Luxury-Gluttony Part 33

"M. Pascal is relentless."

"That may be, but what is your position toward him?"

"A year ago my husband found himself, like so many other manufacturers, in an embarra.s.sed position. M. Pascal offered his services to us.

Charles, deceived by fair appearances, accepted. It would be too long to explain to you by what a train of affairs Charles, trusting the promises of M. Pascal, soon discovered that he was absolutely dependent on this man, who could any day recall more than a hundred thousand crowns,--that is to say, could ruin our business and plunge us in misery. At last that day has come, and M. Pascal, strong in this terrible power, places my husband and myself in the alternative of submitting to this ruin or consenting to two unworthy deeds he imposes upon us."

"The wretch! The infamous wretch!"

"Yesterday, when you arrived, he had just made known to us his intentions. We answered according to our hearts and our honour; he swore to revenge himself on us and to-day he has kept his word. We are lost, I tell you; he claims, too, that by reason of some authority, he will put Charles in prison temporarily. My idea, above everything else, is to save my husband from prison, but he refuses to escape, saying it is only a decoy, that he has nothing to fear, and that he--"

Madeleine, who had remained silent and thoughtful for some time, again interrupted her friend, and said to her:

"What would be necessary to free you from all fear of M. Pascal?"

"To reimburse him."

"And what does your husband owe him?"

"More than a hundred thousand crowns, our factory as security, but once deprived of our property we would possess nothing in the world. My husband would be declared a bankrupt, and our future would be hopeless."

"And is there absolutely no other way of escaping M. Pascal than by immediate repayment?"

"There is one on which my husband had always relied, resting on the word of this wicked man."

"And what is that way?"

"To give Charles ten years to pay off the debt."

"And suppose you had that a.s.surance?"

"Alas! we would be saved, but M. Pascal wishes to have his revenge, and he will never consent to give us any means of salvation."

This sad conversation was interrupted by Antonine, who, beaming with joy, ran into the room, saying:

"Oh, Madeleine! come! come!"

"What is it, my child? Some happy news, I know it by your radiant countenance."

"Ah, dear friends," said the young girl, "all my fear is that I will not be able to bear so much happiness! My uncle and the prince consent to all, and the prince,--oh, he was so kind, so fatherly to me, for he wanted me to take part in his conversation with my uncle, and he even asked my pardon for the grief he had caused me in opposing our marriage.

'My only excuse,' said he, with the greatest tenderness, 'is, Mlle.

Antonine, that I did not know you. Madame Marquise de Miranda began my conversion, and you have finished it, and since she is here, you say, have the goodness to let her know that I would like to thank her before you for having put me in the way of repairing the wrong I have done you.' Were not those n.o.ble, touching words!" added the young girl. "Oh, come, Madeleine, come, my benefactress, my sister, my mother, you to whom Frantz and I will owe our happiness. And you come too, Sophie,"

added Antonine, taking Madame Dutertre by the hand, "are you not also a sharer in my happiness as you have been in my confidence and my despair?"

"My dear child," said Madame Dutertre, trying to disguise her trouble, "I need not tell you that I share your joy; but the presence of the prince would embarra.s.s me, and besides, as I was telling Madeleine just now, I must return home. I cannot leave my children alone too long.

Come, embrace me, Antonine, your happiness is a.s.sured; that thought will be sweet to me, and if I have some sorrow, believe me, it will help me to bear it. Good-bye. If you have anything new to tell me, come to see me to-morrow morning."

"Sophie," said the marquise, in a low but firm voice to her friend, "courage and hope! Do not let your husband go away; wait for me at your house to-morrow, all the morning."

"What do you mean?"

"I cannot explain more, only let Antonine's experience give you a little confidence. This morning she was in despair, now you see her radiant with happiness."

"Yes, thanks to you."

"Come, now, embrace me once more; courage and hope."

Then, approaching Antonine, Madeleine said to her:

"Now, my child, go back to the prince."

The young girl and the marquise left Madame Dutertre, who, yielding in spite of herself to the conviction which seemed to ring from Madeleine's words, returned to her dwelling with a ray of hope. The prince waited for Madeleine in the parlour of President Hubert; he saluted her respectfully, and said to her, with that ceremonious formality which Antonine's presence imposed:

"I had it in my heart, marquise, to thank you for the great service you have rendered me. You have put it in my power to appreciate Mlle. Hubert as she deserves to be; the happiness of my G.o.dson Frantz is for ever a.s.sured. I have agreed with M. President Hubert, who willingly consents to it, that to-morrow morning the betrothal of Frantz and Mlle. Hubert will take place according to the German custom, that is to say, that I and President Hubert will sign, under penalty of perjury and infidelity, the contract of marriage which Frantz and mademoiselle will sign under the same conditions."

"Since you have said to Antonine, monseigneur, that I have put you in the way of truth, Antonine is under obligation to prove to you all the good that I have told you of her."

"I have a favour to ask of you, marquise," continued the prince, drawing from his pocket a letter and presenting it to Madeleine. "You are acquainted with the family of Colonel Pernetti?"

"Very well, monseigneur."

"Then do me the kindness to have this letter delivered to the colonel, after you have taken knowledge of its contents. I am certain," added the archduke, emphasising his last words, "that you will have as much pleasure in sending this letter as he to whom it is addressed will have pleasure in receiving it."

"I do not doubt it, monseigneur, and I here renew my very sincere thanks," said the marquise, making a ceremonious curtsey.

"To-morrow, Mlle. Antonine," said the prince to the young girl, "I am going to break the good news very gently to my poor Frantz, for fear he may be overcome by his emotion; but I am certain when he knows all he, like you, will forgive me for the grief I have caused him."

And, after having again formally saluted Antonine and the marquise, with whom he exchanged a look of intelligence, the prince returned to the elysee-Bourbon.

The next day at ten o'clock Madeleine entered a carriage, and was conducted first to the office of a notary, and then to the house of M.

Pascal.

CHAPTER XX.

M. Pascal lived alone on the ground floor of a house situated in the new quarter St. Georges, and opening on the street. A private entrance was reserved for the counting-room of the financier, which was managed by a confidential clerk, a.s.sisted by a young deputy who attended to the writing. Here M. Pascal continued to make very valuable discounts.

The princ.i.p.al entrance of his dwelling, preceded by a vestibule, led to an antechamber and other rooms. This apartment, without any luxury, was, nevertheless, comfortable; a valet for the interior and a lad of fifteen years for errands sufficed for the service of M. Pascal, a man who never compensated for his immense wealth by abundant expenditure, or indulgence in those luxuries which support labour and art.

This morning, at half-past nine, M. Pascal, dressed in his morning gown, was walking up and down the floor of his office with great agitation; his night had been one of long and feverish sleeplessness. A well-paid spy, employed for two days to observe what was taking place in the home of Mlle. Antonine, had reported to M. Pascal the visit of the prince to President Hubert.

This prompt and significant step left no doubt in the mind of the financier concerning his own plans in connection with the young girl; this cruel disappointment was complicated with other resentments: first, rage at the recognition of the truth that, notwithstanding his millions, his will, obstinate as it was, was obliged to submit before impossibilities, all the more painful because he had believed himself at the very door of success. That was not all. If he had no love for Antonine, in the n.o.blest acceptation of the word, he did feel for this child, so lovely and charming, an ardent pa.s.sion, ephemeral, perhaps, but of extreme intensity as long as it lasted; and so, with a sort of ferocious egotism, he reasoned with himself:

"I would like to possess that little girl at any price. I will marry her if I must, and when I am tired of her an annuity of twelve or fifteen thousand francs will rid me of her. I am rich enough to gratify myself in that caprice."