“If they get off to Paris, all is lost!” said Monsieur Hochon to himself.
At this moment a little boy from the Roman suburb came to Monsieur Hochon’s door; he had a letter for Baruch. The old man’s two grandsons, very humble since the morning, had of their own accord stayed at home. Reflecting on the future, they well understood how wise they would be to humor their grandparents. Baruch could not but know how great his grandfather Hochon’s influence would be over his grandfather and grandmother Borniche; Monsieur Hochon would not fail to secure the lion’s share of all their money to Adolphine if his conduct should justify them in founding their hopes on such a grand marriage as they had threatened him with that morning. Baruch, being much richer than François, had much to lose; so he was in favor of complete submission, making no conditions but that his debt to Max should be paid. François’ prospects were entirely in his grandfather’s hands; he had no fortune to look for but from him, since, from the account of his guardianship, the youth was his debtor. So the two young men made solemn promises, their repentance being stimulated by their damaged prospects, and Madame Hochon had reassured them as to the money they owed to Maxence.
“You have played the fool!” said she. “Repair the mischief by good conduct, and Monsieur Hochon will be mollified.”
Thus, when François had read the letter over Baruch’s shoulder, he said in his ear:
“Ask grandpapa what he thinks of it.”
“Here,” said Baruch, handing the letter to the old man. “Read it to me; I have not got my spectacles.”
“My dear Friend—
“I hope you will not hesitate, in the serious position in which I am placed, to do me a service by accepting the office of Monsieur Rouget’s attorney. Pray be at Vatan by nine o’clock tomorrow. I shall no doubt send you to Paris; but be quite easy, I will give you money for the journey, and join you ere long, for I am almost certain to be obliged to leave Issoudun on the 3rd of December. Adieu; I rely on your friendship, and you may rely on mine.
“God be praised!” said Monsieur Hochon, “that idiot’s fortune is safe from the clutches of those devils!”
“It must be so, since you say it,” observed Madame Hochon, “and I thank God for it; He no doubt has heard my prayers. The triumph of the wicked is always brief.”
“Go to Vatan, and accept the office of attorney to Monsieur Rouget,” said the old man to Baruch. “You will be desired to transfer stock bearing fifty thousand francs interest to the name of Mademoiselle Brazier. Set out for Paris, but stop at Orléans, and wait till you hear from me. Tell no one whatever where you put up, and go to the last inn you see in the Faubourg Bannier, even if it is but a carrier’s house of call.”
“Hey day!” cried François, who had rushed to the window at the sound of carriage-wheels in the Grande Narette; “here is something new! Père Rouget and Monsieur Philippe have come home together in the carriage, Benjamin and Monsieur Carpentier following them on horseback—”
“I will go across,” cried Monsieur Hochon, his curiosity getting the upper hand of every other feeling.
Monsieur Hochon found old Rouget in his room, writing the following letter from his nephew’s dictation:—
“Mademoiselle—
“If you do not set out the instant you receive this letter to return to me, your conduct will show so much ingratitude for all my kindness, that I shall revoke my will in your favor, and leave my whole fortune to my nephew Philippe. You must also understand that if Monsieur Gilet is with you at Vatan, he can never again live under my roof. I entrust this letter to Monsieur Carpentier to be delivered to you, and I hope you will listen to his advice, for he will speak to you as I should myself.
“Captain Carpentier and I happened to meet my uncle,” said Philippe to Monsieur Hochon with bitter irony. “He was so foolish as to intend going to Vatan to seek Mademoiselle Brazier and Major Gilet. I explained to my uncle that he was running head foremost into a trap. Will not that woman throw him over as soon as he shall have signed the power of attorney she insists on to enable her to transfer to herself the stock for fifty thousand francs a year? By writing this letter, will he not see her back here tonight, under his roof—the fair deserter! I promise I will make mademoiselle as pliant as a reed for the rest of her life, if only my uncle will allow me to take the place of Monsieur Gilet, who, in my opinion, is certainly not in the right place here. Am I not right?—And my uncle wrings his hands!”
“My good neighbor,” said Monsieur Hochon, “you have taken the best means for securing peace in your house. If you will listen to me, you will destroy your will, and then you will see Flore once more all that she was in former days.”
“No; she will never forgive me for making her so unhappy,” said the old man, weeping; “she will never love me again.”
“Yes, she will love you, and heartily too,” said Philippe. “I will see to that.”
“But open your eyes, man!” said Monsieur Hochon to Rouget. “They only want to rob you and desert you!”
“Oh, if I were only sure of that!” said the poor creature.
“Look here. This is
