THE NEW JERUSALEM GOLD MINE
En vieillissant on devient plus fou et plus sage
La Rochefoucauld. _Maximes_, 210.
Quien Mucho abarca poco a prieta. (Spanish Proverb.)
Payot's financial schemes had not been flourishing of late. The Morocco
concessions for very obvious reasons had unavoidably fallen through,
and the financier's credit was none of the best.
It is a well-known fact that many men finding their business affairs
going from bad to worse, revert to speculation with a view of
retrieving their fallen fortunes. The general result of this policy is
that instead of quietly setting about putting their house in order so
as to stop the debacle, they get dragged deeper and deeper into the
mire of financial ruin. Unfortunately for Payot, who was naturally
rather a weak and credulous character, matters had almost reached that
acute and alarming stage with him, and he proved no exception to the
rule.
One day after the termination of his visit to Dr. Villebois's house,
while sitting comfortably in his armchair after dinner, a portly
looking gentleman with a clean-shaven, very red and puffy face, was
announced.
"Monsieur le Baron D'Ormontagne," said the butler, handing M. Payot the
visitor's card.
The baron appeared to be about forty-five years of age, with a
digestive apparatus of vast dimensions, which was screened off by a
white waistcoat carrying a gold chain with links like a cable. His
nose was very large and decidedly curved, and this, together with his
fleshy under-lip and double chin, betrayed both his affluence and
his Hebrew origin. The baron was known among his former associates as
Moses Goldberg, but fortune having favoured him of late, he felt that
his position warranted his assuming the more ambitious title of Baron
D'Ormontagne, which of course meant the same thing, only it sounded
very differently.
"Pray sit down, baron," said Payot, handing him a chair, and looking
him up and down as if he were about to measure him for a suit of
clothes. "What service may I have the pleasure to render you?"
The baron who was very wheezy, commenced operations by drawing a
large red bandana handkerchief from the recesses of his capacious
coat pocket, and after a few flourishes, began coughing violently and
clearing his throat.
"I presume I have the distinguished honour and good fortune to address
M. Felix Payot, am I correct?"
"Yes, that is my name," said Payot.
"I have here a letter of introduction from M. Armand who has known me
for years, and he has unbounded faith in my admirable judgment and
great business capacity," and so saying he handed the letter to the
financier.
Payot scanned the letter, and carefully folding it, placed it on the
table.
"You know him well, do you not?"
"Oh, yes," said Payot, "I have known him for many years."
"Ah then, I see we are friends at once," said the baron, rubbing his
hands in his eagerness to commence his acts of friendship. "To count
upon a financier like you, my dear monsieur, as one's friend is an
unexpected pleasure."
At this moment a butler entered and handed him a liqueur on a salver.
"No, thank you," said the baron, throwing forward the palms of his
hands as if he were pushing a boat from the landing stage, "I have just
had dinner--well, as you press me--I really cannot refuse. What was I
saying? Oh, yes, I remember--I have just returned from Mexico where I
discovered a very valuable gold mine of outstanding richness. You will
be astonished when I show you the prospectus--and the samples--ah,
such samples. Voila," and spreading the crimson handkerchief on the
table, he emptied into it a small heap of quartz rock studded with gold
nuggets as large as peas. "What do you think of that, mon cher, for a
gold mine? Is it not superb?" and the baron rubbed his hands together
as if he were lathering them with air. "Fifty-six, or is it a hundred
and fifty-six ounces to the ton," he continued, "I really forget
which. But no matter, you will see it in the prospectus. And there are
thousands and thousands of tons--in fact a small mountain of it, and
the reef crops up like currants in a cake. Examine the reef where you
will, you always find the same thing--quartz studded with gold, or gold
studded with quartz. It is positively like prospecting the vaults of
the Bank of France. The mine positively reeks with gold. I discovered
it purely by accident. I was travelling over the Sierras and lost my
way. Feeling tired I sat down on an outcrop of rock, and casually
picked up a loose chunk to throw at a rabbit near me. The piece of
stone felt so heavy that I examined it, and to my delight and surprise
I found it simply scintillating with bits of gold. Ma foi, you may be
sure I marked the place well, and returning with a couple of friends I
pegged it out and registered my claim in the city of Mexico. Now, here
is the prospectus I have drawn out. Read it carefully and to-morrow, my
dear friend, I shall come again, if you will be good enough to fix a
time?"
"Say the same time to-morrow," said Payot.
"Excellent, excellent, nothing like doing business at once. That is my
plan, and I owe all my success in business to it. And now, mon ami, I
will leave you to think over it. I see you are unable to digest any
more. It is a dream--a dream, n'est-ce pas? Such a mine has never yet
been seen in the world. But so true--so true. Ah, you will never again
in your lifetime have such a chance as this. Ah," he said as he rose to
leave, "you are admiring my watch-chain? Everyone does, it is such a
marvel. Each link, sir, was forged from gold taken from this very mine.
Feel its weight, sir, eh?" and he gave a greasy smile of plutocratic
opulence and contentment. Carefully dusting his white cotton spats
with the red handkerchief, he took hold of Payot's hands and shook
them effusively. "My dear monsieur," he continued, "this has been the
greatest evening of my life. The thought of sharing this find with
you--so rich that I have christened it the New Jerusalem Mine--just
causes my happiness to bubble over."
"But why did you call it the New Jerusalem?" asked Payot.
"What name could be more appropriate? New Jerusalem--descending from
Heaven--gates of pearls--streets of shining gold--my mine to a T. What
could be finer as an illustration? To-morrow then at eight p.m. Au
revoir, au revoir, mon brave," he said, as the butler in answer to the
bell appeared at the door and opened it to its full extent, while the
wheezy gentleman with his vast display of waistcoat toddled out of the
room, bowing profusely.
"A queer sort of card that," thought Payot to himself as he opened the
prospectus and proceeded to examine it.
If Payot thought that the baron was piling on the abnormal richness
of the mine too thickly, he found to his surprise that the report of
Monsieur Alexandre Norcier, the mining engineer, went considerably
further. It was certainly an able report, but the fabulous richness of
the reef absolutely staggered him. His eyes glistened with excitement
and greed.
"Ah," he said to himself, "if this mine is only a quarter as rich as
the old baron makes out, I shall be one of the richest men in all
Paris. Just think what power it will give me. What would old Duval have
given to have a third share in it? I believe he would have sold his
immortal soul to the Devil--aye a hundred times over. Well, there's no
knowing, it may be true after all. Anyhow, I'll call on Norcier and
Armand to-morrow and see what they have to say."
When Payot fell asleep that night with his imagination already heated
by the story told by the baron, he dreamt that he was filling trucks
with nuggets of gold, and that they were being carted to the Mint every
day of the year. When his fabulous wealth became known he was invited
as the piece de resistance to the receptions at every Court in Europe.
Daughters of royal blood strove in bevies to compete for his hand, and
the President of the Republic decorated him with the Grand Cordon of
the Legion d'Honneur, and the King of England with the Order of the
Garter. Mighty schemes of reform filtered through his brain. He would
rebuild Paris at his own expense on a scale that would dazzle humanity.
He would fill the parks with statues rivalling those of Greece. He
would erect palaces, museums, places of amusement far surpassing the
Golden House of Nero. He would line the banks of the Seine with the
choicest trees and flowers that the whole world could offer. He would
deepen the Seine so as to form a ship-canal with a depth sufficient to
admit the Oceanics, Imperators, and other sea monsters right up to the
very quays of Paris.
Next morning he woke with a violent headache, and it required several
cups of café au rhum, combined with repeated doses of phenacetin to get
him out of bed.
The fresh air outside revived him, and thinking a walk would do him
good, he proceeded on foot to Norcier's business offices.
"Pardon me, M. Norcier," he remarked as he sat down, "but I had an
interview with our friend the Baron D'Ormontagne yesterday, and he gave
me an account of his new gold mine in Mexico. So I thought you would
not mind if I asked you for a few details concerning it."
"With pleasure, M. Payot, as a matter of fact I have greatly
undervalued its richness; to be candid, in my report I have cut down
everything to half so as to be well on the safe side. Do you not
approve?"
"Most certainly, Monsieur Norcier, most certainly I do. Do you consider
it a really safe speculation?"
"My dear sir, I would not recommend it to you at all but for three
reasons. Firstly, your name is one to play with, it represents such
honour and integrity that it will give our syndicate great weight,
and for that reason we intend, should you care to have a stake in it,
to give you the most favourable terms possible. Secondly, I myself am
putting in every available penny, and lastly M. Armand and the Baron
D'Ormontagne, two of the most honourable men in all Paris, take each
an equal share. By the way, have you met M. Armand?"
"No, I confess I have not seen him for a long time."
"Oh, then you will find him a most charming man, and one who combines
great business talent with extreme caution." In fact the testimonials
of these two gentlemen were so high that Payot felt it would be almost
an insult to call on Armand at all.
Precisely at eight o'clock in the evening the baron, true to his word,
and looking even more florid than usual, called again.
"Voila, mon ami, we can now arrange everything. We have taken such
a fancy to you, mon brave, that we feel our consciences will not be
satisfied until we offer you two hundred shares in our syndicate at the
absurdly low figure of 1,000 francs each."
"Two hundred thousand francs (£8,000)," said Payot meditatively, "that
is a great deal of money in these days--a great deal of money."
"But consider, mon ami, what you are going to get for it--a large share
in the richest mine in the world. Why, in three months when the first
dividend is declared, each of your two hundred shares will be worth
50,000 francs, and the first dividend alone will repay you for all you
have spent, five times over. Such a chance as this only happens once in
a lifetime."
"But if they are so enormously valuable, why do you sell them at all?"
"For a very simple reason, my dear Payot, we are not selling them to
you for your money, but for your name. You must remember your name is a
thing to conjure with. You are held in such esteem that when the public
sees the prospectus with your name on the list of subscribers, there
will be an active market at once, and the shares will go to ten or
twenty times the present price."
Payot felt extremely flattered and firmly persuaded himself that it
was really the case, and that his name could command capital anywhere.
After some hesitation he consented to take the shares, and prepared to
arrange with his bankers to pay D'Ormontagne the purchase money.
He was delighted with his bargain, especially as every few days he
received a copy of a cable message showing the increasing returns they
were getting.
A meeting of directors was held at which Payot attended. It was passed
unanimously that the Company should be floated with a capital of
10,000,000 francs, and the public was invited to take up shares.
"My dear Payot," said the baron, "now is a chance to underwrite. Each
of our directors is going to underwrite a million francs, and of course
we look to you to do the same. You will receive 250,000 shares as a
bonus, and you will never have to pay for a single share. Why, the
public will subscribe ten times over. The demand is already so great
that the secretary has applied for ten extra clerks."
Payot hesitated and said he would think it over.
The next day the baron brought Armand with him, and the latter simply
boiled over with enthusiasm.
"My dear Payot," he exclaimed, shaking his hand vigorously and patting
him in a patronising way on the back. "My congratulations, you are a
multi-millionaire already. Now you see the wisdom of following the
advice of my esteemed friend the baron. Ah, D'Ormontagne is a great
financier. Rothschild will have to look to his laurels now, but I am
afraid he will have to give up the race. You mark my words, Payot, we
shall all be in the Ministry at the next elections. France simply can't
get on without us."
Payot sighed and merely shook his head. "I perceive you are an
optimist, monsieur, and to be candid with you I confess I dread
optimists. They are only a shade better than the pessimists. The latter
look only on the dark side of everything, and are so cautious that they
are afraid to embark on any enterprise at all, the result being that
they never attempt anything unless it is absolutely devoid of any risk
whatsoever. But the optimists--believe me, I have had enough of them,
goodness only knows--the optimist, I repeat, always counts his chickens
before they are hatched. He sees everything through rose-coloured
spectacles. He counts on everything going right, and makes no provision
for anything going wrong. This fanatic has also a curious way of
calculating the number of tons of ore extracted every month which he
multiplies by the number of ounces assayed per ton, and sets the total
down as the amount which will be distributed in dividends. The silly
fellow overlooks the immense amount of money which has to be sunk in
working capital on the mine--in transport, food, tools, machinery,
water, motive power and fuel. The condition of the roads, the proximity
to a railway, the amount of available horse-power, fuel and water, the
absence of any one of which is enough to ruin the prospects of the best
mine--are details which never trouble him in the least. Nothing is set
aside for reserve, nothing for emergencies, and so his estimate of the
profits instead of being, let us say for the sake of argument, £10,000
a month, really works out at £1,000--or a tenth of his estimate when
it comes to be divided among the shareholders. In a word, he becomes
saturated with megalomania like a general paralytic."
"My dear Payot, you have almost taken the words out of my mouth, so
thoroughly do I agree with all that you have just said," replied
Armand, "but you are entirely mistaken, if you imagine that I am an
optimist. On the contrary, I am so cautious that my friends nickname me
the pessimist, a quite inappropriate term, I assure you, since I have
the reputation of having the dash and boldness of the great Napoleon.
Is that not so, baron?"
The baron had been nodding approval so violently at every word that his
friend Armand had been saying, that he had to express his assent by
patting him on the back instead.
"My dear Payot," said the baron, "excuse me always addressing you in
this way--but your charm of manner has so won my heart that I feel it
quite impossible to address you by any other term. If you will be good
enough to read the prospectus carefully you will see that everyone of
these items is munificently provided for. No detail has been omitted.
The sum which our engineer considers ample to meet every possible
contingency only amounts to £10,000 a month."
"What!" cried Payot, horrified beyond measure as he jumped up with a
bound. "Do you really mean to say that this blessed mine is going to
cost us £120,000 a year to keep going? Why, we shall have to close down
before we can distribute a sou in dividends. Ma foi, we shall all be
ruined in no time."
"Not so fast, my dear sir," they both shouted together, "not so fast.
It is quite clear that the magnitude of the undertaking has been too
vast to enter your brain. You must digest it gradually, and take in
bits at a time, just as a boa constrictor swallows an antelope. Now
just follow me very carefully," said the baron, standing up from his
chair and waving his hands about like a musical conductor, in order to
give greater emphasis to his remarks. "Let me repeat. The expenses all
told amount to £10,000 a month. Let us multiply that sum by two to be
on the safe side, and we arrive at £20,000 a month."
"Stop, my good fellow, you must be mad," cried Payot excitedly.
"Please reserve your remarks, mon ami, until I have done. When our
stamp battery is in full work, the engineer says we shall crush 20,000
tons a month, and taking the lowest estimate of the richness of the
ore at 28 ounces per ton--which is far below our average, as you must
admit--we shall recover 560,000 ounces of gold a month. Reckon the
market price of gold at £4 per ounce, the output of the mine amounts
to £2,240,000 a month! Now, to satisfy the doubts of our mutual friend
let us suppose the monthly working expenses to come to four times
what our engineer considers ample, or £40,000, and still we have two
million two hundred thousand golden sovereigns to distribute among the
shareholders every month--a fortune amounting to six hundred and sixty
million francs a year. I can prove that is absolutely correct," added
Armand, bringing his fist down on the table with a thud, "and you, mon
cher Payot, with your underwriting shares added to those you already
possess will enjoy a perpetual income of eighty-eight million francs a
year. Only think of it, my dear friend, and ask yourself what will all
this wealth have cost you? A paltry £8,000. Why, in a year's time you
will be spending more than that in fancy waistcoats and cigars, or tips
to your servants."
A few days later the _Petit Journal_ appeared with a whole page devoted
to the Prospectus of the Company.
The _Journal des Mines_ in a scathing article pointed out that the
whole thing was a fraud from beginning to end, and warned the public
not to touch a share. It even cast doubts on the very existence of the
mine, and called attention to the fact that no railway existed within
a hundred miles of it. But the _Mining Journal_ is not printed for
the general public, who, after all, comprise the vast majority of the
subscribers.
_Le Soir_, _Le Petit Journal_, _Le Temps_, _La Patrie_ and all the
other dailies contained leading articles on the wonderful richness of
the baron's discovery. But although these newspapers made use of it as
excellent copy, they one and all ridiculed it as a 'mare's nest,' and
pointed out that no such mines ever had been, or ever would be found.
Payot had not only taken up the 100 founders' shares of 1,000 francs
each in cash which he borrowed on the securities at his bank, and which
principally found its way into the pockets of the baron and Norcier,
but he had further committed himself by underwriting 40,000 shares at
25 francs each.
As he walked along the boulevard his ears were delighted by the hoarse
cries of the newsvendors--"Discovery of a wonderful mine in Mexico,"
"The New Jerusalem Mine," "Meeting of the Directors," "Complete copy of
the Prospectus."
For a few days it was a seven days' wonder.
Payot spent most of the day fingering the paper tape as it poured out
of the slit of the machine like a serpent's tongue, and formed endless
coils in a large wicker basket beneath it.
At first the shares began to boom.
He fingered the tape with nervous fingers. 25 francs came out in deep
blue figures on the tape. Payot watched the tape roll out--French
Rentes--Suez Canal shares--Messagerie Maritimes--Consols 79.
Then the machine stopped suddenly of its own accord, and as suddenly
started again only to stop once more.
The financier at length saw the welcome news--New Jerusalem 25.50--26
francs--27.50--28--30 francs.
"Hurrah! well done, Jerusalem the Golden"--35 francs--40 francs.
"Ah, that's all right," he said, and the machine stopped again.
He waited a long time, but a fresh quotation failed to appear.
"Never mind, I will go to a first-class restaurant and enjoy a good
dinner. 40 francs," he said to himself. "Well, I have nearly doubled my
money already. That's good enough business for one day," and so saying
he took a taxi and drove off to fetch the baron to dine with him and
drink the health of the New Jerusalem Mine, in a bottle of Perrier
Jouet.
Early the following morning he took up the tape again. His heart
thumped with excitement so much that he could hardly hold the tape
steadily enough to read it.
34 francs, it began--35 francs, ah, that's better--40 francs--45
francs--50 francs. Payot actually clapped his hands with excitement,
and caused several Agents de Bourse to turn round and look at what had
excited him.
"What is amusing you?" he enquired, looking round at a broker who was
examining the tape over Payot's shoulder.
"Only your excitement over those stupid Jerusalems."
"What!" enquired Payot, "have you not bought any? I should advise you
to do so immediately. They are climbing up fast, and if you wait you
will have to pay through the nose for them, I can tell you."
The gentleman to whom Payot spoke so confidently was a delightful
man, passionately fond of children, somewhat abrupt to strangers,
but very warm-hearted and sympathetic with those he knew. He bore a
very remarkable resemblance to Dr. Villebois, with his bald head,
clean-shaven face and bushy side-whiskers. He had a bourgeois mien,
very talkative and gay, and usually spoke in a loud voice, which is
considered so objectionable by the English.
"Bah!" he exclaimed, "I would not touch them with a ten-foot pole. That
mine is a fraud. I know it."
"And how does monsieur know it?" enquired Payot, his heart thumping for
a very different reason from that which excited it a few moments ago.
"Wait a bit, and monsieur will see. I notice they stand at 50 frs. now,
but to-morrow monsieur will find them drop. Oh yes," he added, as
Payot looked flushed and angry at the man's cynical smile, "you will
see. Mark my words and you will see them drop to 30 frs. and then to 20
frs.--10 frs.--5 frs.--and then to this," and he made a circle with his
forefinger and thumb, and winked his eye with a chuckle.
Payot got very red in the face, and cast a defiant glance at the Agent
de Bourse.
"Has monsieur got many?" the broker enquired.
"Yes, I am the proud possessor of a million francs worth."
"Holy Virgin," cried the agent in a mocking tone, "what a fool!"
"Does monsieur wish to insult me then?" cried Payot. "I think I know
what I am doing better than he does. I know the mine and I know the
promoters."
"I beg monsieur's pardon a thousand times," replied the agent, feeling
a little ashamed of himself and assuming a kinder tone, "but I also
know the promoters, and if monsieur will take my poor advice, which I
give without the least prejudice or self interest, monsieur will sell
his shares as quickly as he can. See," he added, as he took up the
tape once more, "regardez-la," and the letters spelt out, 'Jerusalems
45 frs.--35 frs.--20 frs.--17 frs. 50--15 frs.--10 frs.' Payot gazed
at them in terror. He shut his eyes and would have fallen but for his
friend, the agent, who caught hold of him and steadied him.
"Come with me," he said in a kindly voice, and taking him to the
nearest café gave him a glass of brandy.
The brandy revived him and he thanked his friend.
"Now, my dear sir," he replied, "permit me to sell your shares for you."
Payot squeezed his hand. "Merci, monsieur," he replied, "I would gladly
do so, but my shares are all underwritten, and I have not received them
yet."
The broker whistled. "Diable, what a misfortune!" he exclaimed.
"Anyhow, here is my card. Call on me to-morrow at my office, and if I
can be of any assistance, you may rely on me."
He looked at the card which bore the name:--
[Illustration: JEAN BEAUPAIRE.
99a, RUE ST. HONORE,
PARIS.]
The next day the shares dropped--to nine--and finally to eight francs.
Payot felt so ill he sent for Villebois. The worthy doctor did what he
could, but although an admirable physician for bodily ailments, he was
almost helpless to cure the mind.
The day after, the shares made a slight recovery. They went to 12 frs.
50, and finished for the day at 15 frs., but the next day they dropped
again to 6 frs.--no buyers.
Payot called on M. Beaupaire and implored him to help him.
"Certainly, my dear sir, rely on me. I may save some of the wreckage
yet. Anyhow, I will do my best."
The financier squeezed his hand and went back to his house.
A few days later he received a very polite note from the baron in which
he called on him to pay for his underwritten shares, and enclosed a
polite account.
Payot's eyes swam when he saw the amount, £40,000, which had to be met
on the making-up day at the end of the month.
He went to his banker's with a sad heart, and was closeted with him for
a couple of hours, ascertaining the market value of his securities.
They added up to £36,000 in all. There was nothing left but his house
and furniture, and he owed £40,000.
"Sell everything I have at once," he replied, "I am ruined," and he
shook hands with the banker and left the bank with a heavy heart.
He walked, for he was afraid to spend the money on a cab, and arrived
at Monsieur Beaupaire's house.
How terribly dark the future loomed up before him, what visions floated
through his fevered brain. He pondered over the dark days of poverty
which faced him in lurid colours. Where was the dot he promised his
daughter for her marriage portion? What would she think of him now?
How could Delapine marry her when she was without a sou? How could she
earn her living except as a despised and pitied governess? He thought
of his old comrade Duval--the brave old man in spite of his vanity and
eccentricities--now lying cold in the grave. He thought of his son
Pierre, a parricide and an outcast like Ishmael of old, a wild man,
whose hand was against every man and every man's hand against him, and
he trembled at the awful vista it awoke in his mind. He looked out of
the windows and saw the carriages pass with the footmen on the box and
handsome women inside beautifully dressed, and watched them going to
the opera with their lovers or husbands, and he shuddered as he felt
that his poverty would cause all men to forsake him, and he would have
to face the world alone, uncared-for and despised by all, even his
nearest friends. How could he face poverty with its lean fleshless
hands and sunken eyes, the single, cold, comfortless room, and the
pangs of hunger? He thought of all his friends, wealthy, influential,
talented, and how they would turn their heads on one side when he
passed by. Oh, how bitter was the world! He thought of the saying he
had so often repeated at the festive board--'Laugh and the world laughs
with you, cry and the world will laugh at you,' and he felt the fearful
truth and reality of it at last. "When a man is down, kick him. Yes,
that is the way of the world," he said to himself, "ah, yes, it is a
cruel, cruel world when the gilding is all brushed off. Alas, the world
has no sympathy for the gambler who loses."
He was brooding over his terrible blow when M. Beaupaire entered the
room.
"Bon jour, mon ami, I am delighted to see you."
Payot reached out his hand and turned his face aside.
"Console me, my good friend," he said, "I am a ruined man."
"My dear fellow, don't look so glum as that, things are never so bad
that they can't be worse. Come along, cheer up, I have promised to
stick to you and help you, and I mean to do it. Here, have a glass of
wine with me, and we will see what is the best thing to do now."
"It's all up with me, my friend, you can't help me, I am done for."
"Pray don't say that. Everything is for the best."
"Because everything is for the best, it does not follow that everything
is for my best," said Payot gloomily.
"My dear sir, don't be down in the dumps. You remember the adage,
'For every evil under the sun
There's a remedy or there's none.
If there is one try and find it,
If there isn't----never mind it.'
"Cheer up, old man. Don't you remember the saying of Jean Paul Richter
'Sorrow is often sent for our benefit, just as we darken the cages of
the birds in order to teach them to sing.'"
Payot heaved a sigh and said nothing.
"First of all let us sell your shares, mon ami. They have still some
sort of a value, and we must begin to glean the field. I will be back
in an hour."
M. Beaupaire went into the Bourse and tried to sell the shares. He
managed to sell 1,000 at 5 francs, and another 4,000 at 2 frs. 50, but
after that there were no offers.
He found Payot looking the image of despair.
"Never mind, I have sold 5,000 shares for 19,000 frs. That is better
than nothing anyhow," cried Beaupaire cheerily. "By the way, have you
no friends at all who can help you, mon ami?"
"You know what friends are when you have no money."
"Well, well, surely there are some decent ones left?"
"I know the Villebois family, but I don't like to ask assistance of
him."
"Don't you know anyone else--come now think?"
"No, I know no one. Stop, there is Professor Delapine. Perhaps he
would not refuse to listen to me because he is engaged to my daughter."
"What? Do you mean Professor Henri Delapine of the Sorbonne?"
"Yes, why do you ask?"
"My dear fellow, don't lose a minute. He is the very man for you. I
know him intimately--an awfully good sort, and clever! Why he is the
smartest man in Paris. I'll lay you a wager of any amount you like,
that Delapine will pull you through. Shake," he said proffering his
hand to Payot who grasped it warmly.
"Thank you with all my heart," said Payot; "we will see him
immediately," and M. Beaupaire hailed a taxi, and they drove to the
Villebois's.
M. Beaupaire and Payot were soon engaged in earnest conversation with
Delapine, who was propped up in an easy-chair with Renée who sat on a
footstool beside him.
"You need not leave me, Renée," said the professor, as she was about to
retire. "I am sure these gentlemen will not mind, and I know she wants
to know the worst, don't you, Renée?"
Delapine listened quietly to the history of the New Jerusalem bubble,
and leaning back with his eyes half closed, and with the tips of his
fingers pressed together after the manner of divines, but said nothing.
When Payot and Beaupaire had quite finished, Delapine looked up with a
smile.
"Well," he answered, "I like you to put your confidence in me. You are
a man after my own heart, and I promise you I will put you straight
again, in fact all my arrangements for doing it have been completed for
several days past."
"What do you mean, professor?" the two men called out together.
"Have I not put it clearly then?"
"Yes, but we don't understand you."
"Ah, that is another affair. As a matter of fact I did not intend that
you should understand me. But I know everything that has happened since
you first met with that arch-rogue, Baron D'Ormontagne, who by the way
was a bookmaker's clerk who got dismissed for swindling, and is no
more a baron than you are."
"My God," said Payot, "how did you learn all these things?"
"A little bird told me," said Delapine, smiling. "Now, my dear Payot,
all you have to do is to sell everything you have got, and pay off your
debts like a man of honour as I know you are. I give you fourteen days
to do it in."
"Good," replied Payot, "and then?"
"Then come and see me again."
Renée nodded significantly to Delapine.
"My lady doctor is in command of the ship, and her orders have to be
obeyed, and they are that both of you must leave the room at once. Pray
do not think that I want to get rid of you, gentlemen, but I have no
option in the matter," said Delapine, smiling.