Part 74

“Have you Vitel’s resignation?”

“Yes, monsieur. M. Vitel has put himself in M. de Marville’s hands.”

“Very good, madame. I have already saved you sixty thousand francs which I expected to give to that vile creature Mme. Cibot. But I still require the tobacconist’s license for the woman Sauvage, and an appointment to the vacant place of head-physician at the Quinze-Vingts for my friend Poulain.”

“Agreed--it is all arranged.”

“Very well. There is no more to be said. Every one is for you in this business, even Gaudissart, the manager of the theatre. I went to look him up yesterday, and he undertook to crush the workman who seemed likely to give us trouble.”

“Oh, I know M. Gaudissart is devoted to the Popinots.”

Fraisier went out. Unluckily, he missed Gaudissart, and the fatal summons was served forthwith.

If all covetous minds will sympathize with the Presidente, all honest folk will turn in abhorrence from her joy when Gaudissart came twenty minutes later to report his conversation with poor Schmucke. She gave her full approval; she was obliged beyond all expression for the thoughtful way in which the manager relieved her of any remaining scruples by observations which seemed to her to be very sensible and just.

“I thought as I came, Mme. la Presidente, that the poor devil would not know what to do with the money. ‘Tis a patriarchally simple nature. He is a child, he is a German, he ought to be stuffed and put in a glass case like a waxen image. Which is to say that, in my opinion, he is quite puzzled enough already with his income of two thousand five hundred francs, and here you are provoking him into extravagance--”

“It is very generous of him to wish to enrich the poor fellow who regrets the loss of our cousin,” pronounced the Presidente. “For my own part, I am sorry for the little squabble that estranged M. Pons and me. If he had come back again, all would have been forgiven. If you only knew how my husband misses him! M. de Marville received no notice of the death, and was in despair; family claims are sacred for him, he would have gone to the service and the interment, and I myself would have been at the mass--”

“Very well, fair lady,” said Gaudissart. “Be so good as to have the documents drawn up, and at four o’clock I will bring this German to you. Please remember me to your charming daughter the Vicomtesse, and ask her to tell my illustrious friend the great statesman, her good and excellent father-in-law, how deeply I am devoted to him and his, and ask him to continue his valued favors. I owe my life to his uncle the judge, and my success in life to him; and I should wish to be bound to both you and your daughter by the high esteem which links us with persons of rank and influence. I wish to leave the theatre and become a serious person.”

“As you are already, monsieur!” said the Presidente.

“Adorable!” returned Gaudissart, kissing the lady’s shriveled fingers.

At four o’clock that afternoon several people were gathered together at Berthier’s office; Fraisier, arch-concocter of the whole scheme, Tabareau, appearing on behalf of Schmucke, and Schmucke himself. Gaudissart had come with him. Fraisier had been careful to spread out the money on Berthier’s desk, and so dazzled was Schmucke by the sight of the six thousand-franc bank-notes for which he had asked, and six hundred francs for the first quarter’s allowance, that he paid no heed whatsoever to the reading of the document. Poor man, he was scarcely in full possession of his faculties, shaken as they had already been by so many shocks. Gaudissart had snatched him up on his return from the cemetery, where he had been talking with Pons, promising to join him soon--very soon. So Schmucke did not listen to the preamble in which it was set forth that Maitre Tabareau, bailiff, was acting as his proxy, and that the Presidente, in the interests of her daughter, was taking legal proceedings against him. Altogether, in that preamble the German played a sorry part, but he put his name to the document, and thereby admitted the truth of Fraisier’s abominable allegations; and so joyous was he over receiving the money for the Topinards, so glad to bestow wealth according to his little ideas upon the one creature who loved Pons, that he heard not a word of lawsuit nor compromise.

But in the middle of the reading a clerk came into the private office to speak to his employer. “There is a man here, sir, who wishes to speak to M. Schmucke,” said he.

The notary looked at Fraisier, and, taking his cue from him, shrugged his shoulders.

“Never disturb us when we are signing documents. Just ask his name--is it a man or a gentleman? Is he a creditor?”

The clerk went and returned. “He insists that he must speak to M. Schmucke.”

“His name?”

“His name is Topinard, he says.”

“I will go out to him. Sign without disturbing yourself,” said Gaudissart, addressing Schmucke. “Make an end of it; I will find out what he wants with us.”

Gaudissart understood Fraisier; both scented danger.

“Why are you here?” Gaudissart began. “So you have no mind to be cashier at the theatre? Discretion is a cashier’s first recommendation.”

“Sir--”

“Just mind your own business; you will never be anything if you meddle in other people’s affairs.”

“Sir, I cannot eat bread if every mouthful of it is to stick in my throat.... Monsieur Schmucke!--M. Schmucke!” he shouted aloud.

Schmucke came out at the sound of Topinard’s voice. He had just signed. He held the money in his hand.

“Thees ees for die liddle German maiden und for you,” he said.