The Lesser Bourgeoisie by Honore de Balzac (best ereader for graphic novels TXT) 📕

desk.

Without rising, and merely making a sign to his guest to take a chair,

the little old man continued the letter he was then writing. After

sealing it with wax, with a care and precision that denoted a nature

extremely fastidious and particular, or else a man accustomed to

discharge diplomatic functions, du Portail rang for Bruneau, his

valet, and said, as he gave him the letter:--

"For the justice-of-peace of the arrondissement."

Then he carefully wiped the steel pen he had just used, restored to

their places, symmetrically, all the displaced articles on his desk,

and it was only when these little arrangements were completed that he

turned to Cerizet, and said:--

"You know, of course, that we lost that poor Monsieur Toupillier last

night?"

"No, really?" said Cerizet, putting on the most sympathetic air he

could manage. "This is my first knowledge of it."

"But you probably expected it. When one gives a dying man an immense

bowl of hot wine, which has also been narcotized,--for the Perrache

woman slept all night in a sort of lethargy after drinking a small

glass of it,--it is evident that the catastrophe has been hastened."

"I am ignorant, monsieur," said Cerizet, with dignity, "of what Madame

Cardinal may have given to her uncle. I have no doubt committed a

great piece of thoughtlessness in assisting this woman to obtain an

inheritance to which she assured me she had legal rights; but as to

attempting the life of that old pauper, I am quite incapable of such a

thing; nothing of the kind ever entered my mind."

"You wrote me this letter, I think," said du Portail, abruptly, taking

from beneath a bohemian glass bowl a paper which he offered to

Cerizet.

"A letter?" replied Cerizet, with the hesitation of a man who doesn't

know whether to lie or speak the truth.

"I am quite sure of what I say," continued du Portail. "I have a mania

for autographs, and I possess one of yours, obtained at the period

when the Opposition exalted you to the glorious rank of martyr. I have

compared the two writings, and I find that you certainly wrote me,

yesterday, the letter which you hold in your hand, informing me of the

money embarrassments of young la Peyrade at the present moment."

"Well," said Cerizet, "knowing that you had given a home to

Mademoiselle de la Peyrade, who is probably cousin of Theodose, I

thought I recognized in you the mysterious protector from whom, on

more than one occasion, my friend has received the most generous

assistance. Now, as I have a sincere affection for that poor fellow,

it was in his interests that I permitted myself--"

"You did quite right," interrupted du Portail. "I am delighted to have

fallen in with a friend of la Peyrade. I ought not to conceal from you

that it was this particular fact which protected you last night. But

tell me, what is this about notes for twenty-five thousand francs? Is

our friend so badly off in his affairs? Is he leading a dissipated

life?"

"On the contrary," replied Cerizet, "he's a puritan. Given to the

deepest piety, he did not choose to take, as a barrister, any other

cases but those of the poor. He is now on the point of making a rich

marriage."

"Ah! is he going to be married? and to whom?"

"To a Demoiselle Colleville, daughter of the secretary of the mayor of

the 12th arrondissement. In herself, the girl has no fortune, but a

certain Monsieur Thuillier, her godfather, member of the

Council-general of the Seine, has promised her a suitable 'dot.'"

"Who has handled this affair?"

"La Peyrade has been devoted to the Thuillier family, into which he

was introduced by Monsieur Dutocq, clerk of the justice-of-peace of

their arrondissement."

"But you wrote me that these notes were signed in favor of Monsieur

Dutocq. The affair is a bit of matrimonial brokerage, in short?"

"Well, something of that kind," replied Cerizet. "You know, monsieur,

that in Paris such transactions are very common. Even the clergy won't

disdain to have a finger in them."

"Is the marriage a settled thing?"

"Yes, and within the last few days especially."

"Well, my good sir, I rely on you to put an end to it. I have other

views for Theodose,--another marriage to propose to him."

"Excuse me!" said Cerizet, "to break up this marriage would make it

impossible for him to pay his notes; and I have the honor to call your

attention to the fact that these particular bills of exchange are

serious matters. Monsieur Dutocq is in the office of the

justice-of-peace; in other words, he couldn't be easily defeated in

such a matter."

"The debt to Monsieur Dutocq you shall buy off yourself," replied du

Portail. "Make arrangements with him to that effect. Should Theodose

prove reluctant to carry out my plans, those notes may become a useful

weapon in our hands. You will take upon yourself to sue him for them,

and you shall have no money responsibility in the matter. I will pay

you the amount of the notes for Dutocq, and your costs in suing

Theodose."

"You are square in business, monsieur," said Cerizet. "There's some

pleasure in being your agent. Now, if you think the right moment has

come, I should be glad if you would give me some better light on the

mission you are doing me the honor to place in my hands."

"You spoke just now," replied du Portail, "of the cousin of Theodose,

Mademoiselle Lydie de la Peyrade. This young woman, who is not in her

first youth, for she is nearly thirty, is the natural daughter of the

celebrated Mademoiselle Beaumesnil of the Theatre Francais and

Peyrade, the commissary-general of police under the Empire, and the

uncle of our friend. Until his death, which occurred suddenly, leaving

his daughter, whom he loved tenderly, without means of support, I was

bound to that excellent man with the warmest friendship."

Glad to show that he had some knowledge of du Portail's interior life,

Cerizet hastened to remark:--

"And you have secretly fulfilled the duties of that friendship,

monsieur; for, in taking into your home that interesting orphan you

assumed a difficult guardianship. Mademoiselle de la Peyrade's state

of health requires, I am told, a care not only affectionate, but

persevering."

"Yes," replied du Portail, "the poor girl, after the death of her

father, was so cruelly tried that her mind has been somewhat affected;

but a fortunate change has lately occurred in her condition, and only

yesterday I called in consultation Doctor Bianchon and the two

physicians-in-charge of Bicetre and the Salpetriere. These gentlemen

unanimously declare that marriage and the birth of a first child would

undoubtedly restore her to perfect health. You can readily understand

that the remedy is too easy and agreeable not to be attempted."

"Then," said Cerizet, "it is to Mademoiselle Lydie de la Peyrade, his

cousin, that you wish to marry Theodose."

"You have said it," returned du Portail, "and you must not think that

our young friend, if he accepts the marriage, will be called upon to

show a gratuitous devotion. Lydie is very agreeable in person; she has

talents, a charming disposition, and she can bring to bear, in her

husband's interest, a strong influence in public life. She has,

moreover, a pretty fortune, consisting of what her mother left her,

and of my entire property, which, having no heirs myself, I intend to

secure to her in the marriage contract. Besides all this, she has this

very night acquired a not inconsiderable legacy."

"What!" exclaimed Cerizet, "do you mean that old Toupillier--"

"By a will in his own handwriting, which I have here, that old pauper

constitutes her his sole legatee. You see, therefore, that I showed

some kindness in not proceeding against you and Madame Cardinal for

your little attempt last night; it was simply our property that you

were trying to pillage."

"Heavens!" cried Cerizet, "I won't pretend to excuse Madame Cardinal's

misconduct; and yet, as one of the legal heirs, dispossessed by a

stranger, she had, it seems to me, some right to the indulgence which

you certainly showed to her."

"In that you are mistaken," said du Portail; "the apparent liberality

of the old beggar to Mademoiselle de la Peyrade happens to be only a

restitution."

"A restitution!" exclaimed Cerizet, in a tone of curiosity.

"A restitution," repeated du Portail, "and nothing is easier than to

prove it. Do you remember the robbery of some diamonds from one of our

dramatic celebrities about ten years ago?"

"Yes," replied Cerizet. "I was manager of one of my newspapers at the

time, and I used to write the 'Paris items.' But stay, I remember, the

actress who lost them was Mademoiselle Beaumesnil."

"Precisely; the mother of Mademoiselle de la Peyrade."

"Consequently, this miserable old Toupillier--no, I remember that the

thief was convicted; his name was Charles Crochard. It was said, under

the rose, that he was the natural son of a great personage, the Comte

de Granville, attorney-general under the Restoration." [See "A Double

Life."]

"Well," said du Portail, "this is how it happened. The robbery was

committed in a house in the rue de Tournon, occupied by Mademoiselle

Beaumesnil. Charles Crochard, who was a handsome fellow, was said to

have the run of it--"

"Yes, yes," cried Cerizet, "I remember Mademoiselle Beaumesnil's

embarrassment when she gave her testimony--and also the total

extinction of voice that attacked her when the judge asked her age."

"The robbery," continued du Portail, "was audaciously committed in the

daytime; and no sooner did Charles Crochard get possession of the

casket than he went to the church of Saint-Sulpice, where he had an

appointment with an accomplice, who, being supplied with a passport,

was to start immediately with the diamonds for foreign parts. It so

chanced that on entering the church, instead of meeting the man he

expected, who was a trifle late, Charles Crochard came face to face

with a celebrated agent of the detective force, who was well known to

him, inasmuch as the young rascal was not at his first scrimmage with

the police. The absence of his accomplice, this encounter with the

detective, and, lastly, a rapid movement made by the latter, by the

merest chance, toward the door, induced the robber to fancy he was

being watched. Losing his head under this idea, he wanted, at any

cost, to put the casket out of his possession, knowing that if

arrested, as he expected, at the door of the church, it would be a

damning proof against him. Catching sight at that moment of

Toupillier, who was then the giver of holy water, 'My man,' said he,

making sure that no one overheard their colloquy, 'will you take care

of this little package for me? It is a box of lace. I am going near by

to a countess who is slow to pay her bill; and if I have the lace with

me she'll want to see it, for it is a new style, and she'll ask me to

leave it with her on credit, instead of paying the bill; therefore I

don't want to take it. But,' he added, 'be sure not to touch the paper

that wraps the box, for there's nothing harder than to do up a package

in the same folds--'"

"The booby!" cried Cerizet, naively; "why, that very caution would

make the man want to open it."

"You are an able casuist," said du Portail. "Well, an hour later,

Charles Crochard, finding that nothing happened to him, returned to

the church to obtain his deposit, but Toupillier was no longer there.

You can imagine the anxiety with which Charles Crochard attended early

mass the next day, and approached the giver of holy water, who was

there, sure enough, attending to his functions. But night, they say,

brings counsel; the worthy beggar audaciously declared that he had

received no package, and did not know what his interlocutor meant."

"And there was no possibility of arguing with him, for that would be

exposure," remarked Cerizet, who was not far from sympathizing in a

trick so boldly played.

"No doubt," resumed du Portail; "the robbery was already noised about,

and Toupillier, who was a very able fellow, had calculated that

Charles Crochard would not dare to publicly accuse him, for that would

reveal the theft. In fact, on his trial Charles Crochard never said a

word of his mishap, and during the six years he spent at the galleys

(he was condemned to ten, but four were remitted) he did not open his

lips to a single soul about the treachery of which he had been a

victim."

"That was pretty plucky," said Cerizet; the tale excited him, and he

showed openly that he saw the matter as an artist and a connoisseur.

"In that interval," continued du Portail, "Madame Beaumesnil died,

leaving her daughter a few fragments of a once great fortune, and the

diamonds which the will expressly stated Lydie was to receive 'in case

they were recovered.'"

"Ha! ha!" exclaimed Cerizet, "bad for Toupillier, because, having