File No. 113 by Émile Gaboriau (summer beach reads .txt) 📕

“Your great devotion does not prevent you planning the destruction of her present happiness.”

“Necessity compels me to do so. Nothing but the most cruel deceptions and the bitterest suffering would ever induce her to become my wife, to take me as the lesser of two evils. The day on which you have led Mme. Fauvel and her niece to the extreme edge of the precipice, pointed out its dark depths, and convinced them that they are irretrievably lost, I shall appear, and rescue them. I will play my part with such grandeur, such lofty magnanimity, that Madeleine will be touched, will forget her past enmity, and regard me with favorable eyes. When she finds that it is her sweet self, and not her money, that I want, she will soften, and in time yield to my entreaties. No true woman can be indifferent to a grand passion. I don’t pretend to say that she will love me at first; but, if she will only consent to be mine, I ask for nothing more; time will do much, even for a poor devil like myself.”

Raoul was shocked at this cold-blooded perversity of his uncle; but Clameran showed his immense superiority in wickedness, and the apprentice admired the master.

“You would certainly succeed, uncle,” he said, “were it not for the cashier. Between you and Madeleine, Prosper will always stand; if not in person, certainly in memory.”

Louis smiled scornfully, and, throwing away his cigar, which had died out, said:

“I don’t mind Prosper, or attach any more importance to him than to that cigar.”

“But she loves him.”

“So much the worse for him. Six months hence, she will despise him; he is already morally ruined, and at the proper time I will make an end of him socially. Do you know whither the road of dissipation leads, my good nephew? Prosper supports Gypsy, who is extravagant; he gambles, keeps fast horses, and gives suppers. Now, you gamble yourself, and know how much money can be squandered in one night; the losses of baccarat must be paid within twenty-four hours. He has lost heavily, must pay, and⁠—has charge of a money-safe.”

Raoul protested against this insinuation.

“It is useless to tell me that he is honest, that nothing would induce him to touch money that does not belong to him. I know better. Parbleu! I was honest myself until I learned to gamble. Any man with a grain of sense would have married Madeleine long ago, and sent us flying bag and baggage. You say she loves him! No one but a coward would be defrauded of the woman he loved and who loved him. Ah, if I had once felt Madeleine’s hand tremble in mine, if her rosy lips had once pressed a kiss upon my brow, the whole world could not take her from me. Woe to him who dared stand in my path! As it is, Prosper annoys me, and I intend to suppress him. With your aid I will so cover him with disgrace and infamy, that Madeleine will drive every thought of him from her mind, and her love will turn to hate.”

Louis’s tone of rage and vengeance startled Raoul, and made him regard the affair in a worse light than ever.

“You have given me a shameful, dastardly role to play,” he said after a long pause.

“My honorable nephew has scruples, I suppose,” said Clameran sneeringly.

“Not exactly scruples; yet I confess⁠—”

“That you want to retreat? Rather too late to sing that tune, my friend. You wish to enjoy every luxury, have your pockets filled with gold, cut a fine figure in high society, and remain virtuous. Are you fool enough to suppose a poor man can be honest? ’Tis a luxury pertaining to the wealthy. Did you ever see people such as we draw money from the pure fount of virtue? We must fish in muddy waters, and then wash ourselves clean, and enjoy the result of our labor.”

“I have never been rich enough to be honest,” said Raoul humbly; “but I must say it goes hard with me to torture two defenceless, frightened women, and ruin the character of a poor devil who regards me as his best friend. It is a low business!”

This resistance exasperated Louis to the last degree.

“You are the most absurd, ridiculous fool I ever met,” he cried. “An opportunity occurs for us to make an immense fortune. All we have to do is to stretch out our hands and take it; when you must needs prove refractory, like a whimpering baby. Nobody but an ass would refuse to drink when he is thirsty, because he sees a little mud at the bottom of the bucket. I suppose you prefer theft on a small scale, stealing by driblets. And where will your system lead you? To the poorhouse or the police-station. You prefer living from hand to mouth, supported by Mme. Fauvel, having small sums doled out to you to pay your little gambling debts.”

“I am neither ambitious nor cruel.”

“And suppose Mme. Fauvel dies tomorrow: what will become of you? Will you go cringing up to the widower, and implore him to continue your allowance?”

“Enough said,” cried Raoul, angrily interrupting his uncle. “I never had any idea of retreating. I made these objections to show you what infamous work you expect of me, and at the same time prove to you that without my assistance you can do nothing.”

“I never pretended to the contrary.”

“Then, my noble uncle, we might as well settle what my share is to be. Oh! it is not worth while for you to indulge in idle protestations. What will you give me in case of success? and what if we fail?”

“I told you before. I will give you twenty-five thousand livres a year, and all you can secure between now and my wedding-day.”

“This arrangement suits me very well; but where are your securities?”

This question was discussed a long time before it was satisfactorily settled by the accomplices, who had every reason to