THE COMPLETE WORKS OF ÉMILE ZOLA. Эмиль Золя
answered Blanche, “but I have never troubled about the money.”
“Your son requires nothing now, and so long as he remains with us, he may be poor but we will bestow a wealth of tenderness and happiness on him. Still, some day, a fortune, in his hands, may be a powerful lever. You do not intend to deprive him of your estate?”
“I told you I was leaving the world, I shall be like one who is dead.”
“That is another reason for assuring his future. Ask M. de Cazalis for a statement of his account. Set your affairs in order before you disappear.”
Blanche shuddered.
“Oh! I shall never dare do that,” she murmured. “You have no idea of the terrible power my uncle exercises over me: a mere look crushes me. No, I cannot ask him for a statement.”
“However, your son’s interests require it.”
“No, I tell you, I have not the courage.”
Fine for an instant was silent and embarrassed. Her duty urged her to insist, she would have liked to overcome Blanche’s cowardly attitude.
“As you will not act yourself,” she continued at last, “allow others to watch over the interests of this poor little creature. You make no objection to the fortune, which you now appear to abandon, being, one of these days, claimed on his behalf?”
“You are cruel,” answered the young mother, with tears in her eyes, “you make me feel my weakness and powerlessness to act. You know that I give you all authority.”
“Then nothing is lost. Do not put your name to any document, do not sign away a single inch of your property. And, moreover, as soon as you are better, let me have the certificates establishing your son’s identity. In that way we shall be strong, and able to speak with authority when the time comes.”
Blanche seemed overcome with these questions of money. Had she been possessed of the least energy, she would not have withdrawn from the struggle, she would have lived for her child, protected him, herself, and defended his interests. The flower-girl guessed the tenor of her reflections and added in a lower voice:
“If I have caused you pain, if I have put all these questions to you, it is because there is a man who has claims on this child, and who one of these days will himself watch over his interests. I shall then want to give him an account of my mission and instruct him as to how he must proceed in order to complete it.”
Blanche burst out sobbing:
“I have never spoken to you of Philippe,” she exclaimed, “because I ought to think of him no more. He left within me a love that has devoured me and brought me to repentance. Tell him I have loved him to the point of quitting this world at the age of seventeen, and tell him I entreat him to labour for the welfare of our son. Whatever he does will have my approval.”
Just at that moment Fine heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs. She rose, hurriedly wrapped her cloak around her and took the child which the weeping mother was holding out to her, and passionately kissing again and again. This farewell was full of mute despair and anxious haste.
Blanche got out of bed to accompany Fine and close the door behind her. On the threshold she gave the little one a last kiss on the forehead. Then, she had only just time to pull back the bolt of her bedroom door and get into bed again. Her uncle entered softly.
CHAPTER IV
IN WHICH M. DE CAZALIS RUNS THE RISK OF LOSING HIS HEAD WHILE LOSING HIS GREAT NEPHEW
M. DE CAZALIS had fallen half asleep downstairs in a sitting-room under Blanche’s bedroom. In this drowsy state, it had several times seemed to him that he heard people walking about overhead. A more distinct sound ended by awakening him with a start. He stood up, full of distrust, and went to make sure whether he had been dreaming or not. But all he feared was that Blanche might have risen to write a letter and thus inform her friends outside of what had occurred. It never entered his head that someone could have penetrated within the house, for he had kept an eye on the front door like a watchdog.
He went upstairs determined to see what his niece was doing. As he heard nothing moving, he gently pushed the door open and cast a look round the room. By the pale glimmer of the night-light, he perceived Blanche with her eyes closed, and her face half hidden by the bedclothes, apparently in a heavy sleep. Encouraged by the silence, he resolved to be quite sure by making a minute inspection of the apartments; he first of all searched the dressing-room and found nothing suspicious; he returned to the bedroom and there was nothing there. He was already smiling at his childish alarm, when a thought flashed across his mind and he suppressed an exclamation. He had not seen the child.
Although he had already peered into every corner he renewed his search. He brutally shook the bed without Blanche opening her eyes, and it did not even occur to him from this circumstance that she was feigning slumber. His mind was a prey to the most excruciating agony, and in despair he ended by moving round like a wild beast, having but one idea, that of finding the newborn babe at any cost. In his anxiety he stooped down and looked under the articles of furniture, imagining his niece had hidden her son somewhere, to make him afraid and drive him mad. For nearly a quarter of an hour he ferreted about in a fury, returning to the same spot ten times over, unable to believe the dreadful truth.
When he was tired, when he had acquired the certitude that the child was neither in the bedroom nor dressing-room, he went and stood before the bed where Blanche was lying exhausted and motionless. He gazed in a stupid manner round the room, where the little one had been when he had last left his niece, and repeated methodically: “He was there and is there no longer.” These words found a painful echo in his brain.
At first he did not think of seeking a solution to this strange disappearance. He saw only the fact, and his fright showed him in a flash, all the consequences of that fact.
All his calculations were baffled. Blanche’s heir was no longer in his hands, and he would be compelled, some day or other, to give him a statement as to what he had clone with his mother’s money. That meant shame and misery; it would be ascertained that he had already made an inroad into his niece’s fortune and they would take away from him the riches which alone upheld his power. This frightful blow was the forerunner of a series of reprisals. He had no doubt as to the hand that had dealt it, he recognised a vengeance of the Cayols, and he was in terror at the thought that these people had now his honour at their command. He saw that he was at their mercy, and that they could inflict most terrible chastisement on him for his pride.
What irritated him above all was failing at the last moment. A few hours longer and Philippe’s son would have been placed beyond reach of the Cayols. He felt that if he had not given way to Blanche’s tears the child would already have been far away. This thought reminded him of all the precautions he had taken, and he said to himself that a clever plan had never so miserably failed. Little by little he became angry, and gave way to blind irritability at seeing himself duped in this cruel way.
Then he tried to understand how the child had been carried off and this mental investigation increased his anger. He understood that his niece must have had a hand in the conspiracy, and had half a mind to beat her.
“What have you done with him?” he inquired, in a gruff voice.
Blanche had been trembling between the sheets ever since her uncle had entered the room. She kept her eyes obstinately closed in order that she might not see him, and also to delay the scene she foresaw was coming. She listened with terror to the sound of his footsteps, she followed him in his fruitless search, and in a measure as the crisis drew nearer, she trembled more violently and became still more icy cold. When he came and stood beside the bed, and examined her, motionless, dumb with stupor, she imagined he was reflecting on the means of putting an end to her existence. His loud voice made her open her eyes; but her throat was dry, thick with agony, and she could not answer.
“What have you done with the child?” M. de Cazalis asked her again in a stifled voice.