Other People's Money
Page 19
XIX
It was a curious spectacle, the return of those braves for whomParisian slang had invented the new and significant expression of_franc-fileur_.
They were not so proud then as they have been since. Feeling ratherembarrassed in the midst of a population still quivering with theemotions of the siege, they had at least the good taste to try andfind pretexts for their absence.
"I was cut off," affirmed the Baron de Thaller. "I had gone toSwitzerland to place my wife and daughter in safety. When I cameback, good-by! the Prussians had closed the doors. For more thana week, I wandered around Paris, trying to find an opening. Ibecame suspected of being a spy. I was arrested. A little more,and I was shot dead!"
"As to myself," declared M. Costeclar, "I foresaw exactly what hashappened. I knew that it was outside, to organize armies of relief,that men would be wanted. I went to offer my services to thegovernment of defence; and everybody in Bordeaux saw me booted andspurred, and ready to leave."
He was consequently soliciting the Cross of the Legion of Honor,and was not without hopes of obtaining it through the all-powerfulinfluence of his financial connections.
"Didn't So-and-so get it?" he replied to objections. And he namedthis or that individual whose feats of arms consisted principallyin having exhibited themselves in uniforms covered with gold laceto the very shoulders.
"But I am the man who deserves it most, that cross," insisted theyounger M. Jottras; "for I, at least, have rendered valuableservices."
And he went on telling how, after searching for arms all overEngland, he had sailed for New York, where he had purchased anynumber of guns and cartridges, and even some batteries of artillery.
This last journey had been very wearisome to him, he added and yethe did not regret it; for it had furnished him an opportunity tostudy on the spot the financial morals of America; and he hadreturned with ideas enough to make the fortune of three or fourstock companies with twenty millions of capital.
"Ah, those Americans!" he exclaimed. "They are the men whounderstand business! We are but children by the side of them."
It was through M. Chapelain, the Desclavettes, and old Desormeaux,that these news reached the Rue St. Gilles.
It was also through Maxence, whose battalion had been dissolved,and who, whilst waiting for something better, had accepted aclerkship in the office of the Orleans Railway, where he earnedtwo hundred francs a month. For M. Favoral saw and heard nothingthat was going on around him. He was wholly absorbed in hisbusiness: he left earlier, came home later, and hardly allowedhimself time to eat and drink.
He told all his friends that business was looking up again in themost unexpected manner; that there were fortunes to be made bythose who could command ready cash; and that it was necessary tomake up for lost time.
He pretended that the enormous indemnity to be paid to the Prussianswould necessitate an enormous movement of capital, financialcombinations, a loan, and that so many millions could not be handledwithout allowing a few little millions to fall into intelligentpockets.
Dazzled by the mere enumeration of those fabulous sums, "I shouldnot be a bit surprised," said the others, "to see Favoral doubleand treble his fortune. What a famous match his daughter will be!"
Alas! never had Mlle. Gilberte felt in her heart so much hatredand disgust for that money, the only thought, the sole subject ofconversation, of those around her,--for that cursed money whichhad risen like an insurmountable obstacle between Marius andherself.
For two weeks past, the communications had been completely restored;and there was as yet no sign of M. de Tregars. It was with the mostviolent palpitations of her heart that she awaited each day the hourof the Signor Gismondo Pulei's lesson: and more painful each timebecame her anguish when she heard him exclaim,
"Nothing, not a line, not a word. The pupil has forgotten his oldmaster!"
But Mlle. Gilberte knew well that Marius did not forget. Her bloodfroze in her veins when she read in the papers the interminablelist of those poor soldiers who had succumbed during the invasion,--the more fortunate ones under Prussian bullets; the others alongthe roads, in the mud or in the snow, of cold, of fatigue, ofsuffering and of want.
She could not drive from her mind the memory of that lugubriousvision which had so much frightened her; and she was asking herselfwhether it was not one of those inexplicable presentiments, ofwhich there are examples, which announce the death of a belovedperson.
Alone at night in her little room, Mlle. Gilberte withdrew from thehiding-place, where she kept it preciously, that package whichMarius had confided to her, recommending her not to open it untilshe was sure that he would not return. It was very voluminous,enclosed in an envelope of thick paper, sealed with red wax, bearingthe arms of Tregars; and she had often wondered what it couldpossibly contain. And now she shuddered at the thought that shehad perhaps the right to open it.
And she had no one of whom she could ask for a word of hope. Shewas compelled to hide her tears, and to put on a smile. She wascompelled to invent pretexts for those who expressed their wonderat seeing her exquisite beauty withering in the bud,--for hermother, whose anxiety was without limit, when she saw her thus pale,her eyes inflamed, and undermined by a continuous fever.
True, Marius, on leaving, had left her a friend, the Count deVillegre; and, if any one knew any thing, he certainly did. Butshe could see no way of hearing from him without risking her secret.Write to him? Nothing was easier, since she had his address,--RueTurenne. But where could she ask him to direct his answer? Rue St.Gilles? Impossible! True, she might go to him, or make anappointment in the neighborhood. But how could she escape, evenfor an hour, without exciting Mme. Favoral's suspicions?
Sometimes it occurred to her to confide in Maxence, who was laboringwith admirable constancy to redeem his past.
But what! must she, then, confess the truth,--confess that she,Gilberte, had lent her ears to the words of a stranger, met bychance in the street, and that she looked forward to no happinessin life save through him? She dared not. She could not take uponherself to overcome the shame of such a situation.
She was on the verge of despair, the day when the Signor Puleiarrived radiant, exclaiming from the very threshold, "I have news!"
And at once, without surprise at the awful emotion of the girl,which he attributed solely to the interest she felt for him,--himGismondo Pulei, he went on,--"I did not get them direct, but througha respectable signor with long mustaches, and a red ribbon at hisbuttonhole, who, having received a letter from my dear pupil, hasdeigned to come to my room, and read it to me."
The worthy maestro had not forgotten a single word of that letter;and it was almost literally that he repeated it.
Six weeks after having enlisted, his pupil had been promotedcorporal, then sergeant, then lieutenant. He had fought in allthe battles of the army of the Loire without receiving a scratch.But at the battle of the Maus, whilst leading back his men, whowere giving way, he had been shot twice, full in the breast.Carried dying into an ambulance, he had lingered three weeksbetween life and death, having lost all consciousness of self.Twenty-four hours after, he had recovered his senses; and he tookthe first opportunity to recall himself to the affection of hisfriends. All danger was over, he suffered scarcely any more; andthey promised him, that, within a month, he would be up, and ableto return to Paris.
For the first time in many weeks Mlle. Gilberte breathed freely.But she would have been greatly surprised, had she been told thata day was drawing near when she would bless those wounds whichdetained Marius upon a hospital cot. And yet it was so.
Mme. Favoral and her daughter were alone, one evening, at the house,when loud clamors arose from the street, in the midst of whichcould be heard drunken voices yelling the refrains of revolutionarysongs, accompanied by continuous rumbling sounds. They ran to thewindow. The National Guards had just taken possession of the cannondeposited in the Place Royale. The reign of the Commune wascommencing.
Again M. Favoral had given up going to his office. What's the use?Sometimes, with a singular look, he would say to his wife andchildren,
"This time it is indeed a liquidation. Paris is lost!"
And indeed they thought so, when at the hour of the supreme struggle,among the detonations of the cannon and the explosion of the shells;they felt their house shaking to its very foundations; when in themidst of the night they saw their apartment as brilliantly lightedas at mid-day by the flames which were consuming the Hotel de Villeand the houses around the Place de la Bastille. And, in fact, therapid action of the troops alone saved Paris from destruction.
But towards the end of the following week, matters had commenced toquiet down; and Gilberte learned the return of Marius.