The Slaves of Paris - Émile Gaboriau (macos ebook reader .txt) 📗

inquiry made as to a certain window frame that has been sawed through, and suspicion will fall upon Toto Chupin, who will have been seen lurking about the spot. It will be proved that he purchased a saw, and that he changed just before a note for one thousand francs; he will be found hiding in a garret in the Hotel de Perou.”

The doctor looked aghast. “Are you mad?” cried he. “Toto will accuse you.”

“Very likely, but by that time poor old Tantaine will be dead and buried. Then Mascarin will disappear, our faithful Beaumarchef will be in the United States, and we can afford to laugh at the police.”

“It seems like a success,” said the doctor, “but push on for mercy’s sake; all these delays and fluctuations will make me seriously ill.”

The two worthy associates held this conversation in a doorway, anxious to be sure that Flavia had kept her promise. In a brief space of time they saw her come out of the house and move in the direction of her father’s bank.

“Now,” said Tantaine, “I can go in peace, doctor; farewell for the present;” and without waiting for a reply he was walking rapidly away when he was stopped by Beaumarchef, who came up breathless and barred his passage.

“I was looking for you,” cried he; “the Marquis de Croisenois is in the office and is swearing at me like anything.”

“Go back to the office and tell the Marquis that the master will soon be with him;” and thus speaking, Tantaine disappeared down a court by the side of Martin Rigal’s house.

The Marquis was striding up and down the office, every now and then discharging a rumbling cannonade of oaths. “Fine business people,” remarked he, “to make an appointment and then not to keep it!” He checked himself; for the door of the inner office slowly opened, and Mascarin appeared on the threshold. “Punctuality,” said he, “does not consist in coming before, but at the time appointed.”

The Marquis was cowed at once, and followed Mascarin into the sanctum and watched him with curious gaze as the redoubtable head of the association seemed to be searching for something among the papers on his desk. When Mascarin had found what he was in search of, he turned and addressed the Marquis.

“I desired to see you,” said he, “with reference to the great financial enterprise which you are to launch almost immediately.”

“Yes; I understand that we must discuss it, fully understand it, and feel our way.”

Mascarin uttered a contemptuous whistle.

“Do you think,” asked he, “that I am the kind of person to stand and wait while you feel your way? Because if you do, the sooner you undeceive yourself the better. Things that I take in hand are carried out like a flash of lightning. You have been playing while I and Catenac have been working, and nothing remains to be done but to act.”

“Act! What do you mean?”

“I mean that offices have been taken in the Rue Vivienne, that the articles of association have been drawn up, the directors chosen, and the Company registered. The printer brought the prospectus here yesterday; you can begin sending them out tomorrow.”

“But⁠—”

“Read it for yourself,” said Mascarin, handing a printed paper to him. “Read, and then, perhaps, you will be convinced.”

Croisenois, in a dazed sort of manner, accepted the paper and read it aloud.

Copper Mines of Tafila, Algeria.

Chairman: The Marquis Henri de Croisenois.

Capital: Four Million Francs.

This company does not appeal to that rash class of speculators who are willing to incur great risks for the sake of obtaining for a time heavy dividends.

The shareholders in the Tafila Copper Mining Company, Limited, must not look for a dividend of more than six, or at the utmost seven, percent.

“Well,” interrupted Mascarin, “what do you think of this for a beginning?”

“It seems fair enough,” answered De Croisenois, “but suppose others than those whose names you have in your black list take shares, what do you say we are to do then?”

“We should simply decline to allot shares to them, that is all. See the Article XX in the Articles of Association. ‘The Board of Directors may decline to allot shares to applicants without giving any reason for so doing.’ ”

“And suppose,” continued the Marquis, “that one of our own people dispose of his share, may we not find our new shareholder a thorn in our side?”

“Article XXI. ‘No transfer of stock is valid, unless passed by the Board of Directors, and recorded in the books of the Company,’ ” read out Mascarin.

“And how will the game be brought to a conclusion?”

“Easily enough. You will advertise one morning that two-thirds of the capital having been unsuccessfully sunk in the enterprise, you are compelled to apply for a winding-up of the Company under Article XVII. Six months afterwards you will announce that the liquidation of the Company has, after all expenses have been paid, left no balance whatsoever. Then you wash your hands of the whole thing, and the matter is at an end.”

Croisenois felt that he had no ground to stand upon, but he ventured on one more objection.

“It seems rather a strange thing to launch this enterprise at the present moment. May it not interfere with my marriage prospects? and may not the Count de Mussidan decline to give me his daughter and risk her dowry in this manner? One moment, I⁠—”

The agent sneered and cut short the tergiversations of the Marquis.

“You mean, I suppose,” said he, “that when once you are safely married and have received Mademoiselle Sabine’s dowry, you will take leave of us. Not so, my dear young friend; and if this is your idea, put it aside, for it is utter nonsense. I should hold you then as I do now.”

The Marquis saw that any further struggle would be of no avail, and gave in.

That evening, when M. Martin Rigal emerged from his private office, his daughter Flavia was more than usually demonstrative in her tokens of affection. “How fondly I love you,