The Slaves of Paris by Émile Gaboriau (good book recommendations .txt) 📕

“Your own

“Flavia.”

“Did not this letter go straight to your heart?” asked Tantaine.

“Of course it did. Why, she will have a million for her wedding portion!”

On hearing these words, Tantaine started up with so threatening an aspect that Paul recoiled a step, but a warning look from the doctor restrained the old man’s indignation.

“He is a perfect sham!” muttered he; “even his vices are mere pretence.”

“He is our pupil, and is what we have made him,” whispered Tantaine.

Meanwhile Tantaine had gone up to Paul, and, placing his hand caressingly on his shoulder, said⁠—

“My boy, you will never know how much you owe to Mademoiselle Flavia.”

Paul could not understand the meaning of this scene. These men had done their best to pervert his morals, and to deaden the voice of his conscience, and now that he had hoped to earn their praise by an affectation of cynicism they were displeased with him. Before, however, he could ask a question, Tantaine had completely recovered his self-command.

“My dear boy,” said he, “I am quite satisfied with you. I came here today expecting to find you still undecided, and I am pleased with the change.”

“But, sir⁠—” said Paul.

“On the contrary, you are firm and strong.”

“Yes, he has got on so well,” said the doctor, “that we should now treat him as one of ourselves, and confide more in him. Tonight, my young friend, M. Mascarin will get from Caroline Schimmel the solution of the riddle that has for so long perplexed us. Be at the office tomorrow at ten o’clock, and you shall be told everything.”

Paul would have asked more questions, but Tantaine cut him short with a brief good morning, and went off hurriedly, taking the doctor with him, and seemingly wishing to avoid a hazardous and unpleasant explanation.

“Let us get out of this,” whispered he. “In another moment I should have knocked the conceited ass down. Oh, my Flavia! my poor Flavia! your weakness of today will yet cost you very dear!”

Paul remained rooted to the ground, with an expression of surprise and confusion upon every line of his face. All his pride and vanity had gone. “I wonder,” muttered he, “what these disagreeable persons are saying about me? Perhaps laughing at my inexperience and ridiculing my aspirations.” The idea made him grind his teeth with rage; but he was mistaken, for neither Tantaine nor the doctor mentioned his name after they had left his apartment. As they walked up the Rue Montmartre, all their ideas were turning upon how it would be easiest to checkmate André.

“I have not yet got sufficient information to act on,” remarked Tantaine meditatively. “My present plan is to remain perfectly quiescent, and I have told Croisenois not to make a move of any kind. I have an eye and ear watching and listening when they think themselves in perfect privacy. Very soon I shall fathom their plans, and then⁠—, but in the meantime have faith in me, and do not let the matter worry you.”

On the boulevard Tantaine took leave of his friend.

“I shall very likely not see you tonight, for I have an appointment at the Grand Turk with that precious young rascal, Toto Chupin. I must find Caroline, for I am sure that with her lies the Champdoce secret. She is very cunning, but has a weakness for drink, and, with Satan’s help, I hope to find out the special liquor which will make her open her lips freely.”

Tantaine took a cab, and, promising the cabman a handsome gratuity if he would drive fast, stopped at the spot where the Rue Blanche intersects the Rue de Douai, and told the coachman to wait for him, and entered the house where the younger Gandelu had installed the fair Madame de Chantemille. It was some time before his ring at the door was answered, but at last the door was opened by a stout, red-faced girl, with an untidy cap. Upon seeing Tantaine, she uttered an exclamation of delight, for it was the cook that had been placed in Zora’s employment by M. Mascarin’s agency.

“Ah, Daddy Tantaine,” said she, “you are as welcome as the sun in winter.”

“Hush, hush,” returned the old man, gazing cautiously round him.

“Don’t be frightened,” returned the girl. “Madame has gone to a place from whence there is no return ticket, at least, for some time. You know the greater the value of an article the closer we keep it under lock and key.”

Tantaine gathered from this that Rose had been arrested, and his astonishment appeared to be unmeasured.

“Surely you don’t mean that she has gone to quod?” said he.

“It is as I tell you,” answered she; “but come in, and have a glass of wine, while you hear all about it.”

She led the old man into the dining-room, round the table in which a half dozen guests were seated, just concluding a late breakfast. Tantaine at once recognized four of the several guests as servants whom he knew from their having applied for situations at the office, and there were two men of a very unprepossessing exterior.

“We are having a regular spree today,” observed the cook, handing a bottle to Tantaine; “but yesterday there was not much of a jollification here, for just as I was setting about getting the dinner two fellows came in and asked for my mistress, and as soon as they saw her they clapped their hands on her and said that she must come to the stone jug. When madame heard this she shrieked so loud as to have been heard in the next street. She would not go a foot with them, clung to the furniture and banisters, so they just took her up by the head and feet, and carried her down to a cab that was standing at the door. I seem to bring ill luck wherever I go, for this is the fourth mistress I have seen taken off in this way; but come,