The Parisians — Complete by Baron Edward Bulwer Lytton Lytton (best novels ever txt) 📕

“Monsieur le Marquis,” said Duplessis, when the salon was cleared of all but himself and the two friends, “Lemercier has confided to me the state of your affairs in connection with M. Louvier, and flatters me by thinking my advice may be of some service; if so, command me.”

“I shall most gratefully accept your advice,” answered Alain, “but I fear my condition defies even your ability and skill.”

“Permit me to hope not, and to ask a few necessary questions. M. Louvier has constituted himself your sole mortgagee; to what amount, at what interest, and from what annual proceeds is the interest paid?”

Herewith Alain gave details already furnished to the reader. Duplessis listened, and noted down the replies.

“I see it all,” he said, when Alain had finished. “M. Louvier had predetermined to possess himself of your estate: he makes himself mortgagee at a rate of interest so low, that I tell you fairly, at the present value of money, I doubt if you could find any capitalist who would accept the transfer of the mortgage at the same rate. This is not like Louvier, unless he had an object to gain, and that object is your land. The revenue from your estate is derived chiefly from wood, out of which the interest due to Louvier is to be paid. M. Gandrin, in a skilfully-guarded letter, encourages you to sell the wood from your forests to a man who offers you several thousand francs more than it could command from customary buyers. I say nothing against M. Gandrin, but every man who knows Paris as I do, knows that M. Louvier can put, and has put, a great deal of money into M. Gandrin’s pocket. The purchaser of your wood does not pay more than his deposit, and has just left the country insolvent. Your purchaser, M. Collot, was an adventurous speculator; he would have bought anything at any price, provided he had time to pay; if his speculations had been lucky he would have paid. M. Louvier knew, as I knew, that M. Collot was a gambler, and the chances were that he would not pay. M. Louvier allows a year’s interest on his hypotheque to become due-notice thereof duly given to you by his agent—now you come under the operation of the law. Of course, you know what the law is?”

“Not exactly,” answered Alain, feeling frostbitten by the congealing words of his counsellor; “but I take it for granted that if I cannot pay the interest of a sum borrowed on my property, that property itself is forfeited.”

“No, not quite that—the law is mild. If the interest which should be paid half-yearly remains unpaid at the end of a year, the mortgagee has a right to be impatient, has he not?”

“Certainly he has.”

“Well, then, on fait un commandement tendant de saisie immobiliere, viz: The mortgagee gives a notice that the property shall be put up for sale. Then it is put up for sale, and in most cases the mortgagee buys it in. Here, certainly, no competitors in the mere business way would vie with Louvier; the mortgage at three and a half per cent. covers more than the estate is apparently worth. Ah! but stop, M. le Marquis; the notice is not yet served: the whole process would take six months from the day it is served to the taking possession after the sale; in the meanwhile, if you pay the interest due, the action drops. Courage, M. le Marquis! Hope yet, if you condescend to call me friend.”

“And me,” cried Lemercier; “I will sell out of my railway shares to-morrow-see to it, Duplessis—enough to pay off the damnable interest. See to it, mon ami.”

“Agree to that, M. le Marquis, and you are safe for another year,” said Duplessis, folding up the paper on which he had made his notes, but fixing on Alain quiet eyes half concealed under drooping lids.

“Agree to that!” cried Rochebriant, rising—“agree to allow even my worst enemy to pay for me moneys I could never hope to repay—agree to allow the oldest and most confiding friends to do so—M. Duplessis, never! If I carried the porter’s knot of an Auverguat, I should still remain gentilhomme and Breton.”

Duplessis, habitually the driest of men, rose with a moistened eye and flushing cheek—“Monsieur le Marquis, vouchsafe me the honour to shake hands with you. I, too, am by descent gentilhomme, by profession a speculator on the Bourse. In both capacities I approve the sentiment you have uttered. Certainly, if our friend Frederic lent you 7000 Louis or so this year, it would be impossible for you even to foresee the year in which you could repay it; but,”—here Duplessis paused a minute, and then lowering the tone of his voice, which had been somewhat vehement and enthusiastic, into that of a colloquial good-fellowship, equally rare to the measured reserve of the financier, he asked, with a lively twinkle of his grey eye, “Did you never hear, Marquis, of a little encounter between me and M. Louvier?”

“Encounter at arms—does Louvier fight?” asked Alain, innocently.

“In his own way he is always fighting; but I speak metaphorically. You see this small house of mine—so pinched in by the houses next to it that I can neither get space for a ball-room for Valerie, nor a dining-room for more than a friendly party like that which has honoured me to-day. Eh bien! I bought this house a few years ago, meaning to buy the one next to it and throw the two into one. I went to the proprietor of the next house, who, as I knew, wished to sell. ‘Aha,’ he thought, ‘this is the rich Monsieur Duplessis;’ and he asked me 2000 louis more than the house was worth. We men of business cannot bear to be too much cheated; a little cheating we submit to—much cheating raises our gall. Bref—this was on Monday. I offered the man 1000 louis above the fair price, and gave him till Thursday to decide. Somehow or other Louvier hears of this. ‘Hillo!’ says Louvier, ‘here is a financier who desires a hotel to vie with mine!’ He goes on Wednesday to my next-door neighbour. ‘Friend, you want to sell your house. I want to buy—the price?’ The proprietor, who does not know him by sight, says: ‘It is as good as sold. M. Duplessis and I shall agree.’ ‘Bah! What sum did you ask M. Duplessis?’ He names the sum; 2000 louis more than he can get elsewhere. ‘But M. Duplessis will give me the sum.’ ‘You ask too little. I will give 3000. A fig for M. Duplessis. I am Monsieur Louvier.’ So when I call on Thursday the house is sold. I reconcile myself easily enough to the loss of space for a larger dining-room; but though Valerie was then a child at a convent, I was sadly disconcerted by the thought that I could have no salle de bal ready for her when she came to reside with me. Well, I say to myself, patience; I owe M. Louvier a good turn; my time to pay him off will come. It does come, and very soon. M. Louvier buys an estate near Paris—builds a superb villa. Close to his property is a rising forest ground for sale. He goes to the proprietor: says the proprietor to himself, ‘The great Louvier wants this,’ and adds 5000 louis to its market price. Louvier, like myself, can’t bear to be cheated egregiously. Louvier offers 2000 louis