"People would say you could best answer that question, Monsieur
Bourget."
"Not at all," said the ex-builder, impatiently. "When my money went
into the concern, everything was already in train, as you know very
well. The crisis was past, and the estate saved. How, how! That is
what I ask."
"I believe," said M. Georges, with a little surprise, "that the baron
received a loan from Monsieur de Cadanet--at least that is what
Mademoiselle de Beaudrillart gave me to understand."
"Ah! Yes! Precisely." M. Bourget hesitated. "You know nothing,
then, yourself! Had Monsieur de Cadanet shown any interest in the
family before coming to the rescue at that moment!"
"To my knowledge, no. But Mademoiselle de Beaudrillart, who is an
exceedingly capable person, spoke of his having been indebted to the
defunct baron, her father. That, I imagine, explains it."
M. Bourget walked on without answering. His next remark appeared
extremely irrelevant.
"Monsieur de Beaudrillart and my daughter are in Paris."
"Indeed? Your daughter, too?"
"You had not heard it?" He turned to him with unmistakable relief.
"No, I have heard very little."
"And yet of all the gossiping places--However, it is quite true there is
nothing remarkable in a visit to Paris. Here we part, I imagine,
Monsieur Georges. I begin to believe that what you have all insisted
upon is correct, and that I am a little fatigued. You must go out to
Poissy yourself. You have never seen the little baron? No? Then
decidedly you must go."
This conversation to a certain degree comforted M. Bourget, since it
proved to him that M. Georges, at any rate, had no suspicions, and had
accepted the De Cadanet loan as a matter of history. He felt very
tired, owing no doubt to the unusual emotions which had been at work
ever since he received his daughter's letter, and he thought it
advisable to report himself to Fanchon, who was naturally in a state of
uneasiness at his sudden departure. He stopped her reproaches, however,
abruptly, with an air of ill-temper which reduced her to silence, and
sat down in his own room, desiring that he might be left in peace and
not pestered with questions. Fanchon retired grumbling; but when M.
Bourget was in this humour it was not safe to cross him, and she was
obliged to satisfy her curiosity with such poor fare as could be
supplied by her own imagination.
But, although M. Bourget lingered a little while with satisfaction on
the thought that he had perhaps been mistaken in imagining that Tours
was already greedily discussing the crime of M. de Beaudrillart, he soon
came back to the conviction that M. de Beaudrillart was guilty. What M.
Georges had said threw no fresh light upon the transaction. He
believed what he had been told, and what no doubt the whole family at
Poissy had believed. Only the young baron knew if any dark secret was
connected with the money which had been procured so fortunately at the
time of his greatest need. If it were so, circumstances had no doubt
thrown the knowledge into the hands of a man--perhaps already an enemy--
who had no scruple in using it for his own ends.
But what had Leon done with the money which he had ostensibly applied to
the payment of the debt? M. Bourget groaned again over his own
conviction, and wiped his forehead.
"It has gone as hush-money. This Lemaire has not waited six years
without putting on the screw. No doubt Baron Leon kept it to hand over
in instalments when matters grew desperate. Lemaire has had the last of
it, and now advances more boldly. Yes, that is it. I understand
perfectly. But what is to be done?"