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"What at, my boys? what at? Anything fresh about poor Louise?"
"You would have known, roving blade, if you had not been so long in your rounds."
"What, you think it is but a step from here to the Rue de Chaillot?"
"I never said so."
"Well, what about that gallant don, the famous Viscount de Saint-Remy?"
"Has he not been here yet?"
"No."
"Well, his horses were harnessed, and he sent me word by his _valet de chambre_, that he would come here directly. But he didn't seem best pleased, the servant said. Oh, my boys! such a lovely little house, furnished most magnificently, like one of the dwellings of the olden time that Faublas writes about. Oh, Faublas! he is my hero--my model!"
said the clerk, putting down his umbrella and taking off his clogs.
"You are right, Jabulot; for, as that sublime old blind man, Homer, said:
'Faublas, that amorous hero, it is said, Forsook the d.u.c.h.ess for the waiting-maid.'"
"Yes; but then, she was a theatrical 'waiting-maid,' my lads."
"I demand Chalamel's head!"
"But about this Viscount de Saint-Remy? Jabulot says his mansion is superb."
"Pyramidic!"
"Then, I'll be bound, he has debts not a few, and arrests to match, this viscount."
"A bill of thirty-four thousand francs (1,360_l._) has been sent here by the officer. It is made payable at the office. This is his creditors'
doing; I don't know why or wherefore."
"Well, I should say that this dandy viscount would pay now, because he came from the country last night, where he has been concealed these three days, in order to escape from the bailiffs."
"How is it, then, that they have not seized the furniture already?"
"Why? oh, he's too cunning! The house is not his own; all the furniture is in the name of his _valet de chambre_, who is said to let it to him furnished; and, in the same way, his horses and carriages are in his coachman's name, who declares that he lets to the viscount his splendid turn-out at so much a month. Ah, he's a 'downy' one, is M. de Saint-Remy! But what were you going to tell me? what has happened here fresh?"
"Why, imagine the governor coming in here two hours ago in a most awful pa.s.sion. 'Germain is not here?' he exclaimed. 'No, sir.' 'Well, the rascal has robbed me last night of seventeen thousand francs!' says the governor."
"Germain--rob--ah, come, that's 'no go!'"
"You will hear. 'What, sir, are you sure? but it cannot be,' we all cried out. 'I tell you, gentlemen,' said the governor, 'that yesterday I put in the drawer of the bureau at which he writes, fifteen notes of one thousand francs each, and two thousand francs in gold, in a little box, and it is all gone.' At this moment old Marriton, the porter, came in, and he said, 'Sir, the police are coming; where is Germain?' 'Wait a bit,' said the governor to the porter; 'as soon as M. Germain returns, send him into the office, without saying a word. I will confront him before you all, gentlemen,' said the governor. At the end of a quarter of an hour in comes poor Germain, as if nothing had happened. Old Mother Seraphin had brought in our morning mess. Germain made his bow to the governor, and wished us all 'good morning,' as usual. 'Germain, don't you take your breakfast?' inquired M. Ferrand. 'No, thank you, sir, I am not hungry.' 'You're very late this morning.' 'Yes, sir; I was obliged to go to Belleville this morning.' 'No doubt to hide the money you have stolen from me!' M. Ferrand said, in a terrible voice."
"And Germain?"
"The poor fellow turned as pale as death, and stammered out, 'Pray--pray, sir, do not ruin me--'"
"What! he had stolen--"
"Listen, Jabulot: 'Do not ruin me,' says he to the governor. 'What! you confess it, then, you villain?' 'Yes, sir; but here is the money; I thought I could replace it before you came into the office this morning; but, unfortunately, a person who had a small sum of mine, and whom I expected to find at home last night, had been at Belleville these two days, and I was compelled to go there this morning; that made me late.
Pray, sir, forgive me,--do not destroy me! When I took the money I knew I could return it this morning; and here are the thirteen hundred francs in gold.' 'What do you mean by thirteen hundred francs?' exclaimed M.
Ferrand; 'what's the use of talking of thirteen hundred francs? You have stolen, from the bureau in my room, fifteen thousand francs that were in a green pocket-book, and two thousand francs in gold.' 'I? Never!' cried poor Germain, quite aghast. 'I took thirteen hundred francs in gold, but not a farthing more. I did not even see the pocket-book in the drawer; there were only two thousand francs, in gold, in a box.' 'Oh, shameless liar!' cried the governor; 'you confess to having plundered thirteen hundred francs, and may just as well have stolen more; that will be for the law to decide. I shall be without mercy for such an infamous breach of trust; you shall be an example.' In fact, my dear Jabulot, the police came in at that moment, with the commissary's chief clerk, to draw up the depositions, and they laid hands on poor Germain; and that's all about it."
"Really, you do surprise me! I feel as if some one had given me a thump on the head. Germain--Germain, who seemed such an honest fellow,--a chap to whom one would have given absolution without confession."
"I should say that he had some presentiment of his misfortune."
"How?"
"For some days past he seemed to have something on his mind."
"Perhaps about Louise."
"Louise?"
"Why, I only repeat what Mother Seraphin said this morning."
"What did she say?"
"What? that he was Louise's lover, and the father of her child."
"Sly dog! Do you think so?"
"Why--why--why--"
"Pooh! pooh!"
"That's not the case."
"How do you know, Master Jabulot?"
"Because it is not a fortnight ago that Germain told me, in confidence, that he was over head and ears in love with a little needle-woman, a very correct la.s.s, whom he had known in the house where he lived; and, when he talked of her, the tears came in his eyes."
"Why, Jabulot, you are getting quite poetical."
"He says Faublas is his hero, and he is not 'wide awake' enough to know that a man may be in love with one woman and a lover of another at the same time; for, as the tender Fenelon says, in his Instructions to the Duke of Burgundy:
'A spicy blade, of the right c.o.c.k-feather, May love a blonde and brunette together.'"
"I demand Chalamel's head!"
"I tell you that Germain spoke in earnest."
At this moment the head clerk entered the office.
"Well, M. Jabulot," said he, "have you completed your rounds?"