What Love Costs an Old Man. Honore de Balzac
wretch!" exclaimed Nucingen, drawing himself up in financial majesty.
He placed himself between Esther and Louchard, who took off his hat as Contenson cried out, "Monsieur le Baron de Nucingen."
At a signal from Louchard the bailiffs vanished from the room, respectfully taking their hats off. Contenson alone was left.
"Do you propose to pay, Monsieur le Baron?" asked he, hat in hand.
"I shall pay," said the banker; "but I must know vat dis is all about."
"Three hundred and twelve thousand francs and some centimes, costs paid; but the charges for the arrest not included."
"Three hundred thousand francs," cried the Baron; "dat is a fery 'xpensive vaking for a man vat has passed the night on a sofa," he added in Europe's ear.
"Is that man really the Baron de Nucingen?" asked Europe to Louchard, giving weight to the doubt by a gesture which Mademoiselle Dupont, the low comedy servant of the Francais, might have envied.
"Yes, mademoiselle," said Louchard.
"Yes," replied Contenson.
"I shall be answerable," said the Baron, piqued in his honor by Europe's doubt. "You shall 'llow me to say ein vort to her."
Esther and her elderly lover retired to the bedroom, Louchard finding it necessary to apply his ear to the keyhole.
"I lofe you more as my life, Esther; but vy gife to your creditors moneys vich shall be so much better in your pocket? Go into prison. I shall undertake to buy up dose hundert tousant crowns for ein hundert tousant francs, an' so you shall hafe two hundert tousant francs for you——"
"That scheme is perfectly useless," cried Louchard through the door. "The creditor is not in love with mademoiselle—not he! You understand? And he means to have more than all, now he knows that you are in love with her."
"You dam' sneak!" cried Nucingen, opening the door, and dragging Louchard into the bedroom; "you know not dat vat you talk about. I shall gife you, you'self, tventy per cent if you make the job."
"Impossible, M. le Baron."
"What, monsieur, you could have the heart to let my mistress go to prison?" said Europe, intervening. "But take my wages, my savings; take them, madame; I have forty thousand francs——"
"Ah, my good girl, I did not really know you!" cried Esther, clasping Europe in her arms.
Europe proceeded to melt into tears.
"I shall pay," said the Baron piteously, as he drew out a pocket-book, from which he took one of the little printed forms which the Bank of France issues to bankers, on which they have only to write a sum in figures and in words to make them available as cheques to bearer.
"It is not worth the trouble, Monsieur le Baron," said Louchard; "I have instructions not to accept payment in anything but coin of the realm—gold or silver. As it is you, I will take banknotes."
"Der Teufel!" cried the Baron. "Well, show me your papers."
Contenson handed him three packets covered with blue paper, which the Baron took, looking at the man, and adding in an undertone:
"It should hafe been a better day's vork for you ven you had gife me notice."
"Why, how should I know you were here, Monsieur le Baron?" replied the spy, heedless whether Louchard heard him. "You lost my services by withdrawing your confidence. You are done," added this philosopher, shrugging his shoulders.
"Qvite true," said the baron. "Ah, my chilt," he exclaimed, seeing the bills of exchange, and turning to Esther, "you are de fictim of a torough scoundrel, ein highway tief!"
"Alas, yes," said poor Esther; "but he loved me truly."
"Ven I should hafe known—I should hafe made you to protest——"
"You are off your head, Monsieur le Baron," said Louchard; "there is a third endorsement."
"Yes, dere is a tird endorsement—Cerizet! A man of de opposition."
"Will you write an order on your cashier, Monsieur le Baron?" said Louchard. "I will send Contenson to him and dismiss my men. It is getting late, and everybody will know that——"
"Go den, Contenson," said Nucingen. "My cashier lives at de corner of Rue des Mathurins and Rue de l'Arcate. Here is ein vort for dat he shall go to du Tillet or to de Kellers, in case ve shall not hafe a hundert tousant franc—for our cash shall be at de Bank.—Get dress', my anchel," he said to Esther. "You are at liberty.—An' old vomans," he went on, looking at Asie, "are more dangerous as young vomans."
"I will go and give the creditor a good laugh," said Asie, "and he will give me something for a treat to-day.—We bear no malice, Monsieur le Baron," added Saint-Esteve with a horrible courtesy.
Louchard took the bills out of the Baron's hands, and remained alone with him in the drawing-room, whither, half an hour later, the cashier came, followed by Contenson. Esther then reappeared in a bewitching, though improvised, costume. When the money had been counted by Louchard, the Baron wished to examine the bills; but Esther snatched them with a cat-like grab, and carried them away to her desk.
"What will you give the rabble?" said Contenson to Nucingen.
"You hafe not shown much consideration," said the Baron.
"And what about my leg?" cried Contenson.
"Louchard, you shall gife ein hundert francs to Contenson out of the change of the tousand-franc note."
"De lady is a beauty," said the cashier to the Baron, as they left the Rue Taitbout, "but she is costing you ver' dear, Monsieur le Baron."
"Keep my segret," said the Baron, who had said the same to Contenson and Louchard.
Louchard went away with Contenson; but on the boulevard Asie, who was looking out for him, stopped Louchard.
"The bailiff and the creditor are there in a cab," said she. "They are thirsty, and there is money going."
While Louchard counted out the cash, Contenson studied the customers. He recognized Carlos by his eyes, and traced the form of his forehead under the wig. The wig he shrewdly regarded as suspicious; he took the number of the cab while seeming quite indifferent to what was going on; Asie and Europe puzzled him beyond measure. He thought that the Baron was the victim of excessively clever sharpers, all the more so because Louchard, when securing his services, had been singularly close. And besides, the twist of Europe's foot had not struck his shin only.
"A trick like that is learned at Saint-Lazare," he had reflected as he got up.
Carlos dismissed the bailiff, paying him liberally, and as he did so, said to the driver of the cab, "To the Perron, Palais Royal."
"The rascal!" thought Contenson as he heard the order. "There is something up!" Carlos drove to the Palais Royal at a pace which precluded all fear of pursuit. He made his way in his own fashion through the arcades, took another cab on the Place du Chateau d'Eau, and bid the man go "to the Passage de l'Opera, the end of the Rue Pinon."
A quarter of a hour later he was in the Rue Taitbout. On seeing him, Esther said:
"Here are the fatal papers."
Carlos took the bills, examined them, and then burned them in the kitchen fire.
"We have done the trick," he said, showing her three hundred and ten thousand francs in a roll, which he took out of the pocket of his coat. "This, and the hundred thousand francs squeezed out by Asie, set us free to act."
"Oh God, oh God!" cried poor Esther.
"But, you idiot," said the ferocious swindler, "you have only to be ostensibly Nucingen's mistress, and you can always see Lucien; he is Nucingen's friend; I do not forbid your being madly in love with him."
Esther saw a glimmer of light in her darkened life; she breathed once more.
"Europe,