SACCARD MAKES A START
The letter from the Russian banker at Constantinople, which Sigismond
had translated, was a favourable reply awaited before launching the
enterprise in Paris; and on the next day but one Saccard, on waking,
had an inspiration that he must act at once, and, before night, form
the syndicate which he wished to make sure of, in order to secure the
immediate allotment of the fifty thousand shares of his projected
company. The capital of the latter was to be five and twenty millions,
each share representing five hundred francs.
In jumping out of bed, he had at last just thought of a name for this
company, such as he had long been seeking. The words 'Universal Bank'
had suddenly flamed up before him, in letters of fire as it were, in
the still dark room. 'The Universal Bank,' he kept on repeating whilst
he dressed himself, 'the Universal Bank, that is both simple and grand;
it takes in everything, covers the world. Yes, yes, it is excellent!
the Universal Bank!'
Until half-past nine o'clock he walked up and down his spacious rooms,
absorbed in doubt as to where he should begin hunting for the necessary
millions in Paris. Twenty-five millions of francs--such a sum is still
to be found at a turn of the street; it was rather the embarrassment of
making a selection that made him reflect, for he wished to proceed with
some method. He drank a glass of milk, and evinced no vexation when
the coachman came up to tell him that his horse was not well, having
undoubtedly caught cold, so that it would be prudent to send for the
veterinary surgeon.
'All right, do so. I will take a cab,' said Saccard.
Once out of doors, however, he was surprised by the keen bitterness of
the wind; it was like a sudden return of winter in this month of May,
which only the night before had been so mild. It was not yet raining
certainly, but dense yellow clouds were rising on the horizon. Still he
did not take a cab; a walk, he thought, would warm him up; he might,
first of all, go on foot to Mazaud's office, in the Rue de la Banque;
for he had an idea of sounding the broker with regard to Daigremont,
the well-known speculator, the lucky member of every syndicate. On
reaching the Rue Vivienne, however, such a shower of hail and water
fell from the sky, now overspread with livid clouds, that he took
refuge under the carriage entrance of a house.
He had been standing there for a moment, watching the downpour, when,
above the noise it made, there arose a jingling sound of gold, which
attracted his attention. Continuous, light, and musical, this sound
seemed to come from the bowels of the earth, as in some tale of the
'Arabian Nights.' He turned his head, took his bearings, and saw that
he was standing in the doorway of a house occupied by a banker named
Kolb, whose especial business it was to deal in gold. Buying up specie
in states where it was cheap, he melted it, and sold it in ingots
in the countries where it commanded higher prices; and thus, from
morning till night, on casting days there arose from the basement that
crystalline jingle of gold coins carried by the shovelful from cases to
the melting-pot. The ears of the passers-by fairly rang with the sound
from one year's end to the other. Saccard smiled with satisfaction
as he heard this music, which was like the subterranean voice of the
entire Bourse district. He interpreted it as a happy omen.
The rain had ceased falling, so he crossed the Place, and at once found
himself at Mazaud's. Unlike the majority of his colleagues, the young
broker had his private abode on the first floor of the very house in
which his offices were situated. He had, in fact, simply taken over the
rooms occupied by his uncle, when, on the latter's death, he had agreed
with his joint heirs to purchase the business.
It was striking ten o'clock, and Saccard went straight up to the
offices, at the door of which he met Gustave Sédille.
'Is Monsieur Mazaud in?'
'I do not know, monsieur; I have just come.'
The young man smiled; always a late arrival, he took things at his
ease, like the mere unpaid amateur he was, quite resigned to spending
a year or two in this fashion, in order to please his father, the silk
manufacturer of the Rue des Jeûneurs.
Saccard passed through the outer office, saluted by both cashiers, the
one who dealt with specie and the one who dealt with stock, and then
entered the room set aside for the two 'authorised clerks,' where he
only found Berthier, the one whose duty was to receive customers, and
who accompanied his employer to the Bourse.
'Is Monsieur Mazaud in?'
'Why, I think so; I just left his private room. But no--he isn't there.
He must be in the "cash" office.'
He pushed open a door near at hand, and glanced round a rather large
room, in which live employees were at work, under the orders of a head
clerk.
'No; that's strange. Look for yourself in the "account" office there,
yonder.'
Saccard entered the account office. It was there that the head
accountant, the pivot of the business as it were, aided by seven
employees,[12] went through the memorandum-book, handed him by the
broker every afternoon after the Bourse, and entered to the various
customers the sales and purchases which had been effected according
to their orders. In doing this, he referred to the numerous _fiches_
in order to ascertain the customers' names, for these did not appear
in the memorandum-book, which contained only brief notes of the
transactions: such a stock, such an amount bought or sold, at such a
rate, from such a broker.
'Have you seen Monsieur Mazaud?' inquired Saccard.
But they did not even answer him. The head accountant having gone out,
three of the clerks were reading their newspapers, and two others were
staring up at the ceiling; while the arrival of Gustave Sédille had
just keenly interested little Flory, who in the morning made entries,
and in the afternoon looked after the telegrams at the Bourse. Born
at Saintes, of a father employed at the local registry office, he had
started in life as a clerk to a Bordeaux banker; after which, reaching
Paris towards the close of the previous autumn, he had entered Mazaud's
office with no other prospect before him than the possible doubling of
his salary in ten years' time. At first he had conducted himself well,
performing his duties regularly and conscientiously. But during the
last month, since Gustave had entered the office, he had been going
astray, led away by his new comrade--a fellow of very elegant tastes,
and well provided with money--who was launching out in no small degree,
and had made him acquainted with women. With bearded chin and cheeks,
Flory was possessed of a sensual nose, an amiable mouth, and soft
eyes; and he had now reached the point of indulging in little secret,
inexpensive pleasure parties, with a _figurante_ of the Variétés--a
slim grasshopper from the Parisian pavements, the runaway daughter of
a Montmartre door-porter. She was named Mdlle. Chuchu, and was fairly
amusing with her _papier-mâché_ face, in which gleamed a pair of
beautiful large brown eyes.
Standing behind Flory and Gustave Sédille, Saccard heard them
whispering women's names. He smiled, and addressing himself to Flory,
inquired: 'Haven't you seen Monsieur Mazaud?'
'Yes, monsieur, he came to give me an order, and then went down to his
apartments again. I believe that his little boy is ill; he was told
that the doctor had come. You had better ring at his door, for he will
very likely go out without coming up again.'
Saccard thanked him, and hurried down to the floor below. Mazaud was
one of the youngest of the official brokers, and an extremely lucky
man to boot; for by the death of his uncle he had come into one of the
largest businesses in Paris at an age when one can still learn. Though
short, he was very pleasant-looking, with a small brown moustache and
piercing black eyes; and he displayed great activity, and a very alert
mind. He was already known in the _corbeille_ for his vivacity of mind
and body, such a desideratum in his calling, and one which, coupled
with a keen scent and remarkable intuition, was sure to place him in
the first rank; to say nothing of the fact that he possessed a shrill
piercing voice, received direct information from foreign Bourses, did
business with all the great bankers, and was reputed to have a second
cousin employed at the Havas News Agency. His wife, whom he had married
for love, and who had brought him a dowry of twelve hundred thousand
francs, was a charming young woman, and had already presented him with
two children, a little girl now three years and a boy some eighteen
months old.
As Saccard came down he found Mazaud ushering out the doctor, who was
laughingly tranquillising his paternal anxiety.
'Come in,' said the broker to Saccard. 'It's true, you know--with these
little creatures you at once get anxious; the slightest ailment, and
you think them lost.'
So saying, he ushered him into the drawing-room, where his wife was
still seated, holding the baby on her knees, while the little girl,
glad to see her mother gay, was raising herself on tip-toe to kiss her.
'You see that we were foolish,' said he.
'Ah! that makes no difference, my friend,' she answered. 'I am so glad
that he has reassured us!'
In presence of all this happiness, Saccard halted, bowing. The
room, luxuriously furnished, was redolent of the happy life of this
household, which nothing had yet disunited. During four years of
wedlock, Mazaud had been accused of nothing save a fleeting curiosity
with regard to a vocalist at the Opéra Comique. He remained a faithful
husband, just as he had the reputation of not yet speculating too
heavily on his own account, despite all the natural impetuosity of
youth. And a pleasant perfume of luck, of unclouded felicity could
really be detected here, amid the discreet peacefulness of the
apartment, amid the delicious odour with which a large bouquet of
roses, overflowing from a china vase, had scented the entire room.
Madame Mazaud, who was slightly acquainted with Saccard, addressed him
gaily: 'Is it not true, monsieur, one need only wish it to be always
happy?'
'I am convinced of it, madame,' he answered. 'And besides, there are
persons so beautiful and good that misfortune never dares to touch
them.'
She had risen, radiant. Kissing her husband in her turn, she went out,
carrying the little boy, and followed by the little girl, who had been
hanging on her father's neck. The latter, wishing to hide his emotion,
turned towards his visitor with the bantering remark: 'You see we don't
lead a dull life here.'
Then he quickly added: 'You have something to say to me? Let us go
upstairs, eh? We shall be more at our ease there.'
Up above, in the cashiers' office, Saccard recognised Sabatani, who
had called for some money due to him; and he was surprised to see how
cordially the broker shook hands with his customer. However, as soon
as he was seated in Mazaud's private room, he explained his visit by
questioning the broker as to the formalities which were necessary
to secure the quotation of a new security in the official list. In
a careless way he spoke of the affair which he was about to launch,
the Universal Bank, with a capital of twenty-five millions. Yes, a
financial establishment which would especially patronise certain
great enterprises, which he just alluded to. Mazaud listened with
perfect composure, and, in the most obliging way, explained the
formalities that were requisite. However he was in no wise duped;
Saccard had certainly not called on him merely with reference to this
trifling matter, and so when his visitor at last mentioned the name of
Daigremont he gave an involuntary smile. Certainly Daigremont had a
colossal fortune behind him; it was said that his fidelity was not of
the surest; but then who is faithful in business and in love? Nobody!
For the rest, he (Mazaud) hardly cared to speak the full truth about
Daigremont, for they had quarrelled, and their quarrel had been the
talk of the whole Bourse. Daigremont now gave most of his orders to
a Bordeaux Jew, named Jacoby, a tall man of sixty, with a broad, gay
face, whose roaring voice was celebrated, but who was growing heavy
and corpulent; and there was a sort of rivalry between him and Mazaud,
between the young man favoured by fortune and the elder who owed his
position to long service, for Jacoby had been a mere authorised clerk
until--financed by sleeping partners--he had finally succeeded in
purchasing his employer's business. Though of very great experience and
shrewdness, he was sorely handicapped by his passion for speculation,
and, in spite of considerable profits, always seemed on the eve of a
catastrophe. His money melted away on settling days.
'In any case,' concluded Mazaud, yielding at last to his resentment
against the man he had quarrelled with, spite of all his scruples,
'it is quite certain that Daigremont played his allies false in that
Caraccas affair, and swept away the profits--I consider him a very
dangerous man.' Then, after a pause, he added: 'But why don't you apply
to Gundermann?'
'Never!' cried Saccard, in a fit of passion.
Just then Berthier, the authorised clerk, came in and whispered a few
words in the broker's ear. The Baroness Sandorff had come to pay her
losses, and was raising all sorts of quibbling objections by way of
trying to reduce her account. Mazaud generally hastened to receive her
in person, but, when she had lost, he avoided her like the plague,
certain as he was that his gallantry would be put to too severe a test.
There are no worse clients than women, for as soon as they have to pay
money away they become absolutely dishonest.
'No, no; tell her that I am not in,' he answered testily. 'And don't
abate a centime, you understand?'
When Berthier had gone, seeing by Saccard's smile that he had heard
him, he continued: 'It is true, my dear fellow, she's very pretty, but
you have no idea of her rapacity. Ah; how our customers would love us
if they always won! Yet the richer they are, the higher the society in
which they move, God forgive me! the more I distrust them, the more I
fear I may not be paid. Yes, there are days when, apart from the large
banking houses, I could wish that my connection was purely a provincial
one.'
Just then a clerk came in, handed him some papers that he had asked for
that morning, and then went out.
'See here!' he resumed, 'here is a receiver of dividends at Vendôme, a
man named Fayeux. Well, you can have no idea of the number of orders
that I receive from him. To be sure, these orders, taken singly, are
modest ones, coming as they do from folks of the petty _bourgeoisie_,
shopkeepers and farmers. But there are so many of them. Really, the
best of our business, the very foundation of it, will be found among
the people of modest means, the crowd of nobodies who speculate.'
This somehow reminded Saccard of Sabatani, whom he had seen in the
cashiers' office.
'I see that you have Sabatani now,' said he.
'I have had him for a year, I believe,' replied the broker, with an air
of amiable indifference. 'He's a pleasant fellow, isn't he? He began in
a small way, he is very prudent, and he will end by making something.'
What he did not say, what he no longer even remembered, was that
Sabatani had merely deposited two thousand francs with him by way of
'cover.' Hence the moderate ventures at the outset. Undoubtedly, like
many others, the Levantine expected that the insignificance of this
'cover' would be forgotten; and he evinced great prudence, increasing
his orders in a stealthy gradual fashion, pending the day when, with a
heavy settlement to meet, it would be necessary for him to disappear.
But how could one distrust such a charming fellow, whose friend one
has become? How could one doubt his solvency when one sees him gay,
well-dressed, 'got up' in that elegant style which is indispensable,
the very uniform, as it were, of robbery at the Bourse?
'Very pleasant, very intelligent,' repeated Saccard, suddenly
resolving to remember Sabatani whenever he might need a discreet and
unscrupulous fellow. Then, rising and taking leave, he said: 'Well,
good-bye; when our stock is ready, I will see you again, before trying
to get it quoted.'
And as Mazaud shook hands with him on the threshold, saying: 'You are
wrong; you had better see Gundermann for your syndicate,' he again
shouted in a fury: 'No, never!'
On leaving the broker's private room, he recognised Moser and
Pillerault in the cashiers' office; the first was pocketing with a
woeful air his fortnight's profits of seven or eight thousand francs;
while the other, who had lost, paid over ten thousand francs with a
loud voice, and a proud, aggressive air, as if after a victory. The
luncheon and Bourse hour was approaching, and the office would then
partly empty. Meantime, from the 'account' office, the door of which
was ajar, there came a sound of laughter, provoked by a story which
Gustave was telling Flory--a story of a boating party, at which a
coxswain of the softer sex had fallen into the Seine.
On reaching the street, Saccard consulted his watch. Eleven
o'clock--what a lot of time he had lost! No, he would not go to
Daigremont's; and although he had flown into a passion at the very
mention of Gundermann's name, he suddenly decided to go to see him.
Besides, had he not warned him of his visit on that occasion at
Champeaux' restaurant, when he had spoken to him of his great scheme by
way of silencing his malicious laugh? He even excused the visit on the
plea that he did not wish to get anything out of the man, but simply
desired to confront and triumph over one who ever affected to treat him
as an urchin. And so, as a fresh shower began to lash the pavement with
a flood of water, he leaped into a cab, bidding the Jehu drive him to
the Rue de Provence.
Gundermann there occupied an immense mansion, just large enough for
his innumerable family. He had five daughters and four sons, of whom
three daughters and three sons were married, and these had already
given him fourteen grandchildren. At the evening meal, when all
were gathered together, there were, counting his wife and himself,
thirty-one at table. And, excepting two of his sons-in-law, who
did not live in the house, all had their apartments there, in the
left and right wings facing the garden; for the central block was
entirely occupied by the spacious banking offices. In less than a
century a monstrous fortune of a milliard of francs[13] had been
amassed by this one family, thanks partly to thrift, and partly to
fortunate combinations of circumstances. This wealth seemed a sort of
predestination, which keen intelligence, persistent labour, prudent and
invincible effort--continually directed to the same end--had largely
assisted. Every river of gold now flowed into that sea; other millions
were absorbed by those which Gundermann already possessed; it was a
swallowing-up of the public wealth by the ever-increasing wealth of a
single individual; and Gundermann was the true master, the omnipotent
king, feared and obeyed by Paris and by the world.
As Saccard ascended the broad stone stairway, the steps of which were
worn by the continual ascent and descent of scores of feet--more
worn indeed than the thresholds of many old churches--he felt
inextinguishable hatred for this man rising within him. Ah! the Jew!
Against the Jew he harboured all the old racial resentment, to be found
especially in the South of France; and it was something like a revolt
of his very flesh, a repugnance of the skin, which, at the idea of the
slightest contact, filled him with disgust and anger, a sensation which
no reasoning could allay, which he was quite unable to overcome. And
the singular thing was that he, Saccard, the terrible company promoter,
the spendthrift with unclean hands, lost all self-consciousness as soon
as a Jew was in question, and spoke of him with the harshness, the
revengeful indignation of an honest man who lives by the labour of his
arms, unstained by any usurious dealings. He indicted the whole Hebrew
race, the cursed race without a country, without a prince, which lives
as a parasite upon the nations, pretending to recognise their laws,
but in reality only obeying its Jehovah--its God of robbery, blood,
and wrath; and he pointed to it fulfilling on all sides the mission of
ferocious conquest which this God has assigned to it, establishing
itself among every people, like a spider in the centre of its web, in
order to watch its prey, to suck the blood of one and all, to fatten
itself by devouring others. 'Did anyone ever see a Jew working with
his fingers?' he would ask.[14] Were there any Jewish peasants and
working men? 'No,' he would say; 'labour disgraces, their religion
almost forbids it, exalting only the exploitation of the labour of
others. Ah! the rogues!' Saccard's rage was all the greater because he
admired them, envied their prodigious financial faculties, that innate
knowledge of arithmetic, that natural facility evinced by them in the
most complicated operations, that scent and that luck which assure
triumph in everything they undertake. 'Christians,' he would say, 'make
sorry financial rogues, they always end by coming to grief; but take
a Jew who does not even understand book-keeping, throw him into the
troubled waters of any shady affair, and he will not only save himself,
but bring out all the profit on his back.' It was the gift of the race,
the reason why it ever subsisted among all the other nationalities that
start up and disappear. And he would passionately predict the final
conquest of every nation by the Jews, when they should at last have
secured possession of the entire fortune of the globe, a feat which it
would not take them long to accomplish, since they were allowed every
day to freely extend their kingdom, and one could already see in Paris
a Gundermann reigning on a firmer and more respected throne than the
Emperor's.
When, after climbing the stairs, he was on the point of entering the
spacious ante-room, he felt an inclination to turn back, for he saw
that it was full of _remisiers_ and other applicants, a tumultuous
swarming crowd of men and women. The _remisiers_ especially were
struggling for first place, in the improbable hope of carrying off an
order; for the great banker had his own agents; but it was already an
honour, a recommendation, even to be received by him, and each of them
wished to be able to boast of it. Accordingly the 'waits' were never
long, the two office attendants had little else to do than to organise
the procession--a continuous procession it was, a real gallop through
the swinging doors. And thus, in spite of the crowd, Saccard was almost
immediately admitted with the stream.
Gundermann's private office was a vast apartment, of which he simply
occupied a little corner at the farther end, near the last window.
Seated at a simple mahogany writing table, he was so placed as to
turn his back to the light, his face remaining completely in the
shade. Up at five o'clock every morning, he was at work when Paris was
still asleep; and when at about nine the scramble of appetites began,
rushing past him at a gallop, his day's work was already done. In the
middle of the office, and at larger tables, stood two of his sons,
and one of his sons-in-law who assisted him, rarely sitting down, but
moving about hither and thither amid a world of clerks. All this,
however, was the inner working of the establishment. The crowd from
the street went straight across the room to him, the master, seated in
his modest corner, as for hours and hours he held this open reception
with an impassive gloomy air, often contenting himself with a mere
sign, and only now and again speaking a word when he wished to appear
particularly amiable.
As soon as he perceived Saccard, a faint, somewhat sarcastic smile
lighted up his face.
'Ah! so it's you, my friend,' he said. 'Be seated a moment, if you have
anything to say to me. I will be at your disposal directly.'
Then he pretended to forget him. Saccard, however, was not impatient,
for he felt interested in the procession of _remisiers_, who, at each
other's heels, entered the room with the same profound bow, drawing
from their irreproachable frock coats the same little cards setting
forth the same Bourse quotations, which they presented to the banker
with the same suppliant and respectful gestures. Ten of them, twenty
of them, passed by; the banker each time took the list, glanced at it
and then returned it; and nothing equalled the patience he displayed
beneath this avalanche of offers, unless indeed it were his absolute
indifference.
At last Massias appeared, with the gay yet anxious air of a good dog
who is often whipped. At times folks received him so badly that he
could have cried. That day, undoubtedly, his stock of humility was
exhausted, for he ventured to insist in the most unexpected fashion.
'See! monsieur, Mobiliers are very low. How much shall I buy for you?'
Without taking the proffered list, Gundermann raised his sea-green eyes
upon this young man, who was so familiar, and roughly answered: 'I say,
my friend, do you think it amuses me to receive you?'
'Well, monsieur,' retorted Massias, turning pale, 'it amuses me still
less to come every morning for nothing, as I have done for three months
past.'
'Then don't come again.'
The _remisier_ bowed and withdrew, after exchanging with Saccard the
furious, distressful glance of one who has suddenly become conscious
that he will never make his fortune.
Saccard meantime was asking himself what interest Gundermann could
have in receiving all these people. Evidently he had a special power
of isolating himself; he remained absorbed, continued thinking.
Moreover, in all this there must be some question of discipline, a
habit of passing the market in review every morning, which invariably
conduced to some little profit or other. In a greedy fashion Gundermann
deducted eighty francs from the amount claimed by some jobber to whom
he had given an order the day before, and who, it should be said, was
certainly robbing him. Then a dealer in curiosities arrived, bringing
an enamelled gold box of the last century, which had been considerably
restored, a trick which the banker immediately scented. Next came two
ladies, an old one with the beak of a night-bird, and a young one, a
very beautiful brunette; they wished to show him at their house a Louis
XV. _commode_, which he promptly refused to go and see. Then came a
jeweller with some rubies, a couple of inventors, some Englishmen,
Germans, and Italians, folks of both sexes and every language. And
meantime the procession of _remisiers_ went on just the same, between
the other visits, endless to all appearance, with an incessant
repetition of one and the same gesture--the mechanical presentation of
the list; while, as the hour for the opening of the Bourse approached,
the clerks crossed the room in greater numbers than ever, bringing
telegrams, or coming to ask for signatures.
But the tumult reached a climax when a little boy of five or six,
riding astride a stick, burst into the office, playing a trumpet and
followed by two other children--little girls, one three years old, and
the other eight--who besieged their grandfather's arm-chair, tugged at
his arms, and hung upon his neck; to all which he placidly submitted,
kissing them with all the Jewish passion for one's offspring--the
numerous progeny which yields strength, and which one defends.
Suddenly, however, he seemed to remember Saccard: 'Ah! my good friend,
you must excuse me; you see that I haven't a minute to myself. Come
now, explain your business to me.'
And he was beginning to listen to him, when an employee, who had
introduced a tall, fair gentleman, came to whisper a name in his
ear. He rose promptly, yet without haste, and went to confer with
the gentleman in question at another window, while one of his sons
continued receiving the _remisiers_ and _coulissiers_ in his stead.
In spite of his secret irritation, Saccard was beginning to experience
a feeling of respect. In the tall, fair gentleman he had recognised
the ambassador of one of the Great Powers, full of arrogance at the
Tuileries, but here standing with his head slightly inclined, smiling
like one who solicits some favour. At other times officials of high
rank in the public service, the Emperor's ministers themselves, would
be received standing in this way, in this room as public as a square,
and resounding with the noisy mirth of children. And here was affirmed
the universal sovereignty of this man, who had his own ambassadors in
every court of the world, his consuls in every province, his agents in
every city, and his vessels on every sea. He was not a speculator, a
soldier of fortune manœuvring with the millions of others, dreaming,
like Saccard, of heroic combats in which he should prove conqueror
and win colossal booty for himself, thanks to the aid of mercenary
gold enlisted under his orders; he was, as he quietly said, a simple
money merchant, but the most shrewd, most careful there could be.
Nevertheless, to establish his power, it was essential that he should
rule the Bourse; and so with each settlement there was a new battle, in
which the victory infallibly remained with him, thanks to the decisive
power of his big battalions. For a moment, Saccard, as he sat watching
him, was overwhelmed by the thought that all the money which this man
set in motion was his own, that he held in his cellars an inexhaustible
supply, in which he trafficked like a shrewd and prudent merchant, like
an absolute master, obeyed at a glance, bent on hearing everything,
seeing everything, doing everything himself. A milliard of one's own
thus manipulated is an invincible force.
'We shan't have a minute, my good friend,' said Gundermann, when he
came back. 'I am going to breakfast; come with me into the next room.
Perhaps they will leave us in peace there.'
It was the little dining-room of the mansion, the one used for the
morning meal, and where the entire family was never gathered together.
That day there were only nineteen at table, eight of them children. The
banker sat in the middle, and all he had in front of him was a bowl of
milk.
He remained for a moment with his eyes closed, exhausted by fatigue,
his face very pale and contracted; for he suffered from a complaint
of the liver and the kidneys. Then, when with trembling hands he had
lifted the bowl to his lips, and had drunk a mouthful, he sighed: 'Ah!
I am tired out to-day.'
'Why do you not take a rest?' asked Saccard.
Gundermann turned his eyes upon him in astonishment, and naïvely
answered: 'But I can't.'
In fact, he was not allowed even to drink his milk in peace, for the
reception of the _remisiers_ had begun again; the gallop now went on
across the dining-room, while the members of the family, men and women,
accustomed to all this stir and bustle, laughed and ate heartily
of the cold meats and pastries, and the children, excited by two
thimblefuls of pure wine, raised a deafening din.
Meantime Saccard, who was still watching him, marvelled at seeing him
slowly swallow his milk with such an effort that it seemed as if he
would never manage to empty the bowl. He had been put on a milk diet;
he was no longer allowed to touch even a bit of meat or pastry. And
that being the case, thought Saccard, of what use was his milliard to
him? Moreover, women had never tempted him; for forty years he had
remained strictly faithful to his wife; and now virtue was compulsory
on his part, irrevocably definitive. Why then should he rise at five
o'clock, ply this awful trade, weigh himself down with such immense
fatigue, lead a galley-slave's life which no beggar would have
accepted, with his memory crammed with figures, and his skull fairly
bursting with a whole world of cares? Why, too, add so much useless
gold to so much gold already possessed, when one may not buy and eat
so much as a pound of cherries, or carry a passing girl off to some
waterside wineshop, when one may not enjoy any of the things that are
sold, nor even idleness and liberty? And Saccard, who despite his
terrible appetites made due allowance for the disinterested love of
money, simply for the power that it gives, felt seized with a sort
of holy terror as he gazed upon that face, not that of the classical
miser who hoards, but that of the blameless workman, without a fleshly
instinct, who in his ailing old age had become as it were an abstract
of himself, and obstinately continued building his tower of millions,
with the sole dream of bequeathing it to his descendants, that they
might raise it yet higher, until it should overshadow the entire earth.
At last Gundermann leaned over, and let him explain in an undertone
the projected launching of the Universal Bank. Saccard, however,
was sparing of details, simply alluding to the schemes in Hamelin's
portfolio, for from the first words he had felt that the banker was
trying to draw him, with the predetermination to refuse him his support.
'Another bank, my good friend, another bank!' he repeated in his
sneering way. But the affair into which I would sooner put my money
would be a machine, yes, a guillotine, to cut off the heads of all the
banks already established.... A rake, eh? to clean out the Bourse.
Your engineer hasn't something of that sort among his papers, has
he?' Then, affecting a paternal air, he continued with tranquil
cruelty: 'Come, be reasonable; you know what I told you. You are wrong
to go into business again; I render you a real service in refusing
to launch your syndicate; you will inevitably come to grief, it is
mathematically certain, for you are much too enthusiastic, you have
too much imagination; and besides, matters always end badly when one
deals with other people's money. Why doesn't your brother find you a
good post, eh? a prefecture, or else a financial receivership--no, not
a receivership, that also is too dangerous. Beware, my good friend,
beware.'
Saccard had risen, quivering: 'You have made up your mind, then; you
won't take any stock, you won't be with us?'
'With you? Never in my life. You will be cleared out within three
years.'
There was a spell of silence, instinct with conflict; a sharp exchange
of defiant glances.
'Then, good afternoon. I have not breakfasted yet, and am very hungry.
We shall see who will be cleared out.'
And thereupon Saccard left the great financier in the midst of his
tribe; and whilst they finished noisily stuffing themselves with
pastry, the master went on receiving the last belated brokers, wearily
closing his eyes every now and then, and draining his bowl with little
sips, his lips all white with milk.
Throwing himself into his cab, Saccard gave his own address, Rue
Saint-Lazare. One o'clock was striking, the day was lost; he was going
home to lunch quite beside himself. Ah! the dirty Jew! There indeed
was a fellow whom he would have been pleased to crunch with his teeth
as a dog crunches a bone! Certainly he was a terrible morsel, too big
to eat. But could one ever tell? The greatest empires had crumbled,
a time always comes when the powerful succumb. And without eating
him entirely at the first bite, might he not manage to get his teeth
into him, tear from him some shreds of his milliard? That done, yes,
he might afterwards eat him--why not?--and in the person of their
undisputed king destroy those Jews who thought the feast to be entirely
intended for themselves. These reflections, this wrath with which
he had come away from Gundermann's, filled Saccard with a furious
hankering, an imperative desire for traffic, immediate success. He
would have liked to found his banking-house, set it working, triumph
and crush all rival houses at a wave of his hand. All at once, the
thought of Daigremont came back to him; and without debating the
matter, swayed by an irresistible impulse, he leaned forward and called
to the driver to go up the Rue Larochefoucauld. If he wanted to see
Daigremont, he must make haste and postpone lunch till later, for he
knew that it was Daigremont's habit to go out at about one o'clock. No
doubt this Christian was worse than any two Jews, and passed for an
ogre who devoured the young enterprises entrusted to his care. But at
that moment Saccard would have negotiated with Cartouche[15] himself in
order to conquer, and even on condition of dividing the spoil. Later
on, they would see, he himself would prove the stronger.
Meanwhile the cab, after ascending the steep hill with some difficulty,
stopped in front of the lofty monumental entrance of one of the last
grand mansions of this neighbourhood, which once had some very fine
ones. The detached buildings, at the rear of a vast paved courtyard,
wore an air of royal grandeur; and the garden beyond, in which
centenarian trees were still growing, remained a veritable park,
isolated from the populous streets. All Paris knew that mansion for its
splendid entertainments, and especially for the admirable collection
of pictures assembled there, which not a grand-duke on his travels
failed to visit. Married to a woman who was famous for her beauty, like
his pictures were for theirs, and who had achieved a great success in
society as a vocalist, the master of the house led a princely life,
was as proud of his racing stable as of his gallery, belonged to one
of the principal clubs, paraded the most costly women, and had a box
at the Opera, a chair at the Hôtel Drouot,[16] and a foot-stool at the
questionable resorts most in vogue. And all this profuse life, this
luxury coruscating in an apotheosis of caprice and art, was entirely
paid for by speculation, by a fortune which was incessantly on the
move, and which seemed infinite like the sea, though, like the sea, it
had its ebb and flow--balances in one or the other sense of two and
three hundred thousand francs at each fortnightly settlement.
When Saccard had climbed the majestic entrance steps, a valet announced
him, and escorted him through three reception rooms filled with
marvels, to a little smoking room where Daigremont was finishing a
cigar before going out. Already forty-five years of age, and struggling
against stoutness, he was of high stature and very elegant, with his
hair carefully trimmed, and wearing only a moustache and imperial,
like a fanatic of the Tuileries. He affected great amiability, having
absolute confidence in himself, a firm conviction of conquering.
He at once darted forward. 'Ah! my dear friend, what is becoming of
you?' said he. 'Only the other day I was thinking about you. But are
you not now my neighbour?'
He calmed down, however, and set aside this effusive manner, which he
kept for the common herd, when Saccard, deeming it useless to beat
about the bush, forthwith broached the object of his visit, expatiating
on his great enterprise, and explaining that, before establishing the
Universal Bank with a capital of twenty-five millions of francs, he
wished to form a syndicate of friends--bankers and manufacturers--who
would pressure the success of the issue by agreeing to take four-fifths
of the shares, that was, some forty thousand. Daigremont had become
very serious, and listened to him, and watched him, as if searching
to the depths of his brain, to ascertain what effort, what labour
useful to himself, he might yet get out of this man whom he had known
so active, so full of marvellous qualities amidst all his blundering
fever. At first he hesitated. 'No, no,' said he, 'I am overwhelmed
already; I do not wish to take anything fresh in hand.'
Then, tempted nevertheless, he asked some questions, wished to know
what projects the new venture would patronise, projects which Saccard
was prudent enough to speak about with the extremest reserve. And when
Daigremont had been made acquainted with the first enterprise which it
was intended to launch, that idea of syndicating all the Mediterranean
transport companies under the name of the United Steam Navigation
Company, he seemed very much struck with it, and suddenly yielded.
'Well, I consent to go in. But on one condition only. How do you stand
with your brother, the minister?'
Saccard was so surprised at the question that he frankly displayed his
rancour. 'With my brother? Oh! he does his business, and I do mine. He
hasn't very fraternal feelings, that brother of mine.'
'Then so much the worse!' flatly declared Daigremont. 'I won't be with
you unless your brother is with you too. You understand, I won't have
you two at loggerheads together.'
With an angry gesture of impatience Saccard began protesting. What
need had they of Rougon? Would it not be seeking chains with which
to bind themselves hand and foot? But at the same time the voice of
prudence, stronger than his irritation, repeated to him that it was at
least necessary that they should assure themselves of the great man's
neutrality. And yet, after all, he brutally refused. 'No, no, he has
always been too hoggish with me. I will never take the first step.'
'Listen,' resumed Daigremont. 'I expect Huret here at five o'clock with
respect to a commission he has undertaken for me. You will hurry off to
the Corps Législatif, take Huret into a corner, tell him your plans,
and he will at once speak of the matter to Rougon, find out what the
latter thinks of it, and we shall have the answer here at five o'clock.
That's it, eh? An appointment here at five o'clock?'
With his head low, Saccard reflected. '_Mon Dieu_!' said he, 'if you
insist upon it.'
'Oh, absolutely! Without Rougon, nothing; with Rougon, anything you
like.'
'All right, I will go then.'
They had shaken hands vigorously, and Saccard had started off, when the
other called him back. 'Ah, I say, if you find things promising, just
call on your way back upon the Marquis de Bohain and Sédille; tell them
that I am going in, and ask them to join--I want them with us.'
At the door Saccard found his cab, which he had kept, although he
had only to go down to the end of the street to get home. He now
dismissed the vehicle, in the idea that he could have his own horse
in the afternoon; and then he hurried back to get something to eat.
They had long since given him up; however, the cook served him a bit
of cold meat, which he devoured whilst quarrelling with the coachman;
for when the latter had been summoned, and had given an account of
the veterinary surgeon's visit, it appeared that the horse must be
allowed three or four days' rest. Thereupon Saccard, with his mouth
full, accused the coachman of neglect, and threatened him with Madame
Caroline, who would see to it all. Finally, he shouted for him to go
for another cab. Just then a diluvian shower again swept the street,
and he had to wait more than a quarter of an hour for a vehicle, into
which he stepped, under the torrential downpour, shouting the address:
'To the Corps Législatif!'
His plan was to arrive before the sitting, so that he might get hold of
Huret, and quietly interview him. Unfortunately an exciting debate was
feared that day, for a member of the Left was to bring up the eternal
question of Mexico, and Rougon no doubt would be obliged to reply.
As Saccard entered the Salle des Pas Perdus,[17] he was lucky enough
to meet the deputy, and led him into one of the little reception-rooms
near by, where they found themselves alone, thanks to the great
excitement prevailing in the lobbies. The opposition was growing more
and more formidable, a wind of catastrophe was beginning to blow--a
wind destined to increase and sweep everything away. Thus Huret, who
was very preoccupied, did not at first understand Saccard, and the
latter had to repeat his request. On the deputy realising what was
wanted of him, his dismay increased: 'Oh, my dear friend, how can you
think of such a thing!' he exclaimed. 'Speak to Rougon at such a moment
as this! He will send me to the deuce, you may be sure of it.'
Then his anxiety as to his personal interests became manifest. His very
existence depended on the great man, to whom he owed his selection as
an official candidate, his election, his situation as a kind of general
servant living on the crumbs of his master's favour. By following this
calling for a couple of years, he had, thanks to bribes and pickings
prudently realised, been able to increase his extensive Calvados
estates, intending to retire and enthrone himself there after the
Downfall.
His fat, cunning, peasant-like face had now darkened, and expressed
all the embarrassment he felt at this sudden request for intervention,
which gave him no time to consider whether he would gain or lose
thereby. 'No, no! I cannot,' he repeated. 'I told you your brother's
decision; I cannot disturb him again. The devil! think of me a little.
He's by no means gentle when he's bothered; and, plainly now, I've no
desire to pay for you at the cost of my own credit.'
Thereupon, Saccard, understanding, strove to convince him that millions
of money were to be gained by the launching of the Universal Bank. With
broad touches and glowing words, which transformed a pecuniary affair
into a poet's tale, he explained all the superb enterprises which were
in view, and dwelt on their certain and colossal success. Daigremont,
whose enthusiasm was roused, would place himself at the head of the
syndicate. Bohain and Sédille had already asked to come into it. It
was impossible that he, Huret, should not be one of them: the others
absolutely wanted him to join them on account of his high political
position. They even hoped that he would consent to become a member of
the board of directors, for his name was a guarantee of method and
probity.
At this promise that he should be made a director, the deputy looked
Saccard full in the face. 'Well, what is it that you want of me, what
reply do you wish me to get from Rougon?' he asked.
'Oh! for my part,' replied Saccard, 'I would willingly have dispensed
with my brother. But Daigremont insists on a reconciliation. Perhaps he
is right--so I think that you ought simply to speak of our affair to
the terrible fellow, and obtain, if not his help, at least a promise
that he won't oppose us.'
Huret, his eyes half closed, still seemed undecided.
'You see, if you can only draw an amiable word from him--just an
amiable word, you understand--Daigremont will be satisfied with it, and
we will settle the matter this afternoon between us three.'
'Well, I will try,' suddenly declared the deputy, affecting a peasant's
bluntness, 'but I shall only do so for your sake, for he is not a
pleasant customer by any means--no indeed, especially when the Left is
tormenting him. At five o'clock, then?'
'At five o'clock.'
For nearly an hour longer Saccard lingered at the Palais Bourbon,
greatly disturbed by the rumours of battle which were afloat. Hearing
one of the great orators of the Opposition announce that he meant to
speak, he momentarily felt a desire to go in search of Huret again,
and ask him if it would not be prudent to postpone the interview with
Rougon until the next day. Then, fatalist that he was, believing in
chance, he trembled lest he might compromise everything if he altered
existing arrangements. Perhaps, too, in the scramble, his brother would
the more readily speak the desired word. And thereupon, in order to
let things take their course, he started off, and again got into his
cab, which was already recrossing the Pont de la Concorde, when he
recollected the desire expressed by Daigremont: 'Driver,' he called,
'Rue de Babylone.'
It was in the Rue de Babylone that the Marquis de Bohain lived,
occupying a grand mansion's former dependencies--a pavilion which
had once sheltered stablemen, but had now been transformed into a
very comfortable modern house, the luxurious appointments of which
were coquettishly aristocratic. The Marquis's wife, by the way, was
never seen; her health was bad, he said; infirmities kept her in
her apartments. Nevertheless, the house and furniture were hers; he
lived with her only as a lodger, having nothing of his own save his
clothes, a trunkful, which he could have carried away on a cab. He and
she had been legally separated, so far as estate went, since he had
begun living by speculation. On two disastrous occasions already he
had flatly refused to pay up what he owed, and the official receiver,
after looking into matters, had not even taken the trouble to send
him any stamped paper. The sponge was passed over the claims against
him. He pocketed as long as he won, but as soon as he lost he did not
pay; folks knew it, and resigned themselves to it. On the other hand,
he bore an illustrious name, and his presence and manners were of a
kind to adorn a board of directors, so that new companies in search
of a little gilding disputed with each other for his services, and he
never knew a slack time. At the Bourse he had his chair on the Rue
Notre-Dame-des-Victoires side frequented by the rich speculators, who
pretended to take no interest in the little rumours of the day. They
respected and frequently consulted him. He had often influenced the
market. And, briefly, he was quite a personage.
Though Saccard knew the Marquis well, he was nevertheless impressed
by the loftily polite reception accorded him by this handsome old man
of sixty, whose small head was perched upon a colossal body, a brown
wig setting off his pale face, the expression of which was exceedingly
aristocratic.
'Monsieur le Marquis, I come as a veritable solicitor,' said Saccard,
explaining the motive of his visit, but without entering into details.
At his first words, however, the Marquis stopped him. 'No no, all my
time is taken. I have at this moment a dozen proposals which I must
refuse.'
Then, as Saccard added, smiling, 'Daigremont sent me; he thought of
you,' he immediately exclaimed, 'Oh! is Daigremont in it? Well, well,
if Daigremont is with you, so am I. Rely on me.'
Then, as his visitor wished to furnish him with at least a little
information, so that he might know what sort of an undertaking he was
joining, he closed his mouth, with the amiable, easy-going manner of
a _grand seigneur_, who does not descend to such details, and has a
natural confidence in people's probity.
'Not another word, I beg of you. I do not wish to know. You need my
name, I lend it to you, and I am very glad to do so; that is all.
Simply tell Daigremont to arrange the matter to his liking.'
On stepping into his cab again, Saccard, feeling quite gay, laughed
inwardly. 'He will cost us dear,' he thought, 'but he is really
charming.' Then he added aloud: 'Driver, Rue des Jeûneurs.'
It was here that Sédille had his warehouses and offices on a vast
ground-floor at the far end of a courtyard. After thirty years' toil,
Sédille, who was a native of Lyons and had retained some workshops
there, had at last succeeded in making his silk business one of the
best known and best established in Paris, when a passion for gambling,
due to chance circumstances, broke out and spread within him with
the destructive violence of a conflagration. A couple of strokes,
which one after the other yielded him considerable profit, made him
altogether lose his head. What was the use of giving thirty years of
one's life to the earning of a paltry million, when, in a single hour,
by a simple transaction at the Bourse, one can put the same amount in
one's pocket? From that time he gradually ceased to take any interest
in his business, which simply continued working thanks to pre-acquired
motive power. He lived in the sole hope of some triumphant stroke of
speculation; and, having fallen on a vein of persistent ill-luck, soon
sank in gambling all the profits of his business. The worst of such a
fever as this is that a man becomes disgusted with legitimate gains,
and finally even loses an exact idea of money. And ruin lay inevitably
at the end, for in vain did the Lyons workshops bring Sédille in a
couple of hundred thousand francs a year, since speculation swept away
three hundred thousand.
Saccard found him agitated and anxious, for this merchant gambler
lacked phlegm and philosophy. He lived in a state of remorse, always
hoping, always dejected, sick with uncertainty, and all this because
he was still honest at heart. The settlement at the end of April had
proved disastrous to him. However, his fat face, fringed with large
fair whiskers, flushed at the first words: 'Ah! my dear fellow, if it
is luck that you bring me, you are welcome!' Then seized with a fit of
terror, he added: 'But no, no, do not tempt me. I should do better to
shut myself up with my goods, and never stir from my counting-house.'
Wishing to let him calm himself, Saccard began speaking to him of his
son Gustave, whom he had seen, he said, that morning at Mazaud's. But
to the merchant this was another subject of chagrin, for he had dreamt
of transferring the responsibility of his establishment to this son,
and the latter despised commercial pursuits, and cared only for mirth
and festivity, having the white teeth of a parvenu's son, teeth only
fit to devour the fortune that might some day fall to them. Still, his
father had placed him with Mazaud to see if he would nibble at finance.
'Since the death of his poor mother,' murmured the manufacturer, 'he
has given me very little satisfaction. But in a broker's office he will
perhaps learn some things that may be useful to me.'
'Well,' resumed Saccard abruptly, 'are you with us? Daigremont told me
to come and tell you that he was going in.'
Sédille raised his trembling arms to heaven, and, in a voice expressive
both of desire and fear, replied: 'Why, yes, I am with you. You know
very well that I can't do otherwise than go in with you! If I should
refuse and your enterprise should prosper, I should fall ill with
regret. Tell Daigremont that I will go in.'
When Saccard found himself in the street again, he pulled out his
watch, and saw that it was scarcely four o'clock. The time that he had
before him, and the desire that he felt to walk a little, induced him
to dismiss his cab. He repented of it almost immediately, however, for
he had not reached the boulevard when a fresh shower, a deluge of water
mingled with hail, again forced him to take refuge in a doorway. What
cursed weather, when one had to scour Paris! After watching the rain
fall for a quarter of an hour, he grew impatient again, and hailed an
empty cab which was passing. It was a victoria, and in vain did he tuck
the leather apron about his legs, for he was quite drenched when he
reached the Rue Larochefoucauld, a good half-hour before his time.
The valet stated that his master had not yet returned, but conducted
him to the smoking-room, where with slow short steps he paced up
and down looking at the pictures. Then as a superb female voice, a
contralto of deep and melancholy power, suddenly broke the silence of
the mansion, he approached the open window to listen: it was Madame
Daigremont rehearsing at her piano a composition which she doubtless
meant to sing that evening in some _salon_. Lulled by the music,
Saccard began thinking of the extraordinary stories that had been told
him of Daigremont: the story of the Adamantine Company especially,
that loan of fifty millions, all the securities of which he had kept
in hand, selling them and re-selling them five times in succession,
through agents of his own, until he had created a market, established
a price for them. Then had come the genuine sale, followed by the
inevitable fall from three hundred to fifteen francs, enormous profits
being made out of a little world of simpletons, who were ruined at one
blow. Ah! Daigremont was indeed a strong, a terrible man. Meantime his
wife's voice still rang out, exhaling a wild, loving plaint of tragic
intensity; while Saccard, stepping back to the middle of the room,
halted before a Meissonier, which he valued at a hundred thousand
francs.
Just then, however, some one came in, and on turning he was surprised
to recognise Huret. 'What! here already? It is not yet five o'clock. Is
the sitting over, then?'
'Over! what an idea! They are still squabbling.'
And thereupon he explained that, as the deputy of the Opposition was
still speaking, Rougon would certainly not be able to answer until the
next day. On realising that, he had ventured to tackle the minister,
during a short adjournment, between two doors.
'Well,' asked Saccard nervously, 'and what did my illustrious brother
say?'
Huret did not answer immediately. 'Oh! he was as surly as a bear. I
will own that I relied on the exasperation in which I found him, for I
hoped that he would simply tell me to be off. Well, I told him of your
affair, and said that you did not wish to undertake anything without
his approval.'
'And then?'
'Then he seized me by both arms, and shook me, shouting in my face:
"Let him go and get hanged!" and there he planted me.'
Saccard, who had turned pale, gave a forced laugh. 'That was pleasant,'
said he.
'Why yes, pleasant indeed,' answered the deputy, in a tone of
conviction. 'I did not ask for so much; with that we can go ahead.'
Then as in the next room he heard the footfall of Daigremont, who had
just returned, he added in a low voice: 'Let me arrange it all.'
It was becoming evident that Huret greatly desired to see the Universal
Bank established, and to become connected with it. No doubt he had
already satisfied himself as to what kind of part he might play in the
affair. Consequently, as soon as he had shaken hands with Daigremont,
he put on a radiant expression, and waved his arm in the air.
'Victory!' he exclaimed, 'victory!'
'Ah! really. Tell me about it.'
'Well! the great man did as he was bound to do. He answered me, "Let my
brother succeed!"'
Daigremont was in an ecstasy, so charming did he find the phrase 'Let
him succeed!' It implied everything: 'If he is so stupid as not to
succeed, I shall drop him; but let him succeed, and I will assist him.'
Really it was quite exquisite!
'And, my dear Saccard, we shall succeed,' said Daigremont. 'Be easy
on that point. We are going to do everything that is necessary to that
end.'
Then, the three men having sat down, in order to decide upon the
principal points, Daigremont rose up and went to close the window; for
his wife's voice, gradually swelling in volume, was giving vent to a
sob of infinite despair, which prevented them from hearing one another.
And even with the window closed, the stifled lamentation resounded
like an accompaniment while they decided upon founding a financial
establishment to be called the Universal Bank, with a capital of
twenty-five millions of francs, divided into fifty thousand shares of
five hundred francs each. It was further agreed that Daigremont, Huret,
Sédille, the Marquis de Bohain, and a few of their friends, should form
a syndicate to take four-fifths of the stock in advance, and divide
it among themselves, so that in the first place the success of the
issue would be assured, whilst later on, keeping the shares in their
possession, they would be able to create a scarcity in the market, and
send the price up at will. However, everything nearly fell through
when Daigremont demanded a premium of four hundred thousand francs to
be divided among the forty thousand shares of the syndicate, at the
rate of ten francs a share. Saccard protested, declaring that it was
not reasonable to make the cow bellow before milking her. Matters were
bound to be difficult at the outset; why make the situation any worse?
Nevertheless he had to yield, in view of the attitude of Huret, who
quietly regarded the matter as quite natural, saying that it was always
done.
They were separating, having fixed an appointment for the next day,
an appointment at which Hamelin the engineer was to be present, when
Daigremont suddenly clapped his hand to his forehead with an air of
despair. 'And Kolb, whom I was forgetting!' he said. 'Oh! he would
never forgive me; he must be one of us. My little Saccard, if you want
to oblige me, you will go to his place directly. It isn't six o'clock
yet; you will still find him there. Yes, go yourself and not to-morrow,
but to-night, because that will have an effect on him, and he may be
useful to us.'
With all docility Saccard started off again, knowing that lucky days do
not come twice over. But he had again dismissed his cab, having hoped
to go home--a distance of a few steps--on leaving Daigremont's; and so,
as the rain seemed to have stopped at last, he descended the street on
foot, happy to feel under his heels the pavement of Paris, which he was
reconquering. In the Faubourg Montmartre a few drops of rain made him
take to the covered passages, the Passage Verdeau, the Passage Jouffroy
and the Passage des Panoramas, which last brought him out again into
the Rue Vivienne.
Here at the moment when he was about to enter Kolb's he once more
started and stopped. A soft, crystalline music, coming as it were
from the bowels of the earth, like the voices of legendary fairies,
enveloped him; and he recognised the musical voice of gold, the
continual jingle which pervaded this neighbourhood of trade and
speculation, and which he had already heard in the morning. The end of
the day was like its beginning; and the caressing sound of this voice
made him radiant, it seemed like the confirmation of a good omen.
Kolb happened to be downstairs in the casting shop, and, as a friend of
the house, Saccard went down to join him there. In the bare basement,
ever lighted by large flaming gas-jets, the two founders were emptying
by the shovelful several zinc lined boxes, filled that day with Spanish
coins which they threw into the melting-pot on the great square
furnace. The beat was intense; they had to shout to make themselves
heard amid this harmonica-like music vibrating under the low vaulted
ceiling. Freshly cast ingots, golden paving-stones, having all the
glittering brilliancy of new metal, stood in rows upon the table of the
assayer, who determined the standard. And since morning more than six
millions of francs had passed through the founders' hands, assuring the
banker a profit of no more than three or four hundred francs; for the
difference realised, between two quotations is of the smallest, being
measured by thousandths, so that in gold arbitrage, as the traffic
is called, a profit only accrues when large quantities of metal are
dealt with. Hence this tinkling of gold, this streaming of gold, from
morning till night, from year's end to year's end, in the depths of
that cellar, whither the gold came in coins, and whence it went away
in ingots, to come back again in coins and go away again in ingots
indefinitely, with the sole object of leaving in the trader's hands a
few particles of the precious metal.
As soon as Kolb--a little man with a very dark complexion, whose
nose, shaped like an eagle's beak, and emerging from a thick beard,
proclaimed his Jewish origin--had understood Saccard's offer, which the
gold almost drowned with a sound of hail, he accepted it. 'Certainly,'
he cried. 'I am very glad to be in it, if Daigremont is! And thank you
for having put yourself out on my account.'
However, they scarcely heard each other, and relapsed into silence,
lingering there a moment longer, deafened, but experiencing a sensation
of beatitude amid that clear provoking jingling, which made their
flesh quiver, like some _altissimo_ note prolonged upon the strings of
violins to the point of provoking spasm.
Outside, although the fine weather had returned, although it was now a
clear May evening, Saccard, worn out with fatigue, once more took a cab
to go home. It had been a hard, but a well-filled day.