manoeuvres with the Blandureaus, and his object in baffling old
Blondet’s efforts, but she saw nothing to be gained by opening the eyes
of father or son to the perils of the situation; she was enjoying the
beginning of the comedy; she knew about the proposals made by Chesnel’s
successor on behalf of Fabien du Ronceret, but she did not suspect
how important that secret might be to her. If she or her husband were
threatened by the President, Mme. Camusot could threaten too, in her
turn, to call the amateur gardener’s attention to a scheme for carrying
off the flower which he meant to transplant into his house.
Chesnel had not penetrated, like Mme. Camusot, into the means by which
Sauvager had been won over; but by dint of looking into the various
lives and interests of the men grouped about the Lilies of the Tribunal,
he knew that he could count upon the public prosecutor, upon Camusot,
and M. Michu. Two judges for the d’Esgrignons would paralyze the rest.
And, finally, Chesnel knew old Blondet well enough to feel sure that if
he ever swerved from impartiality, it would be for the sake of the work
of his whole lifetime,--to secure his son’s appointment. So Chesnel
slept, full of confidence, on the resolve to go to M. Blondet and offer
to realize his so long cherished hopes, while he opened his eyes to
President du Ronceret’s treachery. Blondet won over, he would take a
peremptory tone with the examining magistrate, to whom he hoped to prove
that if Victurnien was not blameless, he had been merely imprudent;
the whole thing should be shown in the light of a boy’s thoughtless
escapade.
But Chesnel slept neither soundly nor for long. Before dawn he was
awakened by his housekeeper. The most bewitching person in this history,
the most adorable youth on the face of the globe, Mme. la Duchesse de
Maufrigneuse herself, in man’s attire, had driven alone from Paris in a
caleche, and was waiting to see him.
“I have come to save him or to die with him,” said she, addressing the
notary, who thought that he was dreaming. “I have brought a hundred
thousand francs, given me by His Majesty out of his private purse, to
buy Victurnien’s innocence, if his adversary can be bribed. If we fail
utterly, I have brought poison to snatch him away before anything takes
place, before even the indictment is drawn up. But we shall not fail. I
have sent word to the public prosecutor; he is on the road behind me;
he could not travel in my caleche, because he wished to take the
instructions of the Keeper of the Seals.”
Chesnel rose to the occasion and played up to the Duchess; he wrapped
himself in his dressing-gown, fell at her feet, and kissed them, not
without asking her pardon for forgetting himself in his joy.
“We are saved!” cried he; and gave orders to Brigitte to see that Mme.
la Duchesse had all that she needed after traveling post all night.
He appealed to the fair Diane’s spirit, by making her see that it was
absolutely necessary that she should visit the examining magistrate
before daylight, lest any one should discover the secret, or so much as
imagine that the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse had come.
“And have I not a passport in due form?” quoth she, displaying a sheet
of paper, wherein she was described as M. le Vicomte Felix de Vandeness,
Master of Requests, and His Majesty’s private secretary. “And do I not
play my man’s part well?” she added, running her fingers through her wig
a la Titus, and twirling her riding switch.
“O! Mme. la Duchesse, you are an angel!” cried Chesnel, with tears
in his eyes. (She was destined always to be an angel, even in man’s
attire.) “Button up your greatcoat, muffle yourself up to the eyes in
your traveling cloak, take my arm, and let us go as quickly as possible
to Camusot’s house before anybody can meet us.”
“Then am I going to see a man called Camusot?” she asked.
“With a nose to match his name,”[*] assented Chesnel.
[*] Camus, flat-nosed
The old notary felt his heart dead within him, but he thought it none
the less necessary to humor the Duchess, to laugh when she laughed, and
shed tears when she wept; groaning in spirit, all the same, over the
feminine frivolity which could find matter for a jest while setting
about a matter so serious. What would he not have done to save the
Count? While Chesnel dressed; Mme. de Maufrigneuse sipped the cup of
coffee and cream which Brigitte brought her, and agreed with herself
that provincial women cooks are superior to Parisian chefs, who despise
the little details which make all the difference to an epicure. Thanks
to Chesnel’s taste for delicate fare, Brigitte was found prepared to set
an excellent meal before the Duchess.
Chesnel and his charming companion set out for M. and Mme. Camusot’s
house.
“Ah! so there is a Mme. Camusot?” said the Duchess. “Then the affair may
be managed.”
“And so much the more readily, because the lady is visibly tired enough
of living among us provincials; she comes from Paris,” said Chesnel.
“Then we must have no secrets from her?”
“You will judge how much to tell or to conceal,” Chesnel replied humbly.
“I am sure that she will be greatly flattered to be the Duchesse de
Maufrigneuse’s hostess; you will be obliged to stay in her house until
nightfall, I expect, unless you find it inconvenient to remain.”
“Is this Mme. Camusot a good-looking woman?” asked the Duchess, with a
coxcomb’s air.
“She is a bit of a queen in her own house.”
“Then she is sure to meddle in court-house affairs,” returned the
Duchess. “Nowhere but in France, my dear M. Chesnel, do you see women
so much wedded to their husbands that they are wedded to their husband’s
professions, work, or business as well. In Italy, England, and Germany,
women make it a point of honor to leave men to fight their own battles;
they shut their eyes to their husbands’ work as perseveringly as our
French citizens’ wives do all that in them lies to understand the
position of their joint-stock partnership; is not that what you call
it in your legal language? Frenchwomen are so incredibly jealous in the
conduct of their married life, that they insist on knowing everything;
and that is how, in the least difficulty, you feel the wife’s hand in
the business; the Frenchwoman advises, guides, and warns her husband.
And, truth to tell, the man is none the worse off. In England, if a
married man is put in prison for debt for twenty-four hours, his wife
will be jealous and make a scene when he comes back.”
“Here we are, without meeting a soul on the way,” said Chesnel. “You are
the more sure of complete ascendency here, Mme. la Duchesse, since Mme.
Camusot’s father is one Thirion, usher of the royal cabinet.”
“And the King never thought of that!” exclaimed the Duchess. “He
thinks of nothing! Thirion introduced us, the Prince de Cadignan, M.
de Vandeness, and me! We shall have it all our own way in this house.
Settle everything with M. Camusot while I talk to his wife.”
The maid, who was washing and dressing the children, showed the visitors
into the little fireless dining-room.
“Take that card to your mistress,” said the Duchess, lowering her voice
for the woman’s ear; “nobody else is to see it. If you are discreet,
child, you shall not lose by it.”
At the sound of a woman’s voice, and the sight of the handsome young
man’s face, the maid looked thunderstruck.
“Wake M. Camusot,” said Chesnel, “and tell him, that I am waiting to see
him on important business,” and she departed upstairs forthwith.
A few minutes later Mme. Camusot, in her dressing-gown, sprang
downstairs and brought the handsome stranger into her room. She had
pushed Camusot out of bed and into his study with all his clothes,
bidding him dress himself at once and wait there. The transformation
scene had been brought about by a bit of pasteboard with the words
MADAME LA DUCHESSE DE MAUFRIGNEUSE engraved upon it. A daughter of the
usher of the royal cabinet took in the whole situation at once.
“Well!” exclaimed the maid-servant, left with Chesnel in the
dining-room, “Would not any one think that a thunderbolt had dropped in
among us? The master is dressing in his study; you can go upstairs.”
“Not a word of all this, mind,” said Chesnel.
Now that he was conscious of the support of a great lady who had the
King’s consent (by word of mouth) to the measures about to be taken for
rescuing the Comte d’Esgrignon, he spoke with an air of authority, which
served his cause much better with Camusot than the humility with which
he would otherwise have approached him.
“Sir,” said he, “the words let fall last evening may have surprised you,
but they are serious. The house of d’Esgrignon counts upon you for the
proper conduct of investigations from which it must issue without a
spot.”
“I shall pass over anything in your remarks, sir, which must be
offensive to me personally, and obnoxious to justice; for your position
with regard to the d’Esgrignons excuses you up to a certain point,
but----”
“Pardon me, sir, if I interrupt you,” said Chesnel. “I have just spoken
aloud the things which your superiors are thinking and dare not avow;
though what those things are any intelligent man can guess, and you are
an intelligent man.--Grant that the young man had acted imprudently, can
you suppose that the sight of a d’Esgrignon dragged into an Assize Court
can be gratifying to the King, the Court, or the Ministry? Is it to the
interest of the kingdom, or of the country, that historic houses should
fall? Is not the existence of a great aristocracy, consecrated by time,
a guarantee of that Equality which is the catchword of the Opposition
at this moment? Well and good; now not only has there not been the
slightest imprudence, but we are innocent victims caught in a trap.”
“I am curious to know how,” said the examining magistrate.
“For the last two years, the Sieur du Croisier has regularly allowed
M. le Comte d’Esgrignon to draw upon him for very large sums,” said
Chesnel. “We are going to produce drafts for more than a hundred
thousand crowns, which he continually met; the amounts being remitted by
me--bear that well in mind--either before or after the bills fell due.
M. le Comte d’Esgrignon is in a position to produce a receipt for the
sum paid by him, before this bill, this alleged forgery was drawn. Can
you fail to see in that case that this charge is a piece of spite and
party feeling? And a charge brought against the heir of a great house
by one of the most dangerous enemies of the Throne and Altar, what is
it but an odious slander? There has been no more forgery in this affair
than there has been in my office. Summon Mme. du Croisier, who knows
nothing as yet of the charge of forgery; she will declare to you that
I brought the money and paid it over to her, so that in her husband’s
absence she might remit the amount for which he has not asked her.
Examine du Croisier on the point; he will tell you that he knows nothing
of my payment to Mme. du Croisier.
“You may make such assertions as these, sir, in M. d’Esgrignon’s salon,
or in any other house where people know nothing of business, and they
may be believed; but no examining magistrate, unless he is a driveling
idiot, can imagine that a woman like Mme. du Croisier, so submissive as
she is to her husband, has a hundred thousand crowns lying in her desk
at this moment, without saying a word to him; nor yet that an old notary
would not have advised M. du Croisier of the deposit on his return to
town.”
“The old notary, sir, had gone to Paris to put a stop to the young man’s
extravagance.”
“I have not yet examined the Comte d’Esgrignon,” Camusot began; “his
answers will point out my duty.”
“Is he in close custody?”
“Yes.”
“Sir,” said Chesnel, seeing danger ahead, “the examination can be made
in our interests or against them. But there are two courses open to you:
you can establish the fact on Mme. du Croisier’s deposition that the
amount was deposited with her before the bill was drawn; or you can
examine the unfortunate young man implicated in this affair, and he in
his confusion may remember nothing and commit himself. You will decide
which is the more credible--a slip of memory on the part of a woman in
her ignorance of business, or a forgery committed by a d’Esgrignon.”
“All this is beside the point,” began Camusot; “the question is, whether
M. le Comte d’Esgrignon has or has not used the lower half of a letter
addressed to him by du Croisier as a bill of exchange.”
“Eh! and so he might,” a voice cried suddenly, as Mme. Camusot broke
in, followed by the handsome stranger, “so he might when M. Chesnel had
advanced the money to meet the bill----”
She leant over her husband.
“You will have the first vacant appointment as assistant judge at Paris,
you are serving the King himself in this affair; I have proof of it; you
will not be forgotten,” she said, lowering her voice in his ear. “This
young man that you see here is the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse; you
must never have seen her, and do all that you can for the young Count
boldly.”
“Gentlemen,” said Camusot, “even if the preliminary examination is
conducted to prove the young Count’s innocence, can I answer for the
view the court may take? M. Chesnel, and you also, my sweet, know what
M. le President wants.”
“Tut, tut, tut!” said Mme. Camusot, “go yourself to M. Michu this
morning, and tell him that the Count has been arrested; you will be two
against two in that case, I will be bound. _Michu_ comes from Paris, and
you know he is devoted to the noblesse. Good blood cannot lie.”
At that very moment Mlle. Cadot’s voice was heard in the doorway. She
had brought a note, and was waiting for an answer. Camusot went out, and
came back again to read the note aloud:
“M. le Vice-President begs M. Camusot to sit in audience to-day and
for the next few days, so that there may be a quorum during M. le
President’s absence.”
“Then there is an end of the preliminary examination!” cried Mme.
Camusot. “Did I not tell you, dear, that they would play you some
ugly trick? The President has gone off to slander you to the public
prosecutor and the President of the Court-Royal. You will be changed
before you can make the examination. Is that clear?”
“You will stay, monsieur,” said the Duchess. “The public prosecutor is
coming, I hope, in time.”
“When the public prosecutor arrives,” little Mme. Camusot said, with
some heat, “he must find all over.--Yes, my dear, yes,” she added,
looking full at her amazed husband.--“Ah! old hypocrite of a President,
you are setting your wits against us; you shall remember it! You have a
mind to help us to a dish of your own making, you shall have two served
up to you by your humble servant Cecile Amelie Thirion!--Poor old
Blondet! It is lucky for him that the President has taken this journey
to turn us out, for now that great oaf of a Joseph Blondet will
marry Mlle. Blandureau. I will let Father Blondet have some seeds in
return.--As for you, Camusot, go to M. Michu’s, while Mme. la Duchesse
and I will go to find old Blondet. You must expect to hear it said all
over the town to-morrow that I took a walk with a lover this morning.”
Mme. Camusot took the Duchess’ arm, and they went through the town by
deserted streets to avoid any unpleasant adventure on the way to the old
Vice-President’s house. Chesnel meanwhile conferred with the young
Count in prison; Camusot had arranged a stolen interview. Cook-maids,
servants, and the other early risers of a country town, seeing Mme.
Camusot and the Duchess taking their way through the back streets, took
the young gentleman for an adorer from Paris. That evening, as Cecile
Amelie had said, the news of her behavior was circulated about the town,
and more than one scandalous rumor was occasioned thereby. Mme. Camusot
and her supposed lover found old Blondet in his greenhouse. He greeted
his colleague’s wife and her companion, and gave the charming young man
a keen, uneasy glance.
“I have the honor to introduce one of my husband’s cousins,” said
Mme. Camusot, bringing forward the Duchess; “he is one of the most
distinguished horticulturists in Paris; and as he cannot spend more than
one day with us, on his way back from Brittany, and has heard of your
flowers and plants, I have taken the liberty of coming early.”
“Oh, the gentleman is a horticulturist, is he?” said the old Blondet.
The Duchess bowed.
“This is my coffee-plant,” said Blondet, “and here is a tea-plant.”
“What can have taken M. le President away from home?” put in Mme.
Camusot. “I will wager that his absence concerns M. Camusot.”
“Exactly.--This, monsieur, is the queerest of all cactuses,” he
continued, producing a flower-pot which appeared to contain a piece of
mildewed rattan; “it comes from Australia. You are very young, sir, to
be a horticulturist.”
“Dear M. Blondet, never mind your flowers,” said Mme. Camusot. “_You_
are concerned, you and your hopes, and your son’s marriage with Mlle.
Blandureau. You are duped by the President.”
“Bah!” said old Blondet, with an incredulous air.
“Yes,” retorted she. “If you cultivated people a little more and your
flowers a little less, you would know that the dowry and the hopes you
have sown, and watered, and tilled, and weeded are on the point of being
gathered now by cunning hands.”
“Madame!----”
“Oh, nobody in the town will have the courage to fly in the President’s
face and warn you. I, however, do not belong to the town, and, thanks to
this obliging young man, I shall soon be going back to Paris; so I can
inform you that Chesnel’s successor has made formal proposals for Mlle.
Claire Blandureau’s hand on behalf of young du Ronceret, who is to have
fifty thousand crowns from his parents. As for Fabien, he has made up
his mind to receive a call to the bar, so as to gain an appointment as
judge.”
Old Blondet dropped the flower-pot which he had brought out for the
Duchess to see.
“Oh, my cactus! Oh, my son! and Mlle. Blandureau!... Look here! the
cactus flower is broken to pieces.”
“No,” Mme. Camusot answered, laughing; “everything can be put right. If
you have a mind to see your son a judge in another month, we will tell
you how you must set to work----”
“Step this way, sir, and you will see my pelargoniums, an enchanting
sight while they are in flower----” Then he added to Mme. Camusot, “Why
did you speak of these matters while your cousin was present.”
“All depends upon him,” riposted Mme. Camusot. “Your son’s appointment
is lost for ever if you let fall a word about this young man.”
“Bah!”
“The young man is a flower----”
“Ah!”
“He is the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse, sent here by His Majesty to save
young d’Esgrignon, whom they arrested yesterday on a charge of forgery
brought against him by du Croisier. Mme. la Duchesse has authority from
the Keeper of the Seals; he will ratify any promises that she makes to
us----”
“My cactus is all right!” exclaimed Blondet, peering at his precious
plant.--“Go on, I am listening.”
“Take counsel with Camusot and Michu to hush up the affair as soon as
possible, and your son will get the appointment. It will come in time
enough to baffle du Ronceret’s underhand dealings with the Blandureaus.
Your son will be something better than assistant judge; he will have
M. Camusot’s post within the year. The public prosecutor will be here
to-day. M. Sauvager will be obliged to resign, I expect, after his
conduct in this affair. At the court my husband will show you documents
which completely exonerate the Count and prove that the forgery was a
trap of du Croisier’s own setting.”
Old Blondet went into the Olympic circus where his six thousand
pelargoniums stood, and made his bow to the Duchess.
“Monsieur,” said he, “if your wishes do not exceed the law, this thing
may be done.”
“Monsieur,” returned the Duchess, “send in your resignation to M.
Chesnel to-morrow, and I will promise you that your son shall be
appointed within the week; but you must not resign until you have had
confirmation of my promise from the public prosecutor. You men of law
will come to a better understanding among yourselves. Only let him know
that the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse had pledged her word to you. And not a
word as to my journey hither,” she added.
The old judge kissed her hand and began recklessly to gather his best
flowers for her.
“Can you think of it? Give them to madame,” said the Duchess. “A young
man should not have flowers about him when he has a pretty woman on his
arm.”
“Before you go down to the court,” added Mme. Camusot, “ask Chesnel’s
successor about those proposals that he made in the name of M. and Mme.
du Ronceret.”
Old Blondet, quite overcome by this revelation of the President’s
duplicity, stood planted on his feet by the wicket gate, looking after
the two women as they hurried away through by-streets home again. The
edifice raised so painfully during ten years for his beloved son was
crumbling visibly before his eyes. Was it possible? He suspected some
trick, and hurried away to Chesnel’s successor.
At half-past nine, before the court was sitting, Vice-President Blondet,
Camusot, and Michu met with remarkable punctuality in the council
chamber. Blondet locked the door with some precautions when Camusot and
Michu came in together.
“Well, Mr. Vice-President,” began Michu, “M. Sauvager, without
consulting the public prosecutor, has issued a warrant for the
apprehension of one Comte d’Esgrignon, in order to serve a grudge borne
against him by one du Croisier, an enemy of the King’s government. It
is a regular topsy-turvy affair. The President, for his part, goes away,
and thereby puts a stop to the preliminary examination! And we know
nothing of the matter. Do they, by any chance, mean to force our hand?”
“This is the first word I have heard of it,” said the Vice-President.
He was furious with the President for stealing a march on him with the
Blandureaus. Chesnel’s successor, the du Roncerets’ man, had just
fallen into a snare set by the old judge; the truth was out, he knew the
secret.
“It is lucky that we spoke to you about the matter, my dear master,”
said Camusot, “or you might have given up all hope of seating your son
on the bench or of marrying him to Mlle. Blandureau.”
“But it is no question of my son, nor of his marriage,” said the
Vice-President; “we are talking of young Comte d’Esgrignon. Is he or is
he not guilty?”
“It seems that Chesnel deposited the amount to meet the bill with
Mme. du Croisier,” said Michu, “and a crime has been made of a mere
irregularity. According to the charge, the Count made use of the lower
half of a letter bearing du Croisier’s signature as a draft which he
cashed at the Kellers’.”
“An imprudent thing to do,” was Camusot’s comment.
“But why is du Croisier proceeding against him if the amount was paid in
beforehand?” asked Vice-President Blondet.
“He does not know that the money was deposited with his wife; or he
pretends that he does not know,” said Camusot.
“It is a piece of provincial spite,” said Michu.
“Still it looks like a forgery to me,” said old Blondet. No passion
could obscure judicial clear-sightedness in him.
“Do you think so?” returned Camusot. “But, at the outset, supposing that
the Count had no business to draw upon du Croisier, there would still be
no forgery of the signature; and the Count believed that he had a right
to draw on Croisier when Chesnel advised him that the money had been
placed to his credit.”
“Well, then, where is the forgery?” asked Blondet. “It is the intent to
defraud which constitutes forgery in a civil action.”
“Oh, it is clear, if you take du Croisier’s version for truth, that
the signature was diverted from its purpose to obtain a sum of money
in spite of du Croisier’s contrary injunction to his bankers,” Camusot
answered.