Chapter I.30
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, "Back already?" she said.
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.
"Well," he said, "are you satisfied now?"
She looked at him with an air of profound commiseration, knowing his 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 friend the commissary. Am I any better off?"
She shrugged her shoulders almost imperceptibly.
"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?"
"No, I am not quite mad yet."
"Well, then, could he do more than promise you his most ardent and devoted 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 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."
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 her emotion, "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?"
At the sound of these words, uttered by that voice which was all-powerful over his soul, Maxence looked up.
"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."
"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 not raise my own energy to the level of yours."
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.
"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."
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, "How," said he, "dare you leave your mother and sister alone in a house where some brutal creditor may come in at any moment?"
"I was wrong," said Maxence, who preferred to plead guilty rather than attempt an explanation.
"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."
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.
"I have to speak to you, mother," she said with a singular precipitation, "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 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, "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."
Her mother and her brother were gazing at her with a look of blank amazement. "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." Mme. Favoral raised her hands to heaven. "But this is sheer madness!" she said.
"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."
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, basely insulted by M. Costeclar, I commanded him to withdraw, and, instead of 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 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."
Here she was interrupted by the servant, who, throwing open the parlor-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 mere appearance of the man who now walked in must have been enough to disabuse them.
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.
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.
At this moment, however, he was hardly in possession of all his faculties.
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.
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 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.
Seeing how urgent it was to come to his assistance, "I was expecting you, sir," said Mlle. Gilberte. With this encouragement, he advanced towards Mme. Favoral, and, bowing low, "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."
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 explained to you our singular situation, which, as I had the honor of telling you--hum!--is not strictly in accordance with social usage."
Mlle. Gilberte interrupted him.
"When you came in, general, I was only just beginning to explain the facts to my mother and brother."
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,
"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 which