The Count's Millions

  VII.

  The magistrate who was now approaching the Chalusse mansion in theconcierge's company, exemplified in a remarkable manner all the ideasthat are awakened in one's mind by the grand yet simple title of"Justice of the Peace." He was the very person you would like to thinkof as the family magistrate; as the promoter of friendly feeling; as theguardian of the rights of the absent, the young, and the weak; as thejust arbiter in unfortunate differences between those who are closelyrelated; a sage of wide experience and boundless benevolence; a judgewhose paternal justice dispenses with all pomp and display, and whois allowed by French statutes to hold his court by his own fireside,providing the doors stand open. He was considerably over fifty,tall, and very thin, with bent shoulders. His clothes were ratherold-fashioned in cut, but by no means ridiculous. The expression of hisface was gentleness itself; but it would not have done to presume uponthis gentleness, for his glance was keen and piercing--like the glanceof all who are expert in diving into consciences, and discovering thesecrets hidden there. Moreover, like all men who are accustomed todeliberate in public, his features were expressionless. He could see andhear everything, suspect and understand everything, without letting amuscle of his face move. And yet the habitues of his audience-chamber,and his clerks, pretended that they could always detect the nature ofhis impressions. A ring which he wore upon one of his fingers servedas a barometer for those who knew him. If a difficult case, or one thatembarrassed his conscience, presented itself, his eyes fixed themselvesobstinately upon this ring. If he were satisfied that everything wasright, he looked up again, and began playing with the ring, slipping itup and down between the first and second joint of his finger; but if hewere displeased, he abruptly turned the bezel inside.

  In appearance, he was sufficiently imposing to intimidate even M.Casimir. The proud valet bowed low as the magistrate approached, andwith his heart in his mouth, and in an obsequious voice he said: "It wasI who took the liberty of sending for you, monsieur."

  "Ah!" said the magistrate, who already knew as much about the Hotelde Chalusse, and the events of the past twelve hours, as M. Casimirhimself; for on his way to the house, he had turned Bourigeau inside outlike a glove, by means of a dozen gentle questions.

  "If monsieur wishes I will explain," resumed M. Casimir.

  "Nothing! It is quite unnecessary. Usher us in."

  This "us" astonished the valet; but before they reached the house itwas explained to him. He discovered a man of flourishing and even jovialmien who was walking along in the magistrate's shadow carrying a largeblack portfolio under his arm. This was evidently the clerk. He seemedto be as pleased with his employment as he was with himself; and ashe followed M. Casimir, he examined the adornments of the mansion, themosaics in the vestibule, the statuary and the frescoed walls with anappraiser's eye. Perhaps he was calculating how many years' salary itwould require to pay for the decorating of this one staircase.

  On the threshold of the death room the magistrate paused. There had beensome change during M. Casimir's absence. The doctor had left. The bedhad been rearranged, and several candles were burning on a table coveredwith a white cloth. Madame Leon had gone to her own room, accompanied bytwo servants, to fetch a vessel of holy water and a branch of witheredpalm. She was now engaged in repeating the prayers for the dead, pausingfrom time to time to dip the palm branch in the holy water, and sprinklethe bed. Both windows had been opened in spite of the cold. On themarble hearth stood a chafing-dish full of embers from which rose spiralrings of smoke, filling the room with a pungent odor as a servant pouredsome vinegar and sugar on to the coals.

  As the magistrate appeared, every one rose up. Then, after bestowingprolonged scrutiny upon the room and its occupants, he respectfullyremoved his hat, and walked in. "Why are so many people here?" heinquired.

  "I suggested that they should remain," replied M. Casimir, "because--"

  "You are--suspicious," interrupted the magistrate.

  His clerk had already drawn a pen and some paper from his portfolio, andwas engaged in reading the decision, rendered by the magistrate at therequest of one Bourigeau, and in virtue of which, seals were about tobe affixed to the deceased nobleman's personal effects. Since themagistrate had entered the room, his eyes had not once wandered fromMademoiselle Marguerite, who was standing near the fireplace, lookingpale but composed. At last he approached her, and in a tone of deepsympathy: "Are you Mademoiselle Marguerite?" he asked.

  She raised her clear eyes, rendered more beautiful than ever, by thetears that trembled on her lashes, and in a faltering voice, replied:"Yes, monsieur."

  "Are you a relative? Are you connected in any way with the Count deChalusse? Have you any right to his property?"

  "No, monsieur."

  "Excuse me, mademoiselle, but these questions are indispensable. Whointrusted you to the care of M. de Chalusse, and by what right? Was ityour father or your mother?"

  "I have neither father nor mother, monsieur. I am alone in theworld--utterly alone."

  The magistrate glanced keenly round the room. "Ah! I understand," saidhe, at last; "advantage has been taken of your isolation to treat youwith disrespect, to insult you, perhaps."

  Every head drooped, and M. Casimir bitterly regretted that he had notremained below in the courtyard. Mademoiselle Marguerite looked at themagistrate in astonishment, for she was amazed by his penetration. Shewas ignorant of his conversation with Bourigeau on the road, and did notknow that through the concierge's ridiculous statements and accusations,the magistrate had succeeded in discovering at least a portion of thetruth.

  "I shall have the honor of asking for a few moments' conversation withyou presently, mademoiselle," he said. "But first, one question. I amtold that the Count de Chalusse entertained a very lively affection foryou. Are you sure that he has not taken care to provide for your future?Are you sure that he has not left a will?"

  The girl shook her head. "He made one in my favor some time ago," shereplied. "I saw it; he gave it to me to read; but it was destroyed afortnight after my arrival here, and in compliance with my request."

  Madame Leon had hitherto been dumb with fear, but, conqueringher weakness, she now decided to draw near and take part in theconversation. "How can you say that, my dear young lady?" she exclaimed."You know that the count--God rest his soul!--was an extremely cautiousman. I am certain that there is a will somewhere."

  The magistrate's eyes were fixed on his ring. "It would be well to look,perhaps, before affixing the seals. You have a right to require this;so, if you wish----"

  But she made no reply.

  "Oh, yes!" insisted Madame Leon; "pray look, monsieur."

  "But where should we be likely to find a will?"

  "Certainly in this room--in this escritoire, or in one of the deceasedcount's cabinets."

  The magistrate had learnt the story of the key from Bourigeau, but allthe same he asked: "Where is the key to this escritoire?"

  "Alas! monsieur," replied Mademoiselle Marguerite, "I broke it lastnight when M. de Chalusse was brought home unconscious. I hoped to avertwhat has, nevertheless, happened. Besides, I knew that his escritoirecontained something over two millions in gold and bank-notes."

  Two millions--there! The occupants of the room stood aghast. Eventhe clerk was so startled that he let a blot fall upon his paper. Twomillions! The magistrate was evidently reflecting. "Hum!" he murmured,meditatively. Then, as if deciding on his course, he exclaimed:

  "Let a locksmith be sent for."

  A servant went in search of one; and while they were waiting for hisreturn, the magistrate sat down beside his clerk and talked to him in alow voice. At last the locksmith appeared, with his bag of toolshanging over his shoulder, and set to work at once. He found his taska difficult one. His pick-locks would not catch, and he was talking offiling the bolt, when, by chance, he found the joint, and the door flewopen. But the escritoire was empty. There were only a few papers, and abottle about three-quarters full of a crimson liquid on the she
lf. HadM. de Chalusse rose and shook off his winding sheet, the consternationwould not have been greater. The same instinctive fear thrilled thehearts of everybody present. An enormous fortune had disappeared. Thesame suspicions would rest upon them all. And each servant already sawhimself arrested, imprisoned, and dragged before a law court.

  However, anger speedily followed bewilderment, and a furious clamorarose. "A robbery has been committed!" cried the servants, in concert."Mademoiselle had the key. It is wrong to suspect the innocent!"

  Revolting as this exhibition was, it did not modify the magistrate'scalmness. He had witnessed too many such scenes in the course ofhis career, and, at least, a score of times he had been compelled tointerpose between children who had come to blows over their inheritancebefore their father's body was even cold. "Silence!" he commandedsternly. And as the tumult did not cease, as the servants continuedto cry, "The thief must be found. We shall have no difficulty indiscovering the culprit," the magistrate exclaimed, still moreimperiously: "Another word, and you all leave the room."

  They were silenced; but there was a mute eloquence about their looks andgestures which it was impossible to misunderstand. Every eye was fixedupon Mademoiselle Marguerite with an almost ferocious expression. Sheknew it only too well; but, sublime in her energy, she stood, with herhead proudly erect, facing the storm, and disdaining to answer thesevile imputations. However she had a protector near by--the magistrate inperson. "If this treasure has been diverted from the inheritance," saidhe, "the thief will be discovered and punished. But I wish to have onepoint explained--who said that Mademoiselle Marguerite had the key ofthe escritoire?"

  "I did," replied a footman. "I was in the dining-room yesterday morningwhen the count gave it to her."

  "For what purpose did he give it to her?"

  "That she might obtain this vial--I recognized it at once. She broughtit down to him."

  "Did she return the key?"

  "Yes; she gave it to him when she handed him the vial, and I saw him putit in his pocket."

  The magistrate pointed to the bottle which was standing on the shelf."Then the count himself must have put the vial back in its place," saidhe. "Further comment is unnecessary; for, if the money had then beenmissing, he could not have failed to discover the fact." No one hadany reply to make to this quiet defence, which was, at the same time,a complete vindication. "And, besides," continued the magistrate, "whotold you that this immense sum would be found here? Did you know it?Which one of you knew it?" And as nobody still ventured any remark,he added in an even more severe tone, and without seeming to noticeMademoiselle Marguerite's look of gratitude, "It is by no means a proofof honesty to be so extremely suspicious. Would it not have been easierto suppose that the deceased had placed the money somewhere else, andthat it will yet be found?"

  The clerk had been even less disturbed than the magistrate. He also wasblase, having witnessed too many of those frightful and shameless dramaswhich are enacted at a dead man's bedside, to be surprised at anything.If he had deigned to glance at the escritoire, it was only becausehe was curious to see how small a space would suffice to contain twomillions; and then he had begun to calculate how many years he wouldbe obliged to remain a clerk before he could succeed in amassing sucha fabulous sum. However, hearing his superior express the intentionof continuing the search for the will, and the missing treasure, heabruptly abandoned his calculation, and exclaimed, "Then, I suppose, Ican commence my report, monsieur?"

  "Yes," replied the magistrate, "write as follows:" And in a monotonousvoice he began to dictate the prescribed formula, an unnecessaryproceeding, for the clerk was quite as familiar with it as themagistrate himself:--"On the 16th of October, 186-, at nine o'clockin the morning, in compliance with the request of the servants of thedeceased Louis-Henri-Raymond de Durtal, Count de Chalusse, and in theinterest of his presumptive heirs, and all others connected with him,and in accordance with the requirements of clauses 819 (Code Napoleon)and 909 (Code of Procedure), we, justice of the peace, accompanied byour clerk, visited the residence of the deceased aforesaid, in theRue de Courcelles, where, having entered a bedroom opening on to thecourtyard, and lighted by two windows looking toward the south, we foundthe body of the deceased aforesaid, lying on his bed, and covered with asheet. In this room were----" He paused in his dictation, and addressingthe clerk, "Take down the names of all present," said he. "That willrequire some little time, and, meanwhile, I will continue my search."

  They had, in fact, only examined the shelf of the escritoire, and thedrawers were still to be inspected. In the first which he opened, themagistrate found ample proofs of the accuracy of the information whichhad been furnished him by Mademoiselle Marguerite. The drawer containeda memorandum which established the fact that the Credit Foncier had lentM. de Chalusse the sum of eight hundred and fifty thousand francs, whichhad been remitted to him on the Saturday preceding his death. Besidethis document lay a second memorandum, signed by a stockbroker namedPell, setting forth that the latter had sold for the count securities ofvarious descriptions to the amount of fourteen hundred and twenty-threethousand francs, which sum had been paid to the count on the precedingTuesday, partly in bank-notes and partly in gold. It was thus evidentthat M. de Chalusse had received a grand total of two million twohundred and seventy-three thousand francs within the past six days.

  In the drawer which was next opened, the magistrate only found a numberof deeds, bonds, leases, and mortgages; but they proved that publicrumor, far from exaggerating the figures of the count's fortune,had diminished it, and this made it difficult to explain why he hadcontracted a loan. The third and last drawer contained twenty-eightthousand francs, in packages of twenty-franc pieces. Finally, in a smallcasket, the magistrate found a packet of letters, yellow with age andbound together with a broad piece of blue velvet; as well as three orfour withered bouquets, and a woman's glove, which had been worn by ahand of marvellous smallness. These were evidently the relics of somegreat passion of many years before; and the magistrate looked at themfor a moment with a sigh.

  His own interest prevented him from noticing Mademoiselle Marguerite'sagitation. She had almost fainted on perceiving these souvenirs of thecount's past life so suddenly exhumed. However, the examination ofthe escritoire being over, and the clerk having completed his task ofrecording the names of all the servants, the magistrate said, in a loudvoice, "I shall now proceed to affix the seals; but, before doing so, Ishall take a portion of the money found in this desk, and set it apartfor the expenses of the household, in accordance with the law. Who willtake charge of this money?"

  "Oh, not I!" exclaimed Madame Leon.

  "I will take charge of it," said M. Casimir.

  "Then here are eight thousand francs, for which you will be heldaccountable."

  M. Casimir being a prudent man, counted the money himself, and afterdoing so, "Who will attend to the count's obsequies?" he inquired.

  "You, and without loss of time."

  Proud of his new importance, the valet hastily left the room, hisself-complacency increased by the thought that he was to breakfast withM. Isidore Fortunat, and would afterward share a fat commission withVictor Chupin.

  However, the magistrate had already resumed his dictation: "And at thismoment we have affixed bands of white tape, sealed at either end withred wax, bearing the impress of our seal as justice of the peace, towit: In the aforesaid chamber of the deceased: First, A band of tape,covering the keyhole of the lock of the escritoire, which had beenpreviously opened by a locksmith summoned by us, and closed again by thesaid locksmith----" And so the magistrate and his clerk went fromone piece of furniture to another, duly specifying in the report eachinstance in which the seals were affixed.

  From the count's bedroom they passed into his study, followed byMademoiselle Marguerite, Madame Leon, and the servants. By noon everyarticle of furniture in which M. de Chalusse would have been likelyto deposit his valuables or a will, had been searched, and nothing,absolutely nothing, had been foun
d. The magistrate had pursued hisinvestigation with the feverish energy which the most self-possessedof men are apt to display under such circumstances, especially wheninfluenced by the conviction that the object they are seeking issomewhere within their reach, perhaps under their very hand. Indeed, hewas persuaded--he was sure--he would, in fact, have sworn that the Countde Chalusse had taken all the precautions natural in childless men,who have no near relatives to inherit their fortune, or who have placedtheir interest and affections beyond their family circle. And when hewas obliged to abandon his search, his gesture indicated anger ratherthan discouragement; for apparent evidence had not shaken his convictionin the least. So he stood motionless, with his eyes riveted on his ring,as if waiting some miraculous inspiration from it. "For the count'sonly fault, I am sure, was in being too cautious," he muttered. "This isfrequently the case, and it would be quite in keeping with the characterof this man, judging from what I know of him."

  Madame Leon lifted her hands to heaven. "Ah, yes! such was, indeed, hisnature," she remarked, approvingly. "Never, no never, have I seen sucha suspicious and distrustful person as he was. Not in reference tomoney--no, indeed--for he left that lying about everywhere; but abouthis papers. He locked them up with the greatest care, as if he fearedthat some terrible secret might evaporate from them. It was a mania withhim. If he had a letter to write, he barricaded his door, as if he wereabout to commit some horrible crime. More than once have I seen him----"The words died away on her lips, and she remained motionless andabashed, like a person who has just escaped some great peril. Oneword more, and involuntarily, without even knowing it, she wouldhave confessed her besetting sin, which was listening at, and peeringthrough, the keyholes of the doors that were closed against her. Still,she deluded herself with the belief that this slight indiscretion of heroverready tongue had escaped the magistrate's notice.

  He certainly did not seem to be conscious of it, for he was givinghis attention entirely to Mademoiselle Marguerite, who seemed to haveregained the cold reserve and melancholy resignation habitual to her."You see, mademoiselle," he remarked, "that I have done all that isin my power to do. We must now leave the search to chance, and to theperson who takes the inventory. Who knows what surprise may be in storefor us in this immense house, of which we have only explored threerooms?"

  She shook her head gently and replied: "I can never be sufficientlygrateful for your kindness, monsieur, and for the great service yourendered me in crushing that infamous accusation. As regards the rest, Ihave never expected anything--I do not expect anything now."

  She believed what she said, and her tone of voice proved this sounmistakably that the magistrate was surprised and somewhat disturbed."Come, come, my young lady," he said, with almost paternal kindness ofmanner, "you ought not to despond. Still, you must have certain reasonsfor speaking as you do; and as I am free for an hour, we are going tohave a plain talk, as if we were father and daughter."

  On hearing these words, the clerk rose with a cloud on his jovialface. He impatiently jingled his bunch of keys; for as the seals aresuccessively affixed, each key is confided to the clerk, to remain inhis hands until the seals are removed.

  "I understand," said the magistrate. "Your stomach, which is moreexacting in its demands than mine, is not satisfied with a cup ofchocolate till dinner-time. So, go and get your lunch; on your return,you will find me here. You may now conclude the report, and requestthese parties to sign it."

  Urged on by hunger, the clerk hastily mumbled over the remainder of theformula, called all the names that he had inserted in the report, andeach of the servants advanced in turn, signed his or her name, or madea cross, and then retired. Madame Leon read in the judge's face that shealso was expected to withdraw; and she was reluctantly leaving the room,when Mademoiselle Marguerite detained her to ask: "Are you quite surethat nothing has come for me to-day?"

  "Nothing, mademoiselle; I went in person to inquire of the concierge."

  "Did you post my letter last night?"

  "Oh! my dear young lady, can you doubt it?"

  The young girl stifled a sigh, and then, with a gesture of dismissal,she remarked, "M. de Fondege must be sent for."

  "The General?"

  "Yes."

  "I will send for him at once," replied the housekeeper; and thereuponshe left the room, closing the door behind her with a vicious slam.