“Please stay, M. le Président.”
There was not a person in the room who did not thrill with excitement at the words; M. de Bonfons, who was about to take his cane, turned quite white, and sat down again.
“The President takes the millions,” said Mlle. de Gribeaucourt.
“It is quite clear that President de Bonfons is going to marry Mlle. Grandet,” cried Mme. d’Orsonval.
“The best trick of the game!” commented the Abbé.
“A very pretty slam,” said the notary.
Everyone said his say and cut his joke, everyone thought of the heiress mounted upon her millions as if she were on a pedestal. Here was the catastrophe of the drama, begun nine years ago, taking place under their eyes. To tell the President in the face of all Saumur to “stay” was as good as announcing at once that she meant to take the magistrate for her husband. Social conventionalities are rigidly observed in little country towns, and such an infraction as this was looked upon as a binding promise.
“M. le Président,” Eugénie began in an unsteady voice, as soon as they were alone, “I know what you care about in me. Swear to leave me free till the end of my life, to claim none of the rights which marriage will give you over me, and my hand is yours. Oh!” she said, seeing him about to fall on his knees, “I have not finished yet. I must tell you frankly that there are memories in my heart which can never be effaced; that friendship is all that I can give my husband; I wish neither to affront him nor to be disloyal to my own heart. But you shall only have my hand and fortune at the price of an immense service which I want you to do me.”
“Anything, I will do anything,” said the president.
“Here are fifteen hundred thousand francs, M. le Président,” she said, drawing from her bodice a certificate for a hundred shares in the Bank of France; “will you set out for Paris? You must not even wait till the morning, but go at once, tonight. You must go straight to M. des Grassins, ask him for a list of my uncle’s creditors, call them together, and discharge all outstanding claims upon Guillaume Grandet’s estate. Let the creditors have capital and interest at five percent from the day the debts were contracted to the present time; and see that in every case a receipt in full is given, and that it is made out in proper form. You are a magistrate, you are the only person whom I feel that I can trust in such a case. You are a gentleman and a man of honor; you have given me your word, and, protected by your name, I will make the perilous voyage of life. We shall know how to make allowances for each other, for we have been acquainted for so long that it is almost as if we were related, and I am sure you would not wish to make me unhappy.”
The president fell on his knees at the feet of the rich heiress in a paroxysm of joy.
“I will be your slave!” he said.
“When all the receipts are in your possession, sir,” she went on, looking quietly at him, “you must take them, together with the bills, to my cousin Grandet, and give them to him with this letter. When you come back, I will keep my word.”
The president understood the state of affairs perfectly well. “She is accepting me out of pique,” he thought, and he hastened to do Mlle. Grandet’s bidding with all possible speed, for fear some chance might bring about a reconciliation between the lovers.
As soon as M. de Bonfons left her, Eugénie sank into her chair and burst into tears. All was over, and this was the end.
The president traveled post to Paris and reached his journey’s end on the following evening. The next morning he went to des Grassins, and arranged for a meeting of the creditors in the office of the notary with whom the bills had been deposited. Every man of them appeared, every man of them was punctual to a moment—one should give even creditors their dues.
M. de Bonfons, in Mlle. Grandet’s name, paid down the money in full, both capital and interest. They were paid interest! It was an amazing portent, a nine days’ wonder in the business world of Paris. After the whole affair had been wound up, and when, by Eugénie’s desire, des Grassins had received fifty thousand francs for his services, the president betook himself to the Hôtel d’Aubrion, and was lucky enough to find Charles at home, and in disgrace with his future father-in-law. The old Marquis had just informed that gentleman that until Guillaume Grandet’s creditors were satisfied, a marriage with his daughter was not to be thought of.
To Charles, thus despondent, the president delivered the following letter:—
Dear Cousin—M. le Président de Bonfons has undertaken to hand you a discharge of all claims against my uncle’s estate, and to deliver it in person, together with this letter, so that I may know that it is safely in your hands. I heard rumors of bankruptcy, and it occurred to me that difficulties might possibly arise as a consequence in the matter of your marriage with Mlle. d’Aubrion. Yes, cousin, you are quite right about my tastes and manners; I have lived, as you say, so entirely out of the world, that I know nothing of its ways or its calculations, and my companionship could never make up to you for the loss of the pleasures that you look to find in society. I hope that you will be happy according to the social conventions to which you have sacrificed our early love. The only thing in my power to give you to complete your happiness is your father’s good name. Farewell; you will always
