Page:Dumas - Tales of Strange adventure (Methuen, 1907).djvu/69

Rh minds work in so strange a fashion; our wits jump so suddenly from the high levels of philosophy to the vilest pun! our temperament is so special, so individual, so eccentric! it is so much the appanage of a peculiar caste that a long initiation, as it were, is needed to comprehend its manifestation in words!

Still one may have too much of a good thing, even of laughing, and about two o'clock in the morning the talk ran dry; about three we fell asleep; about five they woke us up to examine our baggage; about eight we finally arrived at Brussels.

At that capital perfect quiet reigned, and if one had not heard so much abuse spoken, in French of France, one might have forgotten that such a country existed. ^'e were back again in the full enjoyment of monarchical institutions.

A curious country this Belgium, a land that keeps its King because that King is always perfectly ready to go. True he is a man of infinite tact is King Leopold I. At each Revolution that breaks out in France, at each revolt that threatens at Brussels, he runs out on his balcony hat in hand, and signifies his desire to speak. When he has procured silence:

"My children," says the Monarch, "you are aware they made me King against my wish. I did not want a throne, before they gave me one, and since I have had one, I have often longed to be rid of it; so if you are like me and have had enough of Royalty, give me an hour,—I don't ask for more,—and in an hour I will be out of the Kingdom. I have encouraged the building of railways for this express purpose. Only be good, and don't break things; that would not be the slightest use, you know."

To this little harangue the populace replies:

"Oh! we don't want you to go away. We felt the need of making a little noise, that was all. We have kicked up our little row, and now we feel quite happy again. Long live the King!"

After which King and people part better pleased with each other than ever.

All the way as we came along, Biard had been dinning in my ears, "Never mind, when we get to Brussels, I am going to take you to see something you have never seen before." And in my self-conceit, every time he said so, I had shrugged my shoulders.

I had been at Brussels perhaps ten times already, and on one of these occasions I had seen the Park, the Botanical Garden, the Palace of the Prince of Orange, the Church of SainteGudule, the Boulevard de Waterloo, the shops of Méline and Cans, the Palace of the Prince de Ligne. What could there be left for me to see?

Accordingly, the moment we arrived, "Come along," said I to Biard, "let's see what I have never seen before."

"Come along," he replied laconically,—and we set off together, Biard, my son Alexandre and myself.

Our guide led us straight to a handsome looking house, not far from the Cathedral, stopped before a carriage door and rang the bell without the smallest sign of hesitation.

The door was opened by a manservant, whose strange appearance struck me at the first glance. The tips of his fingers were red with blood, while the man's waistcoat and trousers were literally covered with feathers or rather down coming from the plumage of all sorts of birds. Moreover, he had a singular trick of turning his head about, a semi-circular movement like that of some species of climbing birds.

"Friend," Biard addressed him, "will you be so kind as to inform your master that a party of foreigners visiting Brussels are desirous of seeing his curiosities?"

"Sir," returned the man, "my master is not at home, but in his absence I have his orders to do the honours of the collection."

"Damned unfortunate!" muttered Biard. Then turning to me, "It will not be so interesting," he said, " but no matter, let us persevere."

The servant was waiting our pleasure; we nodded to him, and he stepped off to show us the way.

"Notice the way he walks," Biard whispered to me;" that is a curiosity in itself."

Indeed our worthy cicerone had the gait not of a man but of a bird, and the particular bird he seemed to have taken as his model was the magpie.

First we traversed a square courtyard inhabited by a cat and two or three storks. The cat looked at us defiantly; the storks on the contrary, standing motionless on their long red legs, seemed full of confidence in our peaceful intentions.