‘What, me? In old Baudrand’s place?’
‘Yes.’
‘Who told you that!’
‘Monsieur Gaudissart!’
‘Oh! Do you want me to go wild with joy? – Rosalie, did you hear that? This will turn the other stagehands green with envy!… But the gentleman who has been so kind to us can’t sleep in an attic! It can’t be done.’
‘Yes inteet! It iss goot enoff for the few tays I haf to lif!’ said Schmucke. ‘Goot-pye. I go to ze cemetery… to see vat zey haf tone viz Pons… and orter some flowers to put on hiss grafe.’
Madame Camusot de Marville was a prey to the liveliest alarm. Fraisier was holding council with Godeschal and Berthier. Berthier the notary and Godeschal the solicitor regarded the will drawn up by two notaries in the presence of two witnesses as incontestable, thanks to the clear terms in which Hannequin had couched it. The honest Godeschal’s view was that even if Schmucke’s present counsel succeeded in hoodwinking him he would be enlightened in the end, if only by one of those advocates who seek to draw attention to themselves by their disinterestedness and scrupulosity. And so the two legal officials left the Présidente, urging her to be wary of Fraisier, whose past history they had naturally looked into. At this moment Fraisier, after attending the affixing of the seals, was drafting the terms of a subpoena in the Président’s office where Madame de Marville had installed him at the suggestion of the two legal officials – the latter had realized that the affair was too shady for a senior magistrate to soil his hands with it, as they expressed it, and they had wanted to voice their opinion to Madame de Marville in Fraisier’s absence.
‘Well, Madame, where are those two gentlemen?’ asked the former advocate of Mantes.
‘They have gone… and they advise me to drop this business!’ replied Madame de Marville.
‘Drop it?’ said Fraisier, scarcely able to contain his fury. ‘Listen, Madame…’
And he read out the following document:
BY THE PETITION OF, et cetera et cetera… [I leave out the preliminary verbiage.]
WHEREAS before His Worship the Chairman of the Court of First Instance has been laid a Will drawn by Maîtres Léopold Hannequin and Alexandre Crottat notaries in Paris in the presence of two witnesses namely the Sieurs Friedrich Brunner and Wilhelm Schwab aliens domiciled in Paris whereby the Sieur Sylvain Pons deceased has bequeathed his estate to a Sieur Wilhelm Schmucke of German nationality to the prejudice of the Petitioner his natural and lawful heir
AND whereas the Petitioner engages to offer proof that the said Will was obtained by the exercise of undue influence and practices reprobated by the law in support of which he will call eminent persons to witness that the Testator’s true intention was to bequeath his estate to Mademoiselle Cécile daughter of the aforesaid Sieur dc Marville and that the Testament which the Petitioner requests the Court to declare void and of none effect was solicited from the Testator when he was failing in body and of wholly unsound mind
AND whereas the aforesaid Sieur Schmucke for the purpose of inducing the Testator to will his estate to him kept him in durance and denied the family of the Deceased all access to his deathbed and having attained this end committed such notorious acts of ingratitude as caused scandal to other residents of the house and quarter who by chance coming to pay their last respects to the concierge of the house in which the Testator died were witnesses of the said acts
AND whereas still graver facts evidence of which the Petitioner is at the present time collating will be set forth in detail before the Justices of the Court
THEREFORE I the undersigned Registrar of the Court et cetera et cetera in the name of the said Petitioner have cited the said Sieur Schmucke to appear as Defendant before the Justices constituting the First Chamber of the Court to show cause why the Will recorded by the notaries Hannequin and Crottat having clearly been obtained by the use of undue influence should not be declared null and void I have likewise in the name of the aforesaid Petitioner denied any claim on the part of the Sieur Schmucke to assume the quality and capacity of sole heir it being the intention of the Petitioner to oppose as he hereby opposes by this his Petition of today’s date presented to the Chairman of the Court the request of the said Wilhelm Schmucke for a writ of possession and I have delivered him copy of these presents whereof the cost is… Et cetera…
‘I know this man, Madame la Présidente. When he reads this little billet doux he will come to a compromise. He will consult Tabareau. Tabareau will advise him to accept our terms. Are you willing to give him the three thousand francs’ annuity?’
‘Certainly. I only wish we had come to the point of paying the first instalment.’
‘It will be done before three days are out. This subpoena will reach him before he has got over the first shock of bereavement – he really is heart-broken over Pons, the poor man. He has taken this loss very hard.’
‘Once the subpoena has been issued, can it be withdrawn?’
‘Certainly, Madame. One can always desist from an action.’
‘Very well, Monsieur, proceed with it!… Continue! Yes, the sum you are contriving to secure for me is well worth the trouble. Moreover, I have arranged the matter of Vitel’s resignation; but the sixty thousand francs he is to have will have to be paid out of the proceeds of the Pons succession. So you see, we must succeed.’
‘You have his letter of resignation?’
‘Yes, Monsieur. Monsieur Vitel has full confidence in Monsieur de Marville.’
‘Well, Madame, I have saved you the sixty thousand francs that I thought we ought to give to that despicable concierge, Madame Cibot. But I still hold to the tobacconist’s licence for the woman Sauvage; also to my friend Poulain’s appointment to the vacant post of senior medical officer at the Hospital for the Blind.’
‘That is understood, and everything is arranged.’
‘Thank you. There is no more to say. Everyone is with you in this matter, including the theatre director Gaudissart, whom I called on yesterday and who promised to deflate the theatre worker who might upset out plans.’
‘Oh, I know Monsieur Gaudissart is entirely devoted to the Popinots!’
Fraisier left. Unfortunately he did not run into Gaudissart and the fatal subpoena was forthwith dispatched.
All covetous people will understand and all honest people will feel abhorrence for the Présidente’s joy when, twenty minutes after Fraisier’s departure, Gaudissart arrived to tell her of his conversation with poor Schmucke. The Présidente approved of everything, and was infinitely grateful to the theatre director for removing all her scruples by the observations which he made, and which she found very pertinent.
‘Madame la Présidente,’ he said on arriving. ‘My idea was that this poor fellow would not know what to do with his inheritance. He has the simplicity of patriarchal times. He’s ingenuous, he’s Teutonic, he ought to be stuffed, or put in a glass case like a wax image of the Infant Jesus. In a word, I think he’s already puzzled to know what to do with his two thousand five hundred francs’ annuity. Really you’re encouraging him to go in for loose living!’
‘It is very noble-hearted of us,’ said the Présidente, ‘to enrich this fellow merely for lamenting over our cousin’s death. But for my part I do deplore the little misunderstanding which estranged us, Monsieur Pons and myself. Had he returned, we would have forgiven him everything. If you knew how my husband missed him! Monsieur.de Marville was very disturbed at not receiving notice of his death. He regards family ties as sacred. He would have gone to the church, followed the hearse, attended the burial. I myself would have gone to the requiem mass…’
‘Well, gracious lady,’ said Gaudissart, ‘be so good as to get the agreement ready. At four o’clock I will bring the German to you. Commend me, Madame, to the goodwill of your charming daughter, the Vicomtesse Popinot. I hope she will tell my illustrious friend, her kind and excellent father-in-law, that eminent statesman, how devoted I am to all he holds dear; and may he continue hi
s valuable benevolence towards me! I owe my life to his uncle the judge; I owe all my fortune to Monsieur le Comte. I could wish that I might be indebted to you and your daughter for the high esteem attached to people of influence and position. I hope to leave the theatre and become a man of consequence.’
‘You are that already, Monsieur!’ said the Présidente.
‘You are most gracious!’ Gaudissart replied, and he kissed Madame de Marville’s scrawny hand.
Conclusion
BY four o’clock several persons were assembled in the office of Monsieur Berthier the notary: first of all Fraisier, who had drawn up the instrument of settlement, Tabareau acting for Schmucke, and Schmucke himself, whom Gaudissart had brought with him. Fraisier had taken care to place the banknotes for the six thousand francs stipulated, with six hundred francs as first instalment of the annuity, on the notary’s desk, where the German could see them. The latter, in stupefaction at the sight of so much money, paid not the slightest attention to the reading of the deed. He had been picked up by Gaudissart on his way back from the cemetery, where he had communed with Pons and promised to rejoin him. He was still not in possession of all his faculties, so disturbed were they by the shocks he had received. That is why he did not listen to the preamble of the document, in which Maître Tabareau, bailiff, was cited as his proxy and counsel, and in which the motives for the proceedings initiated by the Président in his daughter’s interests were recapitulated. The German was playing a sorry role, for by putting his signature to the deed he was pleading guilty to Fraisier’s accusations. But he was so glad to set eyes on the money for the Topinard family, so happy to be conferring wealth – for such it seemed to his modest way of thinking – on the only man who had loved Pons, that he did not take in a word of this settlement out of court.
Half-way through the reading of the deed, a clerk entered the office.
‘Monsieur,’ he said to his chief, ‘there’s a man who wishes to speak to Monsieur Schmucke.’
At a gesture from Fraisier, the notary gave a significant shrug.
‘You should never disturb us when we are signing documents! Ask the name of this… what is he, an ordinary man or a gentleman? Is he a creditor?’
When the clerk returned, he said:
‘He insists on speaking to Monsieur Schmucke.’
‘His name?’
‘Topinard.’
‘I will go out to him,’ said Gaudissart. ‘Don’t worry,’ he added, turning to Schmucke. ‘Just get on with the signing. I will find out what he wants.’
Gaudissart had understood Fraisier’s gesture; each of them scented danger.
‘What brings you here?’ Gaudissart asked his employee. ‘Do you want to be cashier or not? A cashier’s first qualification is tact…’
‘Monsieur…’
‘You’d better mind your own business. You’ll get nowhere if you meddle with other people’s.’
‘Monsieur, I will not eat bread every mouthful of which would stick in my throat!… Monsieur Schmucke!’ he called out.
Schmucke had signed and had the money in his hand. He came out at Topinard’s call.
‘Look vat I haf for ze little Tcherman girl unt yourself!’
‘Oh, my dear Monsieur Schmucke. You’ve given your money away to monstrous creatures, people who want to rob you of your good name. I took this document to an honest solicitor, a man who knows this Fraisier, and he says you should bring these scoundrels to book by fighting the case. He says they will withdraw… Read it!’
And this imprudent friend handed over the subpoena addressed to Schmucke at the Cité Bordin. Schmucke took the document, read it, saw what abuse was being heaped upon him and, since he understood nothing of the gracious terminology of legal procedure, received a mortal blow. His heart felt as if it were choked with gravel. Topinard put an arm round him to support him, and stumbled along with him to the notary’s street door. He helped the poor German into a passing cab. By now thé latter was suffering the agony that accompanies a serous congestion of the brain. His vision was blurred, though he still had strength enough to hand over the money to Topinard.
He did not succumb to this first attack, but he never recovered his reason. He was unable to make any conscious movement and he ate nothing. He died ten days later without uttering a single complaint, for he had lost the power of speech. He had been tended by Madame Topinard, and he was given a quiet burial beside Pons, through the offices of Topinard; he alone walked behind the hearse of this son of Germany.
Fraisier, now a justice of the peace, is a frequent visitor to the Président’s house and is very much appreciated by the Présidente, who did not approve of his marrying ‘that Tabareau girl’. She has promised a much better match to the artful lawyer to whom she owes, so she avows, not only the acquisition of the Marville grasslands and the ‘cottage’, but also the Président’s election to the Chamber of Deputies, which came about in the General Election of 1846.
No doubt everyone will want to know what became of the heroine of this story – a story which, alas, is only too close to the truth in every detail; a story which is complementary to its predecessor and counterpart Cousin Bette, since it shows that character is the main driving force in human society. You, amateurs, connoisseurs and dealers in the arts, have already guessed that by ‘heroine’ I mean the Pons collection! You only need to listen to a conversation which took place in the salon of the Comte Popinot a few days ago as he was displaying his own magnificent collection to a handful of foreign guests.
‘Monsieur le Comte,’ a distinguished Englishman exclaimed, ‘you have a wonderful collection!’
‘Oh, my lord,’ was the Comte Popinot’s modest reply, ‘in the matter of pictures no one, not merely in Paris, but in the whole of Europe, can hope to vie with an obscure Jew named Elias Magus, a real old maniac, the prince of maniacs in so far as pictures are concerned. He has assembled a hundred or so, fine enough to discourage any amateur from starting a collection. The French government ought to devote seven or eight millions to the purchase of his gallery when that old Croesus dies… As for objets d’art, my collection is fair enough to deserve passing mention…’
‘But how could a man so occupied as you are, one whose basic fortune was so scrupulously earned in the manufacture of…’
‘Of cosmetics,’ Popinot interposed. ‘You mean how could he continue in the cosmetics business…?’
‘I don’t mean that,’ said the Englishman. ‘I mean: how do you find time for collecting? Objets d’art don’t come knocking at one’s door…’
The Vicomtesse Popinot broke in. ‘My father-in-law already had the beginnings of a collection. He loved art and fine pieces of workmanship. But it was I who brought him the most valuable part of his collection.’
‘You, Madame? Young as you are, you cultivated a vice of that sort?’ asked a Russian prince.
Russians are so addicted to imitating others that all the diseases of civilization have spread to their country. Bricabracomania is all the rage in St Petersburg, and thanks to their ingrained spirit of enterprise the Russians are responsible, in this ‘line of goods’, as Rémonencq would call it, for an increase in prices which is likely to render collecting impracticable. This particular prince was now in Paris for the sole purpose of collecting.
‘Prince,’ said the Vicomtesse, ‘these treasures came to me by way of inheritance from a cousin who was very fond of me, one who had spent forty years or more, from 1805 onwards, ransacking every country, and especially Italy, in search of all these masterpieces…’
‘And what was his name?’ the English lord asked.
‘Sylvain Pons,’ replied Président Camusot.
‘He was a charming man,’ said the Présidente, taking up the tale in her soft, fluting tone of voice, ‘full of wit, eccentric, but a man of great feeling. You are admiring, my lord, a fan which belonged to Madame de Pompadour: he brought it to me one morning with a charming bon mot which you will permit me not to repeat…’
r /> And she threw a glance at her daughter.
‘Do tell it to us, Madame la Vicomtesse,’ begged the Russian prince.
‘The bon mot is worthy of the fan…’ replied the Vicomtesse, who was in the habit of repeating it on all occasions. ‘He told my mother that it was high time that the plaything of Vice should become an adornment for Virtue.’
At the word ‘virtue’, the English lord eyed Madame Camusot de Marville with an air of polite incredulity which to so desiccated a woman was extremely flattering.
‘He used to dine at my house three or four times a week,’ she continued. ‘He was so fond of us! We valued him highly, and artists are happy to be with those who appreciate their wit. My husband, moreover, was his only relative. And when this inheritance came – quite unexpectedly – to Monsieur de Marville, Monsieur le Comte preferred to buy the whole collection rather than let it go to auction. We too thought it better to dispose of it in this way: it would have been frightful to break up a treasure which had given such joy to our dear cousin! So Elias Magus valued it. And that, my lord, is how I was able to buy the cottage your uncle built – and I hope you will do us the honour of visiting us there.’
Monsieur Topinard is still cashier in the theatre whose licence Gaudissart passed on to other hands a year ago. But Monsieur Topinard has become sombre, misanthropic and laconic. Rumour has it that he committed some crime; malicious wits at the theatre claim that his moroseness is due to his having married Lolotte. This honest man gives a start whenever he hears the name of Fraisier. Incidentally, is it not strange that the only soul worthy of Pons should be thus relegated to below-stage activities in a boulevard theatre?
Madame Rémonencq is still so impressed by Madame Fontaine’s predictions that she refuses to retire into the country. She lives over her splendid shop in the Boulevard de la Madeleine, and is once more a widow. In fact the Auvergnat, after devising a marriage contract by which all the property was to pass to the surviving partner, had left a liqueur glass full of vitriol within reach of his wife: he was counting on a mishap. His wife, with the best intentions in the world, moved it to another spot, and Rémonencq drank it. Such an end, fit for such a scoundrel, marks a point in favour of Providence, whose intervention in human affairs – so it is said – is overlooked by historians of manners. Perhaps they do this because such intervention is exaggerated in the finales of our present-day dramatists.