"HERE MUST BE SOME MISTAKE."
The two stood staring at the paper, which told so little and so much.
When M. Bourget glanced at last at Mme. de Beaudrillart, he pushed a
chair towards her.
"Sit down, for Heaven's sake, madame," he said in a hoarse voice. "Here
must be some mistake. Who gave you this?"
Insensibly and unintentionally his voice had become that of the accuser.
She answered, mechanically:
"My son."
"Do you think--" he glanced at her again and was silent. Both were
silent. They could hear the cooing of the pigeons in the yard;
presently a child's shout of laughter rang out, and their eyes met. M.
Bourget said, quickly: "There must be some explanation. Could it have
been an accident? Monsieur Leon perhaps carelessly handed you the wrong
paper!"
She shook her head; he pushed his question.
"Consider, madame. Such a mistake is not impossible. It was at a time
when his thoughts were, perhaps, elsewhere. A young man just married
hasn't got his head so clear for business as on ordinary occasions. Or
are you certain this is the envelope he gave you? If you were to search
a little further?"
"That is the envelope," said Mme. de Beaudrillart, firmly. "At the same
time--"
"Yes, yes!" cried M. Bourget, leaning forward, impatiently.--"I think
it not impossible that it was a--a little farce on his part, because I
pressed him so much for the receipt. I believe," she went on, her voice
and figure regaining strength, "that Monsieur de Cadanet sent him no
receipt, and that he gave this to quiet me."
"Oh!" groaned M. Bourget. He stood gloomily regarding the safe. "How
would it be possible that such a sum could be received without so much
as an acknowledgment?"
She was silent. He put another question.
"Other letters must have passed; have you seen any of them?"
"No."
"Nothing, madame, from Monsieur de Cadanet?"
"Since my husband's death, nothing."
"Was anything paid before Monsieur Leon's marriage?"
"Five hundred francs."
M. Bourget had a perfect recollection of this sum having been mentioned
by Leon; he only put the question to see how the accounts agreed.
"Is there, perhaps, a receipt for this?"
"No," returned Mme. de Beaudrillart. "I was vexed that Leon did not
demand it, but he assured me it was impossible."
"Impossible or not, it is a great misfortune," murmured the ex-builder,
in a gloomy tone.
She looked up with sudden fire in her eyes.
"You say so, monsieur, but you have no reason to link the two points
together. This disgraceful attempt by Monsieur Lemaire may have nothing
whatever to do with the repayment of Monsieur de Cadanet's loan."
M. Bourget rubbed his face with his hand, and glanced at her
doubtfully.
"No, madame," he said, at last; "but with its non-payment."
Mme. de Beaudrillart rose with all the pride she could summon to the
support of a trembling heart.
"No one, monsieur, shall insult Monsieur de Beaudrillart in his own
house."
"Do you think I would?" he returned, hurriedly. "You forget, madame,
that we are all in one boat. But something there is which has to be
unravelled before things can be set right, and if I work I must have
materials to go upon. If this money was the repayment of a loan from
Monsieur de Cadanet, some sort of acknowledgment must exist. That,"--he
pointed to the envelope--"you see what that is."
"It was my fault," she said, firmly.
"Perhaps. That is neither here nor there. It is not what you thought
it. That makes it the more likely that Monsieur Lemaire's action has to
do with it. But how? I've half a mind to go after them to Paris."
"No," said Mme. de Beaudrillart, shivering. "Do not. You mean well, I
know, but you might make matters worse by interfering. The fewer who
are mixed up in it the better."
"Maybe, madame; though that would not hinder me if only I had a lawyer's
brains to ferret out things. But that's not my way. Give me a straight
bit of work that requires no talking, and I'm your man; but as for
hunting up and down in by-ways and back-stairs--well, if I attempted it,
there would be blunders. There must be lots of the sort in Paris,
though."
"If it comes to that!"