Other People's Money [70]
and from whom nothing can be expected but shame and disgrace!"
He filled the parlor with the sound of his voice, which rose like his wrath.
And at the thought of all the bitter reproaches which had been addressed to him by his father, and of all the humiliations that had been heaped upon him,
"Ah, the wretch!" he fairly shrieked, " - the coward!"
As pale as her brother, her face bathed in tears, and her beautiful hair hanging undone, Mlle. Gilberte drew herself up.
"He is our father, Maxence," she said gently.
But he interrupted her with a wild burst of laughter. "True," he answered; "and, by virtue of the law which is written in the code, we owe him affection and respect."
"Maxence! "murmured the girl in a beseeching tone. But he went on, nevertheless,
"Yes, he is our father, unfortunately. But I should like to know his titles to our respect and our affection. After making our mother the most miserable of creatures, he has embittered our existence, withered our youth, ruined my future, and done his best to spoil yours by compelling you to marry Costeclar. And, to crown all these deeds of kindness, he runs away now, after stealing twelve millions, leaving us nothing but misery and a disgraced name.
"And yet," he added, "is it possible that a cashier should take twelve millions, and his employer know nothing of it? And is our father really the only man who benefitted by these millions?"
Then came back to the mind of Maxence and Mlle. Gilberte the last words of their father at the moment of his flight,
" I have been betrayed; and I must suffer for all!"
And his sincerity could hardly be called in question; for he was then in one of those moments of decisive crisis in which the truth forces itself out in spite of all calculation.
"He must have accomplices then," murmured Maxence.
Although he had spoken very low, Mme. Favoral overheard him. To defend her husband, she found a remnant of energy, and, straightening herself on her seat,
"Ah! do not doubt it," she stammered out. "Of his own inspiration, Vincent could never have committed an evil act. He has been circumvented, led away, duped!"
"Very well; but by whom?"
"By Costeclar," affirmed Mlle. Gilberte.
"By the Messrs. Jottras, the bankers," said Mme. Favoral, "and also by M. Saint Pavin, the editor of 'the Financial Pilot.'"
"By all of them, evidently," interrupted Maxence, "even by his manager, M. de Thaller."
When a man is at the bottom of a precipice, what is the use of finding out how he has got there, - whether by stumbling over a stone, or slipping on a tuft of grass! And yet it is always our foremost thought. It was with an eager obstinacy that Mme. Favoral and her children ascended the course of their existence, seeking in the past the incidents and the merest words which might throw some light upon their disaster; for it was quite manifest that it was not in one day and at the same time that twelve millions had been subtracted from the Mutual Credit. This enormous deficit must have been, as usual, made gradually, with infinite caution at first, whilst there was a desire, and some hope, to make it good again, then with mad recklessness towards the end when the catastrophe had become inevitable.
"Alas!" murmured Mme. Favoral, "why did not Vincent listen to my presentiments on that ever fatal day when he brought M. de Thaller, M. Jottras, and M. Saint Pavin to dine here? They promised him a fortune."
Maxence and Mlle. Gilberte were too young at the time of that dinner to have preserved any remembrance of it; but they remembered many other circumstances, which, at the time they had taken place, had not struck them. They understood now the temper of their father, his perpetual irritation, and the spasms of his humor. When his friends were heaping insults upon him, he had exclaimed,
"Be it so! let them arrest me; and to-night, for the first time in many years, I shall sleep in peace."
There were years, then, that he lived, as it were upon burning coals, trembling at the fear of discovery,
He filled the parlor with the sound of his voice, which rose like his wrath.
And at the thought of all the bitter reproaches which had been addressed to him by his father, and of all the humiliations that had been heaped upon him,
"Ah, the wretch!" he fairly shrieked, " - the coward!"
As pale as her brother, her face bathed in tears, and her beautiful hair hanging undone, Mlle. Gilberte drew herself up.
"He is our father, Maxence," she said gently.
But he interrupted her with a wild burst of laughter. "True," he answered; "and, by virtue of the law which is written in the code, we owe him affection and respect."
"Maxence! "murmured the girl in a beseeching tone. But he went on, nevertheless,
"Yes, he is our father, unfortunately. But I should like to know his titles to our respect and our affection. After making our mother the most miserable of creatures, he has embittered our existence, withered our youth, ruined my future, and done his best to spoil yours by compelling you to marry Costeclar. And, to crown all these deeds of kindness, he runs away now, after stealing twelve millions, leaving us nothing but misery and a disgraced name.
"And yet," he added, "is it possible that a cashier should take twelve millions, and his employer know nothing of it? And is our father really the only man who benefitted by these millions?"
Then came back to the mind of Maxence and Mlle. Gilberte the last words of their father at the moment of his flight,
" I have been betrayed; and I must suffer for all!"
And his sincerity could hardly be called in question; for he was then in one of those moments of decisive crisis in which the truth forces itself out in spite of all calculation.
"He must have accomplices then," murmured Maxence.
Although he had spoken very low, Mme. Favoral overheard him. To defend her husband, she found a remnant of energy, and, straightening herself on her seat,
"Ah! do not doubt it," she stammered out. "Of his own inspiration, Vincent could never have committed an evil act. He has been circumvented, led away, duped!"
"Very well; but by whom?"
"By Costeclar," affirmed Mlle. Gilberte.
"By the Messrs. Jottras, the bankers," said Mme. Favoral, "and also by M. Saint Pavin, the editor of 'the Financial Pilot.'"
"By all of them, evidently," interrupted Maxence, "even by his manager, M. de Thaller."
When a man is at the bottom of a precipice, what is the use of finding out how he has got there, - whether by stumbling over a stone, or slipping on a tuft of grass! And yet it is always our foremost thought. It was with an eager obstinacy that Mme. Favoral and her children ascended the course of their existence, seeking in the past the incidents and the merest words which might throw some light upon their disaster; for it was quite manifest that it was not in one day and at the same time that twelve millions had been subtracted from the Mutual Credit. This enormous deficit must have been, as usual, made gradually, with infinite caution at first, whilst there was a desire, and some hope, to make it good again, then with mad recklessness towards the end when the catastrophe had become inevitable.
"Alas!" murmured Mme. Favoral, "why did not Vincent listen to my presentiments on that ever fatal day when he brought M. de Thaller, M. Jottras, and M. Saint Pavin to dine here? They promised him a fortune."
Maxence and Mlle. Gilberte were too young at the time of that dinner to have preserved any remembrance of it; but they remembered many other circumstances, which, at the time they had taken place, had not struck them. They understood now the temper of their father, his perpetual irritation, and the spasms of his humor. When his friends were heaping insults upon him, he had exclaimed,
"Be it so! let them arrest me; and to-night, for the first time in many years, I shall sleep in peace."
There were years, then, that he lived, as it were upon burning coals, trembling at the fear of discovery,