Other People's Money by Emile Gaboriau (ebook smartphone txt) 📕

there was not one of them but would have wagered his head that M. Favoral had lots of money put away; and some went even so far as to say that he must have hid it in the house, and, if they looked well, they would find it.

Maxence, bewildered, was at a loss what to do, when, in the midst of this hostile crowd, he perceived M. Chapelain’s friendly face.

Driven from his bed at daylight by the bitter regrets at the heavy loss he had just sustained, the old lawyer had arrived in the Rue St. Gilles at the very moment when the creditors invaded M. Favoral’s apartment.  Standing behind the crowd, he had seen and heard every thing without breathing a word; and, if he interfered now, it was because he thought things were about to take an ugly turn.  He was well 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 many a worse case during twenty years that he had practised law, and had witnessed all the sinister comedies and all the grotesque dramas of money.  He knew how to speak to infuriated creditors, how to handle them, and what strings can be made to vibrate within them.  In the most quiet tone,

“Certainly,” he answered, “I was Favoral’s intimate friend; and the proof 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 skilful business-man; they stopped to listen to him.

At once, and in a short and trenchant tone, he asked these invaders what they were doing there, and what they wanted.  Did they not know to what they exposed themselves in violating a domicile?  What would have happened, if, instead of stopping to parley, Maxence had sent for the commissary of police?  Was it to Mme. Favoral and her children that they had intrusted their funds?  No!  What did they want with them then?  Was there by chance among them some of those shrewd fellows who always try to get themselves paid in full, to the detriment of the others?

This last insinuation proved sufficient to break up the perfect accord that had hitherto existed among all the creditors.  Distrust arose; suspicious glances were exchanged; and, as the old newspaper woman was keeping up her groans,

“I should like to know why you should be paid before us,” two women told 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 our confidence?  Was it in Favoral the private individual?  To a certain extent, yes; but it was much more to the cashier of the Mutual Credit.  Therefore that establishment owes us, at least, some explanations.  And this is not all.  Are we really so badly burned, that we should scream so loud?  What do we know about it?  That Favoral is charged with embezzlement, that they came to arrest him, and that he has run away.  Is that any reason why our money should be 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 just rendered 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 any honest man would have done in my place.”

And yet, under the appearance of impassible coldness, which he owed to the long practice of a profession which leaves no illusions, he evidently 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 I so well understood to what degree is guilty the head of a family who leaves his wife and children exposed to the consequences of his crimes.”

He stopped.  The servant was trying her best to put the dining-room in 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 whom we bought our things!  But they were worse than savages; impossible to do any thing with them.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, my good girl,” said M. Chapelain:  “they won’t come back any more!”

Mme. Favoral looked as if she wished to drop on her knees before the old lawyer.

“How, very kind you are!” she murmured:  “you are not too angry with my poor Vincent!”

With the look of a man who has made up his mind to make the best of a 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 caught in a pigeon-trap.  I am inexcusable.  But we want to get rich.  It’s slow work getting rich by working, and it’s so much easier to get the money already made out of our neighbor’s pockets!  I have been unable to resist the temptation myself.  It’s my own fault; and I should say it was a good lesson, if it did not cost so dear.”

XXIV

So much philosophy could hardly have been expected of him.

“All my father’s friends are not as indulgent as you are,” said Maxence,—“M.  Desclavettes, for instance.”

“Have you seen him?”

“Yes, last night, about twelve o’clock.  He came to ask us to get father to pay him back, if we should ever see him again.”

“That might be an idea!”

Mlle. Gilberte started.

“What!” said she, “you, too, sir, can imagine that my father has run away with millions?”

The old lawyer shook his head.

“I believe nothing,” he answered.  “Favoral has taken me in so completely,—me, who had the pretension of being a judge of men, —that nothing from him, either for good or for evil, could surprise me hereafter.”

Mme. Favoral was about to offer some objection; but he stopped her with a gesture.

“And yet,” he went on, “I’d bet that he has gone off with empty pockets.  His recent operations reveal a frightful distress.  Had he had a few thousand francs at his command, would he have extorted five hundred