Page:The Bohemians of the Latin Quarter.djvu/360

moment that he recognized him, but the supreme elegance displayed by the poet threw the philosopher into a state of doubt and uncertainty.

“Rodolphe with gloves and a walking-stick. Chimera! Utopia! mental aberration! Rodolphe curled and oiled; he who has not so much hair as Father Time. What could I be thinking of? Besides, at this present moment my unfortunate friend is engaged in lamentations, and is composing melancholy verses upon the departure of Mademoiselle Mimi, who, I hear, has thrown him over. Well, for my part, I, too, regret the loss of that young woman; she was a good hand at making coffee, which is the beverage of serious minds. But I trust that Rodolphe will console himself, and soon get another Kettle-holder.”

Colline was so delighted with his wretched joke, that he would willingly have applauded it, had not the stern voice of philosophy woke up within him, and put an energetic stop to this perversion of wit.

However, as he halted close to Rodolphe, Colline was forced to yield to evidence. It was certainly Rodolphe, curled, gloved, and with a cane. It was impossible, but it was true.

“Eh! eh! by Jove!” said Colline. “I am not mistaken. It is you, I am certain.”

“So am 1,” replied Rodolphe.

Colline began to look at his friend, imparting to his countenance the expression pictorially made use of by M. Lebrun, the king’s painter in ordinary, to express surprise. But all at once he noted two strange articles with which Rodolphe was laden—firstly, a rope ladder, and secondly, a cage, in which some kind of bird was fluttering. At this sight, Gustave Colline’s physiognomy expressed a sentiment which Monsieur Lebrun, the king’s painter in ordinary, forgot to depict in his picture of “The Passions.”