The next day Cerizet did not fail to appear at the rendezvous given
to him. Examined, at first, through the wicket of the door, he was
admitted, after giving his name, into the house, and was ushered
immediately to the study of Monsieur du Portail, whom he found at his
desk.
Without rising, and merely making a sign to his guest to take a chair,
the little old man continued the letter he was then writing. After
sealing it with wax, with a care and precision that denoted a nature
extremely fastidious and particular, or else a man accustomed to
discharge diplomatic functions, du Portail rang for Bruneau, his valet,
and said, as he gave him the letter:--
“For the justice-of-peace of the arrondissement.”
Then he carefully wiped the steel pen he had just used, restored to
their places, symmetrically, all the displaced articles on his desk, and
it was only when these little arrangements were completed that he turned
to Cerizet, and said:--
“You know, of course, that we lost that poor Monsieur Toupillier last
night?”
“No, really?” said Cerizet, putting on the most sympathetic air he could
manage. “This is my first knowledge of it.”
“But you probably expected it. When one gives a dying man an immense
bowl of hot wine, which has also been narcotized,--for the Perrache
woman slept all night in a sort of lethargy after drinking a small glass
of it,--it is evident that the catastrophe has been hastened.”
“I am ignorant, monsieur,” said Cerizet, with dignity, “of what Madame
Cardinal may have given to her uncle. I have no doubt committed a
great piece of thoughtlessness in assisting this woman to obtain an
inheritance to which she assured me she had legal rights; but as to
attempting the life of that old pauper, I am quite incapable of such a
thing; nothing of the kind ever entered my mind.”
“You wrote me this letter, I think,” said du Portail, abruptly, taking
from beneath a bohemian glass bowl a paper which he offered to Cerizet.
“A letter?” replied Cerizet, with the hesitation of a man who doesn’t
know whether to lie or speak the truth.
“I am quite sure of what I say,” continued du Portail. “I have a mania
for autographs, and I possess one of yours, obtained at the period
when the Opposition exalted you to the glorious rank of martyr. I have
compared the two writings, and I find that you certainly wrote me,
yesterday, the letter which you hold in your hand, informing me of the
money embarrassments of young la Peyrade at the present moment.”
“Well,” said Cerizet, “knowing that you had given a home to Mademoiselle
de la Peyrade, who is probably cousin of Theodose, I thought I
recognized in you the mysterious protector from whom, on more than one
occasion, my friend has received the most generous assistance. Now, as
I have a sincere affection for that poor fellow, it was in his interests
that I permitted myself--”
“You did quite right,” interrupted du Portail. “I am delighted to have
fallen in with a friend of la Peyrade. I ought not to conceal from you
that it was this particular fact which protected you last night. But
tell me, what is this about notes for twenty-five thousand francs?
Is our friend so badly off in his affairs? Is he leading a dissipated
life?”
“On the contrary,” replied Cerizet, “he’s a puritan. Given to the
deepest piety, he did not choose to take, as a barrister, any other
cases but those of the poor. He is now on the point of making a rich
marriage.”
“Ah! is he going to be married? and to whom?”
“To a Demoiselle Colleville, daughter of the secretary of the mayor
of the 12th arrondissement. In herself, the girl has no fortune, but a
certain Monsieur Thuillier, her godfather, member of the Council-general
of the Seine, has promised her a suitable ‘dot.’”
“Who has handled this affair?”
“La Peyrade has been devoted to the Thuillier family, into which he was
introduced by Monsieur Dutocq, clerk of the justice-of-peace of their
arrondissement.”
“But you wrote me that these notes were signed in favor of Monsieur
Dutocq. The affair is a bit of matrimonial brokerage, in short?”
“Well, something of that kind,” replied Cerizet. “You know, monsieur,
that in Paris such transactions are very common. Even the clergy won’t
disdain to have a finger in them.”
“Is the marriage a settled thing?”
“Yes, and within the last few days especially.”
“Well, my good sir, I rely on you to put an end to it. I have other
views for Theodose,--another marriage to propose to him.”
“Excuse me!” said Cerizet, “to break up this marriage would make it
impossible for him to pay his notes; and I have the honor to call
your attention to the fact that these particular bills of exchange
are serious matters. Monsieur Dutocq is in the office of the
justice-of-peace; in other words, he couldn’t be easily defeated in such
a matter.”
“The debt to Monsieur Dutocq you shall buy off yourself,” replied du
Portail. “Make arrangements with him to that effect. Should Theodose
prove reluctant to carry out my plans, those notes may become a useful
weapon in our hands. You will take upon yourself to sue him for them,
and you shall have no money responsibility in the matter. I will pay you
the amount of the notes for Dutocq, and your costs in suing Theodose.”
“You are square in business, monsieur,” said Cerizet. “There’s some
pleasure in being your agent. Now, if you think the right moment has
come, I should be glad if you would give me some better light on the
mission you are doing me the honor to place in my hands.”
“You spoke just now,” replied du Portail, “of the cousin of Theodose,
Mademoiselle Lydie de la Peyrade. This young woman, who is not in her
first youth, for she is nearly thirty, is the natural daughter of the
celebrated Mademoiselle Beaumesnil of the Theatre Francais and Peyrade,
the commissary-general of police under the Empire, and the uncle of our
friend. Until his death, which occurred suddenly, leaving his daughter,
whom he loved tenderly, without means of support, I was bound to that
excellent man with the warmest friendship.”
Glad to show that he had some knowledge of du Portail’s interior life,
Cerizet hastened to remark:--
“And you have secretly fulfilled the duties of that friendship,
monsieur; for, in taking into your home that interesting orphan you
assumed a difficult guardianship. Mademoiselle de la Peyrade’s state
of health requires, I am told, a care not only affectionate, but
persevering.”
“Yes,” replied du Portail, “the poor girl, after the death of her
father, was so cruelly tried that her mind has been somewhat affected;
but a fortunate change has lately occurred in her condition, and
only yesterday I called in consultation Doctor Bianchon and the two
physicians-in-charge of Bicetre and the Salpetriere. These gentlemen
unanimously declare that marriage and the birth of a first child would
undoubtedly restore her to perfect health. You can readily understand
that the remedy is too easy and agreeable not to be attempted.”
“Then,” said Cerizet, “it is to Mademoiselle Lydie de la Peyrade, his
cousin, that you wish to marry Theodose.”
“You have said it,” returned du Portail, “and you must not think that
our young friend, if he accepts the marriage, will be called upon to
show a gratuitous devotion. Lydie is very agreeable in person; she
has talents, a charming disposition, and she can bring to bear, in
her husband’s interest, a strong influence in public life. She has,
moreover, a pretty fortune, consisting of what her mother left her, and
of my entire property, which, having no heirs myself, I intend to secure
to her in the marriage contract. Besides all this, she has this very
night acquired a not inconsiderable legacy.”
“What!” exclaimed Cerizet, “do you mean that old Toupillier--”
“By a will in his own handwriting, which I have here, that old pauper
constitutes her his sole legatee. You see, therefore, that I showed
some kindness in not proceeding against you and Madame Cardinal for
your little attempt last night; it was simply our property that you were
trying to pillage.”
“Heavens!” cried Cerizet, “I won’t pretend to excuse Madame Cardinal’s
misconduct; and yet, as one of the legal heirs, dispossessed by a
stranger, she had, it seems to me, some right to the indulgence which
you certainly showed to her.”
“In that you are mistaken,” said du Portail; “the apparent liberality
of the old beggar to Mademoiselle de la Peyrade happens to be only a
restitution.”
“A restitution!” exclaimed Cerizet, in a tone of curiosity.
“A restitution,” repeated du Portail, “and nothing is easier than to
prove it. Do you remember the robbery of some diamonds from one of our
dramatic celebrities about ten years ago?”
“Yes,” replied Cerizet. “I was manager of one of my newspapers at the
time, and I used to write the ‘Paris items.’ But stay, I remember, the
actress who lost them was Mademoiselle Beaumesnil.”
“Precisely; the mother of Mademoiselle de la Peyrade.”
“Consequently, this miserable old Toupillier--no, I remember that the
thief was convicted; his name was Charles Crochard. It was said, under
the rose, that he was the natural son of a great personage, the Comte
de Granville, attorney-general under the Restoration.” [See “A Double
Life.”]
“Well,” said du Portail, “this is how it happened. The robbery was
committed in a house in the rue de Tournon, occupied by Mademoiselle
Beaumesnil. Charles Crochard, who was a handsome fellow, was said to
have the run of it--”
“Yes, yes,” cried Cerizet, “I remember Mademoiselle Beaumesnil’s
embarrassment when she gave her testimony--and also the total extinction
of voice that attacked her when the judge asked her age.”
“The robbery,” continued du Portail, “was audaciously committed in the
daytime; and no sooner did Charles Crochard get possession of the casket
than he went to the church of Saint-Sulpice, where he had an appointment
with an accomplice, who, being supplied with a passport, was to start
immediately with the diamonds for foreign parts. It so chanced that on
entering the church, instead of meeting the man he expected, who was a
trifle late, Charles Crochard came face to face with a celebrated agent
of the detective force, who was well known to him, inasmuch as the young
rascal was not at his first scrimmage with the police. The absence of
his accomplice, this encounter with the detective, and, lastly, a rapid
movement made by the latter, by the merest chance, toward the door,
induced the robber to fancy he was being watched. Losing his head
under this idea, he wanted, at any cost, to put the casket out of his
possession, knowing that if arrested, as he expected, at the door of the
church, it would be a damning proof against him. Catching sight at that
moment of Toupillier, who was then the giver of holy water, ‘My man,’
said he, making sure that no one overheard their colloquy, ‘will you
take care of this little package for me? It is a box of lace. I am going
near by to a countess who is slow to pay her bill; and if I have the
lace with me she’ll want to see it, for it is a new style, and she’ll
ask me to leave it with her on credit, instead of paying the bill;
therefore I don’t want to take it. But,’ he added, ‘be sure not to touch
the paper that wraps the box, for there’s nothing harder than to do up a
package in the same folds--’”
“The booby!” cried Cerizet, naively; “why, that very caution would make
the man want to open it.”
“You are an able casuist,” said du Portail. “Well, an hour later,
Charles Crochard, finding that nothing happened to him, returned to the
church to obtain his deposit, but Toupillier was no longer there. You
can imagine the anxiety with which Charles Crochard attended early mass
the next day, and approached the giver of holy water, who was there,
sure enough, attending to his functions. But night, they say, brings
counsel; the worthy beggar audaciously declared that he had received no
package, and did not know what his interlocutor meant.”
“And there was no possibility of arguing with him, for that would be
exposure,” remarked Cerizet, who was not far from sympathizing in a
trick so boldly played.
“No doubt,” resumed du Portail; “the robbery was already noised about,
and Toupillier, who was a very able fellow, had calculated that Charles
Crochard would not dare to publicly accuse him, for that would reveal
the theft. In fact, on his trial Charles Crochard never said a word of
his mishap, and during the six years he spent at the galleys (he was
condemned to ten, but four were remitted) he did not open his lips to a
single soul about the treachery of which he had been a victim.”
“That was pretty plucky,” said Cerizet; the tale excited him, and he
showed openly that he saw the matter as an artist and a connoisseur.
“In that interval,” continued du Portail, “Madame Beaumesnil died,
leaving her daughter a few fragments of a once great fortune, and the
diamonds which the will expressly stated Lydie was to receive ‘in case
they were recovered.’”
“Ha! ha!” exclaimed Cerizet, “bad for Toupillier, because, having to do
with a man of your calibre--”
“Charles Crochard’s first object on being liberated was vengeance on
Toupillier, and his first step was to denounce him to the police as
receiver of the stolen property. Taken in hand by the law, Toupillier
defended himself with such singular good-humor, being able to show that
no proof whatever existed against him, that the examining judge let him
off. He lost his place, however, as giver of holy water, obtaining, with
great difficulty, permission to beg at the door of the church. For my
part, I was certain of his guilt; and I managed to have the closest
watch kept upon him; though I relied far more upon myself. Being a man
of means and leisure, I stuck, as you may say, to the skin of my thief,
and did, in order to unmask him, one of the cleverest things of my
career. He was living at that time in the rue du Coeur-Volant. I
succeeded in becoming the tenant of the room adjoining his; and one
night, through a gimlet hole I had drilled in the partition, I saw
my man take the case of diamonds from a very cleverly contrived
hiding-place. He sat for an hour gazing at them and fondling them; he
made them sparkle in the light, he pressed them passionately to his
lips. The man actually loved those diamonds for themselves, and had
never thought of turning them to money.”
“I understand,” said Cerizet,--“a mania like that of Cardillac, the
jeweller, which has now been dramatized.”
“That is just it,” returned du Portail; “the poor wretch was in love
with that casket; so that when, shortly after, I entered his room and
told him I knew all, he proposed to me to leave him the life use of
what he called the consolation of his old age, pledging himself to make
Mademoiselle de la Peyrade his sole heir, revealing to me at the same
time the existence of a hoard of gold (to which he was adding every
day), and also the possession of a house and an investment in the
Funds.”
“If he made that proposal in good faith,” said Cerizet, “it was a
desirable one. The interest of the capital sunk in the diamonds was more
than returned by that from the other property.”
“You now see, my dear sir,” said du Portail, “that I was not mistaken
in trusting him. All my precautions were well taken; I exacted that he
should occupy a room in the house I lived in, where I could keep a close
eye upon him. I assisted him in making that hiding-place, the secret of
which you discovered so cleverly; but what you did not find out was that
in touching the spring that opened the iron safe you rang a bell in my
apartment, which warned me of any attempt that was made to remove our
treasure.”
“Poor Madame Cardinal!” cried Cerizet, good-humoredly, “how far she was
from suspecting it!”
“Now here’s the situation,” resumed du Portail. “On account of the
interest I feel in the nephew of my old friend, and also, on account
of the relationship, this marriage seems to me extremely desirable; in
short, I unite Theodose to his cousin and her ‘dot.’ As it is possible
that, considering the mental state of his future wife, Theodose may
object to sharing my views, I have not thought it wise to make this
proposal directly to himself. You have suddenly turned up upon my path;
I know already that you are clever and wily, and that knowledge induces
me to put this little matrimonial negotiation into your hands. Now,
I think, you understand the matter thoroughly; speak to him of a fine
girl, with one little drawback, but, on the other hand, a comfortable
fortune. Do not name her to him; and come here and let me know how the
proposal has been taken.”
“Your confidence delights me as much as it honors me,” replied Cerizet,
“and I will justify it the best I can.”
“We must not expect too much,” said du Portail. “Refusal will be the
first impulse of a man who has an affair on hand elsewhere; but we need
not consider ourselves beaten. I shall not easily give up a plan which
I know to be just, even if I push my zeal so far as to put la Peyrade
under lock and key in Clichy. I am resolved not to take no for his
answer to a proposal of which, in the end, he cannot fail to see the
propriety. Therefore, in any case, buy up those notes from Monsieur
Dutocq.”
“At par?” asked Cerizet.
“Yes, at par, if you cannot do better; we are not going to haggle over
a few thousand francs; only, when this transaction is arranged, Monsieur
Dutocq must pledge us either his assistance, or, at the very least,
his neutrality. After what you have said of the other marriage, it is
unnecessary for me to warn you that there is not a moment to lose in
putting our irons into the fire.”
“Two days hence I have an appointment with la Peyrade,” said Cerizet.
“We have a little matter of business of our own to settle. Don’t you
think it would be best to wait till then, when I can introduce the
proposal incidentally? In case of resistance, I think that arrangement
would best conduce to OUR dignity.”
“So be it,” said du Portail; “it isn’t much of a delay. Remember,
monsieur, that if you succeed you have, in place of a man able to
bring you to a stern account for your _imprudent assistance_ to Madame
Cardinal, a greatly obliged person, who will be ready at all times to
serve you, and whose influence is greater than is generally supposed.”
After these friendly words, the pair separated with a thoroughly good
understanding, and well satisfied with each other.