Other People's Money [139]
there was nothing more to say. Any way, he has cleared out, leaving his family without means. A very interesting family, it seems, too, - a wife who is goodness itself, and a charming daughter: at least, so says Costeclar, who, is very much in love with her."
M. de Tregars' countenance remained perfectly indifferent, like that of a man who is hearing about persons and things in which he does not take the slightest interest.
Mme. de Thaller noticed this.
But it isn't to tell you all this," she went on, "that I came up. It is an interested motive brought me. We have, some of my friends and myse1f, organized a lottery - a work of charity, my dear marquis, and quite patriotic - for the benefit of the Alsatians, I have lots of tickets to dispose of; and I've thought of you to help me out."
More smiling than ever,
"I am at your orders, madame," answered Marius, "but, in mercy, spare me."
She took out some tickets from a small shell pocket-book.
"Twenty, at ten francs," she said. "It isn't too much, is it?"
It is a great deal for my modest resources."
She pocketed the ten napoleons which he handed her, and, in a tone of ironical compassion,
"Are you so very poor, then?" she asked.
"Why, I am neither banker nor broker, you know."
She had risen, and was smoothing the folds of her dress.
"Well, my dear marquis," she resumed, "it is certainly not me who will pity you. When a man of your age, and with your name, remains poor, it is his own fault. Are there no rich heiresses?"
"I confess that I haven't tried to find one yet." She looked at him straight in the eyes, and then suddenly bursting out laughing,
"Look around you," she said, "and I am sure you'll not be long discovering a beautiful young girl, very blonde, who would be delighted to become Marquise de Tregars, and who would bring in her apron a dowry of twelve or fifteen hundred thousand francs in good securities, - securities which the Favorals can't carry off. Think well, and then come to see us. You know that M. de Thaller is very fond of you; and, after all the trouble we have been having, you owe us a visit."
Whereupon she went out, M. de Tregars, going down to escort her to her carriage. But as he came up,
"Attention!" he cried to Maxence; "for it's very evident that the Thallers have wind of something."
III
It was a revelation, that visit of Mme. de Thaller's; and there was no need of very much perspicacity to guess her anxiety beneath her bursts of laughter, and to understand that it was a bargain she had come to propose. It was evident, therefore, that Marius de Tregars held within his hands the principal threads of that complicated intrigue which had just culminated in that robbery of twelve millions. But would he be able to make use of them? What were his designs, and his means of action? That is what Maxence could not in any way conjecture.
He had no time to ask questions.
"Come," said M. Tregars, whose agitation was manifest, - " come, let us breakfast: we have not a moment to lose."
And, whilst his servant was bringing in his modest meal,
"I am expecting M. d'Escajoul," he said. "Show him in as soon as he comes."
Retired as he had lived from the financial world, Maxence had yet heard the name of Octave d'Escajoul.
Who has not seen him, happy and smiling, his eye bright, and his lip ruddy, notwithstanding his fifty years, walking on the sunny side of the Boulevard, with his royal blue jacket and his eternal white vest? He is passionately fond of everything that tends to make life pleasant and easy; dines at Bignon's, or the Caf e Anglais; plays baccarat at the dub with extraordinary luck; has the most comfortable apartment and the most elegant coupe in all Paris. With all this, he is pleased to declare that he is the happiest of men, and is certainly one of the most popular; for he cannot walk three blocks on the Boulevard without lifting his hat at least fifty times, and shaking hands twice as often.
And when any one asks, "What does he do?" the invariable answer is,
M. de Tregars' countenance remained perfectly indifferent, like that of a man who is hearing about persons and things in which he does not take the slightest interest.
Mme. de Thaller noticed this.
But it isn't to tell you all this," she went on, "that I came up. It is an interested motive brought me. We have, some of my friends and myse1f, organized a lottery - a work of charity, my dear marquis, and quite patriotic - for the benefit of the Alsatians, I have lots of tickets to dispose of; and I've thought of you to help me out."
More smiling than ever,
"I am at your orders, madame," answered Marius, "but, in mercy, spare me."
She took out some tickets from a small shell pocket-book.
"Twenty, at ten francs," she said. "It isn't too much, is it?"
It is a great deal for my modest resources."
She pocketed the ten napoleons which he handed her, and, in a tone of ironical compassion,
"Are you so very poor, then?" she asked.
"Why, I am neither banker nor broker, you know."
She had risen, and was smoothing the folds of her dress.
"Well, my dear marquis," she resumed, "it is certainly not me who will pity you. When a man of your age, and with your name, remains poor, it is his own fault. Are there no rich heiresses?"
"I confess that I haven't tried to find one yet." She looked at him straight in the eyes, and then suddenly bursting out laughing,
"Look around you," she said, "and I am sure you'll not be long discovering a beautiful young girl, very blonde, who would be delighted to become Marquise de Tregars, and who would bring in her apron a dowry of twelve or fifteen hundred thousand francs in good securities, - securities which the Favorals can't carry off. Think well, and then come to see us. You know that M. de Thaller is very fond of you; and, after all the trouble we have been having, you owe us a visit."
Whereupon she went out, M. de Tregars, going down to escort her to her carriage. But as he came up,
"Attention!" he cried to Maxence; "for it's very evident that the Thallers have wind of something."
III
It was a revelation, that visit of Mme. de Thaller's; and there was no need of very much perspicacity to guess her anxiety beneath her bursts of laughter, and to understand that it was a bargain she had come to propose. It was evident, therefore, that Marius de Tregars held within his hands the principal threads of that complicated intrigue which had just culminated in that robbery of twelve millions. But would he be able to make use of them? What were his designs, and his means of action? That is what Maxence could not in any way conjecture.
He had no time to ask questions.
"Come," said M. Tregars, whose agitation was manifest, - " come, let us breakfast: we have not a moment to lose."
And, whilst his servant was bringing in his modest meal,
"I am expecting M. d'Escajoul," he said. "Show him in as soon as he comes."
Retired as he had lived from the financial world, Maxence had yet heard the name of Octave d'Escajoul.
Who has not seen him, happy and smiling, his eye bright, and his lip ruddy, notwithstanding his fifty years, walking on the sunny side of the Boulevard, with his royal blue jacket and his eternal white vest? He is passionately fond of everything that tends to make life pleasant and easy; dines at Bignon's, or the Caf e Anglais; plays baccarat at the dub with extraordinary luck; has the most comfortable apartment and the most elegant coupe in all Paris. With all this, he is pleased to declare that he is the happiest of men, and is certainly one of the most popular; for he cannot walk three blocks on the Boulevard without lifting his hat at least fifty times, and shaking hands twice as often.
And when any one asks, "What does he do?" the invariable answer is,