“M. David Séchard, printer of Angoulême, affirming that he has
discovered a method of sizing paper-pulp in the vat, and also a
method of affecting a reduction of fifty per cent in the price of
all kinds of manufactured papers, by introducing certain vegetable
substances into the pulp, either by intermixture of such
substances with the rags already in use, or by employing them
solely without the addition of rags: a partnership for working the
patent to be presently applied for is entered upon by M. David
Séchard and the firm of Cointet Brothers, subject to the following
conditional clauses and stipulations.”
One of the clauses so drafted that David Séchard forfeited all his
rights if he failed to fulfil his engagements within the year; the
tall Cointet was particularly careful to insert that clause, and David
Séchard allowed it to pass.
When Petit-Claud appeared with a copy of the agreement next morning at
half-past seven o’clock, he brought news for David and his wife. Cérizet
offered twenty-two thousand francs for the business. The whole affair
could be signed and settled in the course of the evening. “But if the
Cointets knew about it,” he added, “they would be quite capable of
refusing to sign the deed of partnership, of harassing you, and selling
you up.”
“Are you sure of payment?” asked Eve. She had thought it hopeless to
try to sell the business; and now, to her astonishment, a bargain which
would have been their salvation three months ago was concluded in this
summary fashion.
“The money has been deposited with me,” he answered succinctly.
“Why, here is magic at work!” said David, and he asked Petit-Claud for
an explanation of this piece of luck.
“No,” said Petit-Claud, “it is very simple. The merchants in L’Houmeau
want a newspaper.”
“But I am bound not to publish a paper,” said David.
“Yes, you are bound, but is your successor?--However it is,” he
continued, “do not trouble yourself at all; sell the business, pocket
the proceeds, and leave Cérizet to find his way through the conditions
of the sale--he can take care of himself.”
“Yes,” said Eve.
“And if it turns out that you may not print a newspaper in Angoulême,”
said Petit-Claud, “those who are finding the capital for Cérizet will
bring out the paper in L’Houmeau.”
The prospect of twenty-two thousand francs, of want now at end, dazzled
Eve. The partnership and its hopes took a second place. And, therefore,
M. and Mme. Séchard gave way on a final point of dispute. The tall
Cointet insisted that the patent should be taken out in the name of any
one of the partners. What difference could it make? The stout Cointet
said the last word.
“He is finding the money for the patent; he is bearing the expenses of
the journey--another two thousand francs over and above the rest of the
expenses. He must take it out in his own name, or we will not stir in
the matter.”
The lynx gained a victory at all points. The deed of partnership was
signed that afternoon at half-past four.
The tall Cointet politely gave Mme. Séchard a dozen thread-pattern forks
and spoons and a beautiful Ternaux shawl, by way of pin-money, said he,
and to efface any unpleasant impression made in the heat of discussion.
The copies of the draft had scarcely been made out, Cachan had barely
had time to send the documents to Petit-Claud, together with the three
unlucky forged bills, when the Séchards heard a deafening rumble in the
street, a dray from the Messageries stopped before the door, and Kolb’s
voice made the staircase ring again.
“Montame! montame! vifteen tausend vrancs, vrom Boidiers” (Poitiers).
“Goot money! vrom Monziere Lucien!”
“Fifteen thousand francs!” cried Eve, throwing up her arms.
“Yes, madame,” said the carman in the doorway, “fifteen thousand francs,
brought by the Bordeaux coach, and they didn’t want any more neither!
I have two men downstairs bringing up the bags. M. Lucien Chardon de
Rubempré is the sender. I have brought up a little leather bag for you,
containing five hundred francs in gold, and a letter it’s likely.”