The Lesser Bourgeoisie - Honore de Balzac (speld decodable readers .TXT) 📗

that. Are you Pere Picot's counsel?"

 

"No, unfortunately," said Madame Lambert, "my master won't take any

counsel; he is so self-willed, so obstinate! But, my good monsieur,

what I came to ask is whether the family council is to meet."

 

"Of course," said Cerizet, "and not later than to-morrow."

 

"But monsieur, I hear those gentlemen of the Royal court said the

family had no rights--"

 

"Yes, that's so," said the clerk; "the lower court and the Royal court

have both, on the petition of the relatives, rejected their demand for

a commission."

 

"I should hope so!" said the woman; "to think of making him out a

lunatic! him so full of wisdom and learning!"

 

"But the relations don't mean to give up; they are going to try the

matter again under a new form, and ask for the appointment of a

judicial counsel. That's what the family council meets for to-morrow;

and I think, this time, my dear Madame Lambert, your old Picot will

find himself restrained. There are serious allegations, I can tell

you. It was all very well to take the eggs, but to pluck the hen was

another thing."

 

"Is it possible that monsieur can suppose--" began the devote,

clasping her hands under her chin.

 

"I suppose nothing," said Cerizet; "I am not the judge of this affair.

But the relations declare that you have pocketed considerable sums,

and made investments about which they demand inquiry."

 

"Oh! heavens!" said the woman, casting up her eyes; "they can inquire;

I am poor; I have not a deed, nor a note, nor a share; not the

slightest security of any kind in my possession."

 

"I dare say not," said Cerizet, glancing at la Peyrade out of the

corner of his eye; "but there are always friends to take care of such

things. However, that is none of my business; every one must settle

his own affairs in his own way. Now, then, say what you have to say,

distinctly."

 

"I came, monsieur," she replied, "to implore you, monsieur, to implore

Monsieur the judge's clerk, to speak in our favor to Monsieur the

justice-of-peace. Monsieur the vicar of Saint-Jacques is also to speak

to him. That poor Monsieur Picot!" she went on, weeping, "they'll kill

him if they continue to worry him in this way."

 

"I sha'n't conceal from you," said Cerizet, "that the justice-of-peace

is very ill-disposed to your cause. You must have seen that the other

day, when he refused to receive you. As for Monsieur Dutocq and

myself, our assistance won't help you much; and besides, my good

woman, you are too close-mouthed."

 

"Monsieur asked me if I had laid by a few little savings; and I

couldn't tell him that I had, be--because they have gone to keep the

h--house of that poor Monsieur Pi--i--cot; and now they accuse me of

r--robbing him!"

 

Madame Lambert sobbed.

 

"My opinion is," said Cerizet, "that you are making yourself out much

poorer than you are; and if friend Peyrade here, who seems to be more

in your confidence, hadn't his tongue tied by the rules of his

profession--"

 

"I!" said la Peyrade, hastily, "I don't know anything of madame's

affairs. She asked me to draw up a petition on a matter in which there

was nothing judicial or financial."

 

"Ah! that's it, is it?" said Cerizet. "Madame had doubtless gone to

see you about this petition the day Dutocq met her at your office, the

morning after our dinner at the Rocher de Cancale--when you were such

a Roman, you know."

 

Then, without seeming to attach any importance to the reminiscence, he

added:--

 

"Well, my good Madame Lambert, I'll ask my patron to speak to the

justice-of-peace, and, if I get a chance, I'll speak to him myself;

but, I repeat it, he is very much prejudiced against you."

 

Madame Lambert retired with many curtseys and protestations of

gratitude. When she was fairly gone la Peyrade remarked:--

 

"You don't seem to believe that that woman came to me about a

petition; and yet nothing was ever truer. She is thought a saint in

the street she lives in, and that old man they accuse her of robbing

is actually kept alive by her devotion, so I'm told. Consequently, the

neighbors have put it into the good woman's head to apply for the

Montyon prize; and it was for the purpose of putting her claims in

legal shape that she applied to me."

 

"Dear! dear! the Montyon prize!" cried Cerizet; "well, that's an idea!

My good fellow, we ought to have cultivated it before,--I, especially,

as banker of the poor, and you, their advocate. As for this client of

yours, it is lucky for her Monsieur Picot's relatives are not members

of the French academy; it is in the correctional police-court, sixth

chamber, where they mean to give her the reward of virtue. However, to

come back to what we were talking about. I tell you that after all

your tergiversations you had better settle down peaceably; and I

advise you, as your countess did, to go and see du Portail."

 

"Who and what is he?" asked la Peyrade.

 

"He is a little old man," replied Cerizet, "as shrewd as a weasel. He

gives me the idea of having dealings with the devil. Go and see him!

Sight, as they say, costs nothing."

 

"Yes," said la Peyrade, "perhaps I will; but, first of all, I want you

to find out for me about this Comtesse de Godollo."

 

"What do you care about her? She is nothing but a supernumerary, that

countess."

 

"I have my reasons," said la Peyrade; "you can certainly get some

information about her in three days; I'll come and see you then."

 

"My good fellow," said Cerizet, "you seem to me to be amusing yourself

with things that don't pay; you haven't fallen in love with that

go-between, have you?"

 

"Plague take him!" thought la Peyrade; "he spies everything; there's

no hiding anything from him! No," he said, aloud, "I am not in love;

on the contrary, I am very cautious. I must admit that this marriage

with a crazy girl doesn't attract me, and before I go a step into it I

want to know where I put my feet. These crooked proceedings are not

reassuring, and as so many influences are being brought to bear, I

choose to control one by another. Therefore don't play sly, but give

me all the information you get into your pouch about Madame la

Comtesse Torna de Godollo. I warn you I know enough to test the

veracity of your report; and if I see you are trying to overreach me

I'll break off short with your du Portail."

 

"Trying to overreach you, monseigneur!" replied Cerizet, in the tone

and manner of Frederic Lemaitre. "Who would dare attempt it?"

 

As he pronounced those words in a slightly mocking tone, Dutocq

appeared, accompanied by his little clerk.

 

"Bless me!" he exclaimed, seeing la Peyrade and Cerizet together;

"here's the trinity reconstituted! but the object of the alliance, the

'casus foederis,' has floated off. What have you done to that good

Brigitte, la Peyrade? She is after your blood."

 

"What about Thuillier?" asked la Peyrade.

 

Moliere was reversed; here was Tartuffe inquiring for Orgon.

 

"Thuillier began by not being very hostile to you; but it now seems

that the seizure business has taken a good turn, and having less need

of you he is getting drawn into his sister's waters; and if the

tendency continues, I haven't a doubt that he'll soon come to think

you deserving of hanging."

 

"Well, I'm out of it all," said la Peyrade, "and if anybody ever

catches me in such a mess again!--Well, adieu, my friends," he added.

"And you, Cerizet, as to what we were speaking about, activity,

safety, and discretion!"

 

When la Peyrade reached the courtyard of the municipal building, he

was accosted by Madame Lambert, who was lying in wait for him.

 

"Monsieur wouldn't believe, I am sure," she said, in a deprecating

tone, "the villainous things that Monsieur Cerizet said about me;

monsieur knows it was the little property I received from my uncle in

England that I placed in his hands."

 

"Yes, yes," said la Peyrade, "but you must understand that with all

these rumors set about by your master's relatives the prize of virtue

is desperately endangered."

 

"If it is God's will that I am not to have it--"

 

"You ought also to understand how important it is for your interests

to keep secret the other service which I did for you. At the first

appearance of any indiscretion on your part that money, as I told you,

will be peremptorily returned to you."

 

"Oh! monsieur may be easy about that."

 

"Very well; then good-bye to you, my dear," said la Peyrade, in a

friendly tone.

 

As he turned to leave her, a nasal voice was heard from a window on

the staircase.

 

"Madame Lambert!" cried Cerizet, who, suspecting the colloquy, had

gone to the staircase window to make sure of it. "Madame Lambert!

Monsieur Dutocq has returned; you may come up and see him, if you

like."

 

Impossible for la Peyrade to prevent the conference, although he knew

the secret of that twenty-five thousand francs ran the greatest

danger.

 

"Certainly," he said to himself as he walked away, "I'm in a run of

ill-luck; and I don't know where it will end."

 

In Brigitte's nature there was such an all-devouring instinct of

domination, that it was without regret, and, we may even say, with a

sort of secret joy that she saw the disappearance of Madame de

Godollo. That woman, she felt, had a crushing superiority over her;

and this, while it had given a higher order to the Thuillier

establishment, made her ill at ease. When therefore the separation

took place, which was done, let us here say, on good terms, and under

fair and honorable pretexts, Mademoiselle Thuillier breathed more

freely. She felt like those kings long swayed by imperious and

necessary ministers, who celebrate within their hearts the day when

death delivers them from a master whose services and rival influence

they impatiently endured.

 

Thuillier was not far from having the same sentiment about la Peyrade.

But Madame de Godollo was only the elegance, whereas la Peyrade was

the utility of the house they had now simultaneously abandoned; and

after the lapse of a few days, a terrible need of Theodose made itself

felt in the literary and political existence of his dear, good friend.

The municipal councillor found himself suddenly appointed to draft an

important report. He was unable to decline the task, saddled as he was

with the reputation, derived from his pamphlet, of being a man of

letters and an able writer; therefore, in presence of the perilous

honor conferred upon him by his colleagues of the general Council, he

sat down terrified by his solitude and his insufficiency.

 

In vain did he lock himself into his study, gorge himself with black

coffee, mend innumerable pens, and write a score of times at the head

of his paper (which he was careful to cut of the exact dimensions as

that used by la Peyrade) the solemn words: "Report to the Members of

the Municipal Council of the City of Paris," followed, on a line by

itself, by a magnificent _Messieurs_--nothing came of it! He was fain

to issue furious from his study, complaining of the horrible household

racket which "cut the thread of his ideas"; though really no greater

noise than the closing of a door or the opening of a closet or the

moving of a chair had made itself heard. All this, however, did not

help the advancement of the work, which remained, as before--simply

begun.

 

Most fortunately, it happened that Rabourdin, wanting to make some

change in his apartment, came, as was proper, to submit his plan to

the owner of the house. Thuillier granted cordially the request that

was made to him, and then discoursed to his tenant about the report

with which he was charged,--being desirous, he said, to obtain his

ideas on the subject.

 

Rabourdin, to whom no administrative question was foreign, very

readily threw upon the subject a number of very clear and lucid ideas.

He was one of those men to whom the quality of the intellect to which

they address themselves is more or less indifferent; a fool, or a man

of talent who will listen to them, serves equally well to think aloud

to, and they are, as a stimulant, about the same thing. After

Rabourdin had said his say, he observed that Thuillier had not

understood him; but he had listened to himself with pleasure, and he

was, moreover, grateful for the attention, obtuse as it was, of his

hearer, and also for the kindliness of the landlord in receiving his

request.

 

"I must have among my papers," he said as he went away, "something on

this subject; I will look it up and send it to you."

 

Accordingly, that same evening Thuillier received a voluminous

manuscript; and he spent the entire night in delving into that

precious repository of ideas, from which he extracted enough to make a

really