Caught in the Net by Emile Gaboriau (the ebook reader .txt) 📕

All was too clear to Paul, and a cold shiver ran through his frame as he saw himself arrested, tried, and condemned.

“But,” stammered he, “M. Tantaine holds my note of hand, which is a proof that I acted honestly.”

“My poor boy, do you think that if he hoped to save himself at your expense he would produce it?”

“Luckily, sir, you know the real state of the case.”

Mascarin shook is head.

“Would my story be credited?” asked he. “Justice is not infallible, and I must confess that appearances are against you.”

Paul was crushed down beneath this weight of argument. “There is no resource for me then but death,” murmured he, “for I will not live a dishonored man.”

The conduct of Paul was precisely what Mascarin had expected, and he felt that the moment had arrived to strike a final blow.

“You must not give way to despair, my boy,” said he.

But Paul made no reply; he had lost the power of hearing. Mascarin, however, had no time to lose, and taking him by the arm, shook him roughly. “Rouse yourself. A man in your position must help himself, and bring forward proofs of his innocence.”

“There is no use in fighting,” replied Paul. “Have you not just shown me that it is hopeless to endeavor to prove my innocence?”

Mascarin grew impatient at this unnecessary exhibition of cowardice, but he concealed his feelings as best he could.

“No, no,” answered he; “I only wished to show you the worst side of the affair.”

“There is only one side.”

“Not so, for it is only a supposition that Tantaine had made away with money entrusted to him, and we are not certain of it. And we only surmise that he has been arrested, and thrown the blame on you. Before giving up the game, would it not be best to be satisfied on these points?”

Paul felt a little reassured.

“I say nothing,” continued Mascarin, “of the influence I exercise over Tantaine, and which may enable me to compel him to confess the truth.”

Weak natures like Paul’s are raised in a moment from the lowest depths of depression to the highest pitch of exultation, and he already considered that he was saved.

“Shall I ever be able to prove my gratitude to you?” said he impulsively.

Mascarin’s face assumed a paternal expression.

“Perhaps you may,” answered he; “and as a commencement you must entirely forget the past. Daylight dispels the hideous visions of the night. I offer you a fresh lease of life; will you become a new man?”

Paul heaved a deep sigh. “Rose,” he murmured; “I cannot forget her.”

Mascarin frowned. “What,” said he, “do you still let your thoughts dwell on that woman? There are people who cringe to the hand that strikes them, and the more they are duped and deceived, the more they love. If you are made of this kind of stuff, we shall never get on. Go and find your faithless mistress, and beg her to come back and share your poverty, and see what she will say.”

These sarcasms roused Paul. “I will be even with her some day,” muttered he.

“Forget her; that is the easiest thing for you to do.”

Even now Paul seemed to hesitate. “What,” said his patron reproachfully, “have you no pride?”

“I have, sir.”

“You have not, or you would never wish to hamper yourself with a woman like Rose. You should keep your hands free, if you want to fight your way through the battle of life.”

“I will follow your advice, sir,” said Paul hurriedly.

“Very soon you will thank Rose deeply for having left you. You will climb high, I can tell you, if you will work as I bid you.”

“Then,” stammered Paul, “this situation at twelve thousand francs a year——”

“There never has been such a situation.”

A ghastly pallor overspread Paul’s countenance, as he saw himself again reduced to beggary.

“But, sir,” he murmured, “will you not permit me to hope—”

“For twelve thousand francs! Be at ease, you shall have that and much more. I am getting old. I have no ties in the world—you shall be my adopted son.”

A cloud settled on Paul’s brow, for the idea that his life was to be passed in this office was most displeasing to him. Mascarin divined his inmost thoughts with perfect ease. “And the young fool does not know where to go for a crust of bread,” thought he. “Ah, if there were no Flavia, no Champdoce;” then, speaking aloud, he resumed, “don’t fancy, my dear boy, that I wish to condemn you to the treadmill that I am compelled to pass my life in. I have other views for you, far more worthy of your merits. I have taken a great liking to you, and I will do all I can to further your ambitious views. I was thinking a great deal of you, and in my head I raised the scaffolding of your future greatness. ‘He is poor,’ said I, ‘and at his age, and with his tastes, this is a cruel thing. Why, pray, should I not find a wife for him among those heiresses who have a million or two to give the man they marry? When I talk like this, it is because I know of an heiress, and my friend, Dr. Hortebise, shall introduce her to you. She is nearly, if not quite, as pretty as Rose, and has the advantage of her in being well-born, well-educated, and wealthy. She has influential relatives, and if her husband should happen to be a poet, or a composer, she could assist him in becoming famous.”

A flush came over Paul’s face, This seemed like the realization of some of his former dreams.

“With regard to your birth,” continued Mascarin, “I have devised a wonderful plan. Before ‘93, you know, every bastard was treated as a gentleman, as he might have been the son of some high and mighty personage. Who can say that your father may not have been of the noblest blood of France, and that he has not lands and wealth? He may even now be looking for you, in order to acknowledge you and make you his heir. Would you like to be a duke?”

“Ah, sir,” stammered the young man.

Mascarin burst into a fit of laughter. “Up to now,” said he, “we are only in the region of suppositions.”

“Well, sir, what do you wish me to do?” asked Paul, after a short pause.

Mascarin put on a serious face. “I want absolute obedience from you,” said he; “a blind and undeviating obedience, one that makes no objections and asks no questions.”