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

swore to rid himself of his troublesome accomplice as soon as possible.

Although it was not an easy matter to dispose of so cunning a knave, Clameran felt no hesitation in undertaking to accomplish his purpose. He was incited by one of those passions which age renders terrible.

The more certain he was of Madeleine’s contempt and dislike, the more determined he was to marry her. His love seemed to be a sort of insane desire to possess and call his own the one being whom he recognized as his superior in every way.

But he had sense enough to see that he might ruin his prospects by undue haste, and that the safest course would be to await the result of the robbery and its effect upon Prosper.

He waited in anxious expectation of a summons from Mme. Fauvel. At last he concluded that Madeleine was waiting for him to make the next move in the direction of yielding.

He was right; Madeleine knew that after the last bold step the accomplices would remain quiet for a while; she knew resistance could have no worse results than would cowardly submission; and therefore assumed the entire responsibility of managing the affair so as to keep at bay both Raoul and Clameran.

She knew that Mme. Fauvel would be anxious to accept any terms of peace, but she determined to use all her influence to prevent her doing this, and to force upon her the necessity of preserving a dignified silence.

This accounted for the silence of the two women, who were quietly waiting for their adversaries to renew hostilities.

They even succeeded in concealing their anxiety beneath assumed indifference; never asking any questions about the robbery, or those in any way connected with it.

M. Fauvel brought them an account of Prosper’s examination, the many charges brought against him, his obstinate denial of having stolen the money; and finally how, after great perplexity and close study of the case by the judge of instruction, the cashier had been discharged for want of sufficient proof against him.

Since Clameran’s offer to restore the notes, Mme. Fauvel had not doubted Prosper’s guilt. She said nothing, but inwardly accused him of having seduced her son from the path of virtue, and enticed him into crime⁠—her son whom she would never cease to love, no matter how great his faults.

Madeleine had perfect faith in Prosper’s innocence.

She was so confident of his being restored to liberty that she ventured to ask her uncle, under pretext of some charitable object, to give her ten thousand francs, which she sent to the unfortunate victim of circumstantial evidence; who, from what she had heard of his poverty, must be in need of assistance.

In the letter⁠—cut from her prayerbook to avoid detection by writing⁠—accompanying the money, she advised Prosper to leave France, because she knew that it would be impossible for a man of his proud nature to remain on the scene of his disgrace; the greater his innocence, the more intolerable his suffering.

Besides, Madeleine, at that time feeling that she would be obliged to marry Clameran, was anxious to have the man she loved far, far away from her.

On the day that this anonymous present was sent, in opposition to the wishes of Mme. Fauvel, the two poor women were entangled fearfully in pecuniary difficulties.

The tradesmen whose money had been squandered by Raoul refused to give credit any longer, and insisted upon their bills being paid at once; saying they could not understand how a man of M. Fauvel’s wealth and position could keep them waiting for such insignificant sums.

The butcher, grocer, and wine-merchant had bills of one, two, and five hundred francs only; but, not having even that small amount, Mme. Fauvel had difficulty in prevailing upon them to receive a part on account, and wait a little longer for the residue.

Some of the storekeepers threatened to ask the banker for their money, if everything was not settled before the end of the week.

Alas! Mme. Fauvel’s indebtedness amounted to fifteen thousand francs.

Madeleine and her aunt had declined all invitations during the winter, to avoid purchasing evening dresses; having always been remarkable for their superb toilets, seldom appearing in the same ball-dress twice, they dared not give rise to comment by wearing their old dresses, and knowing that M. Fauvel would be the first to ask the cause of this sudden change, as he liked to see them always the best-dressed women in the room.

But at last they were obliged to appear in public. M. Fauvel’s most intimate friends, the Messrs. Jandidier, were about to give a splendid ball, and, as fate would have it, a fancy ball, which would require the purchasing of costumes.

Where would the money come from?

They had been owing a large bill to their dressmaker for over a year. Would she consent to furnish them dresses on credit? They were ashamed to ask her.

Madeleine’s new maid, Palmyre Chocareille, extricated them from this difficulty.

This girl, who seemed to have suffered all the minor ills of life⁠—which, after all, are the hardest to bear⁠—seemed to have divined her mistress’s anxiety.

At any rate, she voluntarily informed Madeleine that a friend of hers, a first-class dressmaker, had just set up for herself, and would be glad to furnish materials and make the dresses on credit, for the sake of obtaining the patronage of Mme. Fauvel and her niece, which would at once bring her plenty of fashionable customers.

But, after this dilemma was settled, a still greater one presented itself.

Mme. Fauvel and her niece could not appear at a ball without jewelry; and every jewel they owned had been taken by Raoul, and pawned.

After thinking the matter over, Madeleine decided to ask Raoul to take some of the stolen money, and redeem the last set of jewels he had forced from his mother. She informed her aunt of her intention, and said, in a tone that admitted of no contradiction:

“Appoint an interview with Raoul: he will not dare to refuse you; and I will go in your stead.”

The next day, the courageous girl took a cab, and, regardless of the inclement