The Poor Gentleman Part 6

Poor De Vlierbeck writhed on his chair as Denecker poured forth his incredulous jokes. "For G.o.d's sake, sir," cried he, "spare me these bitter remarks. I declare, on the word of a gentleman, that I possess _nothing_ in the world!"

"Well!" cried the merchant, taking no heed of his remarks, and with a mocking smile, "come; let us cipher the matter out on the table. You suppose, perhaps, that I have come here to ask some great sacrifice of you: but no, De Vlierbeck, thank G.o.d, I have no occasion to be so close in my calculations. Yet a marriage is a thing to which there are always two parties, and it is just that each should bring something into the common stock."

"Oh, G.o.d! oh, G.o.d!" muttered the poor gentleman, as he clenched his hands convulsively.

"I propose to give my nephew one hundred thousand francs," continued Denecker; "and if he wants to continue in business my credit will be worth as much more to him. I have no wish that Lenora's portion shall equal his. Your high birth, and especially your character, will make up what is wanting in her fortune; but what say you to the half,--fifty thousand francs? You will consent to that, or I am much mistaken. What say you? Is it a bargain?"

Pale and trembling, De Vlierbeck sat riveted to his chair; but at last, in a low, melancholy voice,--

"Monsieur Denecker," said he, "this conversation kills me. I beg you to stop this infliction. I repeat that I possess _nothing_; and, since you force me to speak before you apprize me of your own intentions, know that Grinselhof and its dependencies are mortgaged beyond their value!

It is useless to inform you of the origin of these debts. Let it suffice to repeat that I tell the truth; and I beg you, without going further, now that you are informed of the state of my affairs, to declare frankly what are your designs as to your nephew's marriage."

Although this declaration was made with that feverish energy which ought to have satisfied Denecker of its truth, it nevertheless failed to convince him. A degree of surprise displayed itself on the merchant's face; but he continued his observations in the same incredulous tone:--

"Pardon me, De Vlierbeck, but it is impossible to believe you. I did not think you were so hard in a bargain. Yet be it so: every man has his weakness; one is too miserly, another too prodigal. Now, for my part, I confess that I am extremely anxious to spare Gustave the anxiety of delay. Give your daughter twenty-five thousand francs, with the understanding that the amount of her portion is to remain a secret; for I don't want to be laughed at. Twenty-five thousand francs!--you cannot say it is too much;--in fact, it is a trifle that will hardly pay for their furniture. Be reasonable, my good sir, and let us shake hands on it!"

De Vlierbeck said nothing; but, rising abruptly from the table, opened a closet with a trembling hand, and, taking from it a package of papers, threw them on the table.

"There!" said he; "read; convince yourself."

Denecker took up the papers and began to examine them. As he went on, the expression of his face gradually changed, and at times he raised his head and looked upward, as if in deep thought. After he had been engaged for some time in this disagreeable task, De Vlierbeck recommenced the conversation in a tone of cutting irony:--

"Ah! you would not believe me, sir. Well, let your determination be founded on those papers alone. It is right you should know every thing; for I have determined never again to be tortured. Besides the evidences of debt which are before you, I owe a bill of exchange for four thousand francs, which I cannot pay! You see now, Monsieur Denecker, that I am worse than poor, for I have debts!"

"Alas! it is but too true," said the stupefied merchant; "you have indeed nothing! I see by these doc.u.ments that my notary is also yours; and, although I spoke to him of your fortune, he left me unadvised, or, I should rather say, in error."

De Vlierbeck breathed more freely, for he felt as if a rock had fallen from his breast. His face resumed its ordinary calmness; and, seating himself, he continued:--

"Now, sir, if you have no longer any reason to doubt my poverty, let me ask what are your intentions."

"My intentions?" replied the merchant; "my intentions are that we shall remain as good friends as we were before; but, as to the marriage, that of course falls to the ground. We will speak no more about it. What were _your_ calculations, Monsieur De Vlierbeck? I think I am just beginning to see a little clearly into this matter! You imagined, I suppose, that you would make a good business out of it and sell your merchandise as high as possible!"

"Sir," exclaimed De Vlierbeck, bounding from his chair in rage, "speak respectfully of my daughter! Poor or rich, do not dare to forget who she is!"

"Don't get angry! don't get angry! Monsieur De Vlierbeck. I have no desire to insult you. Far from it. Had your enterprise succeeded I would probably have admired you; but _finesse_ against _finesse_ always makes a bad game! Permit me to ask, since you are so touchy on the point of honor, if you have acted a very honorable part in courting my nephew and allowing his pa.s.sion to absorb him?"

De Vlierbeck bowed his head to conceal the blush that suffused his aged cheeks; nor did he awake from his painful stupor till the merchant recalled him by the single word,--

"Well?"

"Ah!" stammered De Vlierbeck, "have mercy on me! Love for my child, probably, led me astray. G.o.d endowed her with all the gifts that can adorn a woman. I hoped that her beauty, the purity of her soul, the n.o.bility of her blood, were treasures quite as precious as gold!"

"That is to say, for a gentleman, perhaps; but not for so common a person as a merchant," interrupted Monsieur Denecker, with a sneer.

"Don't reproach me with having _courted_ your nephew," continued De Vlierbeck. "That is a word that wounds me deeply; for it is unjust.

Their attachment was reciprocal and in every way unstudied. I thanked G.o.d daily in my prayers that he had cast in our path a savior for my child:--yes, a savior, I say; for Gustave is an honorable youth, who would have made her happy not so much by money as by his n.o.ble and generous character. Is it then so great a crime for a father who has unfortunately become poor to hope that his child should escape want?"

"Certainly not," replied the merchant; "but every thing is in _success_; and in that respect, Monsieur De Vlierbeck, your enterprise has been unfortunate. I am a man who examines his goods twice before he buys, and it is difficult to pa.s.s apples on me for lemons!"

This heartless, trafficking slang tortured the unfortunate bankrupt to such a degree that he arose from his seat in a pa.s.sion and began to pace the apartment.

"You have no consideration for my misfortunes, sir," said he. "You pretend that I designed deceiving you; but was it _you_ who discovered my poverty? Are you not free to act as you please, after the disclosures that I have voluntarily given you? And let me remark, sir, that if I listen humbly to your reproaches--if I even acknowledge my fault--the sense of manhood is not dead in my soul. You talk of 'merchandise' and 'goods,' as if you came here to buy something! You allude to my Lenora, do you? All your wealth, sir, could not purchase her! and, if love is not powerful enough in your eyes to obliterate the pecuniary inequality between us, know that I am a De Vlierbeck, and that name, even in poverty, weighs more than all your money!"

During this explosion his face kindled with indignation and his eyes shot forth their fiery rays upon the merchant, who, alarmed by the loud words and animated gestures of De Vlierbeck, regarded him with an air of stupefaction from the other side of the apartment.

"Good G.o.d, sir," said he at last, "there is no need of so much violence and loud talk! Each of us remains where he is; each keeps what he has, and the affair is at an end. I have but one request to make of you, and it is that you will never again receive my nephew,--or else--"

"Or else?" interrupted De Vlierbeck, pa.s.sionately; "do you _dare_ to threaten me?" But, restraining himself almost instantly, he continued, with comparative calmness, "Enough! Shall I call Monsieur Denecker's carriage?"

"If you please," replied the merchant. "We cannot do business together, it seems; but that is no reason why we should become enemies."

"Well! well! we will stop short of that, sir. But this conversation annoys me; it must end!" And, so saying, he led Monsieur Denecker to the door and bade him farewell abruptly. Be Vlierbeck returned to the parlor, fell into his chair and covered his brow with both hands, as a heavy groan burst from his breast, which heaved with almost hysterical emotion. For a long time he remained silent and motionless; but soon his hands fell heavily on his knees, a deathly paleness overspread his face, and the room whirled around the heart-broken man.

Suddenly he heard footsteps in the chamber above, and, rousing himself by a strong effort, "Oh, G.o.d! my poor child!" cried he; "my poor Lenora! She comes! my punishment is not yet complete! I must break the heart of my own child; I must tear from it all its hopes, blot out its dream, behold it withered up with grief! Oh that I could escape this dreadful disclosure! Alas! What to say to her? how to explain it?"

A bitter smile contracted his lips as he continued, with bitter irony:--"Ah! hide thy suffering, old man; rally thy strength; take courage! If thy heart is torn and bleeding,--if despair devours thy soul,--oh, smile, still smile! Yes! your life has been a continual farce! Yet, miserable abortion that thou art, what canst thou do but submit, yield without a fight, and bow thy neck to the yoke like a powerless slave? Begone, rebellious feeling! Be silent, and behold thy child!"

Lenora opened the door and ran to her father, her questioning eyes fixed on his with a look of hope. All of poor De Vlierbeck's efforts to disguise his suffering were unsuccessful, and Lenora soon read in his face that he was a prey to some overwhelming sorrow. As he still obstinately kept silence, she began to tremble, and asked, with feverish impatience,--

"Well, father,--well,--have you _nothing_ to say to me?"

"Alas! my child," said he, sighing, "we are not happy. G.o.d tries us with heavy blows. Let us bow before the will of the Almighty."

"What do you mean? what is there to fear?" said Lenora, beside herself.

"Speak, father! Has he _refused_ his consent?"

"He has refused it, Lenora!"

"Oh, no! no!" cried the maiden; "it is impossible!"

"Refused it, because he possesses millions and we--nothing!"

"It is true, then? Gustave is hopelessly lost to me!--lost to me forever!

"Hopelessly!" echoed the father.

A sharp cry escaped Lenora as she tottered to the table and fell on it, weeping bitterly.

De Vlierbeck arose and stood above his sobbing daughter, and, joining his uplifted hands, exclaimed, in suppliant tones,--

"Oh, pity me, pity me, Lenora! In that fatal interview I have suffered all the torments that could rack the heart of a parent; I have drunk the dregs of shame; I have emptied the cup of humiliation; but all, all are nothing in comparison with thy grief! Calm yourself, child of my love; let me see the sweet face I so love to look on; let me regain my lost strength in thy holy resignation! Lenora! my head swims; I shall die of despair!"

As he uttered these words he sank heavily into a chair, overpowered by emotion. The sound of his fall seemed instantly to recall Lenora to herself, and, dashing the tears from her eyes, she leaned her head on his shoulder to listen and a.s.sure herself that he had not fainted.

"Never to see him more! to renounce his love forever! to lose the happiness I dreamed of! Alas! alas!"

"Lenora! Lenora!" exclaimed her father, entreatingly!

"Oh, beloved father," sobbed the poor girl, "to lose Gustave _forever_!