gold collar of the Order of St. Michael. A more sympathetic face it would be difficult to conceive. The looks, and the smile that flitted over the lips of this personage, were expressive of touching melancholy.

"Oh!" said Lebrenn, "the sight of this one rests my mind – calms it – consoles it. Thanks to God, he is not the only one who fell short of the hereditary wickedness of his stock!"

Lebrenn's meditations were interrupted by the entrance of the Count of Plouernel.

Lebrenn was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he started at the entrance of the Count into the hall. Despite his self-control, the linendraper, the descendant of Joel, whose family had, across the ages, so often encountered that of Neroweg in deadly feud, could not help betraying a certain degree of emotion at finding himself face to face with a descendant of this ancient family. Moreover, it should be stated that Lebrenn had been informed by Jeanike of the colonel's frequent peering through the glass windows of his shop. Nevertheless, so far from seeming concerned or irritated, Lebrenn assumed an air of naive and embarrassed simplicity, which the Count of Plouernel attributed to the respectful deference that he would naturally inspire in a resident of St. Denis Street.

The Count, accordingly, addressed the merchant in an accent of patronizing familiarity, pointing him to an easychair, while he let himself down in another.

"Oh, monsieur," said Lebrenn, bowing clumsily, "indeed, you do me great honor – "

"Come, come; no ceremonies, my dear sir," interjected the Count, and he added interrogatingly; "my dear monsieur – Lebrenn – I believe?"

"Lebrenn," answered the merchant, with a bow. "Lebrenn, at your service."

"Very good. I yesterday had the pleasure of seeing Madam Lebrenn, and of mentioning to her a large order I have for linen goods for my regiment."

"Very happy, indeed, we are, monsieur, that you have honored our poor shop with your custom. I came to learn from you how many meters of linen you want, and of what quality. I have here some samples with me," he added, affecting to be busily engaged rummaging in his coat pockets after the samples. "Will it please you to choose – I shall give you the price, monsieur – the exact price – the lowest figure – "

"That's not necessary, dear Monsieur Lebrenn. I can tell you in a few words what I want. I have four hundred and fifty dragoons. I want a supply of four hundred and fifty shirts for them, of good quality. I also wish you to attend to the sewing. Your price shall be mine. You see, dear Monsieur Lebrenn, that I know you to be the very cream of honesty."

"Oh, monsieur!"

"The flower of linendrapers."

"Monsieur, monsieur, you embarrass me. I do not deserve – "

"You do not deserve! Come, my dear Monsieur Lebrenn; on the contrary, you deserve that, and a good deal more."

"Monsieur, I shall hot venture to contradict you. When will you want the shirts?" asked the merchant, rising. "If the matter is urgent, the labor will come somewhat higher."

"Do me the favor, first of all, to resume your seat, my good man! Do not take your leave from me so abruptly. I may have some other orders for you."

"Monsieur, in obedience to your orders I shall sit down again. When will you want the order filled?"

"Toward the end of next month."

"In that case, monsieur, the four hundred and fifty shirts, of good quality, will cost seven francs apiece."

"Very well, upon my honor! That's cheap, my dear Monsieur Lebrenn. That is a compliment that, I suppose, is not often heard from a purchaser, hey?"

"No, it is not at all frequent; that's true, monsieur. But you mentioned some other orders."

"Zounds, my good man! You do not take your eyes from the cards. Your thoughts run to solid business."

"Eh! Eh! monsieur, one is a merchant in order to sell – "

"And are you selling much these days?"

"Hem – hem – so so, indifferently – "

"Indeed? Only so so? Well, so much the worse, my dear Monsieur Lebrenn! That must go against your grain – because I presume you have a family to maintain?"

"You are very considerate, monsieur. I have a son."

"And are you bringing him up to be your successor?"

"That's it, monsieur! He attends the Central School of Commerce."

"How old is the fine fellow? You have only one son, my dear Monsieur Lebrenn?"

"Begging your pardon for contradicting you, I also have a daughter."

"A daughter also! The dear Lebrenn! If she at all looks like her mother she must be a charming girl – "

"Eh! Eh! – she is slender – she is comely – "

"You must be proud of her. Come, confess it!"

"Zounds! I do not deny it, monsieur. More than that I can not say."

"Strange," thought the Count of Plouernel to himself, "the fellow has a curiously old-fashioned style of expression. It must be something peculiar to St. Denis Street. He puts me in mind of my old steward Robert, who brought me up, and who spoke like the people of the previous century."

The Count proceeded aloud:

"Forsooth! Coming to think of it, I should pay a visit to dear Madam Lebrenn."

"Monsieur, she is at your service."

"You should know that I contemplate giving a tournament soon in the large yard of my barracks, where my dragoons are to go through all manner of exercises on horseback. You must promise me to come some Sunday to the rehearsal with Madam Lebrenn; and I wish you to accept, without any compliments, a little collation after we leave the place."

"Oh, monsieur, that's too much honor to us – you overwhelm me – "

"Never mind that; you are joking; is it agreed?"

"May I bring my boy along?"

"Zounds! Of course!"

"And also my daughter?"

"How can you put such a question to me, my dear Monsieur Lebrenn?"

"Indeed, monsieur? You won't object if my daughter – "