Tom Browning's Schooldays
By
Joel
Chapter SeventyOne
'Not long for this world' sounded most ominous. I'd heard it before when aged or infirm villagers had been discussed. Usually it was a phrase of my mother's as she would have made a visit to the cottage to dispense some good food or broth. Charlotte Fontane had said her father-in-law was not in the best of health but I had supposed she was referring to his very bad limp.
Lancelot was looking at me. "Tom, did you not notice his breathing?"
Thinking about it, I remembered the shortness of breath had been mentioned and I had noticed the slight gasping when he made any effort to exert himself. I said about both things.
Lancelot nodded. "Did you not also notice the whiteness of his fingers even though his hands were browned by the sun?"
I shook my head. This I felt was going to be an inquisition.
"As I have said before, Tom, you must take note of many things and put them all together." This echoed 'notice the small things' of my Uncle Digby. He held up a hand and counted off "Fingers, shortness of breath, tremor of the hands, a weakness of the left arm. I would say his heart is beginning to fail." He smiled. "I also noted a small bottle of tincture of digitalis on a shelf in the kitchen. It is not something I would have left with a patient to doctor themselves but his own physician must have discerned that his heart was in trouble."
"Would these signs be sufficient for you to make the judgement about the time he may have left?" I asked.
"No, there was more. When he was at the mausoleum he had difficulty breathing deeply and I saw him wince and hold his left arm more than once. He also did this both in the house and when he came to bid farewell. That is a sure sign his heart is not in best condition. I have seen it many times before, and apoplexy is sure to follow." He paused. "There is a name for his condition. He has, in my opinion, angina pectoris. It was described by a physician at Cambridge not so many years ago and it was discussed when I was a student there."
"Is this another condition physicians can describe but do not know how to cure?"
"Tom, as I have said many times before we physicians know there are many illnesses we cannot cure but we can aid the patient in alleviating discomfort or pain. Those pains he has will continue though digitalis might allow his heart to beat more calmly but, I am afraid, it will not prevent an untimely end."
"A matter of time," Robin said quietly. "He seemed such a good man though perhaps cruel to his daughter."
"We have had the same in Careby," Lancelot said, then fell silent. Did he mean cases of apoplexy or errant daughters? I knew of the coachman who had drawn up at the Varley Arms and had fallen unconscious then dead before his master and his wife could alight. Lancelot had been called and the pair of ninnies were still seated afraid of what was lying in the roadway. Apoplexy was the verdict. But what of daughters? I had little knowledge of girls other than my doting older sisters and the giggling young housemaids. Then I remembered the pair of lovers who had been sent on their separate ways. Of course, there was my own Robin and his making.
"We cannot judge others in such matters," Lancelot said breaking my thoughts. "Monsieur Fontane is a proud man and has a place in his society. An errant daughter must reflect badly and it could not have been some minor matter."
Robin was nodding. "Marie fell for a child with that Scotchman. There is no wonder she would not want her father and mother to know that."
Lancelot looked over at the card-players. It was a situation as at Fontainebleau. "I was reminded when you said she went to the theatre and opera with young men of what I have seen when I was a student here. You must not repeat this but many times when I attended performances I witnessed young girls with men who could be old enough to be their fathers in the boxes, or drinking and carousing in the bars outside. Marie said she had received presents. My friends would point out the jewellery they were wearing and laugh." He shook his head and said no more. I could hardly ask if he had caroused, too.
Robin was more insistent than me. "The Scotchman was honourable though and married her." He stopped and looked down. My brother Torquil had not been honourable but he had been sent away to join the military immediately after that fateful discovery.
Lancelot reached out and took his hand. "Robin, we cannot turn back time."
I reached and held his other hand. "Robin, we have each other and our families and the love..."
A tear trickled down his cheek. "I am confused. I have so much but could have had nothing."
"Then you must strive to show your worth," Lancelot said quietly. "I have no fear that you will not succeed in any enterprise." He smiled. "You outdo me. You have two good families and I have but one."
Robin sniffed but raised a smile. "That is true. I am so grateful but it is when I compare my life with others less fortunate than me that I think it could all so suddenly come to an end. Is it a dream?"
Lancelot gave a little laugh. "I should stick a pin in your arm and see if you wake up, eh?" He squeezed Robin's hand which made him wince. "I jest. You are Robin who, as I have said, will succeed."
I looked at my dearest friend, nay, far more than a friend, more even than a brother. I could never let him go. I was sad, too. Though Marie Fontane had become married her husband was lost. I could but hope her son would have the love and care such as bestowed on my dear Robin.
The game of cards was ending. The Comte saw we had finished our tˆte-...-tˆte and signalled we should all receive a final glass of wine before we went off to bed. "My dears, it will be a busy day," he announced as our glasses were filled. "My dear boys are accustomed to my demands but with such honoured guests as you..." Here an expansive gesture. "...and I include those precious nephews of mine, there is much to arrange." He stood and drank down his wine. "I bid you adieu but there is no need to hurry to your beds, the carafes are yours." A hand was waved and he strode off followed by Fran‡ois and Fabrice.
I was tired and I had much to comfort my Robin over. I held his hand as we stood. Robin took command. "I need sleep if I am to play tomorrow." I let go as he mimed playing his violin.
"And I shall need my breath," I added.
Valentine was ready with a sconce and preceded us up the grand stairway. Robin took the sconce from him as we reached the door of our room. "Tu es fatigu‚ aussi, Valentine?"
He smiled. "Mais oui, Monsieur." Robin indicated he should go. He bowed his head. "Bonne nuit, Messieurs."
We entered our room and Robin set the sconce down. The four candles were enough to light the room dimly, just enough to see the commode and to undress. Being neat we folded our clothes and set them on the wide sofa. The commode was well-used and I was in bed first. Neither of us had bothered to don our nightshirts and I needed to have Robin close to me, skin to skin, so I could convey my deepest feelings to my dearest friend.
We held each other and I whispered that whatever might ensue I was his and he was mine. He kissed my nose, cheeks and then my lips and as we lay together we shed our sweet juices between us with hardly a movement. We knew we were as one. We did not need to speak.
Before we slept I did make an effort to mop our effusions or the sheet would have been stained. Robin held me tight after I dropped the discarded stocking. We kissed and settled to sleep.
We woke together knowing that someone had silently entered the room. It was morning and I saw it was Fabrice. He looked rather sorrowful. I smiled at him and his expression changed a little.
"Messieurs, may I speak?" he asked the last in English. I nodded. He took a breath. "My friends say you were sad last night. It is not the concert?" He pronounced the last word in the French way. "We say you play very well."
I assume he and the other servants had noted our long discussion with Lancelot. Yes, there was no smiling in that.
"Fabrice, please tell them we are most happy to play." In French I said we had received some unfortunate information in the morning but it was nothing we were able to deal with in France.
He did smile then. He then said in most understandable French that the Count was a kind master and they would be sad if he was sad.
Robin leaned over me and took Fabrice's hand. "Nous sommes heureux. Et tu aussi, mon ami."
Fabrice did not know how to answer. Here was someone of higher station calling him 'friend'! I put my hand out. "Tu es mon ami aussi!" Not only a friend but we had used 'tu' which I knew was only used with intimates.
"Messieurs, merci," was his only reply. He turned and left the room as silently as he had entered. However, he had left a large pitcher of hot water!
As we started the routine of rising and getting dressed in everyday clothes I said we should talk to the twins and ask their opinion. Had we transgressed some boundary between master and servant here in France as we would have were we in England? I was so used to the permissive way in which servants like Benjy and Jabez were treated when with me that I felt they were friends. I explained this to Robin who said he felt the same even though I treated him still as my groom. As both of us were still naked though newly washed it was a matter of seconds before he was tussled to the floor and wrestled into submission. It was easy enough for he was laughing having riled me. No, I was not riled, but ready for my Robin again. Yes, he was as ready for me as well. Without a thought that the servants might appear to act as valets our ever ready pizzles were laved and sucked and delivered their morning bounty. This we shared and then had to make our sweaty bodies clean again. We thanked Fabrice in his absence for bringing such a brimming pitcher!
How should we plan our day? We would need to practice separately and together before we all met at six o'clock for that last rehearsal. We had to find time to be fitted with our tail suits to match the other players. I hoped they would not be frayed and old like the ancient livery which Squire Matthews' butler wore. We knew the guests would arrive at seven and the dinner would be served a half hour after that and the concert should begin at nine. We decided we would not partake of more than a glass of wine and would not gorge ourselves on whatever might be served or our bellies might rumble and farts might accompany the horns!
Our toilet completed, as a clock chimed eight, we collected our instrument cases and went down to the breakfast room. The twins were already seated and chaffing Valentine who was pouring them elegant beakers of tisane. The rapid French was difficult to follow but I gathered they were asking if they might join the band and what should they learn to play. I also heard them address him as 'tu' which eased me. Valentine must have known their ways as he was smiling and then waved his hands in a dismissive way. I think he said their uncle did not have time for them to learn anything more than play a drum or, even, pump the organ. He coloured as we entered. Here was a servant found making a jest with the young masters.
Martin must have seen his discomfort. "We are not musicians, Valentine. We are content to listen," he said in French and smiled up at the black-haired handsome young man. Martin and Alain then greeted us most formally with a bow and handshake each. Valentine stood back but I did smile at him. He was a musician!
We were served with the tisane and chose our usual French breakfast of cheeses, thin slices of ham and well-buttered bread. The twins then said they were bent on seeing the river and the boats upon it. Robin indicated our cases we had placed on a table and said that would have to be a pleasure for us on another visit. Alain said he was looking forward to the concert. His brother added "And also the dinner!" Through Martin we ascertained that Valentine and the others would be able to rehearse with us for an hour this morning until half past ten. "You will be able to accompany us after that," said Alain. "We will find a caf‚ for our luncheon and as it will be hot we can return for a siesta. There is good shade in the garden."
We were joined then by Lancelot and Jabez who both said they had letters to write. I had a prick of conscience as I had not written home since we had stopped in Riom what now seemed many days ago. As we had finished and Lancelot had brought his writing case down with him both Robin and I begged a sheet of paper and using his ink pot and a scratchy pen wrote more than swiftly to my parents and to Robin's. Lancelot said he would see they went to the mail and checked the addresses were clearly inscribed 'Angleterre'.
Our impromptu rehearsal went well. Valentine was an excellent bandmaster. He kept the tempo well and must have known all the different parts as he sang out phrases which were missing. Robin thanked him most profusely as we ended. I turned and smiled at the others and gave a guarded wink to Fabrice who was holding onto his cello. I essayed "TrŠs bon, trŠs bon, merci!" which caused a grin.
The twins were waiting patiently in the Library when we returned from leaving our instruments in our room. The books in serried ranks looked so new in their bright bindings. Alain had a slim volume in his hand. "There are five of this one all in a row. I doubt if they are meant to be read."
"Just to be admired," said Martin who was lolling in a deep armchair. "Let us depart."
The four-seater chaise was ready waiting. It was beginning to get hot and I realised how stinking Paris, or London, must be in the even hotter month of August. The river seemed little better as the water was more than murky and pipes discharged all manner of ordure as boats were rowed past their outflows, just out of danger. Martin said we could walk across a bridge and then visit one of the many churches as he wanted to see the one built where Roman soldiers had been martyred. We found the church but the sacristan said the Romans had been martyred by Nero in Rome and not here. Notwithstanding the church was very spacious and I could see a fine organ. The sacristan was somewhat wary of four boys staring about themselves so followed us about but he was most interesting as he said there had been famous organists here for many years all from the same family. He could not remember the name but an old priest was seated below the altar steps and said their name was Couperin. Both Robin and I smiled. Mr Skrimshire had shown us a book of pieces with that name inscribed on the cover. I could not remember if he had played any but he had said they were written to accompany parts of the Romish Mass.
We spent some time looking around at statues and memorials as the interior was cool. There was also the heavy scent of incense which Alain said was used to symbolise the rising of prayers to Heaven. As we looked around there was a steady stream of mainly old women who came in, bent their knee and crossed themselves and dipped their fingers in water in bowls jutting from the wall. Martin told us this was Holy Water blessed first by the priests and used by the people to renew their baptismal promises. He knew no more so this was something to ask Uncle Dodd about.
As we came out we were almost surrounded by beggars. "Watch your purses!" Alain called out and not before time as I felt some child hold onto my leg while his companion, not much older and bigger, tried to slip his hand into my pocket. A sharp slap made them run off. An old crone turned and spat at them and shouted something which sounded like a curse. She was rattling a tin cup. Alain called out again. "Those children were with her. Give her nothing!" We hurried away and no doubt received her curses as well.
Alain said that families of beggars went around together and, because people might think the old crone had also frightened off the pickpockets, they would reward her. It was all a ploy to relieve people of their money in more ways than one!
Free of that encounter we strolled under the trees back towards the H"tel de Ville which looked quite ruinous in places. We could see the vast N"tre Dame cathedral on the island but having seen inside once we walked on. There was much to see with all the stalls set up with shops and houses behind. I said to Martin I would like to give the four servants in the orchestra a small present. I then remembered it would be five as I could not leave out the young gardener who played the horn. Robin said he had the same idea. What could we give them? Boys have little idea of what pleases them but handkerchiefs are always being lost or dirtied. Martin spied a small haberdashery and it was perfect. Two handkerchiefs each were soon purchased and wrapped in separate packets. The old lady was most amused at the sight of grown boys sifting through her wares but was delighted when we bought only the best. Luckily those ruffianly beggars had not delved into my pockets!
We saw another church but only looked at its exterior as again it was undergoing repair. Alain said it was also named after St Germanus and was where there had been a massacre of the Huguenots many years ago. It was something I had heard about from Uncle Dodd but it was vague. Martin said he thought many thousands had been slaughtered but he knew not why. Alain said he was sure they were Protestants so had been killed because they were not Catholic. Again I was aware that religion seemed to be a reason for death and destruction.
I recognised the looming buildings of the Louvre in front of us but we had now to cross the river. We paid our toll and walked across the iron bridge and there was our chaise in front of a respectable-looking restaurant. Martin said he and Alain would pay for our luncheon as they had enjoyed our company and companionship. He made a sad face. "We shall soon be home and then to school."
"Do not be miserable," his brother said. "We have until September." Alain grinned at Robin and me. "I am being selfish. We shall be this side of the water and you will have been on that railway again. No doubt we shall find things to do and keep us occupied."
Martin was patting his stomach. "I wish to be occupied now with reading what is on offer." First though he marched up to the chaise where the coachmen were waiting patiently. Our parcels were stowed away and coins were passed. Hats were touched with whips in thanks. "My duty," Martin said and led us into the restaurant and through to a shaded courtyard behind. "Our father has brought us here before," he explained as a smartly dressed waiter helped us to our seats. There were a number of other diners already seated. "A good sign. It is popular."
The plat du jour was lapin fricass‚ and this was chosen by all of us. While we waited for that main course two small platters of tasty amuse-bouches were placed before us. Alain had suggested a light red wine to accompany the meal. We noted we were being watched and discussed most probably as being the youngest 'men about town' in our smart London clothes.
I wondered if when I became a physician I might wish to live in Paris if the food was always as good as this. All our meals had been different and Robin and I had sampled so many new things... ...I remembered we had not yet had frogs, or whatever parts of frogs were served. This thought was firmly placed to the back of my mind as four boys attacked their platters of most tasty rabbit. Mrs Gray prided herself on her roast rabbit, or her rabbit stew, but here was a combination of herbs which made this dish taste so different. The tarte au pˆches with thick fresh cream would have completed the meal for me but Martin said we should sit and have a cup of coffee as that was the custom. "Gentlemen usually smoke," he said with a grin.
Robin looked around at us. "I do not have a cigar."
"He did say gentlemen!" I said and received a kicked ankle under the table.
To pay l'addition Martin had to go to where an elderly lady was sitting behind an ornamented iron grill. I heard her ask him if we had enjoyed our meal. He said we had and that he had eaten here before with his father. Madame seemed most pleased at this and reached down and handed him four bon-bons. Young gentlemen may not smoke but are allowed a bon-bon which were usually given to children Martin added as we laughingly received our gifts and clambered into the waiting chaise.
The good meal had made me sleepy and the heat of the day was oppressive. It was with some relief we reached Uncle Philippe's house and sat almost comatose in the shade of the garden. A clever gardener had planted many scented bushes so we were surrounded by their sweetness rather than the stench of the roadway. We were only roused when glasses of tisane and a platter of pastries were brought out to us. Too lazy to go inside a naughty Alain went behind a bush to relieve an over-full bladder. Why did the sound of running water set off those particular feelings? Three more of us helped to water the shrubs and I hoped those outpourings would not change the aroma of the flowers.
Just before six o'clock we all roused ourselves. We repaired to our rooms to get dressed for the evening. Lo and behold! There were two tail-suits, white waistcoats and cravats awaiting Robin and me. All had been pressed and made ready so we changed, wondering if we might look a pair of scarecrows. No, we looked most smart as we twirled around before the pier-glass. They fitted us perfectly! As we would be having dinner first we changed to our new waistcoats and admired the young gentlemen reflected in the mirror. We looked through our booklets of parts and sang phrases until we had the giggles. This passed the time so as the clock chimed six we were ready to enter the salon. We were the last to arrive and bowed our apologies to the Count who was playing rapid scales on the piano while the other players were bowing or blowing. I noted all the orchestra were in tail suits and the two oboists had matched their hair, so they looked like twins, too.
We took our places and one of the oboes played an A. I was in tune with that and watched and waited while the strings got themselves in tune. The Count stood and held up a finger.
"Messieurs, la Symphonie. 'L'Andante' s'il vous plaŒt."
I turned my pages and, of course, this was where I had all those bars rest to begin with. I listened carefully so was ready as the violins made their downward phrase. I was in time and the Count was satisfied. We were then asked to turn back to the opening movement, the 'Allegro Spiritoso'. Again, just twenty or so bars and he was pleased with what he heard. We then had to turn to the Mozart Concerto. There were four places where he had an entry and wanted to make sure we were not playing too fast. That was that. The others would be repairing to another room where their meal would be served. I heard Valentine whisper to Robin "Pas beaucoup du vin, Monsieur!" and Robin gave him a dig with his bow.
I needed to play one particular passage of the Greene on the organ as it always needed careful fingering. I asked Fabrice if he would pump for me. The two oboists followed us to the already opened instrument. I set the stops and played that tricky passage three times. Yes, I knew it now. I smiled at Fabrice. "Le commencement." He filled the windchest again and I played through the whole piece adding the stops exactly where I wanted. I thought as long as my fingers did not get sticky I would get through with no errors. As I finished so the pair standing behind me gave a little applause between them. I smiled and left them and I heard them asking Fabrice about the instrument.
Jabez was sitting in the hallway by the salon door and stood as I approached. "I have not heard such good sounds since old Mother Caudle caught her hand in a shutting door. Her screeches matched those from that wind box!" He laughed as I essayed a sneer.
"Jabez, I shall tell old Mother Caudle to set her besom against your arse. She has done that many times and your screeches would be enough to waken the dead!"
"Amen to that," was the rogue's reply. There was more. "Your cousin has said I must see you do not drink more than a glass of wine and you and Milord Robin are to escort the Minister's two sisters into dinner. I hear they are pretty. That is, pretty old." He took my arm. "Tom, I do hope I will not make a fool of myself. I have watched many at dinner but this will be so different."
I looked at him. In his tail-suit he looked most handsome. "Jabez, be yourself. I warrant you will be able to tell some tale to amuse whoever sits next to you."
"I will try," he said quietly. "I have seen the seating. I am between Madame Duplessis who is the Commandant's wife and his daughter Mademoiselle Marguerite. You are next to her and have Madame la Comtesse de Beauvoir, who is one of the Minister's sisters, on your other side." He screwed his face up. "It is all too much for a poor boy!"
"At least you will not have to try and speak French. Smile nicely and do not put a hand near the Mademoiselle's leg," I said trying to be stern.
"But what if she drops her chicken bone after gnawing it. I would have to rescue it. That would be polite." I had to snigger as he did smile then. "I have learned much in the time I have had with Sir Digby and more on these travels. I have studied the way those gentlemen I admire behave in good company and will do my best."
I smiled back at him. "Jabez, have no fear, I am sure Robin and I will quake a little, too."
There was not much time now until seven o'clock and we were to assemble in the Library so we went along the corridor to that room where we found Robin and the twins. There was another tapestry on a wall which they were studying. This was similar to the other also showing fields and trees with a river but was much wider. It had a most elaborate border of flowers and leaves. Martin said this was another found in the attic and showed where small repairs had been made. Alain said he had looked at more books but there was nothing he wished to read. "Histories of France and sermons in Latin. The outsides are more cheerful than the insides!"
Just after the clock struck seven there was commotion outside. Guests were arriving. Lancelot was missing. He came hurrying in looking different. He had had his hair curled at the ends and, for Lancelot, looked less untidy than usual! The Comte brought the first guests in himself. These were the Commandant, his wife and two daughters. He was in full dress uniform with a most elegant lady on his arm. The daughters were also elegant and were a little older than the twins, I thought. Their bonnets were decorated most lavishly with flowers and ribbons. The Comte introduced us all and I found that Marguerite had a little English and wanted to speak more. Gradually other guests arrived and as they entered so they were supplied with flutes of champagne. I had asked for 'une moiti‚' and a half glass had been handed to me. Two other guests were introduced as 'Comte'. Each had a beautifully-dressed wife with them. Two junior officers were alone and were immediately by the side of the Commandant's daughters. I saw the twins were not too happy at this. A tall man with spiky mustachios was the singer from the Opera. He had been in London many times and was quite fluent in English. His wife seemed much younger than him and did nothing but simper and smile. I thought my father would have called her 'feather-brained'! The Minister and his two sisters were the last to arrive. He did not seem so corpulent but Lancelot nudged me and whispered 'corsets!'. I had noticed that article flung over a chair in the bedroom at Fontainebleau and knew that many men wore them to give themselves a good figure. It was surmised at Ashbourne that Mr Pratt wore them or 'his belly would flop to his knees' which someone had said of the Prince Regent! The sisters did look old but were soon in animated conversation with other guests.
As soon as the Minister saw Lancelot he came over to him and shook his hand. He was most forthright in his praise of the treatment given him. I was called across and was given another hearty handshake. "The young doctor!" he announced quite loudly which caused heads to turn. I, unfortunately, was then a centre of attention for a moment or two. Only a moment as the Comte was looking towards the door and I saw a liveried servant look in and nod. Dinner was ready to be served.
I had made sure I knew which of the sisters was the Comtesse. I had heard her brother call her 'Beau' and that must have been a pet name for her. She was not at all overbearing and had smiled most graciously when I went to her to take her arm. She and her sister were guests of honour with the Minister with Uncle Philippe himself leading the Minister in. It was a most convivial dinner in the end. I knew I would have to be careful and not overeat, nor take too much drink. There would be five courses according to the cards by our places. I took only small amounts but even those were filling and most delicious. I found Marguerite to be most jolly. She wanted to visit London which I knew was not unusual as everyone imagined it to be the height of fashion in everything. She said she had lived in Paris all her life though I found the family had an estate near Orl‚ans which they visited rarely. I didn't think she liked country-life. I said about our visit to find relatives but did not mention the ducal head. She did not know about that part of the country. She said it always seemed so vast and Paris was big enough for her. The Comtesse had quite good English and wanted to know what I had seen. She laughed when I said I though the palace at Fontainebleau was most grand and said it was not a place to live in. Again, she was someone who preferred city life. I liked visiting places like London or Paris but I loved to be in the country-side.
The final course finished but only Robin and I excused ourselves. We rushed upstairs full of food and apprehension so he said! We changed our waistcoats from the ones which all had admired. We took our instruments down to the salon and met the others players there. They also looked well-fed. We set to tuning, with Valentine in charge. The guests then came in led by the Comte. Chairs had been placed in front of the orchestra for them and I saw the Minister and his sisters in the centre of the front row. Jabez and Lancelot were together with Lancelot talking to the Commandant's wife. All seemed most content.
We were to start with the Haydn Symphony so were ready when the Comte took his place at the harpsichord. I felt we played it well. There were no obvious errors or poor entries. The applause was long and fervent. It was my turn then. The organ was behind the orchestra so I had to make my way there with Fabrice my organ-blower. I had my back to the audience so was able to lose myself in my playing. I think Professor Greene would have been pleased with my performance of his piece. I believe the applause was even louder because the members of the orchestra also joined in. It was the singer next and the Comte accompanied him on the piano in two arias by Mayerbeer. I did not know any of that composer's music so was very taken both with the tunefulness of the pieces and the sonorous bass voice of the singer. I would have to visit the Opera House in London to hear more music like this.
There was a slight pause before Robin made his way to the organ. His performance of the Hine was perfection. I joined in the applause as he responded by standing, as I had, by the side of the organ bench and bowing. All had gone so well and now was the time for the Concerto. I had noted the Comte had been abstemious at dinner as well though he had made short work of a large dish of some fowl which was our third course. We all played our best and the Comte's fingers certainly twinkled and ran about the keyboard. Wolfgang Amadeus would have relished our performance I was sure.
After prolonged applause for which we all had to stand and bow the Comte announced that two of his players would be leaving in the morning to return to England but he was minded to kidnap them for their fine performances. This meant Robin and I had to take more bows to applause and laughter. I think Jabez was mouthing 'Keep them!'. We received more congratulations as we joined the guests and more glasses were filled and we were toasted as well. It had been a most successful evening. Jabez did say he didn't really want to lose us as one of his duties was to see we were safely delivered back to Charles Street. "Acting the Nanny again," he said as he downed a brimming glass of wine.
"Nanny-goat more likely!" Robin said as dear Jabez was cultivating a hairy chin.
So ended our visit to Paris and to Riom. As the Comte said we would be off in the morning back to Coquelles and to catch the early boat from Calais on Wednesday morning. We were tired and it was a weary Valentine who took the sconce before us as we went up the grand staircase. Guests had departed happy and saying they would be looking forward to the next concert. If accompanied by such good food and wine I could only agree. But now it was time for bed. Valentine was happy and I think would have bussed us as well as bidding us 'Bonne nuit' as Robin took the sconce from him. As he turned and shut the door Robin pursed his lips and made a kissing noise. "Hands off the servants," I said and dragged him into the room. A veil might be drawn by the more puritan over what two boys indulged in before falling asleep even more exhausted!
To be continued:
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