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diff --git a/old/opmny11h.htm b/old/opmny11h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d36546a --- /dev/null +++ b/old/opmny11h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,20158 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/html4/loose.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII"> +<TITLE>The Project Gutenberg EBook of Other People's Money, by Emile Gaboriau +</TITLE> +</head> +<body> +<PRE> +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Other People's Money, by Emile Gaboriau +#4 in our series by Emile Gaboriau + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Other People's Money + +Author: Emile Gaboriau + +Release Date: May, 1999 [EBook #1748] +[This file was last updated on February 17, 2003] + +Edition: 11 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY *** + + +</PRE> + + + + + + + + + +<H1>OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY + +</H1><P>by Emile Gaboriau +</P> + + + +<H2>PART I + +</H2> +<H2>I + +</H2> +<P>There is not, perhaps, in all Paris, a quieter street than the Rue +St. Gilles in the Marais, within a step of the Place Royale. No +carriages there; never a crowd. Hardly is the silence broken by +the regulation drums of the Minims Barracks near by, by the chimes +of the Church of St. Louis, or by the joyous clamors of the pupils +of the Massin School during the hours of recreation. +</P> +<P>At night, long before ten o'clock, and when the Boulevard +Beaumarchais is still full of life, activity, and noise, every thing +begins to close. One by one the lights go out, and the great windows +with diminutive panes become dark. And if, after midnight, some +belated citizen passes on his way home, he quickens his step, feeling +lonely and uneasy, and apprehensive of the reproaches of his +concierge, who is likely to ask him whence he may be coming at so +late an hour. +</P> +<P>In such a street, every one knows each other: houses have no mystery; +families, no secrets,—a small town, where idle curiosity has always +a corner of the veil slyly raised, where gossip flourishes as rankly +as the grass on the street. +</P> +<P>Thus on the afternoon of the 27th of April, 1872 (a Saturday), a fact +which anywhere else might have passed unnoticed was attracting +particular attention. +</P> +<P>A man some thirty years of age, wearing the working livery of +servants of the upper class,—the long striped waistcoat with +sleeves, and the white linen apron,—was going from door to door. +</P> +<P>“Who can the man be looking for?” wondered the idle neighbors, +closely watching his evolutions. +</P> +<P>He was not looking for any one. To such as he spoke to, he stated +that he had been sent by a cousin of his, an excellent cook, who, +before taking a place in the neighborhood, was anxious to have all +possible information on the subject of her prospective masters. And +then, “Do you know M. Vincent Favoral?” he would ask. +</P> +<P>Concierges and shop-keepers knew no one better; for it was more than +a quarter of a century before, that M. Vincent Favoral, the day after +his wedding, had come to settle in the Rue St. Gilles; and there +his two children were born,—his son M. Maxence, his daughter Mlle. +Gilberte. +</P> +<P>He occupied the second story of the house. No. 38,—one of those +old-fashioned dwellings, such as they build no more, since ground is +sold at twelve hundred francs the square metre; in which there is no +stinting of space. The stairs, with wrought iron balusters, are wide +and easy, and the ceilings twelve feet high. +</P> +<P>“Of course, we know M. Favoral,” answered every one to the servant's +questions; “and, if there ever was an honest man, why, he is +certainly the one. There is a man whom you could trust with your +funds, if you had any, without fear of his ever running off to +Belgium with them.” And it was further explained, that M. Favoral +was chief cashier, and probably, also, one of the principal +stockholders, of the Mutual Credit Society, one of those admirable +financial institutions which have sprung up with the second empire, +and which had won at the bourse the first installment of their +capital, the very day that the game of the Coup d'Etat was being +played in the street. +</P> +<P>“I know well enough the gentleman's business,” remarked the servant; +“but what sort of a man is he? That's what my cousin would like to +know.” +</P> +<P>The wine-man at No. 43, the oldest shop-keeper in the street, could +best answer. A couple of <i>petits-verres</i> politely offered soon started +his tongue; and, whilst sipping his Cognac: +</P> +<P>“M. Vincent Favoral,” he began, “is a man some fifty-two or three +years old, but who looks younger, not having a single gray hair. He +is tall and thin, with neatly-trimmed whiskers, thin lips, and small +yellow eyes; not talkative. It takes more ceremony to get a word +from his throat than a dollar from his pocket. ‘Yes,’ ‘no,’ +‘good-morning,’ ‘good-evening;’ that's about the extent of his +conversation. Summer and winter, he wears gray pantaloons, a long +frock-coat, laced shoes, and lisle-thread gloves. 'Pon my word, I +should say that he is still wearing the very same clothes I saw upon +his back for the first time in 1845, did I not know that he has two +full suits made every year by the concierge at No. 29, who is also a +tailor.” +</P> +<P>“Why, he must be an old miser,” muttered the servant. +</P> +<P>“He is above all peculiar,” continued the shop-keeper, “like most +men of figures, it seems. His own life is ruled and regulated like +the pages of his ledger. In the neighborhood they call him Old +Punctuality; and, when he passes through the Rue Turenne, the +merchants set their watches by him. Rain or shine, every morning of +the year, on the stroke of nine, he appears at the door on the way +to his office. When he returns, you may be sure it is between twenty +and twenty-five minutes past five. At six he dines; at seven he goes +to play a game of dominoes at the Café Turc; at ten he comes home +and goes to bed; and, at the first stroke of eleven at the Church of +St. Louis, out goes his candle.” +</P> +<P>“Hem!” grumbled the servant with a look of contempt, “the question +is, will my cousin be willing to live with a man who is a sort of +walking clock?” +</P> +<P>“It isn't always pleasant,” remarked the wine-man; “and the best +evidence is, that the son, M. Maxence, got tired of it.” +</P> +<P>“He does not live with his parents any more?” +</P> +<P>“He dines with them; but he has his own lodgings on the Boulevard du +Temple. The falling-out made talk enough at the time; and some +people do say that M. Maxence is a worthless scamp, who leads a very +dissipated life; but I say that his father kept him too close. The +boy is twenty-five, quite good looking, and has a very stylish +mistress: I have seen her. . . . I would have done just as he did.” +</P> +<P>“And what about the daughter, Mlle. Gilberte?” +</P> +<P>“She is not married yet, although she is past twenty, and pretty as +a rosebud. After the war, her father tried to make her marry a +stock-broker, a stylish man who always came in a two-horse carriage; +but she refused him outright. I should not be a bit surprised to +hear that she has some love-affair of her own. I have noticed +lately a young gentleman about here who looks up quite suspiciously +when he goes by No. 38.” The servant did not seem to find these +particulars very interesting. +</P> +<P>“It's the lady,” he said, “that my cousin would like to know most +about.” +</P> +<P>“Naturally. Well, you can safely tell her that she never will have +had a better mistress. Poor Madame Favoral! She must have had a +sweet time of it with her maniac of a husband! But she is not young +any more; and people get accustomed to every thing, you know. The +days when the weather is fine, I see her going by with her daughter +to the Place Royale for a walk. That's about their only amusement.” +</P> +<P>“The mischief!” said the servant, laughing. “If that is all, she +won't ruin her husband, will she?” +</P> +<P>“That is all,” continued the shop-keeper, “or rather, excuse me, no: +every Saturday, for many years, M. and Mme. Favoral receive a few +of their friends: M. and Mme. Desclavettes, retired dealers in +bronzes, Rue Turenne; M. Chapelain, the old lawyer from the Rue St. +Antoine, whose daughter is Mlle. Gilberte's particular friend; M. +Desormeaux, head clerk in the Department of Justice; and three or +four others; and as this just happens to be Saturday—” +</P> +<P>But here he stopped short, and pointing towards the street: +</P> +<P>“Quick,” said he, “look! Speaking of the—you know—It is twenty +minutes past five, there is M. Favoral coming home.” +</P> +<P>It was, in fact, the cashier of the Mutual Credit Society, looking +very much indeed as the shop-keeper had described him. Walking with +his head down, he seemed to be seeking upon the pavement the very +spot upon which he had set his foot in the morning, that he might set +it back again there in the evening. +</P> +<P>With the same methodical step, he reached his house, walked up the +two pairs of stairs, and, taking out his pass-key, opened the door +of his apartment. +</P> +<P>The dwelling was fit for the man; and every thing from the very hall, +betrayed his peculiarities. There, evidently, every piece of +furniture must have its invariable place, every object its irrevocable +shelf or hook. All around were evidences, if not exactly of poverty, +at least of small means, and of the artifices of a respectable +economy. Cleanliness was carried to its utmost limits: every thing +shone. Not a detail but betrayed the industrious hand of the +housekeeper, struggling to defend her furniture against the ravages +of time. The velvet on the chairs was darned at the angles as with +the needle of a fairy. Stitches of new worsted showed through the +faded designs on the hearth-rugs. The curtains had been turned so +as to display their least worn side. +</P> +<P>All the guests enumerated by the shop-keeper, and a few others +besides, were in the parlor when M. Favoral came in. But, instead +of returning their greeting: +</P> +<P>“Where is Maxence?” he inquired. +</P> +<P>“I am expecting him, my dear,” said Mme. Favoral gently. +</P> +<P>“Always behind time,” he scolded. “It is too trifling.” +</P> +<P>His daughter, Mlle. Gilberte, interrupted him: +</P> +<P>“Where is my bouquet, father?” she asked. +</P> +<P>M. Favoral stopped short, struck his forehead, and with the accent +of a man who reveals something incredible, prodigious, unheard of, +</P> +<P>“Forgotten,” he answered, scanning the syllables: “I have for-got-ten +it.” +</P> +<P>It was a fact. Every Saturday, on his way home, he was in the habit +of stopping at the old woman's shop in front of the Church of St. +Louis, and buying a bouquet for Mlle. Gilberte. And to-day . . . +</P> +<P>“Ah! I catch you this time, father!” exclaimed the girl. +</P> +<P>Meantime, Mme. Favoral, whispering to Mme. Desclavettes: +</P> +<P>“Positively,” she said in a troubled voice, “something serious must +have happened to—my husband. He to forget! He to fail in one of +his habits! It is the first time in twenty-six years.” +</P> +<P>The appearance of Maxence at this moment prevented her from going on. +M. Favoral was about to administer a sound reprimand to his son, when +dinner was announced. +</P> +<P>“Come,” exclaimed M. Chapelain, the old lawyer, the conciliating man +par excellence,—“come, let us to the table.” +</P> +<P>They sat down. But Mme. Favoral had scarcely helped the soup, when +the bell rang violently. Almost at the same moment the servant +appeared, and announced: +</P> +<P>“The Baron de Thaller!” +</P> +<P>More pale than his napkin, the cashier stood up. “The manager,” he +stammered, “the director of the Mutual Credit Society.” +</P> + + +<H2>II + +</H2><P>Close upon the heels of the servant M. de Thaller came. +</P> +<P>Tall, thin, stiff, he had a very small head, a flat face, pointed +nose, and long reddish whiskers, slightly shaded with silvery threads, +falling half-way down his chest. Dressed in the latest style, he +wore a loose overcoat of rough material, pantaloons that spread +nearly to the tip of his boots, a wide shirt-collar turned over a +light cravat, on the bow of which shone a large diamond, and a tall +hat with rolled brims. With a blinking glance, he made a rapid +estimate of the dining-room, the shabby furniture, and the guests +seated around the table. Then, without even condescending to touch +his hat, with his large hand tightly fitted into a lavender glove, +in a brief and imperious tone, and with a slight accent which he +affirmed was the Alsatian accent: +</P> +<P>“I must speak with you, Vincent,” said he to his cashier, “alone and +at once.” +</P> +<P>M. Favoral made visible efforts to conceal his anxiety. “You see,” +he commenced, “we are dining with a few friends, and—” +</P> +<P>“Do you wish me to speak in presence of everybody?” interrupted +harshly the manager of the Mutual Credit. +</P> +<P>The cashier hesitated no longer. Taking up a candle from the table, +he opened the door leading to the parlor, and, standing respectfully +to one side: +</P> +<P>“Be kind enough to pass on, sir,” said he: “I follow you.” +</P> +<P>And, at the moment of disappearing himself, +</P> +<P>“Continue to dine without me,” said he to his guests, with a last +effort at self-control. “I shall soon catch up with you. This will +take but a moment. Do not be uneasy in the least.” +</P> +<P>They were not uneasy, but surprised, and, above all, shocked at the +manners of M. de Thaller. +</P> +<P>“What a brute!” muttered Mme. Desclavettes. +</P> +<P>M. Desormeaux, the head clerk at the Department of Justice, was an +old legitimist, much imbued with reactionary ideas. +</P> +<P>“Such are our masters,” said he with a sneer, “the high barons of +financial feudality. Ah! you are indignant at the arrogance of the +old aristocracy; well, on your knees, by Jupiter! on your face, +rather, before the golden crown on field of gules.” +</P> +<P>No one replied: every one was trying his best to hear. +</P> +<P>In the parlor, between M. Favoral and M. de Thaller, a discussion of +the utmost violence was evidently going on. To seize the meaning +of it was not possible; and yet through the door, the upper panels of +which were of glass, fragments could be heard; and from time to time +such words distinctly reached the ear as dividend, stockholders, +deficit, millions, etc. +</P> +<P>“What can it all mean? great heaven!” moaned Mme. Favoral. +</P> +<P>Doubtless the two interlocutors, the director and the cashier, had +drawn nearer to the door of communication; for their voices, which +rose more and more, had now become quite distinct. +</P> +<P>“It is an infamous trap!” M. Favoral was saying. “I should have been +notified—” +</P> +<P>“Come, come,” interrupted the other. “Were you not fully warned? did +I ever conceal any thing from you?” +</P> +<P>Fear, a fear vague still, and unexplained, was slowly taking +possession of the guests; and they remained motionless, their forks +in suspense, holding their breath. +</P> +<P>“Never,” M. Favoral was repeating, stamping his foot so violently +that the partition shook,—“never, never!” +</P> +<P>“And yet it must be,” declared M. de Thaller. “It is the only, the +last resource.” +</P> +<P>“And suppose I will not!” +</P> +<P>“Your will has nothing to do with it now. It is twenty years ago +that you might have willed, or not willed. But listen to me, and +let us reason a little.” +</P> +<P>Here M. de Thaller dropped his voice; and for some minutes nothing +was heard in the dining-room, except confused words, and +incomprehensible exclamations, until suddenly, +</P> +<P>“That is ruin,” he resumed in a furious tone: “it is bankruptcy on +the last of the month.” +</P> +<P>“Sir,” the cashier was replying,—“sir!” +</P> +<P>“You are a forger, M. Vincent Favoral; you are a thief!” +</P> +<P>Maxence leaped from his seat. +</P> +<P>“I shall not permit my father to be thus insulted in his own house,” +he exclaimed. +</P> +<P>“Maxence,” begged Mme. Favoral, “my son!” +</P> +<P>The old lawyer, M. Chapelain, held him by the arm; but he struggled +hard, and was about to burst into the parlor, when the door opened, +and the director of the Mutual Credit stepped out. +</P> +<P>With a coolness quite remarkable after such a scene, he advanced +towards Mlle. Gilberte, and, in a tone of offensive protection, +</P> +<P>“Your father is a wretch, mademoiselle,” he said; “and my duty should +be to surrender him at once into the hands of justice. On account of +your worthy mother, however, of your father himself, above all, on +your own account, mademoiselle, I shall forbear doing so. But let +him fly, let him disappear, and never more be heard from.” +</P> +<P>He drew from his pocket a roll of bank-notes, and, throwing them upon +the table, +</P> +<P>“Hand him this,” he added. “Let him leave this very night. The +police may have been notified. There is a train for Brussels at +five minutes past eleven.” +</P> +<P>And, having bowed, he withdrew, no one addressing him a single word, +so great was the astonishment of all the guests of this house, +heretofore so peaceful. +</P> +<P>Overcome with stupor, Maxence had dropped upon his chair. Mlle. +Gilberte alone retained some presence of mind. +</P> +<P>“It is a shame,” she exclaimed, “for us to give up thus! That man +is an impostor, a wretch; he lies! Father, father!” +</P> +<P>M. Favoral had not waited to be called, and was standing up against +the parlor-door, pale as death, and yet calm. +</P> +<P>“Why attempt any explanations?” he said. “The money is gone; and +appearances are against me.” +</P> +<P>His wife had drawn near to him, and taken his hand. “The misfortune +is immense,” she said, “but not irreparable. We will sell everything +we have.” +</P> +<P>“Have you not friends? Are we not here,” insisted the others,—M. +Desclavettes, M. Desormeaux, and M. Chapelain. +</P> +<P>Gently he pushed his wife aside, and coldly. +</P> +<P>“All we had,” he said, “would be as a grain of sand in an ocean. +But we have no longer anything; we are ruined.” +</P> +<P>“Ruined!” exclaimed M. Desormeaux,—“ruined! And where are the +forty-five thousand francs I placed into your hands?” +</P> +<P>He made no reply. +</P> +<P>“And our hundred and twenty thousand francs?” groaned M. and Mme. +Desclavettes. +</P> +<P>“And my sixty thousand francs?” shouted M. Chapelain, with a +blasphemous oath. +</P> +<P>The cashier shrugged his shoulders. “Lost,” he said, “irrevocably +lost!” +</P> +<P>Then their rage exceeded all bounds. Then they forgot that this +unfortunate man had been their friend for twenty years, that they +were his guests; and they commenced heaping upon him threats and +insults without name. +</P> +<P>He did not even deign to defend himself. +</P> +<P>“Go on,” he uttered, “go on. When a poor dog, carried away by the +current, is drowning, men of heart cast stones at him from the bank. +Go on!” +</P> +<P>“You should have told us that you speculated,” screamed M. +Desclavettes. +</P> +<P>On hearing these words, he straightened himself up, and with a +gesture so terrible that the others stepped back frightened. +</P> +<P>“What!” said he, in a tone of crushing irony, “it is this evening +only, that you discover that I speculated? Kind friends! Where, +then, and in whose pockets, did you suppose I was getting the +enormous interests I have been paying you for years? Where have +you ever seen honest money, the money of labor, yield twelve or +fourteen per cent? The money that yields thus is the money of the +gaming table, the money of the bourse. Why did you bring me your +funds? Because you were fully satisfied that I knew how to handle +the cards. Ah! If I was to tell you that I had doubled your capital, +you would not ask how I did it, nor whether I had stocked the cards. +You would virtuously pocket the money. But I have lost: I am a +thief. Well, so be it. But, then, you are all my accomplices. It +is the avidity of the dupes which induces the trickery of the +sharpers.” +</P> +<P>Here he was interrupted by the servant coming in. “Sir,” she +exclaimed excitedly, “O sir! the courtyard is full of police agents. +They are speaking to the concierge. They are coming up stairs: I +hear them!” +</P> + + +<H2>III + +</H2><P>According to the time and place where they are uttered, there are +words which acquire a terrible significance. In this disordered +room, in the midst of these excited people, that word, the “police,” +sounded like a thunderclap. +</P> +<P>“Do not open,” Maxence ordered; “do not open, however they may ring +or knock. Let them burst the door first.” +</P> +<P>The very excess of her fright restored to Mme. Favoral a portion of +her energy. Throwing herself before her husband as if to protect +him, as if to defend him, +</P> +<P>“They are coming to arrest you, Vincent,” she exclaimed. “They are +coming; don't you hear them?” +</P> +<P>He remained motionless, his feet seemingly riveted to the floor. +</P> +<P>“That is as I expected,” he said. +</P> +<P>And with the accent of the wretch who sees all hope vanish, and who +utterly gives up all struggle, +</P> +<P>“Be it so,” he said. “Let them arrest me, and let all be over at once. +I have had enough anxiety, enough unbearable alternatives. I am tired +always to feign, to deceive, and to lie. Let them arrest me! Any +misfortune will be smaller in reality than the horrors of uncertainty. +I have nothing more to fear now. For the first time in many years I +shall sleep to-night.” +</P> +<P>He did not notice the sinister expression of his guests. “You think +I am a thief,” he added: “well, be satisfied, justice shall be done.” +</P> +<P>But he attributed to them sentiments which were no longer theirs. +They had forgotten their anger, and their bitter resentment for their +lost money. +</P> +<P>The imminence of the peril awoke suddenly in their souls the +memories of the past, and that strong affection which comes from +long habit, and a constant exchange of services rendered. Whatever +M. Favoral might have done, they only saw in him now the friend, the +host whose bread they had broken together more than a hundred times, +the man whose probity, up to this fatal night, had remained far +above suspicion. +</P> +<P>Pale, excited, they crowded around him. +</P> +<P>“Have you lost your mind?” spoke M. Desormeaux. “Are you going to +wait to be arrested, thrown into prison, dragged into a criminal +court?” +</P> +<P>He shook his head, and in a tone of idiotic obstinacy, +</P> +<P>“Have I not told you,” he repeated, “that every thing is against me? +Let them come; let them do what they please with me.” +</P> +<P>“And your wife,” insisted M. Chapelain, the old lawyer, “and your +children!” +</P> +<P>“Will they be any the less dishonored if I am condemned by default?” +</P> +<P>Wild with grief, Mme. Favoral was wringing her hands. +</P> +<P>“Vincent,” she murmured, “in the name of Heaven spare us the +harrowing agony to have you in prison.” +</P> +<P>Obstinately he remained silent. His daughter, Mlle. Gilberte, +dropped upon her knees before him, and, joining her hands: +</P> +<P>“I beseech you, father,” she begged. +</P> +<P>He shuddered all over. An unspeakable expression of suffering and +anguish contracted his features; and, speaking in a scarcely +intelligible voice: +</P> +<P>“Ah! you are cruelly protracting my agony,” he stammered. “What +do you ask of me?” +</P> +<P>“You must fly,” declared M. Desclavettes. +</P> +<P>“Which way? How? Do you not think that every precaution has been +taken, that every issue is closely watched?” +</P> +<P>Maxence interrupted him with a gesture: +</P> +<P>“The windows in sister's room, father,” said he, “open upon the +courtyard of the adjoining house.” +</P> +<P>“Yes; but here we are up two pairs of stairs.” +</P> +<P>“No matter: I have a way.” +</P> +<P>And turning towards his sister: +</P> +<P>“Come, Gilberte,” went on the young man, “give me a light, and let +me have some sheets.” +</P> +<P>They went out hurriedly. Mme. Favoral felt a gleam of hope. +</P> +<P>“We are saved!” she said. +</P> +<P>“Saved!” repeated the cashier mechanically. “Yes; for I guess +Maxence's idea. But we must have an understanding. Where will you +take refuge?” +</P> +<P>“How can I tell?” +</P> +<P>“There is a train at five minutes past eleven,” remarked M. +Desormeaux. “Don't let us forget that.” +</P> +<P>“But money will be required to leave by that train,” interrupted the +old lawyer. “Fortunately, I have some.” +</P> +<P>And, forgetting his hundred and sixty thousand francs lost, he took +out his pocket-book. Mme. Favoral stopped him. “We have more than +we need,” said she. +</P> +<P>She took from the table, and held out to her husband, the roll of +bank notes which the director of the Mutual Credit Society had thrown +down before going. +</P> +<P>He refused them with a gesture of rage. +</P> +<P>“Rather starve to death!” he exclaimed. “'Tis he, 'tis that wretch—” +But he interrupted himself, and more gently: +</P> +<P>“Put away those bank-bills,” said he to his wife, “and let Maxence +take them back to M. de Thaller to-morrow.” +</P> +<P>The bell rang violently. +</P> +<P>“The police!” groaned Mme. Desclavettes, who seemed on the point of +fainting away. +</P> +<P>“I am going to negotiate,” said M. Desormeaux. “Fly, Vincent: do +not lose a minute.” +</P> +<P>And he ran to the front-door, whilst Mme. Favoral was hurrying her +husband towards Mlle. Gilberte's room. +</P> +<P>Rapidly and stoutly Maxence had fastened four sheets together by the +ends, which gave a more than sufficient length. Then, opening the +window, he examined carefully the courtyard of the adjoining house. +</P> +<P>“No one,” said he: “everybody is at dinner. We'll succeed.” +</P> +<P>M. Favoral was tottering like a drunken man. A terrible emotion +convulsed his features. Casting a long look upon his wife and +children: +</P> +<P>“O Lord!” he murmured, “what will become of you?” +</P> +<P>“Fear nothing, father,” uttered Maxence. “I am here. Neither my +mother nor my sister will want for any thing.” +</P> +<P>“My son!” resumed the cashier, “my children!” +</P> +<P>Then, with a choking voice: +</P> +<P>“I am worthy neither of your love nor your devotion, wretch that I +am! I made you lead a miserable existence, spend a joyless youth. +I imposed upon you every trial of poverty, whilst I— And now I leave +you nothing but ruin and a dishonored name.” +</P> +<P>“Make haste, father,” interrupted Mlle. Gilberte. It seemed as if he +could not make up his mind. +</P> +<P>“It is horrible to abandon you thus. What a parting! Ah! death +would indeed be far preferable. What will you think of me? I am +very guilty, certainly, but not as you think. I have been betrayed, +and I must suffer for all. If at least you knew the whole truth. +But will you ever know it? We will never see each other again.” +</P> +<P>Desperately his wife clung to him. +</P> +<P>“Do not speak thus,” she said. “Wherever you may find an asylum, +I will join you. Death alone can separate us. What do I care what +you may have done, or what the world will say? I am your wife. Our +children will come with me. If necessary, we will emigrate to +America; we'll change our name; we will work.” +</P> +<P>The knocks on the outer door were becoming louder and louder; and M. +Desormeaux' voice could be heard, endeavoring to gain a few moments +more. +</P> +<P>“Come,” said Maxence, “you cannot hesitate any longer.” +</P> +<P>And, overcoming his father's reluctance, he fastened one end of the +sheets around his waist. +</P> +<P>“I am going to let you down, father,” said he; “and, as soon as you +touch the ground, you must undo the knot. Take care of the +first-story windows; beware of the concierge; and, once in the street, +don't walk too fast. Make for the Boulevard, where you will be sooner +lost in the crowd.” +</P> +<P>The knocks had now become violent blows; and it was evident that the +door would soon be broken in, if M. Desormeaux did not make up his +mind to open it. +</P> +<P>The light was put out. With the assistance of his daughter, M. +Favoral lifted himself upon the window-sill, whilst Maxence held +the sheets with both hands. +</P> +<P>“I beseech you, Vincent,” repeated Mme. Favoral, “write to us. We +shall be in mortal anxiety until we hear of your safety.” +</P> +<P>Maxence let the sheets slip slowly: in two seconds M. Favoral stood +on the pavement below. +</P> +<P>“All right,” he said. +</P> +<P>The young man drew the sheets back rapidly, and threw them under +the bed. But Mlle. Gilberte remained long enough at the window to +recognize her father's voice asking the concierge to open the door, +and to hear the heavy gate of the adjoining house closing behind +him. +</P> +<P>“Saved!” she said. +</P> +<P>It was none too soon. M. Desormeaux had just been compelled to +yield; and the commissary of police was walking in. +</P> + + +<H2>IV + +</H2><P>The commissaries of police of Paris, as a general thing, are no +simpletons; and, if they are ever taken in, it is because it has +suited them to be taken in. +</P> +<P>Their modest title covers the most important, perhaps, of +magistracies, almost the only one known to the lower classes; an +enormous power, and an influence so decisive, that the most sensible +statesman of the reign of Louis Philippe ventured once to say, “Give +me twenty good commissaries of police in Paris, and I'll undertake +to suppress any government: net profit, one hundred millions.” +</P> +<P>Parisian above all, the commissary has had ample time to study his +ground when he was yet only a peace-officer. The dark side of the +most brilliant lives has no mysteries for him. He has received the +strangest confidences: he has listened to the most astounding +confessions. He knows how low humanity can stoop, and what +aberrations there are in brains apparently the soundest. The +work woman whom her husband beats, and the great lady whom her husband +cheats, have both come to him. He has been sent for by the +shop-keeper whom his wife deceives, and by the millionaire who has +been blackmailed. To his office, as to a lay confessional, all +passions fatally lead. In his presence the dirty linen of two +millions of people is washed <I>en famille</I>. +</P> +<P>A Paris commissary of police, who after ten years' practice, could +retain an illusion, believe in something, or be astonished at any +thing in the world, would be but a fool. If he is still capable +of some emotion, he is a good man. +</P> +<P>The one who had just walked into M. Favoral's apartment was already +past middle age, colder than ice, and yet kindly, but of that +commonplace kindliness which frightens like the executioner's +politeness at the scaffold. +</P> +<P>He required but a single glance of his small but clear eyes to +decipher the physiognomies of all these worthy people standing +around the disordered table. And beckoning to the agents who +accompanied him to stop at the door,—“Monsieur Vincent Favoral?” +he inquired. The cashier's guests, M. Desormeaux excepted, +seemed stricken with stupor. Each one felt as if he had a share +of the disgrace of this police invasion. The dupes who are +sometimes caught in clandestine “hells” have the same humiliated +attitudes. +</P> +<P>At last, and not without an effort, +</P> +<P>“M. Favoral is no longer here,” replied M. Chapelain, the old +lawyer. +</P> +<P>The commissary of police started. Whilst they were discussing with +him through the door, he had perfectly well understood that they +were only trying to gain time; and, if he had not at once burst in +the door, it was solely owing to his respect for M. Desormeaux +himself, whom he knew personally, and still more for his title of +head clerk at the Department of Justice. But his suspicions did +not extend beyond the destruction of a few compromising papers. +Whereas, in fact: +</P> +<P>“You have helped M. Favoral to escape, gentlemen?” said he. +</P> +<P>No one replied. +</P> +<P>“Silence means assent,” he added. “Very well: which way did he get +off?” +</P> +<P>Still no answer. M. Desclavettes would have been glad to add +something to the forty-five thousand francs he had just lost, to be, +together with Mme. Desclavettes, a hundred miles away. +</P> +<P>“Where is Mme. Favoral?” resumed the commissary, evidently well +informed. “Where are Mlle. Gilberte and M. Maxence Favoral?” +</P> +<P>They continued silent. No one in the dining-room knew what might +have taken place in the other room; and a single word might be treason. +</P> +<P>The commissary then became impatient. +</P> +<P>“Take up a light,” said he to one of the agents who had remained at +the door, “and follow me. We shall see.” +</P> +<P>And without a shadow of hesitation, for it seems to be the privilege +of police-agents to be at home everywhere, he crossed the parlor, +and reached Mlle. Gilberte's room just as she was withdrawing from +the window. +</P> +<P>“Ah, it is that way he escaped!” he exclaimed. +</P> +<P>He rushed to the window, and remained long enough leaning on his +elbows to thoroughly examine the ground, and understand the situation +of the apartment. +</P> +<P>“It's evident,” he said at last, “this window opens on the courtyard +of the next house.” +</P> +<P>This was said to one of his agents, who bore an unmistakable +resemblance to the servant who had been asking so many questions in +the afternoon. +</P> +<P>“Instead of gathering so much useless information,” he added, “why +did you not post yourself as to the outlets of the house?” +</P> +<P>He was “sold”; and yet he manifested neither spite nor anger. He +seemed in no wise anxious to run after the fugitive. Upon the +features of Maxence and of Mlle. Gilberte, and more still in Mme. +Favoral's eyes, he had read that it would be useless for the present. +</P> +<P>“Let us examine the papers, then,” said he. +</P> +<P>“My husband's papers are all in his study,” replied Mme. Favoral. +</P> +<P>“Please lead me to it, madame.” +</P> +<P>The room which M. Favoral called loftily his study was a small room +with a tile floor, white-washed walls, and meanly lighted through a +narrow transom. +</P> +<P>It was furnished with an old desk, a small wardrobe with grated door, +a few shelves upon which were piled some bandboxes and bundles of +old newspapers, and two or three deal chairs. +</P> +<P>“Where are the keys?” inquired the commissary of police. +</P> +<P>“My father always carries them in his pocket, sir,” replied Maxence. +</P> +<P>“Then let some one go for a locksmith.” Stronger than fear, +curiosity had drawn all the guests of the cashier of the Mutual +Credit Society, M. Desormeaux, M. Chapelain, M. Desclavettes himself; +and, standing within the door-frame, they followed eagerly every +motion of the commissary, who, pending the arrival of the locksmith, +was making a flying examination of the bundles of papers left exposed +upon the desk. +</P> +<P>After a while, and unable to hold in any longer: +</P> +<P>“Would it be indiscreet,” timidly inquired the old bronze-merchant, +“to ask the nature of the charges against that poor Favoral?” +</P> +<P>“Embezzlement, sir.” +</P> +<P>“And is the amount large?” +</P> +<P>“Had it been small, I should have said theft. Embezzling commences +only when the sum has reached a round figure.” +</P> +<P>Annoyed at the sardonic tone of the commissary: +</P> +<P>“The fact is,” resumed M. Chapelain, “Favoral was our friend; and, +if we could get him out of the scrape, we would all willingly +contribute.” +</P> +<P>“It's a matter of ten or twelve millions, gentlemen.” Was it +possible? Was it even likely? Could any one imagine so many +millions slipping through the fingers of M. de Thaller's methodic +cashier? +</P> +<P>“Ah, sir!” exclaimed Mme. Favoral, “if any thing could relieve my +feelings, the enormity of that sum would. My husband was a man of +simple and modest tastes.” +</P> +<P>The commissary shook his head. +</P> +<P>“There are certain passions,” he interrupted, “which nothing betrays +externally. Gambling is more terrible than fire. After a fire, some +charred remnants are found. What is there left after a lost game? +Fortunes may be thrown into the vortex of the bourse, without a trace +of them being left.” +</P> +<P>The unfortunate woman was not convinced. +</P> +<P>“I could swear, sir,” she protested, “that I knew how my husband +spent every hour of his life.” +</P> +<P>“Do not swear, madame.” +</P> +<P>“All our friends will tell you how parsimonious my husband was.” +</P> +<P>“Here, madame, towards yourself and your children, I have no doubt; +for seeing is believing: but elsewhere—” +</P> +<P>He was interrupted by the arrival of the locksmith, who, in less +than five minutes, had picked all the locks of the old desk. +</P> +<P>But in vain did the commissary search all the drawers. He found +only those useless papers which are made relics of by people who +have made order their religious faith,—uninteresting letters, +grocers' and butchers' bills running back twenty years. +</P> +<P>“It is a waste of time to look for any thing here,” he growled. +</P> +<P>And in fact he was about to give up his perquisitions, when a bundle +thinner than the rest attracted his attention. He cut the thread +that bound it; and almost at once: +</P> +<P>“I knew I was right,” he said. And holding out a paper to Mme. Favoral: +</P> +<P>“Read, madame, if you please.” +</P> +<P>It was a bill. She read thus: +</P> +<P> “Sold to M. Favoral an India Cashmere, fr. 8,500. +<BR> Received payment, FORBE & Towler.” +</P> +<P>“Is it for you, madame,” asked the commissary, “that this magnificent +shawl was bought?” +</P> +<P>Stupefied with astonishment, the poor woman still refused to admit +the evidence. +</P> +<P>“Madame de Thaller spends a great deal,” she stammered. “My husband +often made important purchases for her account.” +</P> +<P>“Often, indeed!” interrupted the commissary of police; “for here +are many other receipted bills,—earrings, sixteen thousand francs; +a bracelet, three thousand francs; a parlor set, a horse, two velvet +dresses. Here is a part, at least, if not the whole, of the ten +millions.” +</P> + + +<H2>V + +</H2><P>Had the commissary received any information in advance? or was he +guided only by the scent peculiar to men of his profession, and the +habit of suspecting every thing, even that which seems most unlikely? +</P> +<P>At any rate he expressed himself in a tone of absolute certainty. +</P> +<P>The agents who had accompanied and assisted him in his researches +were winking at each other, and giggling stupidly. The situation +struck them as rather pleasant. +</P> +<P>The others, M. Desclavettes, M. Chapelain, and the worthy M. +Desormeaux himself, could have racked their brains in vain to find +terms wherein to express the immensity of their astonishments. +Vincent Favoral, their old friend, paying for cashmeres, diamonds, +and parlor sets! Such an idea could not enter in their minds. For +whom could such princely gifts be intended? For a mistress, for +one of those redoubtable creatures whom fancy represents crouching +in the depths of love, like monsters at the bottom of their caves! +</P> +<P>But how could any one imagine the methodic cashier of the Mutual +Credit Society carried away by one of those insane passions which +knew no reason? Ruined by gambling, perhaps, but by a woman! +</P> +<P>Could any one picture him, so homely and so plain here, Rue St. +Gilles, at the head of another establishment, and leading elsewhere +in one of the brilliant quarters of Paris, a reckless life, such as +strike terror in the bosom of quiet families? +</P> +<P>Could any one understand the same man at once miserly-economical and +madly-prodigal, storming when his wife spent a few cents, and robbing +to supply the expenses of an adventuress, and collecting in the same +drawer the jeweler's accounts and the butcher's bills? +</P> +<P>“It is the climax of absurdity,” murmured good M. Desormeaux. +</P> +<P>Maxence fairly shook with wrath. Mlle. Gilberte was weeping. +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral alone, usually so timid, boldly defended, and with her +utmost energy, the man whose name she bore. That he might have +embezzled millions, she admitted: that he had deceived and betrayed +her so shamefully, that he had made a wretched dupe of her for so +many years, seemed to her insensate, monstrous, impossible. +</P> +<P>And purple with shame: +</P> +<P>“Your suspicions would vanish at once, sir,” she said to the +commissary, “if I could but explain to you our mode of life.” +</P> +<P>Encouraged by his first discovery, he was proceeding more minutely +with his perquisitions, undoing the strings of every bundle. +</P> +<P>“It is useless, madame,” he answered in that brief tone which made so +much impression upon M. Desclavettes. “You can only tell me what you +know; and you know nothing.” +</P> +<P>“Never, sir, did a man lead a more regular life than M. Favoral.” +</P> +<P>“In appearance, you are right. Besides, to regulate one's disorder +is one of the peculiarities of our time. We open credits to our +passions, and we keep account of our infamies by double entry. We +operate with method. We embezzle millions that we may hang diamonds +to the ears of an adventuress; but we are careful, and we keep the +receipted bills.” +</P> +<P>“But, sir, I have already told you that I never lost sight of my +husband.” +</P> +<P>“Of course.” +</P> +<P>“Every morning, precisely at nine o'clock, he left home to go to M. +de Thaller's office.” +</P> +<P>“The whole neighborhood knows that, madame.” +</P> +<P>“At half-past five he came home.” +</P> +<P>“That, also, is a well-known fact.” +</P> +<P>“After dinner he went out to play a game, but it was his only +amusement; and at eleven o'clock he was always in bed.” +</P> +<P>“Perfectly correct.” +</P> +<P>“Well, then, sir, where could M. Favoral have found time to abandon +himself to the excesses of which you accuse him?” +</P> +<P>Imperceptibly the commissary of police shrugged his shoulders. +</P> +<P>“Far from me, madame,” he uttered, “to doubt your good faith. What +matters it, moreover, whether your husband spent in this way or in +that way the sums which he is charged with having appropriated? But +what do your objections prove? Simply that M. Favoral was very +skillful, and very much self-possessed. Had he breakfasted when he +left you at nine? No. Pray, then, where did he breakfast? In a +restaurant? Which? Why did he come home only at half-past five, +when his office actually closed at three o'clock? Are you quite +sure that it was to the Café Turc that he went every evening? +Finally, why do not you say anything of the extra work which he +always had to attend to, as he pretended, once or twice a month? +Sometimes it was a loan, sometimes a liquidation, or a settlement +of dividends, which devolved upon him. Did he come home then? No. +He told you that he would dine out, and that it would be more +convenient for him to have a cot put up in his office; and thus +you were twenty-four or forty-eight hours without seeing him. +Surely this double existence must have weighed heavily upon him; +but he was forbidden from breaking off with you, under penalty of +being caught the very next day with his hand in the till. It is +the respectability of his official life here which made the other +possible,—that which has absorbed such enormous sums. The harsher +and the closer he were here, the more magnificent he could show +himself elsewhere. His household in the Rue St. Gilles was for +him a certificate of impunity. Seeing him so economical, every one +thought him rich. People who seem to spend nothing are always +trusted. Every privation which he imposed upon you increased his +reputation of austere probity, and raised him farther above +suspicion.” +</P> +<P>Big tears were rolling down Mme. Favoral's cheeks. +</P> +<P>“Why not tell me the whole truth?” she stammered. +</P> +<P>“Because I do not know it,” replied the commissary; “because these +are all mere presumptions. I have seen so many instances of similar +calculations!” +</P> +<P>Then regretting, perhaps, to have said so much, +</P> +<P>“But I may be mistaken,” he added: “I do not pretend to be +infallible.” He was just then completing a brief inventory of all +the papers found in the old desk. There was nothing left but to +examine the drawer which was used for a cash drawer. He found in +it in gold, notes, and small change, seven hundred and eighteen +francs. +</P> +<P>Having counted this sum, the commissary offered it to Mme. Favoral, +saying, +</P> +<P>“This belongs to you madame.” +</P> +<P>But instinctively she withdrew her hand. +</P> +<P>“Never!” she said. +</P> +<P>The commissary went on with a gesture of kindness,—“I understand +your scruples, madame, and yet I must insist. You may believe me +when I tell you that this little sum is fairly and legitimately +yours. You have no personal fortune.” +</P> +<P>The efforts of the poor woman to keep from bursting into loud sobs +were but too visible. +</P> +<P>“I possess nothing in the world, sir,” she said in a broken voice. +“My husband alone attended to our business-affairs. He never spoke +to me about them; and I would not have dared to question him. Alone +he disposed of our money. Every Sunday he handed me the amount which +he thought necessary for the expenses of the week, and I rendered him +an account of it. When my children or myself were in need of any +thing, I told him so, and he gave me what he thought proper. This +is Saturday: of what I received last Sunday I have five francs left: +that, is our whole fortune.” +</P> +<P>Positively the commissary was moved. +</P> +<P>“You see, then, madame,” he said, “that you cannot hesitate: you must +live.” +</P> +<P>Maxence stepped forward. +</P> +<P>“Am I not here, sir?” he said. +</P> +<P>The commissary looked at him keenly, and in a grave tone, +</P> +<P>“I believe indeed, sir,” he replied, “that you will not suffer your +mother and sister to want for any thing. But resources are not +created in a day. Yours, if I have not been deceived, are more than +limited just now.” +</P> +<P>And as the young man blushed, and did not answer, he handed the seven +hundred francs to Mlle. Gilberte, saying, +</P> +<P>“Take this, mademoiselle: your mother permits it.” His work was done. +To place his seals upon M. Favoral's study was the work of a moment. +</P> +<P>Beckoning, then, to his agents to withdraw, and being ready to leave +himself, +</P> +<P>“Let not the seals cause you any uneasiness, madame,” said the +commissary of police to Mme. Favoral. “Before forty-eight hours, +some one will come to remove these papers, and restore to you the +free use of that room.” +</P> +<P>He went out; and, as soon as the door had closed behind him, +</P> +<P>“Well?” exclaimed M. Desormeaux; +</P> +<P>But no one had any thing to say. The guests of that house where +misfortune had just entered were making haste to leave. The +catastrophe was certainly terrible and unforeseen; but did it not +reach them too? Did they not lose among them more than three hundred +thousand francs? +</P> +<P>Thus, after a few commonplace protestations, and some of those +promises which mean nothing, they withdrew; and, as they were going +down the stairs, +</P> +<P>“The commissary took Vincent's escape too easy,” remarked M. +Desormeaux. “He must know some way to catch him again.” +</P> + + +<H2>VI + +</H2><P>At last Mme. Favoral found herself alone with her children and free +to give herself up to the most frightful despair. +</P> +<P>She dropped heavily upon a seat; and, drawing to her bosom Maxence +and Gilberte, +</P> +<P>“O my children!” she sobbed, covering them with her kisses and her +tears,—“my children, we are most unfortunate.” +</P> +<P>Not less distressed than herself, they strove, nevertheless, to +mitigate her anguish, to inspire her with sufficient courage to bear +this crushing trial; and kneeling at her feet, and kissing her hands, +</P> +<P>“Are we not with you still, mother?” they kept repeating. +</P> +<P>But she seemed not to hear them. +</P> +<P>“It is not for myself that I weep,” she went on. “I! what had I +still to wait or hope for in life? Whilst you, Maxence, you, my +poor Gilberte!—If, at least, I could feel myself free from blame! +But no. It is my weakness and my want of courage that have brought +on this catastrophe. I shrank from the struggle. I purchased my +domestic peace at the cost of your future in the world. I forgot +that a mother has sacred duties towards her children.” +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral was at this time a woman of some forty-three years, +with delicate and mild features, a countenance overflowing with +kindness, and whose whole being exhaled, as it were, an exquisite +perfume of <I>noblesse</I> and distinction. +</P> +<P>Happy, she might have been beautiful still,—of that autumnal +beauty whose maturity has the splendors of the luscious fruits of +the later season. +</P> +<P>But she had suffered so much! The livid paleness of her complexion, +the rigid fold of her lips, the nervous shudders that shook her +frame, revealed a whole existence of bitter deceptions, of exhausting +struggles, and of proudly concealed humiliations. +</P> +<P>And yet every thing seemed to smile upon her at the outset of life. +</P> +<P>She was an only daughter; and her parents, wealthy silk-merchants, +had brought her up like the daughter of an archduchess desired to +marry some sovereign prince. +</P> +<P>But at fifteen she had lost her mother. Her father, soon tired of +his lonely fireside, commenced to seek away from home some diversion +from his sorrow. +</P> +<P>He was a man of weak mind,—one of those marked in advance to play +the part of eternal dupes. Having money, he found many friends. +Having once tasted the cup of facile pleasures, he yielded readily +to its intoxication. Suppers, cards, amusements, absorbed his +time, to the utter detriment of his business. And, eighteen months +after his wife's death, he had already spent a large portion of his +fortune, when he fell into the hands of an adventuress, whom, without +regard for his daughter, he audaciously brought beneath his own roof. +</P> +<P>In provincial cities, where everybody knows everybody else, such +infamies are almost impossible. They are not quite so rare in Paris, +where one is, so to speak, lost in the crowd, and where the +restraining power of the neighbor's opinion is lacking. +</P> +<P>For two years the poor girl, condemned to bear this illegitimate +stepmother, endured nameless sufferings. +</P> +<P>She had just completed her eighteenth year, when, one evening, her +father took her aside. +</P> +<P>“I have made up my mind to marry again,” he said; “but I wish first +to provide you with a husband. I have looked for one, and found him. +He is not very brilliant perhaps; but he is, it seems, a good, +hard-working, economical fellow, who'll make his way in the world. +I had dreamed of something better for you; but times are hard, trade +is dull: in short, having only a dowry of twenty thousand francs to +give you, I have no right to be very particular. To-morrow I'll +bring you my candidate.” +</P> +<P>And, sure enough, the next day that excellent father introduced M. +Vincent Favoral to his daughter. +</P> +<P>She was not pleased with him; but she could hardly have said that +she was displeased. +</P> +<P>He was, at the age of twenty-five, which he had just reached, a man +so utterly lacking in individuality, that he could scarcely have +excited any feeling either of sympathy or affection. +</P> +<P>Suitably dressed, he seemed timid and awkward, reserved, quite +diffident, and of mediocre intelligence. He confessed to have +received a most imperfect education, and declared himself quite +ignorant of life. He had scarcely any means outside his profession. +He was at this time chief accountant in a large factory of the +Faubourg St. Antoine, with a salary of four thousand Francs a year. +</P> +<P>The young girl did not hesitate a moment. Any thing appeared to +her preferable to the contact of a woman whom she abhorred and +despised. +</P> +<P>She gave her consent; and, twenty days after the first interview, +she had become Mme. Favoral. +</P> +<P>Alas! six weeks had not elapsed, before she knew that she had but +exchanged her wretched fate for a more wretched one still. +</P> +<P>Not that her husband was in any way unkind to her (he dared not, as +yet); but he had revealed himself enough to enable her to judge him. +He was one of those formidably selfish men who wither every thing +around them, like those trees within the shadow of which nothing can +grow. His coldness concealed a stupid obstinacy; his mildness, an +iron will. +</P> +<P>If he had married, 'twas because he thought a wife a necessary +adjunct, because he desired a home wherein to command, because, above +all, he had been seduced by the dowry of twenty thousand francs. +</P> +<P>For the man had one passion,—money. Under his placid countenance +revolved thoughts of the most burning covetousness. He wished to +be rich. +</P> +<P>Now, as he had no illusion whatever upon his own merits, as he knew +himself to be perfectly incapable of any of those daring conceptions +which lead to rapid fortune, as he was in no wise enterprising, he +conceived but one means to achieve wealth, that is, to save, to +economize, to stint himself, to pile penny upon penny. +</P> +<P>His profession of accountant had furnished him with a number of +instances of the financial power of the penny daily saved, and +invested so as to yield its maximum of interest. +</P> +<P>If ever his blue eye became animated, it was when he calculated what +would be at the present time the capital produced by a simple penny +placed at five per cent interest the year of the birth of our Saviour. +</P> +<P>For him this was sublime. He conceived nothing beyond. One penny! +He wished, he said, he could have lived eighteen hundred years, to +follow the evolutions of that penny, to see it grow tenfold, a +hundred-fold, produce, swell, enlarge, and become, after centuries, +millions and hundreds of millions. +</P> +<P>In spite of all, he had, during the early months of his marriage, +allowed his wife to have a young servant. He gave her from time to +time, a five-franc-piece, and took her to the country on Sundays. +</P> +<P>This was the honeymoon; and, as he declared himself, this life of +prodigalities could not last. +</P> +<P>Under a futile pretext, the little servant was dismissed. He +tightened the strings of his purse. The Sunday excursions were +suppressed. +</P> +<P>To mere economy succeeded the niggardly parsimony which counts the +grains of salt in the <I>pot-au-feu</I>, which weighs the soap for the +washing, and measures the evening's allowance of candle. +</P> +<P>Gradually the accountant took the habit of treating his young wife +like a servant, whose honesty is suspected; or like a child, whose +thoughtlessness is to be feared. Every morning he handed her the +money for the expenses of the day; and every evening he expressed +his surprise that she had not made better use of it. He accused her +of allowing herself to be grossly cheated, or even to be in collusion +with the dealers. He charged her with being foolishly extravagant; +which fact, however, he added, did not surprise him much on the part +of the daughter of a man who had dissipated a large fortune. +</P> +<P>To cap the climax, Vincent Favoral was on the worst possible terms +with his father-in-law. Of the twenty thousand francs of his wife's +dowry, twelve thousand only had been paid, and it was in vain that he +clamored for the balance. The silk-merchant's business had become +unprofitable; he was on the verge of bankruptcy. The eight thousand +francs seemed in imminent danger. +</P> +<P>His wife alone he held responsible for this deception. He repeated +to her constantly that she had connived with her father to “take +him in,” to fleece him, to ruin him. +</P> +<P>What an existence! Certainly, had the unhappy woman known where to +find a refuge, she would have fled from that home where each of her +days was but a protracted torture. But where could she go? Of whom +could she beg a shelter? +</P> +<P>She had terrible temptations at this time, when she was not yet +twenty, and they called her the beautiful Mme. Favoral. +</P> +<P>Perhaps she would have succumbed, when she discovered that she was +about to become a mother. One year, day for day, after her marriage, +she gave birth to a son, who received the name of Maxence. +</P> +<P>The accountant was but indifferently pleased at the coming of this +son. It was, above all, a cause of expense. He had been compelled +to give some thirty francs to a nurse, and almost twice as much for +the baby's clothes. Then a child breaks up the regularity of one's +habits; and he, as he affirmed, was attached to his as much as to +life itself. And now he saw his household disturbed, the hours of +his meals altered, his own importance reduced, his authority even +ignored. +</P> +<P>But what mattered now to his young wife the ill-humor which he no +longer took the trouble to conceal? Mother, she defied her tyrant. +</P> +<P>Now, at least, she had in this world a being upon whom she could +lavish all her caresses so brutally repelled. There existed a soul +within which she reigned supreme. What troubles would not a smile +of her son have made her forget? +</P> +<P>With the admirable instinct of an egotist, M. Favoral understood so +well what passed in the mind of his wife, that he dared not complain +too much of what the little fellow cost. He made up his mind bravely; +and when four years later, his daughter Gilberte was born, instead +of lamenting: +</P> +<P>“Bash!” said he: “God blesses large families.” +</P> + + +<H2>VII + +</H2><P>But already, at this time, M. Vincent Favoral's situation had been +singularly modified. +</P> +<P>The revolution of 1848 had just taken place. The factory in the +Faubourg St. Antoine, where he was employed, had been compelled to +close its doors. +</P> +<P>One evening, as he came home at the usual hour, he announced that +he had been discharged. +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral shuddered at the thought of what her husband might be, +without work, and deprived of his salary. +</P> +<P>“What is to become of us?” she murmured. +</P> +<P>He shrugged his shoulders. Visibly he was much excited. His cheeks +were flushed; his eyes sparkled. +</P> +<P>“Bash!” he said: “we shan't starve for all that.” And, as his wife +was gazing at him in astonishment: +</P> +<P>“Well,” he went on, “what are you looking at? It is so: I know many a one +who affects to live on his income, and who are not as well off as +we are.” +</P> +<P>It was, for over six years since he was married, the first time that +he spoke of his business otherwise than to groan and complain, to +accuse fate, and curse the high price of living. The very day before, +he had declared himself ruined by the purchase of a pair of shoes +for Maxence. The change was so sudden and so great, that she hardly +knew what to think, and wondered if grief at the loss of his situation +had not somewhat disturbed his mind. +</P> +<P>“Such are women,” he went on with a giggle. “Results astonish them, +because they know nothing of the means used to bring them about. Am +I a fool, then? Would I impose upon myself privations of all sorts, +if it were to accomplish nothing? Parbleu! I love fine living +too, I do, and good dinners at the restaurant, and the theatre, and +the nice little excursions in the country. But I want to be rich. +At the price of all the comforts which I have not had, I have saved +a capital, the income of which will support us all. Eh, eh! That's +the power of the little penny put out to fatten!” +</P> +<P>As she went to bed that night, Mme. Favoral felt more happy than she +had done since her mother's death. She almost forgave her husband +his sordid parsimony, and the humiliations he had heaped upon her. +</P> +<P>“Well, be it so,” she thought. “I shall have lived miserably, I shall +have endured nameless sufferings; but my children shall be rich, their +life shall be easy and pleasant.” +</P> +<P>The next day M. Favoral's excitement had completely abated. +Manifestly he regretted his confidences. +</P> +<P>“You must not think on that account that you can waste and pillage +every thing,” he declared rudely. “Besides, I have greatly +exaggerated.” +</P> +<P>And he started in search of a situation. +</P> +<P>To find one was likely to be difficult. Times of revolution are not +exactly propitious to industry. Whilst the parties discussed in the +Chamber, there were on the street twenty thousand clerks, who, every +morning as they rose, wondered where they would dine that day. +</P> +<P>For want of any thing better, Vincent Favoral undertook to keep +books in various places,—an hour here, an hour there, twice a week +in one house, four times in another. +</P> +<P>In this way he earned as much and more than he did at the factory; +but the business did not suit him. +</P> +<P>What he liked was the office from which one does not stir, the +stove-heated atmosphere, the elbow-worn desk, the leather-cushioned +chair, the black alpaca sleeves over the coat. The idea that he +should on one and the same day have to do with five or six different +houses, and be compelled to walk an hour, to go and work another hour +at the other end of Paris, fairly irritated him. He found himself +out of his reckoning, like a horse who has turned a mill for ten +years; if he is made to trot straight before him. +</P> +<P>So, one morning, he gave up the whole thing, swearing that he would +rather remain idle until he could find a place suited to his taste +and his convenience; and, in the mean time, all they would have to +do would be to put a little less butter in the soup, and a little +more water in the wine. +</P> +<P>He went out, nevertheless, and remained until dinner-time. And he +did the same the next and the following days. +</P> +<P>He started off the moment he had swallowed the last mouthful of his +breakfast, came home at six o'clock, dined in haste, and disappeared +again, not to return until about midnight. He had hours of delirious +joy, and moments of frightful discouragement. Sometimes he seemed +horribly uneasy. +</P> +<P>“What can he be doing?” thought Mme. Favoral. +</P> +<P>She ventured to ask him the question one morning, when he was in +fine humor. +</P> +<P>“Well,” he answered, “am I not the master? I am operating at the +bourse, that's all!” +</P> +<P>He could hardly have owned to any thing that would have frightened +the poor woman as much. +</P> +<P>“Are you not afraid,” she objected, “to lose all we have so +painfully accumulated? We have children—” +</P> +<P>He did not allow her to proceed. +</P> +<P>“Do you take me for a child?” he exclaimed; “or do I look to you +like a man so easy to be duped? Mind to economize in your household +expenses, and don't meddle with my business.” +</P> +<P>And he continued. And he must have been lucky in his operations; +for he had never been so pleasant at home. All his ways had changed. +He had had clothes made at a first-class tailor's, and was evidently +trying to look elegant. He gave up his pipe, and smoked only cigars. +He got tired of giving every morning the money for the house, and +took the habit of handing it to his wife every week, on Sunday. A +mark of vast confidence, as he observed to her. And so, the first +time: +</P> +<P>“Be careful,” he said, “that you don't find yourself penniless +before Thursday.” +</P> +<P>He became also more communicative. Often during the dinner, he +would tell what he had heard during the day, anecdotes, gossip. +He enumerated the persons with whom he had spoken. He named a +number of people whom he called his friends, and whose names Mme. +Favoral carefully stored away in her memory. +</P> +<P>There was one especially, who seemed to inspire him with a profound +respect, a boundless admiration, and of whom he never tired of +talking. He was, said he, a man of his age,—M. de Thaller, the +Baron de Thaller. +</P> +<P>“This one,” he kept repeating, “is really mad: he is rich, he has +ideas, he'll go far. It would be a great piece of luck if I could +get him to do something for me!” +</P> +<P>Until at last one day: +</P> +<P>“Your parents were very rich once?” he asked his wife. +</P> +<P>“I have heard it said,” she answered. +</P> +<P>“They spent a good deal of money, did they not? They had friends: +they gave dinner-parties.” +</P> +<P>“Yes, they received a good deal of company.” +</P> +<P>“You remember that time?” +</P> +<P>“Surely I do.” +</P> +<P>“So that if I should take a fancy to receive some one here, some +one of note, you would know how to do things properly?” +</P> +<P>“I think so.” +</P> +<P>He remained silent for a moment, like a man who thinks before taking +an important decision, and then: +</P> +<P>“I wish to invite a few persons to dinner,” he said. She could +scarcely believe her ears. He had never received at his table any +one but a fellow-clerk at the factory, named Desclavettes, who had +just married the daughter of a dealer in bronzes, and succeeded to +his business. +</P> +<P>“Is it possible?” exclaimed Mme. Favoral. +</P> +<P>“So it is. The question is now, how much would a first-class dinner +cost, the best of every thing?” +</P> +<P>“That depends upon the number of guests.” +</P> +<P>“Say three or four persons.” +</P> +<P>The poor woman set herself to figuring diligently for some time; +and then timidly, for the sum seemed formidable to her: +</P> +<P>“I think,” she began, “that with a hundred francs—” +</P> +<P>Her husband commenced whistling. +</P> +<P>“You'll need that for the wines alone;” he interrupted. “Do you +take me for a fool? But here, don't let us go into figures. Do as +your parents did when they did their best; and, if it's well, I +shall not complain of the expense. Take a good cook, hire a waiter +who understands his business well.” +</P> +<P>She was utterly confounded; and yet she was not at the end of her +surprises. +</P> +<P>Soon M. Favoral declared that their table-ware was not suitable, and +that he must buy a new set. He discovered a hundred purchases to +be made, and swore that he would make them. He even hesitated a +moment about renewing the parlor furniture, although it was in +tolerably good condition still, and was a present from his +father-in-law. +</P> +<P>And, having finished his inventory: +</P> +<P>“And you,” he asked his wife: “what dress will you wear?” +</P> +<P>“I have my black silk dress—” +</P> +<P>He stopped her. +</P> +<P>“Which means that you have none at all,” he said. “Very well. You +must go this very day and get yourself one,—a very handsome, a +magnificent one; and you'll send it to be made to a fashionable +dressmaker. And at the same time you had better get some little +suits for Maxence and Gilberte. Here are a thousand francs.” +</P> +<P>Completely bewildered: +</P> +<P>“Who in the world are you going to invite, then?” she asked. +</P> +<P>“The Baron and the Baroness de Thaller,” he replied with an emphasis +full of conviction. “So try and distinguish yourself. Our fortune +is at stake.” +</P> +<P>That this dinner was a matter of considerable import, Mme. Favoral +could not doubt when she saw her husband's fabulous liberality +continue without flinching for a number of days. +</P> +<P>Ten times of an afternoon he would come home to tell his wife the +name of some dish that had been mentioned before him, or to consult +her on the subject of some exotic viand he had just noticed in some +shop-window. Daily he brought home wines of the most fantastic +vintages,—those wines which dealers manufacture for the special +use of verdant fools, and which they sell in odd-shaped bottles +previously overlaid with secular dust and cobwebs. +</P> +<P>He subjected to a protracted cross-examination the cook whom Mme. +Favoral had engaged, and demanded that she should enumerate the +houses where she had cooked. He absolutely required the man who was +to wait at the table to exhibit the dress-coat he was to wear. +</P> +<P>The great day having come, he did not stir from the house, going +and coming from the kitchen to the dining-room, uneasy, agitated, +unable to stay in one place. He breathed only when he had seen the +table set and loaded with the new china he had purchased and the +magnificent silver he had gone to hire in person. And when his +young wife made her appearance, looking lovely in her new dress, +and leading by the hands the two children, Maxence and Gilberte, in +their new suits: +</P> +<P>“That's perfect,” he exclaimed, highly delighted. “Nothing could be +better. Now, let our four guests come!” +</P> +<P>They arrived a few minutes before seven, in two carriages, the +magnificence of which astonished the Rue St. Gilles. +</P> +<P>And, the presentations over, Vincent Favoral had at last the +ineffable satisfaction to see seated at his table the Baron and +Baroness de Thaller, M. Saint Pavin, who called himself a financial +editor, and M. Jules Jottras, of the house of Jottras & Brother. +</P> +<P>It was with an eager curiosity that Mme. Favoral observed these +people whom her husband called his friends, and whom she saw herself +for the first time. +</P> +<P>M. de Thaller, who could not then have been much over thirty, was +already a man without any particular age. +</P> +<P>Cold, stiff, aping evidently the English style, he expressed +himself in brief sentences, and with a strong foreign accent. +Nothing to surprise on his countenance. He had the forehead +prominent, the eyes of a dull blue, and the nose very thin. His +scanty hair was spread over the top of his head with labored +symmetry; and his red, thick, and carefully-trimmed whiskers seemed +to engross much of his attention. +</P> +<P>M. Saint Pavin had not the same stiff manner. Careless in his +dress, he lacked breeding. He was a robust fellow, dark and bearded, +with thick lips, the eye bright and prominent, spreading upon the +table-cloth broad hands ornamented at the joints with small tufts of +hair, speaking loud, laughing noisily, eating much and drinking more. +</P> +<P>By the side of him, M. Jules Jottras, although looking like a +fashion-plate, did not show to much advantage. Delicate, blonde, +sallow, almost beardless, M. Jottras distinguished himself only by +a sort of unconscious impudence, a harmless cynicism, and a sort of +spasmodic giggle, that shook the eye-glasses which he wore stuck +over his nose. +</P> +<P>But it was above all Mme. de Thaller who excited Mme. Favoral's +apprehensions. +</P> +<P>Dressed with a magnificence of at least questionable taste, very +much <I>decolletee</I>, wearing large diamonds at her ears, and rings on +all her fingers, the young baroness was insolently handsome, of a +beauty sensuous even to coarseness. With hair of a bluish black, +twisted over the neck in heavy ringlets, she had skin of a pearly +whiteness, lips redder than blood, and great eyes that threw flames +from beneath their long, curved lashes. It was the poetry of flesh; +and one could not help admiring. Did she speak, however, or make +a gesture, all admiration vanished. The voice was vulgar, the motion +common. Did M. Jottras venture upon a double-entendre, she would +throw herself back upon her chair to laugh, stretching her neck, and +thrusting her throat forward. +</P> +<P>Wholly absorbed in the care of his guests, M. Favoral remarked +nothing. He only thought of loading the plates, and filling the +glasses, complaining that they ate and drank nothing, asking +anxiously if the cooking was not good, if the wines were bad, and +almost driving the waiter out of his wits with questions and +suggestions. +</P> +<P>It is a fact, that neither M. de Thaller nor M. Jottras had much +appetite. But M. Saint Pavin officiated for all; and the sole task +of keeping up with him caused M. Favoral to become visibly animated. +</P> +<P>His cheeks were much flushed, when, having passed the champagne all +around, he raised his froth-tipped glass, exclaiming: +</P> +<P>“I drink to the success of the business.” +</P> +<P>“To the success of the business,” echoed the others, touching his +glass. +</P> +<P>And a few moments later they passed into the parlor to take coffee. +</P> +<P>This toast had caused Mme. Favoral no little uneasiness. But she +found it impossible to ask a single question; Mme. de Thaller +dragging her almost by force to a seat by her side on the sofa, +pretending that two women always have secrets to exchange, even when +they see each other for the first time. +</P> +<P>The young baroness was fully <I>au fait</I> in matters of bonnets and +dresses; and it was with giddy volubility that she asked Mme. +Favoral the names of her milliner and her dressmaker, and to what +jeweler she intrusted her diamonds to be reset. +</P> +<P>This looked so much like a joke, that the poor housekeeper of the +Rue St. Gilles could not help smiling whilst answering that she had +no dressmaker, and that, having no diamonds, she had no possible +use for the services of a jeweler. +</P> +<P>The other declared she could not get over it. No diamonds! That +was a misfortune exceeding all. And quick she seized the opportunity +charitably to enumerate the parures in her jewel-case, and laces in +her drawers, and the dresses in her wardrobes. In the first place, it +would have been impossible for her, she swore, to live with a husband +either miserly or poor. Hers had just presented her with a lovely +coupe, lined with yellow satin, a perfect bijou. And she made good +use of it too; for she loved to go about. She spent her days +shopping, or riding in the Bois. Every evening she had the choice +of the theatre or a ball, often both. The genre theatres were those +she preferred. To be sure, the opera and the Italiens were more +stylish; but she could not help gaping there. +</P> +<P>Then she wished to kiss the children; and Gilberte and Maxence had +to be brought in. She adored children, she vowed: it was her +weakness, her passion. She had herself a little girl, eighteen +months old, called Cesarine, to whom she was devoted; and certainly +she would have brought her, had she not feared she would have been +in the way. +</P> +<P>All this verbiage sounded like a confused murmur to Mme. Favoral's +ears. “Yes, no,” she answered, hardly knowing to what she did answer. +</P> +<P>Her head heavy with a vague apprehension, it required her utmost +attention to observe her husband and his guests. +</P> +<P>Standing by the mantel-piece, smoking their cigars, they conversed +with considerable animation, but not loud enough to enable her to +hear all they said. It was only when M. Saint Pavin spoke that she +understood that they were still discussing the “business;” for he +spoke of articles to publish, stocks to sell, dividends to distribute, +sure profits to reap. +</P> +<P>They all, at any rate, seemed to agree perfectly; and at a certain +moment she saw her husband and M. de Thaller strike each other's +hand, as people do who exchange a pledge. +</P> +<P>Eleven o'clock struck. +</P> +<P>M. Favoral was insisting to make his guests accept a cup of tea or +a glass of punch; but M. de Thaller declared that he had some work +to do, and that, his carriage having come, he must go. +</P> +<P>And go he did, taking with him the baroness, followed by M. Saint +Pavin and M. Jottras. And when, the door having closed upon them, +M. Favoral found himself alone with his wife, +</P> +<P>“Well,” he exclaimed, swelling with gratified vanity, “what do you +think of our friends?” +</P> +<P>“They surprised me,” she answered. +</P> +<P>He fairly jumped at that word. +</P> +<P>“I should like to know why?” +</P> +<P>Then, timidly, and with infinite precautions, she commenced +explaining that M. de Thaller's face inspired her with no confidence; +that M. Jottras had seemed to her a very impudent personage; that M. +Saint Pavin appeared low and vulgar; and that, finally, the young +baroness had given her of herself the most singular idea. +</P> +<P>M. Favoral refused to hear more. +</P> +<P>“It's because you have never seen people of the best society,” he +exclaimed. +</P> +<P>“Excuse me. Formerly, during my mother's life—” +</P> +<P>“Eh! Your mother never received but shop-keepers.” +</P> +<P>The poor woman dropped her head. +</P> +<P>“I beg of you, Vincent,” she insisted, “before doing any thing with +these new friends, think well, consult—” +</P> +<P>He burst out laughing. +</P> +<P>“Are you not afraid that they will cheat me?” he said,—“people ten +times as rich as we are. Here, don't let us speak of it any more, +and let us go to bed. You'll see what this dinner will bring us, and +whether I ever have reason to regret the money we have spent.” +</P> + + +<H2>VIII + +</H2><P>When, on the morning after this dinner, which was to form an era in +her life, Mme. Favoral woke up, her husband was already up, pencil +in hand, and busy figuring. +</P> +<P>The charm had vanished with the fumes of the champagne; and the +clouds of the worst days were gathering upon his brow. +</P> +<P>Noticing that his wife was looking at him, +</P> +<P>“It's expensive work,” he said in a bluff tone, “to set a business +going; and it wouldn't do to commence over again every day.” +</P> +<P>To hear him speak, one would have thought that Mme. Favoral alone, +by dint of hard begging, had persuaded him into that expense which +he now seemed to regret so much. She quietly called his attention +to the fact, reminding him that, far from urging, she had endeavored +to hold him back; repeating that she augured ill of that business +over which he was so enthusiastic, and that, if he would believe her, +he would not venture. +</P> +<P>“Do you even know what the project is?” he interrupted rudely. +</P> +<P>“You have not told me.” +</P> +<P>“Very well, then: leave me in peace with your presentiments. You +dislike my friends; and I saw very well how you treated Mme. de +Thaller. But I am the master; and what I have decided shall be. +Besides, I have signed. Once for all, I forbid you ever speaking +to me again on that subject.” +</P> +<P>Whereupon, having dressed himself with much care, he started off, +saying that he was expected at breakfast by Saint Pavin, the +financial editor, and by M. Jottras, of the house of Jottras +& Brother. +</P> +<P>A shrewd woman would not have given it up so easy, and, in the end, +would probably have mastered the despot, whose intellect was far +from brilliant. But Mme. Favoral was too proud to be shrewd; and +besides, the springs of her will had been broken by the successive +oppression of an odious stepmother and a brutal master. Her +abdication of all was complete. Wounded, she kept the secret of +her wound, hung her head, and said nothing. +</P> +<P>She did not, therefore, venture a single allusion; and nearly a +week elapsed, during which the names of her late guests were not +once mentioned. +</P> +<P>It was through a newspaper, which M. Favoral had forgotten in the +parlor, that she learned that the Baron de Thaller had just founded +a new stock company, the Mutual Credit Society, with a capital of +several millions. +</P> +<P>Below the advertisement, which was printed in enormous letters, +came a long article, in which it was demonstrated that the new +company was, at the same time, a patriotic undertaking and an +institution of credit of the first class; that it supplied a great +public want; that it would be of inestimable benefit to industry; +that its profits were assured; and that to subscribe to its stock +was simply to draw short bills upon fortune. +</P> +<P>Already somewhat re-assured by the reading of this article, Mme. +Favoral became quite so when she read the names of the board of +directors. Nearly all were titled, and decorated with many foreign +orders; and the remainder were bankers, office-holders, and even +some ex-ministers. +</P> +<P>“I must have been mistaken,” she thought, yielding unconsciously to +the influence of printed evidence. +</P> +<P>And no objection occurred to her, when, a few days later, her +husband told her, +</P> +<P>“I have the situation I wanted. I am head cashier of the company +of which M. de Thaller is manager.” +</P> +<P>That was all. Of the nature of this society, of the advantages +which it offered him, not one word. +</P> +<P>Only by the way in which he expressed himself did Mme. Favoral judge +that he must have been well treated; and he further confirmed her in +that opinion by granting her, of his own accord, a few additional +francs for the daily expenses of the house. +</P> +<P>“We must,” he declared on this memorable occasion, “do honor to our +social position, whatever it may cost.” +</P> +<P>For the first time in his life, he seemed heedful of public opinion. +He recommended his wife to be careful of her dress and of that of +the children, and re-engaged a servant. He expressed the wish of +enlarging their circle of acquaintances, and inaugurated his Saturday +dinners, to which came assiduously, M. and Mme. Desclavettes, M. +Chapelain the attorney, the old man Desormeaux, and a few others. +</P> +<P>As to himself he gradually settled down into those habits from +which he was nevermore to depart, and the chronometric regularity +of which had secured him the nickname of Old Punctuality, of which +he was proud. +</P> +<P>In all other respects never did a man, to such a degree, become so +utterly indifferent to his wife and children. His house was for him +but a mere hotel, where he slept, and took his evening meal. He +never thought of questioning his wife as to the use of her time, and +what she did in his absence. Provided she did not ask him for money, +and was there when he came home, he was satisfied. +</P> +<P>Many women, at Mme. Favoral's age, might have made a strange use of +that insulting indifference and of that absolute freedom. +</P> +<P>If she did avail herself of it, it was solely to follow one of those +inspirations which can only spring in a mother's heart. +</P> +<P>The increase in the budget of the household was relatively large, but +so nicely calculated, that she had not one cent more that she could +call her own. +</P> +<P>With the most intense sorrow, she thought that her children might +have to endure the humiliating privations which had made her own +life wretched. They were too young yet to suffer from the paternal +parsimony; but they would grow; their desires would develop; and it +would be impossible for her to grant them the most innocent +satisfactions. +</P> +<P>Whilst turning over and over in her mind this distressing thought, +she remembered a friend of her mother's, who kept, in the Rue St. +Denis, a large establishment for the sale of hosiery and woollen +goods. There, perhaps, lay the solution of the problem. She called +to see the worthy woman, and, without even needing to confess the +whole truth to her, she obtained sundry pieces of work, ill paid +as a matter of course, but which, by dint of close application, +might be made to yield from eight to twelve francs a week. +</P> +<P>From this time she never lost a minute, concealing her work as if +it were an evil act. +</P> +<P>She knew her husband well enough to feel certain that he would +break out, and swear that he spent money enough to enable his wife +to live without being reduced to making a work woman of herself. +</P> +<P>But what joy, the day when she hid way down at the bottom of a +drawer the first twenty-franc-piece she had earned, a beautiful +gold-piece, which belonged to her without contest, and which she +might spend as she pleased, without having to render any account +to any one! +</P> +<P>And with what pride, from week to week, she saw her little treasure +swell, despite the drafts she made upon it, sometimes to buy a toy +for Maxence, sometimes to add a few ribbons or trinkets to Gilberte's +toilet! +</P> +<P>This was the happiest time of her life, a halt in that painful +journey through which she had been dragging herself for so many +years. Between her two children, the hours flew light and rapid +as so many seconds. If all the hopes of the young girl and of the +woman had withered before they had blossomed, the mother's joys +at least should not fail her. Because, whilst the present sufficed +to her modest ambition, the future had ceased to cause her any +uneasiness. +</P> +<P>No reference had ever been made, between herself and her husband, +to that famous dinner-party: he never spoke to her of the Mutual +Credit Society; but now and then he allowed some words or exclamations +to escape, which she carefully recorded, and which betrayed a +prosperous state of affairs. +</P> +<P>“That Thaller is a tough fellow!” he would exclaim, “and he has the +most infernal luck!” +</P> +<P>And at other times, +</P> +<P>“Two or three more operations like the one we have just successfully +wound up, and we can shut up shop!” +</P> +<P>From all this, what could she conclude, if not that he was marching +with rapid strides towards that fortune, the object of all his +ambition? +</P> +<P>Already in the neighborhood he had that reputation to be very rich, +which is the beginning of riches itself. He was admired for keeping +his house with such rigid economy; for a man is always esteemed who +has money, and does not spend it. +</P> +<P>“He is not the man ever to squander what he has,” the neighbors +repeated. +</P> +<P>The persons whom he received on Saturdays believed him more than +comfortably off. When M. Desclavettes and M. Chapelain had +complained to their hearts' contents, the one of the shop, the +other of his office, they never failed to add, +</P> +<P>“You laugh at us, because you are engaged in large operations, where +people make as much money as they like.” +</P> +<P>They seemed to hold his financial capacities in high estimation. +They consulted him, and followed his advice. +</P> +<P>M. Desormeaux was wont to say, +</P> +<P>“Oh! he knows what he is about.” +</P> +<P>And Mme. Favoral tried to persuade herself, that, in this respect +at least, her husband was a remarkable man. She attributed his +silence and his distractions to the grave cares that filled his mind. +In the same manner that he had once announced to her that they had +enough to live on, she expected him, some fine morning, to tell her +that he was a millionaire. +</P> + + +<H2>IX + +</H2><P>But the respite granted by fate to Mme. Favoral was drawing to an +end: her trials were about to return more poignant than ever, +occasioned, this time, by her children, hitherto her whole happiness +and her only consolation. +</P> +<P>Maxence was nearly twelve. He was a good little fellow, intelligent, +studious at times, but thoughtless in the extreme, and of a +turbulence which nothing could tame. +</P> +<P>At the Massin School, where he had been sent, he made his teachers' +hair turn white; and not a week went by that he did not signalize +himself by some fresh misdeed. +</P> +<P>A father like any other would have paid but slight attention to the +pranks of a schoolboy, who, after all, ranked among the first of his +class, and of whom the teachers themselves, whilst complaining, said, +</P> +<P>“Bash! What matters it, since the heart is sound and the mind sane?” +</P> +<P>But M. Favoral took every thing tragically. If Maxence was kept in, +or otherwise punished, he pretended that it reflected upon himself, +and that his son was disgracing him. +</P> +<P>If a report came home with this remark, “execrable conduct,” he fell +into the most violent passion, and seemed to lose all control of +himself. +</P> +<P>“At your age,” he would shout to the terrified boy, “I was working +in a factory, and earning my livelihood. Do you suppose that I +will not tire of making sacrifices to procure you the advantages +of an education which I lacked myself? Beware. Havre is not far +off; and cabin-boys are always in demand there.” +</P> +<P>If, at least, he had confined himself to these admonitions, which, +by their very exaggeration, failed in their object! But he favored +mechanical appliances as a necessary means of sufficiently impressing +reprimands upon the minds of young people; and therefore, seizing +his cane, he would beat poor Maxence most unmercifully, the more so +that the boy, filled with pride, would have allowed himself to be +chopped to pieces rather than utter a cry, or shed a tear. +</P> +<P>The first time that Mme. Favoral saw her son struck, she was seized +with one of those wild fits of anger which do not reason, and never +forgive. To be beaten herself would have seemed to her less +atrocious, less humiliating. Hitherto she had found it impossible +to love a husband such as hers: henceforth, she took him in utter +aversion: he inspired her with horror. She looked upon her son as +a martyr for whom she could hardly ever do enough. +</P> +<P>And so, after these harrowing scenes, she would press him to her +heart in the most passionate embrace; she would cover with her kisses +the traces of the blows; and she would strive, by the most delirious +caresses, to make him forget the paternal brutalities. With him she +sobbed. Like him, she would shake her clinched fists in the vacant +space; exclaiming, “Coward, tyrant, assassin!” The little Gilberte +mingled her tears with theirs; and, pressed against each other, they +deplored their destiny, cursing the common enemy, the head of the +family. +</P> +<P>Thus did Maxence spend his boyhood between equally fatal +exaggerations, between the revolting brutalities of his father, and +the dangerous caresses of his mother; the one depriving him of every +thing, the other refusing him nothing. +</P> +<P>For Mme. Favoral had now found a use for her humble savings. +</P> +<P>If the idea had never come to the cashier of the Mutual Credit +Society to put a few sous in his son's pocket, the too weak mother +would have suggested to him the want of money in order to have the +pleasure of gratifying it. +</P> +<P>She who had suffered so many humiliations in her life, she could not +bear the idea of her son having his pride wounded, and being unable +to indulge in those little trifling expenses which are the vanity +of schoolboys. +</P> +<P>“Here, take this,” she would tell him on holidays, slipping a few +francs into his hands. +</P> +<P>Unfortunately, to her present she joined the recommendation not to +allow his father to know any thing about it; forgetting that she was +thus training Maxence to dissimulate, warping his natural sense of +right, and perverting his instincts. +</P> +<P>No, she gave; and, to repair the gaps thus made in her treasure, she +worked to the point of ruining her sight, with such eager zeal, that +the worthy shop-keeper of the Rue St. Denis asked her if she did not +employ working girls. In truth, the only help she received was from +Gilberte, who, at the age of eight, already knew how to make herself +useful. +</P> +<P>And this is not all. For this son, in anticipation of growing +expenses, she stooped to expedients which formerly would have seemed +to her unworthy and disgraceful. She robbed the household, cheating +on her own marketing. She went so far as to confide to her servant, +and to make of the girl the accomplice of her operations. She +applied all her ingenuity to serve to M. Favoral dinners in which +the excellence of the dressing concealed the want of solid substance. +And on Sunday, when she rendered her weekly accounts, it was without +a blush that she increased by a few centimes the price of each object, +rejoicing when she had thus scraped a dozen francs, and finding, to +justify herself to her own eyes, those sophisms which passion never +lacks. +</P> +<P>At first Maxence was too young to wonder from what sources his mother +drew the money she lavished upon his schoolboy fancies. She +recommended him to hide from his father: he did so, and thought it +perfectly natural. +</P> +<P>As he grew older, he learned to discern. +</P> +<P>The moment came when he opened his eyes upon the system under which +the paternal household was managed. He noticed there that anxious +economy which seems to betray want, and the acrimonious discussions +which arose upon the inconsiderate use of a twenty-franc-piece. He +saw his mother realize miracles of industry to conceal the shabbiness +of her toilets, and resort to the most skillful diplomacy when she +wished to purchase a dress for Gilberte. +</P> +<P>And, despite all this, he had at his disposition as much money as +those of his comrades whose parents had the reputation to be the +most opulent and the most generous. +</P> +<P>Anxious, he questioned his mother. +</P> +<P>“Eh, what does it matter?” she answered, blushing +and confused. “Is that any thing to worry you?” +</P> +<P>And, as he insisted, +</P> +<P>“Go ahead,” she said: “we are rich enough.” But he could hardly +believe her, accustomed as he was to hear every one talk of poverty; +and, as he fixed upon her his great astonished eyes, +</P> +<P>“Yes,” she resumed, with an imprudence which fatally was to bear its +fruits, “we are rich; and, if we live as you see, it is because it +suits your father, who wishes to amass a still greater fortune.” +</P> +<P>This was hardly an answer; and yet Maxence asked no further question. +But he inquired here and there, with that patient shrewdness of young +people possessed with a fixed idea. +</P> +<P>Already, at this time, M. Favoral had in the neighborhood, and ever +among his friends, the reputation to be worth at least a million. +The Mutual Credit Society had considerably developed itself: he must, +they thought, have benefitted largely by the circumstance; and the +profits must have swelled rapidly in the hands of so able a man, +and one so noted for his rigid economy. +</P> +<P>Such is the substance of what Maxence heard; and people did not fail +to add ironically, that he need not rely upon the paternal fortune +to amuse himself. +</P> +<P>M. Desormeaux himself, whom he had “pumped” rather cleverly, had +told him, whilst patting him amicably on the shoulder, +</P> +<P>“If you ever need money for your frolics, young man, try and earn +it; for I'll be hanged if it's the old man who'll ever supply it.” +</P> +<P>Such answers complicated, instead of explaining, the problem which +occupied Maxence. +</P> +<P>He observed, he watched; and at last he acquired the certainty that +the money he spent was the fruit of the joint labor of his mother +and sister. +</P> +<P>“Ah! why not have told me so?” he exclaimed, throwing his arms +around his mother's neck. “Why have exposed me to the bitter regrets +which I feel at this moment?” +</P> +<P>By this sole word the poor woman found herself amply repaid. She +admired the <I>noblesse</I> of her son's feelings and the kindness of his +heart. +</P> +<P>“Do you not understand,” she told him, shedding tears of joy, “do +you not see, that the labor which can promote her son's pleasure is +a happiness for his mother?” +</P> +<P>But he was dismayed at his discovery. +</P> +<P>“No matter!” he said. “I swear that I shall no longer scatter to +the winds, as I have been doing, the money that you give me.” +</P> +<P>For a few weeks, indeed, he was faithful to his pledge. But at +fifteen resolutions are not very stanch. The impressions he had +felt wore off. He became tired of the small privations which he had +to impose upon himself. +</P> +<P>He soon came to take to the letter what his mother had told him, and +to prove to his own satisfaction that to deprive himself of a +pleasure was to deprive her. He asked for ten francs one day, then +ten francs another, and gradually resumed his old habits. +</P> +<P>He was at this time about leaving school. +</P> +<P>“The moment has come,” said M. Favoral, “for him to select a career, +and support himself.” +</P> + + +<H2>X + +</H2><P>To think of a profession, Maxence Favoral had not waited for the +paternal warnings. +</P> +<P>Modern schoolboys are precocious: they know the strong and the weak +side of life; and, when they take their degree, they already have +but few illusions left. +</P> +<P>And how could it be otherwise? In the interior of the colleges is +fatally found the echo of the thoughts, and the reflex of the manners, +of the time. Neither walls nor keepers can avail. At the same time, +as the city mud that stains their boots, the scholars bring back on +their return from holidays their stock of observations and of facts. +</P> +<P>And what have they seen during the day in their families, or among +their friends? +</P> +<P>Ardent cravings, insatiable appetites for luxuries, comforts, +enjoyments, pleasures, contempt for patient labor, scorn for austere +convictions, eager longing for money, the will to become rich at any +cost, and the firm resolution to ravish fortune on the first +favorable occasion. +</P> +<P>To be sure, they have dissembled in their presence; but their +perceptions are keen. +</P> +<P>True, their father has told them in a grave tone, that there is +nothing respectable in this world except labor and honesty; but they +have caught that same father scarcely noticing a poor devil of an +honest man, and bowing to the earth before some clever rascal bearing +the stigma of three judgments, but worth six millions. +</P> +<P>Conclusion? Oh! they know very well how to conclude; for there are +none such as young people to be logical, and to deduce the utmost +consequences of a fact. +</P> +<P>They know, the most of them, that they will have to do something or +other; but what? And it is then, that, during the recreations, +their imagination strives to find that hitherto unknown profession +which is to give them fortune without work, and freedom at the same +time as a brilliant situation. +</P> +<P>They discuss and criticise freely all the careers which are open to +youthful ambition. And how they laugh, if some simple fellow +ventures upon suggesting some of those modest situations where they +earn one hundred and fifty francs a month at the start! One hundred +and fifty francs!—why, it's hardly as much as many a boy spends +for his cigars, and his cab-fares when he is late. +</P> +<P>Maxence was neither better nor worse than the rest. Like the rest +he strove to discover the ideal profession which makes a man rich, +and amuses him at the same time. +</P> +<P>Under the pretext that he drew nicely, he spoke of becoming a painter, +calculating coolly what painting may yield, and reckoning, according +to some newspaper, the earnings of Corot or Geroine, Ziem, Bouguereau, +and some others, who are reaping at last the fruits of unceasing +efforts and crushing labors. +</P> +<P>But, in the way of pictures, M. Vincent Favoral appreciated only the +blue vignettes of the Bank of France. +</P> +<P>“I wish no artists in my family,” he said, in a tone that admitted +of no reply. +</P> +<P>Maxence would willingly have become an engineer, for it's rather +the style to be an engineer now-a-days; but the examinations for +the Polytechnic School are rather steep. Or else a cavalry officer; +but the two years at Saint Cyr are not very gay. Or chief clerk, +like M. Desormeaux; but he would have to begin by being supernumerary. +</P> +<P>Finally after hesitating for a long time between law and medicine, +he made up his mind to become a lawyer, influenced above all, by +the joyous legends of the Latin quarter. +</P> +<P>That was not exactly M. Vincent Favoral's dream. +</P> +<P>“That's going to cost money again,” he growled. +</P> +<P>The fact is, he had indulged in the fallacious hope that his son, +as soon as he left college, would enter at once some business-house, +where he would earn enough to take care of himself. +</P> +<P>He yielded at last, however, to the persistent entreaties of his +wife, and the solicitations of his friends. +</P> +<P>“Be it so,” he said to Maxence: “you will study law. Only, as it +cannot suit me that you should waste your days lounging in the +billiard-rooms of the left bank, you shall at the same time work +in an attorney's office. Next Saturday I shall arrange with my +friend Chapelain.” +</P> +<P>Maxence had not bargained for such an arrangement; and he came near +backing out at the prospect of a discipline which he foresaw must +be as exacting as that of the college. +</P> +<P>Still, as he could think of nothing better, he persevered. And, +vacations over, he was duly entered at the law-school, and settled +at a desk in M. Chapelain's office, which was then in the Rue St. +Antoine. +</P> +<P>The first year every thing went on tolerably. He enjoyed as much +freedom as he cared to. His father did not allow him one centime +for his pocket-money; but the attorney, in his capacity of an old +friend of the family, did for him what he had never done before for +an amateur clerk, and allowed him twenty francs a month. Mme. +Favoral adding to this a few five-franc pieces, Maxence declared +himself entirely satisfied. +</P> +<P>Unfortunately, with his lively imagination and his impetuous temper, +no one was less fit than himself for that peaceful existence, that +steady toil, the same each day, without the stimulus of difficulties +to overcome, or the satisfaction of results obtained. +</P> +<P>Before long he became tired of it. +</P> +<P>He had found at the law-school a number of his old schoolmates whose +parents resided in the provinces, and who, consequently, lived as +they pleased in the Latin quarter, less assiduous to the lectures +than to the Spring Brewery and the Closerie des Lilas.[*] +<BR> [ * A noted dancing-garden. ] +</P> +<P>He envied them their joyous life, their freedom without control, +their facile pleasures, their furnished rooms, and even the low +eating-house where they took their meals. And, as much as possible, +he lived with them and like them. +</P> +<P>But it is not with M. Chapelain's twenty francs that it would have +been possible for him to keep up with fellows, who, with superb +recklessness, took on credit everything they could get, reserving +the amount of their allowance for those amusements which had to be +paid for in cash. +</P> +<P>But was not Mme. Favoral here? +</P> +<P>She had worked so much, the poor woman, especially since Mlle. +Gilberte had become almost a young lady; she had so much saved, so +much stinted, that her reserve, notwithstanding repeated drafts, +amounted to a good round sum. +</P> +<P>When Maxence wanted two or three napoleons, he had but a word to +say; and he said it often. Thus, after a while, he became an +excellent billiard-player; he kept his colored meerschaum in the +rack of a popular brewery; he took absinthe before dinner, and +spent his evenings in the laudable effort to ascertain how many mugs +of beer he could “put away.” Gaining in audacity, he danced at +Bullier's, dined at Foyd's, and at last had a mistress. +</P> +<P>So much so, that one afternoon, M. Favoral having to visit on +business the other side of the water, found himself face to face +with his son, who was coming along, a cigar in his mouth, and having +on his arm a young lady, painted in superior style, and harnessed +with a toilet calculated to make the cab-horses rear. +</P> +<P>He returned to the Rue St. Gilles in a state of indescribable rage. +</P> +<P>“A woman!” he exclaimed in a tone of offended modesty. “A woman! +—he, my son!” +</P> +<P>And when that son made his appearance, looking quite sheepish, his +first impulse was to resort to his former mode of correction. +</P> +<P>But Maxence was now over nineteen years of age. +</P> +<P>At the sight of the uplifted cane, he became whiter than his shirt; +and, wrenching it from his father's hands, he broke it across his +knees, threw the pieces violently upon the floor, and sprang out +of the house. +</P> +<P>“He shall never again set his foot here!” screamed the cashier of +the Mutual Credit, thrown beside himself by an act of resistance +which seemed to him unheard of. “I banish him. Let his clothes be +packed up, and taken to some hotel: I never want to see him again.” +</P> +<P>For a long time Mme. Favoral and Gilberte fairly dragged themselves +at his feet, before he consented to recall his determination. +</P> +<P>“He will disgrace us all!” he kept repeating, seeming unable to +understand that it was himself who had, as it were, driven Maxence +on to the fatal road which he was pursuing, forgetting that the +absurd severities of the father prepared the way for the perilous +indulgence of the mother, unwilling to own that the head of a +family has other duties besides providing food and shelter for his +wife and children, and that a father has but little right to +complain who has not known how to make himself the friend and the +adviser of his son. +</P> +<P>At last, after the most violent recriminations, he forgave, in +appearance at least. +</P> +<P>But the scales had dropped from his eyes. He started in quest of +information, and discovered startling enormities. +</P> +<P>He heard from M. Chapelain that Maxence remained whole weeks at a +time without appearing at the office. If he had not complained +before, it was because he had yielded to the urgent entreaties of +Mme. Favoral; and he was now glad, he added, of an opportunity to +relieve his conscience by a full confession. +</P> +<P>Thus the cashier discovered, one by one, all his son's tricks. He +heard that he was almost unknown at the law-school, that he spent +his days in the Cafés, and that, in the evening, when he believed +him in bed and asleep, he was in fact running out to theatres and +to balls. +</P> +<P>“Ah! that's the way, is it?” he thought. “Ah, my wife and children +are in league against me,—me, the master. Very well, we'll see.” +</P> + + +<H2>XI + +</H2><P>From that morning war was declared. +</P> +<P>From that day commenced in the Rue St. Gilles one of those domestic +dramas which are still awaiting their Moliere,—a drama of +distressing vulgarity and sickening realism, but poignant, +nevertheless; for it brought into action tears, blood, and a savage +energy. +</P> +<P>M. Favoral thought himself sure to win; for did he not have the key +of the cash, and is not the key of the cash the most formidable +weapon in an age where every thing begins and ends with money? +</P> +<P>Nevertheless, he was filled with irritating anxieties. +</P> +<P>He who had just discovered so many things which he did not even +suspect a few days before, he could not discover the source whence +his son drew the money which flowed like water from his prodigal +hands. +</P> +<P>He had made sure that Maxence had no debts; and yet it could not be +with M. Chapelain's monthly twenty francs that he fed his frolics. +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral and Gilberte, subjected separately to a skillful +interrogatory, had managed to keep inviolate the secret of their +mercenary labor. The servant, shrewdly questioned, had said nothing +that could in any way cause the truth to be suspected. +</P> +<P>Here was, then, a mystery; and M. Favoral's constant anxiety could +be read upon his knitted brows during his brief visits to the house; +that is, during dinner. +</P> +<P>From the manner in which he tasted his soup, it was easy to see that +he was asking himself whether that was real soup, and whether he was +not being imposed upon. From the expression of his eyes, it was +easy to guess this question constantly present to his mind. +</P> +<P>“They are robbing me evidently; but how do they do it?” +</P> +<P>And he became distrustful, fussy, and suspicious, to an extent that +he had never been before. It was with the most insulting precautions +that he examined every Sunday his wife's accounts. He took a look at +the grocer's, and settled it himself every month: he had the butcher's +bills sent to him in duplicate. He would inquire the price of an +apple as he peeled it over his plate, and never failed to stop at the +fruiterer's and ascertain that he had not been deceived. +</P> +<P>But it was all in vain. +</P> +<P>And yet he knew that Maxence always had in his pocket two or three +five-franc pieces. +</P> +<P>“Where do you steal them?” he asked him one day. +</P> +<P>“I save them out of my salary,” boldly answered the young man. +</P> +<P>Exasperated, M. Favoral wished to make the whole world take an +interest in his investigations. And one Saturday evening, as he +was talking with his friends, M. Chapelain, the worthy Desclavettes, +and old man Desormeaux, pointing to his wife and daughter: +</P> +<P>“Those d---d women rob me,” he said, “for the benefit of my son; +and they do it so cleverly that I can't find out how. They have +an understanding with the shop-keepers, who are but licensed thieves; +and nothing is eaten here that they don't make me pay double its +value.” +</P> +<P>M. Chapelain made an ill-concealed grimace; whilst M. Desclavettes +sincerely admired a man who had courage enough to confess his +meanness. +</P> +<P>But M. Desormeaux never minced things. +</P> +<P>“Do you know, friend Vincent,” he said, “that it requires a strong +stomach to take dinner with a man who spends his time calculating +the cost of every mouthful that his guests swallow?” +</P> +<P>M. Favoral turned red in the face. +</P> +<P>“It is not the expense that I deplore,” he replied, “but the +duplicity. I am rich enough, thank Heaven! not to begrudge a few +francs; and I would gladly give to my wife twice as much as she takes, +if she would only ask it frankly.” +</P> +<P>But that was a lesson. +</P> +<P>Hereafter he was careful to dissimulate, and seemed exclusively +occupied in subjecting his son to a system of his invention, the +excessive rigor of which would have upset a steadier one than he. +</P> +<P>He demanded of him daily written attestations of his attendance both +at the law-school and at the lawyer's office. He marked out the +itinerary of his walks for him, and measured the time they required, +within a few minutes. Immediately after dinner he shut him up in +his room, under lock and key, and never failed, when he came home +at ten o'clock to make sure of his presence. +</P> +<P>He could not have taken steps better calculated to exalt still more +Mme. Favoral's blind tenderness. +</P> +<P>When she heard that Maxence had a mistress, she had been rudely +shocked in her most cherished feelings. It is never without a secret +jealousy that a mother discovers that a woman has robbed her of her +son's heart. She had retained a certain amount of spite against him +on account of disorders, which, in her candor, she had never +suspected. She forgave him every thing when she saw of what +treatment he was the object. +</P> +<P>She took sides with him, believing him to be the victim of a most +unjust persecution. In the evening, after her husband had gone out, +Gilberte and herself would take their sewing, sit in the hall outside +his room, and converse with him through the door. Never had they +worked so hard for the shop-keeper in the Rue St. Denis. Some weeks +they earned as much as twenty-five or thirty francs. +</P> +<P>But Maxence's patience was exhausted; and one morning he declared +resolutely that he would no longer attend the law-school, that he +had been mistaken in his vocation, and that there was no human power +capable to make him return to M. Chapelain's. +</P> +<P>“And where will you go?” exclaimed his father. “Do you expect me +eternally to supply your wants?” +</P> +<P>He answered that it was precisely in order to support himself, and +conquer his independence, that he had resolved to abandon a +profession, which, after two years, yielded him twenty francs a month. +</P> +<P>“I want some business where I have a chance to get rich,” he replied. +“I would like to enter a banking-house, or some great financial +establishment.” +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral jumped at the idea. +</P> +<P>“That's a fact,” she said to her husband. “Why couldn't you find +a place for our son at the Mutual Credit? There he would be under +your own eyes. Intelligent as he is, backed by M. de Thaller and +yourself, he would soon earn a good salary.” +</P> +<P>M. Favoral knit his brows. +</P> +<P>“That I shall never do,” he uttered. “I have not sufficient +confidence in my son. I cannot expose myself to have him compromise +the consideration which I have acquired for myself.” +</P> +<P>And, revealing to a certain extent the secret of his conduct: +</P> +<P>“A cashier,” he added, “who like me handles immense sums cannot be +too careful of his reputation. Confidence is a delicate thing in +these times, when there are so many cashiers constantly on the road +to Belgium. Who knows what would be thought of me, if I was known +to have such a son as mine?” +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral was insisting, nevertheless, when he seemed to make up +his mind suddenly. +</P> +<P>“Enough,” he said. “Maxence is free. I allow him two years to +establish himself in some position. That delay over, good-by: he +can find board and lodging where he please. That's all. I don't +want to hear any thing more about it.” +</P> +<P>It was with a sort of frenzy that Maxence abused that freedom; and +in less than two weeks he had dissipated three months' earnings of +his mother and sister. +</P> +<P>That time over, he succeeded, thanks to M. Chapelain, in finding a +place with an architect. +</P> +<P>This was not a very brilliant opening; and the chances were, that +he might remain a clerk all his life. But the future did not trouble +him much. For the present, he was delighted with this inferior +position, which assured him each month one hundred and seventy-five +francs. +</P> +<P>One hundred and seventy-five francs! A fortune. And so he rushed +into that life of questionable pleasures, where so many wretches have +left not only the money which they had, which is nothing, but the +money which they had not, which leads straight to the police-court. +</P> +<P>He made friends with those shabby fellows who walk up and down in +front of the Café Riche, with an empty stomach, and a tooth-pick +between their teeth. He became a regular customer at those low Cafés +of the Boulevards, where plastered girls smile to the men. He +frequented those suspicious table d'hotes where they play baccarat +after dinner on a wine-stained table-cloth, and where the police make +periodical raids. He ate suppers in those night restaurants where +people throw the bottles at each other's heads after drinking their +contents. +</P> +<P>Often he remained twenty-four hours without coming to the Rue St. +Gilles; and then Mme. Favoral spent the night in the most fearful +anxiety. Then, suddenly, at some hour when he knew his father to be +absent, he would appear, and, taking his mother to one side: +</P> +<P>“I very much want a few louis,” he would say in a sheepish tone. +</P> +<P>She gave them to him; and she kept giving them so long as she had +any, not, however, without observing timidly to him that Gilberte +and herself could not earn very much. +</P> +<P>Until finally one evening, and to a last demand: +</P> +<P>“Alas!” she answered sorrowfully, “I have nothing left, and it is +only on Monday that we are to take our work back. Couldn't you +wait until then?” +</P> +<P>He could not wait: he was expected for a game. Blind devotion begets +ferocious egotism. He wanted his mother to go out and borrow the +money from the grocer or the butcher. She was hesitating. He spoke +louder. +</P> +<P>Then Mlle. Gilberte appeared. +</P> +<P>“Have you, then, really no heart?” she said. “It seems to me, that, +if I were a man, I would not ask my mother and sister to work for me.” +</P> + + +<H2>XII + +</H2><P>Gilberte Favoral had just completed her eighteenth year. Rather +tall, slender, her every motion betrayed the admirable proportions +of her figure, and had that grace which results from the harmonious +blending of litheness and strength. She did not strike at first +sight; but soon a penetrating and indefinable charm arose from her +whole person; and one knew not which to admire most,—the exquisite +perfections of her figure, the divine roundness of her neck, her +aerial carriage, or the placid ingenuousness of her attitudes. She +could not be called beautiful, inasmuch as her features lacked +regularity; but the extreme mobility of her countenance, upon which +could be read all the emotions of her soul, had an irresistible +seduction. Her large eyes, of velvety blue, had untold depths and +an incredible intensity of expression; the imperceptible quiver of +her rosy nostrils revealed an untamable pride; and the smile that +played upon her lips told her immense contempt for every thing mean +and small. But her real beauty was her hair,—of a blonde so +luminous that it seemed powdered with diamond-dust; so thick and +so long, that to be able to twist and confine it, she had to cut off +heavy locks of it to the very root. +</P> +<P>Alone, in the house, she did not tremble at her father's voice. The +studied despotism which had subdued Mme. Favoral had revolted her, +and her energy had become tempered under the same system of +oppression which had unnerved Maxence. +</P> +<P>Whilst her mother and her brother lied with that quiet impudence of +the slave, whose sole weapon is duplicity, Gilberte preserved a +sullen silence. And if complicity was imposed upon her by +circumstances, if she had to maintain a falsehood, each word cost +her such a painful effort, that her features became visibly altered. +</P> +<P>Never, when her own interests were alone at stake, had she stooped +to an untruth. Fearlessly, and whatever might be the result, +</P> +<P>“That is the fact,” she would say. +</P> +<P>Accordingly, M. Favoral could not help respecting her to a degree; +and, when he was in fine humor, he called her the Empress Gilberte. +For her alone he had some deference and some attentions. He +moderated, when she looked at him, the brutality of his language. +He brought her a few flowers every Saturday. +</P> +<P>He had even allowed her a professor of music; though he was wont to +declare that a woman needs but two accomplishments,—to cook and +to sew. But she had insisted so much, that he had at last +discovered for her, in an attic of the Rue du Pas-de-la-Mule, an +old Italian master, the Signor Gismondo Pulei, a sort of unknown +genius, for whom thirty francs a month were a fortune, and who +conceived a sort of religious fanaticism for his pupil. +</P> +<P>Though he had always refused to write a note, he consented, for her +sake, to fix the melodies that buzzed in his cracked brain; and some +of them proved to be admirable. He dreamed to compose for her an +opera that would transmit to the most remote generations the name +of Gismondo Pulei. +</P> +<P>“The Signora Gilberte is the very goddess of music,” he said to M. +Favoral, with transports of enthusiasm, which intensified still his +frightful accent. +</P> +<P>The cashier of the Mutual Credit Society shrugged his shoulders, +answering that there is no harmony for a man who spends his days +listening to the exciting music of golden coins. In spite of which +his vanity seemed highly gratified, when on Saturday evenings, after +dinner, Mlle. Gilberte sat at the piano, and Mme. Desclavettes, +suppressing a yawn, would exclaim, +</P> +<P>“What remarkable talent the dear child has!” +</P> +<P>The young girl had, then, a positive influence; and it was to her +entreaties alone, and not to those of his wife, that he had several +times forgiven Maxence. He would have done much more for her, had +she wished it; but she would have been compelled to ask, to insist, +to beg. +</P> +<P>“And it's humiliating,” she used to say. +</P> +<P>Sometimes Mme. Favoral scolded her gently, saying that her father +would certainly not refuse her one of those pretty toilets which are +the ambition and the joy of young girls. +</P> +<P>But she: +</P> +<P>“It is much less mortification to me to wear these rags than to meet +with a refusal,” she replied. “I am satisfied with my dresses.” +</P> +<P>With such a character, surrounded, however, by a meek resignation, +and an unalterable <I>sang-froid</I>, she inspired a certain respect to +both her mother and her brother, who admired in her an energy of +which they felt themselves incapable. +</P> +<P>And when she appeared, and commenced reproaching him in an indignant +tone of voice, with the baseness of his conduct, and his insatiate +demands, Maxence was almost stunned. +</P> +<P>“I did not know,” he commenced, turning as red as fire. +</P> +<P>She crushed him with a look of mingled contempt and pity; and, in +an accent of haughty irony: +</P> +<P>“Indeed,” she said, “you do not know whence the money comes that +you extort from our mother!” +</P> +<P>And holding up her hand, still remarkably handsome, though slightly +deformed by the constant handling of the needle; the fourth finger +of the right hand bent by the thread, and the fore-finger of the +left tattooed and lacerated by the needle: +</P> +<P>“Indeed,” she repeated, “you do not know that my mother and myself, +we spend all our days, and the greater part of our nights, working?” +</P> +<P>Hanging his head, he said nothing. +</P> +<P>“If it were for myself alone,” she continued, “I would not speak to +you thus. But look at our mother! See her poor eyes, red and weak +from her ceaseless labor! If I have said nothing until now, it is +because I did not as yet despair of your heart; because I hoped that +you would recover some feeling of decency. But no, nothing. With +time, your last scruples seem to have vanished. Once you begged +humbly; now you demand rudely. How soon will you resort to blows?” +</P> +<P>“Gilberte!” stammered the poor fellow, “Gilberte!” +</P> +<P>She interrupted him: +</P> +<P>“Money!” she went on, “always, and without time, you must have money; +no matter whence it comes, nor what it costs. If, at least, you +had to justify your expenses, the excuse of some great passion, or +of some object, were it absurd, ardently pursued! But I defy you +to confess upon what degrading pleasures you lavish our humble +economies. I defy you to tell us what you mean to do with the sum +that you demand to-night,—that sum for which you would have our +mother stoop to beg the assistance of a shop-keeper, to whom we +would be compelled to reveal the secret of our shame.” +</P> +<P>Touched by the frightful humiliation of her son: +</P> +<P>“He is so unhappy!” stammered Mme. Favoral. +</P> +<P>“He unhappy!” she exclaimed. “What, then, shall +we say of us? and, above all, what shall you say of yourself, mother? +Unhappy!—he, a man, who has liberty and strength, who may undertake +every thing, attempt any thing, dare any thing. Ah, I wish I were +a man! I! I would be a man as there are some, as I know some; and +I would have avenged you, O beloved mother! long, long ago, from +father; and I would have begun to repay you all the good you have +done me.” +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral was sobbing. +</P> +<P>“I beg of you,” she murmured, “spare him.” +</P> +<P>“Be it so,” said the young girl. “But you must allow me to tell him +that it is not for his sake that I devote my youth to a mercenary +labor. It is for you, adored mother, that you may have the joy to +give him what he asks, since it is your only joy.” +</P> +<P>Maxence shuddered under the breath of that superb indignation. That +frightful humiliation, he felt that he deserved it only too much. +He understood the justice of these cruel reproaches. And, as his +heart had not yet spoiled with the contact of his boon companions, +as he was weak, rather than wicked, as the sentiments which are the +honor and pride of a man were not dead within him. +</P> +<P>“Ah! you are a brave sister, Gilberte,” he exclaimed; “and what you +have just done is well. You have been harsh, but not as much as I +deserve. Thanks for your courage, which will give me back mine. +Yes, it is a shame for me to have thus cowardly abused you both.” +</P> +<P>And, raising his mother's hand to his lips: +“Forgive, mother,” he continued, his eyes overflowing with tears; +“forgive him who swears to you to redeem his past, and to become +your support, instead of being a crushing burden—” +</P> +<P>He was interrupted by the noise of steps on the stairs, and the +shrill sound of a whistle. +</P> +<P>“My husband!” exclaimed Mme. Favoral,—“your father, my children!” +</P> +<P>“Well,” said Mlle. Gilberte coldly. +</P> +<P>“Don't you hear that he is whistling? and do you forget that it is +a proof that he is furious? What new trial threatens us again?” +</P> + + +<H2>XIII + +</H2><P>Mme. Favoral spoke from experience. She had learned, to her cost, +that the whistle of her husband, more surely than the shriek of the +stormy petrel, announces the storm.—And she had that evening more +reasons than usual to fear. Breaking from all his habits, M. Favoral +had not come home to dinner, and had sent one of the clerks of the +Mutual Credit Society to say that they should not wait for him. +</P> +<P>Soon his latch-key grated in the lock; the door swung open; he came +in; and, seeing his son: +</P> +<P>“Well, I am glad to find you here,” he exclaimed with a giggle, which +with him was the utmost expression of anger. +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral shuddered. Still under the impression of the scene +which had just taken place, his heart heavy, and his eyes full of +tears, Maxence did not answer. +</P> +<P>“It is doubtless a wager,” resumed the father, “and you wish to know +how far my patience may go.” +</P> +<P>“I do not understand you,” stammered the young man. +</P> +<P>“The money that you used to get, I know not where, doubtless fails +you now, or at least is no longer sufficient, and you go on making +debts right and left—at the tailor's, the shirt maker's, the +jeweler's. Of course, it's simple enough. We earn nothing; but +we wish to dress in the latest style, to wear a gold chain across +our vest, and then we make dupes.” +</P> +<P>“I have never made any dupes, father.” +</P> +<P>“Bah! And what, then, do you call all these people who came this +very day to present me their bills? For they did dare to come to +my office! They had agreed to come together, expecting thus to +intimidate me more easily. I told them that you were of age, and +that your business was none of mine. Hearing this, they became +insolent, and commenced speaking so loud, that their voices could +be heard in the adjoining rooms. At that very moment, the manager, +M. de Thaller, happened to be passing through the hall. Hearing +the noise of a discussion, he thought that I was having some +difficulty with some of our stockholders, and he came in, as he +had a right to. Then I was compelled to confess everything.” +</P> +<P>He became excited at the sound of his words, like a horse at the +jingle of his bells. And, more and more beside himself: +</P> +<P>“That is just what your creditors wished,” he pursued. “They +thought I would be afraid of a row, and that I would ‘come down.’ +It is a system of blackmailing, like any other. An account is +opened to some young rascal; and, when the amount is reasonably +large, they take it to the family, saying, ‘Money, or I make row.’ +Do you think it is to you, who are penniless, that they give credit? +It's on my pocket that they were drawing,—on my pocket, because +they believed me rich. They sold you at exorbitant prices every +thing they wished; and they relied on me to pay for trousers at +ninety francs, shirts at forty francs, and watches at six hundred +francs.” +</P> +<P>Contrary to his habit, Maxence did not offer any denial. +</P> +<P>“I expect to pay all I owe,” he said. +</P> +<P>“You!” +</P> +<P>“I give my word I will!” +</P> +<P>“And with what, pray?” +</P> +<P>“With my salary.” +</P> +<P>“You have a salary, then?” +</P> +<P>Maxence blushed. +</P> +<P>“I have what I earn at my employer's.” +</P> +<P>“What employer?” +</P> +<P>“The architect in whose office M. Chapelain helped me to find a +place.” +</P> +<P>With a threatening gesture, M. Favoral interrupted him. +</P> +<P>“Spare me your lies,” he uttered. “I am better posted than you +suppose. I know, that, over a month ago, your employer, tired of +your idleness, dismissed you in disgrace.” +</P> +<P>Disgrace was superfluous. The fact was, that Maxence, returning +to work after an absence of five days, had found another in his +place. +</P> +<P>“I shall find another place,” he said. +</P> +<P>M. Favoral shrugged his shoulders with a movement of rage. +</P> +<P>“And in the mean time,” he said, “I shall have to pay. Do you know +what your creditors threaten to do?—to commence a suit against me. +They would lose it, of course, they know it; but they hope that I +would yield before a scandal. And this is not all: they talk of +entering a criminal complaint. They pretend that you have +audaciously swindled them; that the articles you purchased of them +were not at all for your own use, but that you sold them as fast as +you got them, at any price you could obtain, to raise ready money. +The jeweler has proofs, he says, that you went straight from his +shop to the pawnbroker's, and pledged a watch and chain which he +had just sold you. It is a police matter. They said all that in +presence of my superior officer—in presence of M. de Thaller. I +had to get the janitor to put them out. But, after they had left, +M. de Thaller gave me to understand that he wished me very much to +settle everything. And he is right. My consideration could not +resist another such scene. What confidence can be placed in a +cashier whose son behaves in this manner? How can a key of a safe +containing millions be left with a man whose son would have been +dragged into the police-courts? In a word, I am at your mercy. +In a word, my honor, my position, my fortune, rest upon you. As +often as it may please you to make debts, you can make them, and +I shall be compelled to pay.” +</P> +<P>Gathering all his courage: +</P> +<P>“You have been sometimes very harsh with me, father,” commenced +Maxence; “and yet I will not try to justify my conduct. I swear to +you, that hereafter you shall have nothing to fear from me.” +</P> +<P>“I fear nothing,” uttered M. Favoral with a sinister smile. “I +know the means of placing myself beyond the reach of your follies +—and I shall use them.” +</P> +<P>“I assure you, father, that I have taken a firm resolution.” +</P> +<P>“Oh! you may dispense with your periodical repentance.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte stepped forward. +</P> +<P>“I'll stand warrant,” she said, “for Maxence's resolutions.” +</P> +<P>Her father did not permit her to proceed. +</P> +<P>“Enough,” he interrupted somewhat harshly. “Mind your own business, +Gilberte! I have to speak to you too.” +</P> +<P>“To me, father?” +</P> +<P>“Yes.” +</P> +<P>He walked up and down three or four times through the parlor, as if +to calm his irritation. Then planting himself straight before his +daughter, his arms folded across his breast: +</P> +<P>“You are eighteen years of age,” he said; “that is to say, it is +time to think of your marriage. An excellent match offers itself.” +</P> +<P>She shuddered, stepped back, and, redder than a peony: +</P> +<P>“A match!” she repeated in a tone of immense surprise. +</P> +<P>“Yes, and which suits me.” +</P> +<P>“But I do not wish to marry, father.” +</P> +<P>“All young girls say the same thing; and, as soon as a pretender +offers himself, they are delighted. Mine is a fellow of twenty-six, +quite good looking, amiable, witty, and who has had the greatest +success in society.” +</P> +<P>“Father, I assure you that I do not wish to leave mother.” +</P> +<P>“Of course not. He is an intelligent, hard-working man, destined, +everybody says, to make an immense fortune. Although he is rich +already, for he holds a controlling interest in a stock-broker's +firm, he works as hard as any poor devil. I would not be surprised +to hear that he makes half a million of francs a year. His wife +will have her carriage, her box at the opera, diamonds, and dresses +as handsome as Mlle. de Thaller's.” +</P> +<P>“Eh! What do I care for such things?” +</P> +<P>“It's understood. I'll present him to you on Saturday.” +</P> +<P>But Mlle. Gilberte was not one of those young girls who allow +themselves, through weakness or timidity, to become engaged, and so +far engaged, that later, they can no longer withdraw. A discussion +being unavoidable, she preferred to have it out at once. +</P> +<P>“A presentation is absolutely useless, father,” she declared +resolutely. +</P> +<P>“Because?” +</P> +<P>“I have told you that I did not wish to marry.” +</P> +<P>“But if it is my will?” +</P> +<P>“I am ready to obey you in every thing except that.” +</P> +<P>“In that as in every thing else,” interrupted the cashier of the +Mutual Credit in a thundering voice. +</P> +<P>And, casting upon his wife and children a glance full of defiance +and threats: +</P> +<P>“In that, as in every thing else,” he repeated, “because I am the +master; and I shall prove it. Yes, I will prove it; for I am tired +to see my family leagued against my authority.” +</P> +<P>And out he went, slamming the door so violently, that the partitions +shook. +</P> +<P>“You are wrong to resist your father thus,” murmured the weak Mme. +Favoral. +</P> +<P>The fact is, that the poor woman could not understand why her +daughter refused the only means at her command to break off with +her miserable existence. +</P> +<P>“Let him present you this young man,” she said. “You might like +him.” +</P> +<P>“I am sure I shall not like him.” +</P> +<P>She said this in such a tone, that the light suddenly flashed upon +Mme. Favoral's mind. +</P> +<P>“Heavens!” she murmured. “Gilberte, my darling child, have you then +a secret which your mother does not know?” +</P> + + +<H2>XIV + +</H2><P>Yes, Mlle. Gilberte had her secret—a very simple one, though, +chaste, like herself, and one of those which, as the old women say, +must cause the angels to rejoice. +</P> +<P>The spring of that year having been unusually mild, Mme. Favoral +and her daughter had taken the habit of going daily to breathe the +fresh air in the Place Royale. They took their work with them, +crotchet or knitting; so that this salutary exercise did not in any +way diminish the earnings of the week. It was during these walks +that Mlle. Gilberte had at last noticed a young man, unknown to her, +whom she met every day at the same place. +</P> +<P>Tall and robust, he had a grand look, notwithstanding his modest +clothes, the exquisite neatness of which betrayed a sort of +respectable poverty. He wore his full beard; and his proud and +intelligent features were lighted up by a pair of large black eyes, +of those eyes whose straight and clear look disconcerts hypocrites +and knaves. +</P> +<P>He never failed, as he passed by Mlle. Gilberte, to look down, or +turn his head slightly away; and in spite of this, in spite of the +expression of respect which she had detected upon his face, she +could not help blushing. +</P> +<P>“Which is absurd,” she thought; “for after all, what on earth do I +care for that young man?” +</P> +<P>The infallible instinct, which is the experience of inexperienced +young girls, told her that it was not chance alone that brought +this stranger in her way. But she wished to make sure of it. She +managed so well, that each day of the following week, the hour of +their walk was changed. Sometimes they went out at noon, sometimes +after four o'clock. +</P> +<P>But, whatever the hour, Mlle. Gilberte, as she turned the corner of +the Rue des Minimes, noticed her unknown admirer under the arcades, +looking in some shop-window, and watching out of the corner of his +eye. As soon as she appeared, he left his post, and hurried fast +enough to meet her at the gate of the Place. +</P> +<P>“It is a persecution,” thought Mlle. Gilberte. +</P> +<P>How, then, had she not spoken of it to her mother? Why had she not +said any thing to her the day, when, happening, to look out of the +window, she saw her “persecutor” passing before the house, or, +evidently looking in her direction? +</P> +<P>“Am I losing my mind?” she thought, seriously irritated against +herself. “I will not think of him any more.” +</P> +<P>And yet she was thinking of him, when one afternoon, as her mother +and herself were working, sitting upon a bench, she saw the stranger +come and sit down not far from them. He was accompanied by an +elderly man with long white mustaches, and wearing the rosette +of the Legion of Honor. +</P> +<P>“This is an insolence,” thought the young girl, whilst seeking a +pretext to ask her mother to change their seats. +</P> +<P>But already had the young man and his elderly friend seated +themselves, and so arranged their chairs, that Mlle. Gilberte could +not miss a word of what they were about to say. It was the young +man who spoke first. +</P> +<P>“You know me as well as I know myself, my dear count,” he commenced +—“you who were my poor father's best friend, you who dandled me +upon your knees when I was a child, and who has never lost sight of +me.” +</P> +<P>“Which is to say, my boy, that I answer for you as for myself,” put +in the old man. “But go on.” +</P> +<P>“I am twenty-six years old. My name is Yves-Marius-Genost de Tregars. +My family, which is one of the oldest of Brittany, is allied to all +the great families.” +</P> +<P>“Perfectly exact,” remarked the old gentleman. +</P> +<P>“Unfortunately, my fortune is not on a par with my nobility. When +my mother died, in 1856, my father, who worshiped her, could no +longer bear, in the intensity of his grief, to remain at the Chateau +de Tregars where he had spent his whole life. He came to Paris, +which he could well afford, since we were rich then, but +unfortunately, made acquaintances who soon inoculated him with the +fever of the age. They proved to him that he was mad to keep lands +which barely yielded him forty thousand francs a year, and which he +could easily sell for two millions; which amount, invested merely +at five per cent, would yield him an income of one hundred thousand +francs. He therefore sold every thing, except our patrimonial +homestead on the road from Quimper to Audierne, and rushed into +speculations. He was rather lucky at first. But he was too honest +and too loyal to be lucky long. An operation in which he became +interested early in 1869 turned out badly. His associates became +rich; but he, I know not how, was ruined, and came near being +compromised. He died of grief a month later.” +</P> +<P>The old soldier was nodding his assent. +</P> +<P>“Very well, my boy,” he said. “But you are too modest; and there's +a circumstance which you neglect. You had a right, when your father +became involved in these troubles, to claim and retain your mother's +fortune; that is, some thirty thousand francs a year. Not only you +did not do so; but you gave up every thing to his creditors. You +sold the domain of Tregars, except the old castle and its park, and +paid over the proceeds to them; so that, if your father did die +ruined, at least he did not owe a cent. And yet you knew, as well +as myself, that your father had been deceived and swindled by a lot +of scoundrels who drive their carriages now, and who, perhaps, if +the courts were applied to, might still be made to disgorge their +ill-gotten plunder.” +</P> +<P>Her head bent upon her tapestry, Mlle. Gilberte seemed to be working +with incomparable zeal. The truth is, she knew not how to conceal +the blushes on her cheeks, and the trembling of her hands. She had +something like a cloud before her eyes; and she drove her needle at +random. She scarcely preserved enough presence of mind to reply to +Mme. Favoral, who, not noticing any thing, spoke to her from time to +time. +</P> +<P>Indeed, the meaning of this scene was too clear to escape her. +</P> +<P>“They have had an understanding,” she thought, “and it is for me +alone that they are speaking.” +</P> +<P>Meantime, Marius de Tregars was going on: +</P> +<P>“I should lie, my old friend, were I to say that I was indifferent +to our ruin. Philosopher though one may be, it is not without some +pangs that one passes from a sumptuous hotel to a gloomy garret. +But what grieved me most of all was that I saw myself compelled +to give up the labors which had been the joy of my life, and upon +which I had founded the most magnificent hopes. A positive vocation, +stimulated further by the accidents of my education, had led me to +the study of physical sciences. For several years, I had applied all +I have of intelligence and energy to certain investigations in +electricity. To convert electricity into an incomparable +motive-power which would supersede steam,—such was the object I +pursued without pause. Already, as you know, although quite young, +I had obtained results which had attracted some attention in the +scientific world. I thought I could see the last of a problem, the +solution of which would change the face of the globe. Ruin was the +death of my hopes, the total loss of the fruits of my labors; for +my experiments were costly, and it required money, much money, to +purchase the products which were indispensable to me, and to +construct the machines which I contrived. +</P> +<P>“And I was about being compelled to earn my daily bread. +</P> +<P>“I was on the verge of despair, when I met a man whom I had formerly +seen at my father's, and who had seemed to take some interest in my +researches, a speculator named Marcolet. But it is not at the bourse +that he operates. Industry is the field of his labors. Ever on the +lookout for those obstinate inventors who are starving to death in +their garrets, he appears to them at the hour of supreme crisis: he +pities them, encourages them, consoles them, helps them, and almost +always succeeds in becoming the owner of their discovery. Sometimes +he makes a mistake; and then all he has to do is to put a few +thousand francs to the debit of profit or loss. But, if he has +judged right, then he counts his profits by hundreds of thousands; +and how many patents does he work thus! Of how many inventions does +he reap the results which are a fortune, and the inventors of +which have no shoes to wear! Every thing is good to him; and he +defends with the same avidity a cough-sirup, the formula of +which he has purchased of some poor devil of a druggist, and an +improvement to the steam-engine, the patent for which has been sold +to him by an engineer of genius. And yet Marcolet is not a bad man. +Seeing my situation, he offered me a certain yearly sum to undertake +some studies of industrial chemistry which he indicated to me. I +accepted; and the very next day I hired a small basement in the Rue +des Tournelles, where I set up my laboratory, and went to work at +once. That was a year ago. Marcolet must be satisfied. I have +already found for him a new shade for dyeing silk, the cost price +of which is almost nothing. As to me, I have lived with the +strictest economy, devoting all my surplus earnings to the +prosecution of the problem, the solution of which would give me +both glory and fortune.” +</P> +<P>Palpitating with inexpressible emotion, Mlle. Gilberte was listening +to this young man, unknown to her a few moments since, and whose +whole history she now knew as well as if she had always lived near +him; for it never occurred to her to suspect his sincerity. +</P> +<P>No voice had ever vibrated to her ear like this voice, whose grave +sonorousness stirred within her strange sensations, and legions of +thoughts which she had never suspected. She was surprised at the +accent of simplicity with which he spoke of the illustriousness of +his family, of his past opulence, of his obscure labors, and of his +exalted hopes. +</P> +<P>She admired the superb disregard for money which beamed forth in his +every word. Here was then one man, at least, who despised that +money before which she had hitherto seen all the people she knew +prostrated in abject worship. +</P> +<P>After a pause of a few moments, Marius de Tregars, still addressing +himself apparently to his aged companion, went on: +</P> +<P>“I repeat it, because it is the truth, my old friend, this life of +labor and privation, so new to me, was not a burden. Calm, silence, +the constant exercise of all the faculties of the intellect, have +charms which the vulgar can never suspect. I was happy to think, +that, if I was ruined, it was through an act of my own will. I found +a positive pleasure in the fact that I, the Marquis de Tregars, who +had had a hundred thousand a year—I must the next moment go out in +person to the baker's and the green-grocer's to purchase my supplies +for the day. I was proud to think that it was to my labor alone, to +the work for which I was paid by Marcolet, that I owed the means of +prosecuting my task. And, from the summits where I was carried on +the wings of science, I took pity on your modern existence, on that +ridiculous and tragical medley of passions, interests, and cravings; +that struggle without truce or mercy, whose law is, woe to the weak, +in which whosoever falls is trampled under feet. +</P> +<P>“Sometimes, however, like a fire that has been smouldering under +the ashes, the flame of youthful passions blazed up within me. I +had hours of madness, of discouragement, of distress, during which +solitude was loathsome to me. But I had the faith which raises +mountains—faith in myself and my work. And soon, tranquilized, I +would go to sleep in the purple of hope, beholding in the vista of +the distant future the triumphal arches erected to my success. +</P> +<P>“Such was my situation, when, one afternoon in the month of February +last, after an experiment upon which I had founded great hopes, and +which had just miserably failed, I came here to breathe a little +fresh air. +</P> +<P>“It was a beautiful spring day, warm and sunny. The sparrows were +chirping on the branches, swelled with sap: bands of children were +running along the alleys, filling the air with their joyous screams. +</P> +<P>“I was sitting upon a bench, ruminating over the causes of my failure, +when two ladies passed by me; one somewhat aged, the other quite +young. They were walking so rapidly, that I hardly had time to +see them. +</P> +<P>“But the young lady's step, the noble simplicity of her carriage, +had struck me so much, that I rose to follow her with the intention +of passing her, and then walking back to have a good view of her +face. I did so; and I was fairly dazzled. At the moment when my +eyes met hers, a voice rose within me, crying that it was all over +now, and that my destiny was fixed.” +</P> +<P>“I remember, my dear boy,” remarked the old soldier in a tone of +friendly raillery; “for you came to see me that night, and I had +not seen you for months before.” +</P> +<P>Marius proceeded without heeding the remark. +</P> +<P>“And yet you know that I am not the man to yield to first impression. +I struggled: with determined energy I strove to drive off that +radiant image which I carried within my soul, which left me no more, +which haunted me in the midst of my studies. +</P> +<P>“Vain efforts. My thoughts obeyed me no longer—my will escaped +my control. It was indeed one of those passions that fill the whole +being, overpower all, and which make of life an ineffable felicity +or a nameless torture, according that they are reciprocated, or not. +How many days I spent there, waiting and watching for her of whom I +had thus had a glimpse, and who ignored my very existence! And what +insane palpitations, when, after hours of consuming anxiety, I saw +at the corner of the street the undulating folds of her dress! I +saw her thus often, and always with the same elderly person, her +mother. They had adopted in this square a particular bench, where +they sat daily, working at their sewing with an assiduity and zeal +which made me think that they lived upon the product of their labor.” +</P> +<P>Here he was suddenly interrupted by his companion. The old gentleman +feared that Mme. Favoral's attention might at last be attracted by +too direct allusions. +</P> +<P>“Take care, boy!” he whispered, not so low, however, but what +Gilberte overheard him. +</P> +<P>But it would have required much more than this to draw Mme. Favoral +from her sad thoughts. She had just finished her band of tapestry; +and, grieving to lose a moment: +</P> +<P>“It is perhaps time to go home,” she said to her daughter. “I have +nothing more to do.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte drew from her basket a piece of canvas, and, handing +it to her mother: +</P> +<P>“Here is enough to go on with, mamma,” she said in a troubled voice. +“Let us stay a little while longer.” +</P> +<P>And, Mme. Favoral having resumed her work, Marius proceeded: +</P> +<P>“The thought that she whom I loved was poor delighted me. Was not +this similarity of positions a link between us? I felt a childish +joy to think that I would work for her and for her mother, and that +they would be indebted to me for their ease and comfort in life. +</P> +<P>“But I am not one of those dreamers who confide their destiny to the +wings of a chimera. Before undertaking any thing, I resolved to +inform myself. Alas! at the first words that I heard, all my fine +dreams took wings. I heard that she was rich, very rich. I was +told that her father was one of those men whose rigid probity +surrounds itself with austere and harsh forms. He owed his fortune, +I was assured, to his sole labor, but also to prodigies of economy +and the most severe privations. He professed a worship, they said, +for that gold that had cost him so much; and he would never give the +hand of his daughter to a man who had no money. This last comment +was useless. Above my actions, my thoughts, my hopes, higher than +all, soars my pride. Instantly I saw an abyss opening between me +and her whom I love more than my life, but less than my dignity. +When a man's name is Genost de Tregars, he must support his wife, +were it by breaking stones. And the thought that I owed my fortune +to the woman I married would make me execrate her. +</P> +<P>“You must remember, my old friend, that I told you all this at the +time. You thought, too, that it was singularly impertinent, on my +part, thus to flare up in advance, because, certainly a millionaire +does not give his daughter to a ruined nobleman in the pay of +Marcolet, the patent-broker, to a poor devil of an inventor, who is +building the castles of his future upon the solution of a problem +which has been given up by the most brilliant minds. +</P> +<P>“It was then that I determined upon an extreme resolution, a +foolish one, no doubt, and yet to which you, the Count de Villegre, +my father's old friend, you have consented to lend yourself. +</P> +<P>“I thought that I would address myself to her, to her alone, and +that she would at least know what great, what immense love she had +inspired. I thought I would go to her and tell her, ‘This is who +I am, and what I am. For mercy's sake, grant me a respite of three +years. To a love such as mine there is nothing impossible. In +three years I shall be dead, or rich enough to ask your hand. From +this day forth, I give up my task for work of more immediate profit. +The arts of industry have treasures for successful inventors. If +you could only read in my soul, you would not refuse me the delay I +am asking. Forgive me! One word, for mercy's sake, only one! It +is my sentence that I am awaiting.’” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte's thoughts were in too great a state of confusion +to permit her to think of being offended at this extraordinary +proceeding. She rose, quivering, and addressing herself to Mme. +Favoral: +</P> +<P>“Come, mother,” she said, “come: I feel that I have taken cold. +I must go home and think. To-morrow, yes, to-morrow, we will come +again.” +</P> +<P>Deep as Mme. Favoral was plunged in her meditations, and a thousand +miles as she was from the actual situation, it was impossible that +she should not notice the intense excitement under which her daughter +labored, the alteration of her features, and the incoherence of her +words. +</P> +<P>“What is the matter?” she asked, somewhat alarmed. “What are you +saying?” +</P> +<P>“I feel unwell,” answered her daughter in a scarcely audible voice, +“quite unwell. Come, let us go home.” +</P> +<P>As soon as they reached home, Mlle. Gilberte took refuge in her own +room. She was in haste to be alone, to recover her self-possession, +to collect her thoughts, more scattered than dry leaves by a storm +wind. +</P> +<P>It was a momentous event which had just suddenly fallen in her life +so monotonous and so calm—an inconceivable, startling event, the +consequences of which were to weigh heavily upon her entire future. +</P> +<P>Staggering still, she was asking herself if she was not the victim +of an hallucination, and if really there was a man who had dared to +conceive and execute the audacious project of coming thus under the +eyes of her mother, of declaring his love, and of asking her in +return a solemn engagement. But what stupefied her more still, what +confused her, was that she had actually endured such an attempt. +</P> +<P>Under what despotic influence had she, then, fallen? To what +undefinable sentiments had she obeyed? And if she had only +tolerated! But she had done more: she had actually encouraged. +By detaining her mother when she wished to go home (and she had +detained her), had she not said to this unknown?—“Go on, I allow +it: I am listening.” +</P> +<P>And he had gone on. And she, at the moment of returning home, she +had engaged herself formally to reflect, and to return the next day +at a stated hour to give an answer. In a word, she had made an +appointment with him. +</P> +<P>It was enough to make her die of shame. And, as if she had needed +the sound of her own words to convince herself of the reality of the +fact, she kept repeating loud, +</P> +<P>“I have made an appointment—I, Gilberte, with a man whom my parents +do not know, and of whose name I was still ignorant yesterday.” +</P> +<P>And yet she could not take upon herself to be indignant at the +imprudent boldness of her conduct. The bitterness of the reproaches +which she was addressing to herself was not sincere. She felt it so +well, that at last: +</P> +<P>“Such hypocrisy is unworthy of me,” she exclaimed, “since now, +still, and without the excuse of being taken by surprise, I would +not act otherwise.” +</P> +<P>The fact is, the more she pondered, the less she could succeed in +discovering even the shadow of any offensive intention in all that +Marius de Tregars had said. By the choice of his confidant, an old +man, a friend of his family, a man of the highest respectability, +he had done all in his power to make his step excusable. It was +impossible to doubt his sincerity, to suspect the fairness of +his intentions. +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte, better than almost any other young girl, could +understand the extreme measure resorted to by M. de Tregars. By her +own pride she could understand his. No more than he, in his place, +would she have been willing to expose herself to a certain refusal. +What was there, then, so extraordinary in the fact of his coming +directly to her, in his exposing to her frankly and loyally his +situation, his projects, and his hopes? +</P> +<P>“Good heavens!” she thought, horrified at the sentiments which she +discovered in the deep recesses of her soul, “good heavens! I +hardly know myself any more. Here I am actually approving what he +has done!” +</P> +<P>Well, yes, she did approve him, attracted, fascinated, by the very +strangeness of the situation. Nothing seemed to her more admirable +than the conduct of Marius de Tregars sacrificing his fortune and +his most legitimate aspirations to the honor of his name, and +condemning himself to work for his living. +</P> +<P>“That one,” she thought, “is a man; and his wife will have just +cause to be proud of him.” +</P> +<P>Involuntarily she compared him to the only men she knew: to M. +Favoral, whose miserly parsimony had made his whole family wretched; +to Maxence, who did not blush to feed his disorders with the fruits +of his mother's and his sister's labor. +</P> +<P>How different was Marius! If he was poor, it was of his own will. +Had she not seen what confidence he had in himself. She shared it +fully. She felt certain that, within the required delay, he would +conquer that indispensable fortune. Then he might present himself +boldly. He would take her, away from the miserable surroundings +among which she seemed fated to live: she would become the +Marchioness de Tregars. +</P> +<P>“Why, then, not answer, Yes!” thought she, with the harrowing +emotions of the gambler who is about to stake his all upon one card. +And what a game for Mlle. Gilberte, and what a stake! +</P> +<P>Suppose she had been mistaken. Suppose that Marius should be one +of those villains who make of seduction a science. Would she still +be her own mistress, after answering? Did she know to what hazards +such an engagement would expose her? Was she not about rushing +blindfolded towards those deceiving perils where a young girl +leaves her reputation, even when she saves her honor? +</P> +<P>She thought, for a moment, of consulting her mother. But she knew +Mme. Favoral's shrinking timidity, and that she was as incapable +of giving any advice as to make her will prevail. She would be +frightened; she would approve all; and, at the first alarm, she +would confess all. +</P> +<P>“Am I, then, so weak and so foolish,” she thought, “that I cannot +take a determination which affects me personally?” +</P> +<P>She could not close her eyes all night; but in the morning her +resolution was settled. +</P> +<P>And toward one o'clock: +</P> +<P>“Are we not going out mother?” she said. +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral was hesitating. +</P> +<P>“These early spring days are treacherous,” she objected: “you +caught cold yesterday.” +</P> +<P>“My dress was too thin. To-day I have taken my precautions.” +</P> +<P>They started, taking their work with them, and came to occupy their +accustomed seats. +</P> +<P>Before they had even passed the gates, Mlle. Gilberte had recognized +Marius de Tregars and the Count de Villegre, walking in one of the +side alleys. Soon, as on the day before, they took two chairs, and +settled themselves within hearing. +</P> +<P>Never had the young girl's heart beat with such violence. It is +easy enough to take a resolution; but it is not always quite so easy +to execute it, and she was asking herself if she would have strength +enough to articulate a word. At last, gathering her whole courage: +</P> +<P>“You don't believe in dreams, do you mother?” she asked. +</P> +<P>Upon this subject, as well as upon many others, Mme. Favoral had no +particular opinion. +</P> +<P>“Why do you ask the question?” said she. +</P> +<P>“Because I have had such a strange one.” +</P> +<P>“Oh!” +</P> +<P>“It seemed to me that suddenly a young man, whom I did not know, +stood before me. He would have been most happy, said he to me, to +ask my hand, but he dared not, being very poor. And he begged me +to wait three years, during which he would make his fortune.” +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral smiled. +</P> +<P>“Why it's quite a romance,” said she. +</P> +<P>“But it wasn't a romance in my dream,” interrupted Mlle. Gilberte. +“This young man spoke in a tone of such profound conviction, that +it was impossible for me, as it were, to doubt him. I thought to +myself that he would be incapable of such an odious villainy as to +abuse the confiding credulity of a poor girl.” +</P> +<P>“And what did you answer him?” +</P> +<P>Moving her seat almost imperceptibly, Mlle. Gilberte could, from +the corner of her eye, have a glimpse of M. de Tregars. Evidently +he was not missing a single one of the words which she was addressing +to her mother. He was whiter than a sheet; and his face betrayed the +most intense anxiety. +</P> +<P>This gave her the energy to curb the last revolts of her conscience. +</P> +<P>“To answer was painful,” she uttered; “and yet I—dared to answer +him. I said to him, ‘I believe you, and I have faith in you. +Loyally and faithfully I shall await your success; but until then +we must be strangers to one another. To resort to ruse, deceit, +and falsehood would be unworthy of us. You surely would not expose +to a suspicion her who is to be your wife.’” +</P> +<P>“Very well,” approved Mme. Favoral; “only I did not know you were +so romantic.” +</P> +<P>She was laughing, the good lady, but not loud enough to prevent +Gilberte from hearing M. de Tregars' answer. +</P> +<P>“Count de Villegre,” said he, “my old friend, receive the oath which +I take to devote my life to her who has not doubted me. It is to-day +the 4th of May, 1870—on the 4th of May, 1873, I shall have +succeeded: I feel it, I will it, it must be!” +</P> + + +<H2>XV + +</H2><P>It was done: Gilberte Favoral had just irrevocably disposed of +herself. Prosperous or wretched, her destiny henceforth was linked +with another. She had set the wheel in motion; and she could no +longer hope to control its direction, any more than the will can +pretend to alter the course of the ivory ball upon the surface of +the roulette-table. At the outset of this great storm of passion +which had suddenly surrounded her, she felt an immense surprise, +mingled with unexplained apprehensions and vague terrors. +</P> +<P>Around her, apparently, nothing was changed. Father, mother, +brother, friends, gravitated mechanically in their accustomed orbits. +The same daily facts repeated themselves monotonous and regular as +the tick-tack of the clock. +</P> +<P>And yet an event had occurred more prodigious for her than the moving +of a mountain. +</P> +<P>Often during the weeks that followed, she would repeat to herself, +“Is it true, is it possible even?” +</P> +<P>Or else she would run to a mirror to make sure once more that nothing +upon her face or in her eyes betrayed the secret that palpitated +within her. +</P> +<P>The singularity of the situation was, moreover, well calculated to +trouble and confound her mind. +</P> +<P>Mastered by circumstances, she had in utter disregard of all accepted +ideas, and of the commonest propriety, listened to the passionate +promises of a stranger, and pledged her life to him. And, the pact +concluded and solemnly sworn, they had parted without knowing when +propitious circumstances might bring them together again. +</P> +<P>“Certainly,” thought she, “before God, M. de Tregars is my betrothed +husband; and yet we have never exchanged a word. Were we to meet in +society, we should be compelled to meet as strangers: if he passes by +me in the street, he has no right to bow to me. I know not where he +is, what becomes of him, nor what he is doing.” +</P> +<P>And in fact she had not seen him again: he had given no sign of life, +so faithfully did he conform to her expressed wish. And perhaps +secretly, and without acknowledging it to herself, had she wished him +less scrupulous. Perhaps she would not have been very angry to see +him sometimes gliding along at her passage under the old Arcades of +the Rue des Vosges. +</P> +<P>But, whilst suffering from this separation, she conceived for the +character of Marius the highest esteem; for she felt sure that he +must suffer as much and more than she from the restraint which he +imposed upon himself. +</P> +<P>Thus he was ever present to her thoughts. She never tired of +turning over in her mind all he had said of his past life: she +tried to remember his words, and the very tone of his voice. +</P> +<P>And by living constantly thus with the memory of Marius de Tregars, +she made herself familiar with him, deceived to that extent, by +the illusion of absence, that she actually persuaded herself that +she knew him better and better every day. +</P> +<P>Already nearly a month had elapsed, when one afternoon, as she +arrived on the Place Royal; she recognized him, standing near that +same bench where they had so strangely exchanged their pledges. +</P> +<P>He saw her coming too: she knew it by his looks. But, when she +had arrived within a few steps of him, he walked off rapidly, +leaving on the bench a folded newspaper. +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral wished to call him back and return it; but Mlle. +Gilberte persuaded her not to. +</P> +<P>“Never mind, mother,” said she, “it isn't worth while; and, besides, +the gentleman is too far now.” +</P> +<P>But while getting out her embroidery, with that dexterity which never +fails even the most naive girls, she slipped the newspaper in her +work-basket. +</P> +<P>Was she not certain that it had been left there for her? +</P> +<P>As soon as she had returned home, she locked herself up in her own +room, and, after searching for some time through the columns, she +read at last: +</P> +<P>“One of the richest and most intelligent manufacturers in Paris, +M. Marcolet, has just purchased in Grenelle the vast grounds +belonging to the Lacoche estate. He proposes to build upon them +a manufacture of chemical products, the management of which is to +be placed in the hands of M. de T—. +</P> +<P>“Although still quite young, M. de T— is already well known in +connection with his remarkable studies on electricity. He was, +perhaps, on the eve of solving the much controverted problem of +electricity as a motive-power, when his father's ruin compelled him +to suspend his labors. He now seeks to earn by his personal industry +the means of prosecuting his costly experiments. +</P> +<P>“He is not the first to tread this path. Is it not to the invention +of the machine bearing his name, that the engineer Giffard owes the +fortune which enables him to continue to seek the means of steering +balloons? Why should not M. de T—, who has as much skill and energy, +have as much luck?” +</P> +<P>“Ah! he does not forget me,” thought Mlle. Gilberte, moved to tears +by this article, which, after all, was but a mere puff, written by +Marcolet himself, without the knowledge of M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>She was still under that impression, thinking that Marius was already +at work, when her father announced to her that he had discovered a +husband, and enjoined her to find him to her liking, as he, the +master, thought it proper that she should. +</P> +<P>Hence the energy of her refusal. +</P> +<P>But hence also, the imprudent vivacity which had enlightened Mme. +Favoral, and which made her say: +</P> +<P>“You hide something from me, Gilberte?” +</P> +<P>Never had the young girl been so cruelly embarrassed as she was at +this moment by this sudden and unforeseen perspicacity. +</P> +<P>Would she confide to her mother? +</P> +<P>She felt, indeed, no repugnance to do so, certain as she was, in +advance, of the inexhaustible indulgence of the poor woman; and, +besides, she would have been delighted to have some one at last +with whom she could speak of Marius. +</P> +<P>But she knew that her father was not the man to give up a project +conceived by himself. She knew that he would return to the charge +obstinately, without peace, and without truce. Now, as she was +determined to resist with a no less implacable obstinacy, she +foresaw terrible struggles, all sorts of violence and persecutions. +</P> +<P>Informed of the truth, would Mme. Favoral have strength enough to +resist these daily storms? Would not a time come, when, called upon +by her husband to explain the refusals of her daughter, threatened, +terrified, she would confess all? +</P> +<P>At one glance Mlle. Gilberte estimated the danger; and, drawing from +necessity an audacity which was very foreign to her nature: +</P> +<P>“You are mistaken, dear mother,” said she, “I have concealed nothing +from you.” +</P> +<P>Not quite convinced, Mme. Favoral shook her head. +</P> +<P>“Then,” said she, “you will yield.” +</P> +<P>“Never!” +</P> +<P>“Then there must be some reason you do not tell me.” +</P> +<P>“None, except that I do not wish to leave you. Have you ever +thought what would be your existence if I were no longer here? Have +you ever asked yourself what would become of you, between my father, +whose despotism will grow heavier with age, and my brother?” +</P> +<P>Always prompt to defend her son: +</P> +<P>“Maxence is not bad,” she interrupted: “he will know how to +compensate me for the sorrows he has inflicted upon me.” +</P> +<P>The young girl made a gesture of doubt: +</P> +<P>“I wish it, dear mother,” said she, “with all my heart; but I dare +not hope for it. His repentance to-night was great and sincere; but +will he remember it to-morrow? Besides, don't you know that father +has fully resolved to separate himself from Maxence? Think of +yourself alone here with father.” +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral shuddered at the mere idea. +</P> +<P>“I would not suffer very long,” she murmured. Mlle. Gilberte +kissed her. +</P> +<P>“It is because I wish you to live to be happy that I refuse to +marry,” she exclaimed. “Must you not have your share of happiness +in this world? Let me manage. Who knows what compensations the +future may have in store for you? Besides, this person whom father +has selected for me does not suit me. A stock-jobber, who would +think of nothing but money,—who would examine my house-accounts +as papa does yours, or else who would load me with cashmeres and +diamonds, like Mme. de Thaller, to make of me a sign for his shop? +No, no! I want no such man. So, mother dear, be brave, take sides +boldly with your daughter, and we shall soon be rid of this would-be +husband.” +</P> +<P>“Your father will bring him to you: he said he would.” +</P> +<P>“Well, he is a man of courage, if he returns three times.” +</P> +<P>At this moment the parlor-door opened suddenly. +</P> +<P>“What are you plotting here again?” cried the irritated voice of +the master. “And you, Mme. Favoral, why don't you go to bed?” +</P> +<P>The poor slave obeyed, without saying a word. And, whilst making +her way to her room: +</P> +<P>“There is trouble ahead,” thought Mlle. Gilberte. “But bash! If I +do have to suffer some, it won't be great harm, after all. Surely +Marius does not complain, though he gives up for me his dearest +hopes, becomes the salaried employe of M. Marcolet, and thinks of +nothing but making money,—he so proud and so disinterested!” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte's anticipations were but too soon realized. When M. +Favoral made his appearance the next morning, he had the sombre brow +and contracted lips of a man who has spent the night ruminating a +plan from which he does not mean to swerve. +</P> +<P>Instead of going to his office, as usual, without saying a word to +any one, he called his wife and children to the parlor; and, after +having carefully bolted all the doors, he turned to Maxence. +</P> +<P>“I want you,” he commenced, “to give me a list of your creditors. +See that you forget none; and let it be ready as soon as possible.” +</P> +<P>But Maxence was no longer the same man. After the terrible and +well-deserved reproaches of his sister, a salutary revolution had +taken place in him. During the preceding night, he had reflected +over his conduct for the past four years; and he had been dismayed +and terrified. His impression was like that of the drunkard, who, +having become sober, remembers the ridiculous or degrading acts +which he has committed under the influence of alcohol, and, confused +and humiliated, swears never more to drink. +</P> +<P>Thus Maxence had sworn to himself to change his mode of life, +promising that it would be no drunkard's oath, either. And his +attitude and his looks showed the pride of great resolutions. +</P> +<P>Instead of lowering his eyes before the irritated glance of M. +Favoral, and stammering excuses and vague promises: +</P> +<P>“It is useless, father,” he replied, “to give you the list you ask +for. I am old enough to bear the responsibility of my acts. I +shall repair my follies: what I owe, I shall pay. This very day I +shall see my creditors, and make arrangements with them.” +</P> +<P>“Very well, Maxence,” exclaimed Mme. Favoral, delighted. +</P> +<P>But there was no pacifying the cashier of the Mutual Credit. +</P> +<P>“Those are fine-sounding words,” he said with a sneer; “but I doubt +if the tailors and the shirt-makers will take them in payment. +That's why I want that list.” +</P> +<P>“Still—” +</P> +<P>“It's I who shall pay. I do not mean to have another such scene +as that of yesterday in my office. It must not be said that my +son is a sharper and a cheat at the very moment when I find for my +daughter a most unhoped-for match.” +</P> +<P>And, turning to Mlle. Gilberte: +</P> +<P>“For I suppose you have got over your foolish ideas,” he uttered. +</P> +<P>The young girl shook her head. +</P> +<P>“My ideas are the same as they were last night.” +</P> +<P>“Ah, ah!” +</P> +<P>“And so, father, I beg of you, do not insist. Why wrangle and +quarrel? You must know me well enough to know, that, whatever may +happen, I shall never yield.” +</P> +<P>Indeed, M. Favoral was well aware of his daughter's firmness; for +he had already been compelled on several occasions, as he expressed +it himself, “to strike his flag” before her. But he could not +believe that she would resist when he took certain means of +enforcing his will. +</P> +<P>“I have pledged my word,” he said. +</P> +<P>“But I have not pledged mine, father.” +</P> +<P>He was becoming excited: his cheeks were flushed; and his little +eyes sparkled. +</P> +<P>“And suppose I were to tell you,” he resumed, doing at least to his +daughter the honor of controlling his anger: “suppose I were to +tell you that I would derive from this marriage immense, positive, +and immediate advantages?” +</P> +<P>“Oh!” she interrupted with a look of disgust, “oh, for mercy's sake!” +</P> +<P>“Suppose I were to tell you that I have a powerful interest in it; +that it is indispensable to the success of vast combinations?” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte looked straight at him. +</P> +<P>“I would answer you,” she exclaimed, “that it does not suit me to +be made use of as an earnest to your combinations. Ah! it's an +operation, is it? an enterprise, a big speculation? and you throw +in your daughter in the bargain as a bonus. Well, no! You can +tell your partner that the thing has fallen through.” +</P> +<P>M. Favoral's anger was growing with each word. +</P> +<P>“I'll see if I can't make you yield,” he said. +</P> +<P>“You may crush me, perhaps. Make me yield, never!” +</P> +<P>“Well, we shall see. You will see—Maxence and you—whether there +are no means by which a father can compel his rebellious children to +submit to his authority.” +</P> +<P>And, feeling that he was no longer master of himself, he left, +swearing loud enough to shake the plaster from the stair-walls. +</P> +<P>Maxence shook with indignation. +</P> +<P>“Never,” he uttered, “never until now, had I understood the infamy +of my conduct. With a father such as ours, Gilberte, I should be +your protector. And now I am debarred even of the right to +interfere. But never mind, I have the will; and all will soon be +repaired.” +</P> +<P>Left alone, a few moments after, Mlle. Gilberte was congratulating +herself upon her firmness. +</P> +<P>“I am sure,” she thought, “Marius would approve, if he knew.” +</P> +<P>She had not long to wait for her reward. The bell rang: it was her +old professor, the Signor Gismondo Pulei, who came to give her his +daily lesson. +</P> +<P>The liveliest joy beamed upon his face, more shriveled than an +apple at Easter; and the most magnificent anticipations sparkled in +his eyes. +</P> +<P>“I knew it, signora!” he exclaimed from the threshold: “I knew that +angels bring good luck. As every thing succeeds to you, so must +every thing succeed to those who come near you.” +</P> +<P>She could not help smiling at the appropriateness of the compliment. +</P> +<P>“Something fortunate has happened to you, dear master?” she asked. +</P> +<P>“That is to say, I am on the high-road to fortune and glory,” he +replied. “My fame is extending; pupils dispute the privilege of +my lesson.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte knew too well the thoroughly Italian exaggeration of +the worthy maestro to be surprised. +</P> +<P>“This morning,” he went on, “visited by inspiration, I had risen +early, and I was working with marvelous facility, when there was a +knock at my door. I do not remember such an occurrence since the +blessed day when your worthy father called for me. Surprised, I +nevertheless said, ‘Come in;’ when there appeared a tall and robust +young man, proud and intelligent-looking.” +</P> +<P>The young girl started. +</P> +<P>“Marius!” cried a voice within her. +</P> +<P>“This young man,” continued the old Italian, “had heard me spoken +of, and came to apply for lessons. I questioned him; and from the +first words I discovered that his education had been frightfully +neglected, that he was ignorant of the most vulgar notions of the +divine art, and that he scarcely knew the difference between a +sharp and a quaver. It was really the A, B, C, which he wished me +to teach him. Laborious task, ungrateful labor! But he manifested +so much shame at his ignorance, and so much desire to be instructed, +that I felt moved in his favor. Then his countenance was most +winning, his voice of a superior tone; and finally he offered me +sixty francs a month. In short, he is now my pupil.” +</P> +<P>As well as she could, Mlle. Gilberte was hiding her blushes behind +a music-book. +</P> +<P>“We remained over two hours talking,” said the good and simple +maestro, “and I believe that he has excellent dispositions. +Unfortunately, he can only take two lessons a week. Although a +nobleman, he works; and, when he took off his glove to hand me a +month in advance, I noticed that one of his hands was blackened, +as if burnt by some acid. But never mind, signora, sixty francs, +together with what your father gives me, it's a fortune. The end +of my career will be spared the privations of its beginning. This +young man will help making me known. The morning has been dark; +but the sunset will be glorious.” +</P> +<P>The young girl could no longer have any doubts: M. de Tregars had +found the means of hearing from her, and letting her hear from him. +</P> +<P>The impression she felt contributed no little to give her the +patience to endure the obstinate persecution of her father, who, +twice a day, never failed to repeat to her: +</P> +<P>“Get ready to properly receive my protege on Saturday. I have not +invited him to dinner: he will only spend the evening with us.” +</P> +<P>And he mistook for a disposition to yield the cold tone in which +she answered: +</P> +<P>“I beg you to believe that this introduction is wholly unnecessary.” +</P> +<P>Thus, the famous day having come, he told his usual Saturday guests, +M. and Mme. Desclavettes, M. Chapelain, and old man Desormeaux: +</P> +<P>“Eh, eh! I guess you are going to see a future son-in-law!” +</P> +<P>At nine o'clock, just as they had passed into the parlor, the sound +of carriage-wheels startled the Rue St. Gilles. +</P> +<P>“There he is!” exclaimed the cashier of the Mutual Credit. +</P> +<P>And, throwing open a window: +</P> +<P>“Come, Gilberte,” he added, “come and see his carriage and horses.” +</P> +<P>She never stirred; but M. Desclavettes and M. Chapelain ran. It was +night, unfortunately; and of the whole equipage nothing was visible +but the two lanterns that shone like stars. Almost at the same time +the parlor-door flew open; and the servant, who had been properly +trained in advance, announced: +</P> +<P>“Monsieur Costeclar.” +</P> +<P>Leaning toward Mme. Favoral, who was seated by her side on the sofa, +</P> +<P>“A nice-looking man, isn't he? a really nice-looking man,” whispered +Mme. Desclavettes. +</P> +<P>And indeed he really thought so himself. Gesture, attitude, smile, +every thing in M. Costeclar, betrayed the satisfaction of self, and +the assurance of a man accustomed to success. His head, which was +very small, had but little hair left; but it was artistically drawn +towards the temples, parted in the middle, and cut short around +the forehead. His leaden complexion, his pale lips, and his dull +eye, did not certainly betray a very rich blood; he had a great long +nose, sharp and curved like a sickle; and his beard, of undecided +color, trimmed in the Victor Emmanuel style, did the greatest honor +to the barber who cultivated it. Even when seen for the first time, +one might fancy that he recognized him, so exactly was he like three +or four hundred others who are seen daily in the neighborhood of +the Café Riche, who are met everywhere where people run who pretend +to amuse themselves,—at the bourse or in the bois; at the first +representations, where they are just enough hidden to be perfectly +well seen at the back of boxes filled with young ladies with +astonishing chignons; at the races; in carriages, where they drink +champagne to the health of the winner. +</P> +<P>He had on this occasion hoisted his best looks, and the full dress +<I>de rigueur</I>—dress-coat with wide sleeves, shirt cut low in the neck, +and open vest, fastened below the waist by a single button. +</P> +<P>“Quite the man of the world,” again remarked Mme. Desclavettes. +</P> +<P>M. Favoral rushed toward him; and the latter, hastening, met him +half way, and, taking both his hands into his—“I cannot tell you, +dear friend,” he commenced, “how deeply I feel the honor you do me +in receiving me in the midst of your charming family and your +respectable friends.” +</P> +<P>And he bowed all around during this speech, which he delivered in +the condescending tone of a lord visiting his inferiors. +</P> +<P>“Let me introduce you to my wife,” interrupted the cashier. And, +leading him towards Mme. Favoral—“Monsieur Costeclar, my dear,” +said he: “the friend of whom we have spoken so often.” +</P> +<P>M. Costeclar bowed, rounding his shoulders, bending his lean form +in a half-circle, and letting his arms hang forward. +</P> +<P>“I am too much the friend of our dear Favoral, madame,” he uttered, +“not to have heard of you long since, nor to know your merits, and +the fact that he owes to you that peaceful happiness which he enjoys, +and which we all envy him.” +</P> +<P>Standing by the mantel-piece, the usual Saturday evening guests +followed with the liveliest interest the evolutions of the pretender. +Two of them, M. Chapelain and old Desormeaux, were perfectly able +to appreciate him at his just value; but, in affirming that he made +half a million a year, M. Favoral had, as it were, thrown over his +shoulders that famous ducal cloak which concealed all deformities. +</P> +<P>Without waiting for his wife's answer, M. Favoral brought his +protege in front of Mlle. Gilberte. +</P> +<P>“Dear daughter,” said he, “Monsieur Costeclar, the friend of whom +I have spoken.” +</P> +<P>M. Costeclar bowed still lower, and rounded off his shoulders again; +but the young lady looked at him from head to foot with such a +freezing glance, that his tongue remained as if paralyzed in his +mouth, and he could only stammer out: +</P> +<P>“Mademoiselle! the honor, the humblest of your admirers.” +</P> +<P>Fortunately Maxence was standing three steps off—he fell back in +good order upon him, and seizing his hand, which he shook vigorously: +</P> +<P>“I hope, my dear sir, that we shall soon be quite intimate friends. +Your excellent father, whose special concern you are, has often +spoken to me of you. Events, so he has confided to me, have not +hitherto responded to your expectations. At your age, this is not +a very grave matter. People, now-a-days, do not always find at the +first attempt the road that leads to fortune. You will find yours. +From this time forth I place at your command my influence and my +experience; and, if you will consent to take me for your guide—” +</P> +<P>Maxence had withdrawn his hand. +</P> +<P>“I am very much obliged to you, sir,” he answered coldly; “but I am +content with my lot, and I believe myself old enough to walk alone.” +</P> +<P>Almost any one would have lost countenance. But M. Costeclar was +so little put out, that it seemed as though he had expected just +such a reception. He turned upon his heels, and advanced towards +M. Favoral's friends with a smile so engaging as to make it evident +that he was anxious to conquer their suffrages. +</P> +<P>This was at the beginning of the month of June, 1870. No one as +yet could foresee the frightful disasters which were to mark the +end of that fatal year. And yet there was everywhere in France +that indefinable anxiety which precedes great social convulsions. +The plebiscitum had not succeeded in restoring confidence. Every +day the most alarming rumors were put in circulation and it was with +a sort of passion that people went in quest of news. +</P> +<P>Now, M. Costeclar was a wonderfully well-posted man. He had, +doubtless, on his way, stopped on the Boulevard des Italiens, that +blessed ground where nightly the street-brokers labor for the +financial prosperity of the country. He had gone through the Passage +de l'Opera, which is, as is well known, the best market for the most +correct and the most reliable news. Therefore he might safely be +believed. +</P> +<P>Placing his back to the chimney, he had taken the lead in the +conversation; and he was talking, talking, talking. Being a “bull,” +he took a favorable view of every thing. He believed in the +eternity of the second empire. He sang the praise of the new +cabinet: he was ready to pour out his blood for Emile Ollivier. +True, some people complained that business was dull and slow; but +those people, he thought, were merely “bears.” Business had never +been so brilliant. At no time had prosperity been greater. Capital +was abundant. The institutions of credit were flourishing. +Securities were rising. Everybody's pockets were full to bursting. +And the others listened in astonishment to this inexhaustible +prattle, this “gab,” more filled with gold spangles than Dantzig +cordial, with which the commercial travelers of the bourse catch +their customers. +</P> +<P>Suddenly: +</P> +<P>“But you must excuse me,” he said, rushing towards the other end of +the parlor. +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral had just left the room to order tea to be brought in; +and, the seat by Mlle. Gilberte being vacant, M. Costeclar occupied +it promptly. +</P> +<P>“He understands his business,” growled M. Desormeaux. +</P> +<P>“Surely,” said M. Desclavettes, “if I had some funds to dispose of +just now.” +</P> +<P>“I would be most happy to have him for my son-in-law,” declared M. +Favoral. +</P> +<P>He was doing his best. Somewhat intimidated by Mlle. Gilberte's +first look, he had now fully recovered his wits. +</P> +<P>He commenced by sketching his own portrait. +</P> +<P>He had just turned thirty, and had experienced the strong and the +weak side of life. He had had “successes,” but had tired of them. +Having gauged the emptiness of what is called pleasure, he only +wished now to find a partner for life, whose graces and virtues +would secure his domestic happiness. +</P> +<P>He could not help noticing the absent look of the young girl; but +he had, thought he, other means of compelling her attention. And +he went on, saying that he felt himself cast of the metal of which +model husbands are made. His plans were all made in advance. His +wife would be free to do as she pleased. She would have her own +carriage and horses, her box at the Italiens and at the Opera, and +an open account at Worth's and Van Klopen's. As to diamonds, he +would take care of that. He meant that his wife's display of +wealth should be noticed; and even spoken of in the newspapers. +</P> +<P>Was this the terms of a bargain that he was offering? +</P> +<P>If so, it was so coarsely, that Mlle. Gilberte, ignorant of life as +she was, wondered in what world it might be that he had met with so +many “successes.” And, somewhat indignantly: +</P> +<P>“Unfortunately,” she said, “the bourse is perfidious; and the man +who drives his own carriage to-day, to-morrow may have no shoes to +wear.” +</P> +<P>M. Costeclar nodded with a smile. +</P> +<P>“Exactly so,” said he. “A marriage protects one against such +reverses. +</P> +<P>“Every man in active business, when he marries, settles upon his +wife reasonable fortune. I expect to settle six hundred thousand +francs upon mine.” +</P> +<P>“So that, if you were to meet with an—accident?” +</P> +<P>“We should enjoy our thirty thousand a year under the very nose of +the creditors.” +</P> +<P>Blushing with shame, Mlle. Gilberte rose. +</P> +<P>“But then,” said she, “it isn't a wife that you are looking for: it +is an accomplice.” +</P> +<P>He was spared the embarrassment of an answer, by the servant, who +came in, bringing in tea. He accepted a cup; and after two or +three anecdotes, judging that he had done enough for a first visit, +he withdrew, and a moment later they heard his carriage driving off +at full gallop. +</P> + + +<H2>XVI + +</H2><P>It was not without mature thought that M. Costeclar had determined +to withdraw, despite M. Favoral's pressing overtures. However +infatuated he might be with his own merits, he had been compelled +to surrender to evidence, and to acknowledge that he had not exactly +succeeded with Mlle. Gilberte. But he also knew that he had the +head of the house on his side; and he flattered himself that he +had produced an excellent impression upon the guests of the house. +</P> +<P>“Therefore,” had he said to himself, “if I leave first, they will +sing my praise, lecture the young person, and make her listen to +reason.” +</P> +<P>He was not far from being right. Mme. Desclavettes had been +completely subjugated by the grand manners of this pretender; and +M. Desclavettes did not hesitate to affirm that he had rarely met +any one who pleased him more. +</P> +<P>The others, M. Chapelain and old Desormeaux, did not, doubtless, +share this optimism; but M. Costeclar's annual half-million +obscured singularly their clear-sightedness. +</P> +<P>They thought perhaps, they had discovered in him some alarming +features; but they had full and entire confidence in their friend +Favoral's prudent sagacity. +</P> +<P>The particular and methodic cashier of the Mutual Credit was not +apt to be enthusiastic; and, if he opened the doors of his house to +a young man, if he was so anxious to have him for his son-in-law, +he must evidently have taken ample information. +</P> +<P>Finally there are certain family matters from which sensible people +keep away as they would from the plague; and, on the question of +marriage especially, he is a bold man who would take side for or +against. +</P> +<P>Thus Mme. Desclavettes was the only one to raise her voice. Taking +Mlle. Gilberte's hands within hers: +</P> +<P>“Let me scold you, my dear,” said she, “for having received thus a +poor young man who was only trying to please you.” +</P> +<P>Excepting her mother, too weak to take her defence, and her brother, +who was debarred from interfering, the young girl understood readily, +that, in that parlor, every one, overtly or tacitly, was against her. +The idea came to her mind to repeat there boldly what she had already +told her father that she was resolved not to marry, and that she +would not marry, not being one of those weak girls, without energy, +whom they dress in white, and drag to church against their will. +</P> +<P>Such a bold declaration would be in keeping with her character. +But she feared a terrible, and perhaps degrading scene. The most +intimate friends of the family were ignorant of its most painful +sores. In presence of his friends, M. Favoral dissembled, speaking +in a mild voice, and assuming a kindly smile. Should she suddenly +reveal the truth? +</P> +<P>“It is childish of you to run the risk of discouraging a clever +fellow who makes half a million a year,” continued the wife of the +old bronze-merchant, to whom such conduct seemed an abominable crime +of <I>lese-money</I>. Mlle. Gilberte had withdrawn her hands. +</P> +<P>“You did not hear what he said, madame.” +</P> +<P>“I beg your pardon: I was quite near, and involuntarily—” +</P> +<P>“You have heard his—propositions?” +</P> +<P>“Perfectly. He was promising you a carriage, a box at the opera, +diamonds, freedom. Isn't that the dream of all young ladies?” +</P> +<P>“It is not mine, madame!” +</P> +<P>“Dear me! What better can you wish? You must not expect more from +a husband than he can possibly give.” +</P> +<P>“That is not what I shall expect of him.” +</P> +<P>In a tone of paternal indulgence, which his looks belied: +</P> +<P>“She is mad,” suggested M. Favoral. +</P> +<P>Tears of indignation filled Mlle. Gilberte's eyes. +</P> +<P>“Mme. Desclavettes,” she exclaimed, “forgets something. She forgets +that this gentleman dared to tell me that he proposed to settle upon +the woman he marries a large fortune, of which his creditors would +thus be cheated in case of his failure in business.” +</P> +<P>She thought, in her simplicity, that a cry of indignation would rise +at these words. Instead of which: +</P> +<P>“Well, isn't it perfectly natural?” said M. Desclavettes. +</P> +<P>“It seems to me more than natural,” insisted Mme. Desclavettes, +“that a man should be anxious to preserve from ruin his wife and +children.” +</P> +<P>“Of course,” put in M. Favoral. +</P> +<P>Stepping resolutely toward her father: +</P> +<P>“Have you, then, taken such precautions yourself?” demanded Mlle. +Gilberte. +</P> +<P>“No,” answered the cashier of the Mutual Credit. And, after a +moment of hesitation: +</P> +<P>“But I am running no risks,” he added. “In business, and when a +man may be ruined by a mere rise or fall in stocks, he would be +insane indeed who did not secure bread for his family, and, above +all, means for himself, wherewith to commence again. The Baron de +Thaller did not act otherwise; and, should he meet with a disaster, +Mme. de Thaller would still have a handsome fortune.” +</P> +<P>M. Desormeaux was, perhaps, the only one not to admit freely that +theory, and not to accept that ever-decisive reason, “Others do it.” +</P> +<P>But he was a philosopher, and thought it silly not to be of his time. +He therefore contented himself with saying: +</P> +<P>“Hum! M. de Thaller's creditors might not think that mode of +proceeding entirely regular.” +</P> +<P>“Then they might sue,” said M. Chapelain, laughing. “People can +always sue; only when the papers are well drawn—” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte stood dismayed. She thought of Marius de Tregars +giving up his mother's fortune to pay his father's debts. +</P> +<P>“What would he say,” thought she, “should he hear such opinions!” +</P> +<P>The cashier of the Mutual Credit resumed: +</P> +<P>“Surely I blame every species of fraud. But I pretend, and I +maintain, that a man who has worked twenty years to give a handsome +dowry to his daughter has the right to demand of his son-in-law +certain conservative measures to guarantee the money, which, after +all, is his own, and which is to benefit no one but his own family.” +</P> +<P>This declaration closed the evening. It was getting late. The +Saturday guests put on their overcoats; and, as they were walking +home, +</P> +<P>“Can you understand that little Gilberte?” said Mme. Desclavettes. +“I'd like to see a daughter of mine have such fancies! But her +poor mother is so weak!” +</P> +<P>“Yes; but friend Favoral is firm enough for both,” interrupted M. +Desormeaux; “and it is more than probable that at this very moment +he is correcting his daughter of the sin of sloth.” +</P> +<P>Well, not at all. Extremely angry as M. Favoral must have been, +neither that evening, nor the next day, did he make the remotest +allusion to what had taken place. +</P> +<P>The following Monday only, before leaving for his office, casting +upon his wife and daughter one of his ugliest looks: +</P> +<P>“M. Costeclar owes us a visit,” said he; “and it is possible that +he may call in my absence. I wish him to be admitted; and I forbid +you to go out, so that you can have no pretext to refuse him the +door. I presume there will not be found in my house any one bold +enough to ill receive a man whom I like, and whom I have selected +for my son-in-law.” +</P> +<P>But was it probable, was it even possible, that M. Costeclar could +venture upon such a step after Mlle. Gilberte's treatment of him on +the previous Saturday evening? +</P> +<P>“No, a thousand times no!” affirmed Maxence to his mother and sister. +“So you may rest easy.” +</P> +<P>Indeed they tried to be, until that very afternoon the sound of +rapidly-rolling wheels attracted Mme. Favoral to the window. A +coupe, drawn by two gray horses, had just stopped at the door. +</P> +<P>“It must be he,” she said to her daughter. +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte had turned slightly pale. +</P> +<P>“There is no help for it, mother,” she said: “You must receive him.” +</P> +<P>“And you?” +</P> +<P>“I shall remain in my room.” +</P> +<P>“Do you suppose he won't ask for you?” +</P> +<P>“You will answer that I am unwell. He will understand.” +</P> +<P>“But your father, unhappy child, your father?” +</P> +<P>“I do not acknowledge to my father the right of disposing of my +person against my wishes. I detest that man to whom he wishes to +marry me. Would you like to see me his wife, to know me given up +to the most intolerable torture? No, there is no violence in the +world that will ever wring my consent from me. So, mother dear, +do what I ask you. My father can say what he pleases: I take the +whole responsibility upon myself.” +</P> +<P>There was no time to argue: the bell rang. Mlle. Gilberte had +barely time to escape through one of the doors of the parlor, +whilst M. Costeclar was entering at the other. +</P> +<P>If he did have enough perspicacity to guess what had just taken +place, he did not in any way show it. He sat down; and it was +only after conversing for a few moments upon indifferent subjects, +that he asked how Mlle. Gilberte was. +</P> +<P>“She is somewhat—unwell,” stammered Mme. Favoral. +</P> +<P>He did not appear surprised; only, +</P> +<P>“Our dear Favoral,” he said, “will be still more pained than I am +when he hears of this mishap.” +</P> +<P>Better than any other mother, Mme. Favoral must have understood and +approved Mlle. Gilberte's invincible repugnance. To her also, when +she was young, her father had come one day, and said, “I have +discovered a husband for you.” She had accepted him blindly. Bruised +and wounded by daily outrages, she had sought refuge in marriage as +in a haven of safety. +</P> +<P>And since, hardly a day had elapsed that she had not thought it +would have been better for her to have died rather then to have +riveted to her neck those fetters that death alone can remove. She +thought, therefore, that her daughter was perfectly right. And yet +twenty years of slavery had so weakened the springs of her energy, +that under the glance of Costeclar, threatening her with her +husband's name, she felt embarrassed, and could scarcely stammer +some timid excuses. And she allowed him to prolong his visit, and +consequently her torment, for over an half an hour; then, when he +had gone, +</P> +<P>“He and your father understand each other,” said she to her daughter, +“that is but too evident. What is the use of struggling?” +</P> +<P>A fugitive blush colored the pale cheeks of Mlle. Gilberte. For +the past forty-eight hours she had been exhausting herself, seeking +an issue to an impossible situation; and she had accustomed her mind +to the worst eventualities. +</P> +<P>“Do you wish me, then, to desert the paternal roof?” she exclaimed. +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral almost dropped on the floor. +</P> +<P>“You would run away,” she stammered, “you!” +</P> +<P>“Rather than become that man's wife, yes!” +</P> +<P>“And where would you go, unfortunate child? what would you do?” +</P> +<P>“I can earn my living.” +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral shook her head sadly. The same suspicions were reviving +within her that she had felt once before. +</P> +<P>“Gilberte,” she said in a beseeching tone, “am I, then, no longer +your best friend? and will you not tell me from what sources you +draw your courage and your resolution?” +</P> +<P>And, as her daughter said nothing: +</P> +<P>“God alone knows what may happen!” sighed the poor woman. +</P> +<P>Nothing happened, but what could have been easily foreseen. When +M. Favoral came home to dinner, he was whistling a perfect storm +on the stairs. He abstained at first from all recrimination; but +towards the end of the meal, with the most sarcastic look he could +assume: +</P> +<P>“It seems,” he said to his daughter, “that you were unwell this +afternoon?” +</P> +<P>Bravely, and without flinching, she sustained his look; and, in a +firm voice: +</P> +<P>“I shall always be indisposed,” she replied, “when M. Costeclar +calls. You hear me, don't you, father—always!” +</P> +<P>But the cashier of the Credit Mutual was not one of those men whose +wrath finds vent in mere sarcasms. Rising suddenly to his feet: +</P> +<P>“By the holy heavens!” he screamed forth, “you are wrong to trifle +thus with my will; for, all of you here, I shall crush you as I do +this glass.” +</P> +<P>And, with a frenzied gesture, he dashed the glass he held in his +hand against the wall, where it broke in a thousand pieces. +Trembling like a leaf, Mme. Favoral staggered upon her chair. +</P> + + +<H2>XVII + +</H2><P>“Better kill her at once,” said Mlle. Gilberte coldly. “She would +suffer less.” +</P> +<P>It was by a torrent of invective that M. Favoral replied. His rage, +dammed up for the past four days, finding at last an outlet, flowed +in gross insults and insane threats. He spoke of throwing out in +the street his wife and children, or starving them out, or shutting +up his daughter in a house of correction; until at last, language +failing his fury, beside himself, he left, swearing that he would +bring M. Costeclar home himself, and then they would see. +</P> +<P>“Very well, we shall see,” said Mlle. Gilberte. +</P> +<P>Motionless in his place, and white as a plaster cast, Maxence had +witnessed this lamentable scene. A gleam of common-sense had +enabled him to control his indignation, and to remain silent. He +had understood, that, at the first word, his father's fury would +have turned against him; and then what might have happened? The +most frightful dramas of the criminal courts have often had no +other origin. +</P> +<P>“No, this is no longer bearable!” he exclaimed. +</P> +<P>Even at the time of his greatest follies, Maxence had always had +for his sister a fraternal affection. He admired her from the day +she had stood up before him to reproach him for his misconduct. He +envied her her quiet determination, her patient tenacity, and that +calm energy that never failed her. +</P> +<P>“Have patience, my poor Gilberte,” he added: “the day is not far, +I hope, when I may commence to repay you all you have done for me. +I have not lost my time since you restored me my reason. I have +arranged with my creditors. I have found a situation, which, if +not brilliant, is at least sufficiently lucrative to enable me +before long to offer you, as well as to our mother, a peaceful +retreat.” +</P> +<P>“But it is to-morrow,” interrupted Mme. Favoral, “to-morrow that +your father is to bring M. Costeclar. He has said so, and he will +do it.” +</P> +<P>And so he did. About two o'clock in the afternoon M. Favoral and +his protege arrived in the Rue St. Gilles, in that famous coupe +with the two horses, which excited the wonder of the neighbors. +</P> +<P>But Mlle. Gilberte had her plan ready. She was on the lookout; +and, as soon as she heard the carriage stop, she ran to her room, +undressed in a twinkling, and went to bed. +</P> +<P>When her father came for her, and saw her in bed, he remained +surprised and puzzled on the threshold of the door. +</P> +<P>“And yet I'll make you come into the parlor!” he said in a hoarse +voice. +</P> +<P>“Then you must carry me there as I am,” she said in a tone of +defiance; “for I shall certainly not get up.” +</P> +<P>For the first time since his marriage, M. Favoral met in his own +house a more inflexible will than his own, and a more unyielding +obstinacy. He was baffled. He threatened his daughter with his +clinched fists, but could discover no means of making her obey. +He was compelled to surrender, to yield. +</P> +<P>“This will be settled with the rest,” he growled, as he went out. +</P> +<P>“I fear nothing in the world, father,” said the girl. +</P> +<P>It was almost true, so much did the thought of Marius de Tregars +inflame her courage. Twice already she had heard from him through +the Signor Gismondo Pulei, who never tired talking of this new pupil, +to whom he had already given two lessons. +</P> +<P>“He is the most gallant man in the world,” he said, his eye sparkling +with enthusiasm, “and the bravest, and the most generous, and the +best; and no quality that can adorn one of God's creatures shall be +wanting in him when I have taught him the divine art. It is not +with a little contemptible gold that he means to reward my zeal. +To him I am as a second father; and it is with the confidence of a +son that he explains to me his labors and his hopes.” +</P> +<P>Thus Mlle. Gilberte learned through the old maestro, that the +newspaper article she had read was almost exactly true, and that +M. de Tregars and M. Marcolet had become associated for the purpose +of working, in joint account, certain recent discoveries, which bid +fair to yield large profits in a near future. +</P> +<P>“And yet it is for my sake alone that he has thus thrown himself +into the turmoil of business, and has become as eager for gain as +that M. Marcolet himself.” +</P> +<P>And, at the height of her father's persecutions, she felt glad of +what she had done, and of her boldness in placing her destiny in the +hands of a stranger. The memory of Marius had become her refuge, +the element of all her dreams and of all her hopes; in a word, her +life. +</P> +<P>It was of Marius she was thinking, when her mother, surprising her +gazing into vacancy, would ask her, “What are you thinking of?” And, +at every new vexation she had to endure, her imagination decked him +with a new quality, and she clung to him with a more desperate grasp. +</P> +<P>“How much he would grieve,” thought she, “if he knew of what +persecution I am the object!” +</P> +<P>And very careful was she not to allow the Signor Gismondo Pulei to +suspect any thing of it, affecting, on the contrary, in his presence, +the most cheerful serenity. +</P> +<P>And yet she was a prey to the most cruel anxiety, since she observed +a new and most incredible transformation in her father. +</P> +<P>That man so violent and so harsh, who flattered himself never to +have been bent, who boasted never to have forgotten or forgiven any +thing, that domestic tyrant, had become quite a debonair personage. +He had referred to the expedient imagined by Mlle. Gilberte only to +laugh at it, saying that it was a good trick, and he deserved it; +for he repented bitterly, he protested, his past brutalities. +</P> +<P>He owned that he had at heart his daughter's marriage with M. +Costeclar; but he acknowledged that he had made use of the surest +means for making it fail. He should, he humbly confessed, have +expected every thing of time and circumstances, of M. Costeclar's +excellent qualities, and of his beautiful, darling daughter's +good sense. +</P> +<P>More than of all his violence, Mme. Favoral was terrified at this +affected good nature. +</P> +<P>“Dear me!” she sighed, “what does it all mean?” +</P> +<P>But the cashier of the Mutual Credit was not preparing any new +surprise to his family. If the means were different, it was still +the same object that he was pursuing with the tenacity of an insect. +When severity had failed, he hoped to succeed by gentleness, that's +all. Only this assumption of hypocritical meekness was too new +to him to deceive any one. At every moment the mask fell off, the +claws showed, and his voice trembled with ill-suppressed rage in +the midst of his most honeyed phrases. +</P> +<P>Moreover, he entertained the strangest illusions. Because for +forty-eight hours he had acted the part of a good-natured man, +because one Sunday he had taken his wife and daughter out riding in +the Bois de Vincennes, because he had given Maxence a hundred-franc +note, he imagined that it was all over, that the past was obliterated, +forgotten, and forgiven. +</P> +<P>And, drawing Gilberte upon his knees, +</P> +<P>“Well, daughter,” he said, “you see that I don't importune you any +more, and I leave you quite free. I am more reasonable than you are.” +</P> +<P>But on the other hand, and according to an expression which escaped +him later, he tried to turn the enemy. +</P> +<P>He did every thing in his power to spread in the neighborhood the +rumor of Mlle. Gilberte's marriage with a financier of colossal +wealth,—that elegant young man who came in a coupe with two horses. +Mme. Favoral could not enter a shop without being covertly +complimented upon having found such a magnificent establishment for +her daughter. +</P> +<P>Loud, indeed, must have been the gossip; for its echo reached even +the inattentive ears of the Signor Gismondo Pulei. +</P> +<P>One day, suddenly interrupting his lesson,—“You are going to be +married, signora?” he inquired. +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte started. +</P> +<P>What the old Italian had heard, he would surely ere long repeat to +Marius. It was therefore urgent to undeceive him. +</P> +<P>“It is true,” she replied, “that something has been said about a +marriage, dear maestro.” +</P> +<P>“Ah, ah!” +</P> +<P>“Only my father had not consulted me. That marriage will never +take place: I swear it.” +</P> +<P>She expressed herself in a tone of such ardent conviction, that the +old gentleman was quite astonished, little dreaming that it was not +to him that this energetic denial was addressed. +</P> +<P>“My destiny is irrevocably fixed,” added Mlle. Gilberte. “When I +marry, I will consult the inspirations of my heart only.” +</P> +<P>In the mean time, it was a veritable conspiracy against her. M. +Favoral had succeeded in interesting in the success of his designs +his habitual guests, not M. and Mme. Desclavettes, who had been +seduced from the first, but M. Chapelain and old Desormeaux himself. +So that they all vied with each other in their efforts to bring the +“dear child” to reason, and to enlighten her with their counsels. +</P> +<P>“Father must have a still more considerable interest in this alliance +than he has allowed us to think,” she remarked to her brother. +Maxence was also absolutely of the same opinion. +</P> +<P>“And then,” he added, “our father must be terribly rich; for, do not +deceive yourself, it isn't solely for your pretty blue eyes that +this Costeclar persists in coming here twice a week to pocket a new +mortification. What enormous dowry can he be hoping for? I am +going to speak to him myself, and try to find out what he is after.” +</P> +<P>But Mlle. Gilberte had but slight confidence in her brother's +diplomacy. +</P> +<P>“I beg of you,” she said, “don't meddle with that business!” +</P> +<P>“Yes, yes, I will! Fear nothing, I'll be prudent.” +</P> +<P>Having taken his resolution, Maxence placed himself on the lookout; +and the very next day, as M. Costeclar was stepping out of his +carriage at the door, he walked straight up to him. +</P> +<P>“I wish to speak to you, sir,” he said. Self-possessed as he was, +the brilliant financier succeeded but poorly in concealing a surprise +that looked very much like fright. +</P> +<P>“I am going in to call on your parents, sir,” he replied; “and whilst +waiting for your father, with whom I have an appointment, I shall be +at your command.” +</P> +<P>“No, no!” interrupted Maxence. “What I have to say must be heard by +you alone. Come along this way, and we shall not be interrupted.” +</P> +<P>And he led M. Costeclar away as far as the Place Royal. Once there, +</P> +<P>“You are very anxious to marry my sister, sir,” he commenced. +</P> +<P>During their short walk M. Costeclar had recovered himself. He had +resumed all his impertinent assurance. Looking at Maxence from head +to foot with any thing but a friendly look, +</P> +<P>“It is my dearest and my most ardent wish, sir,” he replied. +</P> +<P>“Very well. But you must have noticed the very slight success, to +use no harsher word, of your assiduities.” +</P> +<P>“Alas!” +</P> +<P>“And, perhaps, you will judge, like myself, that it would be the act +of a gentleman to withdraw in presence of such positive repugnance?” +</P> +<P>An ugly smile was wandering upon M. Costeclar's pale lips. +</P> +<P>“Is it at the request of your sister, sir, that you make me this +communication?” +</P> +<P>“No, sir.” +</P> +<P>“Are you aware whether your sister has some inclination that may be +an obstacle to the realization of my hopes?” +</P> +<P>“Sir!” +</P> +<P>“Excuse me! What I say has nothing to offend. It might very well +be that your sister, before I had the honor of being introduced to +her, had already fixed her choice.” +</P> +<P>He spoke so loud, that Maxence looked sharply around to see whether +there was not some one within hearing. He saw no one but a young +man, who seemed quite absorbed reading a newspaper. +</P> +<P>“But, sir,” he resumed, “what would you answer, if I, the brother +of the young lady whom you wish to marry against her wishes,—I +called upon you to cease your assiduities?” +</P> +<P>M. Costeclar bowed ceremoniously, +</P> +<P>“I would answer you, sir,” he uttered, “that your father's assent +is sufficient for me. My suit has nothing but is honorable. Your +sister may not like me: that is a misfortune; but it is not +irreparable. When she knows me better, I venture to hope that she +will overcome her unjust prejudices. Therefore I shall persist.” +</P> +<P>Maxence insisted no more. He was irritated at M. Costeclar's +coolness; but it was not his intention to push things further. +</P> +<P>“There will always be time,” he thought, “to resort to violent +measures.” +</P> +<P>But when he reported this conversation to his sister, +</P> +<P>“It is clear,” he said, “that, between our father and that man, +there is a community of interests which I am unable to discover. +What business have they together? In what respect can your marriage +either help or injure them? I must see, try and find out exactly +who is this Costeclar: the deuse take him!” +</P> +<P>He started out the same day, and had not far to go. +</P> +<P>M. Costeclar was one of those personalities which only bloom in +Paris, and are only met in Paris,—the same as cab-horses, and +young ladies with yellow chignons. +</P> +<P>He knew everybody, and everybody knew him. +</P> +<P>He was well known at the bourse, in all the principal restaurants, +where he called the waiters by their first names, at the box-office +of the theatres, at all the pool-rooms, and at the European Club, +otherwise called the Nomadic Club, of which he was a member. +</P> +<P>He operated at the bourse: that was sure. He was said to own a +third interest in a stock-broker's office. He had a good deal of +business with M. Jottras, of the house of Jottras and Brother, and +M. Saint Pavin, the manager of a very popular journal, “The Financial +Pilot.” +</P> +<P>It was further known that he had on Rue Vivienne, a magnificent +apartment, and that he had successively honored with his liberal +protection Mlle. Sidney of the Varieties, and Mme. Jenny Fancy, a +lady of a certain age already, but so situated as to return to her +lovers in notoriety what they gave her in good money. So much did +Maxence learn without difficulty. As to any more precise details, +it was impossible to obtain them. To his pressing questions upon +M. Costeclar's antecedents, +</P> +<P>“He is a perfectly honest man,” answered some. +</P> +<P>“He is simply a speculator,” affirmed others. +</P> +<P>But all agreed that he was a sharp one; who would surely make his +fortune, and without passing through the police-courts, either. +</P> +<P>“How can our father and such a man be so intimately connected?” +wondered Maxence and his sister. +</P> +<P>And they were lost in conjectures, when suddenly, at an hour when +he never set his foot in the house, M. Favoral appeared. +</P> +<P>Throwing a letter upon his daughter's lap, +</P> +<P>“See what I have just received from Costeclar,” he said in a hoarse +voice. “Read.” +</P> +<P>She read, “Allow me, dear friend, to release you from your engagement. +Owing to circumstances absolutely beyond my control, I find myself +compelled to give up the honor of becoming a member of your family.” +</P> +<P>What could have happened? +</P> +<P>Standing in the middle of the parlor, the cashier of the Mutual Credit +held, bowed down beneath his glance, his wife and children, Mme. +Favoral trembling, Maxence starting in mute surprise, and Mlle. +Gilberte, who needed all the strength of her will to control the +explosion of her immense joy. +</P> +<P>Every thing in M. Favoral betrayed, nevertheless, much more the +excitement of a disaster than the rage of a deception. +</P> +<P>Never had his family seen him thus,—livid, his cravat undone, his +hair wet with perspiration, and clinging to his temples. +</P> +<P>“Will you please explain this letter?” he asked at last. +</P> +<P>And, as no one answered him, he took up that letter again from the +table where Mlle. Gilberte had laid it, and commenced reading it +again, scanning each syllable, as if in hopes of discovering in each +word some hidden meaning. +</P> +<P>“What did you say to Costeclar?” he resumed, “what did you do to +him to make him take such a determination?” +</P> +<P>“Nothing,” answered Maxence and Mlle. Gilberte. +</P> +<P>The hope of being at last rid of that man inspired Mme. Favoral with +something like courage. +</P> +<P>“He has doubtless understood,” she meekly suggested, “that he could +not triumph over our daughter's repugnance.” +</P> +<P>But her husband interrupted her, +</P> +<P>“No,” he uttered, “Costeclar is not the man to trouble himself about +the ridiculous caprices of a little girl. There is something else. +But what is it? Come, if you know it, any of you, if you suspect it +even, speak, say it. You must see that I am in a state of fearful +anxiety.” +</P> +<P>It was the first time that he thus allowed something to appear of +what was passing within him, the first time that he ever complained. +</P> +<P>“M. Costeclar alone, father, can give you the explanation you ask of +us,” said Mlle. Gilberte. +</P> +<P>The cashier of the Mutual Credit shook his head. “Do you suppose, +then, that I have not questioned him? I found his letter this +morning at the office. At once I ran to his apartments, Rue +Vivienne. He had just gone out; and it is in vain that I called +for him at Jottras', and at the office of ‘The Financial Pilot.’ +I found him at last at the bourse, after running three hours. But +I could only get from him evasive answers and vague explanations. +Of course he did not fail to say, that, if he does withdraw, it is +because he despairs of ever succeeding in pleasing Gilberte. But +it isn't so: I know it; I am sure of it; I read it in his eyes. +Twice his lips moved as if he were about to confess all; and then +he said nothing. And the more I insisted, the more he seemed ill +at ease, embarrassed, uneasy, troubled, the more he appeared to me +like a man who has been threatened, and dares not brave the threat.” +</P> +<P>He directed upon his children one of those obstinate looks which +search the inmost depths of the conscience. +</P> +<P>“If you have done any thing to drive him off,” he resumed, “confess +it frankly, and I swear I will not reproach you.” +</P> +<P>“We did not.” +</P> +<P>“You did not threaten him?” +</P> +<P>“No!” +</P> +<P>M. Favoral seemed appalled. +</P> +<P>“Doubtless you deceive me,” he said, “and I hope you do. Unhappy +children! you do not know what this rupture may cost you.” +</P> +<P>And, instead of returning to his office, he shut himself up in that +little room which he called his study, and only came out of it at +about five o'clock, holding under his arm an enormous bundle of +papers, and saying that it was useless to wait for him for dinner, +as he would not come home until late in the night, if he came home +at all, being compelled to make up for his lost day. +</P> +<P>“What is the matter with your father, my poor children?” exclaimed +Mme. Favoral. “I have never seen him in such a state.” +</P> +<P>“Doubtless,” replied Maxence, “the rupture with Costeclar is going +to break up some combination.” +</P> +<P>But that explanation did not satisfy him any more than it did his +mother. He, too, felt a vague apprehension of some impending +misfortune. But what? He had nothing upon which to base his +conjectures. He knew nothing, any more than his mother, of his +father's affairs, of his relations, of his interests, or even of +his life, outside the house. +</P> +<P>And mother and son lost themselves in suppositions as vain as if +they had tried to find the solution of a problem, without possessing +its terms. +</P> +<P>With a single word Mlle. Gilberte thought she might have enlightened +them. +</P> +<P>In the unerring certainty of the blow, in the crushing promptness +of the result, she thought she could recognize the hand of Marius +de Tregars. +</P> +<P>She recognized the hand of the man who acts, and does not talk. +And the girl's pride felt flattered by this victory, by this proof +of the powerful energy of the man whom, unknown to all, she had +selected. She liked to imagine Marius de Tregars and M. Costeclar +in presence of each other,—the one as imperious and haughty as +she had seen him meek and trembling; the other more humble still +than he was arrogant with her. +</P> +<P>“One thing is certain,” she repeated to herself; “and that is, I +am saved.” +</P> +<P>And she wished the morrow to come, that she might announce her +happiness to the very involuntary and very unconscious accomplice +of Marius, the worthy Maestro Gismondo Pulei. +</P> +<P>The next day M. Favoral seemed to have resigned himself to the +failure of his projects; and, the following Saturday, he told as a +pleasant joke, how Mlle. Gilberte had carried the day, and had +managed to dismiss her lover. +</P> +<P>But a close observer could discover in him symptoms of devouring +cares. Deep wrinkles showed along his temples; his eyes were sunken; +a continued tension of mind contracted his features. Often during +the dinner he would remain motionless for several minutes, his +fork aloft; and then he would murmur, “How is it all going to end?” +</P> +<P>Sometimes in the morning, before his departure for his office, M. +Jottras, of the house of Jottras and Brother, and M. Saint Pavin, +the manager of “The Financial Pilot,” came to see him. They +closeted themselves together, and remained for hours in conference, +speaking so low, that not even a vague murmur could be heard +outside the door. +</P> +<P>“Your father has grave subjects of anxiety, my children,” said Mme. +Favoral: “you may believe me,—me, who for twenty years have been +trying to guess our fate upon his countenance.” +</P> +<P>But the political events were sufficient to explain any amount of +anxiety. It was the second week of July, 1870; and the destinies +of France trembled, as upon a cast of the dice, in the hands of a +few presumptuous incapables. Was it war with Prussia, or was it +peace, that was to issue from the complications of a childishly +astute policy? +</P> +<P>The most contradictory rumors caused daily at the bourse the most +violent oscillations, which endangered the safest fortunes. A few +words uttered in a corridor by Emile Ollivier had made a dozen heavy +operators rich, but had ruined five hundred small ones. On all +hands, credit was trembling. +</P> +<P>Until one evening when he came home, +</P> +<P>“War is declared,” said M. Favoral. +</P> +<P>It was but too true; and no one then had any fears of the result +for France. They had so much exalted the French army, they had +so often said that it was invincible, that every one among the +public expected a series of crushing victories. +</P> +<P>Alas! the first telegram announced a defeat. People refused to +believe it at first. But there was the evidence. The soldiers had +died bravely; but the chiefs had been incapable of leading them. +</P> +<P>From that time, and with a vertiginous rapidity, from day to day, +from hour to hour, the fatal news came crowding on. Like a river +that overflows its banks, Prussia was overrunning France. Bazaine +was surrounded at Metz; and the capitulation of Sedan capped the +climax of so many disasters. +</P> +<P>At last, on the 4th of September, the republic was proclaimed. +</P> +<P>On the 5th, when the Signor Gismondo Pulei presented himself at Rue +St. Gilles, his face bore such an expression of anguish, that Mlle. +Gilberte could not help asking what was the matter. +</P> +<P>He rose on that question, and, threatening heaven with his clinched +fist, +</P> +<P>“Implacable fate does not tire to persecute me,” he replied. “I +had overcome all obstacles: I was happy: I was looking forward to +a future of fortune and glory. No, the dreadful war must break out.” +</P> +<P>For the worthy maestro, this terrible catastrophe was but a new +caprice of his own destiny. +</P> +<P>“What has happened to you?” inquired the young girl, repressing a +smile. +</P> +<P>“It happens to me, signora, that I am about to lose my beloved +pupil. He leaves me; he forsakes me. In vain have I thrown myself +at his feet. My tears have not been able to detain him. He is going +to fight; he leaves; he is a soldier!” +</P> +<P>Then it was given to Mlle. Gilberte to see clearly within her soul. +Then she understood how absolutely she had given herself up, and to +what extent she had ceased to belong to herself. +</P> +<P>Her sensation was terrible, such as if her whole blood had suddenly +escaped through her open arteries. She turned pale, her teeth +chattered; and she seemed so near fainting, that the Signor Gismondo +sprang to the door, crying, “Help, help! she is dying.” +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral, frightened, came running in. But already, thanks to +an all-powerful projection of will, Mlle. Gilberte had recovered, +and, smiling a pale smile, +</P> +<P>“It's nothing, mamma,” she said. “A sudden pain in the head; but +it's gone already.” +</P> +<P>The worthy maestro was in perfect agony. Taking Mme. Favoral aside, +</P> +<P>“It is my fault,” he said. “It is the story of my unheard-of +misfortunes that has upset her thus. Monstrous egotist that I am! +I should have been careful of her exquisite sensibility.” +</P> +<P>She insisted, nevertheless, upon taking her lesson as usual, and +recovered enough presence of mind to extract from the Signor Gismondo +everything that his much-regretted pupil had confided to him. +</P> +<P>That was not much. He knew that his pupil had gone, like anyone +else, to Rue de Cherche Midi; that he had signed an engagement; +and had been ordered to join a regiment in process of formation +near Tours. And, as he went out, +</P> +<P>“That is nothing,” said the kind maestro to Mme. Favoral. “The +signora has quite recovered, and is as gay as a lark.” +</P> +<P>The signora, shut up in her room, was shedding bitter tears. She +tried to reason with herself, and could not succeed. Never had +the strangeness of her situation so clearly appeared to her. She +repeated to herself that she must be mad to have thus become +attached to a stranger. She wondered how she could have allowed +that love, which was now her very life, to take possession of her +soul. But to what end? It no longer rested with her to undo what +had been done. +</P> +<P>When she thought that Marius de Tregars was about to leave Paris +to become a soldier, to fight, to die perhaps, she felt her head +whirl; she saw nothing around her but despair and chaos. +</P> +<P>And, the more she thought, the more certain she felt that Marius +could not have trusted solely to the chance gossip of the Signor +Pulei to communicate to her his determination. +</P> +<P>“It is perfectly inadmissible,” she thought. “It is impossible that +he will not make an effort to see me before going.” +</P> +<P>Thoroughly imbued with the idea, she wiped her eyes, took a seat +by an open window; and, whilst apparently busy with her work, she +concentrated her whole attention upon the street. +</P> +<P>There were more people out than usual. The recent events had +stirred Paris to its lowest depths, and, as from the crater of a +volcano in labor, all the social scoriae rose to the surface. Men +of sinister appearance left their haunts, and wandered through the +city. The workshops were all deserted; and people strolled at +random, stupor or terror painted on their countenance. But in vain +did Mlle. Gilberte seek in all this crowd the one she hoped to see. +The hours went by, and she was getting discouraged, when suddenly, +towards dusk, at the corner of the Rue Turenne, +</P> +<P>“'Tis he,” cried a voice within her. +</P> +<P>It was, in fact, M. de Tregars. He was walking towards the +Boulevard, slowly, and his eyes raised. +</P> +<P>Palpitating, the girl rose to her feet. She was in one of those +moments of crisis when the blood, rushing to the brain, smothers +all judgment. Unconscious, as it were, of her acts, she leaned +over the window, and made a sign to Marius, which he understood very +well, and which meant, “Wait, I am coming down.” +</P> +<P>“Where are you going, dear?” asked Mme. Favoral, seeing Gilberte +putting on her bonnet. +</P> +<P>“To the shop, mamma, to get a shade of worsted I need.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte was not in the habit of going out alone; but it +happened quite often that she would go down in the neighborhood on +some little errand. +</P> +<P>“Do you wish the girl to go out with you?” asked Mme. Favoral. +</P> +<P>“Oh, it isn't worth while!” +</P> +<P>She ran down the stairs; and once out, regardless of the looks that +might be watching her, she walked straight to M. de Tregars, who was +waiting on the corner of the Rue des Minimes. +</P> +<P>“You are going away?” she said, too much agitated to notice his own +emotion, which was, however, quite evident. +</P> +<P>“I must,” he answered. +</P> +<P>“Oh!” +</P> +<P>“When France is invaded, the place for a man who bears my name is +where the fighting is.” +</P> +<P>“But there will be fighting in Paris too.” +</P> +<P>“Paris has four times as many defenders as it needs. It is outside +that soldiers will be wanted.” +</P> +<P>They walked slowly, as they spoke thus, along the Rue des Minimes, +one of the least frequented in Paris; and there were only to be +seen at this hour five or six soldiers talking in front of the +barracks gate. +</P> +<P>“Suppose I were to beg you not to go,” resumed Mlle. Gilberte. +“Suppose I beseeched you, Marius!” +</P> +<P>“I should remain then,” he answered in a troubled voice; “but I +would be betraying my duty, and failing to my honor; and remorse +would weigh upon our whole life. Command now, and I will obey.” +</P> +<P>They had stopped; and no one seeing them standing there side by +side affectionate and familiar could have believed that they were +speaking to each other for the first time. They themselves did not +notice it, so much had they come, with the help of all-powerful +imagination, and in spite of separation, to the understanding of +intimacy. After a moment of painful reflection, +</P> +<P>“I do not ask you any longer to stay,” uttered the young girl. +He took her hand, and raised it to his lips. +</P> +<P>“I expected no less of your courage,” he said, his voice vibrating +with love. But he controlled himself, and, in a more quiet tone, +</P> +<P>“Thanks to the indiscretion of Pulei,” he added, “I was in hopes of +seeing you, but not to have the happiness of speaking to you. I +had written—” +</P> +<P>He drew from his pocket a large envelope, and, handing it to Mlle. +Gilberte, +</P> +<P>“Here is the letter,” he continued, “which I intended for you. It +contains another, which I beg you to preserve carefully, and not to +open unless I do not return. I leave you in Paris a devoted friend, +the Count de Villegre. Whatever may happen to you, apply to him +with all confidence, as you would to myself.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte, staggering, leaned against the wall. +</P> +<P>“When do you expect to leave?” she inquired. +</P> +<P>“This very night. Communications may be cut off at any moment.” +</P> +<P>Admirable in her sorrow, but also full of energy, the poor girl +looked up, and held out her hand to him. +</P> +<P>“Go then,” she said, “O my only friend! go, since honor commands. +But do not forget that it is not your life alone that you are going +to risk.” +</P> +<P>And, fearing to burst into sobs, she fled, and reached the Rue St. +Gilles a few moments before her father, who had gone out in quest +of news. +</P> +<P>Those he brought home were of the most sinister kind. +</P> +<P>Like the rising tide, the Prussians spread and advanced, slowly, +but steadily. Their marches were numbered; and the day and hour +could be named when their flood would come and strike the walls +of Paris. +</P> +<P>And so, at all the railroad stations, there was a prodigious rush +of people who wished to leave at any cost, in any way, in the +baggage-car if needs be, and who certainly were not, like Marius, +rushing to meet the enemy. +</P> +<P>One after another, M. Favoral had seen nearly every one he knew +take flight. +</P> +<P>The Baron and Baroness de Thaller and their daughter had gone to +Switzerland; M. Costeclar was traveling in Belgium; the elder +Jottras was in England, buying guns and cartridge; and if the +younger Jottras, with M. Saint Pavin of “The Financial Pilot,” +remained in Paris, it was because, through the gallant influence +of a lady whose name was not mentioned, they had obtained some +valuable contracts from the government. +</P> +<P>The perplexities of the cashier of the Mutual Credit were great. +The day that the Baron and the Baroness de Thaller had left, +</P> +<P>“Pack up our trunks,” he ordered his wife. “The bourse is going +to close; and the Mutual Credit can very well get along without me.” +</P> +<P>But the next day he became undecided again. What Mlle. Gilberte +thought she could guess, was, that he was dying to start alone, and +leave his family, but dared not do it. He hesitated so long, that +at last, one evening, +</P> +<P>“You may unpack the trunks,” he said to his wife. “Paris is +invested; and no one can now leave.” +</P> + + +<H2>XVIII + +</H2><P>In fact, the news had just come, that the Western Railroad, the last +one that had remained open, was now cut off. +</P> +<P>Paris was invested; and so rapid had been the investment, that it +could hardly be believed. +</P> +<P>People went in crowds on all the culminating points, the hills of +Montmartre, and the heights of the Trocadero. Telescopes had been +erected there; and every one was anxious to scan the horizon, and +look for the Prussians. +</P> +<P>But nothing could be discovered. The distant fields retained their +quiet and smiling aspect under the mild rays of the autumn sun. +</P> +<P>So that it really required quite an effort of imagination to realize +the sinister fact, to understand that Paris, with its two millions +of inhabitants, was indeed cut off from the world and separated from +the rest of France, by an insurmountable circle of steel. +</P> +<P>Doubt, and something like a vague hope, could be traced in the tone +of the people who met on the streets, saying, +</P> +<P>“Well, it's all over: we can't leave any more. Letters, even, +cannot pass. No more news, eh?” +</P> +<P>But the next day, which was the 19th of September, the most +incredulous were convinced. +</P> +<P>For the first time Paris shuddered at the hoarse voice of the cannon, +thundering on the heights of Chatillon. The siege of Paris, that +siege without example in history, had commenced. +</P> +<P>The life of the Favorals during these interminable days of anguish +and suffering, was that of a hundred thousand other families. +</P> +<P>Incorporated in the battalion of his ward, the cashier of the Mutual +Credit went off two or three times a week, as well as all his +neighbors, to mount guard on the ramparts,—a useless service +perhaps, but which those that performed it did not look upon as such, +—a very arduous service, at any rate, for poor merchants, accustomed +to the comforts of their shops, or the quiet of their offices. +</P> +<P>To be sure, there was nothing heroic in tramping through the mud, +in receiving the rain or the snow upon the back, in sleeping on the +ground or on dirty straw, in remaining on guard with the thermometer +twenty degrees below the freezing-point. But people die of pleurisy +quite as certainly as of a Prussian bullet; and many died of it. +</P> +<P>Maxence showed himself but rarely at Rue St. Gilles: enlisted in a +battalion of sharpshooters, he did duty at the advanced posts. And, +as to Mme. Favoral and Mlle. Gilberte, they spent the day trying to +get something to live on. Rising before daylight, through rain or +snow, they took their stand before the butcher's stall, and, after +waiting for hours, received a small slice of horse-meat. +</P> +<P>Alone in the evening, by the side of the hearth where a few pieces +of green wood smoked without burning, they started at each of the +distant reports of the cannon. At each detonation that shook the +window-panes, Mme. Favoral thought that it was, perhaps, the one +that had killed her son. +</P> +<P>And Mlle. Gilberte was thinking of Marius de Tregars. The accursed +days of November and December had come. There were constant rumors +of bloody battles around Orleans. She imagined Marius, mortally +wounded, expiring on the snow, alone, without help, and without a +friend to receive his supreme will and his last breath. +</P> +<P>One evening the vision was so clear, and the impression so strong, +that she started up with a loud cry. +</P> +<P>“What is it?” asked Mme. Favoral, alarmed. “What is the matter?” +</P> +<P>With a little perspicacity, the worthy woman could easily have +obtained her daughter's secret; for Mlle. Gilberte was not in +condition to deny anything. But she contented herself with an +explanation which meant nothing, and had not a suspicion, when +the girl answered with a forced smile, +</P> +<P>“It's nothing, dear mother, nothing but an absurd idea that crossed +my mind.” +</P> +<P>Strange to say, never had the cashier of the Mutual Credit been for +his family what he was during these months of trials. +</P> +<P>During the first weeks of the siege he had been anxious, agitated, +nervous; he wandered through the house like a soul in trouble; he +had moments of inconceivable prostration, during which tears could +be seen rolling down upon his cheeks, and then fits of anger +without motive. +</P> +<P>But each day that elapsed had seemed to bring calm to his soul. +Little by little, he had become to his wife so indulgent and so +affectionate, that the poor helot felt her heart touched. He had +for his daughter attentions which caused her to wonder. +</P> +<P>Often, when the weather was fine, he took them out walking, leading +them along the quays towards a part of the walls occupied by the +battalion of their ward. Twice he took them to St. Onen, where the +sharp-shooters were encamped to which Maxence belonged. +</P> +<P>Another day he wished to take them to visit M. de Thaller's house, +of which he had charge. They refused, and instead of getting angry, +as he certainly would have done formerly, he commenced describing to +them the splendors of the apartments, the magnificent furniture, the +carpets and the hangings, the paintings by the great masters, the +objects of arts, the bronzes, in a word, all that dazzling luxury +of which financiers make use, somewhat as hunters do of the mirror +with which larks are caught. +</P> +<P>Of business, nothing was ever said. +</P> +<P>He went every morning as far as the office of the Mutual Credit; +but, as he said, it was solely as a matter of form. Once in a long +while, M. Saint Pavin and the younger Jottras paid a visit to the +Rue St. Gilles. They had suspended,—the one the payments of his +banking house; the other, the publication of “The Financial Pilot.” +</P> +<P>But they were not idle for all that; and, in the midst of the public +distress, they still managed to speculate upon something, no one +knew what, and to realize profits. +</P> +<P>They rallied pleasantly the fools who had faith in the defence, and +imitated in the most laughable manner the appearance, under their +soldier's coat, of three or four of their friends who had joined +the marching battalions. They boasted that they had no privations +to endure, and always knew where to find the fresh butter wherewith +to dress the large slices of beef which they possessed the art of +finding. Mme. Favoral heard them laugh; and M. Saint Pavin, the +manager of “The Financial Pilot,” exclaimed, +</P> +<P>“Come, come! we would be fools to complain. It is a general +liquidation, without risks and without costs.” Their mirth had +something revolting in it; for it was now the last and most acute +period of the siege. +</P> +<P>At the beginning, the greatest optimists hardly thought that Paris +could hold out longer than six weeks. And now the investment had +lasted over four months. The population was reduced to nameless +articles of food. The supply of bread had failed; the wounded, for +lack of a little soup, died in the ambulances; old people and +children perished by the hundred; on the left bank the shells came +down thick and fast, the weather was intensely cold, and there was +no more fuel. +</P> +<P>And yet no one complained. From the midst of that population of +two millions of inhabitants, not one voice rose to beg for their +comfort, their health, their life even, at the cost of a +capitulation. +</P> +<P>Clear-sighted men had never hoped that Paris alone could compel +the raising of the siege; but they thought, that by holding out, +and keeping the Prussians under its walls, Paris would give to +France time to rise, to organize armies, and to rush upon the enemy. +There was the duty of Paris; and Paris was toiling to fulfil it to +the utmost limits of possibility, reckoning as a victory each day +that it gained. +</P> +<P>Unfortunately, all this suffering was to be in vain. The fatal +hour struck, when, supplies being exhausted, it became necessary +to surrender. During three days the Prussians camped in the Champs +Elysees, gazing with longing eyes upon that city, object of their +most eager desires,—that Paris within which, victorious though +they were, they had not dared to venture. Then, soon after, +communications were reopened; and one morning, as he received a +letter from Switzerland, +</P> +<P>“It is from the Baron de Thaller!” exclaimed M. Favoral. +</P> +<P>Exactly so. The manager of the Mutual Credit was a prudent man. +Pleasantly situated in Switzerland, he was in nowise anxious to +return to Paris before being quite certain that he had no risks +to run. +</P> +<P>Upon receiving M. Favoral's assurances to that effect, he started; +and, almost at the same time the elder Jottras and M. Costeclar +made their appearance. +</P> + + +<H2>XIX + +</H2><P>It was a curious spectacle, the return of those braves for whom +Parisian slang had invented the new and significant expression of +<I>franc-fileur</I>. +</P> +<P>They were not so proud then as they have been since. Feeling rather +embarrassed in the midst of a population still quivering with the +emotions of the siege, they had at least the good taste to try and +find pretexts for their absence. +</P> +<P>“I was cut off,” affirmed the Baron de Thaller. “I had gone to +Switzerland to place my wife and daughter in safety. When I came +back, good-by! the Prussians had closed the doors. For more than +a week, I wandered around Paris, trying to find an opening. I +became suspected of being a spy. I was arrested. A little more, +and I was shot dead!” +</P> +<P>“As to myself,” declared M. Costeclar, “I foresaw exactly what has +happened. I knew that it was outside, to organize armies of relief, +that men would be wanted. I went to offer my services to the +government of defence; and everybody in Bordeaux saw me booted and +spurred, and ready to leave.” +</P> +<P>He was consequently soliciting the Cross of the Legion of Honor, +and was not without hopes of obtaining it through the all-powerful +influence of his financial connections. +</P> +<P>“Didn't So-and-so get it?” he replied to objections. And he named +this or that individual whose feats of arms consisted principally +in having exhibited themselves in uniforms covered with gold lace +to the very shoulders. +</P> +<P>“But I am the man who deserves it most, that cross,” insisted the +younger M. Jottras; “for I, at least, have rendered valuable +services.” +</P> +<P>And he went on telling how, after searching for arms all over +England, he had sailed for New York, where he had purchased any +number of guns and cartridges, and even some batteries of artillery. +</P> +<P>This last journey had been very wearisome to him, he added and yet +he did not regret it; for it had furnished him an opportunity to +study on the spot the financial morals of America; and he had +returned with ideas enough to make the fortune of three or four +stock companies with twenty millions of capital. +</P> +<P>“Ah, those Americans!” he exclaimed. “They are the men who +understand business! We are but children by the side of them.” +</P> +<P>It was through M. Chapelain, the Desclavettes, and old Desormeaux, +that these news reached the Rue St. Gilles. +</P> +<P>It was also through Maxence, whose battalion had been dissolved, +and who, whilst waiting for something better, had accepted a +clerkship in the office of the Orleans Railway, where he earned +two hundred francs a month. For M. Favoral saw and heard nothing +that was going on around him. He was wholly absorbed in his +business: he left earlier, came home later, and hardly allowed +himself time to eat and drink. +</P> +<P>He told all his friends that business was looking up again in the +most unexpected manner; that there were fortunes to be made by +those who could command ready cash; and that it was necessary to +make up for lost time. +</P> +<P>He pretended that the enormous indemnity to be paid to the Prussians +would necessitate an enormous movement of capital, financial +combinations, a loan, and that so many millions could not be handled +without allowing a few little millions to fall into intelligent +pockets. +</P> +<P>Dazzled by the mere enumeration of those fabulous sums, “I should +not be a bit surprised,” said the others, “to see Favoral double +and treble his fortune. What a famous match his daughter will be!” +</P> +<P>Alas! never had Mlle. Gilberte felt in her heart so much hatred +and disgust for that money, the only thought, the sole subject of +conversation, of those around her,—for that cursed money which +had risen like an insurmountable obstacle between Marius and +herself. +</P> +<P>For two weeks past, the communications had been completely restored; +and there was as yet no sign of M. de Tregars. It was with the most +violent palpitations of her heart that she awaited each day the hour +of the Signor Gismondo Pulei's lesson: and more painful each time +became her anguish when she heard him exclaim, +</P> +<P>“Nothing, not a line, not a word. The pupil has forgotten his old +master!” +</P> +<P>But Mlle. Gilberte knew well that Marius did not forget. Her blood +froze in her veins when she read in the papers the interminable +list of those poor soldiers who had succumbed during the invasion, +—the more fortunate ones under Prussian bullets; the others along +the roads, in the mud or in the snow, of cold, of fatigue, of +suffering and of want. +</P> +<P>She could not drive from her mind the memory of that lugubrious +vision which had so much frightened her; and she was asking herself +whether it was not one of those inexplicable presentiments, of +which there are examples, which announce the death of a beloved +person. +</P> +<P>Alone at night in her little room, Mlle. Gilberte withdrew from the +hiding-place, where she kept it preciously, that package which +Marius had confided to her, recommending her not to open it until +she was sure that he would not return. It was very voluminous, +enclosed in an envelope of thick paper, sealed with red wax, bearing +the arms of Tregars; and she had often wondered what it could +possibly contain. And now she shuddered at the thought that she +had perhaps the right to open it. +</P> +<P>And she had no one of whom she could ask for a word of hope. She +was compelled to hide her tears, and to put on a smile. She was +compelled to invent pretexts for those who expressed their wonder +at seeing her exquisite beauty withering in the bud,—for her +mother, whose anxiety was without limit, when she saw her thus pale, +her eyes inflamed, and undermined by a continuous fever. +</P> +<P>True, Marius, on leaving, had left her a friend, the Count de +Villegre; and, if any one knew any thing, he certainly did. But +she could see no way of hearing from him without risking her secret. +Write to him? Nothing was easier, since she had his address,—Rue +Turenne. But where could she ask him to direct his answer? Rue St. +Gilles? Impossible! True, she might go to him, or make an +appointment in the neighborhood. But how could she escape, even +for an hour, without exciting Mme. Favoral's suspicions? +</P> +<P>Sometimes it occurred to her to confide in Maxence, who was laboring +with admirable constancy to redeem his past. +</P> +<P>But what! must she, then, confess the truth,—confess that she, +Gilberte, had lent her ears to the words of a stranger, met by +chance in the street, and that she looked forward to no happiness +in life save through him? She dared not. She could not take upon +herself to overcome the shame of such a situation. +</P> +<P>She was on the verge of despair, the day when the Signor Pulei +arrived radiant, exclaiming from the very threshold, “I have news!” +</P> +<P>And at once, without surprise at the awful emotion of the girl, +which he attributed solely to the interest she felt for him,—him +Gismondo Pulei, he went on,—“I did not get them direct, but through +a respectable signor with long mustaches, and a red ribbon at his +buttonhole, who, having received a letter from my dear pupil, has +deigned to come to my room, and read it to me.” +</P> +<P>The worthy maestro had not forgotten a single word of that letter; +and it was almost literally that he repeated it. +</P> +<P>Six weeks after having enlisted, his pupil had been promoted +corporal, then sergeant, then lieutenant. He had fought in all +the battles of the army of the Loire without receiving a scratch. +But at the battle of the Maus, whilst leading back his men, who +were giving way, he had been shot twice, full in the breast. +Carried dying into an ambulance, he had lingered three weeks +between life and death, having lost all consciousness of self. +Twenty-four hours after, he had recovered his senses; and he took +the first opportunity to recall himself to the affection of his +friends. All danger was over, he suffered scarcely any more; and +they promised him, that, within a month, he would be up, and able +to return to Paris. +</P> +<P>For the first time in many weeks Mlle. Gilberte breathed freely. +But she would have been greatly surprised, had she been told that +a day was drawing near when she would bless those wounds which +detained Marius upon a hospital cot. And yet it was so. +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral and her daughter were alone, one evening, at the house, +when loud clamors arose from the street, in the midst of which +could be heard drunken voices yelling the refrains of revolutionary +songs, accompanied by continuous rumbling sounds. They ran to the +window. The National Guards had just taken possession of the cannon +deposited in the Place Royale. The reign of the Commune was +commencing. +</P> +<P>In less than forty-eight hours, people came to regret the worst days +of the siege. Without leaders, without direction, the honest men +had lost their heads. All the braves who had returned at the time +of the armistice had again taken flight. Soon people had to hide +or to fly to avoid being incorporated in the battalions of the +Commune. Night and day, around the walls, the fusillade rattled, +and the artillery thundered. +</P> +<P>Again M. Favoral had given up going to his office. What's the use? +Sometimes, with a singular look, he would say to his wife and +children, +</P> +<P>“This time it is indeed a liquidation. Paris is lost!” +</P> +<P>And indeed they thought so, when at the hour of the supreme struggle, +among the detonations of the cannon and the explosion of the shells; +they felt their house shaking to its very foundations; when in the +midst of the night they saw their apartment as brilliantly lighted +as at mid-day by the flames which were consuming the Hotel de Ville +and the houses around the Place de la Bastille. And, in fact, the +rapid action of the troops alone saved Paris from destruction. +</P> +<P>But towards the end of the following week, matters had commenced to +quiet down; and Gilberte learned the return of Marius. +</P> + + +<H2>XX + +</H2><P>“At last it has been given to my eyes to contemplate him, and to my +arms to press him against my heart!” +</P> +<P>It was in these terms that the old Italian master, all vibrating +with enthusiasm, and with his most terrible accent, announced to +Mlle. Gilberte that he had just seen that famous pupil from whom he +expected both glory and fortune. +</P> +<P>“But how weak he is still!” he added, “and suffering from his wounds. +I hardly recognized him, he has grown so pale and so thin.” +</P> +<P>But the girl was listening to him no more. A flood of life filled +her heart. This moment made her forget all her troubles and all +her anguish. +</P> +<P>“And I too,” thought she, “shall see him again to-day.” +</P> +<P>And, with the unerring instinct of the woman who loves, she +calculated the moment when Marius would appear in Rue St. Gilles. +It would probably be about nightfall, like the first time, before +leaving; that is, about eight o'clock, for the days just then were +about the longest in the year. Now it so happened, that, on that +very day and hour, Mlle. Gilberte expected to be alone at home. +It was understood that her mother would, after dinner, call on +Mme. Desclavettes, who was in bed, half dead of the fright she had +had during the last convulsions of the Commune. She would therefore +be free and would not need to invent a pretext to go out for a few +moments. She could not help, however, but feel that this was a +bold and most venturesome step for her to take; and, when her mother +went out, she had not yet fully decided what to do. But her bonnet +was within reach, and Marius' letter was in her pocket. She went +to sit at the window. The street was solitary and silent as of +old. Night was coming; and heavy black clouds floated over Paris. +The heat was overpowering: there was not a breath of air. +</P> +<P>One by one, as the hour was approaching when she expected to see +Marius, the hesitations of the young girl vanished like smoke. She +feared but one thing,—that he would not come, or that he may +already have come and left, without succeeding in seeing her. +</P> +<P>Already did the objects become less distinct; and the gas was being +lit in the back-shops, when she recognized him on the other side of +the street. He looked up as he went by; and, without stopping, he +addressed her a rapid gesture, which she alone could understand, and +which meant, “Come, I beseech you!” +</P> +<P>Her heart beating loud enough to be heard, Mlle. Gilberte ran down +the stairs. But it was only when she found herself in the street +that she could appreciate the magnitude of the risk she was running. +Concierges and shopkeepers were all sitting in front of their doors, +taking the fresh air. All knew her. Would they not be surprised +to see her out alone at such an hour? Twenty steps in front of her +she could see Marius. But he had understood the danger; for, +instead of turning the corner of the Rue des Minimes, he followed +the Rue St. Gilles straight, and only stopped on the other side of +the Boulevard. +</P> +<P>Then only did Mlle. Gilberte join him; and she could not withhold +an exclamation, when she saw that he was as pale as death, and +scarcely able to stand and to walk. +</P> +<P>“How imprudent of you to have returned so soon!” she said. +</P> +<P>A little blood came to M. de Tregars' cheeks. His face brightened +up, and, in a voice quivering with suppressed passion, +</P> +<P>“It would have been more imprudent still to stay away,” he uttered. +“Far from you, I felt myself dying.” +</P> +<P>They were both leaning against the door of a closed shop; and they +were as alone in the midst of the throng that circulated on the +Boulevards, busy looking at the fearful wrecks of the Commune. +</P> +<P>“And besides,” added Marius, “have I, then, a minute to lose? I +asked you for three years. Fifteen months have gone, and I am no +better off than on the first day. When this accursed war broke out, +all my arrangements were made. I was certain to rapidly accumulate +a sufficient fortune to enable me to ask for your hand without being +refused. Whereas now—” +</P> +<P>“Well?” +</P> +<P>“Now every thing is changed. The future is so uncertain, that no +one wishes to venture their capital. Marcolet himself, who certainly +does not lack boldness, and who believes firmly in the success of our +enterprise, was telling me yesterday, ‘There is nothing to be done +just now: we must wait.’” +</P> +<P>There was in his voice such an intensity of grief, that the girl +felt the tears coming to her eyes. +</P> +<P>“We will wait then,” she said, attempting to smile. +</P> +<P>But M. de Tregars shook his head. +</P> +<P>“Is it possible?” he said. “Do you, then, think that I do not know +what a life you lead?” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte looked up. +</P> +<P>“Have I ever complained?” she asked proudly. +</P> +<P>“No. Your mother and yourself, you have always religiously kept the +secret of your tortures; and it was only a providential accident +that revealed them to me. But I learned every thing at last. I know +that she whom I love exclusively and with all the power of my soul is +subjected to the most odious despotism, insulted, and condemned to +the most humiliating privations. And I, who would give my life for +her a thousand times over,—I can do nothing for her. Money raises +between us such an insuperable obstacle, that my love is actually an +offence. To hear from her, I am driven to accept accomplices. If I +obtain from her a few moments of conversation, I run the risk of +compromising her maidenly reputation.” +</P> +<P>Deeply affected by his emotion: +</P> +<P>“At least,” said Mlle. Gilberte, “you succeeded in delivering me +from M. Costeclar.” +</P> +<P>“Yes, I was fortunately able to find weapons against that scoundrel. +But can I find some against all others that may offer? Your father +is very rich; and the men are numerous for whom marriage is but a +speculation like any other.” +</P> +<P>“Would you doubt me?” +</P> +<P>“Ah, rather would I doubt myself! But I know what cruel trials your +refusal to marry M. Costeclar imposed upon you: I know what a +merciless struggle you had to sustain. Another pretender may come, +and then—No, no, you see that we cannot wait.” +</P> +<P>“What would you do?” +</P> +<P>“I know not. I have not yet decided upon my future course. And yet +Heaven knows what have been the labors of my mind during that long +month I have just spent upon an ambulance-bed, that month during +which you were my only thought. Ah! when I think of it, I cannot +find words to curse the recklessness with which I disposed of my +fortune.” +</P> +<P>As if she had heard a blasphemy, the young girl drew back a step. +</P> +<P>“It is impossible,” she exclaimed, “that you should regret having +paid what your father owed.” +</P> +<P>A bitter smile contracted M. de Tregars' lips. +</P> +<P>“And suppose I were to tell you,” he replied, “that my father in +reality owed nothing?” +</P> +<P>“Oh!” +</P> +<P>“Suppose I told you they took from him his entire fortune, over two +millions, as audaciously as a pick-pocket robs a man of his +handkerchief? Suppose I told you, that, in his loyal simplicity, +he was but a man of straw in the hands of skillful knaves? Have you +forgotten what you once heard the Count de Villegre say?” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte had forgotten nothing. +</P> +<P>“The Count de Villegre,” she replied, “pretended that it was time +enough still to compel the men who had robbed your father to +disgorge.” +</P> +<P>“Exactly!” exclaimed Marius. “And now I am determined to make them +disgorge.” +</P> +<P>In the mean time night had quite come. Lights appeared in the +shop-windows; and along the line of the Boulevard the gas-lamps were +being lit. Alarmed by this sudden illumination, M. de Tregars drew +off Mlle. Gilberte to a more obscure spot, by the stairs that lead +to the Rue Amelot; and there, leaning against the iron railing, he +went on, +</P> +<P>“Already, at the time of my father's death, I suspected the +abominable tricks of which he was the victim. I thought it unworthy +of me to verify my suspicions. I was alone in the world: my wants +were few. I was fully convinced that my researches would give me, +within a brief time, a much larger fortune than the one I gave up. +I found something noble and grand, and which flattered my vanity, +in thus abandoning every thing, without discussion, without +litigation, and consummating my ruin with a single dash of my pen. +Among my friends the Count de Villegre alone had the courage to tell +me that this was a guilty piece of folly; that the silence of the +dupes is the strength of the knaves; that my indifference, which +made the rascals rich, would make them laugh too. I replied that I +did not wish to see the name of Tregars dragged into court in a +scandalous law-suit, and that to preserve a dignified silence was +to honor my father's memory. Treble fool that I was! The only way +to honor my father's memory was to avenge him, to wrest his spoils +from the scoundrels who had caused his death. I see it clearly +to-day. But, before undertaking any thing, I wished to consult you.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte was listening with the most intense attention. She +had come to mingle so completely in her thoughts her future life and +that of M. de Tregars, that she saw nothing unusual in the fact of +his consulting her upon matters affecting their prospects, and of +seeing herself standing there deliberating with him. +</P> +<P>“You will require proofs,” she suggested. +</P> +<P>“I have none, unfortunately,” replied M. de Tregars; “at least, none +sufficiently positive, and such as are required by courts of justice. +But I think I may find them. My former suspicions have become a +certainty. The same good luck that enabled me to deliver you of M. +Costeclar's persecutions, also placed in my hands the most valuable +information.” +</P> +<P>“Then you must act,” uttered Mlle. Gilberte resolutely. +</P> +<P>Marius hesitated for a moment, as if seeking expression to convey +what he had still to say. Then, +</P> +<P>“It is my duty,” he proceeded, “to conceal nothing from you. The +task is a heavy one. The obscure schemers of ten years ago have +become big financiers, intrenched behind their money-bags as behind +an impregnable fort. Formerly isolated, they have managed to gather +around them powerful interests, accomplices high in office, and +friends whose commanding situation protects them. Having succeeded, +they are absolved. They have in their favor what is called public +consideration,—that idiotic thing which is made up of the admiration +of the fools, the approbation of the knaves, and the concert of all +interested vanities. When they pass, their horses at full trot, +their carriage raising a cloud of dust, insolent, impudent, swelled +with the vulgar fatuity of wealth, people bow to the ground, and say, +‘Those are smart fellows!’ And in fact, yes, by skill or luck, they +have hitherto avoided the police-courts where so many others have +come to grief. Those who despise them fear them, and shake hands +with them. Moreover, they are rich enough not to steal any more +themselves. They have employes to do that. I take Heaven to witness +that never until lately had the idea come to me to disturb in their +possession the men who robbed my father. Alone, what need had I of +money? Later, O my friend! I thought I could succeed in conquering +the fortune I needed to obtain your hand. You had promised to wait; +and I was happy to think that I should owe you to my sole exertions. +Events have crushed my hopes. I am to-day compelled to acknowledge +that all my efforts would be in vain. To wait would be to run the +risk of losing you. Therefore I hesitate no longer. I want what's +mine: I wish to recover that of which I have been robbed. Whatever +I may do,—for, alas! I know not to what I may be driven, what +role I may have to play,—remember that of all my acts, of all my +thoughts, there will not be a single one that does not aim to bring +nearer the blessed day when you shall become my wife.” +</P> +<P>There was in his voice so much unspeakable affection, that the young +girl could hardly restrain her tears. +</P> +<P>“Never, whatever may happen, shall I doubt you, Marius,” she uttered. +</P> +<P>He took her hands, and, pressing them passionately within his, +</P> +<P>“And I,” he exclaimed, “I swear, that, sustained by the thought of +you, there is no disgust that I will not overcome, no obstacle that +I will not overthrow.” +</P> +<P>He spoke so loud, that two or three persons stopped. He noticed it, +and was brought suddenly from sentiment to the reality, +</P> +<P>“Wretches that we are,” he said in a low voice, and very fast, “we +forget what this interview may cost us!” +</P> +<P>And he led Mlle. Gilberte across the Boulevard; and, whilst making +their way to the Rue St. Gilles, through the deserted streets, +</P> +<P>“It is a dreadful imprudence we have just committed,” resumed M. de +Tregars. “But it was indispensable that we should see each other; +and we had not the choice of means. Now, and for a long time, we +shall be separated. Every thing you wish me to know,—say it to +that worthy Gismondo, who repeats faithfully to me every word you +utter. Through him, also, you shall hear from me. Twice a week, +on Tuesdays and Fridays, about nightfall, I shall pass by your house; +and, if I am lucky enough to have a glimpse of you, I shall return +home fired with fresh energy. Should any thing extraordinary +happen, beckon to me, and I'll wait for you in the Rue des Minimes. +But this is an expedient to which we must only resort in the last +extremity. I should never forgive myself, were I to compromise your +fair name.” +</P> +<P>They had reached the Rue St. Gilles. Marius stopped. +</P> +<P>“We must part,” he began. +</P> +<P>But then only Mlle. Gilberte remembered M. de Tregars' letter, which +she had in her pocket. Taking it out, and handing it to him, +</P> +<P>“Here,” she said, “is the package you deposited with me.” +</P> +<P>“No,” he answered, repelling her gently, “keep that letter: it must +never be opened now, except by the Marquise de Tregars.” +</P> +<P>And raising her hand to his lips, and in a deeply agitated voice, +</P> +<P>“Farewell!” he murmured. “Have courage, and have hope.” +</P> + + +<H2>XXI + +</H2><P>Mlle. Gilberte was soon far away; and Marius de Tregars remained +motionless at the corner of the street, following her with his eyes +through the darkness. +</P> +<P>She was walking fast, staggering over the rough pavement. Leaving +Marius, she fell back upon the earth from the height of her dreams. +The deceiving illusion had vanished, and, returned to the world of +sad reality, she was seized with anxiety. +</P> +<P>How long had she been out? She knew not, and found it impossible +to reckon. But it was evidently getting late; for some of the shops +were already closing. +</P> +<P>Meantime, she had reached the house. Stepping back, and looking up, +she saw that there was light in the parlor. +</P> +<P>“Mother has returned,” she thought, trembling with apprehension. +</P> +<P>She hurried up, nevertheless; and, just as she reached the landing, +Mme. Favoral opened the door, preparing to go down. +</P> +<P>“At last you are restored to me!” exclaimed the poor mother, whose +sinister apprehensions were revealed by that single exclamation. “I +was going out to look for you at random,—in the streets, anywhere.” +</P> +<P>And, drawing her daughter within the parlor, she clasped her in her +arms with convulsive tenderness, exclaiming, +</P> +<P>“Where were you? Where do you come from? Do you know that it is +after nine o'clock?” +</P> +<P>Such had been Mlle. Gilberte's state of mind during the whole of +that evening, that she had not even thought of finding a pretext +to justify her absence. Now it was too late. Besides, what +explanation would have been plausible? Instead, therefore, of +answering, +</P> +<P>“Why, dear mother,” she said with a forced smile, “has it not +happened to me twenty times to go out in the neighborhood?” +</P> +<P>But Mme. Favoral's confiding credulity existed no longer. +</P> +<P>“I have been blind, Gilberte,” she interrupted; “but this time my +eyes must open to evidence. There is in your life a mystery, +something extraordinary, which I dare not try to guess.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte drew herself up, and, looking her mother straight in +the eyes, with her beautiful, clear glance, +</P> +<P>“Would you suspect me of something wrong, then?” she exclaimed. +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral stopped her with a gesture. +</P> +<P>“A young girl who conceals something from her mother always does +wrong,” she uttered. “It is a long while since I have had for the +first time the presentiment that you were hiding something from me. +But, when I questioned you, you succeeded in quieting my suspicions. +You have abused my confidence and my weakness.” +</P> +<P>This reproach was the most cruel that could be addressed to Mlle. +Gilberte. The blood rushed to her face, and, in a firm voice, +</P> +<P>“Well, yes,” said she: “I have a secret.” +</P> +<P>“Dear me!” +</P> +<P>“And, if I did not confide it to you, it is because it is also the +secret of another. Yes, I confess it, I have been imprudent in the +extreme; I have stepped beyond all the limits of propriety and social +custom; I have exposed myself to the worst calumnies. But never,—I +swear it,—never have I done any thing of which my conscience can +reproach me, nothing that I have to blush for, nothing that I regret, +nothing that I am not ready to do again to-morrow.” +</P> +<P>“I said nothing, 'tis true; but it was my duty. Alone I had to +suffer the responsibility of my acts. Having alone freely engaged +my future, I wished to bear alone the weight of my anxiety. I should +never have forgiven myself for having added this new care to all your +other sorrows.” +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral stood dismayed. Big tears rolled down her withered +cheeks. +</P> +<P>“Don't you see, then,” she stammered, “that all my past suffering is +as nothing compared to what I endure to-day? Good heavens! what have +I ever done to deserve so many trials? Am I to be spared none of the +troubles of this world? And it is through my own daughter that I am +the most cruelly stricken!” +</P> +<P>This was more than Mlle. Gilberte could bear. Her heart was breaking +at the sight of her mother's tears, that angel of meekness and +resignation. Throwing her arms around her neck, and kissing her on +the eyes, +</P> +<P>“Mother,” she murmured, “adored mother, I beg of you do not weep +thus! Speak to me! What do you wish me to do?” +</P> +<P>Gently the poor woman drew back. +</P> +<P>“Tell me the truth,” she answered. +</P> +<P>Was it not certain that this was the very thing she would ask; in +fact, the only thing she could ask? Ah! how much would the young +girl have preferred one of her father's violent scenes, and +brutalities which would have exalted her energy, instead of +crushing it! +</P> +<P>Attempting to gain time, +</P> +<P>“Well, yes,” she answered, “I'll tell you every thing, mother, but +not now, to-morrow, later.” +</P> +<P>She was about to yield, however, when her father's arrival cut +short their conversation. +</P> +<P>The cashier of the Mutual Credit was quite lively that night. He +was humming a tune, a thing which did not happen to him four times +a year, and which was indicative of the most extreme satisfaction. +But he stopped short at the sight of the disturbed countenance of his +wife and daughter. +</P> +<P>“What is the matter?” he inquired. +</P> +<P>“Nothing,” hastily answered Mlle. Gilberte,—“nothing at all, +father.” +</P> +<P>“Then you are crying for your amusement,” he said. “Come, be candid +for once, and confess that Maxence has been at his tricks again!” +</P> +<P>“You are mistaken, father: I swear it!” +</P> +<P>He asked no further questions, being in his nature not very curious, +whether because family matters were of so little consequence to him, +or because he had a vague idea that his general behavior deprived +him of all right to their confidence. +</P> +<P>“Very well, then,” he said in a gruff tone, “let us all go to bed. +I have worked so hard to-day, that I am quite exhausted. People +who pretend that business is dull make me laugh. Never has M. de +Thaller been in the way of making so much money as now.” +</P> +<P>When he spoke, they obeyed. So that Mlle. Gilberte was thus going +to have the whole night before her to resume possession of herself, +to pass over in her mind the events of the evening, and deliberate +coolly upon the decision she must come to; for, she could not doubt +it, Mme. Favoral would, the very next day, renew her questions. +</P> +<P>What should she say? All? Mlle. Gilberte felt disposed to do so +by all the aspirations of her heart, by the certainty of indulgent +complicity, by the thought of finding in a sympathetic soul the echo +of her joys, of her troubles, and of her hopes. +</P> +<P>Yes. But Mme. Favoral was still the same woman, whose firmest +resolutions vanished under the gaze of her husband. Let a pretender +come; let a struggle begin, as in the case of M. Costeclar,—would +she have strength enough to remain silent? No! +</P> +<P>Then it would be a fearful scene with M. Favoral. He might, +perhaps, even go to M. de Tregars. What scandal! For he was a man +who spared no one; and then a new obstacle would rise between them, +more insurmountable still than the others. +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte was thinking, too, of Marius's projects; of that +terrible game he was about to play, the issue of which was to decide +their fate. He had said enough to make her understand all its +perils, and that a single indiscretion might suffice to set at +nought the result of many months' labor and patience. Besides, to +speak, was it not to abuse Marius's confidence. How could she +expect another to keep a secret she had been unable to keep herself? +</P> +<P>At last, after protracted and painful hesitation, she decided that +she was bound to silence, and that she would only vouchsafe the +vaguest explanations. +</P> +<P>It was in vain, then, that, on the next and the following days, +Mme. Favoral tried to obtain that confession which she had seen, +as it were, rise to her daughter's lips. To her passionate +adjurations, to her tears, to her ruses even, Mlle. Gilberte +invariably opposed equivocal answers, a story through which nothing +could be guessed, save one of those childish romances which stop +at the preface,—a schoolgirl love for a chimerical hero. +</P> +<P>There was nothing in this very reassuring to a mother; but Mme. +Favoral knew her daughter too well to hope to conquer her invincible +obstinacy. She insisted no more, appeared convinced, but resolved +to exercise the utmost vigilance. In vain, however, did she display +all the penetration of which she was capable. The severest +attention did not reveal to her a single suspicious fact, not a +circumstance from which she could draw an induction, until, at last, +she thought that she must have been mistaken. +</P> +<P>The fact is, that Mlle. Gilberte had not been long in feeling +herself watched; and she observed herself with a tenacious +circumspection that could hardly have been expected of her resolute +and impatient nature. She had trained herself to a sort of cheerful +carelessness, to which she strictly adhered, watching every +expression of her countenance, and avoiding carefully those hours +of vague revery in which she formerly indulged. +</P> +<P>For two successive weeks, fearing to be betrayed by her looks, she +had the courage not to show herself at the window at the hour when +she knew Marius would pass. Moreover, she was very minutely +informed of the alternatives of the campaign undertaken by M. de +Tregars. +</P> +<P>More enthusiastic than ever about his pupil, the Signor Gismondo +Pulei never tired of singing his praise, and with such pomp of +expression, and so curious an exuberance of gesticulation, that Mme. +Favoral was much amused; and, on the days when she was present at +her daughter's lesson, she was the first to inquire, +</P> +<P>“Well, how is that famous pupil?” +</P> +<P>And, according to what Marius had told him, +</P> +<P>“He is swimming in the purest satisfaction,” answered the candid +maestro. “Every thing succeeds miraculously well, and much beyond +his hopes.” +</P> +<P>Or else, knitting his brows— +</P> +<P>“He was sad yesterday,” he said, “owing to an unexpected +disappointment; but he does not lose courage. We shall succeed.” +</P> +<P>The young girl could not help smiling to see her mother assisting +thus the unconscious complicity of the Signor Gismondo. Then she +reproached herself for having smiled, and for having thus come, +through a gradual and fatal descent, to laugh at a duplicity at +which she would have blushed in former times. In spite of herself, +however, she took a passionate interest in the game that was being +played between her mother and herself, and of which her secret was +the stake. It was an ever-palpitating interest in her hitherto +monotonous life, and a source of constantly-renewed emotions. +</P> +<P>The days became weeks, and the weeks months; and Mme. Favoral +relaxed her useless surveillance, and, little by little, gave it +up almost entirely. She still thought, that, at a certain moment, +something unusual had occurred to her daughter; but she felt +persuaded, that, whatever that was, it had been forgotten. +</P> +<P>So that, on the stated days, Mlle. Gilberte could go and lean upon +the window, without fear of being called to account for the emotion +which she felt when M. de Tregars appeared. At the expected hour, +invariably, and with a punctuality to shame M. Favoral himself, he +turned the corner of the Rue Turenne, exchanged a rapid glance with +the young girl, and passed on. +</P> +<P>His health was completely restored; and with it he had recovered +that graceful virility which results from the perfect blending of +suppleness and strength. But he no longer wore the plain garments +of former days. He was dressed now with that elegant simplicity +which reveals at first sight that rarest of objects,—a “perfect +gentleman.” And, whilst she accompanied him with her eyes as he +walked towards the Boulevard, she felt thoughts of joy and pride +rising from the bottom of her soul. +</P> +<P>“Who would ever imagine,” thought she, “that this young gentleman +walking away yonder is my affianced husband, and that the day is +perhaps not far, when, having become his wife, I shall lean upon +his arm? Who would think that all my thoughts belong to him, that +it is for my sake that he has given up the ambition of his life, +and is now prosecuting another object? Who would suspect that it +is for Gilberte Favoral's sake that the Marquis de Tregars is +walking in the Rue St. Gilles?” +</P> +<P>And, indeed, Marius did deserve some credit for these walks; for +winter had come, spreading a thick coat of mud over the pavement +of all those little streets which are always forgotten by the +street-cleaners. +</P> +<P>The cashier's home had resumed its habits of before the war, its +drowsy monotony scarcely disturbed by the Saturday dinner, by M. +Desclavettes' naivetes or old Desormeaux's puns. +</P> +<P>Maxence, in the mean time, had ceased to live with his parents. He +had returned to Paris immediately after the Commune; and, feeling no +longer in the humor to submit to the paternal despotism, he had +taken a small apartment on the Boulevard du Temple; but, at the +pressing instance of his mother, he had consented to come every +night to dine at the Rue St. Gilles. +</P> +<P>Faithful to his oath, he was working hard, though without getting +on very fast. The moment was far from propitious; and the occasion, +which he had so often allowed to escape, did not offer itself again. +For lack of any thing better, he had kept his clerkship at the +railway; and, as two hundred francs a month were not quite sufficient +for his wants, he spent a portion of his nights copying documents +for M. Chapelain's successor. +</P> +<P>“What do you need so much money for?” his mother said to him when +she noticed his eyes a little red. +</P> +<P>“Every thing is so dear!” he answered with a smile, which was +equivalent to a confidence, and yet which Mme. Favoral did not +understand. +</P> +<P>He had, nevertheless, managed to pay all his debts, little by +little. The day when, at last, he held in his hand the last +receipted bill, he showed it proudly to his father, begging him to +find him a place at the Mutual Credit, where, with infinitely less +trouble, he could earn so much more. +</P> +<P>M. Favoral commenced to giggle. +</P> +<P>“Do you take me for a fool, like your mother?” he exclaimed. “And +do you think I don't know what life you lead?” +</P> +<P>“My life is that of a poor devil who works as hard as he can.” +</P> +<P>“Indeed! How is it, then, that women are constantly seen at your +house, whose dresses and manners are a scandal in the neighborhood?” +</P> +<P>“You have been deceived, father.” +</P> +<P>“I have seen.” +</P> +<P>“It is impossible. Let me explain.” +</P> +<P>“No, you would have your trouble for nothing. You are, and you will +ever remain, the same; and it would be folly on my part to introduce +into an office where I enjoy the esteem of all, a fellow, who, some +day or other, will be fatally dragged into the mud by some lost +creature.” +</P> +<P>Such discussions were not calculated to make the relations between +father and son more cordial. Several times M. Favoral had +insinuated, that, since Maxence lodged away from home, he might as +well dine away too. And he would evidently have notified him to +do so, had he not been prevented by a remnant of human respect, +and the fear of gossip. +</P> +<P>On the other hand, the bitter regret of having, perhaps, spoiled +his life, the uncertainty of the future, the penury of the moment, +all the unsatisfied desires of youth, kept Maxence in a state of +perpetual irritation. +</P> +<P>The excellent Mme. Favoral exhausted all her arguments to quiet him. +</P> +<P>“Your father is harsh for us,” she said; “but is he less harsh for +himself? He forgives nothing; but he has never needed to be +forgiven himself. He does not understand youth, but he has never +been young himself; and at twenty he was as grave and as cold as +you see him now. How could he know what pleasure is?—he to whom +the idea has never come to take an hour's enjoyment.” +</P> +<P>“Have I, then, been guilty of any crimes, to be thus treated by my +father?” exclaimed Maxence, flushed with anger. “Our existence here +is an unheard-of thing. You, poor, dear mother!—you have never +had the free disposition of a five-franc-piece. Gilberte spends +her days turning her dresses, after having had them dyed. I am +driven to a petty clerkship. And my father has fifty thousand +francs a year!” +</P> +<P>Such, indeed, was the figure at which the most moderate estimated +M. Favoral's fortune. M. Chapelain, who was supposed to be well +informed, insinuated freely that his friend Vincent, besides being +the cashier of the Mutual Credit, must also be one of its principal +stock-holders. Now, judging from the dividend which had just been +paid, the Mutual Credit must, since the war, have realized enormous +profits. All its enterprises were successful; and it was on the +point of negotiating a foreign loan which would infallibly fill its +exchequer to overflowing. +</P> +<P>M. Favoral, moreover, defended himself feebly from these accusations +of concealed opulence. When M. Desormeaux told him, “Come, now, +between us, candidly, how many millions have you?” he had such a +strange way of affirming that people were very much mistaken, that +his friends' convictions became only the more settled. And, as +soon as they had a few thousand francs of savings, they promptly +brought them to him, imitated in this by a goodly number of the +small capitalists of the neighborhood, who were wont to remark +among themselves, +</P> +<P>“That man is safer than the bank!” +</P> +<P>Millionaire or otherwise, the cashier of the Mutual Credit became +daily more difficult to live with. If strangers, those who had +with him but a superficial intercourse, if the Saturday guests +themselves, discovered in him no appreciable change, his wife and +his children followed with anxious surprise the modifications of +his humor. +</P> +<P>If outwardly he still appeared the same impassible, precise, and +grave man, he showed himself at home more fretful than an old maid, +—nervous, agitated, and subject to the oddest whims. After +remaining three or four days without opening his lips, he would +begin to speak upon all sorts of subjects with amazing volubility. +Instead of watering his wine freely, as formerly, he had begun to +drink it pure; and he often took two bottles at his meal, excusing +himself upon the necessity that he felt the need of stimulating +himself a little after his excessive labors. +</P> +<P>Then he would be taken with fits of coarse gayety; and he related +singular anecdotes, intermingled with slang expressions, which +Maxence alone could understand. +</P> +<P>On the morning of the first day of January, 1872, as he sat down +to breakfast, he threw upon the table a roll of fifty napoleons, +saying to his children, +</P> +<P>“Here is your New Year's gift! Divide, and buy anything you like.” +</P> +<P>And as they were looking at him, staring, stupid with astonishment, +</P> +<P>“Well, what of it?” he added with an oath. “Isn't it well, once in +a while, to scatter the coins a little?” +</P> +<P>Those unexpected thousand francs Maxence and Mlle. Gilberte applied +to the purchase of a shawl, which their mother had wished for +ten years. +</P> +<P>She laughed and she cried with pleasure and emotion, the poor woman; +and, whilst draping it over her shoulders, +</P> +<P>“Well, well, my dear children,” she said: “your father, after all, +is not such a bad man.” +</P> +<P>Of which they did not seem very well convinced. “One thing is sure,” +remarked Mlle. Gilberte: “to permit himself such liberality, papa +must be awfully rich.” +</P> +<P>M. Favoral was not present at this scene. The yearly accounts kept +him so closely confined to his office, that he remained forty-eight +hours without coming home. A journey which he was compelled to +undertake for M. de Thaller consumed the balance of the week. +</P> +<P>But on his return he seemed satisfied and quiet. Without giving up +his situation at the Mutual Credit, he was about, he stated, to +associate himself with the Messrs. Jottras, M. Saint Pavin of +“The Financial Pilot,” and M. Costeclar, to undertake the +construction of a foreign railway. +</P> +<P>M. Costeclar was at the head of this enterprise, the enormous +profits of which were so certain and so clear; that they could be +figured in advance. +</P> +<P>And whilst on this same subject, +</P> +<P>“You were very wrong,” he said to Mlle. Gilberte, “not to make haste +and marry Costeclar when he was willing to have you. You will never +find another such match,—a man who, before ten years, will be a +financial power.” +</P> +<P>The very name of M. Costeclar had the effect of irritating the young +girl. +</P> +<P>“I thought you had fallen out?” she said to her father. +</P> +<P>“So we had,” he replied with some embarrassment, “because he has +never been willing to tell me why he had withdrawn; but people +always make up again when they have interests in common.” +</P> +<P>Formerly, before the war, M. Favoral would certainly never have +condescended to enter into all these details. But he was becoming +almost communicative. Mlle. Gilberte, who was observing him with +interested attention, fancied she could see that he was yielding +to that necessity of expansion, more powerful than the will itself, +which besets the man who carries within him a weighty secret. +</P> +<P>Whilst for twenty years he had, so to speak, never breathed a word +on the subject of the Thaller family, now he was continually +speaking of them. He told his Saturday friends all about the +princely style of the baron, the number of his servants and horses, +the color of his liveries, the parties that he gave, what he spent +for pictures and objects of art, and even the very names of his +mistresses; for the baron had too much respect for himself not to +lay every year a few thousand napoleons at the feet of some young +lady sufficiently conspicuous to be mentioned in the society +newspapers. +</P> +<P>M. Favoral confessed that he did not approve the baron; but it was +with a sort of bitter hatred that he spoke of the baroness. It was +impossible, he affirmed to his guests, to estimate even approximately +the fabulous sums squandered by her, scattered, thrown to the four +winds. For she was not prodigal, she was prodigality itself,—that +idiotic, absurd, unconscious prodigality which melts a fortune in a +turn of the hand; which cannot even obtain from money the +satisfaction of a want, a wish, or a fancy. +</P> +<P>He said incredible things of her,—things which made Mme. +Desclavettes jump upon her seat, explaining that he learned all +these details from M. de Thaller, who had often commissioned him to +pay his wife's debts, and also from the baroness herself, who did +not hesitate to call sometimes at the office for twenty francs; for +such was her want of order, that, after borrowing all the savings +of her servants, she frequently had not two cents to throw to a +beggar. +</P> +<P>Neither did the cashier of the Mutual Credit seem to have a very +good opinion of Mademoiselle de Thaller. +</P> +<P>Brought up at hap-hazard, in the kitchen much more than in the +parlor, until she was twelve, and, later, dragged by her mother +anywhere,—to the races, to the first representations, to the +watering-places, always escorted by a squadron of the young men +of the bourse, Mlle. de Thaller had adopted a style which would +have been deemed detestable in a man. As soon as some questionable +fashion appeared, she appropriated it at once, never finding any +thing eccentric enough to make herself conspicuous. She rode on +horseback, fenced, frequented pigeon-shooting matches, spoke slang, +sang Theresa's songs, emptied neatly her glass of champagne, and +smoked her cigarette. +</P> +<P>The guests were struck dumb with astonishment. +</P> +<P>“But those people must spend millions!” interrupted M. Chapelain. +</P> +<P>M. Favoral started as if he had been slapped on the back. +</P> +<P>“Bash!” he answered. “They are so rich, so awfully rich!” +</P> +<P>He changed the conversation that evening; but on the following +Saturday, from the very beginning of the dinner, +</P> +<P>“I believe,” he said, “that M. de Thaller has just discovered a +husband for his daughter.” +</P> +<P>“My compliments!” exclaimed M. Desormeaux. “And who may this bold +fellow be?” +</P> +<P>“A nobleman, of course,” he replied. “Isn't that the tradition? +As soon as a financier has made his little million, he starts in +quest of a nobleman to give him his daughter.” +</P> +<P>One of those painful presentiments, such as arise in the inmost +recesses of the soul, made Mlle. Gilberte turn pale. This +presentiment suggested to her an absurd, ridiculous, unlikely thing; +and yet she was sure that it would not deceive her,—so sure, +indeed, that she rose under the pretext of looking for something in +the side-board, but in reality to conceal the terrible emotion which +she anticipated. +</P> +<P>“And this gentleman?” inquired M. Chapelain. +</P> +<P>“Is a marquis, if you please,—the Marquis de Tregars.” +</P> +<P>Well, yes, it was this very name that Mlle. Gilberte was expecting, +and well that she did; for she was thus able to command enough +control over herself to check the cry that rose to her throat. +</P> +<P>“But this marriage is not made yet,” pursued M. Favoral. “This +marquis is not yet so completely ruined, that he can be made to do +any thing they please. Sure, the baroness has set her heart upon +it, oh! but with all her might!” +</P> +<P>A discussion which now arose prevented Gilberte from learning any +more; and as soon as the dinner, which seemed eternal to her, was +over, she complained of a violent headache, and withdrew to her room. +</P> +<P>She shook with fever; her teeth chattered. And yet she could not +believe that Marius was betraying her, nor that he could have the +thought of marrying such a girl as M. Favoral had described, and +for money too! Poor, ah! No, that was not admissible. Although +she remembered well that Marius had made her swear to believe +nothing that might be said of him, she spent a horrible Sunday, +and she felt like throwing herself in the Signor Gismondo's arms, +when, in giving her his lesson the following Monday, +</P> +<P>“My poor pupil,” he said, “feels miserable. A marriage has been +spoken of for him, for which he has a perfect horror; and he trembles +lest the rumor may reach his intended, whom he loves exclusively.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte felt re-assured after that. And yet there remained +in her heart an invincible sadness. She could hardly doubt that +this matrimonial scheme was a part of the plan planned by Marius +to recover his fortune. But why, then, had he applied to M. de +Thaller? Who could be the man who had despoiled the Marquis de +Tregars? +</P> +<P>Such were the thoughts which occupied her mind on that Saturday +evening when the commissary of police presented himself in the Rue +St. Gilles to arrest M. Favoral, charged with embezzling ten or +twelve millions. +</P> + + +<H2>XXII + +</H2><P>The hour had now come for the denouement of that home tragedy which +was being enacted in the Rue St. Gilles. +</P> +<P>The reader will remember the incidents narrated at the beginning of +this story,—M. de Thaller's visit and angry words with M. Favoral, +his departure after leaving a package of bank-notes in Mlle. +Gilberte's hands, the advent of the commissary of police, M. +Favoral's escape, and finally the departure of the Saturday evening +guests. +</P> +<P>The disaster which struck Mme. Favoral and her children had been so +sudden and so crushing, that they had been, on the moment, too +stupefied to realize it. What had happened went so far beyond the +limits of the probable, of the possible even, that they could not +believe it. The too cruel scenes which had just taken place were +to them like the absurd incidents of a horrible nightmare. +</P> +<P>But when their guests had retired after a few commonplace +protestations, when they found themselves alone, all three, in that +house whose master had just fled, tracked by the police,—then +only, as the disturbed equilibrium of their minds became somewhat +restored, did they fully realize the extent of the disaster, and +the horror of the situation. +</P> +<P>Whilst Mme. Favoral lay apparently lifeless on an arm-chair, +Gilberte kneeling at her feet, Maxence was walking up and down the +parlor with furious steps. He was whiter than the plaster on the +halls; and a cold perspiration glued his tangled hair to his temples. +</P> +<P>His eyes glistening, and his fists clinched, +</P> +<P>“Our father a thief!” he kept repeating in a hoarse voice, “a forger!” +</P> +<P>And in fact never had the slightest suspicion arisen in his mind. +In these days of doubtful reputations, he had been proud indeed of +M. Favoral's reputation of austere integrity. And he had endured +many a cruel reproach, saying to himself that his father had, by his +own spotless conduct, acquired the right to be harsh and exacting. +</P> +<P>“And he has stolen twelve millions!” he exclaimed. +</P> +<P>And he went on, trying to calculate all the luxury and splendor +which such a sum represents, all the cravings gratified, all the +dreams realized, all it can procure of things that may be bought. +And what things are not for sale for twelve millions! +</P> +<P>Then he examined the gloomy home in the Rue St. Gilles,—the +contracted dwelling, the faded furniture, the prodigies of a +parsimonious industry, his mother's privations, his sister's penury, +and his own distress. And he exclaimed again, +</P> +<P>“It is a monstrous infamy!” +</P> +<P>The words of the commissary of police had opened his eyes; and he +now fancied the most wonderful things. M. Favoral, in his mind, +assumed fabulous proportions. By what miracles of hypocrisy and +dissimulation had he succeeded in making himself ubiquitous as it +were, and, without awaking a suspicion, living two lives so distinct +and so different,—here, in the midst of his family, parsimonious, +methodic, and severe; elsewhere, in some illicit household, +doubtless facile, smiling, and generous, like a successful thief. +</P> +<P>For Maxence considered the bills found in the secretary as a +flagrant, irrefutable and material proof. +</P> +<P>Upon the brink of that abyss of shame into which his father had just +tumbled, he thought he could see, not the inevitable woman, that +incentive of all human actions, but the entire legion of those +bewitching courtesans who possess unknown crucibles wherein to swell +fortunes, and who have secret filtres to stupefy their dupes, and +strip them of their honor, after robbing them of their last cent. +</P> +<P>“And I,” said Maxence,—“I, because at twenty I was fond of +pleasure, I was called a bad son! Because I had made some three +hundred francs of debts, I was deemed a swindler! Because I love +a poor girl who has for me the most disinterested affection, I am +one of those rascals whom their family disown, and from whom nothing +can be expected but shame and disgrace!” +</P> +<P>He filled the parlor with the sound of his voice, which rose like +his wrath. +</P> +<P>And at the thought of all the bitter reproaches which had been +addressed to him by his father, and of all the humiliations that +had been heaped upon him, +</P> +<P>“Ah, the wretch!” he fairly shrieked, “—the coward!” +</P> +<P>As pale as her brother, her face bathed in tears, and her beautiful +hair hanging undone, Mlle. Gilberte drew herself up. +</P> +<P>“He is our father, Maxence,” she said gently. +</P> +<P>But he interrupted her with a wild burst of laughter. “True,” he +answered; “and, by virtue of the law which is written in the code, +we owe him affection and respect.” +</P> +<P>“Maxence!” murmured the girl in a beseeching tone. But he went on, +nevertheless, +</P> +<P>“Yes, he is our father, unfortunately. But I should like to know +his titles to our respect and our affection. After making our +mother the most miserable of creatures, he has embittered our +existence, withered our youth, ruined my future, and done his best +to spoil yours by compelling you to marry Costeclar. And, to crown +all these deeds of kindness, he runs away now, after stealing twelve +millions, leaving us nothing but misery and a disgraced name. +</P> +<P>“And yet,” he added, “is it possible that a cashier should take +twelve millions, and his employer know nothing of it? And is our +father really the only man who benefitted by these millions?” +</P> +<P>Then came back to the mind of Maxence and Mlle. Gilberte the last +words of their father at the moment of his flight, +</P> +<P>“I have been betrayed; and I must suffer for all!” +</P> +<P>And his sincerity could hardly be called in question; for he was +then in one of those moments of decisive crisis in which the truth +forces itself out in spite of all calculation. +</P> +<P>“He must have accomplices then,” murmured Maxence. +</P> +<P>Although he had spoken very low, Mme. Favoral overheard him. To +defend her husband, she found a remnant of energy, and, straightening +herself on her seat, +</P> +<P>“Ah! do not doubt it,” she stammered out. “Of his own inspiration, +Vincent could never have committed an evil act. He has been +circumvented, led away, duped!” +</P> +<P>“Very well; but by whom?” +</P> +<P>“By Costeclar,” affirmed Mlle. Gilberte. +</P> +<P>“By the Messrs. Jottras, the bankers,” said Mme. Favoral, “and also +by M. Saint Pavin, the editor of ‘the Financial Pilot.’” +</P> +<P>“By all of them, evidently,” interrupted Maxence, “even by his +manager, M. de Thaller.” +</P> +<P>When a man is at the bottom of a precipice, what is the use of +finding out how he has got there,—whether by stumbling over a +stone, or slipping on a tuft of grass! And yet it is always our +foremost thought. It was with an eager obstinacy that Mme. Favoral +and her children ascended the course of their existence, seeking in +the past the incidents and the merest words which might throw some +light upon their disaster; for it was quite manifest that it was +not in one day and at the same time that twelve millions had been +subtracted from the Mutual Credit. This enormous deficit must have +been, as usual, made gradually, with infinite caution at first, +whilst there was a desire, and some hope, to make it good again, +then with mad recklessness towards the end when the catastrophe had +become inevitable. +</P> +<P>“Alas!” murmured Mme. Favoral, “why did not Vincent listen to my +presentiments on that ever fatal day when he brought M. de Thaller, +M. Jottras, and M. Saint Pavin to dine here? They promised him a +fortune.” +</P> +<P>Maxence and Mlle. Gilberte were too young at the time of that dinner +to have preserved any remembrance of it; but they remembered many +other circumstances, which, at the time they had taken place, had +not struck them. They understood now the temper of their father, +his perpetual irritation, and the spasms of his humor. When his +friends were heaping insults upon him, he had exclaimed, +</P> +<P>“Be it so! let them arrest me; and to-night, for the first time in +many years, I shall sleep in peace.” +</P> +<P>There were years, then, that he lived, as it were upon burning coals, +trembling at the fear of discovery, and wondering, as he went to +sleep each night, whether he would not be awakened by the rude hand +of the police tapping him on the shoulder. No one better than Mme. +Favoral could affirm it. +</P> +<P>“Your father, my children,” she said, “had long since lost his sleep. +There was hardly ever a night that he did not get up and walk the +room for hours.” +</P> +<P>They understood, now, his efforts to compel Mlle. Gilberte to marry +M. Costeclar. +</P> +<P>“He thought that Costeclar would help him out of the scrape,” +suggested Maxence to his sister. +</P> +<P>The poor girl shuddered at the thought, and she could not help +feeling thankful to her father for not having told her his situation; +for would she have had the sublime courage to refuse the sacrifice, +if her father had told her? +</P> +<P>“I have stolen! I am lost! Costeclar alone can save me; and he +will save me if you become his wife.” +</P> +<P>M. Favoral's pleasant behavior during the siege was quite natural. +Then he had no fears; and one could understand how in the most +critical hours of the Commune, when Paris was in flames, he could +have exclaimed almost cheerfully, +</P> +<P>“Ah! this time it is indeed the final liquidation.” +</P> +<P>Doubtless, in the bottom of his heart, he wished that Paris might +be destroyed, and, with it, the evidences of his crime. And +perhaps he was not the only one to form that impious wish. +</P> +<P>“That's why, then,” exclaimed Maxence,—“that's why my father +treated me so rudely: that's why he so obstinately persisted in +closing the offices of the Mutual Credit against me.” +</P> +<P>He was interrupted by a violent ringing of the door-bell. He looked +at the clock: ten o'clock was about to strike. +</P> +<P>“Who can call so late?” said Mme. Favoral. +</P> +<P>Something like a discussion was heard in the hall,—a voice hoarse +with anger, and the servant's voice. +</P> +<P>“Go and see who's there,” said Gilberte to her brother. +</P> +<P>It was useless; the servant appeared. +</P> +<P>“It's M. Bertan,” she commenced, “the baker—” He had followed her, +and, pushing her aside with his robust arm, he appeared himself. +He was a man about forty years of age, tall, thin, already bald, +and wearing his beard trimmed close. +</P> +<P>“M. Favoral?” he inquired. +</P> +<P>“My father is not at home,” replied Maxence. +</P> +<P>“It's true, then, what I have just been told?” +</P> +<P>“What?” +</P> +<P>“That the police came to arrest him, and he escaped through a window.” +</P> +<P>“It's true,” replied Maxence gently. +</P> +<P>The baker seemed prostrated. +</P> +<P>“And my money?” he asked. +</P> +<P>“What money?” +</P> +<P>“Why, my ten thousand francs! Ten thousand francs which I brought +to M. Favoral, in gold, you hear? in ten rolls, which I placed +there, on that very table, and for which he gave me a receipt. Here +it is,—his receipt.” +</P> +<P>He held out a paper; but Maxence did not take it. +</P> +<P>“I do not doubt your word, sir,” he replied; “but my father's +business is not ours.” +</P> +<P>“You refuse to give me back my money?” +</P> +<P>“Neither my mother, my sister, nor myself, have any thing.” +</P> +<P>The blood rushed to the man's face, and, with a tongue made thick +by anger, +</P> +<P>“And you think you are going to pay me off in that way?” he +exclaimed. “You have nothing! Poor little fellow! And will you +tell me, then, what has become of the twenty millions your father +has stolen? for he has stolen twenty millions. I know it: I have +been told so. Where are they?” +</P> +<P>“The police, sir, has placed the seals over my fathers papers.” +</P> +<P>“The police?” interrupted the baker, “the seals? What do I care +for that? It's my money I want: do you hear? Justice is going to +take a hand in it, is it? Arrest your father, try him? What good +will that do me? He will be condemned to two or three years' +imprisonment. Will that give me a cent? He will serve out his time +quietly; and, when he gets out of prison, he'll get hold of the pile +that he's got hidden somewhere; and while I starve, he'll spend my +money under my very nose. No, no! Things won't suit me that way. +It's at once that I want to be paid.” +</P> +<P>And throwing himself upon a chair his head back, and his legs +stretched forward— +</P> +<P>“And what's more,” he declared, “I am not going out of here until +I am paid.” +</P> +<P>It was not without the greatest efforts that Maxence managed to +keep his temper. +</P> +<P>“Your insults are useless, sir,” he commenced. +</P> +<P>The man jumped up from his seat. +</P> +<P>“Insults!” he cried in a voice that could have been heard all +through the house. “Do you call it an insult when a man claims his +own? If you think you can make me hush, you are mistaken in your +man, M. Favoral, Jun. I am not rich myself: my father has not +stolen to leave me an income. It is not in gambling at the bourse +that I made these ten thousand francs. It is by the sweat of my +body, by working hard night and day for years, by depriving myself +of a glass of wine when I was thirsty. And I am to lose them? By +the holy name of heaven, we'll have to see about that! If everybody +was like me, there would not be so many scoundrels going about, +their pockets filled with other people's money, and from the top of +their carriage laughing at the poor fools they have ruined. Come, +my ten thousand francs, canaille, or I take my pay on your back.” +</P> +<P>Maxence, enraged, was about to throw himself upon the man, and a +disgusting struggle was about to begin, when Mlle. Gilberte stepped +between them. +</P> +<P>“Your threats are as cowardly as your insults, Monsieur Bertan,” +she uttered in a quivering voice. “You have known us long enough +to be aware that we know nothing of our father's business, and that +we have nothing ourselves. All we can do is to give up to our +creditors our very last crumb. Thus it shall be done. And now, +sir, please retire.” +</P> +<P>There was so much dignity in her sorrow, and so imposing was her +attitude, that the baker stood abashed. +</P> +<P>“Ah! if that's the way,” he stammered awkwardly; “and since you +meddle with it, mademoiselle—” And he retreated precipitately, +growling at the same time threats and excuses, and slamming the +doors after him hard enough to break the partitions. +</P> +<P>“What a disgrace!” murmured Mme. Favoral. Crushed by this last +scene, she was choking; and her children had to carry her to the +open window. She recovered almost at once; but thus, through the +darkness, bleak and cold, she had like a vision of her husband; and, +throwing herself back, +</P> +<P>“O great heavens!” she uttered, “where did he go when he left us? +Where is he now? What is he doing? What has become of him?” +</P> +<P>Her married life had been for Mme. Favoral but a slow torture. It +was in vain that she would have looked back through her past life +for some of those happy days which leave their luminous track in +life, and towards which the mind turns in the hours of grief. +Vincent Favoral had never been aught but a brutal despot, abusing +the resignation of his victim. And yet, had he died, she would have +wept bitterly over him in all the sincerity of her honest and simple +soul. Habit! Prisoners have been known to shed tears over the +grave of their jailer. Then he was her husband, after all, the +father of her children, the only man who existed for her. For +twenty-six years they had never been separated: they had sat at the +same table: they had slept side by side. +</P> +<P>Yes, she would have wept over him. But how much less poignant would +her grief have been than at this moment, when it was complicated by +all the torments of uncertainty, and by the most frightful +apprehensions! +</P> +<P>Fearing lest she might take cold, her children had removed her to +the sofa, and there, all shivering, +</P> +<P>“Isn't it horrible,” she said, “not to know any thing of your father? +—to think that at this very moment, perhaps, pursued by the police, +he is wandering in despair through the streets, without daring to +ask anywhere for shelter.” +</P> +<P>Her children had no time to answer and comfort her; for at this +moment the door-bell rang again. +</P> +<P>“Who can it be now?” said Mme. Favoral with a start. +</P> +<P>This time there was no discussion in the hall. Steps sounded on the +floor of the dining-room; the door opened; and M. Desclavettes, the +old bronze-merchant, walked, or rather slipped into the parlor. +</P> +<P>Hope, fear, anger, all the sentiments which agitated his soul, could +be read on his pale and cat-like face. +</P> +<P>“It is I,” he commenced. +</P> +<P>Maxence stepped forward. +</P> +<P>“Have you heard any thing from my father, sir?” +</P> +<P>“No,” answered the old merchant, “I confess I have not; and I was +just coming to see if you had yourselves. Oh, I know very well that +this is not exactly the hour to call at a house; but I thought, +that, after what took place this evening, you would not be in bed +yet. I could not sleep myself. You understand a friendship of +twenty years' standing! So I took Mme. Desclavettes home, and here +I am.” +</P> +<P>“We feel very thankful for your kindness,” murmured Mme. Favoral. +</P> +<P>“I am glad you do. The fact is, you see, I take a good deal of +interest in the misfortune that strikes you,—a greater interest +than any one else. For, after all, I, too, am a victim. I had +intrusted one hundred and twenty thousand francs to our dear Vincent.” +</P> +<P>“Alas, sir!” said Mlle. Gilberte. +</P> +<P>But the worthy man did not allow her to proceed. “I have no fault +to find with him,” he went on—“absolutely none. Why, dear me! +haven't I been in business myself? and don't I know what it is? +First, we borrow a thousand francs or so from the cash account, +then ten thousand, then a hundred thousand. Oh! without any bad +intention, to be sure, and with the firm resolution to return them. +But we don't always do what we wish to do. Circumstances sometimes +work against us, if we operate at the bourse to make up the deficit +we lose. Then we must borrow again, draw from Peter to pay Paul. +We are afraid of being caught: we are compelled, reluctantly of +course, to alter the books. At last a day comes when we find that +millions are gone, and the bomb-shell bursts. Does it follow from +this that a man is dishonest? Not the least in the world: he is +simply unlucky.” +</P> +<P>He stopped, as if awaiting an answer; but, as none came, he resumed, +</P> +<P>“I repeat, I have no fault to find with Favoral. Only then, now, +between us, to lose these hundred and twenty thousand francs would +simply be a disaster for me. I know very well that both Chapelain +and Desormeaux had also deposited funds with Favoral. But they are +rich: one of them owns three houses in Paris, and the other has a +good situation; whereas I, these hundred and twenty thousand francs +gone, I'd have nothing left but my eyes to weep with. My wife is +dying about it. I assure you our position is a terrible one.” +</P> +<P>To M. Desclavettes,—as to the baker a few moments before, +</P> +<P>“We have nothing,” said Maxence. +</P> +<P>“I know it,” exclaimed the old merchant. “I know it as well as you +do yourself. And so I have come to beg a little favor of you, which +will cost you nothing. When you see Favoral, remember me to him, +explain my situation to him, and try to make him give me back my +money. He is a hard one to fetch, that's a fact. But if you go +right about it, above all, if our dear Gilberte will take the matter +in hand.” +</P> +<P>“Sir!” +</P> +<P>“Oh! I swear I sha'n't say a word about it, either to Desormeaux +or Chapelain, nor to any one else. Although reimbursed, I'll make +as much noise as the rest,—more noise, even. Come, now, my dear +friends, what do you say?” +</P> +<P>He was almost crying. +</P> +<P>“And where the deuse,” exclaimed Maxence, “do you expect my father +to take a hundred and twenty thousand francs? Didn't you see him go +without even taking the money that M. de Thaller had brought?” +</P> +<P>A smile appeared upon M. Desclavettes' pale lips. +</P> +<P>“That will do very well to say, my dear Maxence;” he said, “and +some people may believe it. But don't say it to your old friend, +who knows too much about business for that. When a man puts off, +after borrowing twelve millions from his employers, he would be a +great fool if he had not put away two or three in safety. Now, +Favoral is not a fool.” +</P> +<P>Tears of shame and anger started from Mlle. Gilberte's eyes. +</P> +<P>“What you are saying is abominable, sir!” she exclaimed. +</P> +<P>He seemed much surprised at this outburst of violence. +</P> +<P>“Why so?” he answered. “In Vincent's place, I should not have +hesitated to do what he has certainly done. And I am an honest man +too. I was in business for twenty years; and I dare any one to +prove that a note signed Desclavettes ever went to protest. And +so, my dear friends, I beseech you, consent to serve your old +friend, and, when you see your father—” +</P> +<P>The old man's tone of voice exasperated even Mme. Favoral herself. +</P> +<P>“We never expect to see my husband again,” she uttered. +</P> +<P>He shrugged his shoulders, and, in a tone of paternal reproach, +</P> +<P>“You just give up all such ugly ideas,” he said. “You will see him +again, that dear Vincent; for he is much too sharp to allow himself +to be caught. Of course, he'll stay away as long as it may be +necessary; but, as soon as he can return without danger, he will +do so. The Statute of Limitations has not been invented for the +Grand Turk. Why, the Boulevard is crowded with people who have all +had their little difficulty, and who have spent five or ten years +abroad for their health. Does any one think any thing of it? Not +in the least; and no one hesitates to shake hands with them. +Besides, those things are so soon forgotten.” +</P> +<P>He kept on as if he never intended to stop; and it was not without +trouble that Maxence and Gilberte succeeded in sending him off, very +much dissatisfied to see his request so ill received. It was after +twelve o'clock. Maxence was anxious to return to his own home; but, +at the pressing instances of his mother, he consented to remain, +and threw himself, without undressing, on the bed in his old room. +</P> +<P>“What will the morrow bring forth?” he thought. +</P> + + +<H2>XXIII + +</H2><P>After a few hours of that leaden sleep which follows great +catastrophes, Mme. Favoral and her children were awakened on the +morning of the next day, which was Sunday, by the furious clamors +of an exasperated crowd. Each one, from his own room, understood +that the apartment had just been invaded. Loud blows upon the door +were mingled with the noise of feet, the oaths of men, and the +screams of women. And, above this confused and continuous tumult, +such vociferations as these could be heard: +</P> +<P>“I tell you they must be at home!” +</P> +<P>“Canailles, swindlers, thieves!” +</P> +<P>“We want to go in: we will go in!” +</P> +<P>“Let the woman come, then: we want to see her, to speak to her!” +</P> +<P>Occasionally there were moments of silence, during which the +plaintive voice of the servant could be heard; but almost at once +the cries and the threats commenced again, louder than ever. +Maxence, being ready first, ran to the parlor, where his mother and +sister joined him directly, their eyes swollen by sleep and by tears. +Mme. Favoral was trembling so much that she could not succeed in +fastening her dress. +</P> +<P>“Do you hear?” she said in a choking voice. +</P> +<P>From the parlor, which was divided from the dining-room by +folding-doors, they did not miss a single insult. +</P> +<P>“Well,” said Mlle. Gilberte coldly, “what else could we expect? If +Bertan came alone last night, it is because he alone had been +notified. Here are the others now.” +</P> +<P>And, turning to her brother, +</P> +<P>“You must see them,” she added, “speak to them.” +</P> +<P>But Maxence did not stir. The idea of facing the insults and the +curses of these enraged creditors was too repugnant to him. +</P> +<P>“Would you rather let them break in the door?” said Mlle. Gilberte. +“That won't take long.” +</P> +<P>He hesitated no more. Gathering all his courage, he stepped into +the dining-room. The disorder was beyond limits. The table had +been pushed towards one of the corners, the chairs were upset. +They were there some thirty men and women,—concierges, +shop-keepers, and retired bourgeois of the neighborhood, their +cheeks flushed, their eyes staring, gesticulating as if they had a +fit, shaking their clinched fists at the ceiling. +</P> +<P>“Gentlemen,” commenced Maxence. +</P> +<P>But his voice was drowned by the most frightful shouts. He had +hardly got in, when he was so closely surrounded, that he had been +unable to close the parlor-door after him, and had been driven and +backed against the embrasure of a window. +</P> +<P>“My father, gentlemen,” he resumed. +</P> +<P>Again he was interrupted. There were three or four before him, who +were endeavoring before all to establish their own claims clearly. +</P> +<P>They were speaking all at once, each one raising his own voice so +as to drown that of the others. And yet, through their confused +explanations, it was easy to understand the way in which the cashier +of the Mutual Credit had managed things. +</P> +<P>Formerly it was only with great reluctance that he consented to take +charge of the funds which were offered to him; and then he never +accepted sums less than ten thousand francs, being always careful to +say, that, not being a prophet, he could not answer for any thing, +and might be mistaken, like any one else. Since the Commune, on the +contrary, and with a duplicity, that could never have been suspected, +he had used all his ingenuity to attract deposits. Under some +pretext or other, he would call among the neighbors, the +shop-keepers; and, after lamenting with them about the hard times +and the difficulty of making money, he always ended by holding up to +them the dazzling profits which are yielded by certain investments +unknown to the public. +</P> +<P>If these very proceedings had not betrayed him, it is because he +recommended to each the most inviolable secrecy, saying, that, at +the slightest indiscretion, he would be assailed with demands, and +that it would be impossible for him to do for all what he did for one. +</P> +<P>At any rate, he took every thing that was offered, even the most +insignificant sums, affirming, with the most imperturbable assurance, +that he could double or treble them without the slightest risk. +</P> +<P>The catastrophe having come, the smaller creditors showed themselves, +as usual, the most angry and the most intractable. The less money +one has, the more anxious one is to keep it. There was there an old +newspaper-vender, who had placed in M. Favoral's hands all she had +in the world, the savings of her entire life,—five hundred francs. +Clinging desperately to Maxence's garments, she begged him to give +them back to her, swearing, that, if he did not, there was nothing +left for her to do, except to throw herself in the river. Her groans +and her cries of distress exasperated the other creditors. +</P> +<P>That the cashier of the Mutual Credit should have embezzled millions, +they could well understand, they said. But that he could have +robbed this poor woman of her five hundred francs,—nothing more +low, more cowardly, and more vile could be imagined; and the law +had no chastisement severe enough for such a crime. +</P> +<P>“Give her back her five hundred francs;” they cried. For there was +not one of them but would have wagered his head that M. Favoral had +lots of money put away; and some went even so far as to say that he +must have hid it in the house, and, if they looked well, they would +find it. +</P> +<P>Maxence, bewildered, was at a loss what to do, when, in the midst +of this hostile crowd, he perceived M. Chapelain's friendly face. +</P> +<P>Driven from his bed at daylight by the bitter regrets at the heavy +loss he had just sustained, the old lawyer had arrived in the Rue +St. Gilles at the very moment when the creditors invaded M. Favoral's +apartment. Standing behind the crowd, he had seen and heard every +thing without breathing a word; and, if he interfered now, it was +because he thought things were about to take an ugly turn. He was +well known; and, as soon as he showed himself, +</P> +<P>“He is a friend of the rascal!” they shouted on all sides. +</P> +<P>But he was not the man to be so easily frightened. He had seen many +a worse case during twenty years that he had practised law, and had +witnessed all the sinister comedies and all the grotesque dramas of +money. He knew how to speak to infuriated creditors, how to handle +them, and what strings can be made to vibrate within them. In the +most quiet tone, +</P> +<P>“Certainly,” he answered, “I was Favoral's intimate friend; and the +proof of it is, that he has treated me more friendly than the rest. +I am in for a hundred and sixty thousand francs.” +</P> +<P>By this mere declaration he conquered the sympathies of the crowd. +He was a brother in misfortune; they respected him: he was a skilful +business-man; they stopped to listen to him. +</P> +<P>At once, and in a short and trenchant tone, he asked these invaders +what they were doing there, and what they wanted. Did they not know +to what they exposed themselves in violating a domicile? What would +have happened, if, instead of stopping to parley, Maxence had sent +for the commissary of police? Was it to Mme. Favoral and her +children that they had intrusted their funds? No! What did they +want with them then? Was there by chance among them some of those +shrewd fellows who always try to get themselves paid in full, to the +detriment of the others? +</P> +<P>This last insinuation proved sufficient to break up the perfect +accord that had hitherto existed among all the creditors. Distrust +arose; suspicious glances were exchanged; and, as the old newspaper +woman was keeping up her groans, +</P> +<P>“I should like to know why you should be paid before us,” two women +told her roughly. “Our rights are just as good as yours!” +</P> +<P>Prompt to avail himself of the dispositions of the crowd, +</P> +<P>“And, moreover,” resumed the old lawyer, “in whom did we place our +confidence? Was it in Favoral the private individual? To a certain +extent, yes; but it was much more to the cashier of the Mutual +Credit. Therefore that establishment owes us, at least, some +explanations. And this is not all. Are we really so badly burned, +that we should scream so loud? What do we know about it? That +Favoral is charged with embezzlement, that they came to arrest him, +and that he has run away. Is that any reason why our money should +be lost? I hope not. And so what should we do? Act prudently, +and wait patiently for the work of justice.” +</P> +<P>Already, by this time, the creditors had slipped out one by one; +and soon the servant closed the door on the last of them. +</P> +<P>Then Mme. Favoral, Maxence, and Mlle. Gilberte surrounded M. +Chapelain, and, pressing his hands, +</P> +<P>“How thankful we feel, sir, for the service you have just +rendered us!” +</P> +<P>But the old lawyer seemed in no wise proud of his victory. +</P> +<P>“Do not thank me,” he said. “I have only done my duty,—what any +honest man would have done in my place.” +</P> +<P>And yet, under the appearance of impassible coldness, which he owed +to the long practice of a profession which leaves no illusions, he +evidently felt a real emotion. +</P> +<P>“It is you whom I pity,” he added, “and with all my soul,—you, +madame, you, my dear Gilberte, and you, too, Maxence. Never had I +so well understood to what degree is guilty the head of a family +who leaves his wife and children exposed to the consequences of his +crimes.” +</P> +<P>He stopped. The servant was trying her best to put the dining-room +in some sort of order wheeling the table to the centre of the room, +and lifting up the chairs from the floor. +</P> +<P>“What pillage!” she grumbled. “Neighbors too,—people from whom +we bought our things! But they were worse than savages; impossible +to do any thing with them.” +</P> +<P>“Don't trouble yourself, my good girl,” said M. Chapelain: “they +won't come back any more!” +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral looked as if she wished to drop on her knees before +the old lawyer. +</P> +<P>“How, very kind you are!” she murmured: “you are not too angry with +my poor Vincent!” +</P> +<P>With the look of a man who has made up his mind to make the best of +a disaster that he cannot help, M. Chapelain shrugged his shoulders. +</P> +<P>“I am angry with no one but myself,” he uttered in a bluff tone. +“An old bird like me should not have allowed himself to be caught +in a pigeon-trap. I am inexcusable. But we want to get rich. It's +slow work getting rich by working, and it's so much easier to get +the money already made out of our neighbor's pockets! I have been +unable to resist the temptation myself. It's my own fault; and I +should say it was a good lesson, if it did not cost so dear.” +</P> + + +<H2>XXIV + +</H2><P>So much philosophy could hardly have been expected of him. +</P> +<P>“All my father's friends are not as indulgent as you are,” said +Maxence,—“M. Desclavettes, for instance.” +</P> +<P>“Have you seen him?” +</P> +<P>“Yes, last night, about twelve o'clock. He came to ask us to get +father to pay him back, if we should ever see him again.” +</P> +<P>“That might be an idea!” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte started. +</P> +<P>“What!” said she, “you, too, sir, can imagine that my father has +run away with millions?” +</P> +<P>The old lawyer shook his head. +</P> +<P>“I believe nothing,” he answered. “Favoral has taken me in so +completely,—me, who had the pretension of being a judge of men, +—that nothing from him, either for good or for evil, could surprise +me hereafter.” +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral was about to offer some objection; but he stopped her +with a gesture. +</P> +<P>“And yet,” he went on, “I'd bet that he has gone off with empty +pockets. His recent operations reveal a frightful distress. Had +he had a few thousand francs at his command, would he have extorted +five hundred francs from a poor old woman, a newspaper-vender? +What did he want with the money? Try his luck once more, no doubt.” +</P> +<P>He was seated, his elbow upon the arm of the chair, his head resting +upon his hands, thinking; and the contraction of his features +indicated an extraordinary tension of mind. +</P> +<P>Suddenly he drew himself up. +</P> +<P>“But why,” he exclaimed, “why wander in idle conjectures? What do +we know about Favoral? Nothing. One entire side of his existence +escapes us,—that fantastic side, of which the insane prodigalities +and inconceivable disorders have been revealed to us by the bills +found in his desk. He is certainly guilty; but is he as guilty as +we think? and, above all, is he alone guilty? Was it for himself +alone that he drew all this money? Are the missing millions really +lost? and wouldn't it be possible to find the biggest share of them +in the pockets of some accomplice? Skilful men do not expose +themselves. They have at their command poor wretches, sacrificed +in advance, and who, in exchange for a few crumbs that are thrown +to them, risk the criminal court, are condemned, and go to prison.” +</P> +<P>“That's just what I was telling my mother and sister, sir,” +interrupted Maxence. +</P> +<P>“And that's what I am telling myself,” continued the old lawyer. +“I have been thinking over and over again of last evening's scene; +and strange doubts have occurred to my mind. For a man who has +been robbed of a dozen millions, M. de Thaller was remarkably quiet +and self-possessed. Favoral appeared to me singularly calm for a +man charged with embezzlement and forgery. M. de Thaller, as +manager of the Mutual Credit, is really responsible for the stolen +funds, and, as such, should have been anxious to secure the guilty +party, and to produce him. Instead of that, he wished him to go, +and actually brought him the money to enable him to leave. Was he +in hopes of hushing up the affair? Evidently not, since the police +had been notified. On the other hand, Favoral seemed much more +angry than surprised by the occurrence. It was only on the +appearance of the commissary of police that he seems to have lost +his head; and then some very strange things escaped him, which I +cannot understand.” +</P> +<P>He was walking at random through the parlor, apparently rather +answering the objections of his own mind than addressing himself to +his interlocutors, who were listening, nevertheless, with all the +attention of which they were capable. +</P> +<P>“I don't know,” he went on. “An old traveler like me to be taken +in thus! Evidently there is under all this one of those diabolical +combinations which time even fails to unravel. We ought to see, +to inquire—” +</P> +<P>And then, suddenly stopping in front of Maxence, +</P> +<P>“How much did M. de Thaller bring to your father last evening?” he +asked. +</P> +<P>“Fifteen thousand francs.” +</P> +<P>“Where are they?” +</P> +<P>“Put away in mother's room.” +</P> +<P>“When do you expect to take them back to M. de Thaller?” +</P> +<P>“To-morrow.” +</P> +<P>“Why not to-day?” +</P> +<P>“This is Sunday. The offices of the Mutual Credit must be closed.” +</P> +<P>“After the occurrences of yesterday, M. de Thaller must be at his +office. Besides, haven't you his private address?” +</P> +<P>“I beg your pardon, I have.” +</P> +<P>The old lawyer's small eyes were shining with unusual brilliancy. +He certainly felt deeply the loss of his money; but the idea that +he had been swindled for the benefit of some clever rascal was +absolutely insupportable to him. +</P> +<P>“If we were wise,” he said again, “we'd do this. Mme. Favoral +would take these fifteen thousand francs, and we would go together, +she and I, to see M. de Thaller.” +</P> +<P>It was an unexpected good-fortune for Mme. Favoral, that M. +Chapelain should consent to assist her. So, without hesitating, +</P> +<P>“The time to dress, sir,” she said, “and I am ready.” She left the +parlor; but as she reached her room, her son joined her. +</P> +<P>“I am obliged to go out, dear mother,” he said; “and I shall +probably not be home to breakfast.” +</P> +<P>She looked at him with an air of painful surprise. “What,” she said, +“at such a moment!” +</P> +<P>“I am expected home.” +</P> +<P>“By whom? A woman?” she murmured. +</P> +<P>“Well, yes.” +</P> +<P>“And it is for that woman's sake that you want to leave your sister +alone at home?” +</P> +<P>“I must, mother, I assure you; and, if you only knew—” +</P> +<P>“I do not wish to know, any thing.” +</P> +<P>But his resolution had been taken. He went off; and a few moments +later Mme. Favoral and M. Chapelain entered a cab which had been +sent for, and drove to M. de Thaller's. +</P> +<P>Left alone, Mlle. Gilberte had but one thought,—to notify M. de +Tregars, and obtain word from him. Any thing seemed preferable to +the horrible anxiety which oppressed her. She had just commenced +a letter, which she intended to have taken to the Count de Villegre, +when a violent ring of the bell made her start; and almost +immediately the servant came in, saying, +</P> +<P>“It is a gentleman who wishes to see you, a friend of monsieur's, +—M. Costeclar, you know.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte started to her feet, trembling with excitement. +</P> +<P>“That's too much impudence!” she exclaimed. She was hesitating +whether to refuse him the door, or to see him, and dismiss him +shamefully herself, when she had a sudden inspiration. “What does +he want?” she thought. “Why not see him, and try and find out what +he knows? For he certainly must know the truth.” +</P> +<P>But it was no longer time to deliberate. Above the servant's +shoulder M. Costeclar's pale and impudent face showed itself. +</P> +<P>The girl having stepped to one side, he appeared, hat in hand. +Although it was not yet nine o'clock, his morning toilet was +irreproachably correct. He had already passed through the +hair-dresser's hands; and his scanty hair was brought forward over +his low fore-head with the usual elaborate care. +</P> +<P>He wore a pair of those ridiculous trousers which grow wide from +the knee down, and which were invented by Prussian tailors to hide +their customers' ugly feet. Under his light-colored overcoat could +be seen a velvet-faced jacket, with a rose in its buttonhole. +</P> +<P>Meantime, he remained motionless on the threshold of the door, +trying to smile, and muttering one of those sentences which are +never intended to be finished. +</P> +<P>“I beg you to believe, mademoiselle—your mother's absence—my most +respectful admiration—” +</P> +<P>In fact, he was taken aback by the disorder of the girl's toilet, +—disorder which she had had no time to repair since the clamors +of the creditors had started her from her bed. +</P> +<P>She wore a long brown cashmere wrapper, fitting quite close over +the hips setting off the vigorous elegance of her figure, the +maidenly perfections of her waist, and the exquisite contour of +her neck. Gathered up in haste, her thick blonde hair escaped +from beneath the pins, and spread over her shoulders in luminous +cascades. Never had she appeared to M. Costeclar as lovely as at +this moment, when her whole frame was vibrating with suppressed +indignation, her cheeks flushed, her eyes flashing. +</P> +<P>“Please come in, sir,” she uttered. +</P> +<P>He stepped forward, no longer bowing humbly as formerly, but with +legs outstretched, chest thrown out, with an ill-concealed look of +gratified vanity. “I did not expect the honor of your visit, sir,” +said the young girl. +</P> +<P>Passing rapidly his hat and his cane from the right hand into the +left, and then the right hand upon his heart, his eyes raised to +the ceiling, and with all the depth of expression of which he was +capable, +</P> +<P>“It is in times of adversity that we know our real friends, +mademoiselle,” he uttered. “Those upon whom we thought we could +rely the most, often, at the first reverse, take flight forever!” +</P> +<P>She felt a shiver pass over her. Was this an allusion to Marius? +</P> +<P>The other, changing his tone, went on, +</P> +<P>“It's only last night that I heard of poor Favoral's discomfiture, +at the bourse where I had gone for news. It was the general topic +of conversation. Twelve millions! That's pretty hard. The Mutual +Credit Society might not be able to stand it. From 580, at which +it was selling before the news, it dropped at once to 300. At nine +o'clock, there were no takers at 180. And yet, if there is nothing +beyond what they say, at 180, I am in.” +</P> +<P>Was he forgetting himself, or pretending to? +</P> +<P>“But please excuse me, mademoiselle,” he resumed: “that's not what +I came to tell you. I came to ask if you had any news of our poor +Favoral.” +</P> +<P>“We have none, sir.” +</P> +<P>“Then it is true: he succeeded in getting away through this window?” +</P> +<P>“Yes.” +</P> +<P>“And he did not tell you where he meant to take refuge?” +</P> +<P>Observing M. Costeclar with all her power of penetration, Mlle. +Gilberte fancied she discovered in him something like a certain +surprise mingled with joy. +</P> +<P>“Then Favoral must have left without a sou!” +</P> +<P>“They accuse him of having carried away millions, sir; but I would +swear that it is not so.” +</P> +<P>M. Costeclar approved with a nod. +</P> +<P>“I am of the same opinion,” he declared, “unless—but no, he was not +the man to try such a game. And yet—but again no, he was too +closely watched. Besides, he was carrying a very heavy load, a load +that exhausted all his resources.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte, hoping that she was going to learn something, made +an effort to preserve her indifference. +</P> +<P>“What do you mean?” she inquired. +</P> +<P>He looked at her, smiled, and, in a light tone, +</P> +<P>“Nothing,” he answered, “only some conjectures of my own.” +</P> +<P>And throwing himself upon a chair, his head leaning upon its back, +</P> +<P>“That is not the object of my visit either,” he uttered. “Favoral +is overboard: don't let us say any thing more about him. Whether +he has got ‘the bag’ or not, you'll never see him again: he is as +good as dead. Let us, therefore, talk of the living, of yourself. +What's going to become of you?” +</P> +<P>“I do not understand your question, sir.” +</P> +<P>“It is perfectly limpid, nevertheless. I am asking myself how you +are going to live, your mother and yourself?” +</P> +<P>“Providence will not abandon us, sir.” +</P> +<P>M. Costeclar had crossed his legs, and with the end of his cane he +was negligently tapping his immaculate boot. +</P> +<P>“Providence!” he giggled; “that's very good on the stage, in a play, +with low music in the orchestra. I can just see it. In real life, +unfortunately, the life which we both live, you and I, it is not +with words, were they a yard long, that the baker, the grocer, and +those rascally landlords, can be paid, or that dresses and shoes +can be bought.” +</P> +<P>She made no answer. +</P> +<P>“Now, then,” he went on, “here you are without a penny. Is it +Maxence who will supply you with money? Poor fellow! Where would +he get it? He has hardly enough for himself. Therefore, what are +you going to do?” +</P> +<P>“I shall work, sir.” +</P> +<P>He got up, bowed low, and, resuming his seat, +</P> +<P>“My sincere compliments,” he said. “There is but one obstacle to +that fine resolution: it is impossible for a woman to live by her +labor alone. Servants are about the only ones who ever get their +full to eat.” +</P> +<P>“I'll be a servant, if necessary.” +</P> +<P>For two or three seconds he remained taken aback, but, recovering +himself, +</P> +<P>“How different things would be,” he resumed in an insinuating tone, +“if you had not rejected me when I wanted to become your husband! +But you couldn't bear the sight of me. And yet, 'pon my word, I was +in love with you, oh, but for good and earnest! You see, I am a +judge of women; and I saw very well how you would look, handsomely +dressed and got up, leaning back in a fine carriage in the Bois—” +</P> +<P>Stronger than her will, disgust rose to her lips. +</P> +<P>“Ah, sir!” she said. +</P> +<P>He mistook her meaning. +</P> +<P>“You are regretting all that,” he continued. “I see it. Formerly, +eh, you would never have consented to receive me thus, alone with +you, which proves that girls should not be headstrong, my dear child.” +</P> +<P>He, Costeclar, he dared to call her, “My dear child.” Indignant and +insulted, “Oh!” she exclaimed. But he had started, and kept on, +</P> +<P>“Well, such as I was, I am still. To be sure, there probably would +be nothing further said about marriage between us; but, frankly, +what would you care if the conditions were the same,—a fine house, +carriages, horses, servants—” +</P> +<P>Up to this moment, she had not fully understood him. Drawing +herself up to her fullest height, and pointing to the door, +</P> +<P>“Leave this moment,” she ordered. +</P> +<P>But he seemed in no wise disposed to do so: on the contrary, paler +than usual, his eyes bloodshot, his lips trembling, and smiling a +strange smile, he advanced towards Mlle. Gilberte. +</P> +<P>“What!” said he. “You are in trouble, I kindly come to offer my +services, and this is the way you receive me! You prefer to work, +do you? Go ahead then, my lovely one, prick your pretty fingers, +and redden your eyes. My time will come. Fatigue and want, cold +in the winter, hunger in all seasons, will speak to your little +heart of that kind Costeclar who adores you, like a big fool that +he is, who is a serious man and who has money,—much money.” +</P> +<P>Beside herself, +</P> +<P>“Wretch!” cried the girl, “leave, leave at once.” +</P> +<P>“One moment,” said a strong voice. +</P> +<P>M. Costeclar looked around. +</P> +<P>Marius de Tregars stood within the frame of the open door. +</P> +<P>“Marius!” murmured Mlle. Gilberte, rooted to the spot by a surprise +hardly less immense than her joy. +</P> +<P>To behold him thus suddenly, when she was wondering whether she +would ever see him again; to see him appear at the very moment +when she found herself alone, and exposed to the basest outrages, +—it was one of those fortunate occurrences which one can scarcely +realize; and from the depth of her soul rose something like a hymn +of thanks. +</P> +<P>Nevertheless, she was confounded at M. Costeclar's attitude. +According to her, and from what she thought she knew, he should have +been petrified at the sight of M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>And he did not even seem to know him. He seemed shocked, annoyed +at being interrupted, slightly surprised, but in no wise moved or +frightened. Knitting his brows, +</P> +<P>“What do you wish?” he inquired in his most impertinent tone. +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars stepped forward. He was somewhat pale, but unnaturally +calm, cool, and collected. Bowing to Mlle. Gilberte, +</P> +<P>“If I have thus ventured to enter your apartment, mademoiselle,” he +uttered gently, “it is because, as I was going by the door, I +thought I recognized this gentleman's carriage.” +</P> +<P>And, with his finger over his shoulder, he was pointing to M. +Costeclar. +</P> +<P>“Now,” he went on, “I had reason to be somewhat astonished at this, +after the positive orders I had given him never to set his feet, not +only in this house, but in this part of the city. I wished to find +out exactly. I came up: I heard—” +</P> +<P>All this was said in a tone of such crushing contempt, that a slap +on the face would have been less cruel. All the blood in M. +Costeclar's veins rushed to his face. +</P> +<P>“You!” he interrupted insolently: “I do not know you.” +</P> +<P>Imperturbable, M. de Tregars was drawing off his gloves. +</P> +<P>“Are you quite certain of that?” he replied. “Come, you certainly +know my old friend, M. de Villegre?” +</P> +<P>An evident feeling of anxiety appeared on M. Costeclar's countenance. +</P> +<P>“I do,” he stammered. +</P> +<P>“Did not M. Villegre call upon you before the war?” +</P> +<P>“He did.” +</P> +<P>“Well, 'twas I who sent him to you; and the commands which he +delivered to you were mine.” +</P> +<P>“Yours?” +</P> +<P>“Mine. I am Marius de Tregars.” +</P> +<P>A nervous shudder shook M. Costeclar's lean frame. Instinctively +his eye turned towards the door. +</P> +<P>“You see,” Marius went on with the same gentleness, “we are, you +and I, old acquaintances. For you quite remember me now, don't +you? I am the son of that poor Marquis de Tregars who came to +Paris, all the way from his old Brittany with his whole fortune, +—two millions.” +</P> +<P>“I remember,” said the stock-broker: “I remember perfectly well.” +</P> +<P>“On the advice of certain clever people, the Marquis de Tregars +ventured into business. Poor old man! He was not very sharp. He +was firmly persuaded that he had already more than doubled his +capital, when his honorable partners demonstrated to him that he was +ruined, and, besides, compromised by certain signatures imprudently +given.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte was listening, her mouth open, and wondering what +Marius was aiming at, and how he could remain so calm. +</P> +<P>“That disaster,” he went on, “was at the time the subject of an +enormous number of very witty jokes. The people of the bourse +could hardly admire enough these bold financiers who had so deftly +relieved that candid marquis of his money. That was well done for +him; what was he meddling with? As to myself, to stop the +prosecutions with which my father was threatened, I gave up all I +had. I was quite young, and, as you see, quite what you call, I +believe, ‘green.’ I am no longer so now. Were such a thing to +happen to me to-day, I should want to know at once what had become +of the millions: I would feel all the pockets around me. I would +say, ‘Stop thief!’” +</P> +<P>At every word, as it were, M. Costeclar's uneasiness became more +manifest. +</P> +<P>“It was not I,” he said, “who received the benefit of M. de Tregars' +fortune.” +</P> +<P>Marius nodded approvingly. +</P> +<P>“I know now,” he replied, “among whom the spoils were divided. You, +M. Costeclar, you took what you could get, timidly, and according to +your means. Sharks are always accompanied by small fishes, to which +they abandon the crumbs they disdain. You were but a small fish +then: you accommodated yourself with what your patrons, the sharks, +did not care about. But, when you tried to operate alone, you were +not shrewd enough: you left proofs of your excessive appetite for +other people's money. Those proofs I have in my possession.” +</P> +<P>M. Costeclar was now undergoing perfect torture. +</P> +<P>“I am caught,” he said, “I know it: I told M. de Villegre so.” +</P> +<P>“Why are you here, then?” +</P> +<P>“How did I know that the count had been sent by you?” +</P> +<P>“That's a poor reason, sir.” +</P> +<P>“Besides, after what has occurred, after Favoral's flight, I thought +myself relieved of my engagement.” +</P> +<P>“Indeed!” +</P> +<P>“Well, if you insist upon it, I am wrong, I suppose.” +</P> +<P>“Not only you are wrong,” uttered Marius still perfectly cool, “but +you have committed a great imprudence. By failing to keep your +engagements, you have relieved me of mine. The pact is broken. +According to the agreement, I have the right, as I leave here, to go +straight to the police.” +</P> +<P>M. Costeclar's dull eye was vacillating. +</P> +<P>“I did not think I was doing wrong,” he muttered. “Favoral was my +friend.” +</P> +<P>“And that's the reason why you were coming to propose to Mlle. +Favoral to become your mistress? There she is, you thought, without +resources, literally without bread, without relatives, without +friends to protect her: this is the time to come forward. And +thinking you could be cowardly, vile, and infamous with impunity, +you came.” +</P> +<P>To be thus treated, he, the successful man, in presence of this +young girl, whom, a moment before, he was crushing with his impudent +opulence, no, M. Costeclar could not stand it. Losing completely +his head, +</P> +<P>“You should have let me know, then,” he exclaimed, “that she was +your mistress.” +</P> +<P>Something like a flame passed over M. de Tregars' face. His eyes +flashed. Rising in all the height of his wrath, which broke out +terrible at last, +</P> +<P>“Ah, you scoundrel!” he exclaimed. +</P> +<P>M. Costeclar threw himself suddenly to one side. +</P> +<P>“Sir!” +</P> +<P>But at one bound M. de Tregars had caught him. +</P> +<P>“On your knees!” he cried. +</P> +<P>And, seizing him by the collar with an iron grip, he lifted him +clear off the floor, and then threw him down violently upon both +knees. +</P> +<P>“Speak!” he commanded. “Repeat,—‘Mademoiselle’” +</P> +<P>M. Costeclar had expected worse from M. de Tregars' look. A horrible +fear had instantly crushed within him all idea of resistance. +</P> +<P>“Mademoiselle,” he stuttered in a choking voice. “I am the vilest +of wretches,” continued Marius. M. Costeclar's livid face was +oscillating like an inert object. +</P> +<P>“I am,” he repeated, “the vilest of wretches.” +</P> +<P>“And I beg of you—” +</P> +<P>But Mlle. Gilberte was sick of the sight. +</P> +<P>“Enough,” she interrupted, “enough!” +</P> +<P>Feeling no longer upon his shoulders the heavy hand of M. de Tregars, +the stock-broker rose with difficulty to his feet. So livid was his +face, that one might have thought that his whole blood had turned +to gall. +</P> +<P>Dusting with the end of his glove the knees of his trousers, and +restoring as best he could the harmony of his toilet, which had been +seriously disturbed, +</P> +<P>“Is it showing any courage,” he grumbled, “to abuse one's physical +strength?” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars had already recovered his self-possession; and Mlle. +Gilberte thought she could read upon his face regret for his violence. +</P> +<P>“Would it be better to make use of what you know?” M. Costeclar +joined his hands. +</P> +<P>“You would not do that,” he said. “What good would it do you to +ruin me?” +</P> +<P>“None,” answered M. de Tregars: “you are right. But yourself?” +</P> +<P>And, looking straight into M. Costeclar's eyes,—“If you could be +of service to me,” he inquired, “would you be willing?” +</P> +<P>“Perhaps. That I might recover possession of the papers you have.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars was thinking. +</P> +<P>“After what has just taken place,” he said at last, “an explanation +is necessary between us. I will be at your house in an hour. Wait +for me.” +</P> +<P>M. Costeclar had become more pliable than his own lavender kid +gloves: in fact, alarmingly pliable. +</P> +<P>“I am at your command, sir,” he replied to M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>And, bowing to the ground before Mlle. Gilberte, he left the parlor; +and, a few moments after, the street-door was heard to close upon him. +</P> +<P>“Ah, what a wretch!” exclaimed the, girl, dreadfully agitated. +“Marius, did you see what a look he gave us as he went out?” +</P> +<P>“I saw it,” replied M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>“That man hates us: he will not hesitate to commit a crime to avenge +the atrocious humiliation you have just inflicted upon him.” +</P> +<P>“I believe it too.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte made a gesture of distress. +</P> +<P>“Why did you treat him so harshly?” she murmured. +</P> +<P>“I had intended to remain calm, and it would have been politic to +have done so. But there are some insults which a man of heart +cannot endure. I do not regret what I have done.” +</P> +<P>A long pause followed; and they remained standing, facing each other, +somewhat embarrassed. Mlle. Gilberte felt ashamed of the disorder +of her dress. M. de Tregars wondered how he could have been bold +enough to enter this house. +</P> +<P>“You have heard of our misfortune,” said the young girl at last. +</P> +<P>“I read about it this morning, in the papers.” +</P> +<P>“What! the papers know already?” +</P> +<P>“Every thing.” +</P> +<P>“And our name is printed in them?” +</P> +<P>“Yes.” +</P> +<P>She covered her face with her two hands. +</P> +<P>“What disgrace!” she said. +</P> +<P>“At first,” went on M. de Tregars, “I could hardly believe what I +read. I hastened to come; and the first shopkeeper I questioned +confirmed only too well what I had seen in the papers. From that +moment, I had but one wish,—to see and speak to you. When I +reached the door, I recognized M. Costeclar's equipage, and I had +a presentiment of the truth. I inquired from the concierge for +your mother or your brother, and heard that Maxence had gone out +a few moments before, and that Mme. Favoral had just left in a +carriage with M. Chapelain, the old lawyer. At the idea that you +were alone with Costeclar, I hesitated no longer. I ran up stairs, +and, finding the door open, had no occasion to ring.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte could hardly repress the sobs that rose to her throat. +</P> +<P>“I never hoped to see you again,” she stammered; “and you'll find +there on the table the letter I had just commenced for you when M. +Costeclar interrupted me.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars took it up quickly. Two lines only were written. He +read: “I release you from your engagement, Marius. Henceforth you +are free.” +</P> +<P>He became whiter than his shirt. +</P> +<P>“You wish to release me from my engagement!” he exclaimed. “You—” +</P> +<P>“Is it not my duty? Ah! if it had only been our fortune, I should +perhaps have rejoiced to lose it. I know your heart. Poverty would +have brought us nearer together. But it's honor, Marius, honor that +is lost too! The name I bear is forever stained. Whether my father +is caught, or whether he escapes, he will be tried all the same, +condemned, and sentenced to a degrading penalty for embezzlement and +forgery.” +</P> +<P>If M. de Tregars was allowing her to proceed thus, it was because he +felt all his thoughts whirling in his brain; because she looked so +beautiful thus, all in tears, and her hair loose; because there +arose from her person so subtle a charm, that words failed him to +express the sensations that agitated him. +</P> +<P>“Can you,” she went on, “take for your wife the daughter of a +dishonored man? No, you cannot. Forgive me, then, for having for +a moment turned away your life from its object; forgive the sorrow +which I have caused you; leave me to the misery of my fate; +forget me!” +</P> +<P>She was suffocating. +</P> +<P>“Ah, you have never loved me!” exclaimed Marius. +</P> +<P>Raising her hands to heaven, +</P> +<P>“Thou hearest him, great God!” she uttered, as if shocked by a +blasphemy. +</P> +<P>“Would it be easy for you to forget me then? Were I to be struck +by misfortune, would you break our engagement, cease to love me?” +</P> +<P>She ventured to take his hands, and, pressing them between hers, +</P> +<P>“To cease loving you no longer depends on my will,” she murmured +with quivering lips. “Poor, abandoned of all, disgraced, criminal +even, I should love you still and always.” +</P> +<P>With a passionate gesture, Marius threw his arm around her waist, +and, drawing her to his breast, covered her blonde hair with +burning kisses. +</P> +<P>“Well, 'tis thus that I love you too!” he exclaimed, “and with all +my soul, exclusively, and for life! What do I care for your +parents? Do I know them? Your father—does he exist? Your name +—it is mine, the spotless name of the Tregars. You are my wife! +mine, mine!” +</P> +<P>She was struggling feebly: an almost invincible stupor was creeping +over her. She felt her reason disturbed, her energy giving way, a +film before her eyes, the air failing to her heaving chest. +</P> +<P>A great effort of her will restored her to consciousness. She +withdrew gently, and sank upon a chair, less strong against joy +than she had been against sorrow. +</P> +<P>“Pardon me,” she stammered, “pardon me for having doubted you!” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars was not much less agitated than Mlle. Gilberte: but he +was a man; and the springs of his energy were of a superior temper. +In less than a minute he had fully recovered his self-possession +and imposed upon his features their accustomed expression. Drawing +a chair by the side of Mlle. Gilberte, +</P> +<P>“Permit me, my friend,” he said, “to remind you that our moments are +numbered, and that there are many details which it is urgent that I +should know.” +</P> +<P>“What details?” she asked, raising her head. +</P> +<P>“About your father.” +</P> +<P>She looked at him with an air of profound surprise. +</P> +<P>“Do you not know more about it than I do?” she replied, “more than +my mother, more than any of us? Did you not, whilst following up +the people who robbed your father, strike mine unwittingly? And +'tis I, wretch that I am, who inspired you to that fatal resolution; +and I have not the heart to regret it.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars had blushed imperceptibly. “How did you know?” he +began. +</P> +<P>“Was it not said that you were about to marry Mlle. de Thaller?” +</P> +<P>He drew up suddenly. +</P> +<P>“Never,” he exclaimed, “has this marriage existed, except in the +brain of M. de Thaller, and, more still, of the Baroness de Thaller. +That ridiculous idea occurred to her because she likes my name, and +would be delighted to see her daughter Marquise de Tregars. She +has never breathed a word of it to me; but she has spoken of it +everywhere, with just enough secrecy to give rise to a good piece +of parlor gossip. She went so far as to confide to several persons +of my acquaintance the amount of the dowry, thinking thus to +encourage me. As far as I could, I warned you against this false +news through the Signor Gismondo.” +</P> +<P>“The Signor Gismondo relieved me of cruel anxieties,” she replied; +“but I had suspected the truth from the first. Was I not the +confidante of your hopes? Did I not know your projects? I had +taken for granted that all this talk about a marriage was but a +means to advance yourself in M. de Thaller's intimacy without +awaking his suspicions.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars was not the man to deny a true fact. +</P> +<P>“Perhaps, indeed, I have not been wholly foreign to M. Favoral's +disaster. At least I may have hastened it a few months, a few +days only, perhaps; for it was inevitable, fatal. Nevertheless, +had I suspected the real facts, I would have given up my designs +—Gilberte, I swear it—rather than risk injuring your father. +There is no undoing what is done; but the evil may, perhaps, be +somewhat lessened.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte started. +</P> +<P>“Great heavens!” she exclaimed, “do you, then, believe my father +innocent?” +</P> +<P>Better than any one else, Mlle. Gilberte must have been convinced +of her father's guilt. Had she not seen him humiliated and +trembling before M. de Thaller? Had she not heard him, as it were, +acknowledge the truth of the charge that was brought against him? +But at twenty hope never forsakes us, even in presence of facts. +</P> +<P>And when she understood by M. de Tregars' silence that she was +mistaken, +</P> +<P>“It's madness,” she murmured, dropping her head: +</P> +<P>“I feel it but too well. But the heart speaks louder than reason. +It is so cruel to be driven to despise one's father!” +</P> +<P>She wiped the tears which filled her eyes, and, in a firmer voice, +</P> +<P>“What happened is so incomprehensible!” she went on. “How can I help +imagining some one of those mysteries which time alone unravels. +For twenty-four hours we have been losing ourselves in idle +conjectures, and, always and fatally, we come to this conclusion, +that my father must be the victim of some mysterious intrigue. +</P> +<P>“M. Chapelain, whom a loss of a hundred and sixty thousand francs +has not made particularly indulgent, is of that opinion.” +</P> +<P>“And so am I,” exclaimed Marius. +</P> +<P>“You see, then—” +</P> +<P>But without allowing her to proceed and taking gently her hand, +</P> +<P>“Let me tell you all,” he interrupted, “and try with you to find +an issue to this horrible situation. Strange rumors are afloat +about M. Favoral. It is said that his austerity was but a mask, +his sordid economy a means of gaining confidence. It is affirmed +that in fact he abandoned himself to all sorts of disorders; that +he had, somewhere in Paris, an establishment, where he lavished the +money of which he was so sparing here. Is it so? The same thing +is said of all those in whose hands large fortunes have melted.” +</P> +<P>The young girl had become quite red. +</P> +<P>“I believe that is true,” she replied. “The commissary of police +stated so to us. He found among my father's papers receipted bills +for a number of costly articles, which could only have been intended +for a woman.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars looked perplexed. +</P> +<P>“And does any one know who this woman is?” he asked. +</P> +<P>“Whoever she may be, I admit that she may have cost M. Favoral +considerable sums. But can she have cost him twelve millions?” +</P> +<P>“Precisely the remark which M. Chapelain made.” +</P> +<P>“And which every sensible man must also make. I know very well +that to conceal for years a considerable deficit is a costly +operation, requiring purchases and sales, the handling and shifting +of funds, all of which is ruinous in the extreme. But, on the other +hand, M. Favoral was making money, a great deal of money. He was +rich: he was supposed to be worth millions. Otherwise, Costeclar +would never have asked your hand.” +</P> +<P>“M. Chapelain pretends that at a certain time my father had at least +fifty thousand francs a year.” +</P> +<P>“It's bewildering.” +</P> +<P>For two or three minutes M. de Tregars remained silent, reviewing +in his mind every imaginable eventuality, and then, +</P> +<P>“But no matter,” he resumed. “As soon as I heard this morning the +amount of the deficit, doubts came to my mind. And it is for that +reason, dear friend, that I was so anxious to see you and speak to +you. It would be necessary for me to know exactly what occurred +here last night.” +</P> +<P>Rapidly, but without omitting a single useful detail, Mlle. Gilberte +narrated the scenes of the previous night—the sudden appearance of +M. de Thaller, the arrival of the commissary of police, M. Favoral's +escape, thanks to Maxence's presence of mind. Every one of her +father's words had remained present to her mind; and it was almost +literally that she repeated his strange speeches to his indignant +friends, and his incoherent remarks at the moment of flight, when, +whilst acknowledging his fault, he said that he was not as guilty +as they thought; that, at any rate, he was not alone guilty; and +that he had been shamefully sacrificed. When she had finished, +</P> +<P>“That's exactly what I thought,” said M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>“What?” +</P> +<P>“M. Favoral accepted a role in one of those terrible financial +dramas which ruin a thousand poor dupes to the benefit of two or +three clever rascals. Your father wanted to be rich: he needed +money to carry on his intrigues. He allowed himself to be tempted. +But whilst he believed himself one of the managers, called upon to +divide the receipts, he was but a scene-shifter with a stated +salary. The moment of this denouement having come, his so-called +partners disappeared through a trap-door with the cash, leaving +him alone, as they say, to face the music.” +</P> +<P>“If that's the case,” replied the young girl, “why didn't my father +speak?” +</P> +<P>“What was he to say?” +</P> +<P>“Name his accomplices.” +</P> +<P>“And suppose he had no proofs of their complicity to offer? He was +the cashier of the Mutual Credit; and it is from his cash that the +millions are gone.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte's conjectures had run far ahead of that sentence. +Looking straight at Marius, +</P> +<P>“Then,” she said, “you believe, as M. Chapelain does, that M. de +Thaller—” +</P> +<P>“Ah! M. Chapelain thinks—” +</P> +<P>“That the manager of the Mutual Credit must have known the fact of +the frauds.” +</P> +<P>“And that he had his share of them?” +</P> +<P>“A larger share than his cashier, yes.” +</P> +<P>A singular smile curled M. de Tregars' lips. “Quite possible,” he +replied: “that's quite possible.” +</P> +<P>For the past few moments Mlle. Gilberte's embarrassment was quite +evident in her look. At last, overcoming her hesitation, +</P> +<P>“Pardon me,” said she, “I had imagined that M. de Thaller was one +of those men whom you wished to strike; and I had indulged in the +hope, that, whilst having justice done to your father, you were +thinking, perhaps, of avenging mine.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars stood up, as if moved by a spring. “Well, yes!” he +exclaimed. “Yes, you have correctly guessed. But how can we +obtain this double result? A single misstep at this moment might +lose all. Ah, if I only knew your father's real situation; if I +could only see him and speak to him! In one word he might, perhaps, +place in my hands a sure weapon,—the weapon that I have as yet +been unable to find.” +</P> +<P>“Unfortunately,” replied Mlle. Gilberte with a gesture of despair, +“we are without news of my father; and he even refused to tell us +where he expected to take refuge.” +</P> +<P>“But he will write, perhaps. Besides, we might look for him, +quietly, so as not to excite the suspicions of the police; and if +your brother Maxence was only willing to help me—” +</P> +<P>“Alas! I fear that Maxence may have other cares. He insisted upon +going out this morning, in spite of mother's request to the contrary.” +</P> +<P>But Marius stopped her, and, in the tone of a man who knows much +more than he is willing to say,—“Do not calumniate Maxence,” he +said: “it is through him, perhaps, that we will receive the help +that we need.” +</P> +<P>Eleven o'clock struck. Mlle. Gilberte started. +</P> +<P>“Dear me!” she exclaimed, “mother will be home directly.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars might as well have waited for her. Henceforth he had +nothing to conceal. Yet, after duly deliberating with the young +girl, they decided that he should withdraw, and that he would send +M. de Villegre to declare his intentions. He then left, and, five +minutes later, Mme. Favoral and M. Chapelain appeared. +</P> +<P>The ex-attorney was furious; and he threw the package of bank-notes +upon the table with a movement of rage. +</P> +<P>“In order to return them to M. de Thaller,” he exclaimed, “it was at +least necessary to see him. But the gentleman is invisible; keeps +himself under lock and key, guarded by a perfect cloud of servants +in livery.” +</P> +<P>Meantime, Mme. Favoral had approached her daughter. +</P> +<P>“Your brother?” she asked in a whisper. +</P> +<P>“He has not yet come home.” +</P> +<P>“Dear me!” sighed the poor mother: “at such a time he forsakes us, +and for whose sake?” +</P> + + +<H2>XXV + +</H2><P>Mme. Favoral, usually so indulgent, was too severe this time; and +it was very unjustly that she accused her son. She forgot, and +what mother does not forget, that he was twenty-five years of age, +that he was a man, and that, outside of the family and of herself, +he must have his own interests and his passions, his affections and +his duties. Because he happened to leave the house for a few hours, +Maxence was surely not forsaking either his mother or his sister. +It was not without a severe internal struggle that he had made up +his mind to go out, and, as he was going down the steps, +</P> +<P>“Poor mother,” he thought. “I am sure I am making her very unhappy; +but how can I help it?” +</P> +<P>This was the first time that he had been in the street since his +farther's disaster had been known; and the impression produced upon +him was painful in the extreme. Formerly, when he walked through +the Rue St. Gilles, that street where he was born, and where he used +to play as a boy, every one met him with a friendly nod or a familiar +smile. True he was then the son of a man rich and highly esteemed; +whereas this morning not a hand was extended, not a hat raised, on +his passage. People whispered among themselves, and pointed him +out with looks of hatred and irony. That was because he was now +the son of the dishonest cashier tracked by the police, of the man +whose crime brought disaster upon so many innocent parties. +</P> +<P>Mortified and ashamed, Maxence was hurrying on, his head down, his +cheek burning, his throat parched, when, in front of a wine-shop, +</P> +<P>“Halloo!” said a man; “that's the son. What cheek!” +</P> +<P>And farther on, in front of the grocer's. +</P> +<P>“I tell you what,” said a woman in the midst of a group, “they still +have more than we have.” +</P> +<P>Then, for the first time, he understood with what crushing weight +his father's crime would weigh upon his whole life; and, whilst +going up the Rue Turenne: +</P> +<P>“It's all over,” he thought: “I can never get over it.” And he +was thinking of changing his name, of emigrating to America, and +hiding himself in the deserts of the Far West, when, a little +farther on, he noticed a group of some thirty persons in front +of a newspaper-stand. The vender, a fat little man with a red +face and an impudent look, was crying in a hoarse voice, +</P> +<P>“Here are the morning papers! The last editions! All about the +robbery of twelve millions by a poor cashier. Buy the morning +papers!” +</P> +<P>And, to stimulate the sale of his wares, he added all sorts of +jokes of his own invention, saying that the thief belonged to the +neighborhood; that it was quite flattering, etc. +</P> +<P>The crowd laughed; and he went on, +</P> +<P>“The cashier Favoral's robbery! twelve millions! Buy the paper, +and see how it's done.” +</P> +<P>And so the scandal was public, irreparable. Maxence was listening +a few steps off. He felt like going; but an imperative feeling, +stronger than his will, made him anxious to see what the papers said. +</P> +<P>Suddenly he made up his mind, and, stepping up briskly, he threw +down three sous, seized a paper, and ran as if they had all known +him. +</P> +<P>“Not very polite, the gentleman,” remarked two idlers whom he had +pushed a little roughly. +</P> +<P>Quick as he had been, a shopkeeper of the Rue Turenne had had time +to recognize him. +</P> +<P>“Why, that's the cashier's son!” he exclaimed. “Is it possible?” +</P> +<P>“Why don't they arrest him?” +</P> +<P>Half a dozen curious fellows, more eager than the rest, ran after +him to try and see his face. But he was already far off. +</P> +<P>Leaning against a gas-lamp on the Boulevard, he unfolded the paper +he had just bought. He had no trouble looking for the article. In +the middle of the first page, in the most prominent position, he +read in large letters, +</P> +<BLOCKQUOTE> “At the moment of going to press, the greatest agitation prevails + among the stock-brokers and operators at the bourse generally, + owing to the news that one of our great banking establishments + has just been the victim of a theft of unusual magnitude. +</BLOCKQUOTE> +<BLOCKQUOTE> “At about five o'clock in the afternoon, the manager of the + Mutual Credit Society, having need of some documents, went to + look for them in the office of the head cashier, who was then + absent. A memorandum forgotten on the table excited his + suspicions. Sending at once for a locksmith, he had all the + drawers broken open, and soon acquired the irrefutable evidence + that the Mutual Credit had been defrauded of sums, which, as far + as now known, amount to upwards of twelve millions. +</BLOCKQUOTE> +<BLOCKQUOTE> “At once the police was notified; and M. Brosse, commissary of + police, duly provided with a warrant, called at the guilty + cashier's house. +</BLOCKQUOTE> +<BLOCKQUOTE> “That cashier, named Favoral,—we do not hesitate to name him, + since his name has already been made public,—had just sat down + to dinner with some friends. Warned, no one knows how, he + succeeded in escaping through a window into the yard of the + adjoining house, and up to this hour has succeeded in eluding + all search. +</BLOCKQUOTE> +<BLOCKQUOTE> “It seems that these embezzlements had been going on for years, + but had been skillfully concealed by false entries. +</BLOCKQUOTE> +<BLOCKQUOTE> “M. Favoral had managed to secure the esteem of all who knew him. + He led at home a more than modest existence. But that was only, + as it were, his official life. Elsewhere, and under another name, + he indulged in the most reckless expenses for the benefit of a + woman with whom he was madly in love. +</BLOCKQUOTE> +<BLOCKQUOTE> “Who this woman is, is not yet exactly known. +</BLOCKQUOTE> +<BLOCKQUOTE> “Some mention a very fascinating young actress, who performs at + a theatre not a hundred miles from the Rue Vivienne; others, a + lady of the financial high life, whose equipages, diamonds, and + dresses are justly famed. +</BLOCKQUOTE> +<BLOCKQUOTE> “We might easily, in this respect, give particulars which would + astonish many people; for we know all; but, at the risk of + seeming less well informed than some others of our morning + contemporaries, we will observe a silence which our readers will + surely appreciate. We do not wish to add, by a premature + indiscretion, any thing to the grief of a family already so + cruelly stricken; for M. Favoral leaves behind him in the deepest + sorrow a wife and two children,—a son of twenty-five, employed + in a railroad office, and a daughter of twenty, remarkably + handsome, who, a few months ago, came very near marrying M. + C. ——. +</BLOCKQUOTE> +<BLOCKQUOTE> “Next—” +</BLOCKQUOTE> +<P>Tears of rage obscured Maxence's sight whilst reading the last few +lines of this terrible article. To find himself thus held up to +public curiosity, though innocent, was more than he could bear. +</P> +<P>And yet he was, perhaps, still more surprised than indignant. He +had just learned in that paper more than his father's most intimate +friends knew, more than he knew himself. Where had it got its +information? And what could be these other details which the writer +pretended to know, but did not wish to publish as yet? Maxence felt +like running to the office of the paper, fancying that they could +tell him there exactly where and under what name M. Favoral led that +existence of pleasure and luxury, and who the woman was to whom the +article alluded. +</P> +<P>But in the mean time he had reached his hotel,—the Hotel des +Folies. After a moment of hesitation, +</P> +<P>“Bash!” he thought, “I have the whole day to call at the office of +the paper.” +</P> +<P>And he started in the corridor of the hotel, a corridor that was so +long, so dark, and so narrow, that it gave an idea of the shaft of +a mine, and that it was prudent, before entering it, to make sure +that no one was coming in the opposite direction. It was from the +neighboring theatre, des Folies-Nouvelles (now the Theatre Dejazet), +that the hotel had taken its name. +</P> +<P>It consists of the rear building of a large old house, and has no +frontage on the Boulevard, where nothing betrays its existence, +except a lantern hung over a low and narrow door, between a Café +and a confectionery-shop. It is one of those hotels, as there are +a good many in Paris, somewhat mysterious and suspicious, ill-kept, +and whose profits remain a mystery for simple-minded folks. Who +occupy the apartments of the first and second story? No one knows. +Never have the most curious of the neighbors discovered the face +of a tenant. And yet they are occupied; for often, in the +afternoon, a curtain is drawn aside, and a shadow is seen to move. +In the evening, lights are noticed within; and sometimes the sound +of a cracked old piano is heard. +</P> +<P>Above the second story, the mystery ceases. All the upper rooms, +the price of which is relatively modest, are occupied by tenants +who may be seen and heard,—clerks like Maxence, shop-girls from +the neighborhood, a few restaurant-waiters, and sometimes some poor +devil of an actor or chorus-singer from the Theatre Dejazet, the +Circus, or the Chateau d'Eau. One of the great advantages of the +Hotel des Folies—and Mme. Fortin, the landlady, never failed to +point it out to the new tenants, an inestimable advantage, she +declared—was a back entrance on the Rue Beranger. +</P> +<P>“And everybody knows,” she concluded, “that there is no chance of +being caught, when one has the good luck of living in a house that +has two outlets.” +</P> +<P>When Maxence entered the office, a small, dark, and dirty room, +the proprietors, M. and Mme. Fortin were just finishing their +breakfast with an immense bowl of coffee of doubtful color, of +which an enormous red cat was taking a share. +</P> +<P>“Ah, here is M. Favoral!” they exclaimed. +</P> +<P>There was no mistaking their tone. They knew the catastrophe; +and the newspaper lying on the table showed how they had heard it. +</P> +<P>“Some one called to see you last night,” said Mme. Fortin, a large +fat woman, whose nose was always besmeared with snuff, and whose +honeyed voice made a marked contrast with her bird-of-prey look. +</P> +<P>“Who?” +</P> +<P>“A gentleman of about fifty, tall and thin, with a long overcoat, +coming down to his heels.” +</P> +<P>Maxence imagined, from this description, that he recognized his own +father. And yet it seemed impossible, after what had happened, that +he should dare to show himself on the Boulevard du Temple, where +everybody knew him, within a step of the Café Turc, of which he +was one of the oldest customers. +</P> +<P>“At what o'clock was he here?” he inquired. +</P> +<P>“I really can't tell,” answered the landlady. “I was half asleep +at the time; but Fortin can tell us.” +</P> +<P>M. Fortin, who looked about twenty years younger than his wife, was +one of those small men, blonde, with scanty beard, a suspicious +glance, and uneasy smile, such as the Madame Fortins know how to +find, Heaven knows where. +</P> +<P>“The confectioner had just put up his shutters,” he replied: +“consequently, it must have been between eleven and a quarter-past +eleven.” +</P> +<P>“And didn't he leave any word?” said Maxence. +</P> +<P>“Nothing, except that he was very sorry not to find you in. And, +in fact, he did look quite annoyed. We asked him to leave his name; +but he said it wasn't worth while, and that he would call again.” +</P> +<P>At the glance which the landlady was throwing toward him from the +corner of her eyes, Maxence understood that she had on the subject +of that late visitor the same suspicion as himself. +</P> +<P>And, as if she had intended to make it more apparent still, +</P> +<P>“I ought, perhaps, to have given him your key,” she said. +</P> +<P>“And why so, pray?” +</P> +<P>“Oh! I don't know, an idea of mine, that's all. Besides, Mlle. +Lucienne can probably tell you more about it; for she was there +when the gentleman came, and I even think that they exchanged a +few words in the yard.” +</P> +<P>Maxence, seeing that they were only seeking a pretext to question +him, took his key, and inquired, +</P> +<P>“Is—Mlle. Lucienne at home?” +</P> +<P>“Can't tell. She has been going and coming all the morning, and +I don't know whether she finally staid in or out. One thing is +sure, she waited for you last night until after twelve; and she +didn't like it much, I can tell you.” +</P> +<P>Maxence started up the steep stairs; and, as he reached the upper +stories, a woman's voice, fresh and beautifully toned, reached his +ears more and more distinctly. +</P> +<P>She was singing a popular tune,—one of those songs which are +monthly put in circulation by the singing Cafés— +</P> +<BLOCKQUOTE> “To hope! O charming word, +<BR> Which, during all life, +<BR> Husband and children and wife +<BR> Repeat in common accord! +<BR> When the moment of success +<BR> From us ever further slips, +<BR> 'Tis Hope from its rosy lips +<BR> Whispers, To-morrow you will bless. +<BR> 'Tis very nice to run, +<BR> But to have is better fun.” +</BLOCKQUOTE> +<P>“She is in,” murmured Maxence, breathing more freely. +</P> +<P>Reaching the fourth story, he stopped before the door which faced +the stairs, and knocked lightly. +</P> +<P>At once, the voice, which had just commenced another verse stopped +short, and inquired, “Who's there?” +</P> +<P>“I, Maxence!” +</P> +<P>“At this hour!” replied the voice with an ironical laugh. “That's +lucky. You have probably forgotten that we were to go to the +theatre last night, and start for St. Germain at seven o'clock +this morning.” +</P> +<P>“Don't you know then?” Maxence began, as soon as he could put in a +word. +</P> +<P>“I know that you did not come home last night.” +</P> +<P>“Quite true. But when I have told you—” +</P> +<P>“What? the lie you have imagined? Save yourself the trouble.” +</P> +<P>“Lucienne, I beg of you, open the door.” +</P> +<P>“Impossible, I am dressing. Go to your own room: as soon as I am +dressed, I'll join you.” +</P> +<P>And, to cut short all these explanations, she took up her song again: +</P> +<BLOCKQUOTE> “Hope, I've waited but too long +<BR> For thy manna divine! +<BR> I've drunk enough of thy wine, +<BR> And I know thy siren song: +<BR> Waiting for a lucky turn, +<BR> I have wasted my best days: +<BR> Take up thy magic-lantern +<BR> And elsewhere display its rays. +<BR> 'Tis very nice to run, +<BR> But to have is better fun!” +</BLOCKQUOTE> + + +<H2>XXVI + +</H2><P>It was on the opposite side of the landing that what Mme. Fortin +pompously called “Maxence's apartment” was situated. +</P> +<P>It consisted of a sort of antechamber, almost as large as a +handkerchief (decorated by the Fortins with the name of dining-room), +a bedroom, and a closet called a dressing-room in the lease. +Nothing could be more gloomy than this lodging, in which the ragged +paper and soiled paint retained the traces of all the wanderers who +had occupied it since the opening of the Hotel des Folies. The +dislocated ceiling was scaling off in large pieces; the floor +seemed affected with the dry-rot; and the doors and windows were +so much warped and sprung, that it required an effort to close them. +The furniture was on a par with the rest. +</P> +<P>“How everything does wear out!” sighed Mme. Fortin. “It isn't ten +years since I bought that furniture.” +</P> +<P>In point of fact it was over fifteen, and even then she had bought +it secondhanded, and almost unfit for use. The curtains retained +but a vague shade of their original color. The veneer was almost +entirely off the bedstead. Not a single lock was in order, whether +in the bureau or the secretary. The rug had become a nameless rag; +and the broken springs of the sofa, cutting through the threadbare +stuff, stood up threateningly like knife-blades. +</P> +<P>The most sumptuous object was an enormous China stove, which +occupied almost one-half of the hall-dining-room. It could not be +used to make a fire; for it had no pipe. Nevertheless, Mme. Fortin +refused obstinately to take it out, under the pretext that it gave +such a comfortable appearance to the apartment. All this elegance +cost Maxence forty-five francs a month, and five francs for the +service; the whole payable in advance from the 1st to the 3d of +the month. If, on the 4th, a tenant came in without money, Mme. +Fortin squarely refused him his key, and invited him to seek +shelter elsewhere. +</P> +<P>“I have been caught too often,” she replied to those who tried to +obtain twenty-four hours' grace from her. “I wouldn't trust my +own father till the 5th, he who was a superior officer in Napoleon's +armies, and the very soul of honor.” +</P> +<P>It was chance alone which had brought Maxence, after the Commune, +to the Hotel des Folies; and he had not been there a week, before +he had fully made up his mind not to wear out Mme. Fortin's +furniture very long. He had even already found another and more +suitable lodging, when, about a year ago, a certain meeting on +the stairs had modified all his views, and lent a charm to his +apartment which he did not suspect. +</P> +<P>As he was going out one morning to his office, he met on the very +landing a rather tall and very dark girl, who had just come +running up stairs. She passed before him like a flash, opened +the opposite door, and disappeared. But, rapid as the apparition +had been, it had left in Maxence's mind one of those impressions +which are never obliterated. He could not think of any thing +else the whole day; and after business-hours, instead of going to +dine in Rue St. Gilles, as usual, he sent a despatch to his mother +to tell her not to wait for him, and bravely went home. +</P> +<P>But it was in vain, that, during the whole evening, he kept watch +behind his door, left slyly ajar: he did not get a glimpse of the +neighbor. Neither did she show herself on the next or the three +following days; and Maxence was beginning to despair, when at last, +on Sunday, as he was going down stairs, he met her again face to +face. He had thought her quite pretty at the first glance: this +time he was dazzled to that extent, that he remained for over a +minute, standing like a statue against the wall. +</P> +<P>And certainly it was not her dress that helped setting off her +beauty. She wore a poor dress of black merino, a narrow collar, +and plain cuffs, and a bonnet of the utmost simplicity. She had +nevertheless an air of incomparable dignity, a grace that charmed, +and yet inspired respect, and the carriage of a queen. This was +on the 30th of July. As he was handing in his key, before leaving, +</P> +<P>“My apartment suits me well enough,” said Maxence to Mme. Fortin: +“I shall keep it. And here are fifty francs for the month of August.” +</P> +<P>And, while the landlady was making out a receipt, +</P> +<P>“You never told me,” he began with his most indifferent look, “that +I had a neighbor.” +</P> +<P>Mme. Fortin straightened herself up like an old warhorse that hears +the sound of the bugle. +</P> +<P>“Yes, yes!” she said,—“Mademoiselle Lucienne.” +</P> +<P>“Lucienne,” repeated Maxence: “that's a pretty name.” +</P> +<P>“Have you seen her?” +</P> +<P>“I have just seen her. She's rather good looking.” +</P> +<P>The worthy landlady jumped on her chair. “Rather good looking!” +she interrupted. “You must be hard to please, my dear sir; for I, +who am a judge, I affirm that you might hunt Paris over for four +whole days without finding such a handsome girl. Rather good +looking! A girl who has hair that comes down to her knees, a +dazzling complexion, eyes as big as this, and teeth whiter than +that cat's. All right, my friend. You'll wear out more than one +pair of boots running after women before you catch one like her.” +</P> +<P>That was exactly Maxence's opinion; and yet with his coldest look, +</P> +<P>“Has she been long your tenant, dear Mme. Fortin?” he asked. +</P> +<P>“A little over a year. She was here during the siege; and just +then, as she could not pay her rent, I was, of course, going to +send her off; but she went straight to the commissary of police, +who came here, and forbade me to turn out either her or anybody +else. As if people were not masters in their own house!” +</P> +<P>“That was perfectly absurd!” objected Maxence, who was determined +to gain the good graces of the landlady. +</P> +<P>“Never heard of such a thing!” she went on. “Compel you to lodge +people free! Why not feed them too? In short, she remained so +long, that, after the Commune, she owed me a hundred and eighty +francs. Then she said, that, if I would let her stay, she would +pay me each month in advance, besides the rent, ten francs on the +old account. I agreed, and she has already paid up twenty francs.” +</P> +<P>“Poor girl!” said Maxence. +</P> +<P>But Mme. Fortin shrugged her shoulders. +</P> +<P>“Really,” she replied, “I don't pity her much; for, if she only +wanted, in forty-eight hours I should be paid, and she would have +something else on her back besides that old black rag. I tell her +every day, ‘In these days, my child, there is but one reliable +friend, which is better than all others, and which must be taken as +it comes, without making any faces if it is a little dirty: that's +money.’ But all my preaching goes for nothing. I might as well +sing.” +</P> +<P>Maxence was listening with intense delight. +</P> +<P>“In short, what does she do?” he asked. +</P> +<P>“That's more than I know,” replied Mme. Fortin. “The young lady +has not much to say. All I know is, that she leaves every morning +bright and early, and rarely gets home before eleven. On Sunday +she stays home, reading; and sometimes, in the evening, she goes +out, always alone, to some theatre or ball. Ah! she is an odd +one, I tell you!” +</P> +<P>A lodger who came in interrupted the landlady; and Maxence walked +off dreaming how he could manage to make the acquaintance of his +pretty and eccentric neighbor. +</P> +<P>Because he had once spent some hundreds of napoleons in the company +of young ladies with yellow chignons, Maxence fancied himself a man +of experience, and had but little faith in the virtue of a girl of +twenty, living alone in a hotel, and left sole mistress of her own +fancy. He began to watch for every occasion of meeting her; and, +towards the last of the month, he had got so far as to bow to her, +and to inquire after her health. +</P> +<P>But, the first time he ventured to make love to her, she looked at +him head to foot, and turned her back upon him with so much contempt, +that he remained, his mouth wide open, perfectly stupefied. +</P> +<P>“I am losing my time like a fool,” he thought. +</P> +<P>Great, then, was his surprise, when the following week, on a fine +afternoon, he saw Mlle. Lucienne leave her room, no longer clad in +her eternal black dress, but wearing a brilliant and extremely rich +toilet. With a beating heart he followed her. +</P> +<P>In front of the Hotel des Folies stood a handsome carriage and +horses. +</P> +<P>As soon as Mlle. Lucienne appeared, a footman opened respectfully +the carriage-door. She went in; and the horses started at a full +trot. +</P> +<P>Maxence watched the carriage disappear in the distance, like a +child who sees the bird fly upon which he hoped to lay hands. +</P> +<P>“Gone,” he muttered, “gone!” +</P> +<P>But, when he turned around, he found himself face to face with the +Fortins, man and wife; who were laughing a sinister laugh. +</P> +<P>“What did I tell you?” exclaimed Mme. Fortin. “There she is, +started at last. Get up, horse! She'll do well, the child.” +</P> +<P>The magnificent equipage and elegant dress had already produced +quite an effect among the neighbors. The customers sitting in front +of the Café were laughing among themselves. The confectioner and +his wife were casting indignant glances at the proprietors of the +Hotel des Folies. +</P> +<P>“You see, M. Favoral,” replied Mme. Fortin, “such a girl as that +was not made for our neighborhood. You must make up your mind to +it; you won't see much more of her on the Boulevard du Temple.” +</P> +<P>Without saying a word, Maxence ran to his room, the hot tears +streaming from his eyes. He felt ashamed of himself; for, after +all, what was this girl to him? +</P> +<P>“She is gone!” he repeated to himself. “Well, good-by, let her go!” +</P> +<P>But, despite all his efforts at philosophy, he felt an immense +sadness invading his heart: ill-defined regrets and spasms of anger +agitated him. He was thinking what a fool he had been to believe +in the grand airs of the young lady, and that, if he had had dresses +and horses to give her, she might not have received him so harshly. +At last he made up his mind to think no more of her,—one of those +fine resolutions which are always taken, and never kept; and in the +evening he left his room to go and dine in the Rue St. Gilles. +</P> +<P>But, as was often his custom, he stopped at the Café next door, and +called for a drink. He was mixing his absinthe when he saw the +carriage that had carried off Mlle. Lucienne in the morning returning +at a rapid gait, and stopping short in front of the hotel. Mlle. +Lucienne got out slowly, crossed the sidewalk, and entered the +narrow corridor. Almost immediately, the carriage turned around, +and drove off. +</P> +<P>“What does it mean?” thought Maxence, who was actually forgetting +to swallow his absinthe. +</P> +<P>He was losing himself in absurd conjectures, when, some fifteen +minutes later, he saw the girl coming out again. Already she had +taken off her elegant clothes, and resumed her cheap black dress. +She had a basket on her arm, and was going towards the Rue Chariot. +Without further reflections, Maxence rose suddenly, and started to +follow her, being very careful that she should not see him. After +walking for five or six minutes, she entered a shop, half-eating +house, and half wine-shop, in the window of which a large sign +could be read: “Ordinary at all hours for forty centimes. Hard +boiled eggs, and salad of the season.” +</P> +<P>Maxence, having crept up as close as he could, saw Mlle. Lucienne +take a tin box out of her basket, and have what is called an +“ordinaire” poured into it; that is, half a pint of soup, a piece +of beef as large as the fist, and a few vegetables. She then had +a small bottle half-filled with wine, paid, and walked out with +that same look of grave dignity which she always wore. +</P> +<P>“Funny dinner,” murmured Maxence, “for a woman who was spreading +herself just now in a ten-thousand-franc carriage.” +</P> +<P>From that moment she became the sole and only object of his thoughts. +A passion, which he no longer attempted to resist, was penetrating +like a subtle poison to the innermost depths of his being. He +thought himself happy, when, after watching for hours, he caught a +glimpse of this singular creature, who, after that extraordinary +expedition, seemed to have resumed her usual mode of life. Mme. +Fortin was dumfounded. +</P> +<P>“She has been too exacting,” she said to Maxence, “and the thing +has fallen through.” +</P> +<P>He made no answer. He felt a perfect horror for the honorable +landlady's insinuations; and yet he never ceased to repeat to +himself that he must be a great simpleton to have faith for a +moment in that young lady's virtue. What would he not have given +to be able to question her? But he dared not. Often he would +gather up his courage, and wait for her on the stairs; but, as +soon as she fixed upon him her great black eye, all the phrases +he had prepared took flight from his brain, his tongue clove to +his mouth, and he could barely succeed in stammering out a timid, +</P> +<P>“Good-morning, mademoiselle.” +</P> +<P>He felt so angry with himself, that he was almost on the point of +leaving the Hotel des Folies, when one evening: +</P> +<P>“Well,” said Mme. Fortin to him, “all is made up again, it seems. +The beautiful carriage called again to-day.” +</P> +<P>Maxence could have beaten her. +</P> +<P>“What good would it do you,” he replied, “if Lucienne were to turn +out badly?” +</P> +<P>“It's always a pleasure,” she grumbled, “to have one more woman to +torment the men. Those are the girls, you see, who avenge us poor +honest women!” +</P> +<P>The sequel seemed at first to justify her worst previsions. Three +times during that week, Mlle. Lucienne rode out in grand style; but +as she always returned, and always resumed her eternal black woolen +dress, +</P> +<P>“I can't make head or tail of it,” thought Maxence. “But never mind, +I'll clear the matter up yet.” +</P> +<P>He applied, and obtained leave of absence; and from the very next +day he took up a position behind the window of the adjoining Café. +On the first day he lost his time; but on the second day, at about +three o'clock, the famous equipage made its appearance; and, a few +moments later, Mlle. Lucienne took a seat in it. Her toilet was +richer, and more showy still, than the first time. Maxence jumped +into a cab. +</P> +<P>“You see that carriage,” he said to the coachman, “Wherever it +goes, you must follow it. I give ten francs extra pay.” +</P> +<P>“All right!” replied the driver, whipping up his horses. +</P> +<P>And much need he had, too, of whipping them; for the carriage that +carried off Mlle. Lucienne started at full trot down the Boulevards, +to the Madeleine, then along the Rue Royale, and through the Place +de la Concorde, to the Avenue des Champs-Elysees, where the horses +were brought down to a walk. It was the end of September, and one +of those lovely autumnal days which are a last smile of the blue +sky and the last caress of the sun. +</P> +<P>There were races in the Bois de Boulogne; and the equipages were +five and six abreast on the avenue. The side-alleys were crowded +with idlers. Maxence, from the inside of his cab, never lost sight +of Mlle. Lucienne. +</P> +<P>She was evidently creating a sensation. The men stopped to look +at her with gaping admiration: the women leaned out of their +carriages to see her better. +</P> +<P>“Where can she be going?” Maxence wondered. +</P> +<P>She was going to the Bois; and soon her carriage joined the +interminable line of equipages which were following the grand drive +at a walk. It became easier now to follow on foot. Maxence sent +off his cab to wait for him at a particular spot, and took the +pedestrians' road, that follows the edge of the lakes. He had +not gone fifty steps, however, before he heard some one call him. +He turned around, and, within two lengths of his cane, saw M. Saint +Pavin and M. Costeclar. Maxence hardly knew M. Saint Pavin, whom +he had only seen two or three times in the Rue St. Gilles, and +execrated M. Costeclar. Still he advanced towards them. +</P> +<P>Mlle. Lucienne's carriage was now caught in the file; and he was +sure of joining it whenever he thought proper. +</P> +<P>“It is a miracle to see you here, my dear Maxence!” exclaimed M. +Costeclar, loud enough to attract the attention of several persons. +</P> +<P>To occupy the attention of others, anyhow and at any cost, was M. +Costeclar's leading object in life. That was evident from the +style of his dress, the shape of his hat, the bright stripes of his +shirt, his ridiculous shirt-collar, his cuffs, his boots, his gloves, +his cane, every thing, in fact. +</P> +<P>“If you see us on foot,” he added, “it is because we wanted to walk +a little. The doctor's prescription, my dear. My carriage is +yonder, behind those trees. Do you recognize my dapple-grays?” +And he extended his cane in that direction, as if he were addressing +himself, not to Maxence alone, but to all those who were passing by. +</P> +<P>“Very well, very well! everybody knows you have a carriage,” +interrupted M. Saint Pavin. +</P> +<P>The editor of “The Financial Pilot” was the living contrast of his +companion. More slovenly still than M. Costeclar was careful of +his dress, he exhibited cynically a loose cravat rolled over a shirt +worn two or three days, a coat white with lint and plush, muddy +boots, though it had not rained for a week, and large red hands, +surprisingly filthy. +</P> +<P>He was but the more proud; and he wore, cocked up to one side, a +hat that had not known a brush since the day it had left the hatter's. +</P> +<P>“That fellow Costeclar,” he went on, “he won't believe that there +are in France a number of people who live and die without ever +having owned a horse or a coupe; which is a fact, nevertheless. +Those fellows who were born with fifty or sixty thousand francs' +income in their baby-clothes are all alike.” +</P> +<P>The unpleasant intention was evident; but M. Costeclar was not the +man to get angry for such a trifle. +</P> +<P>“You are in bad humor to-day, old fellow,” he said. The editor of +“The Financial Pilot” made a threatening gesture. +</P> +<P>“Well, yes,” he answered, “I am in bad humor, like a man who for +ten years past has been beating the drum in front of your d—d +financial shops, and who does not pay expenses. Yes, for ten years +I have shouted myself hoarse for your benefit: ‘Walk in, ladies and +gentlemen, and, for every twenty-cent-piece you deposit with us, +we will return you a five-franc-piece. Walk in, follow the crowd, +step up to the office: this is the time.’ They go in. You receive +mountains of twenty-cent-pieces: you never return anything, neither +a five-franc-piece, nor even a centime. The trick is done, the +public is sold. You drive your own carriage; you suspend diamonds +to your mistress' ears; and I, the organizer of success, whose puffs +open the tightest closed pockets, and start up the old louis from +the bottom of the old woolen stocking,—I am driven to have my boots +half-soled. You stint me my existence; you kick as soon as I ask +you to pay for the big drums bursted in your behalf.” +</P> +<P>He spoke so loud, that three or four idlers had stopped. Without +being very shrewd, Maxence understood readily that he had happened +in the midst of an acrimonious discussion. Closely pressed, and +desirous of gaining time, M. Costeclar had called him in the hopes +of effecting a diversion. +</P> +<P>Bowing, therefore, politely, +</P> +<P>“Excuse me, gentlemen,” he said: “I fear I have interrupted you.” +</P> +<P>But M. Costeclar detained him. +</P> +<P>“Don't go,” he declared; “you must come down and take a glass of +Madeira with us, down at the Cascade.” +</P> +<P>And, turning to the editor of “The Pilot”: +</P> +<P>“Come, now, shut up,” he said: “you shall have what you want.” +</P> +<P>“Really?” +</P> +<P>“Upon my word.” +</P> +<P>“I'd rather have two or three lines in black and white.” +</P> +<P>“I'll give them to you to-night.” +</P> +<P>“All right, then! Forward the big guns! Look out for next Sunday's +number!” +</P> +<P>Peace being made, the gentlemen continued their walk in the most +friendly manner, M. Costeclar pointing out to Maxence all the +celebrities who were passing by them in their carriages. +</P> +<P>He had just designated to his attention Mme. and Mlle. de Thaller, +accompanied by two gigantic footmen, when, suddenly interrupting +himself, and rising on tiptoe, +</P> +<P>“Sacre bleu!” he exclaimed: “what a handsome woman!” +</P> +<P>Without too much affectation, Maxence fell back a step or two. He +felt himself blushing to his very ears, and trembled lest his sudden +emotion were noticed, and he were questioned; for it was Mlle. +Lucienne who thus excited M. Costeclar's noisy enthusiasm. Once +already she had been around the lake; and she was continuing +her circular drive. +</P> +<P>“Positively,” approved the editor of “The Financial Pilot,” “she is +somewhat better than the rest of those ladies we have just seen +going by.” +</P> +<P>M. Costeclar was on the point of pulling out what little hair he +had left. +</P> +<P>“And I don't know her!” he went on. “A lovely woman rides in the +Bois, and I don't know who she is! That is ridiculous and +prodigious! Who can post us?” +</P> +<P>A little ways off stood a group of gentlemen, who had also just left +their carriages, and were looking on this interminable procession of +equipages and this amazing display of toilets. +</P> +<P>“They are friends of mine,” said M. Costeclar: “let us join them.” +</P> +<P>They did so; and, after the usual greetings, +</P> +<P>“Who is that?” inquired M. Costeclar,—“that dark person, whose +carriage follows Mme. de Thaller's?” +</P> +<P>An old young man, with scanty hair, dyed beard, and a most impudent +smile, answered him, +</P> +<P>“That's just what we are trying to find out. None of us have ever +seen her.” +</P> +<P>“I must and shall find out,” interrupted M. Costeclar. “I have a +very intelligent servant.” +</P> +<P>Already he was starting in the direction of the spot where his +carriage was waiting for him. The old beau stopped him. +</P> +<P>“Don't bother yourself, my dear friend,” he said. “I have also a +servant who is no fool; and he has had orders for over fifteen +minutes.” +</P> +<P>The others burst out laughing. +</P> +<P>“Distanced, Costeclar!” exclaimed M. Saint Pavin, who, +notwithstanding his slovenly dress and cynic manners, seemed +perfectly well received. +</P> +<P>No one was now paying any attention to Maxence; and he slipped off +without the slightest care as to what M. Costeclar might think. +Reaching the spot where his cab awaited him, +</P> +<P>“Which way, boss?” inquired the driver. Maxence hesitated. What +better had he to do than to go home? And yet . . . +</P> +<P>“We'll wait for that same carriage,” he answered; “and we'll follow +it on the return.” +</P> +<P>But he learned nothing further. Mlle. Lucienne drove straight to +the Boulevard du Temple, and, as before, immediately resumed her +eternal black dress; and Maxence saw her go to the little restaurant +for her modest dinner. +</P> +<P>But he saw something else too. +</P> +<P>Almost on the heels of the girl, a servant in livery entered the hotel +corridor, and only went off after remaining a full quarter of an hour +in busy conference with Mme. Fortin. +</P> +<P>“It's all over,” thought the poor fellow. “Lucienne will not be +much longer my neighbor.” +</P> +<P>He was mistaken. A month went by without bringing about any change. +As in the past, she went out early, came home late, and on Sundays +remained alone all day in her room. Once or twice a week, when the +weather was fine, the carriage came for her at about three o'clock, +and brought her home at nightfall. Maxence had exhausted all +conjectures, when one evening, it was the 31st of October, as he +was coming in to go to bed, he heard a loud sound of voices in the +office of the hotel. Led by an instinctive curiosity, he approached +on tiptoe, so as to see and hear every thing. The Fortins and Mlle. +Lucienne were having a great discussion. +</P> +<P>“That's all nonsense,” shrieked the worthy landlady; “and I mean +to be paid.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Lucienne was quite calm. +</P> +<P>“Well,” she replied: “don't I pay you? Here are forty francs, +—thirty in advance for my room, and ten on the old account.” +</P> +<P>“I don't want your ten francs!” +</P> +<P>“What do you want, then?” +</P> +<P>“Ah,—the hundred and fifty francs which you owe me still.” +</P> +<P>The girl shrugged her shoulders. +</P> +<P>“You forget our agreement,” she uttered. +</P> +<P>“Our agreement?” +</P> +<P>“Yes. After the Commune, it was understood that I would give you +ten francs a month on the old account; as long as I give them to +you, you have nothing to ask.” +</P> +<P>Crimson with rage, Mme. Fortin had risen from her seat. +</P> +<P>“Formerly,” she interrupted, “I presumed I had to deal with a poor +working-girl, an honest girl.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Lucienne took no notice of the insult. +</P> +<P>“I have not the amount you ask,” she said coldly. +</P> +<P>“Well, then,” vociferated the other, “you must go and ask it of +those who pay for your carriages and your dresses.” +</P> +<P>Still impassible, the girl, instead of answering, stretched her +hand towards her key; but M. Fortin stopped her arm. +</P> +<P>“No, no!” he said with a giggle. “People who don't pay their +hotel-bill sleep out, my darling.” +</P> +<P>Maxence, that very morning, had received his month's pay, and he +felt, as it were, his two hundred francs trembling in his pockets. +</P> +<P>Yielding to a sudden inspiration, he threw open the office-door, +and, throwing down one hundred and fifty francs upon the table, +</P> +<P>“Here is your money, wretch!” he exclaimed. And he withdrew at +once. +</P> + + +<H2>XXVII + +</H2><P>Maxence had not spoken to Mlle. Lucienne for nearly a month. He +tried to persuade himself that she despised him because he was poor. +He kept watching for her, for he could not help it; but as much as +possible he avoided her. +</P> +<P>“I shall be miserable,” he thought, “the day when she does not come +home; and yet it would be the very best thing that could happen +for me.” +</P> +<P>Nevertheless, he spent all his time trying to find some explanations +for the conduct of this strange girl, who, beneath her woolen dress, +had the haughty manners of a great lady. Then he delighted to +imagine between her and himself some of those subjects of confidence, +some of those facilities which chance never fails to supply to +attentive passion, or some event which would enable him to emerge +from his obscurity, and to acquire some rights by virtue of some +great service rendered. +</P> +<P>But never had he dared to hope for an occasion as propitious as the +one he had just seized. And yet, after he had returned to his room, +he hardly dared to congratulate himself upon the promptitude of his +decision. He knew too well Mlle. Lucienne's excessive pride and +sensitive nature. +</P> +<P>“I should not be surprised if she were angry with me for what I've +done,” he thought. +</P> +<P>The evening being quite chilly, he had lighted a few sticks; and, +sitting by the fireside, he was waiting, his mind filled with vague +hopes. It seemed to him that his neighbor could not absolve herself +from coming to thank him; and he was listening intently to all the +noises of the house, starting at the sound of footsteps on the +stairs, and at the slamming of doors. Ten times, at least, he went +out on tiptoe to lean out of the window on the landing, to make sure +that there was no light in Mlle. Lucienne's room. At eleven o'clock +she had not yet come home; and he was deliberating whether he would +not start out in quest of information, when there was a knock at the +door. +</P> +<P>“Come in!” he cried, in a voice choked with emotion. Mlle. Lucienne +came in. She was somewhat paler than usual, but calm and perfectly +self-possessed. Having bowed without the slightest shade of +embarrassment, she laid upon the mantel-piece the thirty +five-franc-notes which Maxence had thrown down to the Fortins; and, +in her most natural tone, +</P> +<P>“Here are your hundred and fifty francs, sir,” she uttered. “I am +more grateful than I can express for your prompt kindness in lending +them to me; but I did not need them.” +</P> +<P>Maxence had risen from his seat, and was making every effort to +control his own feelings. +</P> +<P>“Still,” he began, “after what I heard—” +</P> +<P>“Yes,” she interrupted, “Mme. Fortin and her husband were trying to +frighten me. But they were losing their time. When, after the +Commune, I settled with them the manner in which I would discharge +my debt towards them, having a just estimate of their worth, I +made them write out and sign our agreement. Being in the right, I +could resist them, and was resisting them when you threw them those +hundred and fifty francs. Having laid hands upon them, they had the +pretension to keep them. That's what I could not suffer. Not being +able to recover them by main force, I went at once to the commissary +of police. He was luckily at his office. He is an honest man, who +already, once before, helped me out of a scrape. He listened to me +kindly, and was moved by my explanations. Notwithstanding the +lateness of the hour, he put on his overcoat, and came with me to +see our landlord. After compelling them to return me your money, he +signified to them to observe strictly our agreement, under penalty +of incurring his utmost severity.” +</P> +<P>Maxence was wonderstruck. +</P> +<P>“How could you dare?” he said. +</P> +<P>“Wasn't I in the right?” +</P> +<P>“Oh, a thousand times yes! Still—” +</P> +<P>“What? Should my right be less respected because I am but a woman? +And, because I have no one to protect me, am I outside the law, and +condemned in advance to suffer the iniquitous fancies of every +scoundrel? No, thank Heaven! Henceforth I shall feel easy. People +like the Fortins, who live off I know not what shameful traffic, have +too much to fear from the police to dare to molest me further.” +</P> +<P>The resentment of the insult could be read in her great black eyes; +and a bitter disgust contracted her lips. +</P> +<P>“Besides,” she added, “the commissary had no need of my explanations +to understand what abject inspirations the Fortins were following. +The wretches had in their pocket the wages of their infamy. In +refusing me my key, in throwing me out in the street at ten o'clock +at night, they hoped to drive me to seek the assistance of the base +coward who paid their odious treason. And we know the price which +men demand for the slightest service they render to a woman.” +</P> +<P>Maxence turned pale. The idea flashed upon his mind that it was to +him, perhaps, that these last words were addressed. +</P> +<P>“Ah, I swear it!” he exclaimed, “it is without after-thought that +I tried to help you. You do not owe me any thanks even.” +</P> +<P>“I do not thank you any the less, though,” she said gently, “and +from the bottom of my heart.” +</P> +<P>“It was so little!” +</P> +<P>“Intention alone makes the value of a service, neighbor. And, +besides, do not say that a hundred and fifty francs are nothing to +you: perhaps you do not earn much more each month.” +</P> +<P>“I confess it,” he said, blushing a little. +</P> +<P>“You see, then? No, it was not to you that my words were addressed, +but to the man who has paid the Fortins. He was waiting on the +Boulevard, the result of the manoeuvre, which, they thought, was +about to place me at his mercy. He ran quickly to me when I went +out, and followed me all the way to the office of the commissary +of police, as he follows me everywhere for the past month, with his +sickening gallantries and his degrading propositions.” +</P> +<P>The eye flashing with anger, +</P> +<P>“Ah, if I had known!” exclaimed Maxence. “If you had told me but +a word!” +</P> +<P>She smiled at his vehemence. +</P> +<P>“What would you have done?” she said. “You cannot impart +intelligence to a fool, heart to a coward, or delicacy of feeling +to a boor.” +</P> +<P>“I could have chastised the miserable insulter.” +</P> +<P>She had a superb gesture of indifference. +</P> +<P>“Bash!” she interrupted. “What are insults to me? I am so +accustomed to them, that they no longer have any effect upon me. +I am eighteen: I have neither family, relatives, friends, nor any +one in the world who even knows my existence; and I live by my +labor. Can't you see what must be the humiliations of each day? +Since I was eight years old, I have been earning the bread I eat, +the dress I wear, and the rent of the den where I sleep. Can you +understand what I have endured, to what ignominies I have been +exposed, what traps have been set for me, and how it has happened +to me sometimes to owe my safety to mere physical force? And yet +I do not complain, since through it all I have been able to retain +the respect of myself, and to remain virtuous in spite of all.” +</P> +<P>She was laughing a laugh that had something wild in it. +</P> +<P>And, as Maxence was looking at her with immense surprise, +</P> +<P>“That seems strange to you, doesn't it?” she resumed. “A girl of +eighteen, without a sou, free as air, very pretty, and yet virtuous +in the midst of Paris. Probably you don't believe it, or, if you +do, you just think, ‘What on earth does she make by it?’ +</P> +<P>“And really you are right; for, after all, who cares, and who thinks +any the more of me, if I work sixteen hours a day to remain virtuous? +But it's a fancy of my own; and don't imagine for a moment that I am +deterred by any scruples, or by timidity, or ignorance. No, no! +I believe in nothing. I fear nothing; and I know as much as the +oldest libertines, the most vicious, and the most depraved. And I +don't say that I have not been tempted sometimes, when, coming home +from work, I'd see some of them coming out of the restaurants, +splendidly dressed, on their lover's arm, and getting into carriages +to go to the theatre. There were moments when I was cold and hungry, +and when, not knowing where to sleep, I wandered all night through +the streets like a lost dog. There were hours when I felt sick of +all this misery, and when I said to myself, that, since it was my +fate to end in the hospital, I might as well make the trip gayly. +But what! I should have had to traffic my person, to sell myself!” +</P> +<P>She shuddered, and in a hoarse voice, +</P> +<P>“I would rather die,” she said. +</P> +<P>It was difficult to reconcile words such as these with certain +circumstances of Mlle. Lucienne's existence,—her rides around the +lake, for instance, in that carriage that came for her two or three +times a week; her ever renewed costumes, each time more eccentric +and more showy. But Maxence was not thinking of that. What she +told him he accepted as absolutely true and indisputable. And he +felt penetrated with an almost religious admiration for this young +and beautiful girl, possessed of so much vivid energy, who alone, +through the hazards, the perils, and the temptations of Paris, had +succeeded in protecting and defending herself. +</P> +<P>“And yet,” he said, “without suspecting it, you had a friend near +you.” +</P> +<P>She shuddered; and a pale smile flitted upon her lips. She knew +well enough what friendship means between a youth of twenty-five +and a girl of eighteen. +</P> +<P>“A friend!” she murmured. +</P> +<P>Maxence guessed her thought; and, in all the sincerity of his soul, +</P> +<P>“Yes, a friend,” he repeated, “a comrade, a brother.” And thinking +to touch her, and gain her confidence, +</P> +<P>“I could understand you,” he added; “for I, too, have been very +unhappy.” +</P> +<P>But he was singularly mistaken. She looked at him with an astonished +air, and slowly, +</P> +<P>“You unhappy!” she uttered,—“you who have a family, relations, a +mother who adores you, a sister.” Less excited, Maxence might have +wondered how she had found this out, and would have concluded that +she must feel some interest in him, since she had doubtless taken +the trouble of getting information. +</P> +<P>“Besides, you are a man,” she went on; “and I do not understand how +a man can complain. Have you not the freedom, the strength, and the +right to undertake and to dare any thing? Isn't the world open to +your activity and to your ambition? Woman submits to her fate: man +makes his.” +</P> +<P>This was hurting the dearest pretensions of Maxence, who seriously +thought that he had exhausted the rigors of adversity. +</P> +<P>“There are circumstances,” he began. +</P> +<P>But she shrugged her shoulders gently, and, interrupting him, +</P> +<P>“Do not insist,” she said, “or else I might think that you lack +energy. What are you talking of circumstances? There are none +so adverse but that can be overcome. What would you like, then? +To be born with a hundred thousand francs a year, and have nothing +to do but to live according to your whim of each day, idle, satiated, +a burden upon yourself, useless, or offensive to others? Ah! If I +were a man, I would dream of another fate. I should like to start +from the Foundling Asylum, without a name, and by my will, my +intelligence, my daring, and my labor, make something and somebody +of myself. I would start from nothing, and become every thing!” +</P> +<P>With flashing eyes and quivering nostrils, she drew herself up +proudly. But almost at once, dropping her head, +</P> +<P>“The misfortune is,” she added, “that I am but a woman; and you who +complain, if you only knew—” +</P> +<P>She sat down, and with her elbow on the little table, her head +resting upon her hand, she remained lost in her meditations, her +eyes fixed, as if following through space all the phases of the +eighteen years of her life. +</P> +<P>There is no energy but unbends at some given moment, no will but +has its hour of weakness; and, strong and energetic as was Mlle. +Lucienne, she had been deeply touched by Maxence's act. Had she, +then, found at last upon her path the companion of whom she had +often dreamed in the despairing hours of solitude and wretchedness? +After a few moments, she raised her head, and, looking into +Maxence's eyes with a gaze that made him quiver like the shock of +an electric battery, +</P> +<P>“Doubtless,” she said, in a tone of indifference somewhat forced, +“you think you have in me a strange neighbor. Well, as between +neighbors; it is well to know each other. Before you judge me, +listen.” +</P> +<P>The recommendation was useless. Maxence was listening with all +the powers of his attention. +</P> +<P>“I was brought up,” she began, “in a village of the neighborhood of +Paris,—in Louveciennes. My mother had put me out to nurse with +some honest gardeners, poor, and burdened with a large family. +After two months, hearing nothing of my mother, they wrote to +her: she made no answer. They then went to Paris, and called at +the address she had given them. She had just moved out; and no one +knew what had become of her. They could no longer, therefore, +expect a single sou for the cares they would bestow upon me. They +kept me, nevertheless, thinking that one child the more would not +make much difference. I know nothing of my parents, therefore, +except what I heard through these kind gardeners; and, as I was +still quite young when I had the misfortune to lose them, I have +but a very vague remembrance of what they told me. I remember very +well, however, that according to their statements, my mother was a +young working-woman of rare beauty, and that, very likely, she was +not my father's wife. If I was ever told the name of my mother or +my father, if I ever knew it, I have quite forgotten it. I had +myself no name. My adopted parents called me the Parisian. I was +happy, nevertheless, with these kind people, and treated exactly +like their own children. In winter, they sent me to school; in +summer, I helped weeding the garden. I drove a sheep or two along +the road, or else I went to gather violets and strawberries +through the woods. +</P> +<P>“This was the happiest, indeed, the only happy time of my life, +towards which my thoughts may turn when I feel despair and +discouragement getting the better of me. Alas! I was but eight, +when, within the same week, the gardener and his wife were both +carried off by the same disease,—inflammation of the lungs. +</P> +<P>“On a freezing December morning, in that house upon which the hand +of death had just fallen, we found ourselves, six children, the +oldest of whom was not eleven, crying with grief, fright, cold, +and hunger. +</P> +<P>“Neither the gardener nor his wife had any relatives; and they +left nothing but a few wretched pieces of furniture, the sale of +which barely sufficed to pay the expenses of their funeral. The +two younger children were taken to an asylum: the others were taken +charge of by the neighbors. +</P> +<P>“It was a laundress of Marly who took me. I was quite tall and +strong for my age. She made an apprentice of me. She was not +unkind by nature; but she was violent and brutal in the extreme. +She compelled me to do an excessive amount of work, and often of a +kind above my strength. +</P> +<P>“Fifty times a day, I had to go from the river to the house, +carrying on my shoulders enormous bundles of wet napkins or sheets, +wring them, spread them out, and then run to Rueil to get the soiled +clothes from the customers. I did not complain (I was already too +proud to complain); but, if I was ordered to do something that seemed +to me too unjust, I refused obstinately to obey, and then I was +unmercifully beaten. In spite of all, I might, perhaps, have become +attached to the woman, had she not had the disgusting habit of +drinking. Every week regularly, on the day when she took the clothes +to Paris (it was on Wednesdays), she came home drunk. And then, +according as, with the fumes of the wine, anger or gayety rose to +her brain, there were atrocious scenes or obscene jests. +</P> +<P>“When she was in that condition, she inspired me with horror. And +one Wednesday, as I showed my feelings too plainly, she struck me +so hard, that she broke my arm. I had been with her for twenty +months. The injury she had done me sobered her at once. She +became frightened, overpowered me with caresses, begging me to say +nothing to any one. I promised, and kept faithfully my word. +</P> +<P>“But a physician had to be called in. There had been witnesses who +spoke. The story spread along the river, as far as Bougival and +Rueil. And one morning an officer of gendarmes called at the house; +and I don't exactly know what would have happened, if I had not +obstinately maintained that I had broken my arm in falling down +stairs.” +</P> +<P>What surprised Maxence most was Mlle. Lucienne's simple and natural +tone. No emphasis, scarcely an appearance of emotion. One might +have thought it was somebody's else life that she was narrating. +Meantime she was going on, +</P> +<P>“Thanks to my obstinate denials the woman was not disturbed. But +the truth was known; and her reputation, which was not good before, +became altogether bad. I became an object of interest. The very +same people who had seen me twenty times staggering painfully under +a load of wet clothes, which was terrible, began to pity me +prodigiously because I had had an arm broken, which was nothing. +</P> +<P>“At last a number of our customers arranged to take me out of a +house, in which, they said, I must end by perishing under bad +treatment. +</P> +<P>“And, after many fruitless efforts, they discovered, at last, at +La Jonchere, an old Jewess lady, very rich, and a widow without +children, who consented to take charge of me. +</P> +<P>“I hesitated at first to accept these offers; but noticing that the +laundress, since she had hurt me, had conceived a still greater +aversion for me, I made up my mind to leave her. +</P> +<P>“It was on the day when I was introduced to my new mistress that I +first discovered I had no name. After examining me at length, +turning me around and around, making me walk, and sit down, ‘Now,’ +she inquired, ‘what is your name?’ +</P> +<P>“I stared at her in surprise; for indeed I was then like a savage, +not having the slightest notions of the things of life. +</P> +<P>“‘My name is the Parisian,’ I replied. +</P> +<P>“She burst out laughing, as also another old lady, a friend of hers, +who assisted at my presentation; and I remember that my little pride +was quite offended at their hilarity. I thought they were laughing +at me. +</P> +<P>“‘That's not a name,’ they said at last. ‘That's a nickname.’ +</P> +<P>“‘I have no other.’ +</P> +<P>“They seemed dumfounded, repeating over and over that such a thing +was unheard of; and on the spot they began to look for a name for me. +</P> +<P>“‘Where were you born?’ inquired my new mistress. +</P> +<P>“‘At Louveciennes.’ +</P> +<P>“‘Very well,’ said the other: ‘let us call her Louvecienne.’ +</P> +<P>“A long discussion followed, which irritated me so much that I felt +like running away; and it was agreed at last, that I should be +called, not Louvecienne, but Lucienne; and Lucienne I have remained. +</P> +<P>“There was nothing said about baptism, since my new mistress was a +Jewess. +</P> +<P>“She was an excellent woman, although the grief she had felt at the +loss of her husband had somewhat deranged her faculties. +</P> +<P>“As soon as it was decided that I was to remain, she desired to +inspect my trousseau. I had none to show her, possessing nothing +in the world but the rags on my back. As long as I had remained +with the laundress, I had finished wearing out her old dresses; and +I had never worn any other under-clothing save that which I borrowed, +‘by authority,’ from the clients,—an economical system adopted by +many laundresses. +</P> +<P>“Dismayed at my state of destitution, my new mistress sent for a +seamstress, and at once ordered wherewith to dress and change me. +</P> +<P>“Since the death of the poor gardeners, this was the first time that +any one paid any attention to me, except to exact some service of me. +I was moved to tears; and, in the excess of my gratitude, I would +gladly have died for that kind old lady. +</P> +<P>“This feeling gave me the courage and the constancy required to bear +with her whimsical nature. She had singular manias, disconcerting +fancies, ridiculous and often exorbitant exactions. I lent myself +to it all as best I could. +</P> +<P>“As she already had two servants, a cook and a chambermaid, I had +myself no special duties in the house. I accompanied her when she +went out riding. I helped to wait on her at table, and to dress her. +I picked up her handkerchief when she dropped it; and, above all, I +looked for her snuff-box, which she was continually mislaying. +</P> +<P>“She was pleased with my docility, took much interest in me, and, +that I might read to her, she made me learn to read, for I hardly +knew my letters. And the old man whom she gave me for a teacher, +finding me intelligent, taught me all he knew, I imagine, of French, +of geography, and of history. +</P> +<P>“The chambermaid, on the other hand, had been commissioned to teach +me to sew, to embroider, and to execute all sorts of fancy-work; +and she took the more interest in her lessons, that little by little +she shifted upon me the most tedious part of her work. +</P> +<P>“I would have been happy in that pretty house at La Jonchere, if I +had only had some society better suited to my age than the old women +with whom I was compelled to live, and who scolded me for a loud +word or a somewhat abrupt gesture. What would I not have given to +have been allowed to play with the young girls whom I saw on Sundays +passing in crowds along the road! +</P> +<P>“As time went on, my old mistress became more and more attached to +me, and endeavored in every way to give me proofs of her affection. +I sat at table with her, instead of waiting on her, as at first. +She had given me clothes, so that she could take me and introduce +me anywhere. +</P> +<P>“She went about repeating everywhere that she was as fond of me as +of a daughter; that she intended to set me up in life; and that +certainly she would leave a part of her fortune to me. +</P> +<P>“Alas! She said it too loud, for my misfortune,—so loud, that +the news reached at last the ears of some nephews of hers in Paris, +who came once in a while to La Jonchere. +</P> +<P>“They had never paid much attention to me up to this time. Those +speeches opened their eyes: they noticed what progress I had made +in the heart of their relative; and their cupidity became alarmed. +</P> +<P>“Trembling lest they should lose an inheritance which they +considered as theirs, they united against me, determined to put a +stop to their aunt's generous intentions by having me sent off. +</P> +<P>“But it was in vain, that, for nearly a year, their hatred exhausted +itself in skillful manoeuvres. +</P> +<P>“The instinct of preservation stimulating my perspicacity I had +penetrated their intentions, and I was struggling with all my might. +Every day, to make myself more indispensable, I invented some novel +attention. +</P> +<P>“They only came once a week to La Jonchere: I was there all the time. +I had the advantage. I struggled successfully, and was probably +approaching the end of my troubles, when my poor old mistress was +taken sick. After forty-eight hours, she was very low. She was +fully conscious, but for that very reason she could appreciate the +danger; and the fear of death made her crazy. +</P> +<P>“Her nieces had come to sit by her bedside; and I was expressly +forbidden to enter the room. They had understood that this was an +excellent opportunity to get rid of me forever. +</P> +<P>“Evidently gained in advance, the physicians declared to my poor +benefactress that the air of La Jonchere was fatal to her, and +that her only chance of recovery was to establish herself in Paris. +One of her nephews offered to have her taken to his house in a +litter. She would soon get well, they said; and she could then go +to finish her convalescence in some southern city. +</P> +<P>“Her first word was for me. She did not wish to be separated from +me, she protested, and insisted absolutely upon taking me with her. +Her nephews represented gravely to her that this was an +impossibility; that she must not think of burdening herself with +me; that the simplest thing was to leave me at La Jonchere; and +that, moreover, they would see that I should get a good situation. +</P> +<P>“The sick woman struggled for a long time, and with an energy of +which I would not have thought her capable. +</P> +<P>“But the others were pressing. The physicians kept repeating that +they could not answer for any thing, if she did not follow their +advice. She was afraid of death. She yielded, weeping. +</P> +<P>“The very next morning, a sort of litter, carried by eight men, +stopped in front of the door. My poor mistress was laid into it; +and they carried her off, without even permitting me to kiss her +for the last time. +</P> +<P>“Two hours later, the cook and the chambermaid were dismissed. As +to myself, the nephew who had promised to look after me put a +twenty-franc-piece in my hand saying, ‘Here are your eight days in +advance. Pack up your things immediately, and clear out!’” +</P> +<P>It was impossible that Mlle. Lucienne should not be deeply moved +whilst thus stirring the ashes of her past. She showed no evidence +of it, however, except, now and then, a slight alteration in her +voice. +</P> +<P>As to Maxence, he would vainly have tried to conceal the passionate +interest with which he was listening to these unexpected confidences. +</P> +<P>“Have you, then, never seen your benefactress again?” he asked. +</P> +<P>“Never,” replied Mlle. Lucienne. “All my efforts to reach her have +proved fruitless. She does not live in Paris now. I have written +to her: my letters have remained without answer. Did she ever get +them? I think not. Something tells me that she has not forgotten +me.” +</P> +<P>She remained silent for a few moments, as if collecting herself +before resuming the thread of her narrative. And then, +</P> +<P>“It was thus brutally,” she resumed, “that I was sent off. It +would have been useless to beg, I knew; and, moreover, I have never +known how to beg. I piled up hurriedly in two trunks and in some +bandboxes all I had in the world,—all I had received from the +generosity of my poor mistress; and, before the stated hour, I was +ready. The cook and the chambermaid had already gone. The man who +was treating me so cruelly was waiting for me. He helped me carry +out my boxes and trunks, after which he locked the door, put the +key in his pocket; and, as the American omnibus was passing, he +beckoned to it to stop. And then, before entering it, +</P> +<P>“‘Good luck, my pretty girl!’ he said with a laugh. +</P> +<P>“This was in the month of January, 1866. I was just thirteen. I +have had since more terrible trials, and I have found myself in much +more desperate situations: but I do not remember ever feeling such +intense discouragement as I did that day, when I found myself alone +upon that road, not knowing which way to go. I sat down on one of +my trunks. The weather was cold and gloomy: there were few persons +on the road. They looked at me, doubtless wondering what I was doing +there. I wept. I had a vague feeling that the well-meant kindness +of my poor benefactress, in bestowing upon me the blessings of +education, would in reality prove a serious impediment in the +life-struggle which I was about to begin again. I thought of what +I suffered with the laundress; and, at the idea of the tortures +which the future still held in store for me, I desired death. The +Seine was near: why not put an end at once to the miserable +existence which I foresaw? +</P> +<P>“Such were my reflections, when a woman from Rueil, a +vegetable-vender, whom I knew by sight, happened to pass, pushing +her hand-cart before her over the muddy pavement. She stopped when +she saw me; and, in the softest voice she could command, +</P> +<P>“‘What are you doing there, my darling?’ she asked. +</P> +<P>“In a few words I explained to her my situation. She seemed more +surprised than moved. +</P> +<P>“‘Such is life,’ she remarked,—‘sometimes up, sometimes down.’ +</P> +<P>“And, stepping up nearer, +</P> +<P>“‘What do you expect to do now?’ she interrogated in a tone of voice +so different from that in which she had spoken at first, that I felt +more keenly the horror of my altered situation. +</P> +<P>“‘I have no idea,’ I replied. +</P> +<P>“After thinking for a moment, +</P> +<P>“‘You can't stay there,’ she resumed: ‘the gendarmes would arrest +you. Come with me. We will talk things over at the house; and +I'll give you my advice.’ +</P> +<P>“I was so completely crushed, that I had neither strength nor will. +Besides, what was the use of thinking? Had I any choice of +resolutions? Finally, the woman's offer seemed to me a last favor +of destiny. +</P> +<P>“‘I shall do as you say, madame,’ I replied. +</P> +<P>“She proceeded at once to load up my little baggage on her cart. +We started; and soon we arrived ‘home.’ +</P> +<P>“What she called thus was a sort of cellar, at least twelve inches +lower than the street, receiving its only light through the glass +door, in which several broken panes had been replaced by sheets of +paper. It was revoltingly filthy, and filled with a sickening odor. +On all sides were heaps of vegetables,—cabbages, potatoes, onions. +In one corner a nameless heap of decaying rags, which she called +her bed; in the centre, a small cast-iron stove, the worn-out pipe +of which allowed the smoke to escape in the room. +</P> +<P>“‘Anyway,’ she said to me, ‘you have a home now!’ +</P> +<P>“I helped her to unload the cart. She filled the stove with coal, +and at once declared that she wanted to inspect my things. +</P> +<P>“My trunks were opened; and it was with exclamations of surprise +that the woman handled my dresses, my skirts, my stockings. +</P> +<P>“‘The mischief!’ she exclaimed, ‘you dressed well, didn't you?’ +</P> +<P>“Her eyes sparkled so, that a strong feeling of mistrust arose in +my mind. She seemed to consider all my property as an unexpected +godsend to herself. Her hands trembled as she handled some piece +of jewelry; and she took me to the light that she might better +estimate the value of my ear-rings. +</P> +<P>“And so, when she asked me if I had any money, determined to hide +at least my twenty-franc-piece, which was my sole fortune, I replied +boldly, ‘No.’ +</P> +<P>“‘That's a pity,’ she grumbled. +</P> +<P>“But she wished to know my history, and I was compelled to tell it +to her. One thing only surprised her,—my age; and in fact, though +only thirteen, I looked fully sixteen. +</P> +<P>“When I had done, +</P> +<P>“‘Never mind!’ she said. ‘It was lucky for you that you met me. +You are at least certain now of eating every day; for I am going +to take charge of you. I am getting old: you'll help me to drag +my cart. If you are as smart as you are pretty, we'll make money.’ +</P> +<P>“Nothing could suit me less. But how could I resist? She threw a +few rags upon the floor; and on them I had to sleep. The next day, +wearing my meanest dress, and a pair of wooden shoes which she had +bought for me, and which bruised my feet horribly, I had to harness +myself to the cart by means of a leather strap, which cut my +shoulders and my chest. She was an abominable creature, that woman; +and I soon found out that her repulsive features indicated but too +well her ignoble instincts. After leading a life of vice and shame, +she had, with the approach of old age, fallen into the most abject +poverty, and had adopted the trade of vegetable-vender, which she +carried on just enough to escape absolute starvation. Enraged at +her fate, she found a detestable pleasure in ill-treating me, or +in endeavoring to stain my imagination by the foulest speeches. +</P> +<P>“Ah, if I had only known where to fly, and where to take refuge! +But, abusing my ignorance, that execrable woman had persuaded me, +that, if I attempted to go out alone, I would be arrested. And I +knew no one to whom I could apply for protection and advice. And +then I began to learn that beauty, to a poor girl, is a fatal gift. +One by one, the woman had sold every thing I had,—dresses, +underclothes, jewels; and I was now reduced to rags almost as mean +as when I was with the laundress. +</P> +<P>“Every morning, rain or shine, hot or cold, we started, wheeling +our cart from village to village, all along the Seine, from +Courbevoie to Pont-Marly. I could see no end to this wretched +existence, when one evening the commissary of police presented +himself at our hovel, and ordered us to follow him. +</P> +<P>“We were taken to prison; and there I found myself thrown among +some hundred women, whose faces, words, and gestures frightened +me. The vegetable-woman had committed a theft; and I was accused +of complicity. Fortunately I was easily able to demonstrate my +innocence; and, at the end of two weeks, a jailer opened the door +to me, saying, ‘Go: you are free!’” +</P> +<P>Maxence understood now the gently ironical smile with which Mlle. +Lucienne had heard him assert that he, too, had been very unhappy. +What a life hers had been! And how could such things be within a +step of Paris, in the midst of a society which deems its organization +too perfect to consent to modify it! +</P> +<P>Mlle. Lucienne went on, speaking somewhat faster, +</P> +<P>“I was indeed free; but of what use could my freedom be to me? I +knew not which way to go. A mechanical instinct took me back to +Rueil. I fancied I would be safer among people who all knew me, +and that I might find shelter in our old lodgings. But this +last hope was disappointed. Immediately after our arrest, the +owner of the building had thrown out every thing it contained, and +had rented it to a hideous beggar, who offered me, with a giggle, +to become his housekeeper. I ran off as fast as I could. +</P> +<P>“The situation was certainly more horrible now than the day when +I had been turned out of my benefactress' house. But the eight +months I had just spent with the horrible woman had taught me anew +how to bear misery, and had nerved up my energy. +</P> +<P>“I took out from a fold of my dress, where I had kept it constantly +hid, the twenty-franc-piece I had received; and, as I was hungry, +I entered a sort of eating and lodging house, where I had +occasionally taken a meal. The proprietor was a kind-hearted man. +When I had told him my situation, he invited me to remain with +him until I could find something better. On Sundays and Mondays +the customers were plenty; and he was obliged to take an extra +servant. He offered me that work to do, promising, in exchange, +my lodging and one meal a day. I accepted. The next day being +Sunday, I commenced the arduous duties of a bar-maid in a low +drinking house. My <I>pourboires</I> amounted sometimes to five or ten +francs; I had my board and lodging free; and at the end of three +months I had been able to provide myself with some decent clothing, +and was commencing to accumulate a little reserve, when the +lodging-house keeper, whose business had unexpectedly developed +itself to a considerable extent, concluded to engage a man-waiter, +and urged me to look elsewhere for work. I did so. An old neighbor +of ours told me of a situation at Bougival, where she said I would +be very comfortable. Overcoming my repugnance, I applied, and was +accepted. I was to get thirty francs a month. +</P> +<P>“The place might have been a good one. There were only three in +the family,—the gentleman and his wife, and a son of twenty-five. +Every morning, father and son left for Paris by the first train, +and only came home to dinner at about six o'clock. I was therefore +alone all day with the woman. Unfortunately, she was a cross and +disagreeable person, who, never having had a servant before, felt +an insatiable desire of showing and exercising her authority. She +was, moreover, extremely suspicious, and found some pretext to visit +regularly my trunks once or twice a week, to see if I had not +concealed some of her napkins or silver spoons. Having told her +that I had once been a laundress, she made me wash and iron all the +clothes in the house, and was forever accusing me of using too much +soap and too much coal. Still I liked the place well enough; and I +had a little room in the attic; which I thought charming, and where +I spent delightful evenings reading or sewing. +</P> +<P>“But luck was against me. The young gentleman of the house took a +fancy to me, and determined to make me his mistress. I discouraged +him in a way; but he persisted in his loathsome attention, until one +night he broke into my room, and I was compelled to shout for help +with all my might, before I could get rid of him. +</P> +<P>“The next day I left that house; but I tried in vain to find another +situation in Bougival. I resolved then to seek a place in Paris. +I had a big trunk full of good clothes, and about a hundred francs +of savings; and I felt no anxiety. +</P> +<P>“When I arrived in Paris, I went straight to an intelligence-office. +I was extremely well received by a very affable old woman who +promised to get me a good place, and, in the mean time, solicited +me to board with her. She kept a sort of boarding-house for servants +out of place; and there were there some fifty or sixty of us, who +slept at night in long dormitories. +</P> +<P>“Time went by, and still I did not find that famous place. The +board was expensive, too, for my scanty means; and I determined to +leave. I started in quest of new lodgings, followed by a porter, +carrying my trunk; but as I was crossing the Boulevard, not getting +quick enough out of the way of a handsome private carriage which +was coming at full trot, I was knocked down, and trampled under the +horses's feet.” +</P> +<P>Without allowing Maxence to interrupt her, +</P> +<P>“I had lost consciousness,” went on Mlle. Lucienne. “When I came +to my senses, I was sitting in a drugstore; and three or four +persons were busy around me. I had no fracture, but only some +severe contusions, and a deep cut on the head. +</P> +<P>“The physician who had attended me requested me to try and walk; but +I could not even stand on my feet. Then he asked me where I lived, +that I might be taken there; and I was compelled to own that I was a +poor servant out of place, without a home or a friend to care for me. +</P> +<P>“‘In that case,’ said the doctor to the druggist, ‘we must send her +to the hospital.’ +</P> +<P>“And they sent for a cab. +</P> +<P>“In the mean time, quite a crowd had gathered outside, and the +conduct of the person who was in the carriage that had run over me +was being indignantly criticised. It was a woman; and I had caught +a glimpse of her at the very moment I was falling under the horses' +feet. She had not even condescended to get out of her carriage; +but, calling a policeman, she had given him her name and address, +adding, loud enough to be heard by the crowd, ‘I am in too great a +hurry to stop. My coachman is an awkward fellow, whom I shall +dismiss as soon as I get home. I am ready to pay any thing that +may be asked.’ +</P> +<P>“She had also sent one of her cards for me. A policeman handed it +to me; and I read the name, Baronne de Thaller. +</P> +<P>“‘That's lucky for you,’ said the doctor. ‘That lady is the wife of +a very rich banker; and she will be able to help you when you get +well.’ +</P> +<P>“The cab had now come. I was carried into it; and, an hour later, +I was admitted at the hospital, and laid on a clean, comfortable bed. +</P> +<P>“But my trunk!—my trunk, which contained all my things, all I had +in the world, and, worse still, all the money I had left. I asked +for it, my heart filled with anxiety. No one had either seen or +heard of it. Had the porter missed me in the crowd? or had he +basely availed himself of the accident to rob me? This was hard to +decide. +</P> +<P>“The good sisters promised that they would have it looked after, +and that the police would certainly be able to find that man whom +I had engaged near the intelligence-office. But all these +assurances failed to console me. This blow was the finishing one. +I was taken with fever; and for more than two weeks my life was +despaired of. I was saved at last: but my convalescence was long +and tedious; and for over two months I lingered with alternations +of better and of worse. +</P> +<P>“Yet such had been my misery for the past two years, that this +gloomy stay in a hospital was for me like an oasis in the desert. +The good sisters were very kind to me; and, when I was able, I +helped them with their lighter work, or went to the chapel with +them. I shuddered at the thought that I must leave them as soon +as I was entirely well; and then what would become of me? For my +trunk had not been found, and I was destitute of all. +</P> +<P>“And yet I had, at the hospital, more than one subject for gloomy +reflections. Twice a week, on Thursdays and Sundays, visitors were +admitted; and there was not on those days a single patient who did +not receive a relative or a friend. But I, no one, nothing, never! +</P> +<P>“But I am mistaken. I was commencing to get well, when one Sunday +I saw by my bedside an old man, dressed all in black, of alarming +appearance, wearing blue spectacles, and holding under his arm an +enormous portfolio, crammed full of papers. +</P> +<P>“‘You are Mlle. Lucienne, I believe,’ he asked. +</P> +<P>“‘Yes,’ I replied, quite surprised. +</P> +<P>“‘You are the person who was knocked down by a carriage on the corner +of the Boulevard and the Faubourg St. Martin?’ +</P> +<P>“‘Yes sir.’ +</P> +<P>“‘Do you know whose equipage that was?’ +</P> +<P>“‘The Baronne de Thaller's, I was told.’ +</P> +<P>“He seemed a little surprised, but at once, +</P> +<P>“‘Have you seen that lady, or caused her to be seen in your behalf?’ +</P> +<P>“‘No.’ +</P> +<P>“‘Have you heard from her in any manner?’ +</P> +<P>“‘No.’ +</P> +<P>“A smile came back upon his lips. +</P> +<P>“‘Luckily for you I am here,’ he said. ‘Several times already I have +called; but you were too unwell to hear me. Now that you are better, +listen.’ +</P> +<P>“And thereupon, taking a chair, he commenced to explain his +profession to me. +</P> +<P>“He was a sort of broker; and accidents were his specialty. As +soon as one took place, he was notified by some friends of his at +police headquarters. At once he started in quest of the victim, +overtook her at home or at the hospital, and offered his services. +For a moderate commission he undertook, if needs be, to recover +damages. He commenced suit when necessary; and, if he thought the +case tolerably safe, he made advances. He stated, for instance, +that my case was a plain one, and that he would undertake to obtain +four or five thousand francs, at least, from Mme. de Thaller. All +he wanted was my power of attorney. But, in spite of his pressing +instances, I declined his offers; and he withdrew, very much +displeased, assuring me that I would soon repent. +</P> +<P>“Upon second thought, indeed, I regretted to have followed the first +inspiration of my pride, and the more so, that the good sisters whom +I consulted on the subject told me that I was wrong, and that my +reclamation would be perfectly proper. At their suggestion, I then +adopted another line of conduct, which, they thought, would as surely +bring about the same result. +</P> +<P>“As briefly as possible, I wrote out the history of my life from +the day I had been left with the gardeners at Louveciennes. I added +to it a faithful account of my present situation; and I addressed +the whole to Mme. de Thaller. +</P> +<P>“‘You'll see if she don't come before a day or two,’ said the sisters. +</P> +<P>“They were mistaken. Mme. de Thaller came neither the next nor the +following days; and I was still awaiting her answer, when, one +morning, the doctor announced that I was well enough to leave the +hospital. +</P> +<P>“I cannot say that I was very sorry. I had lately made the +acquaintance of a young workwoman, who had been sent to the hospital +in consequence of a fall, and who occupied the bed next to mine. +She was a girl of about twenty, very gentle, very obliging, and whose +amiable countenance had attracted me from the first. +</P> +<P>“Like myself, she had no parents. But she was rich, very rich. She +owned the furniture of the room, a sewing-machine, which had cost +her three hundred francs, and, like a true child of Paris, she +understood five or six trades, the least lucrative of which yielded +her twenty-five or thirty cents a day. In less than a week, we had +become good friends; and, when she left the hospital, +</P> +<P>“‘Believe me,’ she said: ‘when you come out yourself, don't waste +your time looking for a place. Come to me: I can accommodate you. +I'll teach you what I know; and, if you are industrious, you'll make +your living, and you'll be free.’ +</P> +<P>“It was to her room that I went straight from the hospital, carrying, +tied in a handkerchief, my entire baggage,—one dress, and a few +undergarments that the good sisters had given me. +</P> +<P>“She received me like a sister, and after showing me her lodging, +two little attic-rooms shining with cleanliness, +</P> +<P>“‘You'll see,’ she said, kissing me, ‘how happy we'll be here.’” +</P> +<P>It was getting late. M. Fortin had long ago come up and put out +the gas on the stairs. One by one, every noise had died away in +the hotel. Nothing now disturbed the silence of the night save +the distant sound of some belated cab on the Boulevard. But neither +Maxence nor Mlle. Lucienne were noticing the flight of time, so +interested were they, one in telling, and the other in listening to, +this story of a wonderful existence. However, Mlle. Lucienne's +voice had become hoarse with fatigue. She poured herself a glass +of water, which she emptied at a draught, and then at once, +</P> +<P>“Never yet,” she resumed, “had I been agitated by such a sweet +sensation. My eyes were full of tears; but they were tears of +gratitude and joy. After so many years of isolation, to meet with +such a friend, so generous, and so devoted: it was like finding a +family. For a few weeks, I thought that fate had relented at last. +My friend was an excellent workwoman; but with some intelligence, +and the will to learn, I soon knew as much as she did. +</P> +<P>“There was plenty of work. By working twelve hours, with the help +of the thrice-blessed sewing-machine, we succeeded in making six, +seven, and even eight francs a day. It was a fortune. +</P> +<P>“Thus several months elapsed in comparative comfort. +</P> +<P>“Once more I was afloat, and I had more clothes than I had lost in +my trunk. I liked the life I was leading; and I would be leading +it still, if my friend had not one day fallen desperately in love +with a young man she had met at a ball. I disliked him very much, +and took no trouble to conceal my feelings: nevertheless, my friend +imagined that I had designs upon him, and became fiercely jealous +of me. Jealousy does not reason; and I soon understood that we +would no longer be able to live in common, and that I must look +elsewhere for shelter. But my friend gave me no time to do so. +</P> +<P>“Coming home one Monday night at about eleven, she notified me to +clear out at once. I attempted to expostulate: she replied with +abuse. Rather than enter upon a degrading struggle, I yielded, +and went out. +</P> +<P>“That night I spent on a chair in a neighbor's room. But the next +day, when I went for my things, my former friend refused to give +them, and presumed to keep every thing. I was compelled, though +reluctantly, to resort to the intervention of the commissary of +police. +</P> +<P>“I gained my point. But the good days had gone. Luck did not follow +me to the wretched furnished house where I hired a room. I had no +sewing-machine, and but few acquaintances. By working fifteen or +sixteen hours a day, I made thirty or forty cents. That was not +enough to live on. Then work failed me altogether, and, piece by +piece, every thing I had went to the pawnbroker's. On a gloomy +December morning, I was turned out of my room, and left on the +pavement with a ten-cent-piece for my fortune. +</P> +<P>“Never had I been so low; and I know not to what extremities I might +have come at last, when I happened to think of that wealthy lady +whose horses had upset me on the Boulevard. I had kept her card. +Without hesitation, I went unto a grocery, and calling for some +paper and a pen, I wrote, overcoming the last struggle of my pride, +</P> +<P>“‘Do you remember, madame, a poor girl whom your carriage came near +crushing to death? Once before she applied to you, and received no +answer. She is to-day without shelter and without bread; and you +are her supreme hope.’ +</P> +<P>“I placed these few lines in an envelope, and ran to the address +indicated on the card. It was a magnificent residence, with a vast +court-yard in front. In the porter's lodge, five or six servants +were talking as I came in, and looked at me impudently, from head +to foot, when I requested them to take my letter to Mme. de Thaller. +One of them, however, took pity on me, +</P> +<P>“‘Come with me,’ he said, ‘come along!’ +</P> +<P>“He made me cross the yard, and enter the vestibule; and then, +</P> +<P>“‘Give me your letter,’ he said, ‘and wait here for me.’” +</P> +<P>Maxence was about to express the thoughts which Mme. de Thaller's +name naturally suggested to his mind, but Mlle. Lucienne interrupted +him, +</P> +<P>“In all my life,” she went on, “I had never seen any thing so +magnificent as that vestibule with its tall columns, its tessellated +floor, its large bronze vases filled with the rarest flowers, and +its red velvet benches, upon which tall footmen in brilliant livery +were lounging. +</P> +<P>“I was, I confess, somewhat intimidated by all of this splendor; and +I remained awkwardly standing, when suddenly the servants stood up +respectfully. +</P> +<P>“A door had just opened, through which appeared a man already past +middle age, tall, thin, dressed in the extreme of fashion, and +wearing long red whiskers falling over his chest.” +</P> +<P>“The Baron de Thaller,” murmured Maxence. +</P> +<P>Mlle. Lucienne took no notice of the interruption. +</P> +<P>“The attitude of the servants,” she went on, “had made me easily +guess that he was the master. I was bowing to him, blushing and +embarrassed, when, noticing me, he stopped short, shuddering from +head to foot. +</P> +<P>“‘Who are you?’ he asked me roughly. +</P> +<P>“I attributed his manner to the sad condition of my dress, which +appeared more miserable and more dilapidated still amid the +surrounding splendors; and, in a scarcely intelligible voice, I began, +</P> +<P>“‘I am a poor girl, sir—’ +</P> +<P>“But he interrupted me. +</P> +<P>“‘To the point! What do you want?’ +</P> +<P>“‘I am awaiting an answer, sir, to a request which I have just +forwarded to the baroness.’ +</P> +<P>“‘What about?’ +</P> +<P>“‘Once sir, I was run over in the street by the baroness's carriage: +I was severely wounded, and had to be taken to the hospital.’ +</P> +<P>“I fancied there was something like terror in the man's look. +</P> +<P>“‘It is you, then, who once before sent a long letter to my wife, in +which you told the story of your life?’ +</P> +<P>“‘Yes, sir, it was I.’ +</P> +<P>“‘You stated in that letter that you had no parents, having been +left by your mother with some gardeners at Louveciennes?’ +</P> +<P>“‘That is the truth.’ +</P> +<P>“‘What has become of these gardeners?’ +</P> +<P>“‘They are dead.’ +</P> +<P>“‘What was your mother's name?’ +</P> +<P>“‘I never knew.’ +</P> +<P>“To M. de Thaller's first surprise had succeeded a feeling of +evident irritation; but, the more haughty and brutal his manners, +the cooler and the more self-possessed I became. +</P> +<P>“‘And you are soliciting assistance?’ he said. +</P> +<P>“I drew myself up, and, looking at him straight in the eyes, +</P> +<P>“‘I beg your pardon,’ I replied: ‘it is a legitimate indemnity which +I claim.’ +</P> +<P>“Indeed, it seemed to me that my firmness alarmed him. With a +feverish haste, he began to feel in his pockets. He took out their +contents of gold and bank-notes all in a heap, and, thrusting it +into my hands without counting, +</P> +<P>“‘Here,’ he said, ‘take this. Are you satisfied?’ +</P> +<P>“I observed to him, that, having sent a letter to Mme. de Thaller, +it would perhaps be proper to await her answer. But he replied that +it was not necessary, and, pushing me towards the door, +</P> +<P>“‘You may depend upon it,’ he said, ‘I shall tell my wife that I +saw you.’ +</P> +<P>“I started to go out; but I had not gone ten steps across the yard, +when I heard him crying excitedly to his servants, +</P> +<P>“‘You see that beggar, don't you? Well, the first one who allows +her to cross the threshold of my door shall be turned out on the +instant.’ +</P> +<P>“A beggar, I! Ah the wretch! I turned round to cast his alms into +his face; but already he had disappeared, and I only found before me +the footman, chuckling stupidly. +</P> +<P>“I went out; and, as my anger gradually passed off, I felt thankful +that I had been unable to follow the dictates of my wounded pride. +</P> +<P>“‘Poor girl,’ I thought to myself, ‘where would you be at this hour? +You would only have to select between suicide and the vilest +existence; whereas now you are above want.’ +</P> +<P>“I was passing before a small restaurant. I went in; for I was +very hungry, having, so to speak, eaten nothing for several days +past. Besides, I felt anxious to count my treasure. The Baron de +Thaller had given me nine hundred and thirty francs. +</P> +<P>“This sum, which exceeded the utmost limits of my ambition, seemed +inexhaustible to me: I was dazzled by its possession. +</P> +<P>“‘And yet,’ I thought, ‘had M. de Thaller happened to have ten +thousand francs in his pockets he would have given them to me all +the same.’ +</P> +<P>“I was at a loss to explain this strange generosity. Why his +surprise when he first saw me, then his anger, and his haste to get +rid of me? How was it that a man whose mind must be filled with +the gravest cares had so distinctly remembered me, and the letter +I had written to his wife? Why, after showing himself so generous, +had he so strictly excluded me from his house? +</P> +<P>“After vainly trying for some time to solve this riddle, I concluded +that I must be the victim of my own imagination; and I turned my +attention to making the best possible use of my sudden fortune. On +the same day, I took a little room in the Faubourg St. Denis; and +I bought myself a sewing-machine. Before the week was over, I had +work before me for several months. Ah! this time it seemed indeed +that I had nothing more to apprehend from destiny; and I looked +forward, without fear, to the future. At the end of a month, I was +earning four to five francs a day, when, one afternoon, a stout man, +very well dressed, looking honest and good-natured, and speaking +French with some difficulty, made his appearance at my room. He +was an American he stated, and had been sent to me by the woman for +whom I worked. Having need of a skilled Parisian work-woman, he +came to propose to me to follow him to New York, where he would +insure me a brilliant position. +</P> +<P>“But I knew several poor girls, who, on the faith of dazzling +promises, had expatriated themselves. Once abroad, they had been +shamefully abandoned, and had been driven, to escape starvation, +to resort to the vilest expedients. I refused, therefore, and +frankly gave him my reasons for doing so. +</P> +<P>“My visitor at once protested indignantly. Whom did I take him +for? It was a fortune that I was refusing. He guaranteed me in +New York board, lodging, and two hundred francs a month. He would +pay all traveling and moving expenses. And, to prove to me the +fairness of his intentions, he was ready, he said, to sign an +agreement, and pay me a thousand down. +</P> +<P>“These offers were so brilliant, that I was staggered in my +resolution. +</P> +<P>“‘Well,’ I said, ‘give me twenty-four hours to decide. I wish to +see my employer.’ +</P> +<P>“He seemed very much annoyed; but, as I remained firm in my purpose, +he left, promising to return the next day to receive my final answer. +</P> +<P>“I ran at once to my employer. She did not know what I was talking +about. She had sent no one, and was not acquainted with any American. +</P> +<P>“Of course, I never saw him again; and I couldn't help thinking of +this singular adventure, when, one evening during the following +week, as I was coming home at about eleven o'clock, two policemen +arrested me, and, in spite of my earnest protestations, took me +to the station-house, where I was locked up with a dozen unfortunates +who had just been taken up on the Boulevards. I spent the night +crying with shame and anger; and I don't know what would have become +of me, if the justice of the peace, who examined me the next morning, +had not happened to be a just and kind man. As soon as I had +explained to him that I was the victim of a most humiliating error +he sent an agent in quest of information, and having satisfied +himself that I was an honest girl, working for my living, he +discharged me. But, before permitting me to go, +</P> +<P>“‘Beware, my child,’ he said to me: ‘it is upon a formal and +well-authenticated declaration that you were arrested. Therefore +you must have enemies. People have an interest in getting rid of +you.’” +</P> +<P>Mademoiselle Lucienne was evidently almost exhausted with fatigue: +her voice was failing her. But it was in vain that Maxence begged +her to take a few moments of rest. +</P> +<P>“No,” she answered, “I'd rather get through as quick as possible.” +</P> +<P>And, making an effort, she resumed her narrative, hurrying more +and more. +</P> +<P>“I returned home, my mind all disturbed by the judge's warnings. +I am no coward; but it is a terrible thing to feel one's self +incessantly threatened by an unknown and mysterious danger, against +which nothing can be done. +</P> +<P>“In vain did I search my past life: I could think of no one who +could have any interest in effecting my ruin. Those alone have +enemies who have had friends. I had never had but one friend, the +kind-hearted girl who had turned me out of her home in a fit of +absurd jealousy. But I knew her well enough to knew that she was +incapable of malice, and that she must long since have forgotten +the unlucky cause of our rupture. +</P> +<P>“Weeks after weeks passed without any new incident. I had plenty +of work and was earning enough money to begin saving. So I felt +comfortable, laughed at my former fears, and neglected the +precautions which I had taken at first; when, one evening, my +employer, having a very important and pressing order, sent for me. +We did not get through our work until long after midnight. +</P> +<P>“She wished me to spend the rest of the night with her; but it would +have been necessary to make up a bed for me, and disturb the whole +household. +</P> +<P>“‘Bash!’ I said, ‘this will not be the first time I cross Paris in +the middle of the night.’ +</P> +<P>“I started; and I was going along, walking as fast as I could, when, +from the angle of a dark, narrow street, a man sprang upon me, +threw me down, struck me, and would doubtless have killed me, but +for two brave gentlemen who heard my screams and rushed to my +assistance. The man ran off; and I was able to walk the rest of +the way home, having received but a very slight wound. +</P> +<P>“But the very next morning I ran to see my friend, the justice of +the peace. He listened to me gravely, and, when I had concluded, +</P> +<P>“‘How were you dressed?’ he inquired. +</P> +<P>“‘All in black,’ I replied, ‘very modestly, like a workwoman.’ +</P> +<P>“‘Had you nothing on your person that could tempt a thief?’ +</P> +<P>“‘Nothing. No watch-chain, no jewelry, no ear-rings even.’ +</P> +<P>“‘Then,’ he uttered, knitting his brows, ‘it is not a fortuitous +crime: it is another attempt on the part of your enemies.’ +</P> +<P>“Such was also my opinion. And yet: +</P> +<P>“‘But, sir,’ I exclaimed, ‘who can have any interest to destroy me, +—a poor obscure girl as I am? I have thought carefully and well, +and I have not a single enemy that I can think of.’ And, as I had +full confidence in his kindness, I went on telling him the story +of my life. +</P> +<P>“‘You are a natural child,’ he said as soon as I had done, ‘and you +have been basely abandoned. That fact alone would be sufficient to +justify every supposition. You do not know your parents; but it is +quite possible that they may know you, and that they may never have +lost sight of you. Your mother was a working-girl, you think? That +may be. But your father? Do you know what interests your existence +may threaten? Do you know what elaborate edifice of falsehood and +infamy your sudden appearance might tumble to the ground?’ +</P> +<P>“I was listening dumfounded. +</P> +<P>“Never had such conjectures crossed my mind; and, whilst I doubted +their probability, I had, at least, to admit their possibility. +</P> +<P>“‘What must I do, then?’ I inquired. +</P> +<P>“The peace-officer shook his head. +</P> +<P>“‘Indeed, my poor child, I hardly know what to advise. The police +is not omnipotent. It can do nothing to anticipate a crime conceived +in the brain of an unknown scoundrel.’ +</P> +<P>“I was terrified. He saw it, and took pity on me. +</P> +<P>“‘In your place,’ he added, ‘I would change my domicile. You might, +perhaps, thus make them lose your track. And, above all, do not +fail to give me your new address. Whatever I can do to protect you, +and insure your safety, I shall do.’ +</P> +<P>“That excellent man has kept his word; and once again I owed my +safety to him. 'Tis he who is now commissary of police in this +district, and who protected me against Mme. Fortin. I hastened to +follow his advice, and two days later I had hired the room in this +house in which I am still living. In order to avoid every chance +of discovery, I left my employer, and requested her to say, if any +one came to inquire after me, that I had gone to America. +</P> +<P>“I soon found work again in a very fashionable dress-making +establishment, the name of which you must have heard,—Van Klopen's. +Unfortunately, war had just been declared. Every day announced a new +defeat. The Prussians were coming; then the siege began. Van Klopen +had closed his shop, and left Paris. I had a few savings, thank +heaven; and I husbanded them as carefully as shipwrecked mariners do +their last ration of food, when I unexpectedly found some work. +</P> +<P>“It was one Sunday, and I had gone out to see some battalions of +National Guards passing along the Boulevard, when suddenly I saw +one of the vivandieres, who was marching behind the band, stop, and +run towards me with open arms. It was my old friend from the +Batignolles, who had recognized me. She threw her arms around my +neck, and, as we had at once become the centre of a group of at +least five hundred idlers, +</P> +<P>“‘I must speak to you,’ she said. ‘If you live in the neighborhood, +let's go to your room. The service can wait.’ +</P> +<P>“I brought her here, and at once she commenced to excuse herself +for her past conduct, begging me to restore her my friendship. As +I expected, she had long since forgotten the young man, cause of +our rupture. But she was now in love, and seriously this time, she +declared, with a furniture-maker, who was a captain in the National +Guards. It was through him that she had become a vivandiere; and +she offered me a similar position, if I wished it. But I did not +wish it; and, as I was complaining that I could find no work, she +swore that she would get me some through her captain, who was a very +influential man. +</P> +<P>“Through him, I did in fact obtain a few dozen jackets to make. +This work was very poorly paid; but the little I earned was that +much less to take from my humble resources. In that way I managed +to get through the siege without suffering too much. +</P> +<P>“After the armistice, unfortunately, M. Van Klopen had not yet +returned. I was unable to procure any work; my resources were +exhausted; and I would have starved during the Commune, but for +my old friend, who several times brought me a little money, and +some provisions. Her captain was now a colonel, and was about to +become a member of the government; at least, so she assured me. +The entrance of the troops into Paris put an end to her dream. +One night she came to me livid with fright. She supposed herself +gravely compromised, and begged me to hide her. For four days +she remained with me. On the fifth, just as we were sitting down +to dinner, my room was invaded by a number of police-agents, who +showed us an order of arrest, and commanded us to follow them. +</P> +<P>“My friend sank down upon a chair, stupid with fright. But I +retained my presence of mind, and persuaded one of the agents to +go and notify my friend the justice. He happened luckily to be at +home, and at once hastened to my assistance. He could do nothing, +however, for the moment; the agents having positive orders to take +us straight to Versailles. +</P> +<P>“‘Well,’ said he, ‘I shall accompany you.’ +</P> +<P>“From the very first steps he took the next morning, he discovered +that my position was indeed grave. But he also and very clearly +recognized a new device of the enemy to bring about my destruction. +The information filed against me stated that I had remained in the +service of the Commune to the last moment; that I had been seen +behind the barricades with a gun in my hand; and that I had formed +one of a band of vile incendiaries. This infamous scheme had +evidently been suggested by my relations with my friend from the +Batignolles, who was still more terribly compromised than she +thought, the poor girl; her colonel having been captured, and +convicted of pillage and murder, and herself charged with complicity. +</P> +<P>“Isolated as I was, without resources, and without relatives, I +would certainly have perished, but for the devoted efforts of my +friend the justice, whose official position gave him access +everywhere, and enabled him to reach my judges. He succeeded in +demonstrating my entire innocence; and after forty-eight hours' +detention, which seemed an age to me, I was set at liberty. +</P> +<P>“At the door; I found the man who had just saved me. He was waiting +for me, but would not suffer me to express the gratitude with which +my heart overflowed. +</P> +<P>“‘You will thank me,’ he said, ‘when I have deserved it better. I +have done nothing as yet that any honest man wouldn't have done in +my place. What I wish is to discover what interests you are +threatening without knowing it, and which must be considerable, if +I may judge by the passion and the tenacity of those who are +pursuing you. What I desire to do is to lay hands upon the cowardly +rascals in whose way you seem to stand.’ +</P> +<P>“I shook my head. +</P> +<P>“‘You will not succeed,’ I said to him. +</P> +<P>“‘Who knows? I've done harder things than that in my life.’ +</P> +<P>“And taking a large envelope from his pocket, +</P> +<P>“‘This,’ he said, ‘is the letter which caused your arrest. I have +examined it attentively; and I am certain that the handwriting is +not disguised. That's something to start with, and may enable me +to verify my suspicions, should any occur to my mind. In the mean +time, return quietly to Paris, resume your ordinary occupations, +answer vaguely any questions that may be asked about this matter, +and above all, never mention my name. Remain at the Hotel des +Folies: it is in my district, in my legitimate sphere of action; +besides, the proprietors are in a position where they dare not +disobey my orders. Never come to my office, unless something grave +and unforeseen should occur. Our chances of success would be +seriously compromised, if they could suspect the interest I take +in your welfare. Keep your eyes open on every thing that is going +on around you, and, if you notice any thing suspicious, write to me. +I will myself organize a secret surveillance around you. If I can +bag one of the rascals who are watching you, that's all I want.’ +</P> +<P>“‘And now,’ added this good man, ‘good-by. Patience and courage.’ +</P> +<P>“Unfortunately he had not thought of offering me a little money: I +had not dared to ask him for any, and I had but eight sous left. +It was on foot, therefore, that I was compelled to return to Paris. +</P> +<P>“Mme. Fortin received me with open arms. With me returned the hope +of recovering the hundred and odd francs which I owed her, and +which she had given up for lost. Moreover, she had excellent news +for me. M. Van Klopen had sent for me during my absence, requesting +me to call at his shop. Tired as I was, I went to see him at once. +I found him very much downcast by the poor prospects of business. +Still he was determined to go on, and offered to employ me, not as +work-woman, as heretofore, but to try on garments for customers, at +a salary of one hundred and twenty francs a month. I was not in a +position to be very particular. I accepted; and there I am still. +</P> +<P>“Every morning, when I get to the shop, I take off this simple +costume, and I put on a sort of livery that belongs to M. Van Klopen, +—wide skirts, and a black silk dress. +</P> +<P>“Then whenever a customer comes who wants a cloak, a mantle, or +some other ‘wrapping,’ I step up and put on the garment, that the +purchaser may see how it looks. I have to walk, to turn around, +sit down, etc. It is absurdly ridiculous, often humiliating; and +many a time, during the first days, I felt tempted to give back +to M. Van Klopen his black silk dress. +</P> +<P>“But the conjectures of my friend the peace-officer were constantly +agitating my brain. Since I thought I had discovered a mystery in +my existence, I indulged in all sorts of fancies, and was momentarily +expecting some extraordinary occurrence, some compensation of destiny, +and I remained. +</P> +<P>“But I was not yet at the end of my troubles.” +</P> +<P>Since she had been speaking of M. Van Klopen, Mlle. Lucienne seemed +to have lost her tone of haughty assurance and imperturbable +coolness; and it was with a look of mingled confusion and sadness +that she went on. +</P> +<P>“What I was doing at Van Klopen's was exceedingly painful to me; +and yet he very soon asked me to do something more painful still. +Gradually Paris was filling up again. The hotels had re-opened; +foreigners were pouring in; and the Bois Boulogne was resuming +its wonted animation. Still but few orders came in, and those for +dresses of the utmost simplicity, of dark color and plain material, +on which it was hard to make twenty-five per cent profit. Van +Klopen was disconsolate. He kept speaking to me of the good old +days, when some of his customers spent as much as thirty thousand +francs a month for dresses and trifles, until one day, +</P> +<P>“‘You are the only one,’ he told me, ‘who can help me out just +now. You are really good looking; and I am sure that in full dress, +spread over the cushions of a handsome carriage, you would create +quite a sensation, and that all the rest of the women would be +jealous of you, and would wish to look like you. There needs but +one, you know, to give the good example.’” +</P> +<P>Maxence started up suddenly, and, striking his head with hand, +</P> +<P>“Ah, I understand now!” he exclaimed. +</P> +<P>“I thought that Van Klopen was jesting,” went on the young girl. +“But he had never been more in earnest; and, to prove it, he +commenced explaining to me what he wanted. He proposed to get up +for me some of those costumes which are sure to attract attention; +and two or three times a week he would send me a fine carriage, and +I would go and show myself in the Bois. +</P> +<P>“I felt disgusted at the proposition. +</P> +<P>“‘Never!’ I said. +</P> +<P>“‘Why not?’ +</P> +<P>“‘Because I respect myself too much to make a living advertisement +of myself.’ +</P> +<P>“He shrugged his shoulders. +</P> +<P>“‘You are wrong,’ he said. ‘You are not rich, and I would give you +twenty francs for each ride. At the rate of eight rides a month, it +would be one hundred and sixty francs added to your wages. Besides,’ +he added with a wink, ‘it would be an excellent opportunity to make +your fortune. Pretty as you are, who knows but what some millionaire +might take a fancy to you!’ +</P> +<P>“I felt indignant. +</P> +<P>“‘For that reason alone, if for no other,’ I exclaimed, ‘I refuse.’ +</P> +<P>“‘You are a little fool,’ he replied. ‘If you do not accept, you +cease being in my employment. Reflect!’ +</P> +<P>“My mind was already made up, and I was thinking of looking out for +some other occupation, when I received a note from my friend the +peace-officer, requesting me to call at his office. +</P> +<P>“I did so, and, after kindly inviting me to a seat, +</P> +<P>“‘Well,’ he said, ‘what is there new?’ +</P> +<P>“‘Nothing. I have noticed no one watching me.’ +</P> +<P>“He looked annoyed. +</P> +<P>“‘My agents have not detected any thing, either,’ he grumbled. +‘And yet it is evident that your enemies cannot have given it up +so. They are sharp ones: if they keep quiet, it is because they +are preparing some good trick. What it is I must and shall find +out. Already I have an idea which would be an excellent one, if I +could discover some way of throwing you among what is called good +society.’ +</P> +<P>“I explained to him, that, being employed at Van Klopen's, I had an +opportunity to see there many ladies of the best society. +</P> +<P>“‘That is not enough,’ he said. +</P> +<P>“Then M. Van Klopen's propositions came back to my mind, and I +stated them to him. +</P> +<P>“‘Just the thing!’ he exclaimed, starting upon his chair: ‘a manifest +proof that luck is with us. You must accept.’ +</P> +<P>“I felt bound to tell him my objections, which reflection had much +increased. +</P> +<P>“‘I know but too well,’ I said, ‘what must happen if I accept this +odious duty. Before I have been four times to the Bois, I shall be +noticed, and every one will imagine that they know for what purpose +I come there. I shall be assailed with vile offers. True, I have no +fears for myself. I shall always be better guarded by my pride than +by the most watchful of parents. But my reputation will be lost.’ +</P> +<P>“I failed to convince him. +</P> +<P>“‘I know very well that you are an honest girl,’ he said to me; ‘but, +for that very reason, what do you care what all these people will +think, whom you do not know? Your future is at stake. I repeat it, +you must accept.’ +</P> +<P>“‘If you command me to do so,’ I said. +</P> +<P>“‘Yes, I command you; and I'll explain to you why.’” +</P> +<P>For the first time, Mlle. Lucienne manifested some reticence, and +omitted to repeat the explanations of the peace-officer. And, +after a few moments' pause, +</P> +<P>“You know the rest, neighbor,” she said, “since you have seen me +yourself in that inept and ridiculous role of living advertisement, +of fashionable lay-figure; and the result has been just as I +expected. Can you find any one who believes in my honesty of +purpose? You have heard Mme. Fortin to-night? Yourself, neighbor +—what did you take me for? And yet you should have noticed +something of my suffering and my humiliation the day that you were +watching me so closely in the Bois de Boulogne.” +</P> +<P>“What!” exclaimed Maxence with a start, “you know?” +</P> +<P>“Have I not just told you that I always fear being watched and +followed, and that I am always on the lookout? Yes, I know that +you tried to discover the secret of my rides.” +</P> +<P>Maxence tried to excuse himself. +</P> +<P>“That will do for the present,” she uttered. “You wish to be my +friend, you say? Now that you know my whole life almost as well +as I do myself, reflect, and to-morrow you will tell me the result +of your thoughts.” +</P> +<P>Whereupon she went out. +</P> + + +<H2>XXVIII + +</H2><P>For about a minute Maxence remained stupefied at this sudden +denouement; and, when he had recovered his presence of mind and his +voice, Mlle. Lucienne had disappeared, and he could hear her bolting +her door, and striking a match against the wall. +</P> +<P>He might also have thought that he was awaking from a dream, had he +not had, to attest the reality, the vague perfume which filled his +room, and the light shawl, which Mlle. Lucienne wore as she came in, +and which she had forgotten, on a chair. +</P> +<P>The night was almost ended: six o'clock had just struck. Still he +did not feel in the least sleepy. His head was heavy, his temples +throbbing, his eyes smarting. Opening his window, he leaned out to +breathe the morning air. The day was dawning pale and cold. A +furtive and livid light glanced along the damp walls of the narrow +court of the Hotel des Folies, as at the bottom of a well. Already +arose those confused noises which announce the waking of Paris, and +above which can be heard the sonorous rolling of the milkmen's carts, +the loud slamming of doors, and the sharp sound of hurrying steps on +the hard pavement. +</P> +<P>But soon Maxence felt a chill coming over him. He closed the window, +threw some wood in the chimney, and stretched himself on his chair, +his feet towards the fire. It was a most serious event which had +just occurred in his existence; and, as much as he could, he +endeavored to measure its bearings, and to calculate its consequences +in the future. +</P> +<P>He kept thinking of the story of that strange girl, her haughty +frankness when unrolling certain phases of her life, of her +wonderful impassibility, and of the implacable contempt for humanity +which her every word betrayed. Where had she learned that dignity, +so simple and so noble, that measured speech, that admirable respect +of herself, which had enabled her to pass through so much filth +without receiving a stain? +</P> +<P>“What a woman!” he thought. +</P> +<P>Before knowing her, he loved her. Now he was convulsed by one of +those exclusive passions which master the whole being. Already he +felt himself so much under the charm, subjugated, dominated, +fascinated; he understood so well that he was going to cease being +his own master; that his free will was about escaping from him; +that he would be in Mlle. Lucienne's hands like wax under the +modeler's fingers; he saw himself so thoroughly at the discretion +of an energy superior to his own, that he was almost frightened. +</P> +<P>“It's my whole future that I am going to risk,” he thought. +</P> +<P>And there was no middle path. Either he must fly at once, without +waiting for Mlle. Lucienne to awake, fly without looking behind, or +else stay, and then accept all the chances of an incurable passion +for a woman who, perhaps, might never care for him. And he remained +wavering, like the traveler who finds himself at the intersection +of two roads, and, knowing that one leads to the goal, and the other +to an abyss, hesitates which to take. +</P> +<P>With this difference, however, that if the traveler errs, and +discovers his error, he is always free to retrace his steps; whereas +man, in life, can never return to his starting-point. Every step he +takes is final; and if he has erred, if he has taken the fatal road, +there is no remedy. +</P> +<P>“Well, no matter!” exclaimed Maxence. “It shall not be said that +through cowardice I have allowed that happiness to escape which +passes within my reach. I shall stay.” And at once he began to +examine what reasonably he might expect; for there was no mistaking +Mlle. Lucienne's intentions. When she had said, “Do you wish to be +friends?” she had meant exactly that, and nothing else,—friends, +and only friends. +</P> +<P>“And yet,” thought Maxence, “if I had not inspired her with a real +interest, would she have so wholly confided unto me? She is not +ignorant of the fact that I love her; and she knows life too well +to suppose that I will cease to love her when she has allowed me a +certain amount of intimacy.” +</P> +<P>His heart filled with hope at the idea. +</P> +<P>“My mistress,” he thought, “never, evidently, but my wife. Why not?” +</P> +<P>But the very next moment he became a prey to the bitterest +discouragement. He thought that perhaps Mlle. Lucienne might have +some capital interest in thus making a confidant of him. She had +not told him the explanation given her by the peace-officer. Had +she not, perhaps, succeeded in lifting a corner of the veil which +covered the secret of her birth? Was she on the track of her +enemies? and had she discovered the motive of their animosity? +</P> +<P>“Is it possible,” thought Maxence, “that I should be but one of the +powers in the game she is playing? How do I know, that, if she wins, +she will not cast me off?” +</P> +<P>In the midst of these thoughts, he had gradually fallen asleep, +murmuring to the last the name of Lucienne. +</P> +<P>The creaking of his opening door woke him up suddenly. He started +to his feet, and met Mlle. Lucienne coming in. +</P> +<P>“How is this?” said she. “You did not go to bed?” +</P> +<P>“You recommended me to reflect,” he replied. “I've been reflecting.” +</P> +<P>He looked at his watch: it was twelve o'clock. +</P> +<P>“Which, however,” he added, “did not keep me from going to sleep.” +</P> +<P>All the doubts that besieged him at the moment when he had been +overcome by sleep now came back to his mind with painful vividness. +</P> +<P>“And not only have I been sleeping,” he went on, “but I have been +dreaming too.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Lucienne fixed upon him her great black eyes. +</P> +<P>“Can you tell me your dream?” she asked. +</P> +<P>He hesitated. Had he had but one minute to reflect, perhaps he +would not have spoken; but he was taken unawares. +</P> +<P>“I dreamed,” he replied, “that we were friends in the noblest and +purest acceptance of that word. Intelligence, heart, will, all that +I am, and all that I can,—I laid every thing at your feet. You +accepted the most entire devotion, the most respectful and the most +tender that man is capable of. Yes, we were friends indeed; and +upon a glimpse of love, never expressed, I planned a whole future +of love.” He stopped. +</P> +<P>“Well?” she asked. +</P> +<P>“Well, when my hopes seemed on the point of being realized, it +happened that the mystery of your birth was suddenly revealed to +you. You found a noble, powerful, and wealthy family. You resumed +the illustrious name of which you had been robbed; your enemies were +crushed; and your rights were restored to you. It was no longer +Van Klopen's hired carriage that stopped in front of the Hotel des +Folies, but a carriage bearing a gorgeous coat of arms. That +carriage was yours; and it came to take you to your own residence +in the Faubourg St. Germain, or to your ancestral manor.” +</P> +<P>“And yourself?” inquired the girl. +</P> +<P>Maxence repressed one of those nervous spasms which frequently break +out in tears, and, with a gloomy look, +</P> +<P>“I,” he answered, “standing on the edge of the pavement, I waited +for a word or a look from you. You had forgotten my very existence. +Your coachman whipped his horses; they started at a gallop; and soon +I lost sight of you. And then a voice, the inexorable voice of fate, +cried to me, ‘Never more shalt thou see her!’” +</P> +<P>With a superb gesture Mlle. Lucienne drew herself up. +</P> +<P>“It is not with your heart, I trust, that you judge +me, M. Maxence Favoral,” she uttered. +</P> +<P>He trembled lest he had offended her. +</P> +<P>“I beseech you,” he began. +</P> +<P>But she went on in a voice vibrating with emotion, +</P> +<P>“I am not of those who basely deny their past. Your dream will +never be realized. Those things are only seen on the stage. If +it did realize itself, however, if the carriage with the +coat-of-arms did come to the door, the companion of the evil days, +the friend who offered me his month's salary to pay my debt, would +have a seat by my side.” +</P> +<P>That was more happiness than Maxence would have dared to hope for. +He tried, in order to express his gratitude, to find some of those +words which always seem to be lacking at the most critical moments. +But he was suffocating; and the tears, accumulated by so many +successive emotions, were rising to his eyes. +</P> +<P>With a passionate impulse, he seized Mlle. Lucienne's hand, and, +taking it to his lips, he covered it with kisses. Gently but +resolutely she withdrew her hand, and, fixing upon him her beautiful +clear gaze, +</P> +<P>“Friends,” she uttered. +</P> +<P>Her accent alone would have been sufficient to dissipate the +presumptuous illusions of Maxence, had he had any. But he had none. +</P> +<P>“Friends only,” he replied, “until the day when you shall be my wife. +You cannot forbid me to hope. You love no one?” +</P> +<P>“No one.” +</P> +<P>“Well since we are going to tread the path of life, let me think +that we may find love at some turn of the road.” +</P> +<P>She made no answer. And thus was sealed between them a treaty of +friendship, to which they were to remain so strictly faithful, that +the word “love” never once rose to their lips. +</P> +<P>In appearance there was no change in their mode of life. +</P> +<P>Every morning, at seven o'clock, Mlle. Lucienne went to M. Van +Klopen's, and an hour later Maxence started for his office. They +returned home at night, and spent their evenings together by the +fireside. +</P> +<P>But what was easy to foresee now took place. +</P> +<P>Weak and undecided by nature, Maxence began very soon to feel the +influence of the obstinate and energetic character of the girl. +She infused, as it were, in his veins, a warmer and more generous +blood. Gradually she imbued him with her ideas, and from her own +will gave him one. +</P> +<P>He had told her in all sincerity his history, the miseries of his +home, M. Favoral's parsimony and exaggerated severity, his mother's +resigned timidity, and Mlle. Gilberte's resolute nature. +</P> +<P>He had concealed nothing of his past life, of his errors and his +follies, confessing even the worst of his actions; as, for instance, +having abused his mother's and sister's affection to extort from +them all the money they earned. +</P> +<P>He had admitted to her that it was only with great reluctance and +under pressure of necessity, that he worked at all; that he was far +from being rich; that although he took his dinner with his parents, +his salary barely sufficed for his wants; and that he had debts. +</P> +<P>He hoped, however, he added, that it would not be always thus, and +that, sooner or later, he would see the termination of all this +misery and privation; for his father had at least fifty thousand +francs a year and some day he must be rich. +</P> +<P>Far from smiling, Mlle. Lucienne frowned at such a prospect. +</P> +<P>“Ah! your father is a millionaire, is he?” she interrupted. “Well, +I understand now how, at twenty-five, after refusing all the +positions which have been offered to you, you have no position. You +relied on your father, instead of relying on yourself. Judging that +he worked hard enough for two, you bravely folded your arms, waiting +for the fortune which he is amassing, and which you seem to consider +yours.” +</P> +<P>Such morality seemed a little steep to Maxence. “I think,” he began, +“that, if one is the son of a rich man—” +</P> +<P>“One has the right to be useless, I suppose?” added the girl. +</P> +<P>“I do not mean that; but—” +</P> +<P>“There is no but about it. And the proof that your views are wrong, +is that they have brought you where you are, and deprived you of your +own free will. To place one's self at the mercy of another, be that +other your own father, is always silly; and one is always at the +mercy of the man from whom he expects money that he has not earned. +Your father would never have been so harsh, had he not believed that +you could not do without him.” +</P> +<P>He wanted to discuss: she stopped him. +</P> +<P>“Do you wish the proof that you are at M. Favoral's mercy?” she said. +“Very well. You spoke of marrying me.” +</P> +<P>“Ah, if you were willing!” +</P> +<P>“Very well. Go and speak of it to your father.” +</P> +<P>“I suppose—” +</P> +<P>“You don't suppose any thing at all: you are absolutely certain that +he will refuse you his consent.” +</P> +<P>“I could do without it.” +</P> +<P>“I admit that you could. But do you know what he would do then? +He would arrange things in such a way that you would never get a +centime of his fortune.” +</P> +<P>Maxence had never thought of that. +</P> +<P>“Therefore,” the young girl went on gayly, “though there is as yet +no question of marriage, learn to secure your independence; that +is, the means of living. And to that effect let us work.” +</P> +<P>It was from that moment, that Mme. Favoral had noticed in her son +the change that had surprised her so much. +</P> +<P>Under the inspiration, under the impulsion, of Mlle. Lucienne, +Maxence had been suddenly taken with a zeal for work, and a desire +to earn money, of which he could not have been suspected. +</P> +<P>He was no longer late at his office, and had not, at the end of each +month, ten or fifteen francs' fines to pay. +</P> +<P>Every morning, as soon as she was up, Mlle. Lucienne came to knock +at his door. “Come, get up!” she cried to him. +</P> +<P>And quick he jumped out of bed and dressed, so that he might bid +her good-morning before she left. +</P> +<P>In the evening, the last mouthful of his dinner was hardly swallowed, +before he began copying the documents which he procured from M. +Chapelain's successor. +</P> +<P>And often he worked quite late in the night whilst by his side Mlle. +Lucienne applied herself to some work of embroidery. +</P> +<P>The girl was the cashier of the association; and she administered +the common capital with such skillful and such scrupulous economy, +that Maxence soon succeeded in paying off his creditors. +</P> +<P>“Do you know,” she was saying at the end of December, “that, between +us, we have earned over six hundred francs this month?” +</P> +<P>On Sundays only, after a week of which not a minute had been lost, +they indulged in some little recreation. +</P> +<P>If the weather was not too bad, they went out together, dined in +some modest restaurant, and finished the day at the theatre. +</P> +<P>Having thus a common existence, both young, free, and having their +rooms divided only by a narrow passage it was difficult that people +should believe in the innocence of their intercourse. The +proprietors of the Hotel des Folies believed nothing of the kind; +and they were not alone in that opinion. +</P> +<P>Mlle. Lucienne having continued to show herself in the Bois on the +afternoons when the weather was fine, the number of fools who annoyed +her with their attentions had greatly increased. Among the most +obstinate could be numbered M. Costeclar, who was pleased to +declare, upon his word of honor, that he had lost his sleep, and +his taste for business, since the day when, together with M. Saint +Pavin, he had first seen Mlle. Lucienne. +</P> +<P>The efforts of his valet, and the letters which he had written, +having proved useless, M. Costeclar had made up his mind to act in +person; and gallantly he had come to put himself on guard in front +of the Hotel des Folies. +</P> +<P>Great was his surprise, when he saw Mlle. Lucienne coming out arm +in arm with Maxence; and greater still was his spite. +</P> +<P>“That girl is a fool,” he thought, “to prefer to me a fellow who +has not two hundred francs a month to spend. But never mind! He +laughs best who laughs last.” +</P> +<P>And, as he was a man fertile in expedients, he went the next day +to take a walk in the neighborhood of the Mutual Credit; and, having +met M. Favoral by chance, he told him how his son Maxence was ruining +himself for a young lady whose toilets were a scandal, insinuating +delicately that it was his duty, as the head of the family, to put a +stop to such a thing. +</P> +<P>This was precisely the time when Maxence was endeavoring to obtain +a situation in the office of the Mutual Credit. +</P> +<P>It is true that the idea was not original with him, and that he had +even vehemently rejected it, when, for the first time, Mlle. +Lucienne had suggested it. +</P> +<P>“What!” had he exclaimed, “be employed in the same establishment as +my father? Suffer at the office the same intolerable despotism as +at home? I'd rather break stones on the roads.” +</P> +<P>But Mlle. Lucienne was not the girl to give up so easily a project +conceived and carefully matured by herself. +</P> +<P>She returned to the charge with that infinite art of women, who +understand so marvelously well how to turn a position which they +cannot carry in front. She kept the matter so well before him, she +spoke of it so often and so much, on every occasion, and under all +pretexts, that he ended by persuading himself that it was the only +reasonable and practical thing he could do, the only way in which +he had any chance of making his fortune; and so, one evening +overcoming his last hesitations, +</P> +<P>“I am going to speak about it to my father,” he said to Mlle. +Lucienne. +</P> +<P>But whether he had been influenced by M. Costeclar's insinuations, +or for some other reason, M. Favoral had rejected indignantly his +son's request, saying that it was impossible to trust a young man +who was ruining himself for the sake of a miserable creature. +</P> +<P>Maxence had become crimson with rage on hearing the woman spoken of +thus, whom he loved to madness, and who, far from ruining him, was +making him. +</P> +<P>He returned to the Hotel des Folies in an indescribable state of +exasperation. +</P> +<P>“There's the result,” he said to Mlle. Lucienne, “of the step which +you have urged me so strongly to take.” +</P> +<P>She seemed neither surprised nor irritated. +</P> +<P>“Very well,” she replied simply. +</P> +<P>But Maxence could not resign himself so quietly to such a cruel +disappointment; and, not having the slightest suspicion of +Costeclar's doings, +</P> +<P>“And such is,” he added, “the result of all the gossip of these +stupid shop-keepers who run to see you every time you go out in +the carriage.” +</P> +<P>The girl shrugged her shoulders contemptuously. “I expected it,” +she said, “the day when I accepted M. Van Klopen's offers.” +</P> +<P>“Everybody believes that you are my mistress.” +</P> +<P>“What matters it, since it is not so?” +</P> +<P>Maxence did not dare to confess that this was precisely what made +him doubly angry; and he shuddered at the thought of the ridicule +that would certainly be heaped upon him, if the true state of the +case was known. +</P> +<P>“We ought to move,” he suggested. +</P> +<P>“What's the use? Wherever we should go, it would be the same thing. +Besides, I don't want to leave this neighborhood.” +</P> +<P>“And I am too much your friend not to tell you, that your reputation +in it is absolutely lost.” +</P> +<P>“I have no accounts to render to any one.” +</P> +<P>“Except to your friend the commissary of police, however.” +</P> +<P>A pale smile flitted upon her lips. “Ah!” she uttered, “he knows +the truth.” +</P> +<P>“You have seen him again, then?” +</P> +<P>“Several times.” +</P> +<P>“Since we have known each other?” +</P> +<P>“Yes.” +</P> +<P>“And you never told me anything about it?” +</P> +<P>“I did not think it necessary.” +</P> +<P>Maxence insisted no more; but, by the sharp pang that he felt, he +realized how dear Mlle. Lucienne had become to him. +</P> +<P>“She has secrets from me,” thought he,—“from me who would deem it +a crime to have any from her.” +</P> +<P>What secrets? Had she concealed from him that she was pursuing an +object which had become, as it were, that of her whole life. Had +she not told him, that with the assistance of her friend the +peace-officer, who had now become commissary of police of the +district, she hoped to penetrate the mystery of her birth, and to +revenge herself on the villains, who, three times, had attempted to +do away with her? +</P> +<P>She had never mentioned her projects again; but it was evident that +she had not abandoned them, for she would at the same time have +given up her rides to the bois, which were to her an abominable +torment. +</P> +<P>But passion can neither reason nor discuss. +</P> +<P>“She mistrusts me, who would give my life for hers,” repeated Maxence. +</P> +<P>And the idea was so painful to him, that he resolved to clear his +doubts at any cost, preferring the worst misery to the anxiety which +was gnawing at his heart. +</P> +<P>And as soon as he found himself alone with Mlle. Lucienne, arming +himself with all his courage, and looking her straight in the eyes, +</P> +<P>“You never speak to me any more of your enemies?” he said. +</P> +<P>She doubtless understood what was passing within him. +</P> +<P>“It's because I don't hear any thing of them myself,” she answered +gently. +</P> +<P>“Then you have given up your purpose?” +</P> +<P>“Not at all.” +</P> +<P>“What are your hopes, then, and what are your prospects?” +</P> +<P>“Extraordinary as it may seem to you, I must confess that I know +nothing about it. My friend the commissary has his plan, I am +certain; and he is following it with an indefatigable obstinacy. +I am but an instrument in his hands. I never do any thing without +consulting him; and what he advises me to do I do.” +</P> +<P>Maxence started upon his chair. +</P> +<P>“Was it he, then,” he said in a tone of bitter irony, “who suggested +to you the idea of our fraternal association?” +</P> +<P>A frown appeared upon the girl's countenance. She evidently felt +hurt by the tone of this species of interrogatory. +</P> +<P>“At least he did not disapprove of it,” she replied. +</P> +<P>But that answer was just evasive enough to excite Maxence's anxiety. +</P> +<P>“Was it from him too,” he went on, “that came the lovely idea of +having me enter the Mutual Credit?” +</P> +<P>“Yes, it was from him.” +</P> +<P>“For what purpose?” +</P> +<P>“He did not explain.” +</P> +<P>“Why did you not tell me?” +</P> +<P>“Because he requested me not to do so.” +</P> +<P>From being red at the start, Maxence had now become very pale. +</P> +<P>“And so,” he resumed, “it is that man, that police-agent, who is +the real arbiter of my fate; and if to-morrow he commanded you to +break off with me—” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Lucienne drew herself up. +</P> +<P>“Enough!” she interrupted in a brief tone, “enough! There is not +in my whole existence a single act which would give to my bitterest +enemy the right to suspect my loyalty; and now you accuse me of +the basest treason. What have you to reproach me with? Have I +not been faithful to the pact sworn between us. Have I not always +been for you the best of comrades and the most devoted of friends? +I remained silent, because the man in whom I have the fullest +confidence requested me to do so; but he knew, that, if you +questioned me, I would speak. Did you question me? And now what +more do you want? That I should stoop to quiet the suspicions of +your morbid mind? That I do not mean to do.” +</P> +<P>She was not, perhaps, entirely right; but Maxence was certainly +wrong. He acknowledged it, wept, implored her pardon, which was +granted; and this explanation only served to rivet more closely +the fetters that bound him. +</P> +<P>It is true, that, availing himself of the permission that had been +granted him, he kept himself constantly informed of Mlle. Lucienne's +doings. He learnt from her that her friend the commissary had held +a most minute investigation at Louveciennes, and that the footman +who went to the bois with her was now, in reality, a detective. +And at last, one day, +</P> +<P>“My friend the commissary,” she said, “thinks he is on the right +track now.” +</P> + + +<H2>XXIX + +</H2><P>Such was the exact situation of Maxence and Mlle. Lucienne on that +eventful Saturday evening in the month of April, 1872, when the +police came to arrest M. Vincent Favoral, on the charge of +embezzlement and forgery. +</P> +<P>It will be remembered, how, at his mother's request, Maxence had +spent that night in the Rue St. Gilles, and how, the next morning, +unable any longer to resist his eager desire to see Mlle. Lucienne, +he had started for the Hotel des Folies, leaving his sister alone +at home. +</P> +<P>He retired to his room, as she had requested him, and, sinking +upon his old arm-chair in a fit of the deepest distress, +</P> +<P>“She is singing,” he murmured: “Mme. Fortin has not told her any +thing.” +</P> +<P>And at the same moment Mlle. Lucienne had resumed her song, the +words of which reached him like a bitter raillery, +</P> +<BLOCKQUOTE> “Hope! O sweet, deceiving word! +<BR> Mad indeed is he, +<BR> Who does think he can trust thee, +<BR> And take thy coin can afford. +<BR> Over his door every one +<BR> Will hang thee to his sorrow, +<BR> Then saying of days begone, +<BR> ‘Cash to-day, credit to-morrow!’ +<BR> 'Tis very nice to run; +<BR> But to have is better fun!” +</BLOCKQUOTE> +<P>“What will she say,” thought Maxence, “when she learns the horrible +truth?” +</P> +<P>And he felt a cold perspiration starting on his temples when he +remembered Mlle. Lucienne's pride, and that honor has her only faith, +the safety-plank to which she had desperately clung in the midst of +the storms of her life. What if she should leave him, now that the +name he bore was disgraced! +</P> +<P>A rapid and light step on the landing drew him from his gloomy +thoughts. Almost immediately, the door opened, and Mlle. Lucienne +came in. +</P> +<P>She must have dressed in haste; for she was just finishing hooking +her dress, the simplicity of which seemed studied, so marvelously +did it set off the elegance of her figure, the splendors of her +waist, and the rare perfections of her shoulders and of her neck. +</P> +<P>A look of intense dissatisfaction could be read upon her lovely +features; but, as soon as she had seen Maxence, her countenance +changed. +</P> +<P>And, in fact, his look of utter distress, the disorder of his +garments, his livid paleness, and the sinister look of his eyes, +showed plainly enough that a great misfortune had befallen him. +In a voice whose agitation betrayed something more than the anxiety +and the sympathy of a friend, +</P> +<P>“What is the matter? What has happened?” inquired the girl. +</P> +<P>“A terrible misfortune,” he replied. +</P> +<P>He was hesitating: he wished to tell every thing at once, and knew +not how to begin. +</P> +<P>“I have told you,” he said, “that my family was very rich.” +</P> +<P>“Yes.” +</P> +<P>“Well, we have nothing left, absolutely nothing!” She seemed to +breathe more freely, and, in a tone of friendly irony, +</P> +<P>“And it is the loss of your fortune,” she said, “that distresses +you thus?” +</P> +<P>He raised himself painfully to his feet, and, in a low hoarse voice, +</P> +<P>“Honor is lost too,” he uttered. +</P> +<P>“Honor?” +</P> +<P>“Yes. My father has stolen: my father has forged!” +</P> +<P>She had become whiter than her collar. +</P> +<P>“Your father!” she stammered. +</P> +<P>“Yes. For years he has been using the money that was intrusted to +him, until the deficit now amounts to twelve millions.” +</P> +<P>“Great heavens!” +</P> +<P>“And, notwithstanding the enormity of that sum, he was reduced, +during the latter months, to the most miserable expedients,—going +from door to door in the neighborhood, soliciting deposits, until +he actually basely swindled a poor newspaper-vender out of five +hundred francs.” +</P> +<P>“Why, this is madness! And how did you find out?” +</P> +<P>“Last night they came to arrest him. Fortunately we had been +notified; and I helped him to escape through a window of my sister's +room, which opens on the yard of an adjoining house.” +</P> +<P>“And where is he now?” +</P> +<P>“Who knows?” +</P> +<P>“Had he any money?” +</P> +<P>“Everybody thinks that he carries off millions. I do not believe +it. He even refused to take the few thousand francs which M. de +Thaller had brought him to facilitate his flight.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Lucienne shuddered. +</P> +<P>“Did you see M. de Thaller?” she asked. +</P> +<P>“He got to the house a few moments in advance of the commissary of +police; and a terrible scene took place between him and my father.” +</P> +<P>“What was he saying?” +</P> +<P>“That my father had ruined him.” +</P> +<P>“And your father?” +</P> +<P>“He stammered incoherent phrases. He was like a man who has +received a stunning blow. But we have discovered incredible things. +My father, so austere and so parsimonious at home, led a merry life +elsewhere, spending money without stint. It was for a woman that +he robbed.” +</P> +<P>“And—do you know who that woman is?” +</P> +<P>“No. But I can find out from the writer of the article in this +paper, who says that he knows her. See!” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Lucienne took the paper which Maxence was holding out to her: +but she hardly condescended to look at it. +</P> +<P>“But what's your idea now?” +</P> +<P>“I do not believe that my father is innocent; but I believe that +there are people more guilty than he,—skillful and prudent knaves, +who have made use of him as a man of straw,—villains who will +quietly digest their share of the millions (the biggest one, of +course), while he will be sent to prison.” +</P> +<P>A fugitive blush colored Mlle. Lucienne's cheeks. +</P> +<P>“That being the case,” she interrupted, “what do you expect to do?” +</P> +<P>“Avenge my father, if possible, and discover his accomplices, if he +has any.” +</P> +<P>She held out her hand to him. +</P> +<P>“That's right,” she said. “But how will you go about it?” +</P> +<P>“I don't know yet. At any rate, I must first of all run to the +newspaper office, and get that woman's address.” +</P> +<P>But Mlle. Lucienne stopped him. +</P> +<P>“No,” she uttered: “it isn't there that you must go. You must come +with me to see my friend the commissary.” +</P> +<P>Maxence received this suggestion with a gesture of surprise, almost +of terror. +</P> +<P>“Why, how can you think of such a thing?” he exclaimed. “My father +is fleeing from justice; and you want me to take for my confidant a +commissary of police,—the very man whose duty it is to arrest him, +if he can find him!” +</P> +<P>But he interrupted himself for a moment, staring and gaping, as if +the truth had suddenly flashed upon his mind in dazzling evidence. +</P> +<P>“For my father has not gone abroad,” he went on. “It is in Paris +that he is hiding: I am sure of it. You have seen him?” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Lucienne really thought that Maxence was losing his mind. +</P> +<P>“I have seen your father—I?” she said. +</P> +<P>“Yes, last evening. How could I have forgotten it? While you were +waiting for me down stairs, between eleven and half-past eleven a +middle-aged man, thin, wearing a long overcoat, came and asked for +me.” +</P> +<P>“Yes, I remember.” +</P> +<P>“He spoke to you in the yard.” +</P> +<P>“That's a fact.” +</P> +<P>“What did he tell you?” +</P> +<P>She hesitated for a moment, evidently trying to tax her memory; then, +</P> +<P>“Nothing,” she replied, “that he had not already said before the +Fortins; that he wanted to see you on important business, and was +sorry not to find you in. What surprised me, though, is, that he +was speaking as if he knew me, and knew that I was a friend of yours.” +Then, striking her forehead, +</P> +<P>“Perhaps you are right,” she went on. “Perhaps that man was indeed +your father. Wait a minute. Yes, he seemed quite excited, and at +every moment he looked around towards the door. He said it would be +impossible for him to return, but that he would write to you, and +that probably he would require your assistance and your services.” +</P> +<P>“You see,” exclaimed Maxence, almost crazy with subdued excitement, +“it was my father. He is going to write; to return, perhaps; and, +under the circumstances, to apply to a commissary of police would +be sheer folly, almost treason.” +</P> +<P>She shook her head. +</P> +<P>“So much the more reason,” she uttered, “why you should follow my +advice. Have you ever had occasion to repent doing so?” +</P> +<P>“No, but you may be mistaken.” +</P> +<P>“I am not mistaken.” +</P> +<P>She expressed herself in a tone of such absolute certainty, that +Maxence, in the disorder of his mind, was at a loss to know what to +imagine, what to believe. +</P> +<P>“You must have some reason to urge me thus,” he said. +</P> +<P>“I have.” +</P> +<P>“Why not tell it to me then?” +</P> +<P>“Because I should have no proofs to furnish you of my assertions. +Because I should have to go into details which you would not +understand. Because, above all, I am following one of those +inexplicable presentiments which never deceive.” +</P> +<P>It was evident that she was not willing to unveil her whole mind; +and yet Maxence felt himself terribly staggered. +</P> +<P>“Think of my agony,” he said, “if I were to cause my father's arrest.” +</P> +<P>“Would my own be less? Can any misfortune strike you without +reaching me? Let us reason a little. What were you saying a moment +since? That certainly your father is not as guilty as people think; +at any rate, that he is not alone guilty; that he has been but the +instrument of rascals more skillful and more powerful than himself; +and that he has had but a small share of the twelve millions?” +</P> +<P>“Such is my absolute conviction.” +</P> +<P>“And that you would like to deliver up to justice the villains who +have benefitted by your father's crime, and who think themselves sure +of impunity?” +</P> +<P>Tears of anger fell from Maxence's eyes. +</P> +<P>“Do you wish to take away all my courage?” he murmured. +</P> +<P>“No; but I wish to demonstrate to you the necessity of the step +which I advise you to take. The end justifies the means; and we +have not the choice of means. Come, 'tis to an honest man and a +tried friend that I shall take you. Fear nothing. If he remembers +that he is commissary of police, it will be to serve us, not to +injure you. You hesitate? Perhaps at this moment he already +knows more than we do ourselves.” +</P> +<P>Maxence took a sudden resolution. +</P> +<P>“Very well,” he said: “let us go.” +</P> +<P>In less than five minutes they were off; and, as they went out, they +had to disturb Mme. Fortin, who stood at the door, gossiping with +two or three of the neighboring shop-keepers. +</P> +<P>As soon as Maxence and Mlle. Lucienne were out of hearing, +</P> +<P>“You see that young man,” said the honorable proprietress of the +Hotel des Folies to her interlocutors. “Well, he is the son of that +famous cashier who has just run off with twelve millions, after +ruining a thousand families. It don't seem to trouble him, either; +for there he is, going out to spend a pleasant day with his mistress, +and to treat her to a fine dinner with the old man's money.” +</P> +<P>Meantime, Maxence and Lucienne reached the commissary's house. He +was at home; they walked in. And, as soon as they appeared, +</P> +<P>“I expected you,” he said. +</P> +<P>He was a man already past middle age, but active and vigorous still. +With his white cravat and long frock-coat, he looked like a notary. +Benign was the expression of his countenance; but the lustre of his +little gray eyes, and the mobility of his nostrils, showed that it +should not be trusted too far. +</P> +<P>“Yes, I expected you,” he repeated, addressing himself as much to +Maxence as to Mlle. Lucienne. “It is the Mutual Credit matter which +brings you here?” +</P> +<P>Maxence stepped forward, +</P> +<P>“I am Vincent Favoral's son, sir,” he replied. “I have still my +mother and a sister. Our situation is horrible. Mlle. Lucienne +suggested that you might be willing to give me some advice; and here +we are.” +</P> +<P>The commissary rang, and, on the bell being answered, +</P> +<P>“I am at home for no one,” he said. +</P> +<P>And then turning to Maxence, +</P> +<P>“Mlle. Lucienne did well to bring you,” he said; “for it may be, +that, whilst rendering her an important service, I may also render +you one. But I have no time to lose. Sit down, and tell me all +about it.” With the most scrupulous exactness Maxence told the +history of his family, and the events of the past twenty-four hours. +</P> +<P>Not once did the commissary interrupt him; but, when he had done, +</P> +<P>“Tell me your father's interview with M. de Thaller all over again,” +he requested, “and, especially, do not omit any thing that you have +heard or seen, not a word, not a gesture, not a look.” +</P> +<P>And, Maxence having complied, +</P> +<P>“Now,” said the commissary, “repeat every thing your father said at +the moment of going.” +</P> +<P>He did so. The commissary took a few notes, and then, +</P> +<P>“What were,” he inquired, “the relations of your family with the +Thaller family?” +</P> +<P>“There were none.” +</P> +<P>“What! Neither Mme. nor Mlle. de Thaller ever visited you?” +</P> +<P>“Never.” +</P> +<P>“Do you know the Marquis de Tregars?” +</P> +<P>Maxence stared in surprise. +</P> +<P>“Tregars!” he repeated. “It's the first time that I hear that +name.” +</P> +<P>The usual clients of the commissary would have hesitated to recognize +him, so completely had he set aside his professional stiffness, so +much had his freezing reserve given way to the most encouraging +kindness. +</P> +<P>“Now, then,” he resumed, “never mind M. de Tregars: let us talk of +the woman, who, you seem to think, has been the cause of M. Favoral's +ruin.” +</P> +<P>On the table before him lay the paper in which Maxence had read in +the morning the terrible article headed: “Another Financial Disaster.” +</P> +<P>“I know nothing of that woman,” he replied; “but it must be easy to +find out, since the writer of this article pretends to know.” +</P> +<P>The commissary smiled, not having quite as much faith in newspapers +as Maxence seemed to have. +</P> +<P>“Yes, I read that,” he said. +</P> +<P>“We might send to the office of that paper,” suggested Mlle. Lucienne. +</P> +<P>“I have already sent, my child.” +</P> +<P>And, without noticing the surprise of Maxence and of the young girl, +he rang the bell, and asked whether his secretary had returned. The +secretary answered by appearing in person. +</P> +<P>“Well?” inquired the commissary. +</P> +<P>“I have attended to the matter, sir,” he replied. “I saw the +reporter who wrote the article in question; and, after beating about +the bush for some time, he finally confessed that he knew nothing +more than had been published, and that he had obtained his +information from two intimate friends of the cashier, M. Costeclar +and M. Saint Pavin.” +</P> +<P>“You should have gone to see those gentlemen.” +</P> +<P>“I did.” +</P> +<P>“Very well. What then?” +</P> +<P>“Unfortunately, M. Costeclar had just gone out. As to M. Saint +Pavin, I found him at the office of his paper, ‘The Financial Pilot.’ +He is a coarse and vulgar personage, and received me like a +pickpocket. I had even a notion to—” +</P> +<P>“Never mind that! Go on.” +</P> +<P>“He was closeted with another gentleman, a banker, named Jottras, +of the house of Jottras and Brother. They were both in a terrible +rage, swearing like troopers, and saying that the Favoral +defalcation would ruin them; that they had been taken in like fools, +but that they were not going to take things so easy, and they were +preparing a crushing article.” +</P> +<P>But he stopped, winking, and pointing to Maxence and Mlle. Lucienne, +who were listening as attentively as they could. +</P> +<P>“Speak, speak!” said the commissary. “Fear nothing.” +</P> +<P>“Well,” he went on, “M. Saint Pavin and M. Jottras were saying that +M. Favoral was only a poor dupe, but that they would know how to +find the others.” +</P> +<P>“What others?” +</P> +<P>“Ah! they didn't say.” +</P> +<P>The commissary shrugged his shoulders. +</P> +<P>“What!” he exclaimed, “you find yourself in presence of two men +furious to have been duped, who swear and threaten, and you can't +get from them a name that you want? You are not very smart, +my dear!” +</P> +<P>And as the poor secretary, somewhat put out of countenance, looked +down, and said nothing, +</P> +<P>“Did you at least ask them,” he resumed, “who the woman is to whom +the article refers, and whose existence they have revealed to the +reporter?” +</P> +<P>“Of course I did, sir.” +</P> +<P>“And what did they answer?” +</P> +<P>“That they were not spies, and had nothing to say. M. Saint Pavin +added, however, that he had said it without much thought, and only +because he had once seen M. Favoral buying a three thousand francs +bracelet, and also because it seemed impossible to him that a man +should do away with millions without the aid of a woman.” +</P> +<P>The commissary could not conceal his ill humor. +</P> +<P>“Of course!” he grumbled. “Since Solomon said, ‘Look for the woman’ +(for it was King Solomon who first said it), every fool thinks it +smart to repeat with a cunning look that most obvious of truths. +What next?” +</P> +<P>“M. Saint Pavin politely invited me to go to—well, not here.” +</P> +<P>The commissary wrote rapidly a few lines, put them in an envelope, +which he sealed with his private seal, and handed it to his +secretary, saying, +</P> +<P>“That will do. Take this to the prefecture yourself.” And, after +the secretary had gone out, +</P> +<P>“Well, M. Maxence,” he said, “you have heard?” Of course he had. +Only Maxence was thinking much less of what he had just heard than +of the strange interest this commissary had taken in his affairs, +even before he had seen him. +</P> +<P>“I think,” he stammered, “that it is very unfortunate the woman +cannot be found.” +</P> +<P>With a gesture full of confidence, +</P> +<P>“Be easy,” said the commissary: “she shall be found. A woman cannot +swallow millions at that rate, without attracting attention. +Believe me, we shall find her, unless—” +</P> +<P>He paused for a moment, and, speaking slowly and emphatically, +</P> +<P>“Unless,” he added, “she should have behind her a very skillful and +very prudent man. Or else that she should be in a situation where +her extravagance could not have created any scandal.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Lucienne started. She fancied she understood the commissary's +idea, and could catch a glimpse of the truth. +</P> +<P>“Good heavens!” she murmured. +</P> +<P>But Maxence didn't notice any thing, his mind being wholly bent upon +following the commissary's deductions. +</P> +<P>“Or unless,” he said, “my father should have received almost nothing +for his share of the enormous sums subtracted from the Mutual Credit, +in which case he could have given relatively but little to that woman. +M. Saint Pavin himself acknowledges that my father has been +egregiously taken in.” +</P> +<P>“By whom?” +</P> +<P>Maxence hesitated for a moment. +</P> +<P>“I think,” he said at last, “and several friends of my family (among +whom M. Chapelain, an old lawyer) think as I do, that it is very +strange that my father should have drawn millions from the Mutual +Credit without any knowledge of the fact on the part of the manager.” +</P> +<P>“Then, according to you, M. de Thaller must be an accomplice.” +</P> +<P>Maxence made no answer. +</P> +<P>“Be it so,” insisted the commissary. “I admit M. de Thaller's +complicity; but then we must suppose that he had over your father +some powerful means of action.” +</P> +<P>“An employer always has a great deal of influence over his +subordinates.” +</P> +<P>“An influence sufficiently powerful to make them run the risk of +the galleys for his benefit! That is not likely. We must try and +imagine something else.” +</P> +<P>“I am trying; but I don't find any thing.” +</P> +<P>“And yet it is not all. How do you explain your father's silence +when M. de Thaller was heaping upon him the most outrageous insults?” +</P> +<P>“My father was stunned, as it were.” +</P> +<P>“And at the moment of escaping, if he did have any accomplices, how +is it that he did not mention their names to you, to your mother, +or to your sister?” +</P> +<P>“Because, doubtless, he had no proofs of their complicity to offer.” +</P> +<P>“Would you have asked him for any?” +</P> +<P>“O sir!” +</P> +<P>“Therefore such is not evidently the motive of his silence; and it +might better be attributed to some secret hope that he still had +left.” +</P> +<P>The commissary now had all the information, which, voluntarily or +otherwise, Maxence was able to give him. He rose, and in the +kindest tone, +</P> +<P>“You have come,” he said to him, “to ask me for advice. Here it is: +say nothing, and wait. Allow justice and the police to pursue their +work. Whatever may be your suspicions, hide them. I shall do for +you as I would for Lucienne, whom I love as if she were my own +child; for it so happens, that, in helping you, I shall help her.” +</P> +<P>He could not help laughing at the astonishment, which at those words +depicted itself upon Maxence's face; and gayly, +</P> +<P>“You don't understand,” he added. “Well, never mind. It is not +necessary that you should.” +</P> + + +<H2>XXX + +</H2><P>Two o'clock struck as Mlle. Lucienne and Maxence left the office +of the commissary of police, she pensive and agitated, he gloomy and +irritated. They reached the Hotel des Folies without exchanging a +word. Mme. Fortin was again at the door, speechifying in the midst +of a group with indefatigable volubility. Indeed, it was a perfect +godsend for her, the fact of lodging the son of that cashier who +had stolen twelve millions, and had thus suddenly become a celebrity. +Seeing Maxence and Mlle. Lucienne coming, she stepped toward them, +and, with her most obsequious smile, +</P> +<P>“Back already?” she said. +</P> +<P>But they made no answer; and, entering the narrow corridor, they +hurried to their fourth story. As he entered his room, Maxence +threw his hat upon his bed with a gesture of impatience; and, after +walking up and down for a moment, he returned to plant himself in +front of Mlle. Lucienne. +</P> +<P>“Well,” he said, “are you satisfied now?” +</P> +<P>She looked at him with an air of profound commiseration, knowing +his weakness too well to be angry at his injustice. +</P> +<P>“Of what should I be satisfied?” she asked gently. +</P> +<P>“I have done what you wished me to.” +</P> +<P>“You did what reason dictated, my friend.” +</P> +<P>“Very well: we won't quarrel about words. I have seen your friend +the commissary. Am I any better off?” +</P> +<P>She shrugged her shoulders almost imperceptibly. +</P> +<P>“What did you expect of him, then?” she asked. “Did you think that +he could undo what is done? Did you suppose, that, by the sole +power of his will, he would make up the deficit in the Mutual +Credit's cash, and rehabilitate your father?” +</P> +<P>“No, I am not quite mad yet.” +</P> +<P>“Well, then, could he do more than promise you his most ardent and +devoted co-operation?” +</P> +<P>But he did not allow her to proceed. +</P> +<P>“And how do I know,” he exclaimed, “that he is not trifling with me? +If he was sincere, why his reticence and his enigmas? He pretends +that I may rely on him, because to serve me is to serve you. What +does that mean? What connection is there between your situation and +mine, between your enemies and those of my father? And I—I replied +to all his questions like a simpleton. Poor fool! But the man who +drowns catches at straws; and I am drowning, I am sinking, I am +foundering.” +</P> +<P>He sank upon a chair, and, hiding his face in his hands, +</P> +<P>“Ah, how I do suffer!” he groaned. +</P> +<P>Mlle. Lucienne approached him, and in a severe tone, despite her +emotion, +</P> +<P>“Are you, then, such a coward?” she uttered. “What! at the first +misfortune that strikes you,—and this is the first real misfortune +of your life, Maxence,—you despair. An obstacle rises, and, +instead of gathering all your energy to overcome it, you sit down +and weep like a woman. Who, then, is to inspire courage in your +mother and in your sister, if you give up so?” +</P> +<P>At the sound of these words, uttered by that voice which was +all-powerful over his soul, Maxence looked up. +</P> +<P>“I thank you, my friend,” he said. “I thank you for reminding me +of what I owe to my mother and sister. Poor women! They are +wondering, doubtless, what has become of me.” +</P> +<P>“You must return to them,” interrupted the girl. +</P> +<P>He got up resolutely. +</P> +<P>“I will,” he replied. “I should be unworthy of you if I could not +raise my own energy to the level of yours.” +</P> +<P>And, having pressed her hand, he left. But it was not by the usual +route that he reached the Rue St. Gilles. He made a long detour, so +as not to meet any of his acquaintances. +</P> +<P>“Here you are at last,” said the servant as she opened the door. +“Madame was getting very uneasy, I can tell you. She is in the +parlor, with Mlle. Gilberte and M. Chapelain.” +</P> +<P>It was so. After his fruitless attempt to reach M. de Thaller, M. +Chapelain had breakfasted there, and had remained, wishing, he said, +to see Maxence. And so, as soon as the young man appeared, availing +himself of the privileges of his age and his old intimacy, +</P> +<P>“How,” said he, “dare you leave your mother and sister alone in a +house where some brutal creditor may come in at any moment?” +</P> +<P>“I was wrong,” said Maxence, who preferred to plead guilty rather +than attempt an explanation. +</P> +<P>“Don't do it again then,” resumed M. Chapelain. “I was waiting for +you to say that I was unable to see M. de Thaller, and that I do not +care to face once more the impudence of his valets. You will, +therefore, have to take back the fifteen thousand francs he had +brought to your father. Place them in his own hands; and don't +give them up without a receipt.” +</P> +<P>After some further recommendations, he went off, leaving Mme. Favoral +alone at last with her children. She was about to call Maxence to +account for his absence, when Mlle. Gilberte interrupted her. +</P> +<P>“I have to speak to you, mother,” she said with a singular +precipitation, “and to you also, brother.” +</P> +<P>And at once she began telling them of M. Costeclar's strange visit, +his inconceivable audacity, and his offensive declarations. +</P> +<P>Maxence was fairly stamping with rage. +</P> +<P>“And I was not here,” he exclaimed, “to put him out of the house!” +</P> +<P>But another was there; and this was just what Mlle. Gilberte wished +to come to. But the avowal was difficult, painful even; and it was +not without some degree of confusion that she resumed at last, +</P> +<P>“You have suspected for a long time, mother, that I was hiding +something from you. When you questioned me, I lied; not that I had +any thing to blush for, but because I feared for you my father's +anger.” +</P> +<P>Her mother and her brother were gazing at her with a look of blank +amazement. +</P> +<P>“Yes, I had a secret,” she continued. “Boldly, without consulting +any one, trusting the sole inspirations of my heart, I had engaged +my life to a stranger: I had selected the man whose wife I wished +to be.” +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral raised her hands to heaven. +</P> +<P>“But this is sheer madness!” she said. +</P> +<P>“Unfortunately,” went on the girl, “between that man, my affianced +husband before God, and myself, rose a terrible obstacle. He was +poor: he thought my father very rich; and he had asked me a delay +of three years to conquer a fortune which might enable him to aspire +to my hand.” +</P> +<P>She stopped: all the blood in her veins was rushing to her face. +</P> +<P>“This morning,” she said, “at the news of our disaster, he came . . .” +</P> +<P>“Here?” interrupted Maxence. +</P> +<P>“Yes, brother, here. He arrived at the very moment, when, basely +insulted by M. Costeclar, I commanded him to withdraw, and, instead +of going, he was walking towards me with outstretched arms.” +</P> +<P>“He dared to penetrate here!” murmured Mme. Favoral. +</P> +<P>“Yes, mother: he came in just in time to seize M. Costeclar by his +coat-collar, and to throw him at my feet, livid with fear, and +begging for mercy. He came, notwithstanding the terrible calamity +that has befallen us. Notwithstanding ruin, and notwithstanding +shame, he came to offer me his name, and to tell me, that, in the +course of the day, he would send a friend of his family to apprise +you of his intentions.” +</P> +<P>Here she was interrupted by the servant, who, throwing open the +parlor-door, announced, +</P> +<P>“The Count de Villegre.” +</P> +<P>If it had occurred to the mind of Mme. Favoral or Maxence that Mlle. +Gilberte might have been the victim of some base intrigue, the mere +appearance of the man who now walked in must have been enough to +disabuse them. +</P> +<P>He was of a rather formidable aspect, with his military bearing, his +bluff manners, his huge white mustache, and the deep scar across +his forehead. +</P> +<P>But in order to be re-assured, and to feel confident, it was enough +to look at his broad face, at once energetic and debonair, his clear +eye, in which shone the loyalty of his soul, and his thick red lips, +which had never opened to utter an untruth. +</P> +<P>At this moment, however, he was hardly in possession of all his +faculties. +</P> +<P>That valiant man, that old soldier, was timid; and he would have +felt much more at ease under the fire of a battery than in that +humble parlor in the Rue St. Gilles, under the uneasy glance of +Maxence and Mme. Favoral. +</P> +<P>Having bowed, having made a little friendly sign to Mlle. Gilberte, +he had stopped short, two steps from the door, his hat in his hand. +</P> +<P>Eloquence was not his forte. He had prepared himself well in +advance; but though he kept coughing: hum! broum! though he kept +running his finger around his shirt-collar to facilitate his +delivery, the beginning of his speech stuck in his throat. +</P> +<P>Seeing how urgent it was to come to his assistance, +</P> +<P>“I was expecting you, sir,” said Mlle. Gilberte. With this +encouragement, he advanced towards Mme. Favoral, and, bowing low, +</P> +<P>“I see that my presence surprises you, madame,” he began; “and I +must confess that—hum!—it does not surprise me less than it does +you. But extraordinary circumstances require exceptional action. +On any other occasion, I would not fall upon you like a bombshell. +But we had no time to waste in ceremonious formalities. I will, +therefore, ask your leave to introduce myself: I am General Count +de Villegre.” +</P> +<P>Maxence had brought him a chair. +</P> +<P>“I am ready to hear you, sir,” said Mme. Favoral. He sat down, and, +with a further effort, +</P> +<P>“I suppose, madame,” he resumed, “that your daughter has explained +to you our singular situation, which, as I had the honor of telling +you—hum!—is not strictly in accordance with social usage.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte interrupted him. +</P> +<P>“When you came in, general, I was only just beginning to explain +the facts to my mother and brother.” +</P> +<P>The old soldier made a gesture, and a face which showed plainly that +he did not much relish the prospect of a somewhat difficult +explanation—broum! Nevertheless, making up his mind bravely, +</P> +<P>“It is very simple,” he said: “I come in behalf of M. de Tregars.” +</P> +<P>Maxence fairly bounced upon his chair. That was the very name which +he had just heard mentioned by the commissary of police. +</P> +<P>“Tregars!” he repeated in a tone of immense surprise. +</P> +<P>“Yes,” said M. de Villegre. “Do you know him, by chance?” +</P> +<P>“No, sir, no!” +</P> +<P>“Marius de Tregars is the son of the most honest man I ever knew, of +the best friend I ever had,—of the Marquis de Tregars, in a word, +who died of grief a few years ago, after—hum!—some quite +inexplicable—broum!—reverses of fortune. Marius could not be +dearer to me, if he were my own son. He has lost his parents: I +have no relatives; and I have transferred to him all the feelings +of affection which still remained at the bottom of my old heart. +</P> +<P>“And I can say that never was a man more worthy of affection. I +know him. To the most legitimate pride and the most scrupulous +integrity, he unites a keen and supple mind, and wit enough to get +the better of the toughest rascal. He has no fortune for the reason +that—hum!—he gave up all he had to certain pretended creditors +of his father. But whenever he wishes to be rich, he shall be; and +—broum!—he may be so before long. I know his projects, his hopes, +his resources.” +</P> +<P>But, as if feeling that he was treading on dangerous ground, the +Count de Villegre stopped short, and, after taking breath for a +moment, +</P> +<P>“In short,” he went on, “Marius has been unable to see Mlle. +Gilberte, and to appreciate the rare qualities of her heart, +without falling desperately in love with her.” +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral made a gesture of protest, +</P> +<P>“Allow me, sir,” she began. +</P> +<P>But he interrupted her. +</P> +<P>“I understand you, madame,” he resumed. “You wonder how M. de +Tregars can have seen your daughter, have known her, and have +appreciated her, without your seeing or hearing any thing of it. +Nothing is more simple, and, if I may venture to say—hum!—more +natural.” +</P> +<P>And the worthy old soldier began to explain to Mme. Favoral the +meetings in the Place-Royale, his conversations with Marius, +intended really for Mlle. Gilberte, and the part he had consented +to play in this little comedy. But he became embarrassed in his +sentences, he multiplied his hum! and his broum! in the most +alarming manner; and his explanations explained nothing. +</P> +<P>Mlle. Gilberte took pity on him; and, kindly interrupting him, she +herself told her story, and that of Marius. +</P> +<P>She told the pledge they had exchanged, how they had seen each other +twice, and how they constantly heard of each other through the very +innocent and very unconscious Signor Gismondo Pulei. +</P> +<P>Maxence and Mme. Favoral were dumbfounded. They would have +absolutely refused to believe such a story, had it not been told by +Mlle. Gilberte herself. +</P> +<P>“Ah, my dear sister!” thought Maxence, “who could have suspected +such a thing, seeing you always so calm and so meek!” +</P> +<P>“Is it possible,” Mme. Favoral was saying to herself; “that I can +have been so blind and so deaf?” +</P> +<P>As to the Count de Villegre, he would have tried in vain to express +the gratitude he felt towards Mlle. Gilberte for having spared him +these difficult explanations. +</P> +<P>“I could not have done half as well myself, by the eternal!” he +thought, like a man who has no illusions on his own account. +</P> +<P>But, as soon as she had done, addressing himself to Mme. Favoral, +</P> +<P>“Now, madame,” he said, “you know all; and you will understand +that the irreparable disaster that strikes you has removed the +only obstacle which had hitherto stood in the way of Marius.” +</P> +<P>He rose, and in a solemn tone, without any hum or broum, this time, +</P> +<P>“I have the honor, madame,” he uttered, “to solicit the hand of Mlle. +Gilberte, your daughter, for my friend Yves-Marius de Genost, Marquis +de Tregars.” +</P> +<P>A profound silence followed this speech. But this silence the Count +de Villegre doubtless interpreted in his own favor; for, stepping to +the parlor-door, he opened it, and called, “Marius!” +</P> +<P>Marius de Tregars had foreseen all that had just taken place, and +had so informed the Count de Villegre in advance. +</P> +<P>Being given Mme. Favoral's disposition, he knew what could be +expected of her; and he had his own reasons to fear nothing from +Maxence. And, if he mistrusted somewhat the diplomatic talents +of his ambassador, he relied absolutely upon Mlle. Gilberte's energy. +</P> +<P>And so confident was he of the correctness of his calculations, that +he had insisted upon accompanying his old friend, so as to be on +hand at the critical moment. +</P> +<P>When the servant had opened the door to them, he had ordered her to +introduce M. de Villegre, stating that he would himself wait in the +dining-room. This arrangement had not seemed entirely natural to +the girl; but so many strange things had happened in the house for +the past twenty-four hours, that she was prepared for any thing. +</P> +<P>Besides recognizing Marius as the gentleman who had had a violent +altercation in the morning with M. Costeclar, she did as he +requested, and, leaving him alone in the dining-room, went to +attend to her duties. +</P> +<P>He had taken a seat, impassive in appearance, but in reality +agitated by that internal trepidation of which the strongest men +cannot free themselves in the decisive moments of their life. +</P> +<P>To a certain extent, the prospects of his whole life were to be +decided on the other side of that door which had just closed behind +the Count de Villegre. To the success of his love, other interests +were united, which required immediate success. +</P> +<P>And, counting the seconds by the beatings of his heart, +</P> +<P>“How very slow they are!” he thought. +</P> +<P>And so, when the door opened at last, and his old friend called him, +he jumped to his feet, and collecting all his coolness and +self-possession, he walked in. +</P> +<P>Maxence had risen to receive him; but, when he saw him, he stepped +back, his eyes glaring in utter surprise. +</P> +<P>“Ah, great heavens!” he muttered in a smothered voice. +</P> +<P>But M. de Tregars seemed not to notice his stupor. Quite +self-possessed, notwithstanding his emotion, he cast a rapid glance +over the Count de Villegre, Mme. Favoral and Mlle. Gilberte. At +their attitude, and at the expression of their countenance, he +easily guessed the point to which things had come. +</P> +<P>And, advancing towards Mme. Favoral, he bowed with an amount of +respect which was certainly not put on. +</P> +<P>“You have heard the Count de Villegre, madame,” he said in a +slightly altered tone of voice. “I am awaiting my fate.” +</P> +<P>The poor woman had never before in all her life been so fearfully +perplexed. All these events, which succeeded each other so rapidly, +had broken the feeble springs of her soul. She was utterly incapable +of collecting her thoughts, or of taking a determination. +</P> +<P>“At this moment, sir,” she stammered, taken unawares, “it would be +impossible for me to answer you. Grant me a few days for reflection. +We have some old friends whom I ought to consult.” +</P> +<P>But Maxence, who had got over his stupor, interrupted her. +</P> +<P>“Friends, mother!” he exclaimed. “And who are they? People in our +position have no friends. What! when we are perishing, a man of +heart holds out his hand to us, and you ask to reflect? To my +sister, who bears a name henceforth disgraced, the Marquis de +Tregars offers his name, and you think of consulting.” +</P> +<P>The poor woman was shaking her head. +</P> +<P>“I am not the mistress, my son,” she murmured; “and your father—” +</P> +<P>“My father!” interrupted the young man,—“my father! What rights +can he have over us hereafter?” And without further discussion, +without awaiting an answer, he took his sister's hand, and, +placing it in M. de Tregars' hand, +</P> +<P>“Ah! take her, sir,” he uttered. “Never, whatever she may do, will +she acquit the debt of eternal gratitude which we this day contract +towards you.” +</P> +<P>A tremor that shook their frames, a long look which they exchanged, +betrayed alone the feelings of Marius and Mlle. Gilberte. They had +of life a too cruel experience not to mistrust their joy. +</P> +<P>Returning to Mme. Favoral, +</P> +<P>“You do not understand, madame,” he went on, “why I should have +selected for such a step the very moment when an irreparable calamity +befalls you. One word will explain all. Being in a position to +serve you, I wished to acquire the right of doing so.” +</P> +<P>Fixing upon him a look in which the gloomiest despair could be read, +</P> +<P>“Alas!” stammered the poor woman, “what can you do for me, sir? My +life is ended. I have but one wish left,—that of knowing where +my husband is hid. It is not for me to judge him. He has not given +me the happiness which I had, perhaps, the right to expect; but he +is my husband, he is unhappy: my duty is to join him wherever he may +be, and to share his sufferings.” +</P> +<P>She was interrupted by the servant, who was calling her at the +parlor-door, “Madame, madame!” +</P> +<P>“What is the matter?” inquired Maxence. +</P> +<P>“I must speak to madame at once.” +</P> +<P>Making an effort to rise and walk, Mme. Favoral went out. She was +gone but a minute; and, when she returned, her agitation had further +increased. “It is the hand of Providence, perhaps,” she said. The +others were all looking at her anxiously. She took a seat, and, +addressing herself more especially to M. de Tregars, +</P> +<P>“This is what happens,” she said in a feeble voice. “M. Favoral +was in the habit of always changing his coat as soon as he came home. +As usual, he did so last evening. When they came to arrest him, he +forgot to change again, and went off with the coat he had on. The +other remained hanging in the room, where the girl took it just now +to brush it, and put it away; and this portfolio, which my husband +always carries with him, fell from its pocket.” +</P> +<P>It was an old Russia leather portfolio, which had once been red, but +which time and use had turned black. It was full of papers. +</P> +<P>“Perhaps, indeed,” exclaimed Maxence, “we may find some information +there.” +</P> +<P>He opened it, and had already taken out three-fourths of its contents +without finding any thing of any consequence, when suddenly he +uttered an exclamation. He had just opened an anonymous note, +evidently written in a disguised hand, and at one glance had read, +</P> +<P>“I cannot understand your negligence. You should get through that +Van Klopen matter. There is the danger.” +</P> +<P>“What is that note?” inquired M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>Maxence handed it to him. +</P> +<P>“See!” said he, “but you will not understand the immense interest +it has for me.” +</P> +<P>But having read it, +</P> +<P>“You are mistaken,” said Marius. “I understand perfectly; and I'll +prove it to you.” +</P> +<P>The next moment, Maxence took out of the portfolio, and read aloud, +the following bill, dated two days before. +</P> +<P>“Sold to —— two leather trunks with safety locks at 220 francs each; +say, francs 440.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars started. +</P> +<P>“At last,” he said, “here is doubtless one end of the thread which +will guide us to the truth through this labyrinth of iniquities.” +</P> +<P>And, tapping gently on Maxence's shoulders, +</P> +<P>“We must talk,” he said, “and at length. To-morrow, before you go +to M. de Thaller's with his fifteen thousand francs, call and see +me: I shall expect you. We are now engaged upon a common work; and +something tells me, that, before long, we shall know what has become +of the Mutual Credit's millions.” +</P> + + + + +<H2>PART II. + +</H2> +<P><B>FISHING IN TROUBLED WATERS. +</B></P> + +<H2>I + +</H2><P>“When I think,” said Coleridge, “that every morning, in Paris alone, +thirty thousand fellows wake up, and rise with the fixed and settled +idea of appropriating other people's money, it is with renewed wonder +that every night, when I go home, I find my purse still in my pocket.” +</P> +<P>And yet it is not those who simply aim to steal your portemonnaie +who are either the most dishonest or the most formidable. +</P> +<P>To stand at the corner of some dark street, and rush upon the first +man that comes along, demanding, “Your money or your life,” is but a +poor business, devoid of all prestige, and long since given up to +chivalrous natures. +</P> +<P>A man must be something worse than a simpleton to still ply his +trade on the high-roads, exposed to all sorts of annoyances on the +part of the gendarmes, when manufacturing and financial enterprises +offer such a magnificently fertile field to the activity of +imaginative people. +</P> +<P>And, in order to thoroughly understand the mode of proceeding in +this particular field, it is sufficient to open from time to time a +copy of “The Police Gazette,” and to read some trial, like that, for +instance, of one Lefurteux, ex-president of the Company for the +Drainage and Improvement of the Orne Swamps. +</P> +<P>This took place less than a month ago in one of the police-courts. +</P> +<P>The Judge to the Accused—Your profession? +</P> +<P>M. Lefurteux—President of the company. +</P> +<P>Question—Before that what were you doing? +</P> +<P>Answer—I speculated at the bourse. +</P> +<P>Q—You had no means? +</P> +<P>A—I beg your pardon: I was making money. +</P> +<P>Q—And it was under such circumstances that you had the audacity +to organize a company with a capital stock of three million of +francs, divided in shares of five hundred francs? +</P> +<P>A—Having discovered an idea, I did not suppose that I was forbidden +to work it up. +</P> +<P>Q—What do you call an idea? +</P> +<P>A—The idea of draining swamps, and making them productive. +</P> +<P>Q—What swamps? Yours never had any existence, except in your +prospectus. +</P> +<P>A—I expected to buy them as soon as my capital was paid in. +</P> +<P>Q—And in the mean time you promised ten per cent to your +stockholders. +</P> +<P>A—That's the least that draining operations ever pay. +</P> +<P>Q—You have advertised? +</P> +<P>A—Of course. +</P> +<P>Q—To what extent? +</P> +<P>A—To the extent of about sixty thousand francs. +</P> +<P>Q—Where did you get the money? +</P> +<P>A—I commenced with ten thousand francs, which a friend of mine had +lent me; then I used the funds as they came in. +</P> +<P>Q—In other words, you made use of the money of your first dupes to +attract others? +</P> +<P>A—Many people thought it was a good thing. +</P> +<P>Q—Who? Those to whom you sent your prospectus with a plan of your +pretended swamps? +</P> +<P>A—Excuse me. Others too. +</P> +<P>Q—How much money did you ever receive? +</P> +<P>A—About six hundred thousand francs, as the expert has stated. +</P> +<P>Q—And you have spent the whole of the money? +</P> +<P>A—Permit me? I have never applied to my personal wants anything +beyond the salary which was allowed me by the By-laws. +</P> +<P>Q—How is it, then, that, when you were arrested, there were only +twelve hundred and fifty francs found in your safe, and that amount +had been sent you through the post-office that very morning? What +has become of the rest? +</P> +<P>A—The rest has been spent for the good of the company. +</P> +<P>Q—Of course! You had a carriage? +</P> +<P>A—It was allowed to me by Article 27 of the By-laws. +</P> +<P>Q—For the good of the company too, I suppose. +</P> +<P>A—Certainly. I was compelled to make a certain display. The head +of an important company must endeavor to inspire confidence. +</P> +<P>The Judge, with an Ironical Look—Was it also to inspire confidence +that you had a mistress, for whom you spent considerable sums of +money? +</P> +<P>The Accused, in a Tone of Perfect Candor—Yes, sir. +</P> +<P>After a pause of a few moments, the judge resumes, +</P> +<P>Q—Your offices were magnificent. They must have cost you a great +deal to furnish. +</P> +<P>A—On the contrary, sir, almost nothing. The furniture was all +hired. You can examine the upholsterer. +</P> +<P>The upholsterer is sent for, and in answer to the judge's questions, +</P> +<P>“What M. Lefurteux has stated,” he says, “is true. My specialty is +to hire office-fixtures for financial and other companies. I furnish +every thing, from the book-keepers' desks to the furniture for the +president's private room: from the iron safe to the servant's livery. +In twenty-four hours, every thing is ready, and the subscribers can +come. As soon as a company is organized, like the one in question, +the officers call on me, and, according to the magnitude of the +capital required, I furnish a more or less costly establishment. I +have a good deal of experience, and I know just what's wanted. +When M. Lefurteux came to see me, I gauged his operation at a glance. +Three millions of capital, swamps in the Orne, shares of five hundred +francs, small subscribers, anxious and noisy. +</P> +<P>“‘Very well,’ I said to him, ‘it's a six-months' job. Don't go into +useless expenses. Take reps for your private office: that's good +enough.’” +</P> +<P>The Judge, in a tone of Profound Surprise—You told him that? +</P> +<P>The Upholsterer, in the Simple Accent of an Honest Man—Exactly as +I am telling your Honor. He followed my advice; and I sent him red +hot the furniture and fixtures which had been used by the River +Fishery Company, whose president had just been sent to prison for +three years. +</P> +<P>When, after such revelations, renewed from week to week, with +instructive variations, purchasers may still be found for the shares +of the Tiffla Mines, the Bretoneche Lands, and the Forests of +Formanoid, is it to be wondered that the Mutual Credit Company found +numerous subscribers? +</P> +<P>It had been admirably started at that propitious hour of the +December Coup d'Etat, when the first ideas of mutuality were +beginning to penetrate the financial world. +</P> +<P>It had lacked neither capital nor powerful patronage at the start, +and had been at once admitted to the honor of being quoted at the +bourse. +</P> +<P>Beginning business ostensibly as an accommodation bank for +manufacturers and merchants, the Mutual Credit had had, for a number +of years, a well-determined specialty. +</P> +<P>But gradually it had enlarged the circle of its operations, altered +its by-laws, changed its board of directors; and at the end the +original subscribers would have been not a little embarrassed to +tell what was the nature of its business, and from what sources it +drew its profits. +</P> +<P>All they knew was, that it always paid respectable dividends; that +their manager, M. de Thaller, was personally very rich; and that +they were willing to trust him to steer clear of the code. +</P> +<P>There were some, of course, who did not view things in quite so +favorable a light; who suggested that the dividends were suspiciously +large; that M. de Thaller spent too much money on his house, his +wife, his daughter, and his mistress. +</P> +<P>One thing is certain, that the shares of the Mutual Credit Society +were much above par, and were quoted at 580 francs on that Saturday, +when, after the closing of the bourse, the rumor had spread that +the cashier, Vincent Favoral, had run off with twelve millions. +</P> +<P>“What a haul!” thought, not without a feeling of envy, more than +one broker, who, for merely one-twelfth of that amount would have +gayly crossed the frontier. It was almost an event in Paris. +</P> +<P>Although such adventures are frequent enough, and not taken much +notice of, in the present instance, the magnitude of the amount +more than made up for the vulgarity of the act. +</P> +<P>Favoral was generally pronounced a very smart man; and some persons +declared, that to take twelve millions could hardly be called +stealing. +</P> +<P>The first question asked was, +</P> +<P>“Is Thaller in the operation? Was he in collusion with his cashier?” +</P> +<P>“That's the whole question.” +</P> +<P>“If he was, then the Mutual Credit is better off than ever: +otherwise, it is gone under.” +</P> +<P>“Thaller is pretty smart.” +</P> +<P>“That Favoral was perhaps more so still.” +</P> +<P>This uncertainty kept up the price for about half an hour. But soon +the most disastrous news began to spread, brought, no one knew +whence or by whom; and there was an irresistible panic. +</P> +<P>From 425, at which price it had maintained itself for a time, the +Mutual Credit fell suddenly to 300, then 200, and finally to 150 +francs. +</P> +<P>Some friends of M. de Thaller, M. Costeclar, for instance, had +endeavored to keep up the market; but they had soon recognized the +futility of their efforts, and then they had bravely commenced +doing like the rest. +</P> +<P>The next day was Sunday. From the early morning, it was reported, +with the most circumstantial details, that the Baron de Thaller +had been arrested. +</P> +<P>But in the evening this had been contradicted by people who had +gone to the races, and who had met there Mme. de Thaller and her +daughter, more brilliant than ever, very lively, and very talkative. +To the persons who went to speak to them, +</P> +<P>“My husband was unable to come,” said the baroness. “He is busy +with two of his clerks, looking over that poor Favoral's accounts. +It seems that they are in the most inconceivable confusion. Who +would ever have thought such a thing of a man who lived on bread and +nuts? But he operated at the bourse; and he had organized, under a +false name, a sort of bank, in which he has very foolishly sunk +large sums of money.” +</P> +<P>And with a smile, as if all danger had been luckily averted, +</P> +<P>“Fortunately,” she added, “the damage is not as great as has been +reported, and this time, again, we shall get off with a good fright.” +</P> +<P>But the speeches of the baroness were hardly sufficient to quiet +the anxiety of the people who felt in their coat-pockets the +worthless certificates of Mutual Credit stock. +</P> +<P>And the next day, Monday, as early as eight o'clock, they began to +arrive in crowds to demand of M. de Thaller some sort of an +explanation. +</P> +<P>They were there, at least a hundred, huddled together in the +vestibule, on the stairs, and on the first landing, a prey to the +most painful emotion and the most violent excitement; for they had +been refused admittance. +</P> +<P>To all those who insisted upon going in, a tall servant in livery, +standing before the door, replied invariably, “The office is not +open, M. de Thaller has not yet come.” +</P> +<P>Whereupon they uttered such terrible threats and such loud +imprecations, that the frightened concierge had run, and hid himself +at the very bottom of his lodge. +</P> +<P>No one can imagine to what epileptic contortions the loss of money +can drive an assemblage of men, who has not seen a meeting of +shareholders on the morrow of a great disaster, with their clinched +fists, their convulsed faces, their glaring eyes, and foaming lips. +</P> +<P>They felt indignant at what had once been their delight. They laid +the blame of their ruin upon the splendor of the house, the +sumptuousness of the stairs, the candelabras of the vestibule, the +carpets, the chairs, every thing. +</P> +<P>“And it is our money too,” they cried, “that has paid for all that!” +</P> +<P>Standing upon a bench, a little short man was exciting transports +of indignation by describing the magnificence of the Baron de +Thaller's residence, where he had once had some dealings. +</P> +<P>He had counted five carriages in the carriage-house, fifteen horses +in the stables, and Heaven knows how many servants. +</P> +<P>He had never been inside the apartments, but he had visited the +kitchen; and he declared that he had been dazzled by the number +and brightness of the saucepans, ranged in order of size over +the furnace. +</P> +<P>Gathered in a group under the vestibule, the most sensible deplored +their rash confidence. +</P> +<P>“That's the way,” concluded one, “with all these adventurous affairs.” +</P> +<P>“That's a fact. There's nothing, after all, like government bonds.” +</P> +<P>“Or a first mortgage on good property, with subrogation of the wife's +rights.” +</P> +<P>But what exasperated them all was not to be admitted to the presence +of M. de Thaller, and to see that servant mounting guard before +the door. +</P> +<P>“What impudence,” they growled, “to leave us on the stairs!—we who +are the masters, after all.” +</P> +<P>“Who knows where M. de Thaller may be?” +</P> +<P>“He is hiding, of course.” +</P> +<P>“No matter: I will see him,” clamored a big fat man, with a +brick-colored face, “if I shouldn't stir from here for a week.” +</P> +<P>“You'll see nothing at all,” giggled his neighbor. “Do you suppose +they don't have back-stairs and private entrances in this infernal +shop?” +</P> +<P>“Ah! if I believed any thing of the kind,” exclaimed the big man +in a voice trembling with passion. “I'd soon break in some of these +doors: it isn't so hard, after all.” +</P> +<P>Already he was gazing at the servant with an alarming air, when an +old gentleman with a discreet look, stepped up to him, and inquired, +</P> +<P>“Excuse me, sir: how many shares have you?” +</P> +<P>“Three,” answered the man with the brick-colored face. +</P> +<P>The other sighed. +</P> +<P>“I have two hundred and fifty,” he said. “That's why, being at +least as interested as yourself in not losing every thing, I beg of +you to indulge in no violent proceedings.” +</P> +<P>There was no need of further speaking. +</P> +<P>The door which the servant was guarding flew open. A clerk appeared, +and made sign that he wished to speak. +</P> +<P>“Gentlemen,” he began, “M. de Thaller has just come; but he is just +now engaged with the examining judge.” +</P> +<P>Shouts having drowned his voice, he withdrew precipitately. +</P> +<P>“If the law gets its finger in,” murmured the discreet gentleman, +“good-by!” +</P> +<P>“That's a fact,” said another. “But we will have the precious +advantage of hearing that dear baron condemned to one year's +imprisonment, and a fine of fifty francs. That's the regular rate. +He wouldn't get off so cheap, if he had stolen a loaf of bread from +a baker.” +</P> +<P>“Do you believe that story about the judge?” interrupted rudely the +big man. +</P> +<P>They had to believe it, when they saw him appear, followed by a +commissary of police and a porter, carrying on his back a load of +books and papers. They stood aside to let them pass; but there was +no time to make any comments, as another clerk appeared immediately +who said, +</P> +<P>“M. de Thaller is at your command, gentlemen. Please walk in.” +</P> +<P>There was then a terrible jamming and pushing to see who would get +first into the directors' room, which stood wide open. +</P> +<P>M. de Thaller was standing against the mantel-piece, neither paler +nor more excited than usual, but like a man who feels sure of +himself and of his means of action. As soon as silence was restored, +</P> +<P>“First of all, gentlemen,” he began, “I must tell you that the board +of directors is about to meet, and that a general meeting of the +stockholders will be called.” +</P> +<P>Not a murmur. As at the touch of a magician's wand, the dispositions +of the shareholders seemed to have changed. +</P> +<P>“I have nothing new to inform you of,” he went on. “What happened +is a misfortune, but not a disaster. The thing to do was to save +the company; and I had first thought of calling for funds.” +</P> +<P>“Well,” said two or three timid voices, “If it was absolutely +necessary—” +</P> +<P>“But there is no need of it.” +</P> +<P>“Ah, ah!” +</P> +<P>“And I can manage to carry every thing through by adding to our +reserve fund my own personal fortune.” +</P> +<P>This time the hurrahs and the bravos drowned the voice. +</P> +<P>M. de Thaller received them like a man who deserves them, and, +more slowly, +</P> +<P>“Honor commanded it,” he continued. “I confess it, gentlemen, the +wretch who has so basely deceived us had my entire confidence. You +will understand my apparent blindness when you know with what +infernal skill he managed.” +</P> +<P>Loud imprecations burst on all sides against Vincent Favoral. But +the president of the Mutual Credit proceeded, +</P> +<P>“For the present, all I have to ask of you is to keep cool, and +continue to give me your confidence.” +</P> +<P>“Yes, yes!” +</P> +<P>“The panic of night before last was but a stock-gambling manoeuvre, +organized by rival establishments, who were in hopes of taking our +clients away from us. They will be disappointed, gentlemen. We +will triumphantly demonstrate our soundness; and we shall come out +of this trial more powerful than ever.” +</P> +<P>It was all over. M. de Thaller understood his business. They +offered him a vote of thanks. A smile was beaming upon the same +faces that were a moment before contracted with rage. +</P> +<P>One stockholder alone did not seem to share the general enthusiasm: +he was no other than our old friend, M. Chapelain, the ex-lawyer. +</P> +<P>“That fellow, Thaller, is just capable of getting himself out of +the scrape,” he grumbled. “I must tell Maxence.” +</P> + + +<H2>II + +</H2><P>We have every species of courage in France, and to a superior +degree, except that of braving public opinion. Few men would have +dared, like Marius de Tregars, to offer their name to the daughter +of a wretch charged with embezzlement and forgery, and that at the +very moment when the scandal of the crime was at its height. But, +when Marius judged a thing good and just, he did it without +troubling himself in the least about what others would think. And +so his mere presence in the Rue. St. Gilles had brought back hope +to its inmates. Of his designs he had said but a word,—“I have +the means of helping you: I mean, by marrying Gilberte, to acquire +the right of doing so.” +</P> +<P>But that word had been enough. Mme. Favoral and Maxence had +understood that the man who spoke thus was one of those cool and +resolute men whom nothing disconcerts or discourages, and who knows +how to make the best of the most perilous situations. +</P> +<P>And, when he had retired with the Count de Villegre, +</P> +<P>“I don't know what he will do,” said Mlle. Gilberte to her mother +and her brother: “but he will certainly do something; and, if it +is humanly possible to succeed, he will succeed.” +</P> +<P>And how proudly she spoke thus! The assistance of Marius was the +justification of her conduct. She trembled with joy at the thought +that it would, perhaps, be to the man whom she had alone and boldly +selected, that her family would owe their salvation. Shaking his +head, and making allusion to events of which he kept the secret, +</P> +<P>“I really believe,” approved Maxence, “that, to reach the enemies +of our father, M. de Tregars possesses some powerful means; and what +they are we will doubtless soon know, since I have an appointment +with him for to-morrow morning.” +</P> +<P>It came at last, that morrow, which he had awaited with an impatience +that neither his mother nor his sister could suspect. And towards +half-past nine he was ready to go out, when M. Chapelain came in. +Still irritated by the scenes he had just witnessed at the Mutual +Credit office, the old lawyer had a most lugubrious countenance. +</P> +<P>“I bring bad news,” he began. “I have just seen the Baron de +Thaller.” +</P> +<P>He had said so much the day before about having nothing more to do +with it, that Maxence could not repress a gesture of surprise. +</P> +<P>“Oh! it isn't alone that I saw him,” added M. Chapelain, “but +together with at least a hundred stockholders of the Mutual Credit.” +</P> +<P>“They are going to do something, then?” +</P> +<P>“No: they only came near doing something. You should have seen them +this morning! They were furious; they threatened to break every +thing; they wanted M. de Thaller's blood. It was terrible. But M. +de Thaller condescended to receive them; and they became at once as +meek as lambs. It is perfectly simple. What do you suppose +stockholders can do, no matter how exasperated they may be, when +their manager tells them? +</P> +<P>“‘Well, yes, it's a fact you have been robbed, and your money is in +great jeopardy; but if you make any fuss, if you complain thus, all +is sure to be lost.’ Of course, the stockholders keep quiet. It is +a well-known fact that a business which has to be liquidated through +the courts is gone; and swindled stockholders fear the law almost as +much as the swindling manager. A single fact will make the situation +clearer to you. Less than an hour ago, M. de Thaller's stockholders, +offered him money to make up the loss.” +</P> +<P>And, after a moment of silence, +</P> +<P>“But this is not all. Justice has interfered; and M. de Thaller +spent the morning with an examining-magistrate.” +</P> +<P>“Well?” +</P> +<P>“Well, I have enough experience to affirm that you must not rely +any more upon justice than upon the stockholders. Unless there are +proofs so evident that they are not likely to exist, M. de Thaller +will not be disturbed.” +</P> +<P>“Oh!” +</P> +<P>“Why? Because, my dear, in all those big financial operations, +justice, as much as possible, remains blind. Not through corruption +or any guilty connivance, but through considerations of public +interest. If the manager was prosecuted he would be condemned to a +few years' imprisonment; but his stockholders would at the same time +be condemned to lose what they have left; so that the victims would +be more severely punished than the swindler. And so, powerless, +justice does not interfere. And that's what accounts for the +impudence and impunity of all these high-flown rascals who go about +with their heads high, their pockets filled with other people's money, +and half a dozen decorations at their button-hole.” +</P> +<P>“And what then?” asked Maxence. +</P> +<P>“Then it is evident that your father is lost. Whether or not he +did have accomplices, he will be alone sacrificed. A scapegoat is +needed to be slaughtered on the altar of credit. Well, they will +give that much satisfaction to the swindled stockholders. The +twelve millions will be lost; but the shares of the Mutual Credit +will go up, and public morality will be safe.” +</P> +<P>Somewhat moved by the old lawyer's tone, +</P> +<P>“What do you advise me to do, then?” inquired Maxence. +</P> +<P>“The very reverse of what, on the first impulse, I advised you to +do. That's why I have come. I told you yesterday, ‘Make a row, +act, scream. It is impossible that your father be alone guilty; +attack M. de Thaller.’ To-day, after mature deliberation, I say, +‘Keep quiet, hide yourself, let the scandal drop.’” +</P> +<P>A bitter smile contracted Maxence's lips. +</P> +<P>“It is not very brave advice you are giving me there,” he said. +</P> +<P>“It is a friend's advice,—the advice of a man who knows life +better than yourself. Poor young man, you are not aware of the +peril of certain struggles. All knaves are in league and sustain +each other. To attack one is to attack them all. You have no +idea of the occult influences of which a man can dispose who +handles millions, and who, in exchange for a favor, has always a +bonus to offer, or a good operation to propose. If at least I +could see any chance of success! But you have not one. You never +can reach M. de Thaller, henceforth backed by his stockholders. +You will only succeed in making an enemy whose hostility will weigh +upon your whole life.” +</P> +<P>“What does it matter?” +</P> +<P>M. Chapelain shrugged his shoulders. +</P> +<P>“If you were alone,” he went on, “I would say as you do, ‘What does +it matter?’ But you are no longer alone: you have your mother and +sister to take care of. You must think of food before thinking of +vengeance. How much a month do you earn? Two hundred francs! It +is not much for three persons. I would never suggest that you +should solicit M. de Thaller's protection; but it would be well, +perhaps, to let him know that he has nothing to fear from you. Why +shouldn't you do so when you take his fifteen thousand francs back +to him? If, as every thing indicates, he has been your father's +accomplice, he will certainly be touched by the distress of your +family, and, if he has any heart left, he will manage to make you +find, without appearing to have any thing to do with it, a situation +better suited to your wants. I know that such a step must be very +painful; but I repeat it, my dear child, you can no longer think of +yourself alone; and what one would not do for himself, one does for +a mother and a sister.” +</P> +<P>Maxence said nothing. Not that he was in any way affected by the +worthy old lawyer's speech; but he was asking himself whether or +not he should confide to him the events which in the past twenty-four +hours had so suddenly modified the situation. He did not feel +authorized to do so. +</P> +<P>Marius de Tregars had not bound him to secrecy; but an indiscretion +might have fatal consequences. And, after a moment of thought, +</P> +<P>“I am obliged to you, sir,” he replied evasively, “for the interest +you have manifested in our welfare; and we shall always greatly +prize your advice. But for the present you must allow me to leave +you with my mother and sister. I have an appointment with—a +friend.” +</P> +<P>And, without waiting for an answer, he slipped M. de Thaller's +fifteen thousand francs in his pocket, and hurried out. It was not +to M. de Tregars that he went first, however, but to the Hotel des +Folies. +</P> +<P>“Mlle. Lucienne has just come home with a big bundle,” said Mme. +Fortin to Maxence, with her pleasantest smile, as soon as she had +seen him emerge from the shades of the corridor. +</P> +<P>For the past twenty-four hours, the worthy hostess had been watching +for her guest, in the hopes of obtaining some information which she +might communicate to the neighbors. Without even condescending to +answer, a piece of rudeness at which she felt much hurt, he crossed +the narrow court of the hotel at a bound, and started up stairs. +</P> +<P>Mlle. Lucienne's room was open. He walked in, and, still out of +breath from his rapid ascension, +</P> +<P>“I am glad to find you in,” he exclaimed. The young girl was busy, +arranging upon her bed a dress of very light colored silk, trimmed +with ruches and lace, an overdress to match, and a bonnet of +wonderful shape, loaded with the most brilliant feathers and flowers. +</P> +<P>“You see what brings me here,” she replied. “I came home to dress. +At two o'clock the carriage is coming to take me to the bois, where +I am to exhibit this costume, certainly the most ridiculous that Van +Klopen has yet made me wear.” +</P> +<P>A smile flitted upon Maxence's lips. +</P> +<P>“Who knows,” said he, “if this is not the last time you will have +to perform this odious task? Ah, my friend! what events have taken +place since I last saw you!” +</P> +<P>“Fortunate ones?” +</P> +<P>“You will judge for yourself.” +</P> +<P>He closed the door carefully, and, returning to Mlle. Lucienne, +</P> +<P>“Do you know the Marquis de Tregars?” he asked. +</P> +<P>“No more than you do. It was yesterday, at the commissary of police, +that I first heard his name.” +</P> +<P>“Well, before a month, M. de Tregars will be Mlle. Gilberte Favoral's +husband.” +</P> +<P>“Is it possible?” exclaimed Mlle. Lucienne with a look of extreme +surprise. +</P> +<P>But, instead of answering, +</P> +<P>“You told me,” resumed Maxence, “that once, in a day of supreme +distress, you had applied to Mme. de Thaller for assistance, whereas +you were actually entitled to an indemnity for having been run over +and seriously hurt by her carriage.” +</P> +<P>“That is true.” +</P> +<P>“Whilst you were in the vestibule, waiting for an answer to your +letter, which a servant had taken up stairs, M. de Thaller came in; +and, when he saw you, he could not repress a gesture of surprise, +almost of terror.” +</P> +<P>“That is true too.” +</P> +<P>“This behavior of M. de Thaller always remained an enigma to you.” +</P> +<P>“An inexplicable one.” +</P> +<P>“Well, I think that I can explain it to you now.” +</P> +<P>“You?” +</P> +<P>Lowering his voice; for he knew that at the Hotel des Folies there +was always to fear some indiscreet ear. +</P> +<P>“Yes, I,” he answered; “and for the reason that yesterday, when M. +de Tregars appeared in my mother's parlor, I could not suppress an +exclamation of surprise, for the reason, Lucienne, that, between +Marius de Tregars and yourself, there is a resemblance with which it +is impossible not to be struck.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Lucienne had become very pale. +</P> +<P>“What do you suppose, then?” she asked. +</P> +<P>“I believe, my friend, that we are very near penetrating at once the +mystery of your birth and the secret of the hatred that has pursued +you since the day when you first set your foot in M. de Thaller's +house.” +</P> +<P>Admirably self-possessed as Mlle. Lucienne usually was, the +quivering of her lips betrayed at this moment the intensity of her +emotion. +</P> +<P>After more than a minute of profound meditation, +</P> +<P>“The commissary of police,” she said, “has never told me his hopes, +except in vague terms. He has told me enough, however, to make me +think that he has already had suspicions similar to yours.” +</P> +<P>“Of course! Would he otherwise have questioned me on the subject +of M. de Tregars?” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Lucienne shook her head. +</P> +<P>“And yet,” she said, “even after your explanation, it is in vain +that I seek why and how I can so far disturb M. de Thaller's security +that he wishes to do away with me.” +</P> +<P>Maxence made a gesture of superb indifference. “I confess,” he +said, “that I don't see it either. But what matters it? Without +being able to explain why, I feel that the Baron de Thaller is the +common enemy, yours, mine, my father's, and M. de Tregars'. And +something tells me, that, with M. de Tregars' help, we shall triumph. +You would share my confidence, Lucienne, if you knew him. There is +a man! and my sister has made no vulgar choice. If he has told my +mother that he has the means of serving her, it is because he +certainly has.” +</P> +<P>He stopped, and, after a moment of silence, “Perhaps,” he went on, +“the commissary of police might readily understand what I only dimly +suspect; but, until further orders, we are forbidden to have recourse +to him. It is not my own secret that I have just told you; and, if +I have confided it to you, it is because I feel that it is a great +piece of good fortune for us; and there is no joy for me, that you +do not share.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Lucienne wanted to ask many more particulars. But, looking at +his watch, +</P> +<P>“Half-past ten!” he exclaimed, “and M. de Tregars waiting for me.” +</P> +<P>And he started off, repeating once more to the young girl, +</P> +<P>“I will see you to-night: until then, good hope and good courage.” +</P> +<P>In the court, two ill-looking men were talking with the Fortins. +But it happened often to the Fortins to talk with ill-looking men: +so he took no notice of them, ran out to the Boulevard, and jumping +into a cab, +</P> +<P>“Rue Lafitte 70,” he cried to the driver, “I pay the trip,—three +francs.” +</P> +<P>When Marius de Tregars had finally determined to compel the bold +rascals who had swindled his father to disgorge, he had taken in +the Rue Lafitte a small, plainly-furnished apartment on the entresol, +a fit dwelling for the man of action, the tent in which he takes +shelter on the eve of battle; and he had to wait upon him an old +family servant, whom he had found out of place, and who had for him +that unquestioning and obstinate devotion peculiar to Breton servants. +</P> +<P>It was this excellent man who came at the first stroke of the bell +to open the door. And, as soon as Maxence had told him his name, +</P> +<P>“Ah!” he exclaimed, “my master has been expecting you with a +terrible impatience.” +</P> +<P>It was so true, that M. de Tregars himself appeared at the same +moment, and, leading Maxence into the little room which he used +as a study, +</P> +<P>“Do you know,” he said whilst shaking him cordially by the hand, +“that you are almost an hour behind time?” +</P> +<P>Maxence had, among others the detestable fault, sure indication of +a weak nature, of being never willing to be in the wrong, and of +having always an excuse ready. On this occasion, the excuse was +too tempting to allow it to escape; and quick he began telling how +he had been detained by M. Chapelain, and how he had heard from the +old lawyer what had taken place at the Mutual Credit office. +</P> +<P>“I know the scene already,” said M. de Tregars. And, fixing upon +Maxence a look of friendly raillery, +</P> +<P>“Only,” he added, “I attributed your want of punctuality to another +reason, a very pretty one this time, a brunette.” +</P> +<P>A purple cloud spread over Maxence's cheeks. +</P> +<P>“What!” he stammered, “you know?” +</P> +<P>“I thought you must have been in haste to go and tell a person of +your acquaintance why, when you saw me yesterday, you uttered an +exclamation of surprise.” +</P> +<P>This time Maxence lost all countenance. +</P> +<P>“What,” he said, “you know too?” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars smiled. +</P> +<P>“I know a great many things, my dear M. Maxence,” he replied; “and +yet, as I do not wish to be suspected of witchcraft, I will tell +you where all my science comes from. At the time when your house +was closed to me, after seeking for a long time some means of +hearing from your sister, I discovered at last that she had for +her music-teacher an old Italian, the Signor Gismondo Pulei. I +applied to him for lessons, and became his pupil. But, in the +beginning, he kept looking at me with singular persistence. I +inquired the reason; and he told me that he had once had for a +neighbor, at the Batignolles, a young working-girl, who resembled +me prodigiously. I paid no attention to this circumstance, and +had, in fact, completely forgotten it; when, quite lately, Gismondo +told me that he had just seen his former neighbor again, and, what's +more, arm in arm with you, and that you both entered together the +Hotel des Folies. As he insisted again upon that famous resemblance, +I determined to see for myself. I watched, and I stated, <I>de visa</I>, +that my old Italian was not quite wrong, and that I had, perhaps, +just found the weapon I was looking for.” +</P> +<P>His eyes staring, and his mouth gaping, Maxence looked like a man +fallen from the clouds. +</P> +<P>“Ah, you did watch!” he said. +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars snapped his fingers with a gesture of indifference. +</P> +<P>“It is certain,” he replied, “that, for a month past, I have been +doing a singular business. But it is not by remaining on my chair, +preaching against the corruption of the age, that I can attain my +object. The end justifies the means. Honest men are very silly, +I think, to allow the rascals to get the better of them under the +sentimental pretext that they cannot condescend to make use of their +weapons.” +</P> +<P>But an honorable scruple was tormenting Maxence. +</P> +<P>“And you think yourself well-informed, sir?” he inquired. “You +know Lucienne?” +</P> +<P>“Enough to know that she is not what she seems to be, and what +almost any other would have been in her place; enough to be certain, +that, if she shows herself two or three times a week riding around +the lake, it is not for her pleasure; enough, also, to be persuaded, +that, despite appearances, she is not your mistress, and that, far +from having disturbed your life, and compromised your prospects, +she set you back into the right road, at the moment, perhaps, when +you were about to branch off into the wrong path.” +</P> +<P>Marius de Tregars was assuming fantastic proportions in the mind of +Maxence. +</P> +<P>“How did you manage,” he stammered, “thus to find out the truth?” +</P> +<P>“With time and money, every thing is possible.” +</P> +<P>“But you must have had grave reasons to take so much trouble about +Lucienne.” +</P> +<P>“Very grave ones, indeed.” +</P> +<P>“You know that she was basely forsaken when quite a child?” +</P> +<P>“Perfectly.” +</P> +<P>“And that she was brought up through charity?” +</P> +<P>“By some poor gardeners at Louveciennes: yes, I know all that.” +</P> +<P>Maxence was trembling with joy. It seemed to him that his most +dazzling hopes were about to be realized. Seizing the hands of +Marius de Tregars, +</P> +<P>“Ah, you know Lucienne's family!” he exclaimed. But M. de Tregars +shook his head. +</P> +<P>“I have suspicions,” he answered; “but, up to this time, I have +suspicions only, I assure you.” +</P> +<P>“But that family does exist; since they have already, at three +different times, attempted to get rid of the poor girl.” +</P> +<P>“I think as you do; but we must have proofs: and we shall find some. +You may rest assured of that.” +</P> +<P>Here he was interrupted by the noise of the opening door. +</P> +<P>The old servant came in, and advancing to the centre of the room +with a mysterious look, +</P> +<P>“Madame la Baronne de Thaller,” he said in a low voice. +</P> +<P>Marius de Tregars started violently. +</P> +<P>“Where?” he asked. +</P> +<P>“She is down stairs in her carriage,” replied the servant. “Her +footman is here, asking whether monsieur is at home, and whether +she can come up.” +</P> +<P>“Can she possibly have heard any thing?” murmured M. de Tregars +with a deep frown. And, after a moment of reflection, +</P> +<P>“So much the more reason to see her,” he added quickly. “Let her +come. Request her to do me the honor of coming up stairs.” +</P> +<P>This last incident completely upset all Maxence's ideas. He no +longer knew what to imagine. +</P> +<P>“Quick,” said M. de Tregars to him: “quick, disappear; and, whatever +you may hear, not a word!” +</P> +<P>And he pushed him into his bedroom, which was divided from the study +by a mere tapestry curtain. It was time; for already in the next +room could be heard a great rustling of silk and starched petticoats. +Mme. de Thaller appeared. +</P> +<P>She was still the same coarsely beautiful woman, who, sixteen years +before, had sat at Mme. Favoral's table. Time had passed without +scarcely touching her with the tip of his wing. Her flesh had +retained its dazzling whiteness; her hair, of a bluish black, its +marvelous opulence; her lips, their carmine hue; her eyes, their +lustre. Her figure only had become heavier, her features less +delicate; and her neck and throat had lost their undulations, and +the purity of their outlines. +</P> +<P>But neither the years, nor the millions, nor the intimacy of the +most fashionable women, had been able to give her those qualities +which cannot be acquired,—grace, distinction, and taste. +</P> +<P>If there was a woman accustomed to dress, it was she: a splendid +dry-goods store could have been set up with the silks and the +velvets, the satins and cashmeres, the muslins, the laces, and all +the known tissues, that had passed over her shoulders. +</P> +<P>Her elegance was quoted and copied. And yet there was about her +always and under all circumstances, an indescribable flavor of the +<I>parvenue</I>. Her gestures had remained trivial; her voice, common and +vulgar. +</P> +<P>Throwing herself into an arm-chair, and bursting into a loud laugh, +</P> +<P>“Confess, my dear marquis,” she said, “that you are terribly +astonished to see me thus drop upon you, without warning, at eleven +o'clock in the morning.” +</P> +<P>“I feel, above all, terribly flattered,” replied M. de Tregars, +smiling. +</P> +<P>With a rapid glance she was surveying the little study, the modest +furniture, the papers piled on the desk, as if she had hoped that +the dwelling would reveal to her something of the master's ideas +and projects. +</P> +<P>“I was just coming from Van Klopen's,” she resumed; “and passing +before your house, I took a fancy to come in and stir you up; and +here I am.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars was too much a man of the world, and of the best world, +to allow his features to betray the secret of his impressions; and +yet, to any one who had known him well, a certain contraction of the +eyelids would have revealed a serious annoyance and an intense +anxiety. +</P> +<P>“How is the baron?” he inquired. +</P> +<P>“As sound as an oak,” answered Mme. de Thaller, “notwithstanding all +the cares and the troubles, which you can well imagine. By the way, +you know what has happened to us?” +</P> +<P>“I read in the papers that the cashier of the Mutual Credit had +disappeared.” +</P> +<P>“And it is but too true. That wretch Favoral has gone off with an +enormous amount of money.” +</P> +<P>“Twelve millions, I heard.” +</P> +<P>“Something like it. A man who had the reputation of a saint too; a +puritan. Trust people's faces after that! I never liked him, I +confess. But M. de Thaller had a perfect fancy for him; and, when +he had spoken of his Favoral, there was nothing more to say. Any +way, he has cleared out, leaving his family without means. A very +interesting family, it seems, too,—a wife who is goodness itself, +and a charming daughter: at least, so says Costeclar, who is very +much in love with her.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars' countenance remained perfectly indifferent, like +that of a man who is hearing about persons and things in which he +does not take the slightest interest. +</P> +<P>Mme. de Thaller noticed this. +</P> +<P>“But it isn't to tell you all this,” she went on, “that I came up. +It is an interested motive brought me. We have, some of my friends +and myself, organized a lottery—a work of charity, my dear marquis, +and quite patriotic—for the benefit of the Alsatians, I have lots of +tickets to dispose of; and I've thought of you to help me out.” +</P> +<P>More smiling than ever, +</P> +<P>“I am at your orders, madame,” answered Marius, “but, in mercy, +spare me.” +</P> +<P>She took out some tickets from a small shell pocket-book. +</P> +<P>“Twenty, at ten francs,” she said. “It isn't too much, is it?” +</P> +<P>“It is a great deal for my modest resources.” +</P> +<P>She pocketed the ten napoleons which he handed her, and, in a tone +of ironical compassion, +</P> +<P>“Are you so very poor, then?” she asked. +</P> +<P>“Why, I am neither banker nor broker, you know.” +</P> +<P>She had risen, and was smoothing the folds of her dress. +</P> +<P>“Well, my dear marquis,” she resumed, “it is certainly not me who +will pity you. When a man of your age, and with your name, remains +poor, it is his own fault. Are there no rich heiresses?” +</P> +<P>“I confess that I haven't tried to find one yet.” She looked at +him straight in the eyes, and then suddenly bursting out laughing, +</P> +<P>“Look around you,” she said, “and I am sure you'll not be long +discovering a beautiful young girl, very blonde, who would be +delighted to become Marquise de Tregars, and who would bring in +her apron a dowry of twelve or fifteen hundred thousand francs in +good securities,—securities which the Favorals can't carry off. +Think well, and then come to see us. You know that M. de Thaller +is very fond of you; and, after all the trouble we have been having, +you owe us a visit.” +</P> +<P>Whereupon she went out, M. de Tregars going down to escort her to +her carriage. But as he came up, +</P> +<P>“Attention!” he cried to Maxence; “for it's very evident that the +Thallers have wind of something.” +</P> + + +<H2>III + +</H2><P>It was a revelation, that visit of Mme. de Thaller's; and there was +no need of very much perspicacity to guess her anxiety beneath her +bursts of laughter, and to understand that it was a bargain she had +come to propose. It was evident, therefore, that Marius de Tregars +held within his hands the principal threads of that complicated +intrigue which had just culminated in that robbery of twelve +millions. But would he be able to make use of them? What were his +designs, and his means of action? That is what Maxence could not in +any way conjecture. +</P> +<P>He had no time to ask questions. +</P> +<P>“Come,” said M. Tregars, whose agitation was manifest,—“come, let +us breakfast: we have not a moment to lose.” +</P> +<P>And, whilst his servant was bringing in his modest meal, +</P> +<P>“I am expecting M. d'Escajoul,” he said. “Show him in as soon as +he comes.” +</P> +<P>Retired as he had lived from the financial world, Maxence had yet +heard the name of Octave d'Escajoul. +</P> +<P>Who has not seen him, happy and smiling, his eye bright, and his lip +ruddy, notwithstanding his fifty years, walking on the sunny side +of the Boulevard, with his royal blue jacket and his eternal white +vest? He is passionately fond of everything that tends to make life +pleasant and easy; dines at Bignon's, or the Café Anglais; plays +baccarat at the club with extraordinary luck; has the most comfortable +apartment and the most elegant coupe in all Paris. With all this, +he is pleased to declare that he is the happiest of men, and is +certainly one of the most popular; for he cannot walk three blocks +on the Boulevard without lifting his hat at least fifty times, and +shaking hands twice as often. +</P> +<P>And when any one asks, “What does he do?” the invariable answer is, +“Why he operates.” +</P> +<P>To explain what sort of operations, would not be, perhaps, very +easy. In the world of rogues, there are some rogues more formidable +and more skillful than the rest, who always manage to escape the hand +of the law. They are not such fools as to operate in person,—not +they! They content themselves with watching their friends and +comrades. If a good haul is made, at once they appear and claim +their share. And, as they always threaten to inform, there is no +help for it but to let them pocket the clearest of the profit. +</P> +<P>Well, in a more elevated sphere, in the world of speculation, it is +precisely that lucrative and honorable industry which M. d'Escajoul +carries on. Thoroughly master of his ground, possessing a superior +scent and an imperturbable patience, always awake, and continually +on the watch, he never operates unless he is sure to win. +</P> +<P>And the day when the manager of some company has violated his +charter or stretched the law a little too far, he may be sure to +see M. d'Escajoul appear, and ask for some little—advantages, +and proffer, in exchange, the most thorough discretion, and even +his kind offices. +</P> +<P>Two or three of his friends have heard him say, +</P> +<P>“Who would dare to blame me? It's very moral, what I am doing.” +</P> +<P>Such is the man who came in, smiling, just as Maxence and Marius de +Tregars had sat down at the table. M. de Tregars rose to receive him. +</P> +<P>“You will breakfast with us?” he said. +</P> +<P>“Thank you,” answered M. d'Escajoul. “I breakfasted precisely at +eleven, as usual. Punctuality is a politeness which a man owes to +his stomach. But I will accept with pleasure a drop of that old +Cognac which you offered me the other evening.” +</P> +<P>He took a seat; and the valet brought him a glass, which he set on +the edge of the table. Then, +</P> +<P>“I have just seen our man,” he said. +</P> +<P>Maxence understood that he was referring to M. de Thaller. +</P> +<P>“Well?” inquired M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>“Impossible to get any thing out of him. I turned him over and +over, every way. Nothing!” +</P> +<P>“Indeed!” +</P> +<P>“It's so; and you know if I understand the business. But what can +you say to a man who answers you all the time, ‘The matter is in +the hands of the law; experts have been named; I have nothing to +fear from the most minute investigations’?” +</P> +<P>By the look which Marius de Tregars kept riveted upon M. d'Escajoul, +it was easy to see that his confidence in him was not without limits. +He felt it, and, with an air of injured innocence, +</P> +<P>“Do you suspect me, by chance,” he said, “to have allowed myself to +be hoodwinked by Thaller?” +</P> +<P>And as M. de Tregars said nothing, which was the most eloquent of +answers, +</P> +<P>“Upon my word,” he insisted, “you are wrong to doubt me. Was it +you who came after me? No. It was I, who, hearing through Marcolet +the history of your fortune, came to tell you, ‘Do you want to know +a way of swamping Thaller?’ And the reasons I had to wish that +Thaller might be swamped: I have them still. He trifled with me, +he ‘sold’ me, and he must suffer for it; for, if it came to be known +that I could be taken in with impunity, it would be all over with my +credit.” +</P> +<P>After a moment of silence, +</P> +<P>“Do you believe, then,” asked M. de Tregars, “that M. de Thaller is +innocent?” +</P> +<P>“Perhaps.” +</P> +<P>“That would be curious.” +</P> +<P>“Or else his measures are so well taken that he has absolutely +nothing to fear. If Favoral takes everything upon himself, what +can they say to the other? If they have acted in collusion, the +thing has been prepared for a long time; and, before commencing +to fish, they must have troubled the water so well, that justice +will be unable to see anything in it.” +</P> +<P>“And you see no one who could help us?” +</P> +<P>“Favoral—” +</P> +<P>To Maxence's great surprise, M. de Tregars shrugged his shoulders. +</P> +<P>“That one is gone,” he said; “and, were he at hand, it is quite +evident that if he was in collusion with M. de Thaller, he would +not speak.” +</P> +<P>“Of course.” +</P> +<P>“That being the case, what can we do?” +</P> +<P>“Wait.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars made a gesture of discouragement. +</P> +<P>“I might as well give up the fight, then,” he said, “and try to +compromise.” +</P> +<P>“Why so? We don't know what may happen. Keep quiet, be patient; +I am here, and I am looking out for squalls.” +</P> +<P>He got up and prepared to leave. +</P> +<P>“You have more experience than I have,” said M. de Tregars; “and, +since that's your opinion——” +</P> +<P>M. d'Escajoul had resumed all his good humor. +</P> +<P>“Very well, then, it's understood,” he said, pressing M. de Tregars' +hand. “I am watching for both of us; and if I see a chance, I come +at once, and you act.” +</P> +<P>But the outer door had hardly closed, when suddenly the countenance +of Marius de Tregars changed. Shaking the hand which M. d'Escajoul +had just touched,—“Pouah!” he said with a look of thorough +disgust,—“pouah!” +</P> +<P>And noticing Maxence's look of utter surprise, +</P> +<P>“Don't you understand,” he said, “that this old rascal has been sent +to me by Thaller to feel my intentions, and mislead me by false +information? I had scented him, fortunately; and, if either one of +us is dupe of the other, I have every reason to believe that it will +not be me.” +</P> +<P>They had finished their breakfast. M. de Tregars called his servant. +</P> +<P>“Have you been for a carriage?” he asked. +</P> +<P>“It is at the door, sir.” +</P> +<P>“Well, then, come along.” +</P> +<P>Maxence had the good sense not to over-estimate himself. Perfectly +convinced that he could accomplish nothing alone, he was firmly +resolved to trust blindly to Marius de Tregars. +</P> +<P>He followed him, therefore; and it was only after the carriage had +started, that he ventured to ask, +</P> +<P>“Where are we going?” +</P> +<P>“Didn't you hear me,” replied M. de Tregars, “order the driver to +take us to the court-house?” +</P> +<P>“I beg your pardon; but what I wish to know is, what we are going +to do there?” +</P> +<P>“You are going, my dear friend, to ask an audience of the judge who +has your father's case in charge, and deposit into his hands the +fifteen thousand francs you have in your pocket.” +</P> +<P>“What! You wish me to—” +</P> +<P>“I think it better to place that money into the hands of justice, +which will appreciate the step, than into those of M. de Thaller, +who would not breathe a word about it. We are in a position where +nothing should be neglected; and that money may prove an indication.” +</P> +<P>But they had arrived. M. de Tregars guided Maxence through the +labyrinth of corridors of the building, until he came to a long +gallery, at the entrance of which an usher was seated reading a +newspaper. +</P> +<P>“M. Barban d'Avranchel?” inquired M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>“He is in his office,” replied the usher. +</P> +<P>“Please ask him if he would receive an important deposition in the +Favoral case.” +</P> +<P>The usher rose somewhat reluctantly, and, while he was gone, +</P> +<P>“You will go in alone,” said M. de Tregars to Maxence. “I shall +not appear; and it is important that my name should not even be +pronounced. But, above all, try and remember even the most +insignificant words of the judge; for, upon what he tells you, I +shall regulate my conduct.” +</P> +<P>The usher returned. +</P> +<P>“M. d'Avranchel will receive you,” he said. And, leading Maxence +to the extremity of the gallery, he opened a small door, and +pushed him in, saying at the same time, +</P> +<P>“That is it, sir: walk in.” +</P> +<P>It was a small room, with a low ceiling, and poorly furnished. The +faded curtains and threadbare carpet showed plainly that more than +one judge had occupied it, and that legions of accused criminals +had passed through it. In front of a table, two men—one old, the +judge; the other young, the clerk—were signing and classifying +papers. These papers related to the Favoral case, and were all +indorsed in large letters: Mutual Credit Company. +</P> +<P>As soon as Maxence appeared, the judge rose, and, after measuring +him with a clear and cold look: +</P> +<P>“Who are you?” he interrogated. +</P> +<P>In a somewhat husky voice, Maxence stated his name and surname. +</P> +<P>“Ah! you are Vincent Favoral's son,” interrupted the judge. “And +it was you who helped him escape through the window? I was going +to send you a summons this very day; but, since you are here, so +much the better. You have something important to communicate, I +have been told.” +</P> +<P>Very few people, even among the most strictly honest, can overcome +a certain unpleasant feeling when, having crossed the threshold of +the palace of justice, they find themselves in presence of a judge. +More than almost any one else, Maxence was likely to be accessible +to that vague and inexplicable feeling; and it was with an effort +that he answered, +</P> +<P>“On Saturday evening, the Baron de Thaller called at our house a +few minutes before the commissary. After loading my father with +reproaches, he invited him to leave the country; and, in order to +facilitate his flight, he handed him these fifteen thousand francs. +My father declined to accept them; and, at the moment of parting, +he recommended to me particularly to return them to M. de Thaller. +I thought it best to return them to you, sir.” +</P> +<P>“Why?” +</P> +<P>“Because I wished the fact known to you of the money having been +offered and refused.” +</P> +<P>M. Barban d'Avranchel was quietly stroking his whiskers, once of a +bright red, but now almost entirely white. +</P> +<P>“Is this an insinuation against the manager of the Mutual Credit?” +he asked. +</P> +<P>Maxence looked straight at him; and, in a tone which affirmed +precisely the reverse, +</P> +<P>“I accuse no one,” he said. +</P> +<P>“I must tell you,” resumed the judge, “that M. de Thaller has +himself informed me of this circumstance. When he called at your +house, he was ignorant, as yet, of the extent of the embezzlements, +and was in hopes of being able to hush up the affair. That's why +he wished his cashier to start for Belgium. This system of +helping criminals to escape the just punishment of their crimes is +to be bitterly deplored; but it is quite the habit of your financial +magnates, who prefer sending some poor devil of an employe to hang +himself abroad than run the risk of compromising their credit by +confessing that they have been robbed.” +</P> +<P>Maxence might have had a great deal to say; but M. de Tregars had +recommended him the most extreme reserve. He remained silent. +</P> +<P>“On the other hand,” resumed the judge, “the refusal to accept the +money so generously offered does not speak in favor of Vincent +Favoral. He was well aware, when he left, that it would require a +great deal of money to reach the frontier, escape pursuit, and hide +himself abroad; and, if he refused the fifteen thousand francs, it +must have been because he was well provided for already.” +</P> +<P>Tears of shame and rage started from Maxence's eyes. “I am certain, +sir,” he exclaimed, “that my father went off without a sou.” +</P> +<P>“What has become of the millions, then?” he asked coldly. +</P> +<P>Maxence hesitated. Why not mention his suspicions? He dared not. +</P> +<P>“My father speculated at the bourse,” he stammered. “And he led a +scandalous conduct, keeping up, away from home, a style of living +which must have absorbed immense sums.” +</P> +<P>“We knew nothing of it, sir; and our first suspicions were aroused +by what the commissary of police told us.” +</P> +<P>The judge insisted no more; and in a tone which indicated that his +question was a mere matter of form, and he attached but little +importance to the answer, +</P> +<P>“You have no news from your father?” he asked. +</P> +<P>“None whatever.” +</P> +<P>“And you have no idea where he has gone?” +</P> +<P>“None in the least.” +</P> +<P>M. d'Avranchel had already resumed his seat at the table, and was +again busy with his papers. +</P> +<P>“You may retire,” he said. “You will be notified if I need you.” +</P> +<P>Maxence felt much discouraged when he joined M. de Tregars at the +entrance of the gallery. +</P> +<P>“The judge is convinced of M. de Thaller's entire innocence,” he +said. +</P> +<P>But as soon as he had narrated, with a fidelity that did honor to +his memory, all that had just occurred, +</P> +<P>“Nothing is lost yet,” declared M. de Tregars. And, taking from +his pocket the bill for two trunks, which had been found in M. +Favoral's portfolio, +</P> +<P>“There,” he said, “we shall know our fate.” +</P> + + +<H2>IV + +</H2><P>M. de Tregars and Maxence were in luck. They had a good driver and +a fair horse; and in twenty minutes they were at the trunk store. +As soon as the cab stopped, +</P> +<P>“Well,” exclaimed M. de Tregars, “I suppose it has to be done.” +</P> +<P>And, with the look of a man who has made up his mind to do something +which is extremely repugnant to him, he jumped out, and, followed +by Maxence, entered the shop. +</P> +<P>It was a modest establishment; and the people who kept it, husband +and wife, seeing two customers coming in, rushed to meet them, with +that welcoming smile which blossoms upon the lips of every Parisian +shopkeeper. +</P> +<P>“What will you have, gentlemen?” +</P> +<P>And, with wonderful volubility, they went on enumerating every +article which they had for sale in their shop,—from the +“indispensable-necessary,” containing seventy-seven pieces of solid +silver, and costing four thousand francs, down to the humblest +carpet-bag at thirty-nine cents. +</P> +<P>But Marius de Tregars interrupted them as soon as he could get an +opportunity, and, showing them their bill, +</P> +<P>“It was here, wasn't it,” he inquired, “that the two trunks were +bought which are charged in this bill?” +</P> +<P>“Yes, sir,” answered simultaneously both husband and wife. +</P> +<P>“When were they delivered?” +</P> +<P>“Our porter went to deliver them, less than two hours after they +were bought.” +</P> +<P>“Where?” +</P> +<P>By this time the shopkeepers were beginning to exchange uneasy looks. +</P> +<P>“Why do you ask?” inquired the woman in a tone which indicated that +she had the settled intention not to answer, unless for good and +valid reason. +</P> +<P>To obtain the simplest information is not always as easy as might +be supposed. The suspicion of the Parisian tradesman is easily +aroused; and, as his head is stuffed with stories of spies and +robbers, as soon as he is questioned he becomes as dumb as an oyster. +</P> +<P>But M. de Tregars had foreseen the difficulty: +</P> +<P>“I beg you to believe, madame,” he went on, “that my questions are +not dictated by an idle curiosity. Here are the facts. A relative +of ours, a man of a certain age, of whom we are very fond, and whose +head is a little weak, left his home some forty-eight hours since. +We are looking for him, and we are in hopes, if we find these trunks, +to find him at the same time.” +</P> +<P>With furtive glances, the husband and wife were tacitly consulting +each other. +</P> +<P>“The fact is,” they said, “we wouldn't like, under any consideration, +to commit an indiscretion which might result to the prejudice of a +customer.” +</P> +<P>“Fear nothing,” said M. de Tregars with a reassuring gesture. “If +we have not had recourse to the police, it's because, you know, it +isn't pleasant to have the police interfere in one's affairs. If +you have any objections to answer me, however, I must, of course, +apply to the commissary.” +</P> +<P>The argument proved decisive. +</P> +<P>“If that's the case,” replied the woman, “I am ready to tell all I +know.” +</P> +<P>“Well, then, madame, what do you know?” +</P> +<P>“These two trunks were bought on Friday afternoon last, by a man of +a certain age, tall, very thin, with a stern countenance, and +wearing a long frock coat.” +</P> +<P>“No more doubt,” murmured Maxence. “It was he.” +</P> +<P>“And now,” the woman went on, “that you have just told me that your +relative was a little weak in the head, I remember that this +gentleman had a strange sort of way about him, and that he kept +walking about the store as if he had fleas on his legs. And awful +particular he was too! Nothing was handsome enough and strong +enough for him; and he was anxious about the safety-locks, as he +had, he said, many objects of value, papers, and securities, to put +away.” +</P> +<P>“And where did he tell you to send the two trunks?” +</P> +<P>“Rue du Cirque, to Mme.—wait a minute, I have the name at the end +of my tongue.” +</P> +<P>“You must have it on your books, too,” remarked M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>The husband was already looking over his blotter. +</P> +<P>“April 26, 1872,” he said. “26, here it is: ‘Two leather trunks, +patent safety-locks: Mme. Zelie Cadelle, 49 Rue du Cirque.’” +</P> +<P>Without too much affectation, M. de Tregars had drawn near to the +shopkeeper, and was looking over his shoulder. +</P> +<P>“What is that,” he asked, “written there, below the address?” +</P> +<P>“That, sir, is the direction left by the customer ‘Mark on each end +of the trunks, in large letters, “Rio de Janeiro.”’” +</P> +<P>Maxence could not suppress an exclamation. “Oh!” +</P> +<P>But the tradesman mistook him; and, seizing this magnificent +opportunity to display his knowledge, +</P> +<P>“Rio de Janeiro is the capital of Brazil,” he said in a tone of +importance. “And your relative evidently intended to go there; and, +if he has not changed his mind, I doubt whether you can overtake +him; for the Brazilian steamer was to have sailed yesterday from +Havre.” +</P> +<P>Whatever may have been his intentions, M. de Tregars remained +perfectly calm. +</P> +<P>“If that's the case,” he said to the shopkeepers, “I think I had +better give up the chase. I am much obliged to you, however, for +your information.” +</P> +<P>But, once out again, +</P> +<P>“Do you really believe,” inquired Maxence, “that my father has +left France?” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars shook his head. +</P> +<P>“I will give you my opinion,” he uttered, “after I have investigated +matters in the Rue du Cirque.” +</P> +<P>They drove there in a few minutes; and, the cab having stopped at +the entrance of the street, they walked on foot in front of No. 49. +It was a small cottage, only one story in height, built between a +sanded court-yard and a garden, whose tall trees showed above the +roof. At the windows could be seen curtains of light-colored silk, +—a sure indication of the presence of a young and pretty woman. +</P> +<P>For a few minutes Marius de Tregars remained in observation; but, +as nothing stirred, +</P> +<P>“We must find out something, somehow,” he exclaimed impatiently. +</P> +<P>And noticing a large grocery store bearing No. 62, he directed his +steps towards it, still accompanied by Maxence. +</P> +<P>It was the hour of the day when customers are rare. Standing in +the centre of the shop, the grocer, a big fat man with an air of +importance, was overseeing his men, who were busy putting things +in order. +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars took him aside, and with an accent of mystery, +</P> +<P>“I am,” he said, “a clerk with M. Drayton, the jeweler in the Rue +de la Paix; and I come to ask you one of those little favors which +tradespeople owe to each other.” +</P> +<P>A frown appeared on the fat man's countenance. He thought, perhaps, +that M. Drayton's clerks were rather too stylish-looking; or else, +perhaps, he felt apprehensive of one of those numerous petty swindles +of which shopkeepers are constantly the victims. +</P> +<P>“What is it?” said he. “Speak!” +</P> +<P>“I am on my way,” spoke M. de Tregars, “to deliver a ring which a +lady purchased of us yesterday. She is not a regular customer, and +has given us no references. If she doesn't pay, shall I leave the +ring? My employer told me, ‘Consult some prominent tradesman of the +neighborhood, and follow his advice.’” +</P> +<P>Prominent tradesman! Delicately tickled vanity was dancing in the +grocer's eyes. +</P> +<P>“What is the name of the lady?” he inquired. +</P> +<P>“Mme. Zelie Cadelle.” +</P> +<P>The grocer burst out laughing. +</P> +<P>“In that case, my boy,” he said, tapping familiarly the shoulder +of the so-called clerk, “whether she pays or not, you can deliver +the article.” +</P> +<P>The familiarity was not, perhaps, very much to the taste of the +Marquis de Tregars. No matter. +</P> +<P>“She is rich, then, that lady?” he said. +</P> +<P>“Personally no. But she is protected by an old fool, who allows +her all her fancies.” +</P> +<P>“Indeed!” +</P> +<P>“It is scandalous; and you cannot form an idea of the amount of +money that is spent in that house. Horses, carriages, servants, +dresses, balls, dinners, card-playing all night, a perpetual +carnival: it must be ruinous!” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars never winced. +</P> +<P>“And the old man who pays?” he asked; “do you know him?” +</P> +<P>“I have seen him pass,—a tall, lean, old fellow, who doesn't look +very rich, either. But excuse me: here is a customer I must wait +upon.” +</P> +<P>Having walked out into the street, +</P> +<P>“We must separate now,” declared M. de Tregars to Maxence. +</P> +<P>“What! You wish to—” +</P> +<P>“Go and wait for me in that Café yonder, at the corner of the street. +I must see that Zelie Cadelle and speak to her.” +</P> +<P>And without suffering an objection on the part of Maxence, he walked +resolutely up to the cottage-gate, and rang vigorously. +</P> +<P>At the sound of the bell, one of those servants stepped out into the +yard, who seem manufactured on purpose, heaven knows where, for the +special service of young ladies who keep house,—a tall rascal with +sallow complexion and straight hair, a cynical eye, and a low, +impudent smile. +</P> +<P>“What do you wish, sir?” he inquired through the grating. +</P> +<P>“That you should open the door, first,” uttered M. de Tregars, with +such a look and such an accent, that the other obeyed at once. +</P> +<P>“And now,” he added, “go and announce me to Mme. Zelie Cadelle.” +</P> +<P>“Madame is out,” replied the valet. +</P> +<P>And noticing that M. de Tregars shrugged his shoulders, +</P> +<P>“Upon my word,” he said, “she has gone to the bois with one of her +friends. If you won't believe me, ask my comrades there.” +</P> +<P>And he pointed out two other servants of the same pattern as himself, +who were silting at a table in the carriage-house, playing cards, +and drinking. +</P> +<P>But M. de Tregars did not mean to be imposed upon. He felt certain +that the man was lying. Instead, therefore, of discussing, +</P> +<P>“I want you to take me to your mistress,” he ordered, in a tone that +admitted of no objection; “or else I'll find my way to her alone.” +</P> +<P>It was evident that he would do just as he said, by force if needs +be. The valet saw this, and, after hesitating a moment longer, +</P> +<P>“Come along, then,” he said, “since you insist so much. We'll talk +to the chambermaid.” +</P> +<P>And, having led M. de Tregars into the vestibule, he called out, +“Mam'selle Amanda!” +</P> +<P>A woman at once made her appearance who was a worthy mate for the +valet. She must have been about forty, and the most alarming +duplicity could be read upon her features, deeply pitted by the +small-pox. She wore a pretentious dress, an apron like a +stage-servant, and a cap profusely decorated with flowers and +ribbons. +</P> +<P>“Here is a gentleman,” said the valet, “who insists upon seeing +madame. You fix it with him.” +</P> +<P>Better than her fellow servant, Mlle. Amanda could judge with whom +she had to deal. A single glance at this obstinate visitor +convinced her that he was not one who can be easily turned off. +</P> +<P>Putting on, therefore, her pleasantest smile, thus displaying at +the same time her decayed teeth, +</P> +<P>“The fact is that monsieur will very much disturb madame,” she +observed. +</P> +<P>“I shall excuse myself.” +</P> +<P>“But I'll be scolded.” +</P> +<P>Instead of answering, M. de Tregars took a couple of +twenty-franc-notes out of his pocket, and slipped them into her +hand. +</P> +<P>“Please follow me to the parlor, then,” she said with a heavy sigh. +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars did so, whilst observing everything around him with +the attentive perspicacity of a deputy sheriff preparing to make +out an inventory. +</P> +<P>Being double, the house was much more spacious than could have +been thought from the street, and arranged with that science of +comfort which is the genius of modern architects. +</P> +<P>The most lavish luxury was displayed on all sides; not that solid, +quiet, and harmonious luxury which is the result of long years of +opulence, but the coarse, loud, and superficial luxury of the +<I>parvenu</I>, who is eager to enjoy quick, and to possess all that he +has craved from others. +</P> +<P>The vestibule was a folly, with its exotic plants climbing along +crystal trellises, and its Sevres and China jardinieres filled with +gigantic azaleas. And along the gilt railing of the stairs marble +and bronze statuary was intermingled with masses of growing flowers. +</P> +<P>“It must take twenty thousand francs a year to keep up this +conservatory alone,” thought M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>Meantime the old chambermaid opened a satinwood door with silver +lock. +</P> +<P>“That's the parlor,” she said. “Take a seat whilst I go and tell +madame.” +</P> +<P>In this parlor everything had been combined to dazzle. Furniture, +carpets, hangings, every thing, was rich, too rich, furiously, +incontestably, obviously rich. The chandelier was a masterpiece, +the clock an original and unique piece of work. The pictures +hanging upon the wall were all signed with the most famous names. +</P> +<P>“To judge of the rest by what I have seen,” thought M. de Tregars, +“there must have been at least four or five hundred thousand francs +spent on this house.” +</P> +<P>And, although he was shocked by a quantity of details which betrayed +the most absolute lack of taste, he could hardly persuade himself +that the cashier of the Mutual Credit could be the master of this +sumptuous dwelling; and he was asking himself whether he had not +followed the wrong scent, when a circumstance came to put an end to +all his doubts. +</P> +<P>Upon the mantlepiece, in a small velvet frame, was Vincent Favoral's +portrait. +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars had been seated for a few minutes, and was collecting +his somewhat scattered thoughts, when a slight grating sound, and +a rustling noise, made him turn around. +</P> +<P>Mme. Zelie Cadelle was coming in. +</P> +<P>She was a woman of some twenty-five or six, rather tall, lithe, and +well made. Her face was pale and worn; and her heavy dark hair was +scattered over her neck and shoulders. She looked at once sarcastic +and good-natured, impudent and naive, with her sparkling eyes, her +turned-up nose, and wide mouth furnished with teeth, sound and white, +like those of a young dog. She had wasted no time upon her dress; +for she wore a plain blue cashmere wrapper, fastened at the waist +with a sort of silk scarf of similar color. +</P> +<P>From the very threshold, +</P> +<P>“Dear me!” she exclaimed, “how very singular!” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars stepped forward. +</P> +<P>“What?” he inquired. +</P> +<P>“Oh, nothing!” she replied,—“nothing at all!” +</P> +<P>And without ceasing to look at him with a wondering eye, but +suddenly changing her tone of voice, +</P> +<P>“And so, sir,” she said, “my servants have been unable to keep you +from forcing yourself into my house!” +</P> +<P>“I hope, madame,” said M. de Tregars with a polite bow, “that you +will excuse my persistence. I come for a matter which can suffer +no delay.” +</P> +<P>She was still looking at him obstinately. “Who are you?” she asked. +</P> +<P>“My name will not afford you any information. I am the Marquis de +Tregars.” +</P> +<P>“Tregars!” she repeated, looking up at the ceiling, as if in search +of an inspiration. “Tregars! Never heard of it!” +</P> +<P>And throwing herself into an arm chair, +</P> +<P>“Well, sir, what do you wish with me, then? Speak!” +</P> +<P>He had taken a seat near her, and kept his eyes riveted upon hers. +</P> +<P>“I have come, madame,” he replied, “to ask you to put me in the way +to see and speak to the man whose photograph is there on the +mantlepiece.” +</P> +<P>He expected to take her by surprise, and that by a shudder, a cry, +a gesture, she might betray her secret. Not at all. +</P> +<P>“Are you, then, one of M. Vincent's friends?” she asked quietly. +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars understood, and this was subsequently confirmed, that +it was under his Christian name of Vincent alone, that the cashier +of the Mutual Credit was known in the Rue du Cirque. +</P> +<P>“Yes, I am a friend of his,” he replied; “and if I could see him, +I could probably render him an important service.” +</P> +<P>“Well, you are too late.” +</P> +<P>“Why?” +</P> +<P>“Because M. Vincent put off more than twenty-four hours since?” +</P> +<P>“Are you sure of that?” +</P> +<P>“As sure as a person can be who went to the railway station +yesterday with him and all his baggage.” +</P> +<P>“You saw him leave?” +</P> +<P>“As I see you.” +</P> +<P>“Where was he going?” +</P> +<P>“To Havre, to take the steamer for Brazil, which was to sail on the +same day; so that, by this time, he must be awfully seasick.” +</P> +<P>“And you really think that it was his intention to go to Brazil?” +</P> +<P>“He said so. It was written on his thirty-six trunks in letters +half a foot high. Besides, he showed me his ticket.” +</P> +<P>“Have you any idea what could have induced him to expatriate himself +thus, at his age?” +</P> +<P>“He told me he had spent all his money, and also some of other +people's; that he was afraid of being arrested; and that he was +going yonder to be quiet, and try to make another fortune.” +</P> +<P>Was Mme. Zelie speaking in good faith? To ask the question would +have been rather naive; but an effort might be made to find out. +Carefully concealing his own impressions, and the importance he +attached to this conversation, +</P> +<P>“I pity you sincerely, madame,” resumed M. de Tregars; “for you must +be sorely grieved by this sudden departure.” +</P> +<P>“Me!” she said in a voice that came from the heart. “I don't care +a straw.” +</P> +<P>Marquis de Tregars knew well enough the ladies of the class to which +he supposed that Mme. Zelie Cadelle must belong, not to be surprised +at this frank declaration. +</P> +<P>“And yet,” he said, “you are indebted to him for the princely +magnificence that surrounds you here.” +</P> +<P>“Of course.” +</P> +<P>“He being gone, as you say, will you be able to keep up your style +of living?” +</P> +<P>Half raising herself from her seat, +</P> +<P>“I haven't the slightest idea of doing so,” she exclaimed. “Never +in the whole world have I had such a stupid time as for the last +five months that I have spent in this gilded cage. What a bore, +my beloved brethren! I am yawning still at the mere thought of the +number of times I have yawned in it.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars' gesture of surprise was the more natural, that his +surprise was immense. +</P> +<P>“You are tired being here?” he said. +</P> +<P>“To death.” +</P> +<P>“And you have only been here five months?” +</P> +<P>“Dear me; yes! and by the merest chance, too, you'll see. One day +at the beginning of last December, I was coming from—but no matter +where I was coming from. At any rate, I hadn't a cent in my pocket, +and nothing but an old calico dress on my back; and I was going +along, not in the best of humor, as you may imagine, when I feel +that some one is following me. Without looking around, and from +the corner of my eye, I look over my shoulder, and I see a +respectable-looking old gentleman, wearing a long frock-coat.” +</P> +<P>“M. Vincent?” +</P> +<P>“In his own natural person, and who was walking, walking. I quietly +begin to walk slower; and, as soon as we come to a place where there +was hardly any one, he comes up alongside of me.” +</P> +<P>Something comical must have happened at this moment, which Mme. +Zelie Cadelle said nothing about; for she was laughing most heartily, +—a frank and sonorous laughter. +</P> +<P>“Then,” she resumed, “he begins at once to explain that I remind +him of a person whom he loved tenderly, and whom he has just had +the misfortune to lose, adding, that he would deem himself the +happiest of men if I would allow him to take care of me, and insure +me a brilliant position.” +</P> +<P>“You see! That rascally Vincent!” said M. de Tregars, just to be +saying something. +</P> +<P>Mme. Zelie shook her head. +</P> +<P>“You know him,” she resumed. “He is not young; he is not handsome; +he is not funny. I did not fancy him one bit; and, if I had only +known where to find shelter for the night, I'd soon have sent him +to the old Nick,—him and his brilliant position. But, not having +enough money to buy myself a penny-loaf, it wasn't the time to put +on any airs. So I tell him that I accept. He goes for a cab; we +get into it; and he brings me right straight here.” +</P> +<P>Positively M. de Tregars required his entire self-control to conceal +the intensity of his curiosity. +</P> +<P>“Was this house, then, already as it is now?” he interrogated. +</P> +<P>“Precisely, except that there were no servants in it, except the +chambermaid Amanda, who is M. Favoral's confidante. All the others +had been dismissed; and it was a hostler from a stable near by who +came to take care of the horses.” +</P> +<P>“And what then?” +</P> +<P>“Then you may imagine what I looked like in the midst of all this +magnificence, with my old shoes and my fourpenny skirt. Something +like a grease-spot on a satin dress. M. Vincent seemed delighted, +nevertheless. He had sent Amanda out to get me some under-clothing +and a ready-made wrapper; and, whilst waiting, he took me all +through the house, from the cellar to the garret, saying that +everything was at my command, and that the next day I would have a +battalion of servants to wait on me.” +</P> +<P>It was evidently with perfect frankness that she was speaking, and +with the pleasure one feels in telling an extraordinary adventure. +But suddenly she stopped short, as if discovering that she was +forgetting herself, and going farther than was proper. +</P> +<P>And it was only after a moment of reflection that she went on, +</P> +<P>“It was like fairyland to me. I had never tasted the opulence of +the great, you see, and I had never had any money except that which +I earned. So, during the first days, I did nothing but run up and +down stairs, admiring everything, feeling everything with my own +hands, and looking at myself in the glass to make sure that I was +not dreaming. I rang the bell just to make the servants come up; +I spent hours trying dresses; then I'd have the horses put to the +carriage, and either ride to the bois, or go out shopping. M. +Vincent gave me as much money as I wanted; and it seemed as though I +never spent enough. I shout, I was like a mad woman.” +</P> +<P>A cloud appeared upon Mme. Zelie's countenance, and, changing +suddenly her tone and her manner, +</P> +<P>“Unfortunately,” she went on, “one gets tired of every thing. At +the end of two weeks I knew the house from top to bottom, and after +a month I was sick of the whole thing; so that one night I began +dressing. +</P> +<P>“‘Where do you want to go?’ Amanda asked me. +<BR>‘Why, to Mabille, to dance a quadrille, or two.’ +<BR>‘Impossible!’ +<BR>‘Why?’ +<BR>‘Because M. Vincent does not wish you to go out at night.’ +<BR>‘We'll see about that!’ +</P> +<P>“The next day, I tell all this to M. Vincent; and he says that Amanda +is right; that it is not proper for a woman in my position to +frequent balls; and that, if I want to go out at night, I can stay. +Get out! I tell you what, if it hadn't been for the fine carriage, +and all that, I would have cleared out that minute. Any way, I +became disgusted from that moment, and have been more and more ever +since; and, if M. Vincent had not himself left, I certainly would.” +</P> +<P>“To go where?” +</P> +<P>“Anywhere. Look here, now! do you suppose I need a man to support +me! No, thank Heaven! Little Zelie, here present, has only to +apply to any dressmaker, and she'll be glad to give her four francs +a day to run the machine. And she'll be free, at least; and she can +laugh and dance as much as she likes.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars had made a mistake: he had just discovered it. +</P> +<P>Mme. Zelie Cadelle was certainly not particularly virtuous; but she +was far from being the woman he expected to meet. +</P> +<P>“At any rate,” he said, “you did well to wait patiently.” +</P> +<P>“I do not regret it.” +</P> +<P>“If you can keep this house—” +</P> +<P>She interrupted him with a great burst of laughter. +</P> +<P>“This house!” she exclaimed. “Why, it was sold long ago, with every +thing in it,—furniture, horses, carriages, every thing except me. +A young gentleman, very well dressed, bought it for a tall girl, who +looks like a goose, and has far over a thousand francs of red hair on +her head.” +</P> +<P>“Are you sure of that?” +</P> +<P>“Sure as I live, having seen with my own eyes the young swell and +his red-headed friend counting heaps of bank-notes to M. Vincent. +They are to move in day after to-morrow; and they have invited me +to the house-warming. But no more of it for me, I thank you! I +am sick and tired of all these people. And the proof of it is, I +am busy packing my things; and lots of them I have too,—dresses, +underclothes, jewelry. He was a good-natured fellow, old Vincent +was, anyhow. He gave me money enough to buy some furniture. I +have hired a small apartment; and I am going to set up dress-making +on my own hook. And won't we laugh then! and won't we have some +fun to make up for lost time! Come, my children, take your places +for a quadrille. Forward two!” +</P> +<P>And, bouncing out of her chair, she began sketching out one of +those bold cancan steps which astound the policemen on duty in the +ball-rooms. +</P> +<P>“Bravo!” said M. de Tregars, forcing himself to smile,—“bravo!” +</P> +<P>He saw clearly now what sort of woman was Mme. Zelie Cadelle; how +he should speak to her, and what cords he might yet cause to vibrate +within her. He recognized the true daughter of Paris, wayward and +nervous, who in the midst of her disorders preserves an instinctive +pride; who places her independence far above all the money in the +world; who gives, rather than sells, herself; who knows no law but +her caprice, no morality but the policeman, no religion but pleasure. +</P> +<P>As soon as she had returned to her seat, +</P> +<P>“There you are dancing gayly,” he said, “and poor Vincent is +doubtless groaning at this moment over his separation from you.” +</P> +<P>“Ah! I'd pity him if I had time,” she said. +</P> +<P>“He was fond of you?” +</P> +<P>“Don't speak of it.” +</P> +<P>“If he had not been fond of you, he would not have put you here.” +</P> +<P>Mme. Zelie made a little face of equivocal meaning. +</P> +<P>“What proof is that?” she murmured. +</P> +<P>“He would not have spent so much money for you.” +</P> +<P>“For me!” she interrupted,—“for me! What have I cost him of any +consequence? Is it for me that he bought, furnished, and fitted +out this house? No, no! He had the cage; and he put in the bird, +—the first he happened to find. He brought me here as he might +have brought any other woman, young or old, pretty or ugly, blonde +or brunette. As to what I spent here, it was a mere bagatelle +compared with what the other did,—the one before me. Amanda kept +telling me all the time I was a fool. You may believe me, then, +when I tell you that M. Vincent will not wet many handkerchiefs +with the tears he'll shed over me.” +</P> +<P>“But do you know what became of the one before you, as you call her, +—whether she is alive or dead, and owing to what circumstances the +cage became empty?” +</P> +<P>But, instead of answering, Mme. Zelie was fixing upon Marius de +Tregars a suspicious glance. And, after a moment only, +</P> +<P>“Why do you ask me that?” she said. +</P> +<P>“I would like to know.” +</P> +<P>She did not permit him to proceed. Rising from her seat, and +stepping briskly up to him, +</P> +<P>“Do you belong to the police, by chance?” she asked in a tone of +mistrust. +</P> +<P>If she was anxious, it was evidently because she had motives of +anxiety which she had concealed. If, two or three times she had +interrupted herself, it was because, manifestly, she had a secret +to keep. If the idea of police had come into her mind, it is +because, very probably, they had recommended her to be on her guard. +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars understood all this, and, also, that he had tried to +go too fast. +</P> +<P>“Do I look like a secret police-agent?” he asked. +</P> +<P>She was examining him with all her power of penetration. +</P> +<P>“Not at all, I confess,” she replied. “But, if you are not one, how +is it that you come to my house, without knowing me from this side +of sole leather, to ask me a whole lot of questions, which I am +fool enough to answer?” +</P> +<P>“I told you I was a friend of M. Favoral.” +</P> +<P>“Who's that Favoral?” +</P> +<P>“That's M. Vincent's real name, madame.” +</P> +<P>She opened her eyes wide. +</P> +<P>“You must be mistaken. I never heard him called any thing but +Vincent.” +</P> +<P>“It is because he had especial motives for concealing his +personality. The money he spent here did not belong to him: he +took it, he stole it, from the Mutual Credit Company where he was +cashier, and where he left a deficit of twelve millions.” +</P> +<P>Mme. Zelie stepped back as though she had trodden on a snake. +</P> +<P>“It's impossible!” she cried. +</P> +<P>“It is the exact truth. Haven't you seen in the papers the case +of Vincent Favoral, cashier of the Mutual Credit?” +</P> +<P>And, taking a paper from his pocket, he handed it to the young woman, +saying, “Read.” +</P> +<P>But she pushed it back, not without a slight blush. “Oh, I believe +you!” she said. +</P> +<P>The fact is, and Marius understood it, she did not read very +fluently. +</P> +<P>“The worst of M. Vincent Favoral's conduct,” he resumed, “is, that, +while he was throwing away money here by the handful, he subjected +his family to the most cruel privations.” +</P> +<P>“Oh!” +</P> +<P>“He refused the necessaries of life to his wife, the best and the +worthiest of women; he never gave a cent to his son; and he +deprived his daughter of every thing.” +</P> +<P>“Ah, if I could have suspected such a thing!” murmured Mme. Zelie. +</P> +<P>“Finally, and to cap the—climax, he has gone, leaving his wife +and children literally without bread.” +</P> +<P>Transported with indignation, +</P> +<P>“Why, that man must have been a horrible old scoundrel!” exclaimed +the young woman. +</P> +<P>This is just the point to which M. de Tregars wished to bring her. +</P> +<P>“And now,” he resumed, “you must understand the enormous interest +we have in knowing what has become of him.” +</P> +<P>“I have already told you.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars had risen, in his turn. Taking Mme. Zelie's hands, +and fixing upon her one of those acute looks, which search for the +truth down to the innermost recesses of the conscience, +</P> +<P>“Come, my dear child,” he began in a penetrating voice, “you are a +worthy and honest girl. Will you leave in the most frightful +despair a family who appeal to your heart? Be sure that no harm +will ever happen through us to Vincent Favoral.” +</P> +<P>She raised her hand, as they do to take an oath in a court of +justice, and, in a solemn tone, +</P> +<P>“I swear,” she uttered, “that I went to the station with M. Vincent; +that he assured me that he was going to Brazil; that he had his +passage-ticket; and that all his baggage was marked, ‘Rio de +Janeiro.’” +</P> +<P>The disappointment was great: and M. de Tregars manifested it by +a gesture. +</P> +<P>“At least,” he insisted, “tell me who the woman was whose place you +took here.” +</P> +<P>But already had the young woman returned to her feeling of mistrust. +</P> +<P>“How in the world do you expect me to know?” she replied. “Go and +ask Amanda. I have no accounts to give you. Besides, I have to +go and finish packing my trunks. So good-by, and enjoy yourself.” +</P> +<P>And she went out so quick, that she caught Amanda, the chambermaid, +kneeling behind the door. +</P> +<P>“So that woman was listening,” thought M. de Tregars, anxious and +dissatisfied. +</P> +<P>But it was in vain that he begged Mme. Zelie to return, and to hear +a single word more. She disappeared; and he had to resign himself +to leave the house without learning any thing more for the present. +</P> +<P>He had remained there very long; and he was wondering, as he walked +out, whether Maxence had not got tired waiting for him in the little +Café where he had sent him. +</P> +<P>But Maxence had remained faithfully at his post. And when Marius de +Tregars came to sit by him, whilst exclaiming, “Here you are at last!” +he called his attention at the same time with a gesture, and a wink +from the corner of his eye, to two men sitting at the adjoining table +before a bowl of punch. +</P> +<P>Certain, now, that M. de Tregars would remain on the lookout, Maxence +was knocking on the table with his fist, to call the waiter, who was +busy playing billiards with a customer. +</P> +<P>And when he came at last, justly annoyed at being disturbed, +</P> +<P>“Give us two mugs of beer,” Maxence ordered, “and bring us a pack +of cards.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars understood very well that something extraordinary had +happened; but, unable to guess what, he leaned over towards his +companion. +</P> +<P>“What is it?” he whispered. +</P> +<P>“We must hear what these two men are saying; and we'll play a game +of piquet for a subterfuge.” +</P> +<P>The waiter returned, bringing two glasses of a muddy liquid, a piece +of cloth, the color of which was concealed under a layer of dirt, and +a pack of cards horribly soft and greasy. +</P> +<P>“My deal,” said Maxence. +</P> +<P>And he began shuffling, and giving the cards, whilst M. de Tregars +was examining the punch-drinkers at the next table. +</P> +<P>In one of the two, a man still young, wearing a striped vest with +alpaca sleeves, he thought he recognized one of the rascally-looking +fellows he had caught a glimpse of in Mme. Zelie Cadelle's +carriage-house. +</P> +<P>The other, an old man, whose inflamed complexion and blossoming +nose betrayed old habits of drunkenness, looked very much like a +coachman out of place. Baseness and duplicity bloomed upon his +countenance; and the brightness of his small eyes rendered still +more alarming the slyly obsequious smile that was stereotyped upon +his thin and pale lips. +</P> +<P>They were so completely absorbed in their conversation, that they +paid no attention whatever to what was going on around them. +</P> +<P>“Then,” the old one was saying, “it's all over.” +</P> +<P>“Entirely. The house is sold.” +</P> +<P>“And the boss?” +</P> +<P>“Gone to America.” +</P> +<P>“What! Suddenly, that way?” +</P> +<P>“No. We supposed he was going on some journey, because, every day +since the beginning of the week, they were bringing in trunks and +boxes; but no one knew exactly when he would go. Now, in the night +of Saturday to Sunday, he drops in the house like a bombshell, wakes +up everybody, and says he must leave immediately. At once we +harness up, we load the baggage up, we drive him to the Western +Railway Station, and good-by, Vincent!” +</P> +<P>“And the young lady?” +</P> +<P>“She's got to get out in the next twenty-four hours; but she don't +seem to mind it one bit. The fact is we are the ones who grieve +the most, after all.” +</P> +<P>“Is it possible?” +</P> +<P>“It is so. She was a good girl; and we won't soon find one like +her.” +</P> +<P>The old man seemed distressed. +</P> +<P>“Bad luck!” he growled. “I would have liked that house myself.” +</P> +<P>“Oh, I dare say you would!” +</P> +<P>“And there is no way to get in?” +</P> +<P>“Can't tell. It will be well to see the others, those who have +bought. But I mistrust them: they look too stupid not to be mean.” +</P> +<P>Listening intently to the conversation of these two men, it was +mechanically and at random that M. de Tregars and Maxence threw +their cards on the table, and uttered the common terms of the game +of piquet, +</P> +<P>“Five cards! Tierce, major! Three aces.” +</P> +<P>Meantime the old man was going on, +</P> +<P>“Who knows but what M. Vincent may come back?” +</P> +<P>“No danger of that!” +</P> +<P>“Why?” +</P> +<P>The other looked carefully around, and, seeing only two players +absorbed in their game, +</P> +<P>“Because,” he replied, “M. Vincent is completely ruined, it seems. +He spent all his money, and a good deal of other people's money +besides. Amanda, the chambermaid, told me; and I guess she knows.” +</P> +<P>“You thought he was so rich!” +</P> +<P>“He was. But no matter how big a bag is: if you keep taking out +of it, you must get to the bottom.” +</P> +<P>“Then he spent a great deal?” +</P> +<P>“It's incredible! I have been in extravagant houses; but nowhere +have I ever seen money fly as it has during the five months that I +have been in that house. A regular pillage! Everybody helped +themselves; and what was not in the house, they could get from the +tradespeople, have it charged on the bill; and it was all paid +without a word.” +</P> +<P>“Then, yes, indeed, the money must have gone pretty lively,” said +the old one in a convinced tone. +</P> +<P>“Well,” replied the other, “that was nothing yet. Amanda the +chambermaid who has been in the house fifteen years, told us some +stories that would make you jump. She was not much for spending, +Zelie; but some of the others, it seems . . .” +</P> +<P>It required the greatest effort on the part of Maxence and M. de +Tregars not to play, but only to pretend to play, and to continue +to count imaginary points,—“One, two, three, four.” +</P> +<P>Fortunately the coachman with the red nose seemed much interested. +</P> +<P>“What others?” he asked. +</P> +<P>“That I don't know any thing about,” replied the younger valet. +“But you may imagine that there must have been more than one in that +little house during the many years that M. Vincent owned it,—a man who +hadn't his equal for women, and who was worth millions.” +</P> +<P>“And what was his business?” +</P> +<P>“Don't know that, either.” +</P> +<P>“What! there were ten of you in the house, and you didn't know the +profession of the man who paid you all?” +</P> +<P>“We were all new.” +</P> +<P>“The chambermaid, Amanda, must have known.” +</P> +<P>“When she was asked, she said that he was a merchant. One thing is +sure, he was a queer old chap.” +</P> +<P>So interested was the old coachman, that, seeing the punch-bowl +empty, he called for another. His comrade could not fail to show +his appreciation of such politeness. +</P> +<P>“Ah, yes!” he went on, “old Vincent was an eccentric fellow; and +never, to see him, could you have suspected that he cut up such +capers, and that he threw money away by the handful.” +</P> +<P>“Indeed!” +</P> +<P>“Imagine a man about fifty years old, stiff as a post, with a face +about as pleasant as a prison-gate. That's the boss! Summer and +winter, he wore laced shoes, blue stockings, gray pantaloons that +were too short, a cotton necktie, and a frock-coat that came down +to his ankles. In the street, you would have taken him for a hosier +who had retired before his fortune was made.” +</P> +<P>“You don't say so!” +</P> +<P>“No, never have I seen a man look so much like an old miser. You +think, perhaps, that he came in a carriage. Not a bit of it! He +came in the omnibus, my boy, and outside too, for three sous; and +when it rained he opened his umbrella. But the moment he had +crossed the threshold of the house, presto, pass! complete change +of scene. The miser became pacha. He took off his old duds, put +on a blue velvet robe; and then there was nothing handsome enough, +nothing good enough, nothing expensive enough for him. And, when +he had acted the my lord to his heart's content, he put on his old +traps again, resumed his prison-gate face, climbed up on top of the +omnibus, and went off as he came.” +</P> +<P>“And you were not surprised, all of you, at such a life?” +</P> +<P>“Very much so.” +</P> +<P>“And you did not think that these singular whims must conceal +something?” +</P> +<P>“Oh, but we did!” +</P> +<P>“And you didn't try to find out what that something was?” +</P> +<P>“How could we?” +</P> +<P>“Was it very difficult to follow your boss, and ascertain where he +went, after leaving the house?” +</P> +<P>“Certainly not; but what then?” +</P> +<P>“Why,” he replied, “you would have found out his secret in the end; +and then you would have gone to him and told him, ‘Give me so much, +or I peach.’” +</P> + + +<H2>V + +</H2><P>This story of M. Vincent, as told by these two honest companions, +was something like the vulgar legend of other people's money, so +eagerly craved, and so madly dissipated. Easily-gotten wealth is +easily gotten rid of. Stolen money has fatal tendencies, and turns +irresistibly to gambling, horse-jockeys, fast women, all the ruinous +fancies, all the unwholesome gratifications. +</P> +<P>They are rare indeed, among the daring cut-throats of speculation, +those to whom their ill-gotten gain proves of real service,—so +rare, that they are pointed out, and are as easily numbered as the +girls who leap some night from the street to a ten-thousand-franc +apartment, and manage to remain there. +</P> +<P>Seized with the intoxication of sudden wealth, they lose all measure +and all prudence. Whether they believe their luck inexhaustible, or +fear a sudden turn of fortune, they make haste to enjoy themselves, +and they fill the noted restaurants, the leading Cafés, the theatres, +the clubs, the race-courses, with their impudent personality, the +clash of their voice, the extravagance of their mistresses, the +noise of their expenses, and the absurdity of their vanity. And +they go on and on, lavishing other people's money, until the fatal +hour of one of those disastrous liquidations which terrify the +courts and the exchange, and cause pallid faces and a gnashing of +teeth in the “street,” until the moment when they have the choice +between a pistol-shot, which they never choose, the criminal court, +which they do their best to avoid, and a trip abroad. +</P> +<P>What becomes of them afterwards? To what gutters do they tumble +from fall to fall? Does any one know what becomes of the women who +disappear suddenly after two or three years of follies and of +splendors? +</P> +<P>But it happens sometimes, as you step out of a carriage in front of +some theatre, that you wonder where you have already seen the face +of the wretched beggar who opens the door for you, and in a husky +voice claims his two sous. You saw him at the Café Riche, during +the six months that he was a big financier. +</P> +<P>Some other time you may catch, in the crowd, snatches of a strange +conversation between two crapulous rascals. +</P> +<P>“It was at the time,” says one, “when I drove that bright chestnut +team that I had bought for twenty thousand francs of the eldest son +of the Duke de Sermeuse.” +</P> +<P>“I remember,” replies the other; “for at that moment I gave six +thousand francs a month to little Cabriole of the Varieties.” +</P> +<P>And, improbable as this may seem, it is the exact truth; for one +was manager of a manufacturing enterprise that sank ten millions; +and the other was at the head of a financial operation that ruined +five hundred families. They had houses like the one in the Rue du +Cirque, mistresses more expensive than Mme. Zelie Cadelle, and +servants like those who were now talking within a step of Maxence +and Marius de Tregars. The latter had resumed their conversation; +and the oldest one, the coachman with the red nose, was saying to +his younger comrade, +</P> +<P>“This Vincent affair must be a lesson to you. If ever you find +yourself again in a house where so much money is spent, remember +that it hasn't cost much trouble to make it, and manage somehow +to get as big a share of it as you can.” +</P> +<P>“That's what I've always done wherever I have been.” +</P> +<P>“And, above all, make haste to fill your bag, because, you see, +in houses like that, one is never sure, one day, whether, the +next, the gentleman will not be at Mazas, and the lady at St. +Lazares.” +</P> +<P>They had done their second bowl of punch, and finished their +conversation. They paid, and left. +</P> +<P>And Maxence and M. de Tregars were able, at last, to throw down +their cards. +</P> +<P>Maxence was very pale; and big tears were rolling down his cheeks. +</P> +<P>“What disgrace!” he murmured: “This, then, is the other side of +my father's existence! This is the way in which he spent the +millions which he stole; whilst, in the Rue St. Gilles, he +deprived his family of the necessaries of life!” +</P> +<P>And, in a tone of utter discouragement, +</P> +<P>“Now it is indeed all over, and it is useless to continue our +search. My father is certainly guilty.” +</P> +<P>But M. de Tregars was not the man thus to give up the game. +</P> +<P>“Guilty? Yes,” he said, “but dupe also.” +</P> +<P>“Whose dupe?” +</P> +<P>“That's what we'll find out, you may depend upon it.” +</P> +<P>“What! after what we have just heard?” +</P> +<P>“I have more hope than ever.” +</P> +<P>“Did you learn any thing from Mme. Zelie Cadelle, then?” +</P> +<P>“Nothing more than you know by those two rascals' conversation.” +</P> +<P>A dozen questions were pressing upon Maxence's lips; but M. de +Tregars interrupted him. +</P> +<P>“In this case, my friend, less than ever must we trust appearances. +Let me speak. Was your father a simpleton? No! His ability to +dissimulate, for years, his double existence, proves, on the +contrary, a wonderful amount of duplicity. How is it, then, that +latterly his conduct has been so extraordinary and so absurd? But +you will doubtless say it was always such. In that case, I answer +you, No; for then his secret could not have been kept for a year. +We hear that other women lived in that house before Mme. Zelie +Cadelle. But who were they? What has become of them? Is there +any certainty that they have ever existed? Nothing proves it. +</P> +<P>“The servants having been all changed, Amanda, the chambermaid, is +the only one who knows the truth; and she will be very careful to +say nothing about it. Therefore, all our positive information +goes back no farther than five months. And what do we hear? That +your father seemed to try and make his extravagant expenditures as +conspicuous as possible. That he did not even take the trouble to +conceal the source of the money he spent so profusely; for he told +Mme. Zelie that he was at the end of his tether, and that, after +having spent his own fortune, he was spending other people's money. +He had announced his intended departure; he had sold the house, and +received its price. Finally, at the last moment, what does he do? +</P> +<P>“Instead of going off quietly and secretly, like a man who is +running away, and who knows that he is pursued, he tells every one +where he intends to go; he writes it on all his trunks, in letters +half a foot high; and then rides in great display to the railway +station, with a woman, several carriages, servants, etc. What is +the object of all this? To get caught? No, but to start a false +scent. Therefore, in his mind, every thing must have been arranged +in advance, and the catastrophe was far from taking him by surprise; +therefore the scene with M. de Thaller must have been prepared; +therefore, it must have been on purpose that he left his pocketbook +behind, with the bill in it that was to lead us straight here; +therefore all we have seen is but a transparent comedy, got up for +our special benefit, and intended to cover up the truth, and +mislead the law.” +</P> +<P>But Maxence was not entirely convinced. +</P> +<P>“Still,” he remarked, “those enormous expenses.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars shrugged his shoulders. +</P> +<P>“Have you any idea,” he said, “what display can be made with a +million? Let us admit that your father spent two, four millions +even. The loss of the Mutual Credit is twelve millions. What has +become of the other eight?” +</P> +<P>And, as Maxence made no answer, +</P> +<P>“It is those eight millions,” he added, “that I want, and that I +shall have. It is in Paris that your father is hid, I feel certain. +We must find him; and we must make him tell the truth, which I +already more than suspect.” +</P> +<P>Whereupon, throwing on the table the pint of beer which he had not +drunk, he walked out of the Café with Maxence. +</P> +<P>“Here you are at last!” exclaimed the coachman, who had been +waiting at the corner for over three hours, a prey to the utmost +anxiety. +</P> +<P>But M. de Tregars had no time for explanations; and, pushing +Maxence into the cab, he jumped in after him, crying to the +coachman, +</P> +<P>“24 Rue Joquelet. Five francs extra for yourself.” A driver who +expects an extra five francs, always has, for five minutes at least, +a horse as fast as Gladiateur. +</P> +<P>Whilst the cab was speeding on to its destination, +</P> +<P>“What is most important for us now,” said M. de Tregars to Maxence, +“is to ascertain how far the Mutual Credit crisis has progressed; +and M. Latterman of the Rue Joquelet is the man in all Paris who +can best inform us.” +</P> +<P>Whoever has made or lost five hundred francs at the bourse knows M. +Latterman, who, since the war, calls himself an Alsatian and curses +with a fearful accent those “parparous Broossians.” This worthy +speculator modestly calls himself a money-changer; but he would +be a simpleton who should ask him for change: and it is certainly +not that sort of business which gives him the three hundred thousand +francs' profits which he pockets every year. +</P> +<P>When a company has failed, when it has been wound up, and the +defrauded stockholders have received two or three per cent in all +on their original investment, there is a prevailing idea that the +certificates of its stocks are no longer good for any thing, except +to light the fire. That's a mistake. Long after the company has +foundered, its shares float, like the shattered debris which the +sea casts upon the beach months after the ship has been wrecked. +These shares M. Latterman collects, and carefully stores away; and +upon the shelves of his office you may see numberless shares and +bonds of those numerous companies which have absorbed, in the past +twenty years, according to some statistics, twelve hundred millions, +and, according to others, two thousand millions, of the public +fortune. +</P> +<P>Say but a word, and his clerks will offer you some “Franco-American +Company,” some “Steam Navigation Company of Marseilles,” some “Coal +and Metal Company of the Asturias,” some “Transcontinental +Memphis and El Paso” (of the United States), some “Caumart Slate +Works,” and hundreds of others, which, for the general public, have +no value, save that of old paper, that is from three to five cents +a pound. And yet speculators are found who buy and sell these +rags. +</P> +<P>In an obscure corner of the bourse may be seen a miscellaneous +population of old men with pointed beards, and overdressed young +men, who deal in every thing salable, and other things besides. +There are found foreign merchants, who will offer you stocks of +merchandise, goods from auction, good claims to recover, and who +at last will take out of their pockets an opera-glass, a Geneva +watch (smuggled in), a revolver, or a bottle of patent hair-restorer. +</P> +<P>Such is the market to which drift those shares which were once +issued to represent millions, and which now represent nothing but +a palpable proof of the audacity of swindlers, and the credulity +of their dupes. And there are actually buyers for these shares, +and they go up or down, according to the ordinary laws of supply +and demand; for there is a demand for them, and here comes in the +usefulness of M. Latterman's business. +</P> +<P>Does a tradesman, on the eve of declaring himself bankrupt, wish +to defraud his creditors of a part of his assets, to conceal +excessive expenses, or cover up some embezzlement, at once he goes +to the Rue Joquelet, procures a select assortment of “Cantonal +Credit,” “Rossdorif Mines,” or “Maumusson Salt Works,” and puts +them carefully away in his safe. +</P> +<P>And, when the receiver arrives, +</P> +<P>“There are my assets,” he says. “I have there some twenty, fifty, +or a hundred thousand francs of stocks, the whole of which is not +worth five francs to-day; but it isn't my fault. I thought it a +good investment; and I didn't sell, because I always thought the +price would come up again.” +</P> +<P>And he gets his discharge, because it would really be too cruel to +punish a man because he has made unfortunate investments. +</P> +<P>Better than any one, M. Latterman knows for what purpose are +purchased the valueless securities which he sells; and he actually +advises his customers which to take in preference, in order that +their purchase at the time of their issue may appear more natural, +and more likely. Nevertheless, he claims to be a perfectly honest +man, and declares that he is no more responsible for the swindles +that are committed by means of his stocks than a gunsmith for a +murder committed with a gun that he has sold. +</P> +<P>“But he will surely be able to tell us all about the Mutual Credit,” +repeated Maxence to M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>Four o'clock struck when the carriage stopped in the Rue Joquelet. +The bourse had just closed; and a few groups were still standing in +the square, or along the railings. +</P> +<P>“I hope we shall find this Latterman at home,” said Maxence. +</P> +<P>They started up the stairs (for it is up on the second floor that +this worthy operator has his offices); and, having inquired, +</P> +<P>“M. Latterman is engaged with a customer,” answered a clerk. +“Please sit down and wait.” +</P> +<P>M. Latterman's office was like all other caverns of the same kind. +A very narrow space was reserved to the public; and all around, +behind a heavy wire screen, the clerks could be seen busy with +figures, or handling coupons. On the right, over a small window, +appeared the word, “CASHIER.” A small door on the left led to +the private office. +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars and Maxence had patiently taken a seat on a hard +leather bench, once red; and they were listening and looking on. +</P> +<P>There was considerable animation about the place. Every few +minutes, well-dressed young men came in with a hurried and +important look, and, taking out of their pocket a memorandum-book, +they would speak a few sentences of that peculiar dialect, +bristling with figures, which is the language of the bourse. At +the end of fifteen or twenty minutes, +</P> +<P>“Will M. Latterman be engaged much longer?” inquired M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>“I do not know,” replied a clerk. +</P> +<P>At that very moment, the little door on the left opened, and the +customer came out who had detained M. Latterman so long. This +customer was no other than M. Costeclar. Noticing M. de Tregars +and Maxence, who had risen at the noise of the door, he appeared +most disagreeably surprised. He even turned slightly pale, and +took a step backwards, as if intending to return precipitately +into the room that he was leaving; for M. Latterman's office, +like that of all other large operators, had several doors, without +counting the one that leads to the police-court. But M. de +Tregars gave him no time to effect this retreat. Stepping suddenly +forward, +</P> +<P>“Well?” he asked him in a tone that was almost threatening. +</P> +<P>The brilliant financier had condescended to take off his hat, +usually riveted upon his head, and, with the smile of a knave caught +in the act, +</P> +<P>“I did not expect to meet you here, my lord-marquis,” he said. +</P> +<P>At the title of “marquis,” everybody looked up. “I believe you, +indeed,” said M. de Tregars. “But what I want to know is, how +is the matter progressing?” +</P> +<P>“The plot is thickening. Justice is acting.” +</P> +<P>“Indeed!” +</P> +<P>“It is a fact. Jules Jottras, of the house of Jottras and Brother, +was arrested this morning, just as he arrived at the bourse.” +</P> +<P>“Why?” +</P> +<P>“Because, it seems, he was an accomplice of Favoral; and it was +he who sold the bonds stolen from the Mutual Credit.” +</P> +<P>Maxence had started at the mention of his father's name but, with +a significant glance, M. de Tregars bid him remain silent, and, +in a sarcastic tone, +</P> +<P>“Famous capture!” he murmured. “And which proves the +clear-sightedness of justice.” +</P> +<P>“But this is not all,” resumed M. Costeclar. “Saint Pavin, the +editor of ‘The Financial Pilot,’ you know, is thought to be seriously +compromised. There was a rumor, at the close of the market, that a +warrant either had been, or was about to be, issued against him.” +</P> +<P>“And the Baron de Thaller?” +</P> +<P>The employes of the office could not help admiring M. Costeclar's +extraordinary amount of patience. +</P> +<P>“The baron,” he replied, “made his appearance at the bourse this +afternoon, and was the object of a veritable ovation.” +</P> +<P>“That is admirable! And what did he say?” +</P> +<P>“That the damage was already repaired.” +</P> +<P>“Then the shares of the Mutual Credit must have advanced.” +</P> +<P>“Unfortunately, not. They did not go above one hundred and ten +francs.” +</P> +<P>“Were you not astonished at that?” +</P> +<P>“Not much, because, you see, I am a business-man, I am; and I know +pretty well how things work. When they left M. de Thaller this +morning, the stockholders of the Mutual Credit had a meeting; and +they pledged themselves, upon honor, not to sell, so as not to break +the market. As soon as they had separated, each one said to himself, +‘Since the others are going to keep their stock, like fools, I am +going to sell mine.’ Now, as there were three or four hundred of +them who argued the same way, the market was flooded with shares.” +</P> +<P>Looking the brilliant financier straight in the eyes, +</P> +<P>“And yourself?” interrupted M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>“I!” stammered M. Costeclar, so visibly agitated, that the clerks +could not help laughing. +</P> +<P>“Yes. I wish to know if you have been more faithful to your word +than the stockholders of whom you are speaking, and whether you +have done as we had agreed.” +</P> +<P>“Certainly; and, if you find me here—” +</P> +<P>But M. de Tregars, placing his own hand over his shoulder, stopped +him short. +</P> +<P>“I think I know what brought you here,” he uttered; “and in a few +moments I shall have ascertained.” +</P> +<P>“I swear to you.” +</P> +<P>“Don't swear. If I am mistaken, so much the better for you. If I +am not mistaken, I'll prove to you that it is dangerous to try any +sharp game on me, though I am not a business-man.” +</P> +<P>Meantime M. Latterman, seeing no customer coming to take the place +of the one who had left, became impatient at last, and appeared +upon the threshold of his private office. +</P> +<P>He was a man still young, small, thick-set, and vulgar. At the +first glance, nothing of him could be seen but his abdomen,—a big, +great, and ponderous abdomen, seat of his thoughts, and tabernacle +of his aspirations, over which dangled a double gold chain, loaded +with trinkets. Above an apoplectic neck, red as that of a +turkey-cock, stood his little head, covered with coarse red hair, +cut very short. He wore a heavy beard, trimmed in the form of a fan. +His large, full-moon face was divided in two by a nose as flat as a +Kalmuck's, and illuminated by two small eyes, in which could be read +the most thorough duplicity. +</P> +<P>Seeing M. de Tregars and M. Costeclar engaged in conversation, +</P> +<P>“Why! you know each other?” he said. +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars advanced a step, +</P> +<P>“We are even intimate friends,” he replied. “And it is very lucky +that we should have met. I am brought here by the same matter as +our dear Costeclar; and I was just explaining to him that he has +been too hasty, and that it would be best to wait three or four days +longer.” +</P> +<P>“That's just what I told him,” echoed the honorable financier. +</P> +<P>Maxence understood only one thing,—that M. de Tregars had +penetrated M. Costeclar's designs; and he could not sufficiently +admire his presence of mind, and his skill in grasping an unexpected +opportunity. +</P> +<P>“Fortunately there is nothing done yet,” added M. Latterman. +</P> +<P>“And it is yet time to alter what has been agreed on,” said M. de +Tregars. And, addressing himself to Costeclar, +</P> +<P>“Come,” he added, “we'll fix things with M. Latterman.” +</P> +<P>But the other, who remembered the scene in the Rue St. Gilles, and +who had his own reasons to be alarmed, would sooner have jumped out +of the window. +</P> +<P>“I am expected,” he stammered. “Arrange matters without me.” +</P> +<P>“Then you give me carte blanche?” +</P> +<P>Ah, if the brilliant financier had dared! But he felt upon him such +threatening eyes, that he dared not even make a gesture of denial. +</P> +<P>“Whatever you do will be satisfactory,” he said in the tone of a +man who sees himself lost. +</P> +<P>And, as he was going out of the door, M. de Tregars stepped into +M. Latterman's private office. He remained only five minutes; and +when he joined Maxence, whom he had begged to wait for him, +</P> +<P>“I think that we have got them,” he said as they walked off. +</P> +<P>Their next visit was to M. Saint Pavin, at the office of “The +Financial Pilot.” Every one must have seen at least one copy of +that paper with its ingenious vignette, representing a bold mariner +steering a boat, filled with timid passengers, towards the harbor +of Million, over a stormy sea, bristling with the rocks of failure +and the shoals of ruin. The office of “The Pilot” is, in fact, +less a newspaper office than a sort of general business agency. +</P> +<P>As at M. Latterman's, there are clerks scribbling behind wire +screens, small windows, a cashier, and an immense blackboard, on +which the latest quotations of the Rente, and other French and +foreign securities, are written in chalk. +</P> +<P>As “The Pilot” spends some hundred thousand francs a year in +advertising, in order to obtain subscribers; as, on the other hand, +it only costs three francs a year,—it is clear that it is not on +its subscriptions that it realizes any profits. It has other +sources of income: its brokerages first; for it buys, sells, and +executes, as the prospectus says, all orders for stocks, bonds, or +other securities, for the best interests of the client. And it has +plenty of business. +</P> +<P>To the opulent brokerages, must be added advertising and puffing, +—another mine. Six times out of ten, when a new enterprise is set +on foot, the organizers send for Saint Pavin. Honest men, or +knaves, they must all pass through his hands. They know it, and +are resigned in advance. +</P> +<P>“We rely upon you,” they say to him. +</P> +<P>“What advantages have you to offer?” he replies. +</P> +<P>Then they discuss the operation, the expected profits of the new +company, and M. Saint Pavin's demands. For a hundred thousand +francs he promises bursts of lyrism; for fifty thousand he will be +enthusiastic only. Twenty thousand francs will secure a moderate +praise of the affair; ten thousand, a friendly neutrality. And, +if the said company refuses any advantages to “The Pilot”— +</P> +<P>“Ah, you must beware!” says Saint Pavin. +</P> +<P>And from the very next number he commences his campaign. He is +moderate at first, and leaves a door open for his retreat. He +puts forth doubts only. He does not know much about it. “It may +be an excellent thing; it may be a wretched one: the safest is to +wait and see.” +</P> +<P>That's the first hint. If it remains without result, he takes up +his pen again, and makes his doubts more pointed. +</P> +<P>He knows how to steer clear of libel suits, how to handle figures +so as to demonstrate, according to the requirements of the case, +that two and two make three, or make five. It is seldom, that, +before the third article, the company does not surrender at +discretion. +</P> +<P>All Paris knows him; and he has many friends. When M. de Tregars +and Maxence arrived, they found the office full of people +—speculators, brokers, go-betweens—come there to discuss +the fluctuations of the day and the probabilities of the evening +market. +</P> +<P>“M. Saint Pavin is engaged,” one of the clerks told them. +</P> +<P>Indeed, his coarse voice could be distinctly heard behind the screen. +Soon he appeared, showing out an old gentleman, who seemed utterly +confused at the scene, and to whom he was screaming, +</P> +<P>“No, sir, no! ‘The Financial Pilot’ does not take that sort of +business; and I find you very bold to come and propose to me a +twopenny rascality.” But, noticing Maxence, +</P> +<P>“M. Favoral!” he said. “By Jove! it is your good star that has +brought you here. Come into the private office, my dear sir: come, +we'll have some fun now.” +</P> +<P>Many of the people who were in the office had a word to say to M. +Saint Pavin, some advice to ask him, an order to transmit, or some +news to communicate. They had all stepped forward, and were holding +out their hands with a friendly smile. He set them aside with his +usual rudeness. +</P> +<P>“By and by. I am busy now: leave me alone.” +</P> +<P>And pushing Maxence towards the office-door, which he had just +opened, +</P> +<P>“Come in, come in!” he said in a tone of extraordinary impatience. +</P> +<P>But M. de Tregars was coming in too; and, as he did not know him, +</P> +<P>“What do you want, you?” he asked roughly. +</P> +<P>“The gentleman is my best friend,” said Maxence, turning to him; +“and I have no secret from him.” +</P> +<P>“Let him walk in, then; but, by Heaven, let us hurry!” +</P> +<P>Once very sumptuous, the private office of the editor of “The +Financial Pilot” had fallen into a state of sordid dilapidation. +If the janitor had received orders never to use a broom or a duster +there, he obeyed them strictly. Disorder and dirt reigned supreme. +Papers and manuscripts lay in all directions; and on the broad +sofas the mud from the boots of all those who had lounged upon +them had been drying for months. On the mantel-piece, in the +midst of some half-dozen dirty glasses, stood a bottle of Madeira, +half empty. Finally, before the fireplace, on the carpet, and +along the furniture, cigar and cigarette stumps were heaped in +profusion. +</P> +<P>As soon as he had bolted the door, coming straight to Maxence, +</P> +<P>“What has become of your father?” inquired M. Saint Pavin rudely. +</P> +<P>Maxence started. That was the last question he expected to hear. +</P> +<P>“I do not know,” he replied. +</P> +<P>The manager of “The Pilot” shrugged his shoulders. “That you +should say so to the commissary of police, to the judges, and to +all Favoral's enemies, I understand: it is your duty. That they +should believe you, I understand too; for, after all, what do +they care? But to me, a friend, though you may not think so, and +who has reasons not to be credulous——” +</P> +<P>“I swear to you that we have no idea where he has taken refuge.” +</P> +<P>Maxence said this with such an accent of sincerity, that doubt was +no longer possible. M. Saint Pavin's features expressed the utmost +surprise. +</P> +<P>“What!” he exclaimed, “your father has gone without securing the +means of hearing from his family?” +</P> +<P>“Yes.” +</P> +<P>“Without saying a word of his intentions to your mother, or your +sister, or yourself?” +</P> +<P>“Without one word.” +</P> +<P>“Without leaving any money, perhaps?” +</P> +<P>“We found only an insignificant sum after he left.” The editor of +“The Pilot” made a gesture of ironical admiration. “Well, the +thing is complete,” he said; “and Vincent is a smarter fellow than +I gave him credit for; or else he must have cared more for those +infernal women of his than any one supposed.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars, who had remained hitherto silent, now stepped +forward. +</P> +<P>“What women?” he asked. +</P> +<P>“How do I know?” he replied roughly. “How could any one ever find +out any thing about a man who was more hermetically shut up in his +coat than a Jesuit in his gown?” +</P> +<P>“M. Costeclar—” +</P> +<P>“That's another nice bird! Still he may possibly have discovered +something of Vincent's life; for he led him a pretty dance. +Wasn't he about to marry Mlle. Favoral once?” +</P> +<P>“Yes, in spite of herself even.” +</P> +<P>“Then you are right: he had discovered something. But, if you rely +on him to tell you anything whatever, you are reckoning without +your host.” +</P> +<P>“Who knows?” murmured M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>But M. Saint Pavin heard him not. Prey to a violent agitation, he +was pacing up and down the room. +</P> +<P>“Ah, those men of cold appearance,” he growled, “those men with +discreet countenance, those close-shaving calculators, those +moralists! What fools they do make of themselves when once +started! Who can imagine to what insane extremities this one +may have been driven under the spur of some mad passion!” +</P> +<P>And stamping violently his foot upon the carpet, from which arose +clouds of dust, +</P> +<P>“And yet,” he swore, “I must find him. And, by thunder! wherever +he may be hid, I shall find him.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars was watching M. Saint Pavin with a scrutinizing eye. +</P> +<P>“You have a great interest in finding him, then?” he said. +</P> +<P>The other stopped short. +</P> +<P>“I have the interest,” he replied, “of a man who thought himself +shrewd, and who has been taken in like a child,—of a man to whom +they had promised wonders, and who finds his situation imperilled, +—of a man who is tired of working for a band of brigands who heap +millions upon millions, and to whom, for all reward, they offer +the police-court and a retreat in the State Prison for his old age, +—in a word, the interests of a man who will and shall have revenge, +by all that is holy!” +</P> +<P>“On whom?” +</P> +<P>“On the Baron de Thaller, sir! How, in the world, has he been +able to compel Favoral to assume the responsibility of all, and +to disappear? What enormous sum has he given to him?” +</P> +<P>“Sir,” interrupted Maxence, “my father went off without a sou.” +</P> +<P>M. Saint Pavin burst out in a loud laugh. +</P> +<P>“And the twelve millions?” he asked. “What has become of them? +Do you suppose they have been distributed in deeds of charity?” +</P> +<P>And without waiting for any further objections, +</P> +<P>“And yet,” he went on, “it is not with money alone that a man can +be induced to disgrace himself, to confess himself a thief and a +forger, to brave the galleys, to give up everything,—country, +family, friends. Evidently the Baron de Thaller must have had +other means of action, some hold on Favoral—” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars interrupted him. +</P> +<P>“You speak,” he said, “as if you were absolutely certain of M. de Thaller's +complicity.” +</P> +<P>“Of course.” +</P> +<P>“Why don't you inform on him, then?” +</P> +<P>The editor of “The Pilot” started back. “What!” he exclaimed, “draw +the fingers of the law into my own business! You don't think of it! +Besides, what good would that do me? I have no proofs of my +allegations. Do you suppose that Thaller has not taken his +precautions, and tied my hands? No, no! without Favoral there is +nothing to be done.” +</P> +<P>“Do you suppose, then, that you could induce him to surrender +himself?” +</P> +<P>“No, but to furnish me the proofs I need, to send Thaller where they +have already sent that poor Jottras.” +</P> +<P>And, becoming more and more excited, +</P> +<P>“But it is not in a month that I should want those proofs,” he went +on, “nor even in two weeks, but to-morrow, but at this very moment. +Before the end of the week, Thaller will have wound up the operation, +realized, Heaven knows how many millions, and put every thing in +such nice order, that justice, who in financial matters is not of +the first capacity, will discover nothing wrong. If he can do that, +he is safe, he is beyond reach, and will be dubbed a first-class +financier. Then to what may he not aspire! Already he talks of +having himself elected deputy; and he says everywhere that he has +found, to marry his daughter, a gentleman who bears one of the +oldest names in France,—the Marquis de Tregars.” +</P> +<P>“Why, this is the Marquis de Tregars!” exclaimed Maxence, pointing +to Marius. +</P> +<P>For the first time, M. Saint Pavin took the trouble to examine his +visitor; and he, who knew life too well not to be a judge of men, +he seemed surprised. +</P> +<P>“Please excuse me, sir,” he uttered with a politeness very different +from his usual manner, “and permit me to ask you if you know the +reasons why M. de Thaller is so prodigiously anxious to have you +for a son-in-law.” +</P> +<P>“I think,” replied M. de Tregars coldly, “that M. de Thaller would +not be sorry to deprive me of the right to seek the causes of my +father's ruin.” +</P> +<P>But he was interrupted by a great noise of voices in the adjoining +room; and almost at once there was a loud knock at the door, and a +voice called, +</P> +<P>“In the name of the law!” +</P> +<P>The editor of “The Pilot” had become whiter than his shirt. +</P> +<P>“That's what I was afraid of,” he said. “Thaller has got ahead of +me; and perhaps I may be lost.” +</P> +<P>Meantime he did not lose his wits. Quick as thought he took out of +a drawer a package of letters, threw them into the fireplace, and +set fire to them, saying, in a voice made hoarse by emotion and +anger, +</P> +<P>“No one shall come in until they are burnt.” +</P> +<P>But it required an incredibly long time to make them catch fire; +and M. Saint Pavin, kneeling before the hearth, was stirring them +up, and scattering them, to make them burn faster. +</P> +<P>“And now,” said M. de Tregars, “will you hesitate to deliver up +the Baron de Thaller into the hands of justice?” +</P> +<P>He turned around with flashing eyes. +</P> +<P>“Now,” he replied, “if I wish to save myself, I must save him too. +Don't you understand that he holds me?” +</P> +<P>And, seeing that the last sheets of his correspondence were consumed, +</P> +<P>“You may open now,” he said to Maxence. +</P> +<P>Maxence obeyed; and a commissary of police, wearing his scarf of +office, rushed into the room; whilst his men, not without difficulty, +kept back the crowd in the outer office. +</P> +<P>The commissary, who was an old hand, and had perhaps been on a +hundred expeditions of this kind, had surveyed the scene at a +glance. Noticing in the fireplace the carbonized debris, upon +which still fluttered an expiring flame, +</P> +<P>“That's the reason, then,” he said, “why you were so long opening +the door?” +</P> +<P>A sarcastic smile appeared upon the lips of the editor of “The Pilot.” +</P> +<P>“Private matters,” he replied; “women's letters.” +</P> +<P>“This will be moral evidence against you, sir.” +</P> +<P>“I prefer it to material evidence.” +</P> +<P>Without condescending to notice the impertinence, the commissary +was casting a suspicious glance on Maxence and M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>“Who are these gentlemen who were closeted with you?” he asked. +</P> +<P>“Visitors, sir. This is M. Favoral.” +</P> +<P>“The son of the cashier of the Mutual Credit?” +</P> +<P>“Exactly; and this gentleman is the Marquis de Tregars.” +</P> +<P>“You should have opened the door when you heard a knocking in the +name of the law,” grumbled the commissary. +</P> +<P>But he did not insist. Taking a paper from his pocket, he opened +it, and, handing it to M. Saint Pavin, +</P> +<P>“I have orders to arrest you,” he said. “Here is the warrant.” +</P> +<P>With a careless gesture, the other pushed it back. “What's the use +of reading?” he said. “When I heard of the arrest of that poor +Jottras, I guessed at once what was in store for me. It is about +the Mutual Credit swindle, I imagine.” +</P> +<P>“Exactly.” +</P> +<P>“I have no more to do with it than yourself, sir; and I shall have +very little trouble in proving it. But that is not your business. +And you are going, I suppose, to put the seals on my papers?” +</P> +<P>“Except on those that you have burnt.” +</P> +<P>M. Saint Pavin burst out laughing. He had recovered his coolness +and his impudence, and seemed as much at ease as if it were the +most natural thing in the world. +</P> +<P>“Shall I be allowed to speak to my clerks,” he asked, “and to give +them my instructions?” +</P> +<P>“Yes,” replied the commissary, “but in my presence.” +</P> +<P>The clerks, being called, appeared, consternation depicted upon +their countenances, but joy sparkling in their eyes. In reality +they were delighted at the misfortune which befell their employer. +</P> +<P>“You see what happens to me, my boys,” he said. “But don't be +uneasy. In less than forty-eight hours, the error of which I am +the victim will be recognized, and I shall be liberated on bail. +At any rate, I can rely upon you, can't I?” +</P> +<P>They all swore that they would be more attentive and more zealous +than ever. +</P> +<P>And then addressing himself to his cashier, who was his +confidential and right-hand man, +</P> +<P>“As to you, Bernard,” he said, “you will run to M. de Thaller's, +and advise him of what's going on. Let him have funds ready; for +all our depositors will want to draw out their money at once. You +will then call at the printing-office: have my article on the +Mutual Credit kept out, and insert in its place some financial news +cut out from other papers. Above all, don't mention my arrest, +unless M. de Thaller should demand it. Go ahead, and let ‘The +Pilot’ appear as usual: that's important.” +</P> +<P>He had, whilst speaking, lighted a cigar. The honest man, victim +of human iniquity, has not a firmer and more tranquil countenance. +</P> +<P>“Justice does not know,” he said to the commissary, who was fumbling +in all the drawers of the desk, “what irreparable damage she may +cause by arresting so hastily a man who has charge of immense +interests like me. It is the fortune of ten or twelve small +capitalists that is put in jeopardy.” +</P> +<P>Already the witnesses of the arrest had retired, one by one, to go +and scatter the news along the Boulevard, and also to see what +could be made out of it; for, at the bourse, news is money. +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars and Maxence left also. As they passed the door, +</P> +<P>“Don't you say any thing about what I told you,” M. Saint Pavin +recommended to them. +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars made no answer. He had the contracted features and +tightly-drawn lips of a man who is maturing a grave determination, +which, once taken, will be irrevocable. +</P> +<P>Once in the street, and when Maxence had opened the carriage-door, +</P> +<P>“We are going to separate here,” he told him in that brief tone of +voice which reveals a settled plan. “I know enough now to venture +to call at M. de Thaller's. There only shall I be able to see how +to strike the decisive blow. Return to the Rue St. Gilles, and +relieve your mother's and sister's anxiety. You shall see me during +the evening, I promise you.” +</P> +<P>And, without waiting for an answer, he jumped into the cab, which +started off. +</P> +<P>But it was not to the Rue St. Gilles that Maxence went. He was +anxious, first, to see Mlle. Lucienne, to tell her the events of +that day, the busiest of his existence; to tell her his discoveries, +his surprises, his anxieties, and his hopes. +</P> +<P>To his great surprise, he failed to find her at the Hotel des +Folies. She had gone riding at three o'clock, M. Fortin told him, +and had not yet returned; but she could not be much longer, as it +was already getting dark. Maxence went out again then, to see if +he could not meet her. He had walked a little way along the +Boulevard, when, at some distance off, on the Place du Chateau +d'Eau, he thought he noticed an unusual bustle. Almost +immediately he heard shouts of terror. Frightened people were +running in all directions; and right before him a carriage, going +at full gallop, passed like a flash. +</P> +<P>But, quick as it had passed, he had time to recognize Mlle. +Lucienne, pale, and clinging desperately to the seat. Wild with +fear, he started after it as fast as he could run. It was clear +that the driver had no control over his horses. A policeman who +tried to stop them was knocked down. Ten steps farther, the +hind-wheel of the carriage, catching the wheel of a heavy wagon, +broke to splinters; and Mlle. Lucienne was thrown into the street, +whilst the driver fell over on the sidewalk. +</P> + + +<H2>VI + +</H2><P>The Baron de Thaller was too practical a man to live in the same +house, or even in the same district, where his offices were +located. To dwell in the midst of his business; to be constantly +subjected to the contact of his employes, to the unkindly comments +of a crowd of subordinates; to expose himself to hourly annoyances, +to sickening solicitations, to the reclamations and eternal +complaints of his stockholders and his clients! Pouah! He'd have +given up the business first. And so, on the very days when he had +established the offices of the Mutual Credit in the Rue de +Quatre-Septembre, he had purchased a house in the Rue de la +Pepiniere within a step of the Faubourg St. Honore. +</P> +<P>It was a brand-new house, which had never yet been occupied, and +which had just been erected by a contractor who was almost +celebrated, towards 1866, at the moment of the great transformations +of Paris, when whole blocks were leveled to the ground, and rose +again so rapidly, that one might well wonder whether the masons, +instead of a trowel, did not make use of a magician's wand. +</P> +<P>This contractor, named Parcimieux, had come from the Limousin in +1860 with his carpenter's tools for all fortune, and, in less than +six years, had accumulated, at the lowest estimate, six millions +of francs. Only he was a modest man, and took as much pains to +conceal his fortune, and offend no one, as most <I>parvenus</I> do to +display their wealth, and insult the public. +</P> +<P>Though he could hardly sign his name, yet he knew and practised +the maxim of the Greek philosopher, which is, perhaps, the true +secret of happiness,—hide thy life. And there were no expedients +to which he did not resort to hide it. At the time of his greatest +prosperity, for instance, having need of a carriage, he had applied +to the manager of the Petites Voitures Company, and had had built +for himself two cabs, outwardly similar in every respect to those +used by the company, but within, most luxuriously upholstered, and +drawn by horses of common appearance, but who could go their +twenty-five miles in two hours any day. And these he had hired by +the year. +</P> +<P>Having his carriage, the worthy builder determined to have, also, +his house, his own house, built by himself. But this required +infinitely greater precautions still. +</P> +<P>“For, as you may imagine,” he explained to his friends, “a man does +not make as much money as I have, without also making many cruel, +bitter, and irreconcilable enemies. I have against me all the +builders who have not succeeded, all the sub-contractors I employ, +and who say that I speculate on their poverty, and the thousands of +workmen who work for me, and swear that I grind them down to the +dust. Already they call me brigand, slaver, thief, leech. What +would it be, if they saw me living in a beautiful house of my own? +They'd swear that I could not possibly have got so rich honestly, +and that I must have committed some crimes. Besides, to build me +a handsome house on the street would be, in case of a mob, setting +up windows for the stones of all the rascals who have been in my +employment.” +</P> +<P>Such were M. Parcimieux's thoughts, when, as he expressed it, he +resolved to build. +</P> +<P>A lot was for sale in the Rue de la Pepiniere. He bought it, and +at the same time purchased the adjoining house, which he +immediately caused to be torn down. This operation placed in his +possession a vast piece of ground, not very wide, but of great +depth, stretching, as it did, back to the Rue Labaume. At once +work was begun according to a plan which his architect and himself +had spent six months in maturing. On the line of the street arose +a house of the most modest appearance, two stories in height only, +with a very high and very wide carriage-door for the passage of +vehicles. This was to deceive the vulgar eye,—the outside of the +cab, as it were. Behind this house, between a spacious court and a +vast garden was built the residence of which M. Parcimieux had +dreamed; and it really was an exceptional building both by the +excellence of the materials used, and by the infinite care which +presided over the minutest details. The marbles for the vestibule +and the stairs were brought from Africa, Italy, and Corsica. He +sent to Rome for workmen for the mosaics. The joiner and +locksmithing work was intrusted to real artists. +</P> +<P>Repeating to every one that he was working for a great foreign lord, +whose orders he went to take every morning, he was free to indulge +his most extravagant fancies, without fearing jests or unpleasant +remarks. +</P> +<P>Poor old man! The day when the last workman had driven in the +last nail, an attack of apoplexy carried him off, without giving +him time to say, “Oh!” Two days after, all his relatives from the +Limousin were swooping into Paris like a pack of wolves. Six +millions to divide: what a godsend! Litigation followed, as a +matter of course; and the house was offered for sale under a +judgment. +</P> +<P>M. de Thaller bought it for two hundred and seventy-five thousand +francs,—about one-third what it had cost to build. +</P> +<P>A month later he had moved into it; and the expenses which he +incurred to furnish it in a style worthy of the building itself +was the talk of the town. And yet he was not fully satisfied +with his purchase. +</P> +<P>Unlike M. Parcimieux, he had no wish whatever to conceal his wealth. +</P> +<P>What! he owned one of those exquisite houses which excite at once +the wonder and the envy of passers-by, and that house was hid +behind such a common-looking building! +</P> +<P>“I must have that shanty pulled down,” he said from time to time. +</P> +<P>And then he thought of something else; and the “shanty” was still +standing on that evening, when, after leaving Maxence, M. de +Tregars presented himself at M. de Thaller's. +</P> +<P>The servants had, doubtless, received their instructions; for, as +soon as Marius emerged from the porch of the front-house, the +porter advanced from his lodge, bent double, his mouth open to his +very ears by the most obsequious smile. +</P> +<P>Without waiting for a question, +</P> +<P>“The baron has not yet come home—,” he said. “But he cannot be +much longer away; and certainly the baroness is at home for my +lord-marquis. Please, then, give yourself the trouble to pass.” +</P> +<P>And, standing aside, he struck upon the enormous gong that stood +near his lodge a single sharp blow, intended to wake up the +footman on duty in the vestibule, and to announce a visitor of +note. Slowly, but not without quietly observing every thing, M. +de Tregars crossed the courtyard, covered with fine sand,—they +would have powdered it with golden dust, if they had dared,—and +surrounded on all sides with bronze baskets, in which beautiful +rhododendrons were blossoming. +</P> +<P>It was nearly six o'clock. The manager of the Mutual Credit dined +at seven; and the preparations for this important event were +everywhere apparent. Through the large windows of the dining-room +the steward could be seen presiding over the setting of the table. +The butler was coming up from the cellar, loaded with bottles. +Finally, through the apertures of the basement arose the appetizing +perfumes of the kitchen. +</P> +<P>What enormous business it required to support such a style, to +display this luxury, which would shame one of those German +princelings, who exchanged the crown of their ancestors for a +Prussian livery gilded with French gold!—other people's money. +</P> +<P>Meantime, the blow struck by the porter on the gong had produced +the desired effect; and the gates of the vestibule seemed to open +of their own accord before M. de Tregars as he ascended the stoop. +</P> +<P>This vestibule with the splendor of which Mlle. Lucienne had been +so deeply impressed, would, indeed, have been worthy the attention +of an artist, had it been allowed to retain the simple grandeur +and the severe harmony which M. Parcimieux's architect had imparted +to it. +</P> +<P>But M. de Thaller, as he was proud of boasting, had a perfect horror +of simplicity; and, wherever he discovered a vacant space as big as +his hand, he hung a picture, a bronze, or a piece of china, any +thing and anyhow. +</P> +<P>The two footmen were standing when M. de Tregars came in. Without +asking any question, “Will M. le Marquis please follow me?” said +the youngest. +</P> +<P>And, opening the broad glass doors, he began walking in front of +M. de Tregars, along a staircase with marble railing, the elegant +proportions of which were absolutely ruined by a ridiculous +profusion of “objects of art” of all nature, and from all sources. +This staircase led to a vast semicircular landing, upon which, +between columns of precious marble, opened three wide doors. The +footman opened the middle one, which led to M. de Thaller's +picture-gallery, a celebrated one in the financial world, and +which had acquired for him the reputation of an enlightened amateur. +</P> +<P>But M. de Tregars had no time to examine this gallery, which, +moreover, he already knew well enough. The footman showed him +into the small drawing-room of the baroness, a bijou of a room, +furnished in gilt and crimson satin. +</P> +<P>“Will M. le Marquis be kind enough to take a seat?” he said. “I +run to notify Mme. le Baronne of M. le Marquis's visit.” +</P> +<P>The footman uttered these titles of nobility with a singular pomp, +and as if some of their lustre was reflected upon himself. +Nevertheless, it was evident that “Marquis” jingled to his ear much +more pleasantly than “Baronne.” +</P> +<P>Remaining alone, M. de Tregars threw himself upon a seat. Worn out +by the emotions of the day, and by an extraordinary contention of +mind, he felt thankful for this moment of respite, which permitted +him, at the moment of a decisive step, to collect all his energy +and all his presence of mind. +</P> +<P>And after two minutes he was so deeply absorbed in his thoughts, +that he started, like a man suddenly aroused from his sleep, at +the sound of an opening door. At the same moment he heard a slight +exclamation of surprise, “Ah!” +</P> +<P>Instead of the Baroness de Thaller, it was her daughter, Mlle. +Cesarine, who had come in. +</P> +<P>Stepping forward to the centre of the room, and acknowledging by a +familiar gesture M. de Tregars' most respectful bow, +</P> +<P>“You should warn people,” she said. “I came here to look for my +mother, and it is you I find. Why, you scared me to death. What +a crack! Princess dear!” +</P> +<P>And taking the young man's hand, and pressing it to her breast, +</P> +<P>“Feel,” she added, “how my heart beats.” +</P> +<P>Younger than Mlle. Gilberte, Mlle. Cesarine de Thaller had a +reputation for beauty so thoroughly established, that to call it +in question would have seemed a crime to her numerous admirers. +And really she was a handsome person. Rather tall and well made, +she had broad hips, the waist round and supple as a steel rod, +and a magnificent throat. Her neck was, perhaps, a little too +thick and too short; but upon her robust shoulders was scattered +in wild ringlets the rebellious hair that escaped from her comb. +She was a blonde, but of that reddish blonde, almost as dark as +mahogany, which Titian admired, and which the handsome Venetians +obtained by means of rather repulsive practices, and by exposing +themselves to the noonday sun on the terraces of their palaces. +Her complexion had the gilded hues of amber. Her lips, red as +blood, displayed as they opened, teeth of dazzling whiteness. In +her large prominent eyes, of a milky blue, like the Northern skies, +laughed the eternal irony of a soul that no longer has faith in +any thing. More anxious of her fame than of good taste, she wore +a dress of doubtful shade, puffed up by means of an extravagant +pannier, and buttoned obliquely across the chest, according to +that ridiculous and ungraceful style invented by flat or humped +women. +</P> +<P>Throwing herself upon a chair, and placing cavalierly one foot +upon another, so as to display her leg, which was admirable, +</P> +<P>“Do you know that it's perfectly stunning to see you here?” she +said to M. de Tregars. “Just imagine, for a moment, what a face +the Baron Three Francs Sixty-eight will make when he sees you!” +</P> +<P>It was her father whom she called thus, since the day when she had +discovered that there was a German coin called thaler, which +represents three francs and sixty-eight centimes in French currency. +</P> +<P>“You know, I suppose,” she went on, “that papa has just been badly +stuck?” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars was excusing himself in vague terms; but it was one +of Mlle. Cesarine's habits never to listen to the answers which +were made to her questions. +</P> +<P>“Favoral,” she continued, “papa's cashier, has just started on an +international picnic. Did you know him?” +</P> +<P>“Very little.” +</P> +<P>“An old fellow, always dressed like a country sexton, and with a +face like an undertaker. And the Baron Three Francs Sixty-eight, +an old bird, was fool enough to be taken in by him! For he was +taken in. He had a face like a man whose chimney is on fire, when +he came to tell us, mamma and myself, that Favoral had gone off +with twelve millions.” +</P> +<P>“And has he really carried off that enormous sum?” +</P> +<P>“Not entire, of course, because it was not since day before +yesterday only that he began digging into the Mutual Credit's pile. +There were years that this venerable old swell was leading a +somewhat-variegated existence, in company with rather-funny ladies, +you know. And as he was not exactly calculated to be adored at par, +why, it cost papa's stockholders a pretty lively premium. But, +anyhow, he must have carried off a handsome nugget.” +</P> +<P>And, bouncing to the piano, she began an accompaniment loud enough +to crack the window-panes, singing at the same time the popular +refrain of the “Young Ladies of Pautin”: +</P> +<BLOCKQUOTE> Cashier, you've got the bag; +<BR> Quick on your little nag, +<BR> And then, ho, ho, for Belgium! +</BLOCKQUOTE> +<P>Any one but Marius de Tregars would have been doubtless strangely +surprised at Mlle. de Thaller's manners. But he had known her for +some time already: he was familiar with her past life, her habits, +her tastes, and her pretensions. Until the age of fifteen, Mlle. +Cesarine had remained shut up in one of those pleasant Parisian +boarding-schools, where young ladies are initiated into the great +art of the toilet, and from which they emerge armed with the +gayest theories, knowing how to see without seeming to look, and +to lie boldly without blushing; in a word, ripe for society. The +directress of the boarding-school, a lady of the ton, who had met +with reverses, and who was a good deal more of a dressmaker than +a teacher, said of Mlle. Cesarine, who paid her three thousand +five hundred francs a year, +</P> +<P>“She gives the greatest hopes for the future; and I shall certainly +make a superior woman of her.” +</P> +<P>But the opportunity was not allowed her. The Baroness de Thaller +discovered, one morning, that it was impossible for her to live +without her daughter, and that her maternal heart was lacerated by +a separation which was against the sacred laws of nature. She took +her home, therefore, declaring that nothing, henceforth, not even +her marriage, should separate them, and that she should finish +herself the education of the dear child. From that moment, in fact, +whoever saw the Baroness de Thaller would also see Mlle. Cesarine +following in her wake. +</P> +<P>A girl of fifteen, discreet and well-trained, is a convenient +chaperon; a chaperon which enables a woman to show herself boldly +where she might not have dared to venture alone. In presence of +a mother followed by her daughter, disconcerted slander hesitates, +and dares not speak. +</P> +<P>Under the pretext that Cesarine was still but a child and of no +consequence, Mme. de Thaller dragged her everywhere,—to the bois +and to the races, visiting and shopping, to balls and parties, to +the watering-places and the seashore, to the restaurant, and to +all the “first nights” at the Palais Royal, the Bouffes, the +Varietes, and the Delassements. It was, therefore, especially at +the theatre, that the education of Mlle. de Thaller, so happily +commenced, had received the finishing touch. At sixteen she was +thoroughly familiar with the repertoire of the genre theatres, +imitated Schneider far better than ever did Silly, and sang with +surprising intonations and astonishing gestures Blanche d'Autigny's +successful moods, and Theresa's most wanton verses. +</P> +<P>Between times, she studied the fashion papers, and formed her +style in reading the “Vie Parisienne,” whose most enigmatic articles +had no allusions sufficiently obscure to escape her penetration. +</P> +<P>She learned to ride on horseback, to fence and to shoot, and +distinguished herself at pigeon-matches. She kept a betting-book, +played Trente et Quarante at Monaco; and Baccarat had no secrets +for her. At Trouville she astonished the natives with the startling +novelty of her bathing-costumes; and, when she found herself the +centre of a reasonable circle of lookers-on, she threw herself in +the water with a pluck that drew upon her the applause of the +bathing-masters. She could smoke a cigarette, empty nearly a glass +of champagne; and once her mother was obliged to bring her home, +and put her quick to bed, because she had insisted upon trying +absinthe, and her conversation had become somewhat too eccentric. +</P> +<P>Leading such a life, it was difficult that public opinion should +always spare Mme. and Mlle. de Thaller. There were sceptics who +insinuated that this steadfast friendship between mother and daughter +had very much the appearance of the association of two women bound +together by the complicity of a common secret. A broker told how, +one evening, or one night rather, for it was nearly two o'clock, +happening to pass in front of the Moulin-Rouge, he had seen the +Baroness and Mlle. Cesarine coming out, accompanied by a gentleman, +to him unknown, but who, he was quite sure, was not the Baron de +Thaller. +</P> +<P>A certain journey which mother and daughter had undertaken in the +heart of the winter, and which had lasted not less than two months, +had been generally attributed to an imprudence, the consequences +of which it had become impossible to conceal. They had been in +Italy, they said when they returned; but no one had seen them +there. Yet, as Mme. and Mlle. de Thaller's mode of life was, after +all, the same as that of a great many women who passed for being +perfectly proper, as there was no positive or palpable fact brought +against them, as no name was mentioned, many people shrugged their +shoulders, and replied, +</P> +<P>“Pure slanders.” +</P> +<P>And why not, since the Baron de Thaller, the most interested party, +held himself satisfied? +</P> +<P>To the ill-advised friends who ventured some allusions to the public +rumors, he replied, according to his humor, +</P> +<P>“My daughter can play the mischief generally, if she sees fit. As +I shall give a dowry of a million, she will always find a husband.” +</P> +<P>Or else, “And what of it? Do not American young ladies enjoy +unlimited freedom? Are they not constantly seen going out with +young gentlemen, or walking or traveling alone? Are they, for all +that, less virtuous than our girls, who are kept under such close +watch? Do they make less faithful wives, or less excellent mothers? +Hypocrisy is not virtue.” +</P> +<P>To a certain extent, the Manager of the Mutual Credit was right. +</P> +<P>Already Mlle. de Thaller had had to decide upon several quite +suitable offers of marriage and she had squarely refused them all. +</P> +<P>“A husband!” she had answered each time. “Thank you, none for me. +I have good enough teeth to eat up my dowry myself. Later, we'll +see,—when I've cut my wisdom teeth, and I am tired of my bachelor +life.” +</P> +<P>She did not seem near getting tired of it, though she pretended +that she had no more illusions, was thoroughly blasee, had +exhausted every sensation, and that life henceforth had no surprise +in reserve for her. Her reception of M. de Tregars was, therefore, +one of Mlle. Cesarine's least eccentricities, as was also that +sudden fancy; to apply to the situation one of the most idiotic +rondos of her repertoires: +</P> +<BLOCKQUOTE> “Cashier, you've got the bag; +<BR> Quick on your little nag” +</BLOCKQUOTE> +<P>Neither did she spare him a single verse: and, when she stopped, +</P> +<P>“I see with pleasure,” said M. de Tregars, “that the embezzlement +of which your father has just been the victim does not in any way +offend your good humor.” +</P> +<P>She shrugged her shoulders. +</P> +<P>“Would you have me cry,” she said, “because the stockholders of the +Baron Three Francs Sixty-eight have been swindled? Console +yourself: they are accustomed to it.” +</P> +<P>And, as M. de Tregars made no answer, +</P> +<P>“And in all that,” she went on, “I see no one to pity except the +wife and daughter of that old stick Favoral.” +</P> +<P>“They are, indeed, much to be pitied.” +</P> +<P>“They say that the mother is a good old thing.” +</P> +<P>“She is an excellent person.” +</P> +<P>“And the daughter? Costeclar was crazy about her once. He made +eyes like a carp in love, as he told us, to mamma and myself, +‘She is an angel, mesdames, an angel! And when I have given her a +little chic!’ Now tell me, is she really as good looking as all +that?” +</P> +<P>“She is quite good looking.” +</P> +<P>“Better looking than me?” +</P> +<P>“It is not the same style, mademoiselle.” +</P> +<P>Mlle. de Thaller had stopped singing; but she had not left the +piano. Half turned towards M. de Tregars, she ran her fingers +listlessly over the keys, striking a note here and there, as if to +punctuate her sentences. +</P> +<P>“Ah, how nice!” she exclaimed, “and, above all, how gallant! +Really, if you venture often on such declarations, mothers would be +very wrong to trust you alone with their daughters.” +</P> +<P>“You did not understand me right, mademoiselle.” +</P> +<P>“Perfectly right, on the contrary. I asked you if I was better +looking than Mlle. Favoral; and you replied to me, that it was not +the same style.” +</P> +<P>“It is because, mademoiselle, there is indeed no possible comparison +between you, who are a wealthy heiress, and whose life is a +perpetual enchantment, and a poor girl, very humble, and very modest, +who rides in the omnibus, and who makes her dresses herself.” +</P> +<P>A contemptuous smile contracted Mlle. Cesarine's lips. +</P> +<P>“Why not?” she interrupted. “Men have such funny tastes!” +</P> +<P>And, turning around suddenly, she began another rondo, no less +famous than the first, and borrowed, this time, from the third act +of the Petites-Blanchisseuses: +</P> +<BLOCKQUOTE> “What matters the quality? +<BR> Beauty alone takes the prize +<BR> Women before man must rise, +<BR> And claim perfect equality.” +</BLOCKQUOTE> +<P>Very attentively M. de Tregars was observing her. He had not been +the dupe of the great surprise she had manifested when she found +him in the little parlor. +</P> +<P>“She knew I was here,” he thought; “and it is her mother who has +sent her to me. But why? and for what purpose?” +</P> +<P>“With all that,” she resumed, “I see the sweet Mme. Favoral and her +modest daughter in a terribly tight place. What a ‘bust,’ marquis!” +</P> +<P>“They have a great deal of courage, mademoiselle.” +</P> +<P>“Naturally. But, what is better, the daughter has a splendid voice: +at least, so her professor told Costeclar. Why should she not go on +the stage? Actresses make lots of money, you know. Papa'll help +her, if she wishes. He has a great deal of influence in the +theatres, papa has.” +</P> +<P>“Mme. and Mlle. Favoral have friends.” +</P> +<P>“Ah, yes! Costeclar.” +</P> +<P>“Others besides.” +</P> +<P>“I beg your pardon; but it seems to me that this one will do to +begin with. He is gallant, Costeclar, extremely gallant, and, +moreover, generous as a lord. Why should he not offer to that +youthful and timid damsel a nice little position in mahogany and +rosewood? That way, we should have the pleasure of meeting her +around the lake.” +</P> +<P>And she began singing again, with a slight variation, +</P> +<BLOCKQUOTE> “Manon, who, before the war, +<BR> Carried clothes for a living, +<BR> Now for her gains is trusting +<BR> To that insane Costeclar.” +</BLOCKQUOTE> +<P>“Ah, that big red-headed girl is terribly provoking!” thought M. +de Tregars. +</P> +<P>But, as he did not as yet understand very clearly what she wished +to come to, he kept on his guard, and remained cold as marble. +</P> +<P>Already she had again turned towards him. +</P> +<P>“What a face you are making!” she said. “Are you jealous of the +fiery Costeclar, by chance?” +</P> +<P>“No, mademoiselle, no!” +</P> +<P>“Then, why don't you want him to succeed in his love? But he will, +you'll see! Five hundred francs on Costeclar! Do you take it? +No? I am sorry. It's twenty-five napoleons lost for me. I know +very well that Mlle.—what's her name?” +</P> +<P>“Gilberte.” +</P> +<P>“Hallo! a nice name for a cashier's daughter! I am aware that she +once sent that poor Costeclar and his offer to—Chaillot. But she +had resources then; whilst now—It's stupid as it can be; but +people have to eat!” +</P> +<P>“There are still women, mademoiselle, capable of starving to death.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars now felt satisfied. It seemed evident to him that +they had somehow got wind of his intentions; that Mlle. de Thaller +had been sent to feel the ground; and that she only attacked Mlle. +Gilberte in order to irritate him, and compel him, in a moment of +anger, to declare himself. +</P> +<P>“Bash!” she said, “Mlle. Favoral is like all the others. If she +had to select between the amiable Costeclar and a charcoal furnace, +it is not the furnace she would take.” +</P> +<P>At all times, Marius de Tregars disliked Mlle. Cesarine to a supreme +degree; but at this moment, without the pressing desire he had to +see the Baron and Baroness de Thaller, he would have withdrawn. +</P> +<P>“Believe me, mademoiselle,” he uttered coldly. “Spare a poor girl +stricken by a most cruel misfortune. Worse might happen to you.” +</P> +<P>“To me! And what the mischief do you suppose can happen me?” +</P> +<P>“Who knows?” +</P> +<P>She started to her feet so violently, that she upset the piano-stool. +</P> +<P>“Whatever it may be,” she exclaimed, “I say in advance, I am glad!” +</P> +<P>And as M. de Tregars turned his head in some surprise, +</P> +<P>“Yes, I am glad!” she repeated, “because it would be a change; and +I am sick of the life I lead. Yes, sick to be eternally and +invariably happy of that same dreary happiness. And to think that +there are idiots who believe that I amuse myself, and who envy my +fate! To think, that, when I ride through the streets, I hear girls +exclaim, whilst looking at me, ‘Isn't she lucky?’ Little fools! +I'd like to see them in my place. They live, they do. Their +pleasures are not all alike. They have anxieties and hopes, ups +and downs, hours of rain and hours of sunshine; whilst I—always +dead calm! the barometer always at ‘Set fair.’ What a bore! Do +you know what I did to-day? Exactly the same thing as yesterday; +and to-morrow I'll do the same thing as to-day. +</P> +<P>“A good dinner is a good thing; but always the same dinner, without +extras or additions—pouah! Too many truffles. I want some +corned beef and cabbage. I know the bill of fare by heart, you see. +In winter, theatres and balls; in summer, races and the seashore; +summer and winter, shopping, rides to the bois, calls, trying +dresses, perpetual adoration by mother's friends, all of them +brilliant and gallant fellows to whom the mere thought of my dowry +gives the jaundice. Excuse me, if I yawn: I am thinking of their +conversations. +</P> +<P>“And to think,” she went on, “that such will be my existence until +I make up my mind to take a husband! For I'll have to come to it +too. The Baron Three Sixty-eight will present to me some sort of +a swell, attracted by my money. I'll answer, ‘I'd just as soon +have him as any other,’ and he will be admitted to the honor of +paying his attentions to me. Every morning he will send me a +splendid bouquet: every evening, after bank-hours, he'll come along +with fresh kid gloves and a white vest. During the afternoon, he +and papa will pull each other's hair out on the subject of the dowry. +At last the happy day will arrive. Can't you see it from here? +Mass with music, dinner, ball. The Baron Three Sixty-eight will +not spare me a single ceremony. The marriage of the manager of the +Mutual Credit must certainly be an advertisement. The papers will +publish the names of the bridesmaids and of the guests. +</P> +<P>“To be sure, papa will have a face a yard long; because he will +have been compelled to pay the dowry the day before. Mamma will +be all upset at the idea of becoming a grandmother. The +bridegroom will be in a wretched humor, because his boots will be +too tight; and I'll look like a goose, because I'll be dressed +in white; and white is a stupid color, which is not at all becoming +to me. Charming family gathering, isn't it? Two weeks later, my +husband will be sick of me, and I'll be disgusted with him. After +a month, we'll be at daggers' points. He'll go back to his club +and his mistresses; and I—I shall have conquered the right to go +out alone; and I'll begin again going to the bois, to balls, to +races, wherever my mother goes. I'll spend an enormous amount of +money on my dress, and I'll make debts which papa will pay.” +</P> +<P>Though any thing might be expected of Mlle. Cesarine, still M. +de Tregars seemed visibly astonished. And she, laughing at his +surprise, +</P> +<P>“That's the invariable programme,” she went on; “and that's why I +say I'm glad at the idea of a change, whatever it may be. You find +fault with me for not pitying Mlle. Gilberte. How could I, since +I envy her? She is happy, because her future is not settled, laid +out, fixed in advance. She is poor; but she is free. She is twenty; +she is pretty; she has an admirable voice; she can go on the stage +to-morrow, and be, before six months, one of the pet actresses of +Paris. What a life then! Ah, that is the one I dream, the one I +would have selected, had I been mistress of my destiny.” +</P> +<P>But she was interrupted by the noise of the opening door. +</P> +<P>The Baroness de Thaller appeared. As she was, immediately after +dinner, to go to the opera, and afterwards to a party given by the +Viscountess de Bois d'Ardon, she was in full dress. She wore a +dress, cut audaciously low in the neck, of very light gray satin, +trimmed with bands of cherry-colored silk edged with lace. In her +hair, worn high over her head, she had a bunch of fuchsias, the +flexible stems of which, fastened by a large diamond star, trailed +down to her very shoulders, white and smooth as marble. +</P> +<P>But, though she forced herself to smile, her countenance was not +that of festive days; and the glance which she cast upon her +daughter and Marius de Tregars was laden with threats. In a voice +of which she tried in vain to control the emotion, +</P> +<P>“How very kind of you, marquis,” she began, “to respond so soon to +my invitation of this morning! I am really distressed to have kept +you waiting; but I was dressing. After what has happened to M. de +Thaller, it is absolutely indispensable that I should go out, show +myself: otherwise our enemies will be going around to-morrow, saying +everywhere that I am in Belgium, preparing lodgings for my husband.” +</P> +<P>And, suddenly changing her tone, +</P> +<P>“But what was that madcap Cesarine telling you?” she asked. +</P> +<P>It was with a profound surprise that M. de Tregars discovered that +the entente cordiale which he suspected between the mother and +daughter did not exist, at least at this moment. +</P> +<P>Veiling under a jesting tone the strange conjectures which the +unexpected discovery aroused within him, +</P> +<P>“Mlle. Cesarine,” he replied, “who is much to be pitied, was telling +me all her troubles.” +</P> +<P>She interrupted him. +</P> +<P>“Do not take the trouble to tell a story, M. le Marquis,” she said. +“Mamma knows it as well as yourself; for she was listening at the door.” +</P> +<P>“Cesarine!” exclaimed Mme. de Thaller. +</P> +<P>“And, if she came in so suddenly, it is because she thought it was +fully time to cut short my confidences.” +</P> +<P>The face of the baroness became crimson. +</P> +<P>“The child is mad!” she said. +</P> +<P>The child burst out laughing. +</P> +<P>“That's my way,” she went on. “You should not have sent me here by +chance, and against my wish. You made me do it: don't complain. +You were sure that I had but to appear, and M. de Tregars would +fall at my feet. I appeared, and—you saw the effect through the +keyhole, didn't you?” +</P> +<P>Her features contracted, her eyes flashing, twisting her lace +handkerchief between her fingers loaded with rings, +</P> +<P>“It is unheard of,” said Mme. de Thaller. “She has certainly lost +her head.” +</P> +<P>Dropping her mother an ironical courtesy, +</P> +<P>“Thanks for the compliment!” said the young lady. “Unfortunately, +I never was more completely in possession of all the good sense I +may boast of than I am now, dear mamma. What were you telling me +a moment since? ‘Run, the Marquis de Tregars is coming to ask +your hand: it's all settled.’ And what did I answer? ‘No use to +trouble myself: if, instead of one million, papa were to give me +two, four millions, indeed all the millions paid by France to +Prussia, M. de Tregars would not have me for a wife.’” +</P> +<P>And, looking Marius straight in the face, +</P> +<P>“Am I not right, M. le Marquis?” she asked. “And isn't it a fact +that you wouldn't have me at any price? Come, now, your hand upon +your heart, answer.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars' situation was somewhat embarrassing between these +two women, whose anger was equal, though it manifested itself in +a different way. Evidently it was a discussion begun before, which +was now continued in his presence. +</P> +<P>“I think, mademoiselle,” he began, “that you have been slandering +yourself gratuitously.” +</P> +<P>“Oh, no! I swear it to you,” she replied; “and, if mamma had not +happened in, you would have heard much more. But that was not an +answer.” +</P> +<P>And, as M. de Tregars said nothing, she turned towards the baroness, +</P> +<P>“Ah, ah! you see,” she said. “Who was crazy,—you, or I? Ah! +you imagine here that money is everything, that every thing is for +sale, and that every thing can be bought. Well, no! There are +still men, who, for all the gold in the world, would not give their +name to Cesarine de Thaller. It is strange; but it is so, dear +mamma, and we must make up our mind to it.” +</P> +<P>Then turning towards Marius, and bearing upon each syllable, as if +afraid that the allusion might escape him, +</P> +<P>“The men of whom I speak,” she added, “marry the girls who can +starve to death.” +</P> +<P>Knowing her daughter well enough to be aware that she could not +impose silence upon her, the Baroness de Thaller had dropped upon +a chair. She was trying hard to appear indifferent to what her +daughter was saying; but at every moment a threatening gesture, or +a hoarse exclamation, betrayed the storm that raged within her. +</P> +<P>“Go on, poor foolish child!” she said,—“go on!” +</P> +<P>And she did go on. +</P> +<P>“Finally, were M. de Tregars willing to have me, I would refuse +him myself, because, then—” +</P> +<P>A fugitive blush colored her cheeks, her bold eyes vacillated, and, +dropping her voice, +</P> +<P>“Because, then,” she added, “he would no longer be what he is; +because I feel that fatally I shall despise the husband whom papa +will buy for me. And, if I came here to expose myself to an affront +which I foresaw, it is because I wanted to make sure of a fact of +which a word of Costeclar, a few days ago, had given me an idea, +—of a fact which you do not, perhaps, suspect, dear mother, despite +your astonishing perspicacity. I wanted to find out M. de Tregars' +secret; and I have found it out.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars had come to the Thaller mansion with a plan well +settled in advance. He had pondered long before deciding what he +would do, and what he would say, and how he would begin the decisive +struggle. What had taken place showed him the idleness of his +conjectures, and, as a natural consequence, upset his plans. To +abandon himself to the chances of the hour, and to make the best +possible use of them, was now the wisest thing to do. +</P> +<P>“Give me credit, mademoiselle,” he uttered, “for sufficient +penetration to have perfectly well discerned your intentions. +There was no need of artifice, because I have nothing to conceal. +You had but to question me, I would have answered you frankly, +‘Yes, it is true I love Mlle. Gilberte; and before a month she +will be Marquise de Tregars.’” +</P> +<P>Mme. de Thaller, at those words, had started to her feet, pushing +back her arm-chair so violently, that it rolled all the way to the +wall. +</P> +<P>“What!” she exclaimed, “you marry Gilberte Favoral,—you!” +</P> +<P>“I—yes.” +</P> +<P>“The daughter of a defaulting cashier, a dishonored man whom justice +pursues and the galleys await!” +</P> +<P>“Yes!” And in an accent that caused a shiver to run over the white +shoulders of Mme. de Thaller, +</P> +<P>“Whatever may have been,” he uttered, “Vincent Favoral's crime; +whether he has or has not stolen, the twelve millions which are +wanting from the funds of the Mutual Credit; whether he is alone +guilty, or has accomplices; whether he be a knave, or a fool, an +impostor, or a dupe,—Mlle. Gilberte is not responsible.” +</P> +<P>“You know the Favoral family, then?” +</P> +<P>“Enough to make their cause henceforth my own.” +</P> +<P>The agitation of the baroness was so great, that she did not even +attempt to conceal it. +</P> +<P>“A nobody's daughter!” she said. +</P> +<P>“I love her.” +</P> +<P>“Without a sou!” +</P> +<P>Mlle. Cesarine made a superb gesture. +</P> +<P>“Why, that's the very reason why a man may marry her!” she exclaimed, +and, holding out her hand to M. de Tregars, +</P> +<P>“What you do here is well,” she added, “very well.” +</P> +<P>There was a wild look in the eyes of the baroness. +</P> +<P>“Mad, unhappy child!” she exclaimed. “If your father should hear!” +</P> +<P>“And who, then, would report our conversation to him? M. de Tregars? +He would not do such a thing. You? You dare not.” +</P> +<P>Drawing herself up to her fullest height, her breast swelling with +anger, her head thrown back, her eyes flashing, +</P> +<P>“Cesarine,” ordered Mme. de Thaller, her arm extended towards the +door—“Cesarine, leave the room; I command you.” +</P> +<P>But motionless in her place the girl cast upon her mother a look +of defiance. +</P> +<P>“Come, calm yourself,” she said in a tone of crushing irony, “or +you'll spoil your complexion for the rest of the evening. Do I +complain? do I get excited? And yet whose fault is it, if honor +makes it a duty for me to cry ‘Beware!’ to an honest man who wishes +to marry me? That Gilberte should get married: that she should +be very happy, have many children, darn her husband's stockings, +and skim her <I>pot-au-feu</I>,—that is her part in life. Ours, dear +mother,—that which you have taught me—is to laugh and have fun, +all the time, night and day, till death.” +</P> +<P>A footman who came in interrupted her. Handing a card to Mme. de +Thaller, +</P> +<P>“The gentleman who gave it to me,” he said, “is in the large parlor.” +</P> +<P>The baroness had become very pale. +</P> +<P>“Oh!” she said turning the card between her fingers,—“oh!” +</P> +<P>Then suddenly she ran out exclaiming, +</P> +<P>“I'll be back directly.” +</P> +<P>An embarrassing, painful silence followed, as it was inevitable that +it would, the Baroness de Thaller's precipitate departure. +</P> +<P>Mlle. Cesarine had approached the mantel-piece. She was leaning +her elbow upon it, her forehead on her hand, all palpitating and +excited. Intimidated for, perhaps, the first time in her life, +she turned away her great blue eyes, as if afraid that they should +betray a reflex of her thoughts. +</P> +<P>As to M. de Tregars, he remained at his place, not having one whit +too much of that power of self-control, which is acquired by a long +experience of the world, to conceal his impressions. If he had a +fault, it was certainly not self-conceit; but Mlle. de Thaller had +been too explicit and too clear to leave him a doubt. All she +had said could be comprised in one sentence, +</P> +<P>“My parents were in hopes that I would become your wife: I had +judged you well enough to understand their error. Precisely because +I love you I acknowledge myself unworthy of you and I wish you to +know that if you had asked my hand,—the hand of a girl who has +a dowry of a million—I would have ceased to esteem you.” +</P> +<P>That such a feeling should have budded and blossomed in Mlle. +Cesarine's soul, withered as it was by vanity, and blunted by +pleasure was almost a miracle. It was, at any rate, an astonishing +proof of love which she gave; and Marius de Tregars would not have +been a man, if he had not been deeply moved by it. Suddenly, +</P> +<P>“What a miserable wretch I am!” she uttered. +</P> +<P>“You mean unhappy,” said M. de Tregars gently. +</P> +<P>“What can you think of my sincerity? You must, doubtless, find it +strange, impudent, grotesque.” +</P> +<P>He lifted his hand in protest; for she gave him no time to put in +a word. +</P> +<P>“And yet,” she went on, “this is not the first time that I am assailed +by sinister ideas, and that I feel ashamed of myself. I was +convinced once that this mad existence of mine is the only enviable +one, the only one that can give happiness. And now I discover that +it is not the right path which I have taken, or, rather, which +I have been made to take. And there is no possibility of retracing +my steps.” +</P> +<P>She turned pale, and, in an accent of gloomy despair, +</P> +<P>“Every thing fails me,” she said. “It seems as though I were rolling +into a bottomless abyss, without a branch or a tuft of grass to +cling to. Around me, emptiness, night, chaos. I am not yet twenty +and it seems to me that I have lived thousands of years, and +exhausted every sensation. I have seen every thing, learned every +thing, experienced every thing; and I am tired of every thing, and +satiated and nauseated. You see me looking like a brainless hoyden, +I sing, I jest, I talk slang. My gayety surprises everybody. In +reality, I am literally tired to death. What I feel I could not +express, there are no words to render absolute disgust. Sometimes I +say to myself, ‘It is stupid to be so sad. What do you need? Are +you not young, handsome, rich?’ But I must need something, or else +I would not be thus agitated, nervous, anxious, unable to stay in +one place, tormented by confused aspirations, and by desires which +I cannot formulate. What can I do? Seek oblivion in pleasure and +dissipation? I try, and I succeed for an hour or so; but the +reaction comes, and the effect vanishes, like froth from champagne. +The lassitude returns; and, whilst outwardly I continue to laugh, +I shed within tears of blood which scald my heart. What is to +become of me, without a memory in the past, or a hope in the future, +upon which to rest my thought?” +</P> +<P>And bursting into tears, +</P> +<P>“Oh, I am wretchedly unhappy!” she exclaimed; “and I wish I was +dead.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars rose, feeling more deeply moved than he would, perhaps, +have liked to acknowledge. +</P> +<P>“I was laughing at you only a moment since,” he said in his grave +and vibrating voice. “Pardon me, mademoiselle. It is with the utmost +sincerity, and from the innermost depths of my soul, that I pity +you.” +</P> +<P>She was looking at him with an air of timid doubt, big tears +trembling between her long eyelashes. +</P> +<P>“Honest?” she asked. +</P> +<P>“Upon my honor.” +</P> +<P>“And you will not go with too poor an opinion of me?” +</P> +<P>“I shall retain the firm belief that when you were yet but a child, +you were spoiled by insane theories.” +</P> +<P>Gently and sadly she was passing her hand over her forehead. +</P> +<P>“Yes, that's it,” she murmured. “How could I resist examples coming +from certain persons? How could I help becoming intoxicated when +I saw myself, as it were, in a cloud of incense when I heard nothing +but praises and applause? And then there is the money, which +depraves when it comes in a certain way.” +</P> +<P>She ceased to speak; but the silence was soon again broken by a +slight noise, which came from the adjoining room. +</P> +<P>Mechanically, M. de Tregars looked around him. The little parlor +in which he found himself was divided from the main drawing-room +of the house by a tall and broad door, closed only by heavy curtains, +which had remained partially drawn. Now, such was the disposition +of the mirrors in the two rooms, that M. de Tregars could see +almost the whole of the large one reflected in the mirror over the +mantelpiece of the little parlor. A man of suspicious appearance, +and wearing wretched clothes, was standing in it. +</P> +<P>And, the more M. de Tregars examined him, the more it seemed to +him that he had already seen somewhere that uneasy countenance, +that anxious glance, that wicked smile flitting upon flat and thin +lips. +</P> +<P>But suddenly the man bowed very low. It was probable that Mme. de +Thaller, who had gone around through the hall to reach the grand +parlor, must be coming in; and in fact she almost immediately +appeared within the range of the glass. She seemed much agitated; +and, with a finger upon her lips, she was recommending to the man +to be prudent, and to speak low. It was therefore in a whisper, +and such a low whisper that not even a vague murmur reached the +little parlor, that the man uttered a few words. They were such +that the baroness started back as if she had seen a precipice yawning +at her feet; and by this action it was easy to understand that she +must have said, +</P> +<P>“Is it possible?” +</P> +<P>With the voice which still could not be heard, but with a gesture +which could be seen, the man evidently replied, +</P> +<P>“It is so, I assure you!” +</P> +<P>And leaning towards Mme. de Thaller, who seemed in no wise shocked +to feel this repulsive personage's lips almost touching her ear, +he began speaking to her. +</P> +<P>The surprise which this species of vision caused to M. de Tregars +was great, but did not keep him from reflecting what could be the +meaning of this scene. How came this suspicious-looking man to +have obtained access, without difficulty, into the grand parlor? +Why had the baroness, on receiving his card, turned whiter than the +laces on her dress? What news had he brought, which had made such +a deep impression? What was he saying that seemed at once to +terrify and to delight Mme. de Thaller? +</P> +<P>But soon she interrupted the man, beckoned to him to wait, +disappeared for a minute; and, when she came in again, she held in +her hand a package of bank-notes, which she began counting upon +the parlor-table. +</P> +<P>She counted twenty-five, which, so far as M. de Tregars could judge, +must have been hundred-franc notes. The man took them, counted them +over, slipped them into his pocket with a grin of satisfaction, and +then seemed disposed to retire. +</P> +<P>The baroness detained him, however; and it was she now, who, leaning +towards him, commenced to explain to him, or rather, as far as her +attitude showed, to ask him something. It must have been a serious +matter; for he shook his head, and moved his arms, as if he meant +to say, “The deuse, the deuse!” +</P> +<P>The strangest suspicions flashed across M. de Tregars' mind. What +was that bargain to which the mirror made him thus an accidental +witness? For it was a bargain: there could be no mistake about it. +The man, having received a mission, had fulfilled it, and had come +to receive the price of it. And now a new commission was offered +to him. +</P> +<P>But M. de Tregars' attention was now called off by Mlle. Cesarine. +Shaking off the torpor which for a moment had overpowered her, +</P> +<P>“But why fret and worry?” she said, answering, rather, the objections +of her own mind than addressing herself to M. de Tregars. “Things +are just as they are, and I cannot undo them. +</P> +<P>“Ah! if the mistakes of life were like soiled clothes, which are +allowed to accumulate in a wardrobe, and which are all sent out at +once to the wash. But nothing washes the past, not even repentance, +whatever they may say. There are some ideas which should be set +aside. A prisoner should not allow himself to think of freedom. +</P> +<P>“And yet,” she added, shrugging her shoulders, “a prisoner has +always the hope of escaping; whereas I—” Then, making a visible +effort to resume her usual manner, +</P> +<P>“Bash!” she said, “that's enough sentiment for one day; and instead +of staying here, boring you to death, I ought to go and dress; for +I am going to the opera with my sweet mamma, and afterwards to the +ball. You ought to come. I am going to wear a stunning dress. +The ball is at Mme. de Bois d'Ardon's,—one of our friends, a +progressive woman. She has a smoking-room for ladies. What do +you think of that? Come, will you go? We'll drink champagne, +and we'll laugh. No? Zut then, and my compliments to your family.” +</P> +<P>But, at the moment of leaving the room, her heart failed her. +</P> +<P>“This is doubtless the last time I shall ever see you, M. de +Tregars,” she said. “Farewell! You know now why I, who have a +dowry of a million, I envy Gilberte Favoral. Once more farewell. +And, whatever happiness may fall to your lot in life, remember +that Cesarine has wished it all to you.” +</P> +<P>And she went out at the very moment when the Baroness de Thaller +returned. +</P> + + +<H2>VII + +</H2><P>“Cesarine!” Mme. de Thaller called, in a voice which sounded at +once like a prayer and a threat. +</P> +<P>“I am going to dress myself, mamma,” she answered. +</P> +<P>“Come back!” +</P> +<P>“So that you can scold me if I am not ready when you want to go? +Thank you, no.” +</P> +<P>“I command you to come back, Cesarine.” +</P> +<P>No answer. She was far already. +</P> +<P>Mme. de Thaller closed the door of the little parlor, and returning +to take a seat by M. de Tregars, +</P> +<P>“What a singular girl!” she said. +</P> +<P>Meantime he was watching in the glass what was going on in the +other room. The suspicious-looking man was there still, and alone. +A servant had brought him pen, ink and paper; and he was writing +rapidly. +</P> +<P>“How is it that they leave him there alone?” wondered Marius. +</P> +<P>And he endeavored to find upon the features of the baroness an +answer to the confused presentiments which agitated his brain. But +there was no longer any trace of the emotion which she had manifested +when taken unawares. Having had time for reflection, she had +composed for herself an impenetrable countenance. Somewhat surprised +at M. de Tregars' silence, +</P> +<P>“I was saying,” she repeated, “that Cesarine is a strange girl.” +</P> +<P>Still absorbed by the scene in the grand parlor, +</P> +<P>“Strange, indeed!” he answered. +</P> +<P>“And such is,” said the baroness with a sigh, “the result of M. de +Thaller's weakness, and above all of my own. +</P> +<P>“We have no child but Cesarine; and it was natural that we should +spoil her. Her fancy has been, and is still, our only law. She +has never had time to express a wish: she is obeyed before she has +spoken.” +</P> +<P>She sighed again, and deeper than the first time. “You have just +seen,” she went on, “the results of that insane education. And yet +it would not do to trust appearances. Cesarine, believe me, is not +as extravagant as she seems. She possesses solid qualities,—of +those which a man expects of the woman who is to be his wife.” +</P> +<P>Without taking his eyes off the glass, +</P> +<P>“I believe you madame,” said M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>“With her father, with me especially, she is capricious, wilful, +and violent; but, in the hands of the husband of her choice, she +would be like wax in the hands of the modeler.” +</P> +<P>The man in the parlor had finished his letter, and, with an +equivocal smile, was reading it over. +</P> +<P>“Believe me, madame,” replied M. de Tregars, “I have perfectly +understood how much naive boasting there was in all that Mlle. +Cesarine told me.” +</P> +<P>“Then, really, you do not judge her too severely?” +</P> +<P>“Your heart has not more indulgence for her than my own.” +</P> +<P>“And yet it is from you that her first real sorrow comes.” +</P> +<P>“From me?” +</P> +<P>The baroness shook her head in a melancholy way, to convey an idea +of her maternal affection and anxiety. +</P> +<P>“Yes, from you, my dear marquis,” she replied, “from you alone. +On the very day you entered this house, Cesarine's whole nature +changed.” +</P> +<P>Having read his letter over, the man in the grand parlor had folded +it, and slipped it into his pocket, and, having left his seat, +seemed to be waiting for something. M. de Tregars was following, +in the glass, his every motion, with the most eager curiosity. And +nevertheless, as he felt the absolute necessity of saying something, +were it only to avoid attracting the attention of the baroness, +</P> +<P>“What!” he said, “Mlle. Cesarine's nature did change, then?” +</P> +<P>“In one night. Had she not met the hero of whom every girl dreams? +—a man of thirty, bearing one of the oldest names in France.” +</P> +<P>She stopped, expecting an answer, a word, an exclamation. But, as +M. de Tregars said nothing, +</P> +<P>“Did you never notice any thing then?” she asked. +</P> +<P>“Nothing.” +</P> +<P>“And suppose I were to tell you myself, that my poor Cesarine, alas! +—loves you?” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars started. Had he been less occupied with the personage +in the grand parlor, he would certainly not have allowed the +conversation to drift in this channel. He understood his mistake; +and, in an icy tone, +</P> +<P>“Permit me, madame,” he said, “to believe that you are jesting.” +</P> +<P>“And suppose it were the truth.” +</P> +<P>“It would make me unhappy in the extreme.” +</P> +<P>“Sir!” +</P> +<P>“For the reason which I have already told you, that I love Mlle. +Gilberte Favoral with the deepest and the purest love, and that +for the past three years she has been, before God, my affianced +bride.” +</P> +<P>Something like a flash of anger passed over Mme. de Thaller's eyes. +</P> +<P>“And I,” she exclaimed,—“I tell you that this marriage is senseless.” +</P> +<P>“I wish it were still more so, that I might the better show to +Gilberte how dear she is to me.” +</P> +<P>Calm in appearance, the baroness was scratching with her nails the +satin of the chair on which she was sitting. +</P> +<P>“Then,” she went on, “your resolution is settled.” +</P> +<P>“Irrevocably.” +</P> +<P>“Still, now, come, between us who are no longer children, suppose +M. de Thaller were to double Cesarine's dowry, to treble it?” +</P> +<P>An expression of intense disgust contracted the manly features of +Marius de Tregars. +</P> +<P>“Ah! not another word, madame,” he interrupted. +</P> +<P>There was no hope left. Mme. de Thaller fully realized it by the +tone in which he spoke. She remained pensive for over a minute, +and suddenly, like a person who has finally made up her mind, she +rang. +</P> +<P>A footman appeared. +</P> +<P>“Do what I told you!” she ordered. +</P> +<P>And as soon as the footman had gone, turning to M. de Tregars, +</P> +<P>“Alas!” she said, “who would have thought that I would curse the day +when you first entered our house?” +</P> +<P>But, whilst, she spoke, M. de Tregars noticed in the glass the +result of the order she had just given. +</P> +<P>The footman walked into the grand parlor, spoke a few words; and at +once the man with the alarming countenance put on his hat and went +out. +</P> +<P>“This is very strange!” thought M. de Tregars. Meantime, the +baroness was going on, +</P> +<P>“If your intentions are to that point irrevocable, how is it that +you are here? You have too much experience of the world not to +have understood, this morning, the object of my visit and of my +allusions.” +</P> +<P>Fortunately, M. de Tregars' attention was no longer drawn by the +proceedings in the next room. The decisive moment had come: the +success of the game he was playing would, perhaps, depend upon +his coolness and self-command. +</P> +<P>“It is because I did understand, madame, and even better than you +suppose, that I am here.” +</P> +<P>“Indeed!” +</P> +<P>“I came, expecting to deal with M. de Thaller alone. I have been +compelled, by what has happened, to alter my intentions. It is +to you that I must speak first.” +</P> +<P>Mme. de Thaller continued to manifest the same tranquil assurance; +but she stood up. Feeling the approach of the storm, she wished +to be up, and ready to meet it. +</P> +<P>“You honor me,” she said with an ironical smile. +</P> +<P>There was, henceforth, no human power capable of turning Marius de +Tregars from the object he had in view. +</P> +<P>“It is to you I shall speak,” he repeated, “because, after you have +heard me, you may perhaps judge that it is your interest to join me +in endeavoring to obtain from your husband what I ask, what I +demand, what I must have.” +</P> +<P>With an air of surprise marvelously well simulated, if it was not +real, the baroness was looking at him. +</P> +<P>“My father,” he proceeded to say, “the Marquis de Tregars, was once +rich: he had several millions. And yet when I had the misfortune +of losing him, three years ago, he was so thoroughly ruined, that +to relieve the scruples of his honor, and to make his death easier, +I gave up to his creditors all I had in the world. What had become +of my father's fortune? What filter had been administered to him +to induce him to launch into hazardous speculations,—he an old +Breton gentleman, full, even to absurdity, of the most obstinate +prejudices of the nobility? That's what I wished to ascertain. +</P> +<P>“And now, madame, I—have ascertained.” +</P> +<P>She was a strong-minded woman, the Baroness de Thaller. She had +had so many adventures in her life, she had walked on the very edge +of so many precipices, concealed so many anxieties, that danger was, +as it were, her element, and that, at the decisive moment of an +almost desperate game, she could remain smiling like those old +gamblers whose face never betrays their terrible emotion at the +moment when they risk their last stake. Not a muscle of her face +moved; and it was with the most imperturbable calm that she said, +</P> +<P>“Go on, I am listening: it must be quite interesting.” +</P> +<P>That was not the way to propitiate M. de Tregars. +<BR>He resumed, in a brief and harsh tone, +</P> +<P>“When my father died, I was young. I did not know then what I have +learned since,—that to contribute to insure the impunity of knaves +is almost to make one's self their accomplice. And the victim who +says nothing and submits, does contribute to it. The honest man, +on the contrary, should speak, and point out to others the trap +into which he has fallen, that they may avoid it.” +</P> +<P>The baroness was listening with the air of a person who is compelled +by politeness to hear a tiresome story. +</P> +<P>“That is a rather gloomy preamble,” she said. M. de Tregars took +no notice of the interruption. +</P> +<P>“At all times,” he went on, “my father seemed careless of his +affairs: that affectation, he thought, was due to the name he bore. +But his negligence was only apparent. I might mention things of +him that would do honor to the most methodical tradesman. He had, +for instance, the habit of preserving all the letters of any +importance which he received. He left twelve or fifteen boxes full +of such. They were carefully classified; and many bore upon their +margin a few notes indicating what answer had been made to them.” +</P> +<P>Half suppressing a yawn, +</P> +<P>“That is order,” said the baroness, “if I know any thing about it.” +</P> +<P>“At the first moment, determined not to stir up the past, I +attached no importance to those letters; and they would certainly +have been burnt, but for an old friend of the family, the Count de +Villegre, who had them carried to his own house. But later, acting +under the influence of circumstances which it would be too long to +explain to you, I regretted my apathy; and I thought that I should, +perhaps, find in that correspondence something to either dissipate +or justify certain suspicions which had occurred to me.” +</P> +<P>“So that, like a respectful son, you read it?” M. de Tregars bowed +ceremoniously. +</P> +<P>“I believe,” he said, “that to avenge a father of the imposture of +which he was the victim during his life, is to render homage to his +memory. Yes, madame, I read the whole of that correspondence, and +with an interest which you will readily understand. I had already, +and without result, examined the contents of several boxes, when in +the package marked 1852, a year which my father spent in Paris, +certain letters attracted my attention. They were written upon +coarse paper, in a very primitive handwriting and wretchedly spelt. +They were signed sometimes Phrasie, sometimes Marquise de Javelle. +Some gave the address, ‘Rue des Bergers, No. 3, Paris-Grenelle.’ +</P> +<P>“Those letters left me no doubt upon what had taken place. My +father had met a young working-girl of rare beauty: he had taken a +fancy to her; and, as he was tormented by the fear of being loved +for his money alone, he had passed himself off for a poor clerk in +one of the departments.” +</P> +<P>“Quite a touching little love-romance,” remarked the baroness. +</P> +<P>But there was no impertinence that could affect Marius de Tregars' +coolness. +</P> +<P>“A romance, perhaps,” he said, “but in that case a money-romance, +not a love-romance. This Phrasie or Marquise de Javelle, announces +in one of her letters, that in February, 1853, she has given birth +to a daughter, whom she has confided to some relatives of hers in +the south, near Toulouse. It was doubtless that event which +induced my father to acknowledge who he was. He confesses that +he is not a poor clerk, but the Marquis de Tregars, having an +income of over a hundred thousand francs. At once the tone of +the correspondence changes. The Marquise de Javelle has a stupid +time where she lives; the neighbors reproach her with her fault; +work spoils her pretty hands. Result: less than two weeks after +the birth of her daughter, my father hires for his pretty mistress +a lovely apartment, which she occupies under the name of Mme. Devil; +she is allowed fifteen hundred francs a month, servants, horses, +carriage.” +</P> +<P>Mme. de Thaller was giving signs of the utmost impatience. Without +paying any attention to them, M. de Tregars proceeded, +</P> +<P>“Henceforth free to see each other daily, my father and his mistress +cease to write. But Mme. Devil does not waste her time. During a +space of less than eight months, from February to September, she +induces my father to dispose—not in her favor, she is too +disinterested for that, but in favor of her daughter—of a sum +exceeding five hundred thousand francs. In September, the +correspondence is resumed. Mme. Devil discovers that she is not +happy, and acknowledges it in a letter, which shows, by its improved +writing and more correct spelling, that she has been taking lessons. +</P> +<P>“She complains of her precarious situation: the future frightens her: +she longs for respectability. Such is, for three months, the +constant burden of her correspondence. She regrets the time when +she was a working girl: why has she been so weak? Then, at last, +in a note which betrays long debates and stormy discussions, she +announces that she has an unexpected offer of marriage; a fine +fellow, who, if she only had two hundred thousand francs, would +give his name to herself and to her darling little daughter. For +a long time my father hesitates; but she presses her point with +such rare skill, she demonstrates so conclusively that this marriage +will insure the happiness of their child, that my father yields at +last, and resigns himself to the sacrifice. And in a memorandum +on the margin of a last letter, he states that he has just given +two hundred thousand francs to Mme. Devil; that he will never see +her again; and that he returns to live in Brittany, where he wishes, +by the most rigid economy, to repair the breach he has just made +in his fortune.” +</P> +<P>“Thus end all these love-stories,” said Mme. de Thaller in a +jesting tone. +</P> +<P>“I beg your pardon: this one is not ended yet. For many years, my +father kept his word, and never left our homestead of Tregars. But +at last he grew tired of his solitude, and returned to Paris. Did +he seek to see his former mistress again? I think not. I suppose +that chance brought them together; or else, that, being aware of his +return, she managed to put herself in his way. He found her more +fascinating than ever, and, according to what she wrote him, rich +and respected; for her husband had become a personage. She would +have been perfectly happy, she added, had it been possible for her +to forget the man whom she had once loved so much, and to whom she +owed her position. +</P> +<P>“I have that letter. The elegant hand, the style, and the correct +orthography, express better than any thing else the transformations +of the Marquise de Javelle. Only it is not signed. The little +working-girl has become prudent: she has much to lose, and fears to +compromise herself. +</P> +<P>“A week later, in a laconic note, apparently dictated by an +irresistible passion, she begs my father to come to see her at her +own house. He does so, and finds there a little girl, whom he +believes to be his own child, and whom he at once begins to idolize. +</P> +<P>“And that's all. Again he falls under the charm. He ceases to +belong to himself: his former mistress can dispose, at her pleasure, +of his fortune and of his fate. +</P> +<P>“But see now what bad luck! The husband takes a notion to become +jealous of my father's visits. In a letter which is a masterpiece +of diplomacy, the lady explains her anxiety. +</P> +<P>“‘He has suspicions,’ she writes; ‘and to what extremities might he +not resort, were he to discover the truth!’ And with infinite art +she insinuates that the best way to justify his constant presence +is to associate himself with that jealous husband. +</P> +<P>“It is with childish haste that my father jumps at the suggestion. +But money is needed. He sells his lands, and everywhere announces +that he has great financial ideas, and that he is going to increase +his fortune tenfold. +</P> +<P>“There he is now, partner of his former mistress's husband, engaged +in speculations, director of a company. He thinks that he is doing +an excellent business: he is convinced that he is making lots of +money. Poor honest man! They prove to him, one morning, that he +is ruined, and, what is more, compromised. And this is made to +look so much like the truth, that I interfere myself, and pay the +creditors. We were ruined; but honor was safe. A few weeks later, +my father died broken-hearted.” +</P> +<P>Mme. de Thaller half rose from her seat with a gesture which +indicated the joy of escaping at last a merciless bore. A glance +from M. de Tregars riveted her to her seat, freezing upon her lips +the jest she was about to utter. +</P> +<P>“I have not done yet,” he said rudely. +</P> +<P>And, without suffering any interruption, +</P> +<P>“From this correspondence,” he resumed, “resulted the flagrant, +irrefutable proof of a shameful intrigue, long since suspected by +my old friend, General Count de Villegre. It became evident to me +that my poor father had been most shamefully imposed upon by that +mistress, so handsome and so dearly loved, and, later, despoiled +by the husband of that mistress. But all this availed me nothing. +Being ignorant of my father's life and connections, the letters +giving neither a name nor a precise detail, I knew not whom to +accuse. Besides, in order to accuse, it is necessary to have, at +least, some material proof.” +</P> +<P>The baroness had resumed her seat; and every thing about her—her +attitude, her gestures, the motion of her lips—seemed to say, +</P> +<P>“You are my guest. Civility has its demands; but really you abuse +your privileges.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars went on, +</P> +<P>“At this moment I was still a sort of savage, wholly absorbed in +my experiments, and scarcely ever setting foot outside my +laboratory. I was indignant; I ardently wished to find and to +punish the villains who had robbed us: but I knew not how to go +about it, nor in what direction to seek information. The wretches +would, perhaps, have gone unpunished, but for a good and worthy man, +now a commissary of police, to whom I once rendered a slight service, +one night, in a riot, when he was close pressed by some half-dozen +rascals. I explained the situation to him: he took much interest +in it, promised his assistance, and marked out my line of conduct.” +</P> +<P>Mme. de Thaller seemed restless upon her seat. +</P> +<P>“I must confess,” she began, “that I am not wholly mistress of my +time. I am dressed, as you see: I have to go out.” +</P> +<P>If she had preserved any hope of adjourning the explanation which +she felt coming, she must have lost it when she heard the tone in +which M. de Tregars interrupted her. +</P> +<P>“You can go out to-morrow.” +</P> +<P>And, without hurrying, +</P> +<P>“Advised, as I have just told you,” he continued, “and assisted by +the experience of a professional man, I went first to No. 3, Rue +des Bergers, in Grenelle. I found there some old people, the +foreman of a neighboring factory and his wife, who had been living +in the house for nearly twenty-five years. At my first question, +they exchanged a glance, and commenced laughing. They remembered +perfectly the Marquise de Javelle, which was but a nickname for a +young and pretty laundress, whose real name was Euphrasie Taponnet. +She had lived for eighteen months on the same landing as themselves: +she had a lover, who passed himself off for a clerk, but who was, +in fact, she had told them, a very wealthy nobleman. They added +that she had given birth to a little girl, and that, two weeks later +she had disappeared, and they had never heard a word from her. When +I left them, they said to me, ‘If you see Phrasie, ask her if she +ever knew old Chandour and his wife. I am sure she'll remember us.’” +</P> +<P>For the first time Mme. de Thaller shuddered slightly; but it was +almost imperceptible. +</P> +<P>“From Grenelle,” continued M. de Tregars, “I went to the house +where my father's mistress had lived under the name of Mme. Devil. +I was in luck. I found there the same concierge as in 1853. As +soon as I mentioned Mme. Devil, she answered me that she had not in +the least forgotten her, but, on the contrary, would know her among +a thousand. She was, she said, one of the prettiest little women +she had ever seen, and the most generous tenant. I understood the +hint, handed her a couple of napoleons, and heard from her every +thing she knew on the subject. It seemed that this pretty Mme. +Devil had, not one lover, but two,—the acknowledged one, who was +the master, and footed the bills; and the other an anonymous one, +who went out through the back-stairs, and who did not pay, on the +contrary. The first was called the Marquis de Tregars: of the +second, she had never known but the first name, Frederic. I +tried to ascertain what had become of Mme. Devil; but the worthy +concierge swore to me that she did not know. +</P> +<P>“One morning, like a person who is going abroad, or who wishes to +cover up her tracks, Mme. Devil had sent for a furniture-dealer, +and a dealer in second-hand clothes, and had sold them every thing +she had, going away with nothing but a little leather satchel, in +which were her jewels and her money.” +</P> +<P>The Baroness de Thaller still kept a good countenance. After +examining her for a moment, with a sort of eager curiosity, Marius +de Tregars went on, +</P> +<P>“When I communicated this information to my friend, the commissary +of police, he shook his head. ‘Two years ago,’ he told me, ‘I +would have said, that's more than we want to find those people; for +the public records would have given us at once the key of this +enigma. But we have had the war and the Commune; and the books of +record have been burnt up. Still we must not give up. A last +hope remains; and I know the man who is capable of realizing it.’ +</P> +<P>“Two days after, he brought me an excellent fellow, named Victor +Chupin, in whom I could have entire confidence; for he was +recommended to me by one of the men whom I like and esteem the most, +the Duke de Champdoce. Giving up all idea of applying at the +various mayors' offices, Victor Chupin, with the patience and the +tenacity of an Indian following a scent, began beating about the +districts of Grenelle, Vargirard, and the Invalids. And not in +vain; for, after a week of investigations he brought me a nurse, +residing Rue de l'Universite, who remembered perfectly having once +attended, on the occasion of her confinement, a remarkably pretty +young woman, living in the Rue des Bergers, and nicknamed the +Marquise de Javelle. And as she was a very orderly woman, who at +all times had kept a very exact account of her receipts, she brought +me a little book in which I read this entry: ‘For attending Euphrasie +Taponnet, alias the Marquise de Javelle (a girl), one hundred francs.’ +And this is not all. This woman informed me, moreover, that she had +been requested to present the child at the mayor's office, and that +she had been duly registered there under the names of Euphrasie +Cesarine Taponnet, born of Euphrasie Taponnet, laundress, and an +unknown father. Finally she placed at my disposal her account-book +and her testimony.” +</P> +<P>Taxed beyond measure, the energy of the baroness was beginning to +fail her; she was turning livid under her rice-powder. Still in +the same icy tone, +</P> +<P>“You can understand, madame,” said Marius de Tregars, “that this +woman's testimony, together with the letters which are in my +possession, enables me to establish before the courts the exact +date of the birth of a daughter whom my father had of his mistress. +But that's nothing yet. With renewed zeal, Victor Chupin had +resumed his investigations. He had undertaken the examination of +the marriage-registers in all the parishes of Paris, and, as early +as the following week, he discovered at Notre Dame des Lorettes the +entry of the marriage of Euphrasie Taponnet with Frederic de +Thaller.” +</P> +<P>Though she must have expected that name, the baroness started up +violently and livid, and with a haggard look. +</P> +<P>“It's false!” she began in a choking voice. +</P> +<P>A smile of ironical pity passed over Marius' lips. +</P> +<P>“Five minutes' reflection will prove to you that it is useless to +deny,” he interrupted. “But wait. In the books of that same church, +Victor Chupin has found registered the baptism of a daughter of M. +and Mme de Thaller, bearing the same names as the first one, +—Euphrasie Cesarine.” +</P> +<P>With a convulsive motion the baroness shrugged her shoulder. +</P> +<P>“What does all that prove?” she said. +</P> +<P>“That proves, madame, the well-settled intention of substituting +one child for another; that proves that my father was imprudently +deceived when he was made to believe that the second Cesarine was +his daughter, the daughter in whose favor he had formerly disposed +of over five hundred thousand francs; that proves that there is +somewhere in the world a poor girl who has been basely forsaken by +her mother, the Marquise de Javelle, now become the Baroness de +Thaller.” +</P> +<P>Beside herself with terror and anger, +</P> +<P>“That is an infamous lie!” exclaimed the baroness. M. de Tregars +bowed. +</P> +<P>“The evidence of the truth of my statements,” he said, “I shall +find at Louveciennes, and at the Hotel des Folies, Boulevard du +Temple, Paris.” +</P> +<P>Night had come. A footman came in carrying lamps, which he placed +upon the mantelpiece. He was not all together one minute in the +little parlor; but that one minute was enough to enable the Marquise +de Thaller to recover her coolness, and to collect her ideas. When +the footman retired, she had made up her mind, with the resolute +promptness of a person accustomed to perilous situations. She gave +up the discussion, and, drawing near to M. de Tregars, +</P> +<P>“Enough allusions,” she said: “let us speak frankly, and face to +face now. What do you want?” +</P> +<P>But the change was too sudden not to arouse Marius's suspicions. +</P> +<P>“I want a great many things,” he replied. +</P> +<P>“Still you must specify.” +</P> +<P>“Well, I claim first the five hundred thousand francs which my +father had settled upon his daughter,—the daughter whom you cast +off.” +</P> +<P>“And what next?” +</P> +<P>“I want besides, my own and my father's fortune, of which we have +been robbed by M. de Thaller, with your assistance, madame.” +</P> +<P>“Is that all, at least?” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars shook his head. +</P> +<P>“That's nothing yet,” he replied. +</P> +<P>“Oh!” +</P> +<P>“We have now to say something of Vincent Favoral's affairs.” +</P> +<P>An attorney who is defending the interests of a client is neither +calmer nor cooler than Mme. de Thaller at this moment. +</P> +<P>“Do the affairs of my husband's cashier concern me, then?” she said +with a shade of irony. +</P> +<P>“Yes, madame, very much.” +</P> +<P>“I am glad to hear it.” +</P> +<P>“I know it from excellent sources, because, on my return from +Louveciennes, I called in the Rue du Cirque, where I saw one Zelie +Cadelle.” +</P> +<P>He thought that the baroness would at least start on hearing that +name. Not at all. With a look of profound astonishment, +</P> +<P>“Rue du Cirque,” she repeated, like a person who is making a +prodigious effort of memory,—“Rue du Cirque! Zelie Cadelle! +Really, I do not understand.” +</P> +<P>But, from the glance which M. de Tregars cast upon her, she must +have understood that she would not easily draw from him the +particulars which he had resolved not to tell. +</P> +<P>“I believe, on the contrary,” he uttered, “that you understand +perfectly.” +</P> +<P>“Be it so, if you insist upon it. What do you ask for Favoral?” +</P> +<P>“I demand, not for Favoral, but for the stockholders who have been +impudently defrauded, the twelve millions which are missing from +the funds of the Mutual Credit.” +</P> +<P>Mme. de Thaller burst out laughing. +</P> +<P>“Only that?” she said. +</P> +<P>“Yes, only that!” +</P> +<P>“Well, then, it seems to me that you should present your reclamations +to M. Favoral himself. You have the right to run after him.” +</P> +<P>“It is useless, for the reason that it is not he, the poor fool! +who has carried off the twelve millions.” +</P> +<P>“Who is it, then?” +</P> +<P>“M. le Baron de Thaller, no doubt.” +</P> +<P>With that accent of pity which one takes to reply to an absurd +proposition,—“You are mad, my poor marquis,” said Mme. de Thaller. +</P> +<P>“You do not think so.” +</P> +<P>“But suppose I should refuse to do any thing more?” +</P> +<P>He fixed upon her a glance in which she could read an irrevocable +determination; and slowly, +</P> +<P>“I have a perfect horror of scandal,” he replied, “and, as you +perceive, I am trying to arrange every thing quietly between us. +But, if I do not succeed thus, I must appeal to the courts.” +</P> +<P>“Where are your proofs?” +</P> +<P>“Don't be afraid: I have proofs to sustain all my allegations.” +</P> +<P>The baroness had stretched herself comfortably in her arm-chair. +</P> +<P>“May we know them?” she inquired. +</P> +<P>Marius was getting somewhat uneasy in presence of Mme. de Thaller's +imperturbable assurance. What hope had she? Could she see some +means of escape from a situation apparently so desperate? Determined +to prove to her that all was lost, and that she had nothing to do +but to surrender, +</P> +<P>“Oh! I know, madame,” he replied, “that you have taken your +precautions. But, when Providence interferes, you see, human +foresight does not amount to much. See, rather, what happens in +regard to your first daughter,—the one you had when you were +still only Marquise de Javelle.” +</P> +<P>And briefly he called to her mind the principal incidents of Mlle. +Lucienne's life from the time that she had left her with the poor +gardeners at Louveciennes, without giving either her name or her +address,—the injury she had received by being run over by Mme. de +Thaller's carriage; the long letter she had written from the +hospital, begging for assistance; her visit to the house, and her +meeting with the Baron de Thaller; the effort to induce her to +emigrate to America; her arrest by means of false information, and +her escape, thanks to the kind peace-officer; the attempt upon her +as she was going home late one night; and, finally, her imprisonment +after the Commune, among the <I>petroleuses</I>, and her release through +the interference of the same honest friend. +</P> +<P>And, charging her with the responsibility of all these +infamous acts, he paused for an answer or a protest. +</P> +<P>And, as Mme. de Thaller said nothing, +</P> +<P>“You are looking at me, madame, and wondering how I have discovered +all that. A single word will explain it all. The peace-officer +who saved your daughter is precisely the same to whom it was once +my good fortune to render a service. By comparing notes, we have +gradually reached the truth,—reached you, madame. Will you +acknowledge now that I have more proofs than are necessary to apply +to the courts?” +</P> +<P>Whether she acknowledged it or not, she did not condescend to discuss. +</P> +<P>“What then?” she said coldly. +</P> +<P>But M. de Tregars was too much on his guard to expose himself, by +continuing to speak thus, to reveal the secret of his designs. +</P> +<P>Besides, whilst he was thoroughly satisfied as to the manoeuvres +used to defraud his father he had, as yet, but presumptions on what +concerned Vincent Favoral. +</P> +<P>“Permit me not to say another word, madame,” he replied. “I have +told you enough to enable you to judge of the value of my weapons.” +</P> +<P>She must have felt that she could not make him change his mind, for +she rose to go. +</P> +<P>“That is sufficient,” she uttered. “I shall reflect; and to-morrow +I shall give you an answer.” +</P> +<P>She started to go; but M. de Tregars threw himself quickly between +her and the door. +</P> +<P>“Excuse me,” he said; “but it is not to-morrow that I want an answer: +it is to-night, this instant!” +</P> +<P>Ah, if she could have annihilated him with a look. +</P> +<P>“Why, this is violence,” she said in a voice which betrayed the +incredible effort she was making to control herself. +</P> +<P>“It is imposed upon me by circumstances, madame.” +</P> +<P>“You would be less exacting, if my husband were here.” +</P> +<P>He must have been within hearing; for suddenly the door opened, and +he appeared upon the threshold. There are people for whom the +unforeseen does not exist, and whom no event can disconcert. Having +ventured every thing, they expect every thing. Such was the Baron +de Thaller. With a sagacious glance he examined his wife and M. de +Tregars; and in a cordial tone, +</P> +<P>“We are quarreling here?” he said. +</P> +<P>“I am glad you have come!” exclaimed the baroness. +</P> +<P>“What is the matter?” +</P> +<P>“The matter is, that M. de Tregars is endeavoring to take an odious +advantage of some incidents of our past life.” +</P> +<P>“There's woman's exaggeration for you!” he said laughing. +</P> +<P>And, holding out his hand to Marius, +</P> +<P>“Let me make your peace—for you, my dear marquis,” he said: “that's +within the province of the husband.” But, instead of taking his +extended hand, M. de Tregars stepped back. +</P> +<P>“There is no more peace possible, sir, I am an enemy.” +</P> +<P>“An enemy!” he repeated in a tone of surprise which was wonderfully +well assumed, if it was not real. +</P> +<P>“Yes,” interrupted the baroness; “and I must speak to you at once, +Frederic. Come: M. de Tregars will wait for you.” +</P> +<P>And she led her husband into the adjoining room, not without first +casting upon Marius a look of burning and triumphant hatred. +</P> +<P>Left alone, M. de Tregars sat down. Far from annoying him, this +sudden intervention of the manager of the Mutual Credit seemed to +him a stroke of fortune. It spared him an explanation more painful +still than the first, and the unpleasant necessity of having to +confound a villain by proving his infamy to him. +</P> +<P>“And besides,” he thought, “when the husband and the wife have +consulted with each other, they will acknowledge that they cannot +resist, and that it is best to surrender.” The deliberation was +brief. In less than ten minutes, M. de Thaller returned alone. He was +pale; and his face expressed well the grief of an honest man who +discovers too late that he has misplaced his confidence. +</P> +<P>“My wife has told me all, sir,” he began. +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars had risen. “Well?” he asked. +</P> +<P>“You see me distressed. Ah, M. le Marquis! how could I ever expect +such a thing from you?—you, whom I thought I had the right to look +upon as a friend. And it is you, who, when a great misfortune +befalls me, attempts to give me the finishing stroke. It is you who +would crush me under the weight of slanders gathered in the gutter.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars stopped him with a gesture. +</P> +<P>“Mme. de Thaller cannot have correctly repeated my words to you, +else you would not utter that word ‘slander.’” +</P> +<P>“She has repeated them to me without the least change.” +</P> +<P>“Then she cannot have told you the importance of the proofs I have +in my hands.” +</P> +<P>But the Baron persisted, as Mlle. Cesarine would have said, to “do +it up in the tender style.” +</P> +<P>“There is scarcely a family,” he resumed, “in which there is not +some one of those painful secrets which they try to withhold from +the wickedness of the world. There is one in mine. Yes, it is +true, that before our marriage, my wife had had a child, whom +poverty had compelled her to abandon. We have since done everything +that was humanly possible to find that child, but without success. +It is a great misfortune, which has weighed upon our life; but it is +not a crime. If, however, you deem it your interest to divulge our +secret, and to disgrace a woman, you are free to do so: I cannot +prevent you. But I declare it to you, that fact is the only thing +real in your accusations. You say that your father has been duped +and defrauded. From whom did you get such an idea? +</P> +<P>“From Marcolet, doubtless, a man without character, who has become +my mortal enemy since the day when he tried a sharp game on me, and +came out second best. Or from Costeclar, perhaps, who does not +forgive me for having refused him my daughter's hand, and who hates +me because I know that he committed forgery once, and that he would +be in prison but for your father's extreme indulgence. Well, +Costeclar and Marcolet have deceived you. If the Marquis de Tregars +ruined himself, it is because he undertook a business that he knew +nothing about, and speculated right and left. It does not take +long to sink a fortune, even without the assistance of thieves. +</P> +<P>“As to pretend that I have benefitted by the embezzlements of my +cashier that is simply stupid; and there can be no one to suggest +such a thing, except Jottras and Saint Pavin, two scoundrels whom +I have had ten times the opportunity to send to prison and who were +the accomplices of Favoral. Besides, the matter is in the hands of +justice; and I shall prove in the broad daylight of the court-room, +as I have already done in the office of the examining judge, that, +to save the Mutual Credit, I have sacrificed more than half my +private fortune.” +</P> +<P>Tired of this speech, the evident object of which was to lead him +to discuss, and to betray himself, +</P> +<P>“Conclude, sir,” M. de Tregars interrupted harshly. Still in the +same placid tone, +</P> +<P>“To conclude is easy enough,” replied the baron. “My wife has told +me that you were about to marry the daughter of my old cashier,—a +very handsome girl, but without a sou. She ought to have a dowry.” +</P> +<P>“Sir!” +</P> +<P>“Let us show our hands. I am in a critical position: you know it, +and you are trying to take advantage of it. Very well: we can still +come to an understanding. What would you say, if I were to give to +Mlle. Gilberte the dowry I intended for my daughter?” +</P> +<P>All M. de Tregars' blood rushed to his face. +</P> +<P>“Ah, not another word!” he exclaimed with a gesture of unprecedented +violence. But, controlling himself almost at once, +</P> +<P>“I demand,” he added, “my father's fortune. I demand that you +should restore to the Mutual Credit Company the twelve millions +which have been abstracted.” +</P> +<P>“And if not?” +</P> +<P>“Then I shall apply to the courts.” +</P> +<P>They remained for a moment face to face, looking into each other's +eyes. Then, +</P> +<P>“What have you decided?” asked M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>Without perhaps, suspecting that his offer was a new insult, +</P> +<P>“I will go as far as fifteen hundred thousand francs,” replied M. +de Thaller, “and I pay cash.” +</P> +<P>“Is that your last word?” +</P> +<P>“It is.” +</P> +<P>“If I enter a complaint, with the proofs in my hands, +you are lost.” +</P> +<P>“We'll see about that.” +</P> +<P>To insist further would have been puerile. +</P> +<P>“Very well, we'll see, then,” said M. de Tregars. But as he +walked out and got into his cab, which had been waiting for him at +the door, he could not help wondering what gave the Baron de +Thaller so much assurance, and whether he was not mistaken in his +conjectures. +</P> +<P>It was nearly eight o'clock, and Maxence, Mme. Favoral and Mlle. +Gilberte must have been waiting for him with a feverish impatience; +but he had eaten nothing since morning, and he stopped in front of +one of the restaurants of the Boulevard. +</P> +<P>He had just ordered his dinner, when a gentleman of a certain age, +but active and vigorous still, of military bearing, wearing a +mustache, and a tan-colored ribbon at his buttonhole, came to take +a seat at the adjoining table. +</P> +<P>In less than fifteen minutes M. de Tregars had despatched a bowl +of soup and a slice of beef, and was hastening out, when his foot +struck his neighbor's foot, without his being able to understand +how it had happened. +</P> +<P>Though fully convinced that it was not his fault, he hastened to +excuse himself. But the other began to talk angrily, and so loud, +that everybody turned around. +</P> +<P>Vexed as he was, Marius renewed his apologies. +</P> +<P>But the other, like those cowards who think they have found a +greater coward than themselves, was pouring forth a torrent of +the grossest insults. +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars was lifting his hand to administer a well-deserved +correction, when suddenly the scene in the grand parlor of the +Thaller mansion came back vividly to his mind. He saw again, as +in the glass, the ill-looking man listening, with an anxious look, +to Mme. de Thaller's propositions, and afterwards sitting down to +write. +</P> +<P>“That's it!” he exclaimed, a multitude of circumstances occurring +to his mind, which had escaped him at the moment. +</P> +<P>And, without further reflection, seizing his adversary by the +throat, he threw him over on the table, holding him down with his +knee. +</P> +<P>“I am sure he must have the letter about him,” he said to the +people who surrounded him. +</P> +<P>And in fact he did take from the side-pocket of the villain a letter, +which he unfolded, and commenced reading aloud, +</P> +<P>“I am waiting for you, my dear major, come quick, for the thing is +pressing,—a troublesome gentleman who is to be made to keep quiet. +It will be for you the matter of a sword-thrust, and for us the +occasion to divide a round amount.” +</P> +<P>“And, that's why he picked a quarrel with me,” added M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>Two waiters had taken hold of the villain, who was struggling +furiously, and wanted to surrender him to the police. +</P> +<P>“What's the use?” said Marius. “I have his letter: that's enough. +The police will find him when they want him.” +</P> +<P>And, getting back into his cab, +</P> +<P>“Rue St. Gilles,” he ordered, “and lively, if possible.” +</P> + + +<H2>VIII + +</H2><P>In the Rue St. Gilles the hours were dragging, slow and gloomy. +After Maxence had left to go and meet M. de Tregars, Mme. Favoral +and her daughter had remained alone with M. Chapelain, and had been +compelled to bear the brunt of his wrath, and to hear his +interminable complaints. +</P> +<P>He was certainly an excellent man, that old lawyer, and too just to +hold Mlle. Gilberte or her mother responsible for Vincent Favoral's +acts. He spoke the truth when he assured them that he had for them +a sincere affection, and that they might rely upon his devotion. +But he was losing a hundred and sixty thousand francs; and a man +who loses such a large sum is naturally in bad humor, and not much +disposed to optimism. +</P> +<P>The cruellest enemies of the poor women would not have tortured +them so mercilessly as this devoted friend. +</P> +<P>He spared them not one sad detail of that meeting at the Mutual +Credit office, from which he had just come. He exaggerated the +proud assurance of the manager, and the confiding simplicity of the +stockholders. “That Baron de Thaller,” he said to them, “is +certainly the most impudent scoundrel and the cleverest rascal I +have ever seen. You'll see that he'll get out of it with clean +hands and full pockets. Whether or not he has accomplices, Vincent +will be the scapegoat. We must make up our mind to that.” +</P> +<P>His positive intention was to console Mme. Favoral and Gilberte. +Had he sworn to drive them to distraction, he could not have +succeeded better. +</P> +<P>“Poor woman!” he said, “what is to become of you? Maxence is a +good and honest fellow, I am sure, but so weak, so thoughtless, so +fond of pleasure! He finds it difficult enough to get along by +himself. Of what assistance will he be to you?” +</P> +<P>Then came advice. +</P> +<P>Mme. Favoral, he declared, should not hesitate to ask for a +separation, which the tribunal would certainly grant. For want +of this precaution, she would remain all her life under the burden +of her husband's debts, and constantly exposed to the annoyances of +the creditors. +</P> +<P>And always he wound up by saying, +</P> +<P>“Who could ever have expected such a thing from Vincent,—a friend +of twenty years' standing! A hundred and sixty thousand francs! +Who in the world can be trusted hereafter?” +</P> +<P>Big tears were rolling slowly down Mme. Favoral's withered cheeks. +But Mlle. Gilberte was of those for whom the pity of others is the +worst misfortune and the most acute suffering. +</P> +<P>Twenty times she was on the point of exclaiming, +</P> +<P>“Keep your compassion, sir: we are neither so much to be pitied nor +so much forsaken as you think. Our misfortune has revealed to us a +true friend,—one who does not speak, but acts.” +</P> +<P>At last, as twelve o'clock struck, M. Chapelain withdrew, announcing +that he would return the next day to get the news, and to bring +further consolation. +</P> +<P>“Thank Heaven, we are alone at last!” said Mlle. Gilberte. +</P> +<P>But they had not much peace, for all that. +</P> +<P>Great as had been the noise of Vincent Favoral's disaster, it had +not reached at once all those who had intrusted their savings to him. +All day long, the belated creditors kept coming in; and the scenes +of the morning were renewed on a smaller scale. Then legal summonses +began to pour in, three or four at a time. Mme. Favoral was losing +all courage. +</P> +<P>“What disgrace!” she groaned. “Will it always be so hereafter?” +</P> +<P>And she exhausted herself in useless conjectures upon the causes of +the catastrophe; and such was the disorder of her mind, that she +knew not what to hope and what to fear, and that from one minute to +another she wished for the most contradictory things. +</P> +<P>She would have been glad to hear that her husband was safe out of +the country, and yet she would have deemed herself less miserable, +had she known that he was hid somewhere in Paris. +</P> +<P>And obstinately the same questions returned to her lips, +</P> +<P>“Where is he now? What is he doing? What is he thinking about? +How can he leave us without news? Is it possible that it is a +woman who has driven him into the precipice? And, if so, who is +that woman?” +</P> +<P>Very different were Mlle. Gilberte's thoughts. +</P> +<P>The great calamity that befell her family had brought about the +sudden realization of her hopes. Her father's disaster had given +her an opportunity to test the man she loved; and she had found +him even superior to all that she could have dared to dream. The +name of Favoral was forever disgraced; but she was going to be +the wife of Marius, Marquise de Tregars. +</P> +<P>And, in the candor of her loyal soul, she accused herself of not +taking enough interest in her mother's grief, and reproached +herself for the quivers of joy which she felt within her. +</P> +<P>“Where is Maxence?” asked Mme. Favoral. +</P> +<P>“Where is M. de Tregars? Why have they told us nothing of their +projects?” +</P> +<P>“They will, no doubt, come home to dinner,” replied Mlle. Gilberte. +</P> +<P>So well was she convinced of this, that she had given orders to the +servant to have a somewhat better dinner than usual; and her heart +was beating at the thought of being seated near Marius, between her +mother and her brother. +</P> +<P>At about six o'clock, the bell rang violently. +</P> +<P>“There he is!” said the young girl, rising to her feet. +</P> +<P>But no: it was only the porter, bringing up a summons ordering Mme. +Favoral, under penalty of the law, to appear the next day, at one +o'clock precisely, before the examining judge, Barban d'Avranchel, +at his office in the Palace of Justice. +</P> +<P>The poor woman came near fainting. +</P> +<P>“What can this judge want with me? It ought to be forbidden to +call a wife to testify against her husband,” she said. +</P> +<P>“M. de Tregars will tell you what to answer, mamma,” said Mlle. +Gilberte. +</P> +<P>Meantime, seven o'clock came, then eight, and still neither Maxence +nor M. de Tregars had come. +</P> +<P>Both mother and daughter were becoming anxious, when at last, a +little before nine, they heard steps in the hall. +</P> +<P>Marius de Tregars appeared almost immediately. +</P> +<P>He was pale; and his face bore the trace of the crushing fatigues of +the day, of the cares which oppressed him, of the reflections which +had been suggested to his mind by the quarrel of which he had nearly +been the victim a few moments since. +</P> +<P>“Maxence is not here?” he asked at once. +</P> +<P>“We have not seen him,” answered Mlle. Gilberte. +</P> +<P>He seemed so much surprised, that Mme. Favoral was frightened. +</P> +<P>“What is the matter again, good God!” she exclaimed. +</P> +<P>“Nothing, madame,” said M. de Tregars,—“nothing that should alarm +you. Compelled, about two hours ago, to part from Maxence, I was to +have met him here. Since he has not come, he must have been +detained. I know where; and I will ask your permission to run and +join him.” +</P> +<P>He went out; but Mlle. Gilberte followed him in the hall, and, +taking his hand, +</P> +<P>“How kind of you!” she began, “and how can we ever sufficiently +thank you?” +</P> +<P>He interrupted her. +</P> +<P>“You owe me no thanks, my beloved; for, in what I am doing, there +is more selfishness than you think. It is my own cause, more than +yours, that I am defending. Any way, every thing is going on well.” +</P> +<P>And, without giving any more explanations, he started again. He +had no doubt that Maxence, after leaving him, had run to the Hotel +des Folies to give to Mlle. Lucienne an account of the day's work. +And, though somewhat annoyed that he had tarried so long, on second +thought, he was not surprised. +</P> +<P>It was, therefore, to the Hotel des Folies that he was going. Now +that he had unmasked his batteries and begun the struggle, he was +not sorry to meet Mlle. Lucienne. +</P> +<P>In less than five minutes he had reached the Boulevard du Temple. +In front of the Fortins' narrow corridor a dozen idlers were +standing, talking. +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars was listening as he went along. +</P> +<P>“It is a frightful accident,” said one,—“such a pretty girl, and +so young too!” +</P> +<P>“As to me,” said another, “it is the driver that I pity the most; +for after all, if that pretty miss was in that carriage, it was for +her own pleasure; whereas, the poor coachman was only attending to +his business.” +</P> +<P>A confused presentiment oppressed M. de Tregars' heart. Addressing +himself to one of those worthy citizens, +</P> +<P>“Have you heard any particulars?” +</P> +<P>Flattered by the confidence, +</P> +<P>“Certainly I have,” he replied. “I didn't see the thing with my +own proper eyes; but my wife did. It was terrible. The carriage, +a magnificent private carriage too, came from the direction of the +Madeleine. The horses had run away; and already there had been an +accident in the Place du Chateau d'Eau, where an old woman had been +knocked down. Suddenly, here, over there, opposite the toy-shop, +which is mine, by the way, the wheel of the carriage catches into +the wheel of an enormous truck; and at once, palata! the coachman +is thrown down, and so is the lady, who was inside,—a very +pretty girl, who lives in this hotel.” +</P> +<P>Leaving there the obliging narrator, M. de Tregars rushed through +the narrow corridor of the Hotel des Folies. At the moment when +he reached the yard, he found himself in presence of Maxence. +</P> +<P>Pale, his head bare, his eyes wild, shaking with a nervous chill, +the poor fellow looked like a madman. Noticing M. de Tregars, +</P> +<P>“Ah, my friend!” he exclaimed, “what misfortune!” +</P> +<P>“Lucienne?” +</P> +<P>“Dead, perhaps. The doctor will not answer for her recovery. I +am going to the druggist's to get a prescription.” +</P> +<P>He was interrupted by the commissary of police, whose kind +protection had hitherto preserved Mlle. Lucienne. He was coming +out of the little room on the ground-floor, which the Fortins used +for an office, bedroom, and dining-room. +</P> +<P>He had recognized Marius de Tregars, and, coming up to him, he +pressed his hand, saying, “Well, you know?” +</P> +<P>“Yes.” +</P> +<P>“It is my fault, M. le Marquis; for we were fully notified. I knew +so well that Mlle. Lucienne's existence was threatened, I was so +fully expecting a new attempt upon her life, that, whenever she went +out riding, it was one of my men, wearing a footman's livery, who +took his seat by the side of the coachman. To-day my man was so +busy, that I said to myself, ‘Bash, for once!’ And behold the +consequences!” +</P> +<P>It was with inexpressible astonishment that Maxence was listening. +It was with a profound stupor that he discovered between Marius and +the commissary that serious intimacy which is the result of long +intercourse, real esteem, and common hopes. +</P> +<P>“It is not an accident, then,” remarked M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>“The coachman has spoken, doubtless?” +</P> +<P>“No: the wretch was killed on the spot.” +</P> +<P>And, without waiting for another question, +</P> +<P>“But don't let us stay here,” said the commissary. +</P> +<P>“Whilst Maxence runs to the drug-store, let us go into the Fortins' +office.” +</P> +<P>The husband was alone there, the wife being at that moment with +Mlle. Lucienne. +</P> +<P>“Do me the favor to go and take a walk for about fifteen minutes,” +said the commissary to him. “We have to talk, this gentleman and +myself.” +</P> +<P>Humbly, without a word, and like a man who does himself justice, +M. Fortin slipped off. +</P> +<P>And at once,—“It is clear, M. le Marquis, it is manifest, that a +crime has been committed. Listen, and judge for yourself. I was +just rising from dinner, when I was notified of what was called +our poor Lucienne's accident. Without even changing my clothes, I +ran. The carriage was lying in the street, broken to pieces. Two +policemen were holding the horses, which had been stopped. I +inquire. I learn that Lucienne, picked up by Maxence, has been able +to drag herself as far as the Hotel des Folies, and that the driver +has been taken to the nearest drug-store. Furious at my own +negligence, and tormented by vague suspicions, it is to the druggist's +that I go first, and in all haste. The driver was in a backroom, +stretched on a mattress. +</P> +<P>“His head having struck the angle of the curbstone, his skull was +broken; and he had just breathed his last. It was, apparently, the +annihilation of the hope which I had, of enlightening myself by +questioning this man. Nevertheless, I give orders to have him +searched. No paper is discovered upon him to establish his identity; +but, in one of the pockets of his pantaloons, do you know what they +find? Two bank-notes of a thousand francs each, carefully wrapped +up in a fragment of newspaper.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars had shuddered. +</P> +<P>“What a revelation!” he murmured. +</P> +<P>It was not to the present circumstance that he applied that word. +But the commissary naturally mistook him. +</P> +<P>“Yes,” he went on, “it was a revelation. To me these two thousand +francs were worth a confession: they could only be the wages of a +crime. So, without losing a moment, I jump into a cab, and drive to +Brion's. Everybody was upside down, because the horses had just +been brought back. I question; and, from the very first words, the +correctness of my presumption is demonstrated to me. The wretch who +had just died was not one of Brion's coachmen. This is what had +happened. At two o'clock, when the carriage ordered by M. Van +Klopen was ready to go for Mlle. Lucienne, they had been compelled +to send for the driver and the footman, who had forgotten themselves +drinking in a neighboring wine-shop, with a man who had called to +see them in the morning. They were slightly under the influence of +wine, but not enough so to make it imprudent to trust them with +horses; and it was even probable that the fresh air would sober them +completely. They had then started; but, they had not gone very far, +for one of their comrades had seen them stop the carriage in front +of a wine-shop, and join there the same individual with whom they +had been drinking all the morning.” +</P> +<P>“And who was no other than the man who was killed?” +</P> +<P>“Wait. Having obtained this information, I get some one to take me +to the wine-shop; and I ask for the coachman and the footman from +Brion's. They were there still; and they are shown to me in a +private room, lying on the floor, fast asleep. I try to wake them +up, but in vain. I order to water them freely; but a pitcher of +water thrown on their faces has no effect, save to make them utter +an inarticulate groan. I guess at once what they have taken. I +send for a physician, and I call on the wine-merchant for +explanations. It is his wife and his barkeeper who answer me. +They tell me, that, at about two o'clock, a man came in the shop, +who stated that he was employed at Brion's, and who ordered three +glasses for himself and two comrades, whom he was expecting. +</P> +<P>“A few moments later, a carriage stops at the door; and the driver +and the footman leave it to come in. They were in a great hurry, +they said, and only wished to take one glass. They do take three, +one after another; then they order a bottle. They were evidently +forgetting their horses, which they had given to hold to a +commissionaire. Soon the man proposes a game. The others accept; +and here they are, settled in the back-room, knocking on the table +for sealed wine. The game must have lasted at least twenty minutes. +At the end of that time, the man who had come in first appeared, +looking very much annoyed, saying that it was very unpleasant, that +his comrades were dead drunk, that they will miss their work, and +that the boss, who is anxious to please his customers, will +certainly dismiss them. Although he had taken as much, and more +than the rest, he was perfectly steady; and, after reflecting for +a moment,—‘I have an idea,’ he says. ‘Friends should help each +other, shouldn't they? I am going to take the coachman's livery, +and drive in his stead. I happen to know the customer they were +going after. She is a very kind old lady, and I'll tell her a +story to explain the absence of the footman.’ +</P> +<P>“Convinced that the man is in Brion's employment, they have no +objection to offer to this fine project. +</P> +<P>“The brigand puts on the livery of the sleeping coachman, gets up +on the box, and starts off, after stating that he will return for +his comrades as soon as he has got through the job, and that +doubtless they will be sober by that time.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars knew well enough the savoir-faire of the commissary +not to be surprised at his promptness in obtaining precise information. +</P> +<P>Already he was going on, +</P> +<P>“Just as I was closing my examination, the doctor arrived. I show +him my drunkards; and at once he recognizes that I have guessed +correctly, and that these men have been put asleep by means of one +of those narcotics of which certain thieves make use to rob their +victims. A potion, which he administers to them by forcing their +teeth open with a knife, draws them from this lethargy. They open +their eyes, and soon are in condition to reply to my questions. +They are furious at the trick that has been played upon them; but +they do not know the man. They saw him, they swear to me, for the +first time that very morning; and they are ignorant even of his +name.” +</P> +<P>There was no doubt possible after such complete explanations. The +commissary had seen correctly, and he proved it. +</P> +<P>It was not of a vulgar accident that Mlle. Lucienne had just been +the victim, but of a crime laboriously conceived, and executed with +unheard-of audacity,—of one of those crimes such as too many are +committed, whose combinations, nine times out of ten, set aside +even a suspicion, and foil all the efforts of human justice. +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars knew now what had taken place, as clearly as if he +had himself received the confession of the guilty parties. +</P> +<P>A man had been found to execute that perilous programme,—to make +the horses run away, and then to run into some heavy wagon. The +wretch was staking his life on that game; it being evident that +the light carriage must be smashed in a thousand pieces. But he +must have relied upon his skill and his presence of mind, to avoid +the shock, to jump off safe and sound; whilst Mlle. Lucienne, +thrown upon the pavement, would probably be killed on the spot. +The event had deceived his expectations, and he had been the victim +of his rascality; but his death was a misfortune. +</P> +<P>“Because now,” resumed the commissary, “the thread is broken in our +hands which would infallibly have led us to the truth. Who is it +that ordered the crime, and paid for it? We know it, since we know +who benefits by the crime. But that is not sufficient. Justice +requires something more than moral proofs. Living, this bandit +would have spoken. His death insures the impunity of the wretches +of whom he was but the instrument.” +</P> +<P>“Perhaps,” said M. Tregars. +</P> +<P>And at the same time he took out of his pocket, and showed the note +found in Vincent Favoral's pocket-book,—that note, so obscure the +day before, now so terribly clear. +</P> +<P>“I cannot understand your negligence. You should get through with +that Van Klopen affair: there is the danger.” +</P> +<P>The commissary of police cast but a glance upon it, and, replying +to the objections of his old experience rather more than addressing +himself to M. de Tregars, +</P> +<P>“There can be no doubt about it,” he murmured. “It is to the crime +committed to-day that these pressing recommendations relate; and, +directed as they are to Vincent Favoral, they attest his complicity. +It was he who had charge of finishing the Van Klopen affair; in other +words, to get rid of Lucienne. It was he, I'd wager my head, who +had treated with the false coachman.” +</P> +<P>He remained for over a minute absorbed in his own thoughts, then, +</P> +<P>“But who is the author of these recommendations to Vincent Favoral? +Do you know that, M. le Marquis?” he said. +</P> +<P>They looked at each other; and the same name rose to their lips, +</P> +<P>“The Baroness de Thaller!” +</P> +<P>This name, however, they did not utter. +</P> +<P>The commissary had placed himself under the gasburner which gave +light to the Fortin's office; and, adjusting his glasses, he was +scrutinizing the note with the most minute attention, studying the +grain and the transparency of the paper, the ink, and the +handwriting. And at last, +</P> +<P>“This note,” he declared, “cannot constitute a proof against its +author: I mean an evident, material proof, such as we require to +obtain from a judge an order of arrest.” +</P> +<P>And, as Marius was protesting, +</P> +<P>“This note,” he insisted, “is written with the left hand, with +common ink, on ordinary foolscap paper, such as is found everywhere. +Now all left-hand writings look alike. Draw your own conclusions.” +</P> +<P>But M. de Tregars did not give it up yet. +</P> +<P>“Wait a moment,” he interrupted. +</P> +<P>And briefly, though with the utmost exactness, he began telling his +visit to the Thaller mansion, his conversation with Mlle. Cesarine, +then with the baroness, and finally with the baron himself. +</P> +<P>He described in the most graphic manner the scene which had taken +place in the grand parlor between Mme. de Thaller and a worse than +suspicious-looking man,—that scene, the secret of which had been +revealed to him in its minutest details by the looking-glass. Its +meaning was now as clear as day. +</P> +<P>This suspicious-looking man had been one of the agents in arranging +the intended murder: hence the agitation of the baroness when she +had received his card, and her haste to join him. If she had +started when he first spoke to her, it was because he was telling +her of the successful execution of the crime. If she had afterwards +made a gesture of joy, it was because he had just informed her that +the coachman had been killed at the same time, and that she found +herself thus rid of a dangerous accomplice. +</P> +<P>The commissary of police shook his head. +</P> +<P>“All this is quite probable,” he murmured; “but that's all.” +</P> +<P>Again M. de Tregars stopped him. +</P> +<P>“I have not done yet,” he said. +</P> +<P>And he went on saying how he had been suddenly and brutally +assaulted by an unknown man in a restaurant; how he had collared +this abject scoundrel, and taken out of his pocket a crushing letter, +which left no doubt as to the nature of his mission. +</P> +<P>The commissary's eyes were sparkling, +</P> +<P>“That letter!” he exclaimed, “that letter!” And, as soon as he had +looked over it, +</P> +<P>“Ah! This time,” he resumed, “I think that we have something +tangible. ‘A troublesome gentleman to keep quiet,’—the Marquis +de Tregars, of course, who is on the right track. ‘It will be for +you the matter of a sword-thrust.’ Naturally, dead men tell no +tales. ‘It will be for us the occasion of dividing a round amount.’ +An honest trade, indeed!” +</P> +<P>The good man was rubbing his hand with all his might. +</P> +<P>“At last we have a positive fact,” he went on,—“a foundation upon +which to base our accusations. Don't be uneasy. That letter is +going to place into our hands the scoundrel who assaulted you,—who +will make known the go-between, who himself will not fail to +surrender the Baroness de Thaller. Lucienne shall be avenged. If +we could only now lay our hands on Vincent Favoral! But we'll find +him yet. I set two fellows after him this afternoon, who have a +superior scent, and understand their business.” +</P> +<P>He was here interrupted by Maxence, who was returning all out of +breath, holding in his hand the medicines which he had gone after. +</P> +<P>“I thought that druggist would never get through,” he said. +</P> +<P>And regretting to have remained away so long, feeling uneasy, and +anxious to return up stairs, +</P> +<P>“Don't you wish to see Lucienne?” he added, addressing himself to M. +de Tregars rather more than to the commissary. +</P> +<P>For all answer, they followed him at once. +</P> +<P>A cheerless-looking place was Mlle. Lucienne's room, without any +furniture but a narrow iron bedstead, a dilapidated bureau, four +straw-bottomed chairs, and a small table. Over the bed, and at +the windows, were white muslin curtains, with an edging that had +once been blue, but had become yellow from repeated washings. +</P> +<P>Often Maxence had begged his friend to take a more comfortable +lodging, and always she had refused. +</P> +<P>“We must economize,” she would say. “This room does well enough +for me; and, besides, I am accustomed to it.” +</P> +<P>When M. de Tregars and the commissary walked in, the estimable +hostess of the Hotel des Folies was kneeling in front of the fire, +preparing some medicine. +</P> +<P>Hearing the footsteps, she got up, and, with a finger upon her +lips, +</P> +<P>“Hush!” she said. “Take care not to wake her up!” The precaution +was useless. +</P> +<P>“I am not asleep,” said Mlle. Lucienne in a feeble voice. “Who +is there?” +</P> +<P>“I,” replied Maxence, advancing towards the bed. +</P> +<P>It was only necessary to see the poor girl in order to understand +Maxence's frightful anxiety. She was whiter than the sheet; and +fever, that horrible fever which follows severe wounds, gave to her +eyes a sinister lustre. +</P> +<P>“But you are not alone,” she said again. +</P> +<P>“I am with him, my child,” replied the commissary. “I come to beg +your pardon for having so badly protected you.” +</P> +<P>She shook her head with a sad and gentle motion. +</P> +<P>“It was myself who lacked prudence,” she said; “for to-day, while +out, I thought I noticed something wrong; but it looked so foolish +to be afraid! If it had not happened to-day, it would have happened +some other day. The villains who have been pursuing me for years +must be satisfied now. They will soon be rid of me.” +</P> +<P>“Lucienne,” said Maxence in a sorrowful tone. +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars now stepped forward. +</P> +<P>“You shall live, mademoiselle,” he uttered in a grave voice. “You +shall live to learn to love life.” +</P> +<P>And, as she was looking at him in surprise, +</P> +<P>“You do not know me,” he added. +</P> +<P>Timidly, and as if doubting the reality, +</P> +<P>“You,” she said, “the Marquis de Tregars!” +</P> +<P>“Yes, mademoiselle, your brother.” +</P> +<P>Had he had the control of events, Marius de Tregars would probably +not have been in such haste to reveal this fact. +</P> +<P>But how could he control himself in presence of that bed where a +poor girl was, perhaps, about to die, sacrificed to the terrors +and to the cravings of the miserable woman who was her mother,—to +die at twenty, victim of the basest and most odious of crimes? How +could he help feeling an intense pity at the sight of this +unfortunate young woman who had endured every thing that a human +being can suffer, whose life had been but a long and painful +struggle, whose courage had risen above all the woes of adversity, +and who had been able to pass without a stain through the mud and +mire of Paris. +</P> +<P>Besides, Marius was not one of those men who mistrust their first +impulse, who manifest their emotion only for a purpose, who reflect +and calculate before giving themselves up to the inspirations of +their heart. +</P> +<P>Lucienne was the daughter of the Marquis de Tregars: of that he was +absolutely certain. He knew that the same blood flowed in his veins +and in hers; and he told her so. +</P> +<P>He told her so, above all, because he believed her in danger; and +he wished, were she to die, that she should have, at least, that +supreme joy. Poor Lucienne! Never had she dared to dream of such +happiness. All her blood rushed to her cheeks; and, in a voice +vibrating with the most intense emotion, +</P> +<P>“Ah, now, yes,” she uttered, “I would like to live.” +</P> +<P>The commissary of police, also, felt moved. +</P> +<P>“Do not be alarmed, my child,” he said in his kindest tone. +“Before two weeks you will be up. M. de Tregars is a great +physician.” +</P> +<P>In the mean time, she had attempted to raise herself on her pillow; +and that simple effort had wrung from her a cry of anguish. +</P> +<P>“Dear me! How I do suffer!” +</P> +<P>“That's because you won't keep quiet, my darling,” said Mme. Fortin +in a tone of gentle scolding. “Have you forgotten that the doctor +has expressly forbidden you to stir?” +</P> +<P>Then taking aside the commissary, Maxence, and M. de Tregars, she +explained to them how imprudent it was to disturb Mlle. Lucienne's +rest. She was very ill, affirmed the worthy hostess; and her advice +was, that they should send for a sick-nurse as soon as possible. +</P> +<P>She would have been extremely happy, of course, to spend the night +by the side of her dear lodger; but, unfortunately, she could not +think of it, the hotel requiring all her time and attention. +Fortunately, however, she knew in the neighborhood a widow, a very +honest woman, and without her equal in taking care of the sick. +</P> +<P>With an anxious and beseeching look, Maxence was consulting M. de +Tregars. In his eyes could be read the proposition that was burning +upon his lips, +</P> +<P>“Shall I not go for Gilberte?” +</P> +<P>But that proposition he had no time to express. Though they had +been speaking very low, Mlle. Lucienne had heard. +</P> +<P>“I have a friend,” she said, “who would certainly be willing to sit +up with me.” +</P> +<P>They all went up to her. +</P> +<P>“What friend,” inquired the commissary of police. +</P> +<P>“You know her very well, sir. It is that poor girl who had taken +me home with her at Batignolles when I left the hospital, who came +to my assistance during the Commune, and whom you helped to get +out of the Versailles prisons.” +</P> +<P>“Do you know what has become of her?” +</P> +<P>“Only since yesterday, when I received a letter from her, a very +friendly letter. She writes that she has found money to set up a +dressmaking establishment, and that she is relying upon me to be +her forewoman. She is going to open in the Rue St. Lazare; but, +in the mean time, she is stopping in the Rue du Cirque.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars and Maxence had started slightly. +</P> +<P>“What is your friend's name?” they inquired at once. +</P> +<P>Not being aware of the particulars of the two young men's visit to +the Rue du Cirque, the commissary of police could not understand +the cause of their agitation. +</P> +<P>“I think,” he said, “that it would hardly be proper now to send for +that girl.” +</P> +<P>“It is to her alone, on the contrary, that we must resort,” +interrupted M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>And, as he had good reasons to mistrust Mme. Fortin, he took the +commissary outside the room, on the landing; and there, in a few +words, he explained to him that this Zelie was precisely the same +woman whom they had found in the Rue du Cirque, in that sumptuous +mansion where Vincent Favoral, under the simple name of Vincent, had +been living, according to the neighbors, in such a princely style. +</P> +<P>The commissary of police was astounded. Why had he not known all +this sooner? Better late than never, however. +</P> +<P>“Ah! you are right, M. le Marquis, a hundred times right!” he +declared. “This girl must evidently know Vincent Favoral's secret, +the key of the enigma that we are vainly trying to solve. What +she would not tell to you, a stranger, she will tell to Lucienne, +her friend.” +</P> +<P>Maxence offered to go himself for Zelie Cadelle. +</P> +<P>“No,” answered Marius. “If she should happen to know you, she +would mistrust you, and would refuse to come.” +</P> +<P>It was, therefore, M. Fortin who was despatched to the Rue du +Cirque, and who went off muttering, though he had received five +francs to take a carriage, and five francs for his trouble. +</P> +<P>“And now,” said the commissary of police to Maxence, “we must both +of us get out of the way. I, because the fact of my being a +commissary would frighten Mme. Cadelle; you because, being Vincent +Favoral's son, your presence would certainly prove embarrassing +to her.” +</P> +<P>And so they went out; but M. de Tregars did not remain long alone +with Mlle. Lucienne. M. Fortin had had the delicacy not to tarry +on the way. +</P> +<P>Eleven o'clock struck as Zelie Cadelle rushed like a whirlwind +into her friend's room. +</P> +<P>Such had been his haste, that she had given no thought whatever to +her dress. She had stuck upon her uncombed hair the first bonnet +she had laid her hand upon, and thrown an old shawl over the +wrapper in which she had received Marius in the afternoon. +</P> +<P>“What, my poor Lucienne!” she exclaimed. “Are you so sick as all +that?” +</P> +<P>But she stopped short as she recognized M. de Tregars; and, in a +suspicious tone, +</P> +<P>“What a singular meeting!” she said. +</P> +<P>Marius bowed. +</P> +<P>“You know Lucienne?” +</P> +<P>What she meant by that he understood perfectly. “Lucienne is my +sister, madame,” he said coldly. +</P> +<P>She shrugged her shoulders. “What humbug!” +</P> +<P>“It's the truth,” affirmed Mlle. Lucienne; “and you know that I +never lie.” +</P> +<P>Mme. Zelie was dumbfounded. +</P> +<P>“If you say so,” she muttered. “But no matter: that's queer.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars interrupted her with a gesture, +</P> +<P>“And, what's more, it is because Lucienne is my sister that you see +her there lying upon that bed. They attempted to murder her to-day!” +</P> +<P>“Oh!” +</P> +<P>“It was her mother who tried to get rid of her, so as to possess +herself of the fortune which my father had left her; and there is +every reason to believe that the snare was contrived by Vincent +Favoral.” +</P> +<P>Mme. Zelie did not understand very well; but, when Marius and Mlle. +Lucienne had informed her of all that it was useful for her to know, +</P> +<P>“Why,” she exclaimed, “what a horrid rascal that old Vincent must +be!” +</P> +<P>And, as M. de Tregars remained dumb, +</P> +<P>“This afternoon,” she went on, “I didn't tell you any stories; but +I didn't tell you every thing, either.” She stopped; and, after a +moment of deliberation, +</P> +<P>“Well, I don't care for old Vincent,” she said. “Ah! he tried to +have Lucienne killed, did he? Well, then, I am going to tell every +thing I know. First of all, he wasn't any thing to me. It isn't +very flattering; but it is so. He has never kissed so much as the +end of my finger. He used to say that he loved me, but that he +respected me still more, because I looked so much like a daughter +he had lost. Old humbug! And I believed him too! I did, upon my +word, at least in the beginning. But I am not such a fool as I +look. I found out very soon that he was making fun of me; and that +he was only using me as a blind to keep suspicion away from another +woman.” +</P> +<P>“From what woman?” +</P> +<P>“Ah! now, I do not know! All I know is that she is married, that +he is crazy about her, and that they are to run away together.” +</P> +<P>“Hasn't he gone, then?” +</P> +<P>Mme. Cadelle's face had become somewhat anxious, and for over a +minute she seemed to hesitate. +</P> +<P>“Do you know,” she said at last, “that my answer is going to cost +me a lot? They have promised me a pile of money; but I haven't got +it yet. And, if I say any thing, good-by! I sha'n't have any thing.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars was opening his lips to tell her that she might rest +easy on that score; but she cut him short. +</P> +<P>“Well, no,” she said: “Old Vincent hasn't gone. He got up a comedy, +so he told me, to throw the lady's husband off the track. He sent +off a whole lot of baggage by the railroad; but he staid in Paris.” +</P> +<P>“And do you know where he is hid?” +</P> +<P>“In the Rue St. Lazare, of course: in the apartment that I hired +two weeks ago.” +</P> +<P>In a voice trembling with the excitement of almost certain success, +“Would you consent to take me there?” asked M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>“Whenever you like,—to-morrow.” +</P> + + +<H2>IX + +</H2><P>As he left Mlle. Lucienne's room, +</P> +<P>“There is nothing more to keep me at the Hotel des Folies,” said +the commissary of police to Maxence. “Every thing possible will be +done, and well done, by M. de Tregars. I am going home, therefore; +and I am going to take you with me. I have a great deal to do and +you'll help me.” +</P> +<P>That was not exactly true; but he feared, on the part of Maxence, +some imprudence which might compromise the success of M. de +Tregars' mission. +</P> +<P>He was trying to think of every thing to leave as little as possible +to chance; like a man who has seen the best combined plans fail for +want of a trifling precaution. +</P> +<P>Once in the yard, he opened the door of the lodge where the +honorable Fortins, man and wife, were deliberating, and exchanging +their conjectures, instead of going to bed. For they were +wonderfully puzzled by all those events that succeeded each other, +and anxious about all these goings and comings. +</P> +<P>“I am going home,” the commissary said to them; “but, before that, +listen to my instructions. You will allow no one, you understand, +—no one who is not known to you, to go up to Mlle. Lucienne's +room. And remember that I will admit of no excuse, and that you +must not come and tell me afterwards, ‘It isn't our fault, we can't +see everybody that comes in,’ and all that sort of nonsense.” +</P> +<P>He was speaking in that harsh and imperious tone of which +police-agents have the secret, when they are addressing people who +have, by their conduct, placed themselves under their dependence. +</P> +<P>“We are going to close our front-door,” replied the estimable +hotel-keepers. “We will comply strictly with your orders.” +</P> +<P>“I trust so; because, if you should disobey me, I should hear it, +and the result would be a serious trouble to you. Besides your +hotel being unmercifully closed up, you would find yourselves +implicated in a very bad piece of business.” +</P> +<P>The most ardent curiosity could be read in Mme. Fortin's little eyes. +</P> +<P>“I understood at once,” she began, “that something extraordinary +was going on.” +</P> +<P>But the commissary interrupted her, +</P> +<P>“I have not done yet. It may be that to-night or to-morrow some +one will call and inquire how Mlle. Lucienne is.” +</P> +<P>“And then?” +</P> +<P>“You will answer that she is as bad as possible; and that she has +neither spoken a word, nor recovered her senses, since the accident; +and that she will certainly not live through the day.” +</P> +<P>The effort which Mme. Fortin made to remain silent gave, better than +any thing else, an idea of the terror with which the commissary +inspired her. +</P> +<P>“That is not all,” he went on. “As soon as the person in question +has started off, you will follow him, without affectation, as far +as the street-door, and you will point him out with your finger, +here, like that, to one of my agents, who will happen to be on the +Boulevard.” +</P> +<P>“And suppose he should not be there?” +</P> +<P>“He shall be there. You can make yourself easy on that score.” +</P> +<P>The looks of distress which the honorable hotel-keepers were +exchanging did not announce a very tranquil conscience. +</P> +<P>“In other words, here we are under surveillance,” said M. Fortin +with a groan. “What have we done to be thus mistrusted?” +</P> +<P>To reply to him would have been a task more long than difficult. +</P> +<P>“Do as I tell you,” insisted the commissary harshly, “and don't +mind the rest, and, meantime, good-night.” +</P> +<P>He was right in trusting implicitly to his agent's punctuality; +for, as soon as he came out of the Hotel des Folies, a man passed +by him, and without seeming to address him, or even to recognize +him, said in a whisper, +</P> +<P>“What news?” +</P> +<P>“Nothing,” he replied, “except that the Fortins are notified. The +trap is well set. Keep your eyes open now, and spot any one who +comes to ask about Mlle. Lucienne.” +</P> +<P>And he hurried on, still followed by Maxence, who walked along like +a body without soul, tortured by the most frightful anguish. +</P> +<P>As he had been away the whole evening, four or five persons were +waiting for him at his office on matters of current business. He +despatched them in less than no time; after which, addressing +himself to an agent on duty, +</P> +<P>“This evening,” he said, “at about nine o'clock, in a restaurant on +the Boulevard, a quarrel took place. A person tried to pick a +quarrel with another. +</P> +<P>“You will proceed at once to that restaurant; you will get the +particulars of what took place; and you will ascertain exactly who +this man is, his name, his profession, and his residence.” +</P> +<P>Like a man accustomed to such errands, +</P> +<P>“Can I have a description of him?” inquired the agent. +</P> +<P>“Yes. He is a man past middle age, military bearing, heavy mustache, +ribbons in his buttonhole.” +</P> +<P>“Yes, I see: one of your regular fighting fellows.” +</P> +<P>“Very well. Go then. I shall not retire before your return. Ah, +I forgot; find out what they thought to-night on the ‘street’ about +the Mutual Credit affair, and what they said of the arrest of one +Saint Pavin, editor of ‘The Financial Pilot,’ and of a banker named +Jottras.” +</P> +<P>“Can I take a carriage?” +</P> +<P>“Do so.” +</P> +<P>The agent started; and he was not fairly out of the house, when the +commissary, opening a door which gave into a small study, called, +“Felix!” +</P> +<P>It was his secretary, a man of about thirty, blonde, with a gentle +and timid countenance, having, with his long coat, somewhat the +appearance of a theological student. He appeared immediately. +</P> +<P>“You call me, sir?” +</P> +<P>“My dear Felix,” replied the commissary, “I have seen you, sometimes, +imitate very nicely all sorts of hand-writings.” +</P> +<P>The secretary blushed very much, no doubt on account of Maxence, who +was sitting by the side of his employer. He was a very honest +fellow; but there are certain little talents of which people do not +like to boast; and the talent of imitating the writing of others is +of the number, for the reason, that, fatally and at once, it suggests +the idea of forgery. +</P> +<P>“It was only for fun that I used to do that, sir,” he stammered. +</P> +<P>“Would you be here if it had been otherwise?” said the commissary. +“Only this time it is not for fun, but to do me a favor that I +wish you to try again.” +</P> +<P>And, taking out of his pocket the letter taken by M. de Tregars +from the man in the restaurant, +</P> +<P>“Examine this writing,” he said, “and see whether you feel capable +of imitating it tolerably well.” +</P> +<P>Spreading the letter under the full light of the lamp, the secretary +spent at least two minutes examining it with the minute attention of +an expert. And at the same time he was muttering, +</P> +<P>“Not at all convenient, this. Hard writing to imitate. Not a +salient feature, not a characteristic sign! Nothing to strike the +eye, or attract attention. It must be some old lawyer's clerk who +wrote this.” +</P> +<P>In spite of his anxiety of mind, the commissary smiled. +</P> +<P>“I shouldn't be surprised if you had guessed right.” +</P> +<P>Thus encouraged, +</P> +<P>“At any rate,” Felix declared, “I am going to try.” +</P> +<P>He took a pen, and, after trying a dozen times, +</P> +<P>“How is this?” he asked, holding out a sheet of paper. +</P> +<P>The commissary carefully compared the original with the copy. +</P> +<P>“It is not perfect,” he murmured; “but at night, with the imagination +excited by a great peril—Besides, we must risk something.” +</P> +<P>“If I had a few hours to practise!” +</P> +<P>“But you have not. Come, take up your pen, and write as well as +you can, in that same hand, what I am going to tell you.” +</P> +<P>And after a moment's thought, he dictated as follows: +</P> +<P>“All goes well. T. drawn into a quarrel, is to fight in the morning +with swords. But our man, whom I cannot leave, refuses to go ahead, +unless he is paid two thousand francs before the duel. I have not +the amount. Please hand it to the bearer, who has orders to wait +for you.” +</P> +<P>The commissary, leaning over his secretary's shoulder, was following +his hand, and, the last word being written, +</P> +<P>“Perfect!” he exclaimed. “Now quick, the address: Mme. la Baronne +de Thaller, Rue de le Pepiniere.” +</P> +<P>There are professions which extinguish, in those who exercise them, +all curiosity. It is with the most complete indifference, and +without asking a question, that the secretary had done what he had +been requested. +</P> +<P>“Now, my dear Felix,” resumed the commissary, “you will please get +yourself up as near as possible like a restaurant-waiter, and take +this letter to its address.” +</P> +<P>“At this hour!” +</P> +<P>“Yes. The Baroness de Thaller is out to a ball. You will tell the +servants that you are bringing her an answer concerning an important +matter. They know nothing about it; but they will allow you to wait +for their mistress in the porter's lodge. As soon as she comes in, +you will hand her the letter, stating that two gentlemen who are +taking supper in your restaurant are waiting for the answer. It may +be that she will exclaim that you are a scoundrel, that she does not +know what it means: in that case, we shall have been anticipated, and +you must get away as fast as you can. But the chances are, that she +will give you two thousand francs; and then you must so manage, that +she will be seen plainly when she does it. Is it all understood?” +</P> +<P>“Perfectly.” +</P> +<P>“Go ahead, then, and do not lose a minute. I shall wait.” +</P> +<P>Away from Mlle. Lucienne, Maxence had gradually been recalled to +the strangeness of the situation; and it was with a mingled feeling +of curiosity and surprise that he observed the commissary acting +and bustling about. +</P> +<P>The good man had found again all the activity of his youth, together +with that fever of hope and that impatience of success, which +usually disappear with age. +</P> +<P>He was going over the whole of the case again,—his first meeting +with Mlle. Lucienne, the various attempts upon her life; and he had +just taken out of the file the letter of information which had been +intrusted to him, in order to compare the writing with that of the +letter taken from his adversary by M. de Tregars, when the latter +came in all out of breath. +</P> +<P>“Zelie has spoken!” he said. +</P> +<P>And, at once addressing Maxence, +</P> +<P>“You, my dear friend,” he resumed, “you must run to the Hotel des +Folies.” +</P> +<P>“Is Lucienne worse?” +</P> +<P>“No. Lucienne is getting on well enough. Zelie has spoken; but +there is no certainty, that, after due reflection, she will not +repent, and go and give the alarm. You will return, therefore, +and you will not lose sight of her until I call for her in the +morning. If she wishes to go out, you must prevent her.” +</P> +<P>The commissary had understood the importance of the precaution. +</P> +<P>“You must prevent her,” he added, “even by force; and I authorize +you, if need be, to call upon the agent whom I have placed on duty, +watching the Hotel des Folies, and to whom I am going to send word +immediately.” +</P> +<P>Maxence started off on a run. +</P> +<P>“Poor fellow!” murmured Marius, “I know where your father is. What +are we going to learn now?” +</P> +<P>He had scarcely had time to communicate the information he had +received from Mme. Cadelle, when the first of the commissary's +emissaries made his appearance. +</P> +<P>“The commission is done,” he said, in that confident tone of a man +who thinks he has successfully accomplished a difficult task. +</P> +<P>“You know the name of the individual who sought a quarrel with M. +de Tregars?” +</P> +<P>“His name is Corvi. He is well known in all the tables d'hote, +where there are women, and where they deal a healthy little game +after dinner. I know him well too. He is a bad fellow, who passes +himself off for a former superior officer in the Italian army.” +</P> +<P>“His address?” +</P> +<P>“He lives at Rue de la Michodiere, in a furnished house. I went +there. The porter told me that my man had just gone out with an +ill-looking individual, and that they must be in a little Café on +the corner of the next street. I ran there, and found my two +fellows drinking beer.” +</P> +<P>“Won't they give us the slip?” +</P> +<P>“No danger of that: I have got them fixed.” +</P> +<P>“How is that?” +</P> +<P>“It is an idea of mine. I just thought, ‘Suppose they put off?’ +And at once I went to notify some policemen, and I returned to +station myself near the Café. It was just closing up. My two +fellows came out: I picked a quarrel with them; and now they are +in the station-house, well recommended.” +</P> +<P>The commissary knit his brows. +</P> +<P>“That's almost too much zeal,” he murmured. “Well, what's done is +done. Did you make any inquiries about the Saint Pavin and Jottras +matter?” +</P> +<P>“I had no time, it was too late. You forget, perhaps, sir, that it +is nearly two o'clock.” +</P> +<P>Just as he got through, the secretary who had been sent to the Rue +de la Pepiniere came in. +</P> +<P>“Well?” inquired the commissary, not without evident anxiety. +</P> +<P>“I waited for Mme. de Thaller over an hour,” he said. “When she +came home, I gave her the letter. She read it; and, in presence of +a number of her servants, she handed me these two thousand francs.” +</P> +<P>At the sight of the bank notes, the commissary jumped to his feet. +</P> +<P>“Now we have it!” he exclaimed. “Here is the proof that we wanted.” +</P> + + +<H2>X + +</H2><P>It was after four o'clock when M. de Tregars was at last permitted +to return home. He had minutely, and at length, arranged every +thing with the commissary: he had endeavored to anticipate every +eventuality. His line of conduct was perfectly well marked out, +and he carried with him the certainty that on the day which was +about to dawn the strange game that he was playing must be finally +won or lost. When he reached home, +</P> +<P>“At last, here you are, sir!” exclaimed his faithful servant. +</P> +<P>It was doubtless anxiety that had kept up the old man all night; but +so absorbed was Marius's mind, that he scarcely noticed the fact. +</P> +<P>“Did any one call in my absence?” he asked. +</P> +<P>“Yes, sir. A gentleman called during the evening, M. Costeclar, who +appeared very much vexed not to find you in. He stated that he came +on a very important matter that you would know all about: and he +requested me to ask you to wait for him to-morrow, that is to-day, +by twelve o'clock.” +</P> +<P>Was M. Costeclar sent by M. de Thaller? Had the manager of the +Mutual Credit changed his mind? and had he decided to accept the +conditions which he had at first rejected? In that case, it was +too late. It was no longer in the power of any human being to +suspend the action of justice. Without giving any further thought +to that visit, +</P> +<P>“I am worn out with fatigue,” said M. de Tregars, “and I am going +to lie down. At eight o'clock precisely you will call me.” +</P> +<P>But it was in vain that he tried to find a short respite in sleep. +For forty-eight hours his mind had been taxed beyond measure, his +nerves had been wrought up to an almost intolerable degree of +exaltation. +</P> +<P>As soon as he closed his eyes, it was with a merciless precision +that his imagination presented to him all the events which had taken +place since that afternoon in the Place-Royale when he had ventured +to declare his love to Mlle. Gilberte. Who could have told him then, +that he would engage in that struggle, the issue of which must +certainly be some abominable scandal in which his name would be +mixed? Who could have told him, that gradually, and by the very +force of circumstances, he would be led to overcome his repugnance, +and to rival the ruses and the tortuous combinations of the wretches +he was trying to reach? +</P> +<P>But he was not of those who, once engaged, regret, hesitate, and +draw back. His conscience reproached him for nothing. It was for +justice and right that he was battling; and Mlle. Gilberte was the +prize that would reward him. +</P> +<P>Eight o'clock struck; and his servant came in. +</P> +<P>“Run for a cab,” he said: “I'll be ready in a moment.” +</P> +<P>He was ready, in fact, when the old servant returned; and, as he +had in his pocket some of those arguments that lend wings to the +poorest cab-horses, in less than ten minutes he had reached the +Hotel des Folies. +</P> +<P>“How is Mlle. Lucienne?” he inquired first of all of the worthy +hostess. +</P> +<P>The intervention of the commissary of police had made M. Fortin and +his wife more supple than gloves, and more gentle than doves. +</P> +<P>“The poor dear child is much better,” answered Mme. Fortin; “and +the doctor, who has just left, now feels sure of her recovery. But +there is a row up there.” +</P> +<P>“A row?” +</P> +<P>“Yes. That lady whom my husband went after last night insists upon +going out; and M. Maxence won't let her: so that they are quarreling +up there. Just listen.” +</P> +<P>The loud noise of a violent altercation could be heard distinctly. +M. de Tregars started up stairs, and on the second-story landing he +found Maxence holding on obstinately to the railing, whilst Mme. +Zelie Cadelle, redder than a peony, was trying to induce him to let +her pass, treating him at the same time to some of the choicest +epithets of her well-stocked repertory. Catching sight of Marius, +</P> +<P>“Is it you,” she cried, “who gave orders to keep me here against my +wishes? By what right? Am I your prisoner?” +</P> +<P>To irritate her would have been imprudent. +</P> +<P>“Why did you wish to leave,” said M. de Tregars gently, “at the very +moment when you knew that I was to call for you?” +</P> +<P>But she interrupted him, and, shrugging her shoulders, +</P> +<P>“Why don't you tell the truth?” she said. “You were afraid to +trust me.” +</P> +<P>“Oh!” +</P> +<P>“You are wrong! What I promise to do I do. I only wanted to go +home to dress. Can I go in the street in this costume?” +</P> +<P>And she was spreading out her wrapper, all faded and stained. +</P> +<P>“I have a carriage below,” said Marius. “No one will see us.” +</P> +<P>Doubtless she understood that it was useless to hesitate. +</P> +<P>“As you please,” she said. +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars took Maxence aside, and in a hurried whisper, +</P> +<P>“You must,” said he, “go at once to the Rue St. Gilles, and in my +name request your sister to accompany you. You will take a closed +carriage, and you'll go and wait in the Rue St. Lazare, opposite +No. 25. It may be that Mlle. Gilberte's assistance will become +indispensable to me. And, as Lucienne must not be left alone, you +will request Mme. Fortin to go and stay with her.” +</P> +<P>And, without waiting for an answer, +</P> +<P>“Let us go,” he said to Mme. Cadelle. +</P> +<P>They started but the young woman was far from being in her usual +spirits. It was clear that she was regretting bitterly having gone +so far, and not having been able to get away at the last moment. +As the carriage went on, she became paler and a frown appeared upon +her face. +</P> +<P>“No matter,” she began: “it's a nasty thing I am doing there.” +</P> +<P>“Do you repent then, assisting me to punish your friend's assassins?” +said M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>She shook her head. +</P> +<P>“I know very well that old Vincent is a scoundrel,” she said; “but +he had trusted me, and I am betraying him.” +</P> +<P>“You are mistaken, madame. To furnish me the means of speaking to +M. Favoral is not to betray him; and I shall do every thing in my +power to enable him to escape the police, and make his way abroad.” +</P> +<P>“What a joke!” +</P> +<P>“It is the exact truth: I give you my word of honor.” She seemed +to feel easier; and, when the carriage turned into the Rue St. +Lazare, “Let us stop a moment,” she said. +</P> +<P>“Why?” +</P> +<P>“So that I can buy old Vincent's breakfast. He can't go out to eat, +of course; and so I have to take all his meals to him.” +</P> +<P>Marius's mistrust was far from being dissipated; and yet he did not +think it prudent to refuse, promising himself, however, not to lose +sight of Mme. Zelie. He followed her, therefore, to the baker's +and the butcher's; and when she had done her marketing, he entered +with her the house of modest appearance where she had her apartment. +</P> +<P>They were already going up stairs, when the porter ran out of his +lodge. +</P> +<P>“Madame!” he said, “madame!” +</P> +<P>Mme. Cadelle stopped. +</P> +<P>“What is the matter?” +</P> +<P>“A letter for you.” +</P> +<P>“For me?” +</P> +<P>“Here it is. A lady brought it less than five minutes ago. Really, +she looked annoyed not to find you in. But she is going to come +back. She knew you were to be here this morning.” +</P> +<P>M. de Tregars had also stopped. +</P> +<P>“What kind of a looking person was this lady?” he asked. +</P> +<P>“Dressed all in black, with a thick veil on her face.” +</P> +<P>“All right. I thank you.” +</P> +<P>The porter returned to his lodge. Mme. Zelie broke the seal. The +first envelope contained another, upon which she spelt, for she did +not read very fluently, “To be handed to M. Vincent.” +</P> +<P>“Some one knows that he is hiding here,” she said in a tone of utter +surprise. “Who can it be?” +</P> +<P>“Who? Why, the woman whose reputation M. Favoral was so anxious to +spare when he put you in the Rue du Cirque house.” +</P> +<P>There was nothing that irritated the young woman so much as this idea. +</P> +<P>“You are right,” she said. “What a fool he made of me; the old rascal! +But never mind. I am going to pay him for it now.” +</P> +<P>Nevertheless when she reached her story, the third, and at the moment +of slipping the key into the keyhole, she again seemed perplexed. +</P> +<P>“If some misfortune should happen,” she sighed. +</P> +<P>“What are you afraid of?” +</P> +<P>“Old Vincent has got all sorts of arms in there. He has sworn to me +that the first person who forced his way into the apartments, he +would kill him like a dog. Suppose he should fire at us?” +</P> +<P>She was afraid, terribly afraid: she was livid, and her teeth +chattered. +</P> +<P>“Let me go first,” suggested M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>“No. Only, if you were a good fellow, you would do what I am going +to ask you. Say, will you?” +</P> +<P>“If it can be done.” +</P> +<P>“Oh, certainly! Here is the thing. We'll go in together; but you +must not make any noise. There is a large closet with glass doors, +from which every thing can be heard and seen that goes on in the +large room. You'll get in there. I'll go ahead, and draw out old +Vincent into the parlor and at the right moment, v'lan! you appear.” +</P> +<P>It was after all, quite reasonable. +</P> +<P>“Agreed!” said Marius. +</P> +<P>“Then,” she said, “every thing will go on right. The entrance of +the closet with the glass doors is on the right as you go in. Come +along now, and walk easy.” +</P> +<P>And she opened the door. +</P> + + +<H2>XI + +</H2><P>The apartment was exactly as described by Mme. Cadelle. In the +dark and narrow ante-chamber, three doors opened,—on the left, +that of the dining-room; in the centre, that of a parlor and +bedroom which communicated; on the right, that of the closet. M. +de Tregars slipped in noiselessly through the latter, and at once +recognized that Mme. Zelie had not deceived him, and that he would +see and hear every thing that went on in the parlor. He saw the +young woman walk into it. She laid her provisions down upon the +table, and called, +</P> +<P>“Vincent!” +</P> +<P>The former cashier of the Mutual Credit appeared at once, coming +out of the bedroom. +</P> +<P>He was so changed, that his wife and children would have hesitated +in recognizing him. He had cut off his beard, pulled out almost +the whole of his thick eye-brows, and covered his rough and +straight hair under a brown curly wig. He wore patent-leather boots, +wide pantaloons, and one of those short jackets of rough material, +and with broad sleeves which French elegance has borrowed from +English stable-boys. He tried to appear calm, careless, and playful; +but the contraction of his lips betrayed a horrible anguish, and +his look had the strange mobility of the wild beasts' eye, when, +almost at bay, they stop for a moment, listening to the barking of +the hounds. +</P> +<P>“I was beginning to fear that you would disappoint me,” he said to +Mme. Zelie. +</P> +<P>“It took me some time to buy your breakfast.” +</P> +<P>“And is that all that kept you?” +</P> +<P>“The porter detained me too, to hand me a letter, in which I found +one for you. Here it is.” +</P> +<P>“A letter!” exclaimed Vincent Favoral. +</P> +<P>And, snatching it from her, he tore off the envelope. But he had +scarcely looked over it, when he crushed it in his hand, exclaiming, +</P> +<P>“It is monstrous! It is a mean, infamous treason!” He was +interrupted by a violent ringing of the door-bell. +</P> +<P>“Who can it be?” stammered Mme. Cadelle. +</P> +<P>“I know who it is,” replied the former cashier. “Open, open quick.” +</P> +<P>She obeyed; and almost at once a woman walked into the parlor, +wearing a cheap, black woolen dress. With a sudden gesture, she +threw off her veil; and M. de Tregars recognized the Baroness de +Thaller. +</P> +<P>“Leave us!” she said to Mme. Zelie, in a tone which one would hardly +dare to assume towards a bar-maid. +</P> +<P>The other felt indignant. +</P> +<P>“What, what!” she began. “I am in my own house here.” +</P> +<P>“Leave us!” repeated M. Favoral with a threatening gesture. +“Go, go!” +</P> +<P>She went out but only to take refuge by the side of M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>“You hear how they treat me,” she said in a hoarse voice. +</P> +<P>He made no answer. All his attention was centred upon the parlor. +The Baroness de Thaller and the former cashier were standing +opposite each other, like two adversaries about to fight a duel. +</P> +<P>“I have just read your letter,” began Vincent Favoral. +</P> +<P>Coldly the baroness said, “Ah!” +</P> +<P>“It is a joke, I suppose.” +</P> +<P>“Not at all.” +</P> +<P>“You refuse to go with me?” +</P> +<P>“Positively.” +</P> +<P>“And yet it was all agreed upon. I have acted wholly under your +urgent, pressing advice. How many times have you repeated to me +that to live with your husband had become an intolerable torment +to you! How many times have you sworn to me that you wished to be +mine alone, begging me to procure a large sum of money, and to fly +with you!” +</P> +<P>“I was in earnest at the time. I have discovered, at the last +moment, that it would be impossible for me thus to abandon my +country, my daughter, my friends.” +</P> +<P>“We can take Cesarine with us.” +</P> +<P>“Do not insist.” +</P> +<P>He was looking at her with a stupid, gloomy gaze. +</P> +<P>“Then,” he stammered, “those tears, those prayers, those oaths!” +</P> +<P>“I have reflected.” +</P> +<P>“It is not possible! If you spoke the truth, you would not be here.” +</P> +<P>“I am here to make you understand that we must give up projects +which cannot be realized. There are some social conventionalities +which cannot be torn up.” As if he scarcely understood what she +said, he repeated, +</P> +<P>“Social conventionalities!” +</P> +<P>And suddenly falling at Mme. de Thaller's feet, his head thrown +back, and his hands clasped together, +</P> +<P>“You lie!” he said. “Confess that you lie, and that it is a final +trial which you are imposing upon me. Or else have you, then, +never loved me? That's impossible! I would not believe you if you +were to say so. A woman who does not love a man cannot be to him +what you have been to me: she does not give herself up thus so +joyously and so completely. Have you, then, forgotten every thing? +Is it possible that you do not remember those divine evenings in the +Rue de Cirque?—those nights, the mere thought of which fires my +brain, and consumes my blood.” +</P> +<P>He was horrible to look at, horrible and ridiculous at the same +time. As he wished to take Mme. de Thaller's hands, she stepped +back, and he followed her, dragging himself on his knees. +</P> +<P>“Where could you find,” he continued, “a man to worship you like me, +with an ardent, absolute, blind, mad passion? With what can you +reproach me? Have I not sacrificed to you without a murmur every +thing that a man can sacrifice here below,—fortune, family, honor, +—to supply your extravagance, to anticipate your slightest fancies, +to give you gold to scatter by the handful? Did I not leave my own +family struggling with poverty? I would have snatched bread from +my children's mouths in order to purchase roses to scatter under +your footsteps. And for years did ever a word from me betray the +secret of our love? What have I not endured? You deceived me. I +knew it, and I said nothing. Upon a word from you I stepped aside +before him whom your caprice made happy for a day. You told me, +‘Steal!’ and I stole. You told me, ‘Kill!’ and I tried to kill.” +</P> +<P>“Fly. A man who has twelve hundred thousand francs in gold, +bank-notes, and good securities, can always get along.” +</P> +<P>“And my wife and children?” +</P> +<P>“Maxence is old enough to help his mother. Gilberte will find a +husband: depend upon it. Besides, what's to prevent you from +sending them money?” +</P> +<P>“They would refuse it.” +</P> +<P>“You will always be a fool, my dear!” +</P> +<P>To Vincent Favoral's first stupor and miserable weakness now +succeeded a terrible passion. All the blood had left his face: +his eyes was flashing. +</P> +<P>“Then,” he resumed, “all is really over?” +</P> +<P>“Of course.” +</P> +<P>“Then I have been duped like the rest,—like that poor Marquis de +Tregars, whom you had made mad also. But he, at least saved his +honor; whereas I—And I have no excuse; for I should have known. +I knew that you were but the bait which the Baron de Thaller held +out to his victims.” +</P> +<P>He waited for an answer; but she maintained a contemptuous silence. +</P> +<P>“Then you think,” he said with a threatening laugh, “that it will +all end that way?” +</P> +<P>“What can you do?” +</P> +<P>“There is such a thing as justice, I imagine, and judges too. I can +give myself up, and reveal every thing.” +</P> +<P>She shrugged her shoulders. +</P> +<P>“That would be throwing yourself into the wolf's mouth for nothing,” +she said. “You know better than any one else that my precautions +are well enough taken to defy any thing you can do or say. I have +nothing to fear.” +</P> +<P>“Are you quite sure of that?” +</P> +<P>“Trust to me,” she said with a smile of perfect security. +</P> +<P>The former cashier of the Mutual Credit made a terrible gesture; but, +checking himself at once, he seized one of the baroness's hands. +She withdrew it quickly, however, and, in an accent of insurmountable +disgust, +</P> +<P>“Enough, enough!” she said. +</P> +<P>In the adjoining closet Marius de Tregars could feel Mme. Zelie +Cadelle shuddering by his side. +</P> +<P>“What a wretch that woman is!” she murmured; “and he—what a base +coward!” +</P> +<P>The former cashier remained prostrated, striking the floor with his +head. +</P> +<P>“And you would forsake me,” he groaned, “when we are united by a +past such as ours! How could you replace me? Where would you find +a slave so devoted to your every wish?” +</P> +<P>The baroness was getting impatient. +</P> +<P>“Stop!” she interrupted,—“stop these demonstrations as useless +as ridiculous.” +</P> +<P>This time he did start up, as if lashed with a whip and, double +locking the door which communicated with the ante-chamber, he put +the key in his pocket; and, with a step as stiff and mechanical as +that of an automaton, he disappeared in the sleeping-room. +</P> +<P>“He is going for a weapon,” whispered Mme. Cadelle. +</P> +<P>It was also what Marius thought. +</P> +<P>“Run down quick,” he said to Mme. Zelie. “In a cab standing +opposite No. 25, you will find Mlle. Gilberte Favoral waiting. Let +her come at once.” +</P> +<P>And, rushing into the parlor, +</P> +<P>“Fly!” he said to Mme. Thaller. +</P> +<P>But she was as petrified by this apparition. +</P> +<P>“M. de Tregars!” +</P> +<P>“Yes, yes, me. But hurry and go!” +</P> +<P>And he pushed her into the closet. +</P> +<P>It was but time. Vincent Favoral reappeared upon the threshold of +the bedroom. But, if it was a weapon he had gone for, it was not +for the one which Marius and Mme. Cadelle supposed. It was a bundle +of papers which he held in his hand. Seeing M. de Tregars there, +instead of Mme. de Thaller, an exclamation of terror and surprise +rose to his lips. He understood vaguely what must have taken place; +that the man who stood there must have been concealed in the glass +closet, and that he had assisted the baroness to escape. +</P> +<P>“Ah, the miserable wretch!” he stammered with a tongue made thick +by passion, “the infamous wretch! She has betrayed me; she has +surrendered me. I am lost!” +</P> +<P>Mastering the most terrible emotion he had ever felt, +</P> +<P>“No, no! you shall not be surrendered,” uttered M. de Tregars. +</P> +<P>Collecting all the energy that the devouring passion which had +blasted his existence had left him, the former cashier of the +Mutual Credit took one or two steps forward. +</P> +<P>“Who are you, then?” he asked. +</P> +<P>“Do you not know me? I am the son of that unfortunate Marquis de +Tregars of whom you spoke a moment since. I am Lucienne's brother.” +</P> +<P>Like a man who has received a stunning blow, Vincent Favoral sank +heavily upon a chair. +</P> +<P>“He knows all,” he groaned. +</P> +<P>“Yes, all!” +</P> +<P>“You must hate me mortally.” +</P> +<P>“I pity you.” +</P> +<P>The old cashier had reached that point when all the faculties, after +being strained to their utmost limits, suddenly break down, when +the strongest man gives up, and weeps like a child. +</P> +<P>“Ah, I am the most wretched of villains!” he exclaimed. +</P> +<P>He had hid his face in his hands; and in one second,—as it happens, +they say, to the dying on the threshold of eternity,—he reviewed +his entire existence. +</P> +<P>“And yet,” he said, “I had not the soul of a villain. I wanted to +get rich; but honestly, by labor, and by rigid economy. And I +should have succeeded. I had a hundred and fifty thousand francs +of my own when I met the Baron de Thaller. Alas! why did I meet +him? 'Twas he who first gave me to understand that it was stupid +to work and save, when, at the bourse, with moderate luck, one might +become a millionaire in six months.” +</P> +<P>He stopped, shook his head, and suddenly, +</P> +<P>“Do you know the Baron de Thaller?” he asked. And, without giving +Marius time to answer, +</P> +<P>“He is a German,” he went on, “a Prussian. His father was a +cab-driver in Berlin, and his mother waiting-maid in a brewery. At +the age of eighteen, he was compelled to leave his country, owing +to some petty swindle, and came to take up his residence in Paris. +He found employment in the office of a stock-broker, and was living +very poorly, when he made the acquaintance of a young laundress +named Affrays, who had for a lover a very wealthy gentleman, the +Marquis de Tregars, whose weakness was to pass himself off for a +poor clerk. Affrays and Thaller were well calculated to agree. +They did agree, and formed an association,—she contributing her +beauty; he, his genius for intrigue; both, their corruption and +their vices. Soon after they met, she gave birth to a child, a +daughter; whom she intrusted to some poor gardeners at Louveciennes, +with the firm and settled intention to leave her there forever. +And yet it was upon this daughter, whom they firmly hoped never to +see again, that the two accomplices were building their fortune. +</P> +<P>“It was in the name of that daughter that Affrays wrung +considerable sums from the Marquis de Tregars. As soon as Thaller +and she found themselves in possession of six hundred thousand +francs, they dismissed the marquis, and got married. Already, at +that time, Thaller had taken the title of baron, and lived in some +style. But his first speculations were not successful. The +revolution of 1848 finished his ruin, and he was about being expelled +from the bourse, when he found me on his way,—I, poor fool, who +was going about everywhere, asking how I could advantageously invest +my hundred and fifty thousand francs.” +</P> +<P>He was speaking in a hoarse voice, shaking his clinched fist in the +air, doubtless at the Baron de Thaller. +</P> +<P>“Unfortunately,” he resumed, “it was only much later that I +discovered all this. At the moment, M. de Thaller dazzled me. His +friends, Saint Pavin and the bankers Jottras, proclaimed him the +smartest and the most honest man in France. Still I would not have +given my money, if it had not been for the baroness. The first time +that I was introduced to her, and that she fixed upon me her great +black eyes, I felt myself moved to the deepest recesses of my soul. +In order to see her again, I invited her, together with her husband +and her husband's friends, to dine with me, by the side of my wife +and children. She came. Her husband made me sign every thing he +pleased; but, as she went off, she pressed my hand.” +</P> +<P>He was still shuddering at the recollection of it, the poor fellow! +</P> +<P>“The next day,” he went on, “I handed to Thaller all I had in the +world; and, in exchange, he gave me the position of cashier in the +Mutual Credit, which he had just founded. He treated me like an +inferior, and did not admit me to visit his family. But I didn't +care: the baroness had permitted me to see her again, and almost +every afternoon I met her at the Tuileries; and I had made bold to +tell her that I loved her to desperation. At last, one evening, +she consented to make an appointment with me for the second +following day, in an apartment which I had rented. +</P> +<P>“The day before I was to meet her, and whilst I was beside myself +with joy, the Baron de Thaller requested me to assist him, by +means of certain irregular entries, to conceal a deficit arising +from unsuccessful speculations. How could I refuse a man, whom, +as I thought, I was about to deceive grossly! I did as he wished. +The next day Mme. de Thaller became my mistress; and I was a lost +man.” +</P> +<P>Was he trying to exculpate himself? Was he merely yielding to that +imperious sentiment, more powerful than the will or the reason, +which impels the criminal to reveal the secret which oppresses him? +</P> +<P>“From that day,” he went on, “began for me the torment of that +double existence which I underwent for years. I had given to my +mistress all I had in the world; and she was insatiable. She +wanted money always, any way, and in heaps. She made me buy the +house in the Rue du Cirque for our meetings; and, between the +demands of the husband and those of the wife, I was almost insane. +I drew from the funds of the Mutual Credit as from an inexhaustible +mine; and, as I foresaw that some day must come when all would be +discovered, I always carried about me a loaded revolver, with +which to blow out my brains when they came to arrest me.” +</P> +<P>And he showed to Marius the handle of a revolver protruding from his +pocket. +</P> +<P>“And if only she had been faithful to me!” he continued, becoming +more and more animated. “But what have I not endured! When the +Marquis de Tregars returned to Paris, and they set about defrauding +him of his fortune, she did not hesitate a moment to become his +mistress again. She used to tell me, ‘What a fool you are! all +I want is his money. I love no one but you.’ But after his death +she took others. She made use of our house in the Rue du Cirque +for purposes of dissipation for herself and her daughter Cesarine. +And I—miserable coward that I was!—I suffered all, so much +did I tremble to lose her, so much did I fear to be weaned from +the semblance of love with which she paid my fearful sacrifices. +And now she would betray me, forsake me! For every thing that has +taken place was suggested by her in order to procure a sum wherewith +to fly to America. It was she who imagined the wretched comedy +which I played, so as to throw upon myself the whole responsibility. +M. de Thaller has had millions for his share: I have only had twelve +hundred thousand francs.” +</P> +<P>Violent nervous shudders shook his frame: his face became purple. +He drew himself up, and, brandishing the letters which he held in +his hand, +</P> +<P>“But all is not over!” he exclaimed. “There are proofs which +neither the baron nor his wife know that I have. I have the proof +of the infamous swindle of which the Marquis de Tregars was the +victim. I have the proof of the farce got up by M. de Thaller and +myself to defraud the stockholders of the Mutual Credit!” +</P> +<P>“What do you hope for?” +</P> +<P>He was laughing a stupid laugh. +</P> +<P>“I? I shall go and hide myself in some suburb of Paris, and write +to Affrays to come. She knows that I have twelve hundred thousand +francs. She will come; and she will keep coming as long as I have +any money. And when I have no more:—” +</P> +<P>He stopped short, starting back, his arms outstretched as if to +repel a terrifying apparition. Mlle. Gilberte had just appeared +at the door. +</P> +<P>“My daughter!” stammered the wretch. “Gilberte!” +</P> +<P>“The Marquise de Tregars,” uttered Marius. +</P> +<P>An inexpressible look of terror and anguish convulsed the features +of Vincent Favoral: he guessed that it was the end. +</P> +<P>“What do you want with me?” he stammered. +</P> +<P>“The money that you have stolen, father,” replied the girl in an +inexorable tone of voice,—“the twelve hundred thousand francs which +you have here, then the proofs which are in your hands, and, finally +your weapons.” +</P> +<P>He was trembling from head to foot. +</P> +<P>“Take away my money!” he said. “Why, that would be compelling me +to give myself up! Do you wish to see me in prison?” +</P> +<P>“The disgrace would fall back upon your children, sir,” said M. de +Tregars. “We shall, on the contrary, do every thing in the world +to enable you to evade the pursuit of the police.” +</P> +<P>“Well, yes, then. But to-morrow I must write to Affrays: I must +see her!” +</P> +<P>“You have lost your mind, father,” said Mlle. Gilberte. “Come, do +as I ask you.” +</P> +<P>He drew himself up to his full height. +</P> +<P>“And suppose I refuse?” +</P> +<P>But it was the last effort of his will. He yielded, though not +without an agonizing struggle and gave up to his daughter the +money, the proofs and the arms. And as she was walking away, +leaning on M. de Tregars' arm, +</P> +<P>“But send me your mother, at least,” he begged. “She will +understand me: she will not be without pity. She is my wife: let +her come quick. I will not, I can not remain alone.” +</P> + + +<H2>XII + +</H2><P>It was with convulsive haste that the Baroness de Thaller went over +the distance that separated the Rue St. Lazare from the Rue de la +Pepiniere. The sudden intervention of M. de Tregars had upset all +her ideas. The most sinister presentiments agitated her mind. In +the courtyard of her residence, all the servants, gathered in a +group, were talking. They did not take the trouble to stand aside +to let her pass; and she even noticed some smiles and ironical +gigglings. This was a terrible blow to her. What was the matter? +What had they heard? In the magnificent vestibule, a man was +sitting as she came in. It was the same suspicious character that +Marius de Tregars had seen in the grand parlor, in close conference +with the baroness. +</P> +<P>“Bad news,” he said with a sheepish look. +</P> +<P>“What?” +</P> +<P>“That little Lucienne must have her soul riveted to her body. She +is only wounded; and she'll get over it.” +</P> +<P>“Never mind Lucienne. What about M. de Tregars?” +</P> +<P>“Oh! he is another sharp one. Instead of taking up our man's +provocation, he collared him, and took away from him the note I +had sent him.” +</P> +<P>Mme. de Thaller started violently. +</P> +<P>“What is the meaning, then,” she asked, “of your letter of last +night, in which you requested me to hand two thousand francs to +the bearer?” +</P> +<P>The man became pale as death. +</P> +<P>“You received a letter from me,” he stammered, “last night?” +</P> +<P>“Yes, from you; and I gave the money.” +</P> +<P>The man struck his forehead. +</P> +<P>“I understand it all!” he exclaimed. +</P> +<P>“What?” +</P> +<P>“They wanted proofs. They imitated my handwriting, and you swallowed +the bait. That's the reason why I spent the night in the +station-house; and, if they let me go this morning, it was to find +out where I'd go. I have been followed, they are shadowing me. We +are gone up, Mme. le Baronne. <I>Sauve qui peut!</I>” +</P> +<P>And he ran out. +</P> +<P>More agitated than ever Mme. de Thaller went up stairs. In the +little red-and-gold parlor, the Baron de Thaller and Mlle. Cesarine +were waiting for her. Stretched upon an arm-chair, her legs crossed, +the tip of her boot on a level with her eye, Mlle. Cesarine, with +a look of ironical curiosity, was watching her father, who, livid +and trembling with nervous excitement, was walking up and down, like +a wild beast in his cage. As soon as the baroness appeared, +</P> +<P>“Things are going badly,” said her husband, “very badly. Our game +is devilishly compromised.” +</P> +<P>“You think so?” +</P> +<P>“I am but too sure of it. Such a well-combined stroke too! But +every thing is against us. In presence of the examining magistrate, +Jottras held out well; but Saint Pavin spoke. That dirty rascal +was not satisfied with the share allotted to him. On the +information furnished by him, Costeclar was arrested this morning. +And Costeclar knows all, since he has been your confidant, Vincent +Favoral's, and my own. When a man has, like him, two or three +forgeries in his record, he is sure to speak. He will speak. +Perhaps he has already done so, since the police has taken +possession of Latterman's office, with whom I had organized the +panic and the tumble in the Mutual Credit stock. What can we do +to ward off this blow?” +</P> +<P>With a surer glance than her husband, Mme. de Thaller had measured +the situation. +</P> +<P>“Do not try to ward it off,” she replied: “It would be useless.” +</P> +<P>“Because?” +</P> +<P>“Because M. de Tregars has found Vincent Favoral; because, at this +very moment, they are together, arranging their plans.” +</P> +<P>The baron made a terrible gesture. +</P> +<P>“Ah, thunder and lightning!” he exclaimed. “I always told you that +this stupid fool, Favoral, would cause our ruin. It was so easy +for you to find an occasion for him to blow his brains out.” +</P> +<P>“Was it so difficult for you to accept M. de Tregars' offers?” +</P> +<P>“It was you who made me refuse.” +</P> +<P>“Was it me, too, who was so anxious to get rid of Lucienne?” +</P> +<P>For years, Mlle. Cesarine had not seemed so amused; and, in a half +whisper, she was humming the famous tune, from “The Pearl of +Poutoise,” +</P> +<P> “Happy accord! Happy couple!” +</P> +<P>M. de Thaller, beside himself, was advancing to seize the baroness: +she was drawing back, knowing him, perhaps to be capable of any +thing, when suddenly there was a violent knocking at the door. +</P> +<P>“In the name of the law!” +</P> +<P>It was a commissary of police. +</P> +<P>And, whilst surrounded by agents, they were taken to a cab. +</P> +<P align=center> * * * +</P> +<P>“Orphan on both sides!” exclaimed Mlle. Cesarine, “I am free, then. +Now we'll have some fun!” +</P> +<P>At that very moment, M. de Tregars and Mlle. Gilberte reached the +Rue St. Gilles. +</P> +<P>Hearing that her husband had been found, +</P> +<P>“I must see him!” exclaimed Mme. Favoral. +</P> +<P>And, in spite of any thing they could tell her, she threw a shawl +over her shoulders, and started with Mlle. Gilberte. +</P> +<P>When they had entered Mme. Zelie's apartment, of which they had a +key, they found in the parlor, with his back towards them, Vincent +Favoral sitting at the table, leaning forward, and apparently +writing. Mme. Favoral approached on tiptoe, and over her husband's +shoulder she read what he had just written, +</P> +<P>“Affrays, my beloved, eternally-adored mistress, will you forgive +me? The money that I was keeping for you, my darling, the proofs +which will crush your husband—they have taken every thing from me, +basely, by force. And it is my daughter—” +</P> +<P>He had stopped there. Surprised at his immobility, Mme. Favoral +called, +</P> +<P>“Vincent!” +</P> +<P>He made no answer. She pushed him with her finger. He rolled to +the ground. He was dead. +</P> +<P>Three months later the great Mutual Credit suit was tried before +the Sixth Court. The scandal was great; but public curiosity was +strangely disappointed. As in most of these financial affairs, +justice, whilst exposing the most audacious frauds, was not able +to unravel the true secret. +</P> +<P>She managed, at least, to lay hands upon every thing that the +Baron de Thaller had hoped to save. That worthy was condemned to +five years' prison; M. Costeclar got off with three years; and M. +Jottras with two. M. Saint Pavin was acquitted. +</P> +<P>Arrested for subornation of murder, the former Marquise de Javelle +the Baroness de Thaller, was released for want of proper proof. But, +implicated in the suit against her husband, she lost three-fourths +of her fortune, and is now living with her daughter, whose début is +announced at the Bouffes-Parisiens, or at the Delassements-Comiques. +</P> +<P>Already, before that time, Mlle. Lucienne, completely restored, had +married Maxence Favoral. +</P> +<P>Of the five hundred thousand francs which were returned to her, she +applied three hundred thousand to discharge the debts of her +father-in-law, and with the rest she induced her husband to emigrate +to America. Paris had become odious to both. +</P> +<P>Marius and Mlle. Gilberte, who has now become Marquise de Tregars, +have taken up their residence at the Chateau de Tregars, three +leagues from Quimper. They have been followed in their retreat by +Mme. Favoral and by General Count de Villegre. +</P> +<P>The greater portion of his father's fortune, Marius had applied to +pay off all the personal creditors of the former cashier of the +Mutual Credit, all the trades-people, and also M. Chapelain, old +man Desormeaux, and M. and Mme. Desclavettes. +</P> +<P>All that is left to the Marquis and Marquise de Tregars is some +twenty thousand francs a year, and if they ever lose them, it will +not be at the bourse. +</P> +<P>The Mutual Credit is quoted at 467.25! +</P> + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Other People's Money, by Emile Gaboriau + +<PRE> + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY *** + +This file should be named opmny11.txt or opmny11.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, opmny11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, opmny10a.txt + + + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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