44.
Bécassine recounted without omission the events that we have already heard. Monsieur Proey-Minans listened to her with a lively interest. When she was done, he said, "What adventures you have had, my child. I must examine your skull. Remove your cap, if you would be so kind."
He massaged her scalp while referring to a record of their previous encounter, and declared, "I knew it. The bulge of courage is developed, likewise the bump of ingenuity. Ah! Phrenology! What a science!"
He dismissed the guards, then undertook to recount to Bécassine how he had come into his job with the police. "But, first," he said, "put Hindenburg in his basket. I can't stand the sight of a Boche, even if he is a dog." Bécassine regretfully packed up her companion.
"I wished to serve my country," continued Monsieur Proey-Minans. "Unable to do it by arms, I applied to a newly created ministry, the Ministry for the Utilization of Aptitudes. The foyer was crowded. I presented my card to a footman, and, thanks to my membership in a number of academies, that man, respectful of science, introduced me very kindly into the Minister's waiting room. There, I had the pleasure to find two of my acquaintances who were there, like me, to offer their services."
"They were Monsieur Gradouble, my pork butcher; and one of my friends, a very distinguished engineer, who before the war had managed a factory that made coil springs. We shook hands, and together the three of us entered the office of the Minister."
"What a charming man, the Minister for the Utilization of Aptitudes! And how distinguished! Of course, I didn't have the opportunity to measure his skull, but I observed it at leisure during the conversation, which was easy for me because he is completely bald. It's a fine skull, and has the particular feature, which I have remarked on many ministerial heads, of being entirely smooth."
"Monsieur the Minister listened to us very complacently."
45.
"While we were taking our leave, he told us, 'Be assured that your aptitudes will be utilized to the best advantage of the country.'"
"And how have they been?" asked Bécassine.
"These two photographs will show you," replied Monsieur Proey-Minans.
One of the photos showed a man surrounded by hams, tongues, pig's heads, and everything that goes into a sausage.
"Is that Monsieur Gradouble?" asked Bécassine.
"No," replied Monsieur Proey-Minans. "That's the engineer. As a maker of coil springs, he was put in the pork butcher's shop.* Gradouble," he added, handing her the other photo, "you can see represented here. He is an observer in one of those balloons they call sausages. Perhaps, my child, you think that it would be better to put the engineer in the aeronautical post, and the pork butcher in the pork butchery, and myself, because of my myopia, in some other line than spy-catching. If the Minister has not done so, it's because he has his reasons. Let us guard against vain critiques, my child."
Animated by his subject, Monsieur Proey-Minans stood up. In a gesture familiar to lecturers, he held his ink bottle in one hand and, taking it for a glass of water, lifted it to his lips. Bécassine intervened just in time to prevent him from drinking it.
At that moment the bellow of a ship's horn was heard. "The boat for England is announcing its departure," noted Monsieur Proey-Minans calmly.
Bécassine jumped. "The boat for England?" she cried. "I forgot all about it! And my mistress and master who are waiting for me, and don't know what has become of me!"
"Let's run!" said Monsieur Proey-Minans. They ran. Hindenburg was able to get out of his basket and ran on ahead. But when they arrived at the quay the vessel was pulling away.
At the stern, Bertrand de Grand-Air, his wife, and Zidore waved their arms desperately. They shouted their London address, which Monsieur Proey-Minans carefully wrote down. Then he consoled Bécassine and told her there was another ship in two days.
While they were returning they encountered a couple of policeman with the man who was the first cause of all these incidents. "He's a dangerous spy," said Monsieur Proey-Minans, "and it was Hindenburg who sniffed him out. That is enough to reconcile me with that Boche doggie. Leave him with me, my child. You'll have nothing but headaches if you try to get him into England."
*The joke hinges on the word boudin which can apply to either a spring or a sausage.
46.
After the adventures that you have heard, I spent two tranquil days waiting to leave by boat for England. Nearly the whole time I was in the office of Monsieur Proey-Minans. He was trying to teach me the science of phrenology. Between me and you, I didn't really get it. I confused all the bulges.
The day of departure, the good Monsieur Proey-Minans had the kindness to accompany me aboard and introduce me to the captain. I was sad to be leaving him. And then I was worried about the submarines. It wasn't exactly fear, but something like it. The captain assured me that there was no danger, as he had good look-outs and a gun for shooting at the pirates. I offered to look out as well.
"That's it," he said, and installed me at the bow near the gun. "Watch well, and let me know if you see le père Iscope." I suppose that this Père Iscope, about whom you hear so much, is an assassin cut from the same cloth as that old pirate Zeppelin. I kept my eyes peeled for the whole crossing. But I saw neither père nor fils Iscope, or anyone of that family.
We arrived around evening at the English port, whose name I can't tell you. (Caution! Discretion!!!) There, it was necessary to get through customs, the police, and then to wait a good while for the train to London.
In my compartment we were packed in like sardines. I tried to strike up a conversation, but all they would say was, "Oi ... Yes ... No." After half an hour everyone was asleep, except for me, who never closed an eye.
Probably the emotions of the journey had left me on edge. Also, when we arrived, at about eight in the morning, I was very tired. I went through my pockets looking for the piece of paper on which Monsieur Proey-Minans had written the address of my mistress and master, and the roads to take to get there.
I thought it was lost, and I was desolated, when I remembered I had stuck it under my cap. It's often like that: I take such careful precautions to make sure I don't lose things that I have all the trouble in the world finding them.
47.
Here I am on my way, suitcase in one hand, directions in the other, nose in the air looking for the names of the roads. They're hard to read, and they all end in Street. It's not easy. Also, I'm in a muddle and completely lost.
I asked the passersby my way while showing them my paper. I can well imagine that I pronounced it wrong, because those who spoke French said, "I don't know. There's no such place," before walking on. As for the rest, it's amazing how everyone in London walks quickly and seems pressed for time.
I said to myself, "There's only one thing to do, and that's take a cab." Just at that moment, I spotted one stopped nearby. It was a funny cab, with the driver perched on the back. Trust the English to invent something like that!
Standing on the tips of my toes I handed my paper to the cabman. He read it, and then gave a long discourse that I did not understand a word of, and pointed to the corner of a street on the other side of the square. It began to irritate me, because people were stopping and laughing.
Then I climbed into the cab and settled in, and, as I was exhausted from my bad night and from tromping all over London, I immediately fell asleep like somebody without a worry in the world.
I believe my sleep would have lasted all day, if I had not felt someone pulling on my arm. I sat up and looked around. It was the same square, but on the other side, at the place that the cabman had been pointing to while he was making his discourse. And it was the cabman who was shaking me, along with a soldier who had a nice face.
The soldier said, "Step out, Mademoiselle Bécassine, you have arrived." And he made me see, on the sign at the corner of the street and the square, the name I had been searching for. He also told me to pay the cabman, and, once you put it into French money, it came to six francs that I gave him. That put me in a bad mood, because it seemed like highway robbery to charge that kind of money for a journey of fifty metres. Then the soldier explained that I had been asleep in the cab for nearly an hour. That calmed me down, but it gave me the idea that you must be rich to live in England, since even to sleep costs so much!
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