Diable! it seems I am in disgrace, if what Houssaye tells me is true. We are sure to appear on Wednesday. To-morrow, Monday, after the general rehearsal, I will put on my little pink bonnet, and will go and see five or six of the principal ogres, beginning by the great Janin, who, they say, is one of those who will cry out the loudest. My pink bonnet, do you hear? I tell you they are done for. I have tried it, as Cleopatra tried her poisons on her slaves. The effect is certain. When I put it on last week, with a black flounced dress, young X was quite stupified, and has remained so ever since—was so, indeed, before he saw me, for prudential motives, doubtless!
Rachel was a raconteuse of the first order. The following amusing story is told in the same letter:—
I found an old medal in a box to-day: the history of that medal is worth its weight in gold. One day in 1847, X told me he would bring Lord Granville to see me. I wanted to ask said Lord's advice about my visit to London. He did not bring him. I complained, and he swore that before three days were over he would redeem his promise. I demanded a guarantee. He offered me his watch. I refused to take it. His word was not to be depended on. As I was on the point of asking for his wig, he put his band into his pocket and found his Deputy's medal. Just the thing! I never saw Lord Granville nor X his medal. It seems he managed without it. But see what a good turn I did him by confiscating the passport with the head of poor father Louis Philippe imprinted upon it. 1848 came, then February, then all that you wot of, and many things you wot not of. Amongst others, this: On the 28th or 29th, I am not well up in my French history, said member was stopped at the door by order of the new brooms in power at the moment. "You cannot pass here without proving your identity." He looked in all his pockets, no medal. He galloped off to my house, no Rachel. He rushed to the theatre, to my mother's, to the devil: I was nowhere to be found; and, meantime, the fate of the kingdom was decided "Au pont de la discorde." In short, my friend, read the papers of the time and you will see that, thanks to my confiscation of his medal, X escaped beautifully, for, his name not having appeared amongst the others that were compromised, he passed for a fervent Republican, and you know how he has justified the opinion. This morning I found this famous medal, for keeping which, I think, my friend owes me a "candle." Inasmuch as at the time I swore I had lost it, I do not choose to send it back to him now, especially as it might recall uncomfortably the change his political opinions have undergone.
