Other People's Money

  XXX

  Two o'clock struck as Mlle. Lucienne and Maxence left the officeof the commissary of police, she pensive and agitated, he gloomy andirritated. They reached the Hotel des Folies without exchanging aword. Mme. Fortin was again at the door, speechifying in the midstof a group with indefatigable volubility. Indeed, it was a perfectgodsend for her, the fact of lodging the son of that cashier whohad 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,

  "Back already?" she said.

  But they made no answer; and, entering the narrow corridor, theyhurried to their fourth story. As he entered his room, Maxencethrew his hat upon his bed with a gesture of impatience; and, afterwalking up and down for a moment, he returned to plant himself infront of Mlle. Lucienne.

  "Well," he said, "are you satisfied now?"

  She looked at him with an air of profound commiseration, knowinghis weakness too well to be angry at his injustice.

  "Of what should I be satisfied?" she asked gently.

  "I have done what you wished me to."

  "You did what reason dictated, my friend."

  "Very well: we won't quarrel about words. I have seen your friendthe commissary. Am I any better off?"

  She shrugged her shoulders almost imperceptibly.

  "What did you expect of him, then?" she asked. "Did you think thathe could undo what is done? Did you suppose, that, by the solepower of his will, he would make up the deficit in the MutualCredit's cash, and rehabilitate your father?"

  "No, I am not quite mad yet."

  "Well, then, could he do more than promise you his most ardent anddevoted co-operation?"

  But he did not allow her to proceed.

  "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 pretendsthat I may rely on him, because to serve me is to serve you. Whatdoes that mean? What connection is there between your situation andmine, between your enemies and those of my father? And I--I repliedto all his questions like a simpleton. Poor fool! But the man whodrowns catches at straws; and I am drowning, I am sinking, I amfoundering."

  He sank upon a chair, and, hiding his face in his hands,

  "Ah, how I do suffer!" he groaned.

  Mlle. Lucienne approached him, and in a severe tone, despite heremotion,

  "Are you, then, such a coward?" she uttered. "What! at the firstmisfortune that strikes you,--and this is the first real misfortuneof your life, Maxence,--you despair. An obstacle rises, and,instead of gathering all your energy to overcome it, you sit downand weep like a woman. Who, then, is to inspire courage in yourmother and in your sister, if you give up so?"

  At the sound of these words, uttered by that voice which wasall-powerful over his soul, Maxence looked up.

  "I thank you, my friend," he said. "I thank you for reminding meof what I owe to my mother and sister. Poor women! They arewondering, doubtless, what has become of me."

  "You must return to them," interrupted the girl.

  He got up resolutely.

  "I will," he replied. "I should be unworthy of you if I could notraise my own energy to the level of yours."

  And, having pressed her hand, he left. But it was not by the usualroute that he reached the Rue St. Gilles. He made a long detour, soas not to meet any of his acquaintances.

  "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 theparlor, with Mlle. Gilberte and M. Chapelain."

  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, availinghimself of the privileges of his age and his old intimacy,

  "How," said he, "dare you leave your mother and sister alone in ahouse where some brutal creditor may come in at any moment?"

  "I was wrong," said Maxence, who preferred to plead guilty ratherthan attempt an explanation.

  "Don't do it again then," resumed M. Chapelain. "I was waiting foryou to say that I was unable to see M. de Thaller, and that I do notcare to face once more the impudence of his valets. You will,therefore, have to take back the fifteen thousand francs he hadbrought to your father. Place them in his own hands; and don'tgive them up without a receipt."

  After some further recommendations, he went off, leaving Mme. Favoralalone at last with her children. She was about to call Maxence toaccount for his absence, when Mlle. Gilberte interrupted her.

  "I have to speak to you, mother," she said with a singularprecipitation, "and to you also, brother."

  And at once she began telling them of M. Costeclar's strange visit,his inconceivable audacity, and his offensive declarations.

  Maxence was fairly stamping with rage.

  "And I was not here," he exclaimed, "to put him out of the house!"

  But another was there; and this was just what Mlle. Gilberte wishedto come to. But the avowal was difficult, painful even; and it wasnot without some degree of confusion that she resumed at last,

  "You have suspected for a long time, mother, that I was hidingsomething from you. When you questioned me, I lied; not that I hadany thing to blush for, but because I feared for you my father'sanger."

  Her mother and her brother were gazing at her with a look of blankamazement.

  "Yes, I had a secret," she continued. "Boldly, without consultingany one, trusting the sole inspirations of my heart, I had engagedmy life to a stranger: I had selected the man whose wife I wishedto be."

  Mme. Favoral raised her hands to heaven.

  "But this is sheer madness!" she said.

  "Unfortunately," went on the girl, "between that man, my affiancedhusband before God, and myself, rose a terrible obstacle. He waspoor: he thought my father very rich; and he had asked me a delayof three years to conquer a fortune which might enable him to aspireto my hand."

  She stopped: all the blood in her veins was rushing to her face.

  "This morning," she said, "at the news of our disaster, he came . . ."

  "Here?" interrupted Maxence.

  "Yes, brother, here. He arrived at the very moment, when, baselyinsulted by M. Costeclar, I commanded him to withdraw, and, insteadof going, he was walking towards me with outstretched arms."

  "He dared to penetrate here!" murmured Mme. Favoral.

  "Yes, mother: he came in just in time to seize M. Costeclar by hiscoat-collar, and to throw him at my feet, livid with fear, andbegging for mercy. He came, notwithstanding the terrible calamitythat has befallen us. Notwithstanding ruin, and notwithstandingshame, he came to offer me his name, and to tell me, that, in thecourse of the day, he would send a friend of his family to appriseyou of his intentions."

  Here she was interrupted by the servant, who, throwing open theparlor-door, announced,

  "The Count de Villegre."

  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 mereappearance of the man who now walked in must have been enough todisabuse them.

  He was of a rather formidable aspect, with his military bearing, hisbluff manners, his huge white mustache, and the deep scar acrosshis forehead.

  But in order to be re-assured, and to feel confident, it was enoughto look at his broad face, at once energetic and debonair, his cleareye, in which shone the loyalty of his soul, and his thick red lips,which had never opened to utter an untruth.

  At this moment, however, he was hardly in possession of all hisfaculties.

  That valiant man, that old soldier, was timid; and he would havefelt much more at ease under the fire of a battery than in thathumble parlor in the Rue St. Gilles, under the uneasy glance ofMaxence and Mme. Favoral.

  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.
/>
  Eloquence was not his forte. He had prepared himself well inadvance; but though he kept coughing: hum! broum! though he keptrunning his finger around his shirt-collar to facilitate hisdelivery, the beginning of his speech stuck in his throat.

  Seeing how urgent it was to come to his assistance,

  "I was expecting you, sir," said Mlle. Gilberte. With thisencouragement, he advanced towards Mme. Favoral, and, bowing low,

  "I see that my presence surprises you, madame," he began; "and Imust confess that--hum!--it does not surprise me less than it doesyou. 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 Countde Villegre."

  Maxence had brought him a chair.

  "I am ready to hear you, sir," said Mme. Favoral. He sat down, and,with a further effort,

  "I suppose, madame," he resumed, "that your daughter has explainedto you our singular situation, which, as I had the honor of tellingyou--hum!--is not strictly in accordance with social usage."

  Mlle. Gilberte interrupted him.

  "When you came in, general, I was only just beginning to explainthe facts to my mother and brother."

  The old soldier made a gesture, and a face which showed plainly thathe did not much relish the prospect of a somewhat difficultexplanation--broum! Nevertheless, making up his mind bravely,

  "It is very simple," he said: "I come in behalf of M. de Tregars."

  Maxence fairly bounced upon his chair. That was the very name whichhe had just heard mentioned by the commissary of police.

  "Tregars!" he repeated in a tone of immense surprise.

  "Yes," said M. de Villegre. "Do you know him, by chance?"

  "No, sir, no!"

  "Marius de Tregars is the son of the most honest man I ever knew, ofthe best friend I ever had,--of the Marquis de Tregars, in a word,who died of grief a few years ago, after--hum!--some quiteinexplicable--broum!--reverses of fortune. Marius could not bedearer to me, if he were my own son. He has lost his parents: Ihave no relatives; and I have transferred to him all the feelingsof affection which still remained at the bottom of my old heart.

  "And I can say that never was a man more worthy of affection. Iknow him. To the most legitimate pride and the most scrupulousintegrity, he unites a keen and supple mind, and wit enough to getthe better of the toughest rascal. He has no fortune for the reasonthat--hum!--he gave up all he had to certain pretended creditorsof 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."

  But, as if feeling that he was treading on dangerous ground, theCount de Villegre stopped short, and, after taking breath for amoment,

  "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."

  Mme. Favoral made a gesture of protest,

  "Allow me, sir," she began.

  But he interrupted her.

  "I understand you, madame," he resumed. "You wonder how M. deTregars can have seen your daughter, have known her, and haveappreciated her, without your seeing or hearing any thing of it.Nothing is more simple, and, if I may venture to say--hum!--morenatural."

  And the worthy old soldier began to explain to Mme. Favoral themeetings in the Place-Royale, his conversations with Marius,intended really for Mlle. Gilberte, and the part he had consentedto play in this little comedy. But he became embarrassed in hissentences, he multiplied his hum! and his broum! in the mostalarming manner; and his explanations explained nothing.

  Mlle. Gilberte took pity on him; and, kindly interrupting him, sheherself told her story, and that of Marius.

  She told the pledge they had exchanged, how they had seen each othertwice, and how they constantly heard of each other through the veryinnocent and very unconscious Signor Gismondo Pulei.

  Maxence and Mme. Favoral were dumbfounded. They would haveabsolutely refused to believe such a story, had it not been told byMlle. Gilberte herself.

  "Ah, my dear sister!" thought Maxence, "who could have suspectedsuch a thing, seeing you always so calm and so meek!"

  "Is it possible," Mme. Favoral was saying to herself; "that I canhave been so blind and so deaf?"

  As to the Count de Villegre, he would have tried in vain to expressthe gratitude he felt towards Mlle. Gilberte for having spared himthese difficult explanations.

  "I could not have done half as well myself, by the eternal!" hethought, like a man who has no illusions on his own account.

  But, as soon as she had done, addressing himself to Mme. Favoral,

  "Now, madame," he said, "you know all; and you will understandthat the irreparable disaster that strikes you has removed theonly obstacle which had hitherto stood in the way of Marius."

  He rose, and in a solemn tone, without any hum or broum, this time,

  "I have the honor, madame," he uttered, "to solicit the hand of Mlle.Gilberte, your daughter, for my friend Yves-Marius de Genost, Marquisde Tregars."

  A profound silence followed this speech. But this silence the Countde Villegre doubtless interpreted in his own favor; for, stepping tothe parlor-door, he opened it, and called, "Marius!"

  Marius de Tregars had foreseen all that had just taken place, andhad so informed the Count de Villegre in advance.

  Being given Mme. Favoral's disposition, he knew what could beexpected of her; and he had his own reasons to fear nothing fromMaxence. And, if he mistrusted somewhat the diplomatic talentsof his ambassador, he relied absolutely upon Mlle. Gilberte's energy.

  And so confident was he of the correctness of his calculations, thathe had insisted upon accompanying his old friend, so as to be onhand at the critical moment.

  When the servant had opened the door to them, he had ordered her tointroduce M. de Villegre, stating that he would himself wait in thedining-room. This arrangement had not seemed entirely natural tothe girl; but so many strange things had happened in the house forthe past twenty-four hours, that she was prepared for any thing.

  Besides recognizing Marius as the gentleman who had had a violentaltercation in the morning with M. Costeclar, she did as herequested, and, leaving him alone in the dining-room, went toattend to her duties.

  He had taken a seat, impassive in appearance, but in realityagitated by that internal trepidation of which the strongest mencannot free themselves in the decisive moments of their life.

  To a certain extent, the prospects of his whole life were to bedecided on the other side of that door which had just closed behindthe Count de Villegre. To the success of his love, other interestswere united, which required immediate success.

  And, counting the seconds by the beatings of his heart,

  "How very slow they are!" he thought.

  And so, when the door opened at last, and his old friend called him,he jumped to his feet, and collecting all his coolness andself-possession, he walked in.

  Maxence had risen to receive him; but, when he saw him, he steppedback, his eyes glaring in utter surprise.

  "Ah, great heavens!" he muttered in a smothered voice.

  But M. de Tregars seemed not to notice his stupor. Quiteself-possessed, notwithstanding his emotion, he cast a rapid glanceover the Count de Villegre, Mme. Favoral and Mlle. Gilberte. Attheir attitude, and at the expression of their countenance, heeasily guessed the point to which things had come.

  And, advancing towards Mme. Favoral, he bowed with an amount ofrespect which was certainly not put on.

  "You have heard the Count de Villegre, madame," he said in aslightly altered tone of voice. "I am awaiting my fate."

  The poor woman had never before in all her life been so fearfullyperplexed. All these events, which succeeded each other so rapidly,had broken the feeble springs of her soul. She was utterly incapableof collecting her thoughts, o
r of taking a determination.

  "At this moment, sir," she stammered, taken unawares, "it would beimpossible for me to answer you. Grant me a few days for reflection.We have some old friends whom I ought to consult."

  But Maxence, who had got over his stupor, interrupted her.

  "Friends, mother!" he exclaimed. "And who are they? People in ourposition have no friends. What! when we are perishing, a man ofheart holds out his hand to us, and you ask to reflect? To mysister, who bears a name henceforth disgraced, the Marquis deTregars offers his name, and you think of consulting."

  The poor woman was shaking her head.

  "I am not the mistress, my son," she murmured; "and your father--"

  "My father!" interrupted the young man,--"my father! What rightscan 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,

  "Ah! take her, sir," he uttered. "Never, whatever she may do, willshe acquit the debt of eternal gratitude which we this day contracttowards you."

  A tremor that shook their frames, a long look which they exchanged,betrayed alone the feelings of Marius and Mlle. Gilberte. They hadof life a too cruel experience not to mistrust their joy.

  Returning to Mme. Favoral,

  "You do not understand, madame," he went on, "why I should haveselected for such a step the very moment when an irreparable calamitybefalls you. One word will explain all. Being in a position toserve you, I wished to acquire the right of doing so."

  Fixing upon him a look in which the gloomiest despair could be read,

  "Alas!" stammered the poor woman, "what can you do for me, sir? Mylife is ended. I have but one wish left,--that of knowing wheremy husband is hid. It is not for me to judge him. He has not givenme the happiness which I had, perhaps, the right to expect; but heis my husband, he is unhappy: my duty is to join him wherever he maybe, and to share his sufferings."

  She was interrupted by the servant, who was calling her at theparlor-door, "Madame, madame!"

  "What is the matter?" inquired Maxence.

  "I must speak to madame at once."

  Making an effort to rise and walk, Mme. Favoral went out. She wasgone but a minute; and, when she returned, her agitation had furtherincreased. "It is the hand of Providence, perhaps," she said. Theothers were all looking at her anxiously. She took a seat, and,addressing herself more especially to M. de Tregars,

  "This is what happens," she said in a feeble voice. "M. Favoralwas 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, heforgot to change again, and went off with the coat he had on. Theother remained hanging in the room, where the girl took it just nowto brush it, and put it away; and this portfolio, which my husbandalways carries with him, fell from its pocket."

  It was an old Russia leather portfolio, which had once been red, butwhich time and use had turned black. It was full of papers.

  "Perhaps, indeed," exclaimed Maxence, "we may find some informationthere."

  He opened it, and had already taken out three-fourths of its contentswithout finding any thing of any consequence, when suddenly heuttered an exclamation. He had just opened an anonymous note,evidently written in a disguised hand, and at one glance had read,

  "I cannot understand your negligence. You should get through thatVan Klopen matter. There is the danger."

  "What is that note?" inquired M. de Tregars.

  Maxence handed it to him.

  "See!" said he, "but you will not understand the immense interestit has for me."

  But having read it,

  "You are mistaken," said Marius. "I understand perfectly; and I'llprove it to you."

  The next moment, Maxence took out of the portfolio, and read aloud,the following bill, dated two days before.

  "Sold to ---- two leather trunks with safety locks at 220 francs each;say, francs 440."

  M. de Tregars started.

  "At last," he said, "here is doubtless one end of the thread whichwill guide us to the truth through this labyrinth of iniquities."

  And, tapping gently on Maxence's shoulders,

  "We must talk," he said, "and at length. To-morrow, before you goto M. de Thaller's with his fifteen thousand francs, call and seeme: I shall expect you. We are now engaged upon a common work; andsomething tells me, that, before long, we shall know what has becomeof the Mutual Credit's millions."