'There, take everything and have done with it!' she cried at last, throwing herself into an arm-chair.
La Sarriette was already eagerly trying the key in the locks of different closets. Madame Lecoeur, all suspicion, pressed her so closely that she exclaimed: 'Really, aunt, you get in my way. Do leave my arms free, at any rate.'
At last they succeeded in opening a wardrobe opposite the window, between the fireplace and the bed. And then all four women broke into exclamations. On the middle shelf lay some ten thousand francs in gold, methodically arranged in little piles. Gavard, who had prudently deposited the bulk of his fortune in the hands of a notary, had kept this sum by him for the purposes of the coming outbreak. He had been wont to say with great solemnity that his contribution to the revolution was quite ready. The fact was that he had sold out certain stock, and every night took an intense delight in contemplating those ten thousand francs, gloating over them, and finding something quite roysterous and insurrectional in their appearance. Sometimes when he was in bed he dreamed that a fight was going on in the wardrobe; he could hear guns being fired there, paving-stones being torn up and piled into barricades, and voices shouting in clamorous triumph; and he said to himself that it was his money fighting against the Government.
La Sarriette, however, had stretched out her hands with a cry of delight.
'Paws off, little one!' exclaimed Madame Lecoeur in a hoarse voice.
As she stood there in the reflection of the gold, she looked yellower than ever-her face discoloured by biliousness, her eyes glowing feverishly from the liver complaint which was secretly undermining her. Behind her Mademoiselle Saget on tip-toe was gazing ecstatically into the wardrobe, and Madame Leonce had now risen from her seat, and was growling sulkily.
'My uncle said I was to take everything,' declared the girl.
'And am I to have nothing, then; I who have done so much for him?' cried the doorkeeper.
Madame Lecoeur was almost choking with excitement. She pushed the others away, and clung hold of the wardrobe, screaming: 'It all belongs to me! I am his nearest relative. You are a pack of thieves, you are! I'd rather throw it all out of the window than see you have it!'
Then silence fell, and they all four stood glowering at each other. The kerchief that La Sarriette wore over her breast was now altogether unfastened, and she displayed her bosom heaving with warm life, her moist red lips, her rosy nostrils. Madame Lecoeur grew still more sour as she saw how lovely the girl looked in the excitement of her longing desire.
'Well,' she said in a lower tone, 'we won't fight about it. You are his niece, and I'll divide the money with you. We will each take a pile in turn.'
Thereupon they pushed the other two aside. The butter dealer took the first pile, which at once disappeared within her skirts. Then La Sarriette took a pile. They kept a close watch upon one another, ready to fight at the slightest attempt at cheating. Their fingers were thrust forward in turn, the hideous knotted fingers of the aunt and the white fingers of the niece, soft and supple as silk. Slowly they filled their pockets. When there was only one pile left, La Sarriette objected to her aunt taking it, as she had commenced; and she suddenly divided it between Mademoiselle Saget and Madame Leonce, who had watched them pocket the gold with feverish impatience.
'Much obliged to you!' snarled the doorkeeper. 'Fifty francs for having coddled him up with tisane and broth! The old deceiver told me he had no relatives!'
Before locking the wardrobe up again, Madame Lecoeur searched it thoroughly from top to bottom. It contained all the political works which were forbidden admission into the country, the pamphlets printed at Brussels, the scandalous histories of the Bonapartes, and the foreign caricatures ridiculing the Emperor. One of Gavard's greatest delights was to shut himself up with a friend, and show him all these compromising things.
'He told me that I was to burn all the papers,' said La Sarriette.
'Oh, nonsense! we've no fire, and it would take up too long. The police will soon be here! We must get out of this!'
They all four hastened off; but they had not reached the bottom of the stairs before the police met them, and made Madame Leonce return with them upstairs. The three others, making themselves as small as possible, hurriedly escaped into the street. They walked away in single file at a brisk pace; the aunt and niece considerably incommoded by the weight of their drooping pockets. Mademoiselle Saget had kept her fifty francs in her closed fist, and remained deep in thought, brooding over a plan for extracting something more from the heavy pockets in front of her.
'Ah!' she exclaimed, as they reached the corner of the fish market, 'we've got here at a lucky moment. There's Florent yonder, just going to walk into the trap.'
Florent, indeed, was just then returning to the markets after his prolonged perambulation. He went into his office to change his coat, and then set about his daily duties, seeing that the marble slabs were properly washed, and slowly strolling along the alleys. He fancied that the fish-wives looked at him in a somewhat strange manner; they chuckled too, and smiled significantly as he passed them. Some new vexation, he thought, was in store for him. For some time past those huge, terrible women had not allowed him a day's peace. However, as he passed the Mehudins' stall he was very much surprised to hear the old woman address him in a honeyed tone: 'There's just been a gentleman inquiring for you, Monsieur Florent; a middle-aged gentleman. He's gone to wait for you in your room.'
As the old fish-wife, who was squatting, all of a heap, on her chair, spoke these words, she felt such a delicious thrill of satisfied vengeance that her huge body fairly quivered. Florent, still doubtful, glanced at the beautiful Norman; but the young woman, now completely reconciled with her mother, turned on her tap and slapped her fish, pretending not to hear what was being said.
'You are quite sure?' said Florent to Mother Mehudin.
'Oh, yes, indeed. Isn't that so, Louise?' said the old woman in a shriller voice.
Florent concluded that it must be some one who wanted to see him about the great business, and he resolved to go up to his room. He was just about to leave the pavilion, when, happening to turn round, he observed the beautiful Norman watching him with a grave expression on her face. Then he passed in front of the three gossips.
'Do you notice that there's no one in the pork shop?' remarked Mademoiselle Saget. 'Beautiful Lisa's not the woman to compromise herself.'
The shop was, indeed, quite empty. The front of the house was still bright with sunshine; the building looked like some honest, prosperous pile guilelessly warming itself in the morning rays. Up above, the pomegranate on the balcony was in full bloom. As Florent crossed the roadway he gave a friendly nod to Logre and Monsieur Lebigre, who appeared to be enjoying the fresh air on the doorstep of the latter's establishment. They returned his greeting with a smile. Florent was then about to enter the side-passage, when he fancied he saw Auguste's pale face hastily vanishing from its dark and narrow depths. Thereupon he turned back and glanced into the shop to make sure that the middle- aged gentleman was not waiting for him there. But he saw no one but Mouton, who sat on a block displaying his double chin and bristling whiskers, and gazed at him defiantly with his great yellow eyes. And when he had at last made up his mind to enter the passage, Lisa's face appeared behind the little curtain of a glazed door at the back of the shop.
A hush had fallen over the fish market. All the huge paunches and bosoms held their breath, waiting till Florent should disappear from sight. Then there was an uproarious outbreak; and the bosoms heaved wildly and the paunches nearly burst with malicious delight. The joke had succeeded. Nothing could be more comical. As old Mother Mehudin vented her merriment she shook and quivered like a wine-skin that is being emptied. Her story of the middle-aged gentleman went the round of the market, and the fish-wives found it extremely amusing. At last the long spindle-shanks was collared, and they would no longer always have his miserable face and gaol-bird's expression before their eyes. They all wished him a pleasant journey, and trusted that they might get a handsome fellow for their next inspector. And in their delight they rushed about from one stall to another, and felt inclined to dance round their marble slabs like a lot of holiday-making schoolgirls. The beautiful Norman, however, watched this outbreak of joy in a rigid attitude, not daring to move for fear she should burst into tears; and she kept her hands pressed upon a big skate to cool her feverish excitement.
'You see how those Mehudins turn their backs upon him now that he's come to grief,' said Madame Lecoeur.
'Well, and they're quite right too,' replied Mademoiselle Saget. 'Besides, matters are settled now, my dear, and we're to have no more disputes. You've every reason to be satisfied; leave the others to act as they
