Adrift in Pacific and Other Great Adventures – 17 Titles in One Volume (Illustrated Edition). Jules Verne
Читать онлайн книгу.
was silent a second, only a second; then resumed, in a harsh voice this time,—
“It is not enough to have a mistress, but one must have a master in the house, it seems! May Prince Ien strangle them both!”
This second voice was only too easily recognized. It was Nan’s. The disagreeable “old mother” continued to speak after Le-ou’s departure, while the apparatus was in a condition to receive impressions, but without her suspicion that it registered her imprudent words.
Nan was dismissed that very day, and they sent her off without even waiting until the last days of the seventh moon.
Maid-servants and valets, beware of phonographs!
1 M. T. Choutzé, in his book of travels, entitled “Pekin and the North of China,” relates the following in regard to Prince Kong, an incident which is worth remembering:—
“In 1870, during the sanguinary war which desolated France, Prince Kong made a visit—I do not know on what occasion—to all the foreign diplomatic representatives. It was through the legation of France, the first which he met, that he made this round of calls. The news of the disaster of Sedan had just been received; and the Count of Rochechouart, then minister of French affairs, told it to Prince Kong, who, calling one of the officers of his suite, said,—
“‘Take a card to the Prussian legation, and say that I cannot call till to-morrow.’ Then, turning to Count Rochechouart, he added,—
“‘I cannot decently pay a visit of congratulation to the representative of Germany on the same day that I offer condolences to the representative of France.’
“Prince Kong would be a prince everywhere.”
CHAPTER XV.
Which Certainly Contains A Surprise For Kin-Fo, And Perhaps For The Reader.
There was now no obstacle in the way of the marriage of the wealthy Kin-Fo of Shang-hai with the amiable Le-ou of Pekin. In six days the time would expire in which Wang was to fulfil his promise; but the unfortunate philosopher had paid for his mysterious flight with his life.
There was nothing henceforth to fear. The wedding could take place; and the appointed time was the 25th of June, which Kin-Fo had wished to make the last day of his life.
The young woman now understood every thing, and knew through what vicissitudes he had passed, who, although refusing once to make her wretched, and again to make her a widow, had now returned, free at last, to make her happy.
But Le-ou, on hearing of the death of the philosopher, could not restrain a few tears. She knew and liked him; for he was the first confidant of her feelings towards Kin-Fo.
“Poor Wang!” she said. “How we shall miss him at our wedding!”
“Yes, poor Wang!” replied Kin-Fo, who also mourned the companion of his youth, and friend of twenty years’ standing. “But still,” he added, “he would have killed me according to his oath.”
“No, no!” said Le-ou, shaking her pretty head: “perhaps he sought death beneath the waves of the Pei-ho, only to avoid keeping that frightful promise.”
Alas! the supposition was only too credible, that Wang had preferred to drown himself in order to escape the obligation of fulfilling his agreement.
On this point Kin-Fo and the young woman agreed; and there were two hearts from which the philosopher’s image would never fade.
As a matter of course, after the catastrophe at the Palikao bridge, the Chinese newspapers stopped issuing the Hon. William J. Bidulph’s ridiculous advertisements; so Kin-Fo’s annoying renown died away as quickly as it had been created.
And now, what was to become of Craig and Fry? They were commissioned to protect the Centenary’s interests till the 30th of June,—that is to say, for ten days longer; but, in truth, Kin-Fo did not now need their services. Was it to be feared that Wang would attack his person? No, since he was no longer in existence. Had they any reason to fear that their charge would lift a suicidal hand against himself? None whatever. Kin-Fo asked only to live, to really live, and for the longest possible time. Therefore there was no longer a need of Fry-Craig’s unceasing watch.
But, after all, these two originals were worthy men; and, if their devotion was paid only to the patron of the Centenary, it was none the less every moment very earnest and faithful. Kin-Fo begged them to be present at the wedding festivities, and they accepted his invitation.
“Besides,” jokingly observed Fry to Craig, “marriage is sometimes suicide.”
“One gives away his life while preserving it,” answered Craig, with an amiable smile.
The day after her departure Nan was replaced in the house in Cha-Coua Avenue by a more suitable person. An aunt of Le-ou, Madame Lutalou, had come to fill the part of mother to her till the wedding-ceremony. Madame Lutalou, the wife of a mandarin of the fourth rank of the second order of the blue button, who was the former imperial lecturer and member of the Academy of Han-Sin, possessed all the moral and physical qualities necessary to worthily perform her important duties.
As for Kin-Fo, as he was not one of those Celestials who are fond of the neighborhood of courts, he expected to leave Pekin after his marriage, and would only be truly happy when his young wife was settled in the elegant yamen in Shang-hai.
He was obliged to choose a temporary apartment; and he found what he needed in the Tine-Fou-Tang, the Temple of Celestial Happiness,—a very comfortable hotel and restaurant, situated near the boulevard of Tiene-Men between two Tartar and Chinese cities. There also boarded Craig and Fry, who, through habit, could not make up their minds to leave their charge. Soun had resumed his duties, always grumbling, but taking good care not to remain near any indiscreet phonograph. Nan’s adventure made him somewhat prudent.
Kin-Fo had the pleasure of meeting two Canton friends at Pekin,—the merchant Yin-Pang and the literary man Houal. Besides these he knew a few dignitaries and merchants in the capital, all of whom considered it a duty to offer their assistance on this great occasion.
This once indifferent man, this immovable pupil of the philosopher, was now really happy.
Kin-Fo spent the time not given to preparations for the wedding with Le-ou, who was happy when with her lover. What need was there of supplying her with the costliest presents from the most magnificent stores in the capital so long as he was her dearest treasure? She thought only of him, and constantly repeated to herself the sage maxims of the celebrated Pan-Hoei-Pan,—
“If a woman has a husband after her own heart, she will have a lifelong blessing.
“A wife should have unlimited respect for him whose name she bears, and keep a constant watch over herself.
“A wife should only be the shadow and the mere echo of her husband.
“The husband is the heaven of the wife.”
Meanwhile the preparations for the wedding, which Kin-Fo wished to have as brilliant as possible, were progressing.
In the house in Cha-Coua Avenue the thirty pair of embroidered shoes, which are a necessity to the trousseau of a Chinese bride, were ranged along in a row. The sweetmeats of the house of Sinuyane, preserves, dried fruits, burnt almonds, barley-candy; with plum, orange, ginger, and Indian-orange sirups; superb silks; jewels of precious stones and of finely chiselled gold; and rings, bracelets, finger-nail cases, pins for the hair, etc., and all the charming fancies of Pekin,—were profusely displayed in Le-ou’s boudoir.
In this strange Central Empire, when a young girl marries, she brings no