"Another of those stories," said the eldest.
"It is my own, Signorino," answered Signor Geronimo.
"Eight years ago I was, like you, a young pupil of the Naples Conservatoire. I mean I was your age, but I did not have the honour to be the son of the distinguished mayor of the pretty town of Verrieres."
This phrase made M. de Renal sigh, and look at his wife.
"Signor Zingarelli," continued the young singer, somewhat exaggerating his action, and thus making the children burst into laughter, "Signor Zingarelli was an excellent though severe master.
He is not popular at the Conservatoire, but he insists on the pretence being kept up that he is.
I went out as often as I could.
I used to go to the little Theatre de San Carlino, where I used to hear divine music. But heavens! the question was to scrape together the eight sous which were the price of admission to the parterre?
An enormous sum," he said, looking at the children and watching them laugh.
"Signor Giovannone, director of the San Carlino, heard me sing. I was sixteen.
'That child is a treasure,' he said.
"'Would you like me to engage you, my dear boy?' he said.
"'And how much will you give me?'
"'Forty ducats a month.'
That is one hundred and sixty francs, gentlemen.
I thought the gates of heaven had opened.
"'But,' I said to Giovannone, 'how shall I get the strict Zingarelli to let me go out?'
"'Lascia fare a me.'"
"Leave it to me," exclaimed the eldest of the children.
"Quite right, my young sir.
Signor Giovannone he says to me,
'First sign this little piece of paper, my dear friend.'
I sign.
"He gives me three ducats.
I had never seen so much money.
Then he told me what I had to do.
"Next day I asked the terrible Zingarelli for an audience.
His old valet ushered me in.
"'What do you want of me, you naughty boy?' said Zingarelli.
"'Maestro,' I said,
'I repent of all my faults.
I will never go out of the Conservatoire by passing through the iron grill.
I will redouble my diligence.'
"'If I were not frightened of spoiling the finest bass voice I have ever heard, I would put you in prison for a fortnight on bread and water, you rascal.'
"'Maestro,' I answered, 'I will be the model boy of the whole school, credete a me, but I would ask one favour of you.
If anyone comes and asks permission for me to sing outside, refuse.
As a favour, please say that you cannot let me.'
"'And who the devil do you think is going to ask for a ne'er-do-well like you?
Do you think I should ever allow you to leave the Conservatoire?
Do you want to make fun of me?
Clear out!
Clear out!' he said, trying to give me a kick, 'or look out for prison and dry bread.'"
One thing astonished Julien. The solitary weeks passed at Verrieres in de Renal's house had been a period of happiness for him.
He had only experienced revulsions and sad thoughts at the dinners to which he had been invited. And was he not able to read, write and reflect, without being distracted, in this solitary house?
He was not distracted every moment from his brilliant reveries by the cruel necessity of studying the movement of a false soul in order to deceive it by intrigue and hypocrisy.
"To think of happiness being so near to me—the expense of a life like that is small enough.
I could have my choice of either marrying Mademoiselle Elisa or of entering into partnership with Fouque.
But it is only the traveller who has just scaled a steep mountain and sits down on the summit who finds a perfect pleasure in resting.
Would he be happy if he had to rest all the time?"
Madame de Renal's mind had now reached a state of desperation.