The Lerouge Case by Emile Gaboriau (the dot read aloud .txt) 📕

I can repair them, and in a way that would surprise you. Yes, M. Clergeot, I can procure twenty-two thousand francs; I could have a hundred thousand to-morrow morning, if I saw fit. They would only cost me the trouble of asking for them. But that I will not do. My extravagance, with all due deference to you, will remain a secret as heretofore. I do not choose that my present embarrassed circumstances should be even suspected. I will not relinquish, for your sake, that at which I have been aiming, the very day it is within my grasp.”

“He resists,” thought the usurer; “he is less deeply involved than I imagined.”

“So,” continued the advocate, “put your bills in the hands of your lawyer. Let him sue me. In eight days, I shall be summoned to appear before the Tribunal de Commerce, and I shall ask for the twenty-five days’ delay, which the judges always grant to an embarrassed debtor. Twenty-five and eight, all the world over, make just thirty-three days. That is precisely the respite I need. You have two alternatives: either accept from me at once a new bill for twenty-four thousand francs payable in six weeks, or else, as I have an appointment, go off to your lawyer.”

“And in six weeks,” replied the usurer, “you will be in precisely the same condition you are to-day. And forty-five days more of Juliette will cost—”

“M. Clergeot,” interrupted Noel, “long before that time, my position will be completely changed. But I have finished,” he added rising; “and my time is valuable.”

“One moment, you impatient fellow!” exclaimed the good-natured banker, “you said twenty-four thousand francs at forty-five days?”

“Yes. That is about seventy-five per cent,—pretty fair interest.”

“I never cavil about interest,” said M. Clergeot; “only—” He looked slyly at Noel scratching his chin violently, a movement which in him indicated how insensibly his brain was at work. “Only,” he continued, “I should very much like to know what you are counting upon.”

“That I will not tell you. You will know it ere long, in common with all the world.”

“I have it!” cried M. Clergeot, “I have it! You are going to marry! You have found an heiress, of course, your little Juliette told me something of the sort this morning. Ah! you are going to marry! Is she pretty? But no matter. She has a full purse, eh? You wouldn’t take her without that. So you are going to start a home of your own?”

“I did not say so.”

“That’s right. Be discreet. But I can take a hint. One word more. Beware of the storm; your little woman has a suspicion of the truth. You are right; it wouldn’t do to be seeking money now. The slightest inquiry would be sufficient to enlighten your father-in-law as to your financial position, and you would lose the damsel. Marry and settle down. But get rid of Juliette, or I won’t give five francs for the fortune. So it is settled: prepare a new bill for twenty-four thousand francs, and I will call for it when I bring you the old ones on Monday.”

“You haven’t them with you, then?”

“No. And to be frank, I confess that, knowing well I should get nothing from you, I left them with others at my lawyer’s. However, you may rest easy: you have my word.”

M. Clergeot made a pretence of retiring; but just as he was going out, he returned quickly.

“I had almost forgotten,” said he; “while you are about it, you can make the bill for twenty-six thousand francs. Your little woman ordered some dresses, which I shall deliver to-morrow; in this way they will be paid for.”

The advocate began to remonstrate. He certainly did not refuse to pay, only he thought he ought to be consulted when any purchases were made. He didn’t like this way of disposing of his money.

“What a fellow!” said the usurer, shrugging his shoulders; “do you want to make the girl unhappy for nothing at all? She won’t let you off yet, my friend. You may be quite sure she will eat up your new fortune also. And you know, if you need any money for the wedding, you have but to give me some guarantee. Procure me an introduction to the notary, and everything shall be arranged. But I must go. On Monday then.”

Noel listened, to make sure that the usurer had actually gone. When he heard him descending the staircase, “Scoundrel!” he cried, “miserable thieving old skinflint! Didn’t he need a lot of persuading? He had quite made up his mind to sue me. It would have been a pleasant thing had the count come to hear of it. Vile usurer! I was afraid, one moment, of being obliged to tell him all.”

While inveighing thus against the money-lender, the advocate looked at his watch.

“Half-past five already,” he said.

His indecision was great. Ought he to go and dine with his father? Could he leave Madame Gerdy? He longed to dine at the de Commarin mansion; yet, on the other hand, to leave a dying woman!

“Decidedly,” he murmured, “I can’t go.”

He sat down at his desk, and with all haste wrote a letter of apology to his father. Madame Gerdy, he said, might die at any moment; he must remain with her. As he bade the servant give the note to a messenger, to carry it to the count, a sudden thought seemed to strike him.

“Does madame’s brother,” he asked, “know that she is dangerously ill?”

“I do not know, sir,” replied the servant, “at any rate, I have not informed him.”

“What, did you not think to send him word? Run to his house quickly. Have him sought for, if he is not at home; he must come.”

Considerably more at ease, Noel went and sat in the sick-room. The lamp was lighted; and the nun was moving about the room as though quite at home, dusting and arranging everything, and putting it in its place. She wore an air of satisfaction, that Noel did not fail to notice.

“Have we any gleam of hope, sister?” he asked.

“Perhaps,” replied the nun. “The priest has been here, sir; your dear mother did not notice his presence; but he is coming back. That is not all. Since the priest was here, the poultice has taken admirably. The skin is quite reddened. I am sure she feels it.”

“God grant that she does, sister!”

“Oh, I have already been praying! But it is important not to leave her alone a minute. I have arranged all with the servant. After the doctor has been, I shall lie down, and she will watch until one in the morning. I will then take her place and—”

“You shall both go to bed, sister,” interrupted Noel, sadly. “It is I, who could not sleep a wink, who will watch through this night.”