Luxury-Gluttony Part 11

"What do you mean, monsieur?"

"Eh! without doubt. My combination with the house of Durand failing, since your refusal would prevent my employing this knave Marcelange, as I desire (you do not wish to know my secrets, so I am forced to keep them), perhaps I should be compelled for certain reasons," added M.

Pascal, p.r.o.nouncing his words slowly, and looking at his victim with a sharp, cold eye, "I say, perhaps I should be compelled--and it would draw the blood from my heart--to demand the repayment of my capital, and withdraw my credit from you."

"Oh, my G.o.d!" exclaimed Dutertre, clasping his hands and looking as pale as a ghost.

"So you see, bad man, in what an atrocious position you put yourself.

Force me to an action which, I repeat to you, would tear my soul--"

"But, monsieur, a moment ago you a.s.sured me that--"

"Zounds! my intention would be to let you keep this wretched capital as long as possible. You pay me the interest with remarkable punctuality, it was perfectly well placed, and, thanks to our terms of liquidation, you would have been free in ten years, and I should have made a good investment in doing you a service."

"Really, monsieur," murmured Dutertre, overwhelmed, "such were your promises, if not written, at least verbal, and the generosity of your offer, the loyalty of your character, all gave me perfect confidence.

G.o.d grant that I may not have to consider myself the most rash, the most stupid man, to have trusted your word!"

"As to that, Dutertre, you can be at peace with yourself; at that period of commercial crisis, at least as terrible as it is to-day, you could not have found anywhere the capital that I offered you at such a moderate rate."

"I know it, monsieur."

"Then you can, and you must, indeed, by sheer force of necessity, accept the condition I put upon this loan."

"But, monsieur," cried Dutertre, with inexpressible alarm, "I appeal to your honour! You have expressly promised me that--"

"Eh, my G.o.d, yes, I promised you, saving the superior force of events; and unfortunately your refusal to give this poor little letter creates an event of stronger force which places me in the painful--the grievous necessity of asking you for repayment of my money."

"But, monsieur, it is an unworthy action that you ask me to do, think of it."

At this moment was heard the sweet ringing laughter of Sophie, who was approaching the parlour.

"Ah, monsieur," said her husband, "not a word of this before my wife, because it may not be your final resolve. I hope that--"

Charles Dutertre could not finish, because Sophie had entered the parlour.

The unhappy man could only make a supplicating gesture to Pascal, who responded to it by a sign of sympathetic intelligence.

CHAPTER VIII.

When Sophie Dutertre entered the parlour, where were seated her husband and M. Pascal, the gracious countenance of the young woman, more flushed than usual, the light throbbing of her bosom, and her moist eyes, all testified to a recent fit of hilarious laughter.

"Ah, ah, Madame Dutertre!" said M. Pascal, cheerfully. "I heard you distinctly; you were laughing like a lunatic."

Then, turning to Dutertre, who was trying to hide his intense distress and to hold on to a last hope, he said:

"How gay happiness makes these young women! Nothing like the sight of them puts joy in the heart, does it, my brave Dutertre?"

"I was laughing in spite of myself, I a.s.sure you, my dear M. Pascal,"

replied Sophie.

"In spite of yourself?" answered our hero. "Why, does some sorrow--"

"Sorrow? Oh, no, thank G.o.d! But I was more disposed to tenderness than gaiety. This dear Antonine, if you only knew her, Charles," added the young woman, with sweet emotion, addressing her husband. "I cannot tell you how she has moved me, what a pure, touching confession she has made to me, for the heart of the poor child was too full, and she could not go away without telling me all."

And a tear of sympathy moistened Sophie's beautiful eyes.

At the name of Antonine, M. Pascal, notwithstanding his great control over himself, started. His thoughts concerning this young girl, for a moment postponed, returned more ardent, more persistent than ever, and as Sophie was wiping her eyes he threw upon her a penetrating glance, trying to divine what he might hope from her, in reference to the plan he meditated.

Sophie soon spoke, addressing her husband:

"But, Charles,--I will relate it all to you, after awhile,--while I was absorbed in thinking of my interview with Antonine, my little Madeleine came to me, and said in her baby language such ridiculous things that I could not keep from bursting into laughter. But, pardon me, M. Pascal, your heart will understand and excuse, I know, all a mother's weakness."

"Do you say that to me," replied Pascal, cordially, "a bachelor,--you say it to me, a good old fellow?"

"That is true," added Sophie, affectionately, "but we love you so much here, you see, that we think you are right to call yourself a good old fellow. Ask Charles if he will contradict my words."

Dutertre replied with a constrained smile, and he had the strength and the courage to restrain his feelings before his wife to such a degree that she, occupied with M. Pascal, had not the least suspicion of her husband's anxiety. So, going to the table and taking up the purse she had embroidered, she presented it to M. Pascal, and said to him, in a voice full of emotion:

"My dear M. Pascal, this purse is the fruit of my evening work,--evenings that I have spent here with my husband, with his excellent father, and with my children. If each one of these little steel beads could speak, all would tell you how many times your name has been p.r.o.nounced among us, with all the affection and grat.i.tude it deserves."

"Ah, thank you, thank you, my dear Madame Dutertre," replied Pascal, "I cannot tell you how much I appreciate this pretty present, this lovely remembrance,--only, you see, it embarra.s.ses me a little."

"How is that?"

"You come to give me something, and I came to ask you something."

"What happiness! Ask, ask, by all means, dear M. Pascal."

Then turning to her husband, with surprise, she said:

"Charles, what are you doing there, seated before that desk?"

"M. Pascal will excuse me. I just recollected that I had neglected to examine some notes relative to important business," replied Dutertre, turning the leaves of some papers, to keep himself in countenance, and to hide from his wife, to whom he had turned his back, the pain which showed itself in his face.

"My dear," said Sophie, in a tone of tender reproach; "can you not lay aside work now and wait until--"

"Madame Dutertre, I shall rebel if you disturb your husband on my account," cried M. Pascal, "do I not know the exactness of business?

Come, come, happy woman that you are, thanks to the indefatigable labour of brave Dutertre, who stands to-day at the head of his business."

"And who has encouraged him in his zeal for work, but you, M. Pascal? If Charles is as you say at the head of his industry, if our future and that of our children is ever a.s.sured, do we not owe it to you?"

"My dear Madame Dutertre, you confuse me so that I shall not know how to ask the little service I expect from you."

"Oh, I forgot it," replied Sophie, smiling, "but we were speaking of more important services that you have rendered us, were we not? But tell us quick, quick,--what is it?" said the young woman, with an eagerness which gave her an additional charm.

"What I am going to tell you will surprise you, perhaps?"