The Count's Millions [118]
he felt disposed to pursue was to disappear and fly from the storm of slander and contempt; and then, in a secure hiding-place, to watch for the time and opportunity of rehabilitation and revenge.
Madame Ferailleur and her son made all needful arrangements. "I shall start out at once," said Pascal, "and before two hours have elapsed I shall have found a modest lodging, where we must conceal ourselves for the present. I know a locality that will suit us, and where no one will certainly ever think of looking for us."
"And I," asked Madame Ferailleur, "what shall I do in the meantime?"
"You, mother; you must, at once, sell all that we possess here-- everything--even my books. You will only keep such of our linen and clothes as you can pack in three or four trunks. We are undoubtedly watched; and so it is of the utmost importance that every one should imagine I have left Paris, and that you are going to join me."
"And when everything is sold, and my trunks are ready?"
"Then, mother, you must send some one for a cab, and order the driver to take you to the Western Railway Station, where you will have the trunks removed from the cab and placed in the baggage- room, as if you did not intend to leave Paris till the next day."
"Very good, I will do so; even if any one is watching us, he won't be likely to suspect this ruse. But afterward?"
"Afterward, mother, you must go to the waiting-room upstairs, and you will find me there. I will then take you to the rooms I shall have rented, and to-morrow we'll send a messenger with the receipt the railway people will give you, to fetch our luggage for us."
Madame Ferailleur approved of this plan, deeming herself fortunate in this great calamity that despair had not destroyed her son's energy and resources of mind. "Shall we retain our name, Pascal?"
"Oh, no. That would be an unpardonable imprudence."
"What name shall we take, then? I must know, for they may ask me at the station."
He reflected for a moment and then said: "We'll take your maiden name, mother. It will bring us good luck. Our new lodgings shall be hired in the name of the Widow Maumejan."
They talked for some time longer, anxious to take every precaution that prudence could suggest. And when they were convinced that they had forgotten nothing, Madame Ferailleur suggested that Pascal should start off. But before doing so he had a sacred duty to perform. "I must warn Marguerite," he muttered. And seating himself at his desk, he wrote his beloved a concise and exact account of the events which had taken place. He told her of the course he intended to pursue; and promised her that she should know his new abode as soon as he knew it himself. In conclusion, he entreated her to grant him an interview, in which he could give her the full particulars of the affair and acquaint her with his hopes. As for exculpating himself, even by so much as a single word--as for explaining the snare he had been the victim of, the idea never once occurred to him. He was worthy of Mademoiselle Marguerite; he knew that not a doubt would disturb the perfect faith she had in his honor.
Leaning over her son's shoulder, Madame Ferailleur read what he had written. "Do you intend to trust this letter to the post?" she inquired. "Are you sure, perfectly sure, that it will reach Mademoiselle Marguerite, and not some one else who might use it against you?"
Pascal shook his head. "I know how to insure its safe receipt," he replied. "Some time ago, Marguerite told me that if ever any great peril threatened us, I might call for the housekeeper at the Chalusse mansion and intrust my message to her. The danger is sufficiently great to justify such a course in the present instance. So I shall pass down the Rue de Courcelles, ask to see Madame Leon, and give her this letter. Have no fear, my dear mother."
As he spoke, he began to pack all the legal documents which had been confided to him into a large box, which was to be carried to one of his former friends, who would distribute the papers among the
Madame Ferailleur and her son made all needful arrangements. "I shall start out at once," said Pascal, "and before two hours have elapsed I shall have found a modest lodging, where we must conceal ourselves for the present. I know a locality that will suit us, and where no one will certainly ever think of looking for us."
"And I," asked Madame Ferailleur, "what shall I do in the meantime?"
"You, mother; you must, at once, sell all that we possess here-- everything--even my books. You will only keep such of our linen and clothes as you can pack in three or four trunks. We are undoubtedly watched; and so it is of the utmost importance that every one should imagine I have left Paris, and that you are going to join me."
"And when everything is sold, and my trunks are ready?"
"Then, mother, you must send some one for a cab, and order the driver to take you to the Western Railway Station, where you will have the trunks removed from the cab and placed in the baggage- room, as if you did not intend to leave Paris till the next day."
"Very good, I will do so; even if any one is watching us, he won't be likely to suspect this ruse. But afterward?"
"Afterward, mother, you must go to the waiting-room upstairs, and you will find me there. I will then take you to the rooms I shall have rented, and to-morrow we'll send a messenger with the receipt the railway people will give you, to fetch our luggage for us."
Madame Ferailleur approved of this plan, deeming herself fortunate in this great calamity that despair had not destroyed her son's energy and resources of mind. "Shall we retain our name, Pascal?"
"Oh, no. That would be an unpardonable imprudence."
"What name shall we take, then? I must know, for they may ask me at the station."
He reflected for a moment and then said: "We'll take your maiden name, mother. It will bring us good luck. Our new lodgings shall be hired in the name of the Widow Maumejan."
They talked for some time longer, anxious to take every precaution that prudence could suggest. And when they were convinced that they had forgotten nothing, Madame Ferailleur suggested that Pascal should start off. But before doing so he had a sacred duty to perform. "I must warn Marguerite," he muttered. And seating himself at his desk, he wrote his beloved a concise and exact account of the events which had taken place. He told her of the course he intended to pursue; and promised her that she should know his new abode as soon as he knew it himself. In conclusion, he entreated her to grant him an interview, in which he could give her the full particulars of the affair and acquaint her with his hopes. As for exculpating himself, even by so much as a single word--as for explaining the snare he had been the victim of, the idea never once occurred to him. He was worthy of Mademoiselle Marguerite; he knew that not a doubt would disturb the perfect faith she had in his honor.
Leaning over her son's shoulder, Madame Ferailleur read what he had written. "Do you intend to trust this letter to the post?" she inquired. "Are you sure, perfectly sure, that it will reach Mademoiselle Marguerite, and not some one else who might use it against you?"
Pascal shook his head. "I know how to insure its safe receipt," he replied. "Some time ago, Marguerite told me that if ever any great peril threatened us, I might call for the housekeeper at the Chalusse mansion and intrust my message to her. The danger is sufficiently great to justify such a course in the present instance. So I shall pass down the Rue de Courcelles, ask to see Madame Leon, and give her this letter. Have no fear, my dear mother."
As he spoke, he began to pack all the legal documents which had been confided to him into a large box, which was to be carried to one of his former friends, who would distribute the papers among the