XXIII
After a few hours of that leaden sleep which follows greatcatastrophes, Mme. Favoral and her children were awakened on themorning of the next day, which was Sunday, by the furious clamorsof an exasperated crowd. Each one, from his own room, understoodthat the apartment had just been invaded. Loud blows upon the doorwere mingled with the noise of feet, the oaths of men, and thescreams of women. And, above this confused and continuous tumult,such vociferations as these could be heard:
"I tell you they must be at home!"
"Canailles, swindlers, thieves!"
"We want to go in: we will go in!"
"Let the woman come, then: we want to see her, to speak to her!"
Occasionally there were moments of silence, during which theplaintive voice of the servant could be heard; but almost at oncethe cries and the threats commenced again, louder than ever.Maxence, being ready first, ran to the parlor, where his mother andsister joined him directly, their eyes swollen by sleep and by tears.Mme. Favoral was trembling so much that she could not succeed infastening her dress.
"Do you hear?" she said in a choking voice.
From the parlor, which was divided from the dining-room byfolding-doors, they did not miss a single insult.
"Well," said Mlle. Gilberte coldly, "what else could we expect? IfBertan came alone last night, it is because he alone had beennotified. Here are the others now."
And, turning to her brother,
"You must see them," she added, "speak to them."
But Maxence did not stir. The idea of facing the insults and thecurses of these enraged creditors was too repugnant to him.
"Would you rather let them break in the door?" said Mlle. Gilberte."That won't take long."
He hesitated no more. Gathering all his courage, he stepped intothe dining-room. The disorder was beyond limits. The table hadbeen pushed towards one of the corners, the chairs were upset.They were there some thirty men and women,--concierges,shop-keepers, and retired bourgeois of the neighborhood, theircheeks flushed, their eyes staring, gesticulating as if they had afit, shaking their clinched fists at the ceiling.
"Gentlemen," commenced Maxence.
But his voice was drowned by the most frightful shouts. He hadhardly got in, when he was so closely surrounded, that he had beenunable to close the parlor-door after him, and had been driven andbacked against the embrasure of a window.
"My father, gentlemen," he resumed.
Again he was interrupted. There were three or four before him, whowere endeavoring before all to establish their own claims clearly.
They were speaking all at once, each one raising his own voice soas to drown that of the others. And yet, through their confusedexplanations, it was easy to understand the way in which the cashierof the Mutual Credit had managed things.
Formerly it was only with great reluctance that he consented to takecharge of the funds which were offered to him; and then he neveraccepted sums less than ten thousand francs, being always careful tosay, that, not being a prophet, he could not answer for any thing,and might be mistaken, like any one else. Since the Commune, on thecontrary, and with a duplicity, that could never have been suspected,he had used all his ingenuity to attract deposits. Under somepretext or other, he would call among the neighbors, theshop-keepers; and, after lamenting with them about the hard timesand the difficulty of making money, he always ended by holding up tothem the dazzling profits which are yielded by certain investmentsunknown to the public.
If these very proceedings had not betrayed him, it is because herecommended to each the most inviolable secrecy, saying, that, atthe slightest indiscretion, he would be assailed with demands, andthat it would be impossible for him to do for all what he did for one.
At any rate, he took every thing that was offered, even the mostinsignificant sums, affirming, with the most imperturbable assurance,that he could double or treble them without the slightest risk.
The catastrophe having come, the smaller creditors showed themselves,as usual, the most angry and the most intractable. The less moneyone has, the more anxious one is to keep it. There was there an oldnewspaper-vender, who had placed in M. Favoral's hands all she hadin the world, the savings of her entire life,--five hundred francs.Clinging desperately to Maxence's garments, she begged him to givethem back to her, swearing, that, if he did not, there was nothingleft for her to do, except to throw herself in the river. Her groansand her cries of distress exasperated the other creditors.
That the cashier of the Mutual Credit should have embezzled millions,they could well understand, they said. But that he could haverobbed this poor woman of her five hundred francs,--nothing morelow, more cowardly, and more vile could be imagined; and the lawhad no chastisement severe enough for such a crime.
"Give her back her five hundred francs;" they cried. For there wasnot one of them but would have wagered his head that M. Favoral hadlots of money put away; and some went even so far as to say that hemust have hid it in the house, and, if they looked well, they wouldfind it.
Maxence, bewildered, was at a loss what to do, when, in the midstof this hostile crowd, he perceived M. Chapelain's friendly face.
Driven from his bed at daylight by the bitter regrets at the heavyloss he had just sustained, the old lawyer had arrived in the RueSt. Gilles at the very moment when the creditors invaded M. Favoral'sapartment. Standing behind the crowd, he had seen and heard everything without breathing a word; and, if he interfered now, it wasbecause he thought things were about to take an ugly turn. He waswell known; and, as soon as he showed himself,
"He is a friend of the rascal!" they shouted on all sides.
But he was not the man to be so easily frightened. He had seen manya worse case during twenty years that he had practised law, and hadwitnessed all the sinister comedies and all the grotesque dramas ofmoney. He knew how to speak to infuriated creditors, how to handlethem, and what strings can be made to vibrate within them. In themost quiet tone,
"Certainly," he answered, "I was Favoral's intimate friend; and theproof of it is, that he has treated me more friendly than the rest.I am in for a hundred and sixty thousand francs."
By this mere declaration he conquered the sympathies of the crowd.He was a brother in misfortune; they respected him: he was a skilfulbusiness-man; they stopped to listen to him.
At once, and in a short and trenchant tone, he asked these invaderswhat they were doing there, and what they wanted. Did they not knowto what they exposed themselves in violating a domicile? What wouldhave happened, if, instead of stopping to parley, Maxence had sentfor the commissary of police? Was it to Mme. Favoral and herchildren that they had intrusted their funds? No! What did theywant with them then? Was there by chance among them some of thoseshrewd fellows who always try to get themselves paid in full, to thedetriment of the others?
This last insinuation proved sufficient to break up the perfectaccord that had hitherto existed among all the creditors. Distrustarose; suspicious glances were exchanged; and, as the old newspaperwoman was keeping up her groans,
"I should like to know why you should be paid before us," two womentold her roughly. "Our rights are just as good as yours!"
Prompt to avail himself of the dispositions of the crowd,
"And, moreover," resumed the old lawyer, "in whom did we place ourconfidence? Was it in Favoral the private individual? To a certainextent, yes; but it was much more to the cashier of the MutualCredit. Therefore that establishment owes us, at least, someexplanations. And this is not all. Are we really so badly burned,that we should scream so loud? What do we know about it? ThatFavoral is charged with embezzlement, that they came to arrest him,and that he has run away. Is that any reason why our money shouldbe lost? I hope not. And so what should we do? Act prudently,and wait patiently for the work of justice."
Already, by this time, the creditors had slipped out one by one;and soon the servant closed the door on the last of them.
Then Mme. Favoral
, Maxence, and Mlle. Gilberte surrounded M.Chapelain, and, pressing his hands,
"How thankful we feel, sir, for the service you have justrendered us!"
But the old lawyer seemed in no wise proud of his victory.
"Do not thank me," he said. "I have only done my duty,--what anyhonest man would have done in my place."
And yet, under the appearance of impassible coldness, which he owedto the long practice of a profession which leaves no illusions, heevidently felt a real emotion.
"It is you whom I pity," he added, "and with all my soul,--you,madame, you, my dear Gilberte, and you, too, Maxence. Never had Iso well understood to what degree is guilty the head of a familywho leaves his wife and children exposed to the consequences of hiscrimes."
He stopped. The servant was trying her best to put the dining-roomin some sort of order wheeling the table to the centre of the room,and lifting up the chairs from the floor.
"What pillage!" she grumbled. "Neighbors too,--people from whomwe bought our things! But they were worse than savages; impossibleto do any thing with them."
"Don't trouble yourself, my good girl," said M. Chapelain: "theywon't come back any more!"
Mme. Favoral looked as if she wished to drop on her knees beforethe old lawyer.
"How, very kind you are!" she murmured: "you are not too angry withmy poor Vincent!"
With the look of a man who has made up his mind to make the best ofa disaster that he cannot help, M. Chapelain shrugged his shoulders.
"I am angry with no one but myself," he uttered in a bluff tone."An old bird like me should not have allowed himself to be caughtin a pigeon-trap. I am inexcusable. But we want to get rich. It'sslow work getting rich by working, and it's so much easier to getthe money already made out of our neighbor's pockets! I have beenunable to resist the temptation myself. It's my own fault; and Ishould say it was a good lesson, if it did not cost so dear."
Other People's Money Page 23
