Other People's Money by Emile Gaboriau (superbooks4u txt) 📖

us.  He found among my father’s papers receipted bills for a number of costly articles, which could only have been intended for a woman.”

M. de Tregars looked perplexed.

“And does any one know who this woman is?” he asked.

“Whoever she may be, I admit that she may have cost M. Favoral considerable sums.  But can she have cost him twelve millions?”

“Precisely the remark which M. Chapelain made.”

“And which every sensible man must also make.  I know very well that to conceal for years a considerable deficit is a costly operation, requiring purchases and sales, the handling and shifting of funds, all of which is ruinous in the extreme.  But, on the other hand, M. Favoral was making money, a great deal of money.  He was rich:  he was supposed to be worth millions.  Otherwise, Costeclar would never have asked your hand.”

“M.  Chapelain pretends that at a certain time my father had at least fifty thousand francs a year.”

“It’s bewildering.”

For two or three minutes M. de Tregars remained silent, reviewing in his mind every imaginable eventuality, and then,

“But no matter,” he resumed.  “As soon as I heard this morning the amount of the deficit, doubts came to my mind.  And it is for that reason, dear friend, that I was so anxious to see you and speak to you.  It would be necessary for me to know exactly what occurred here last night.”

Rapidly, but without omitting a single useful detail, Mlle. Gilberte narrated the scenes of the previous night—the sudden appearance of M. de Thaller, the arrival of the commissary of police, M. Favoral’s escape, thanks to Maxence’s presence of mind.  Every one of her father’s words had remained present to her mind; and it was almost literally that she repeated his strange speeches to his indignant friends, and his incoherent remarks at the moment of flight, when, whilst acknowledging his fault, he said that he was not as guilty as they thought; that, at any rate, he was not alone guilty; and that he had been shamefully sacrificed.  When she had finished,

“That’s exactly what I thought,” said M. de Tregars.

“What?”

“M.  Favoral accepted a role in one of those terrible financial dramas which ruin a thousand poor dupes to the benefit of two or three clever rascals.  Your father wanted to be rich:  he needed money to carry on his intrigues.  He allowed himself to be tempted.  But whilst he believed himself one of the managers, called upon to divide the receipts, he was but a scene-shifter with a stated salary.  The moment of this denouement having come, his so-called partners disappeared through a trap-door with the cash, leaving him alone, as they say, to face the music.”

“If that’s the case,” replied the young girl, “why didn’t my father speak?”

“What was he to say?”

“Name his accomplices.”

“And suppose he had no proofs of their complicity to offer?  He was the cashier of the Mutual Credit; and it is from his cash that the millions are gone.”

Mlle. Gilberte’s conjectures had run far ahead of that sentence.  Looking straight at Marius,

“Then,” she said, “you believe, as M. Chapelain does, that M. de Thaller—”

“Ah!  M. Chapelain thinks—”

“That the manager of the Mutual Credit must have known the fact of the frauds.”

“And that he had his share of them?”

“A larger share than his cashier, yes.”

A singular smile curled M. de Tregars’ lips.  “Quite possible,” he replied:  “that’s quite possible.”

For the past few moments Mlle. Gilberte’s embarrassment was quite evident in her look.  At last, overcoming her hesitation,

“Pardon me,” said she, “I had imagined that M. de Thaller was one of those men whom you wished to strike; and I had indulged in the hope, that, whilst having justice done to your father, you were thinking, perhaps, of avenging mine.”

M. de Tregars stood up, as if moved by a spring.  “Well, yes!” he exclaimed.  “Yes, you have correctly guessed.  But how can we obtain this double result?  A single misstep at this moment might lose all.  Ah, if I only knew your father’s real situation; if I could only see him and speak to him!  In one word he might, perhaps, place in my hands a sure weapon,—the weapon that I have as yet been unable to find.”

“Unfortunately,” replied Mlle. Gilberte with a gesture of despair, “we are without news of my father; and he even refused to tell us where he expected to take refuge.”

“But he will write, perhaps.  Besides, we might look for him, quietly, so as not to excite the suspicions of the police; and if your brother Maxence was only willing to help me—”

“Alas!  I fear that Maxence may have other cares.  He insisted upon going out this morning, in spite of mother’s request to the contrary.”

But Marius stopped her, and, in the tone of a man who knows much more than he is willing to say,—“Do not calumniate Maxence,” he said:  “it is through him, perhaps, that we will receive the help that we need.”

Eleven o’clock struck.  Mlle. Gilberte started.

“Dear me!” she exclaimed, “mother will be home directly.”

M. de Tregars might as well have waited for her.  Henceforth he had nothing to conceal.  Yet, after duly deliberating with the young girl, they decided that he should withdraw, and that he would send M. de Villegre to declare his intentions.  He then left, and, five minutes later, Mme. Favoral and M. Chapelain appeared.

The ex-attorney was furious; and he threw the package of bank-notes upon the table with a movement of rage.

“In order to return them to M. de Thaller,” he exclaimed, “it was at least necessary to see him.  But the gentleman is invisible; keeps himself under lock and key, guarded by a perfect cloud of servants in livery.”

Meantime, Mme. Favoral had approached her daughter.

“Your brother?” she asked in a whisper.

“He has not yet come home.”

“Dear me!” sighed the poor mother:  “at such a time he forsakes us, and for whose sake?”

XXV

Mme. Favoral, usually so indulgent, was too severe this time; and it was very unjustly that she accused her son.  She forgot, and what mother does not forget, that he was twenty-five years of age, that he was a man, and that, outside of the family and of herself, he must have his own interests and his passions, his affections and his duties.  Because he happened to leave the house for a few hours, Maxence