Part 65

“M. le President had already started for the Court.” Fraisier told Villemot, “and I did not think it necessary to tear him away from business; he would have come too late, in any case. He is the next-of-kin; but as he has been disinherited, and M. Schmucke gets everything, I thought that if his legal representative were present it would be enough.”

Topinard lent an ear to this.

“Who was the queer customer that took the fourth corner?” continued Fraisier.

“He is an agent for a firm of monumental stone-masons. He would like an order for a tomb, on which he proposes to put three sculptured marble figures--Music, Painting, and Sculpture shedding tears over the deceased.”

“It is an idea,” said Fraisier; “the old gentleman certainly deserved that much; but the monument would cost seven or eight hundred francs.”

“Oh! quite that!”

“If M. Schmucke gives the order, it cannot affect the estate. You might eat up a whole property with such expenses.”

“There would be a lawsuit, but you would gain it--”

“Very well,” said Fraisier, “then it will be his affair.--It would be a nice practical joke to play upon the monument-makers,” Fraisier added in Villemot’s ear; “for if the will is upset (and I can answer for that), or if there is no will at all, who would pay them?”

Villemot grinned like a monkey, and the pair began to talk confidentially, lowering their voices; but the man from the theatre, with his wits and senses sharpened in the world behind the scenes, could guess at the nature of their discourse; in spite of the rumbling of the carriage and other hindrances, he began to understand that these representatives of justice were scheming to plunge poor Schmucke into difficulties; and when at last he heard the ominous word “Clichy,” the honest and loyal servitor of the stage made up his mind to watch over Pons’ friend.

At the cemetery, where three square yards of ground had been purchased through the good offices of the firm of Sonet (Villemot having announced Schmucke’s intention of erecting a magnificent monument), the master of ceremonies led Schmucke through a curious crowd to the grave into which Pons’ coffin was about to be lowered; but here, at the sight of the square hole, the four men waiting with ropes to lower the bier, and the clergy saying the last prayer for the dead at the grave-side, something clutched tightly at the German’s heart. He fainted away.

Sonet’s agent and M. Sonet himself came to help Topinard to carry poor Schmucke into the marble-works hard by, where Mme. Sonet and Mme. Vitelot (Sonet’s partner’s wife) were eagerly prodigal of efforts to revive him. Topinard stayed. He had seen Fraisier in conversation with Sonet’s agent, and Fraisier, in his opinion, had gallows-bird written on his face.

An hour later, towards half-past two o’clock, the poor, innocent German came to himself. Schmucke thought that he had been dreaming for the past two days; if he could only wake, he should find Pons still alive. So many wet towels had been laid on his forehead, he had been made to inhale salts and vinegar to such an extent, that he opened his eyes at last. Mme. Sonet make him take some meat-soup, for they had put the pot on the fire at the marble-works.

“Our clients do not often take things to heart like this; still, it happens once in a year or two--”

At last Schmucke talked of returning to the Rue de Normandie, and at this Sonet began at once.

“Here is the design, sir,” he said; “Vitelot drew it expressly for you, and sat up last night to do it.... And he has been happily inspired, it will look fine--”

“One of the finest in Pere-Lachaise!” said the little Mme. Sonet. “But you really ought to honor the memory of a friend who left you all his fortune.”

The design, supposed to have been drawn on purpose, had, as a matter of fact, been prepared for de Marsay, the famous cabinet minister. His widow, however, had given the commission to Stidmann; people were disgusted with the tawdriness of the project, and it was refused. The three figures at that period represented the three days of July which brought the eminent minister to power. Subsequently, Sonet and Vitelot had turned the Three Glorious Days--“les trois glorieuses”--into the Army, Finance, and the Family, and sent in the design for the sepulchre of the late lamented Charles Keller; and here again Stidmann took the commission. In the eleven years that followed, the sketch had been modified to suit all kinds of requirements, and now in Vitelot’s fresh tracing they reappeared as Music, Sculpture, and Painting.

“It is a mere trifle when you think of the details and cost of setting it up; for it will take six months,” said Vitelot. “Here is the estimate and the order-form--seven thousand francs, sketch in plaster not included.”

“If M. Schmucke would like marble,” put in Sonet (marble being his special department), “it would cost twelve thousand francs, and monsieur would immortalize himself as well as his friend.”

Topinard turned to Vitelot.

“I have just heard that they are going to dispute the will,” he whispered, “and the relatives are likely to come by their property. Go and speak to M. Camusot, for this poor, harmless creature has not a farthing.”

“This is the kind of customer that you always bring us,” said Mme. Vitelot, beginning a quarrel with the agent.

Topinard led Schmucke away, and they returned home on foot to the Rue de Normandie, for the mourning-coaches had been sent back.

“Do not leaf me,” Schmucke said, when Topinard had seen him safe into Mme. Sauvage’s hands, and wanted to go.

“It is four o’clock, dear M. Schmucke. I must go home to dinner. My wife is a box-opener--she will not know what has become of me. The theatre opens at a quarter to six, you know.”

“Yes, I know... but remember dat I am alone in die earth, dat I haf no friend. You dat haf shed a tear for Bons enliden me; I am in teep tarkness, und Bons said dat I vas in der midst of shcoundrels.”

“I have seen that plainly already; I have just prevented them from sending you to Clichy.”