The Clique of Gold by Emile Gaboriau (polar express read aloud .TXT) 📕

“What a woman! And how well she defends herself.”

But Miss Brandon was already back again, carrying in her arms a small box of costly wood inlaid with jewels. She resumed her seat on the sofa; and in that brief, sharp tone which betrays terrible passions restrained with a great effort, she said,—

“Before all, I must thank you, M. Champcey, for your frankness, since it enables me to defend myself. I knew that slander had attacked me; I felt it, so to say, in the air I was breathing; but I had never been able yet to take hold of it. Now, for the first time, I can face it; and I owe it to you that I am able to defy it. Listen, therefore; for I swear to you by all that is most sacred to me, by the memory of my sainted mother, I swear to you solemnly, that you shall hear the truth, and nothing but the truth.”

She had opened the box, and was eagerly searching something among the papers inside. She then continued, in feverish haste,—

“M. Malgat was the cashier and confidential clerk of the Mutual Discount Society, a large and powerful company. M. Elgin had some business with him, a few weeks after our arrival here, for the purpose of drawing funds which he had in Philadelphia. He found him an exceedingly obliging man, and, to show his appreciation, invited him to dine here. Thus he became acquainted with Mrs. Brian and myself. He was a man of about forty, of medium height, ordinary looking, very polite, but not refined in his manners. The first time I looked at his light yellow eyes, I felt disgusted and frightened. I read in his face an expression of base vice. The impression was so strong, that I could not help telling M. Elgin how sure I was this man would turn out a bad man, and that he ought not to trust him in money-matters.”

Daniel listened with breathless attention. This description of Malgat impressed his portrait so deeply on his mind, that he thought he saw him before his eyes, and would certainly recognize him if he should ever meet him.

“M. Elgin,” continued Miss Brandon, “only laughed at my presentiments; and even Mrs. Brian, I remember distinctly, scolded me, saying it was very wrong to judge a man by his appearance, and that there were very honest men in the world who had yellow eyes. I must acknowledge, moreover, that M. Malgat behaved perfectly well whenever he was here. As M. Elgin did not know Paris, and had money to invest, he advised him what to do. When we had drafts upon the Mutual Discount Society, he always saved M. Elgin the trouble, and brought the money himself. After a while, when M. Elgin took it into his head to try some small speculations on ‘change, M. Malgat offered him his assistance, although they never had any luck, in fact.”

By this time Miss Brandon had found the papers she was looking for. She handed them to Daniel, saying,—

“And, if you do not believe what I say, look at this.”

There were a dozen square bits of paper, on which Malgat had reported the result of his operations on ‘change, which he carried on on account of, and with the money of, M. Elgin. All ended with these words:—

“We have lost considerably; but we may be more fortunate next time. There is a capital chance on such and such funds; send me all the money you can spare.”

The words were always the same; the name of the funds alone varied in each.

“That is strange,” said Daniel.

Miss Sarah shook her head.

“Strange? Yes, indeed!” she replied. “But it does not help me in any way. This letter, however, will tell you more. Read it, sir, and read it aloud.”

Daniel took the letter, and read,—

“‘Paris, Dec. 5, 1865.

“‘M. Thomas Elgin. Dear Sir,—It is to you alone, the most honorable among men, that I can make the terrible confession that I have committed a crime.

“‘I am wretched. Employed by you in your speculations, I have given way to temptation, and have speculated on my own account. One loss brought about another, I lost my head; I hoped to recover my money; and now, at this hour, I owe more than ten thousand dollars, which I have taken from the safe of the society.

“‘Will you have pity on me? Will you be so generous as to lend me that sum? I may not be able to return it in less than six or seven years; but I will repay you, I swear it, with interest.

“‘I await your answer, like a criminal, who waits for the verdict. It is a matter of life and death with me; and as you decide, so I may be saved, or disgraced forever. A. Malgat.’”

On the margin, methodical M. Elgin had written in his angular handwriting,—

“Answered immediately. Sent to M. M. ten thousand dollars, to be drawn from funds deposited with the Mutual Discount Society. No interest to be paid.”

“And that,” stammered Daniel, “that is the man”—

“Whom they charge me with having turned aside from the paths of honesty; yes, sir! Now you learn to know him. But wait. You see, he was saved. It was not long before he appeared here, his false face bathed in tears. I can find no words to convey to you the exaggerated expressions of his gratitude. He refused to shake hands with M. Elgin, he said, because he was no longer worthy of such honor. He spoke of nothing but of his devotion unto death. It is true M. Elgin carried his generosity to an extreme. He, a model of honesty, who would have starved to death rather than touch the gold intrusted to his care,—he consoled Malgat, finding all kinds of apology for him, telling him, that, after all, he was not so very much to blame, that there were temptations too strong to be resisted, and repeating even those paradoxical principles which have been specially invented as an apology for thieves. Malgat had still some money of his own; but M. Elgin did not ask him for it, for fear of hurting his feelings. He continued to invite him, and urged him to come and dine with us as heretofore.”

She stopped, laughing in a nervous manner, which was painful to hear, and then continued, in a hoarse voice,—

“Do you know, M. Champcey, how Malgat repaid all this kindness? Read this note; it will restore me in your esteem, I trust.”

It was another letter written by Malgat to M. Elgin, and ran thus,—

“M. Elgin,—I have deceived you. It was not ten thousand dollars I had taken, but sixty thousand five hundred dollars.

“Thanks to false entries, I have been able to conceal my defalcations until now; but I can do so no longer. The board of directors have begun to suspect me; and the president has just told me that tomorrow the books will be examined. I am lost.

“I ought to kill myself, I know; but I have not the courage to do so. I