THE AMBASSADOR’S HOTEL.
On returning to their hotel, these gentlemen found Ducorneau dining
quietly in his bureau. Beausire desired him, when he had finished, to
go up and see the ambassador, and added:
“You will see, my dear chancellor, that M. de Souza is not an ordinary
man.”
“I see that already.”
“His excellency,” continued Beausire, “wishes to take a distinguished
position in Paris, and this residence will be insupportable to him. He
will require a private house.”
“That will complicate the diplomatic business,” said Ducorneau; “we
shall have to go so often to obtain his signature.”
“His excellency will give you a carriage, M. Ducorneau.”
“A carriage for me!”
“Certainly; every chancellor of a great ambassador should have a
carriage. But we will talk of that afterwards. His excellency wishes to
know where the strong-box is.”
“Up-stairs, close to his own room.”
“So far from you?”
“For greater safety, sir. Robbers would find greater difficulty in
penetrating there, than here on the ground-floor.”
“Robbers!” said Beausire, disdainfully, “for such a little sum?”
“One hundred thousand francs!” said Ducorneau. “It is easy to see M. de
Souza is rich, but there is not more kept in any ambassador’s house in
Europe.”
“Shall we examine it now?” said Beausire. “I am rather in a hurry to
attend to my own business.”
“Immediately, monsieur.”
They went up and the money was found all right.
Ducorneau gave his key to Beausire, who kept it for some time,
pretending to admire its ingenious construction, while he cleverly took
the impression of it in wax. Then he gave it back, saying, “Keep it, M.
Ducorneau; it is better in your hands than in mine. Let us now go to
the ambassador.”
They found Don Manoël drinking chocolate, and apparently much occupied
with a paper covered with ciphers.
“Do you understand the ciphers used in the late correspondence?” said
he to the chancellor.
“No, your excellency.”
“I should wish you to learn it; it will save me a great deal of
trouble. What about the box?” said he to Beausire.
“Perfectly correct, like everything else with which M. Ducorneau has
any connection.”
“Well, sit down, M. Ducorneau; I want you to give me some information.
Do you know any honest jewelers in Paris?”
“There are MM. Bœhmer and Bossange, jewelers to the queen.”
“But they are precisely the people I do not wish to employ. I have just
quitted them, never to return.”
“Have they had the misfortune to displease your excellency?”
“Seriously, M. Ducorneau.”
“Oh, if I dared speak.”
“You may.”
“I would ask how these people, who bear so high a name——”
“They are perfect Jews, M. Ducorneau, and their bad behavior will make
them lose a million or two. I was sent by her gracious majesty to make
an offer to them for a diamond necklace.”
“Oh! the famous necklace which had been ordered by the late king for
Madame Dubarry?”
“You are a valuable man, sir—you know everything. Well, now, I shall
not buy it.”
“Shall I interfere?”
“M. Ducorneau!”
“Oh, only as a diplomatic affair.”
“If you knew them at all.”
“Bossange is a distant relation of mine.”
At this moment a valet opened the door, and announced MM. Bœhmer and
Bossange. Don Manoël rose quickly, and said in any angry tone, “Send
those people away!”
The valet made a step forward. “No; you do it,” said he to his
secretary.
“I beg you to allow me,” said Ducorneau; and he advanced to meet them.
“There! this affair is destined to fail,” said Manoël.
“No; Ducorneau will arrange it.”
“I am convinced he will embroil it. You said at the jewelers that I did
not understand French, and Ducorneau will let out that I do.”
“I will go,” said Beausire.
“Perhaps that is equally dangerous.”
“Oh, no; only leave me to act.”
Beausire went down. Ducorneau had found the jewelers much more disposed
to politeness and confidence since entering the hotel; also, on seeing
an old friend, Bossange was delighted.
“You here!” said he; and he approached to embrace him.
“Ah! you are very amiable to-day, my rich cousin,” said Ducorneau.
“Oh,” said Bossange, “if we have been a little separated, forgive, and
render me a service.”
“I came to do it.”
“Thanks. You are, then, attached to the embassy?”
“Yes.”
“I want advice.”
“On what?”
“On this embassy.”
“I am the chancellor.”
“That is well; but about the ambassador?”
“I come to you, on his behalf, to tell you that he begs you to leave
his hotel as quickly as possible.”
The two jewelers looked at each other, disconcerted.
“Because,” continued Ducorneau, “it seems you have been uncivil to
him.”
“But listen——”
“It is useless,” said Beausire, who suddenly appeared; “his excellency
told you to dismiss them—do it.”
“But, monsieur——”
“I cannot listen,” said Beausire.
The chancellor took his relation by the shoulder, and pushed him out,
saying, “You have spoiled your fortune.”
“Mon Dieu! how susceptible these foreigners are!”
“When one is called Souza, and has nine hundred thousand francs a year,
one has a right to be anything,” said Ducorneau.
“Ah!” sighed Bossange, “I told you, Bœhmer, you were too stiff about
it.”
“Well,” replied the obstinate German, “at least, if we do not get his
money, he will not get our necklace.”
Ducorneau laughed. “You do not understand either a Portuguese or an
ambassador, bourgeois that you are. I will tell you what they are: one
ambassador, M. de Potemkin, bought every year for his queen, on the
first of January, a basket of cherries which cost one hundred thousand
crowns—one thousand francs a cherry. Well, M. de Souza will buy up the
mines of Brazil till he finds a diamond as big as all yours put
together. If it cost him twenty years of his income, what does he
care?—he has no children.”
And he was going to shut the door, when Bossange said:
“Arrange this affair, and you shall have——”
“I am incorruptible,” said he, and closed the door.
That evening the ambassador received this letter:
“Monseigneur,—A man who waits for your orders, and desires to present
you our respectful excuses, is at the door of your hotel, and at a word
from your excellency he will place in the hands of one of your people
the necklace of which you did us the honor to speak. Deign to receive,
monseigneur, the assurances of our most profound respect.
“Bœhmer and Bossange.”
“Well,” said Manoël, on reading this note, “the necklace is ours.”
“Not so,” said Beausire; “it will only be ours when we have bought it.
We must buy it; but remember, your excellency does not know French.”
“Yes, I know; but this chancellor?”
“Oh, I will send him away on some diplomatic mission.”
“You are wrong; he will be our security with these men.”
“But he will say that you know French.”
“No, he will not; I will tell him not to do so.”
“Very well, then; we will have up the man.”
The man was introduced: it was Bœhmer himself, who made many bows and
excuses, and offered the necklace for examination.
“Sit down,” said Beausire; “his excellency pardons you.”
“Oh, how much trouble to sell!” sighed Bœhmer.
“How much trouble to steal!” thought Beausire.