File No. 113 by Emile Gaboriau (ebook reader browser TXT) 📖

“I told you to keep quiet, and follow my directions.”

“But to do this would imply that I have perfect confidence in you, my dear uncle,” said Raoul, sneeringly.

“And why should you not? What reasons for distrust have you after all that I have done for you? Who went to London, and rescued you from a state of privation and ignominy? I did. Who gave you a name and position when you had neither? I did. And who is working now to maintain your present life of ease, and insure you a splendid future? I am. And how do you repay me?”

“Superb, magnificent, inimitable!” said Raoul, with mocking derision. “But, while on the subject, why don’t you prove that you have sacrificed yourself for my sake? You did not need me as a tool for carrying out plans for your own benefit; did you? oh no, not at all! Dear, kind, generous, disinterested uncle! You ought to have the Montyon prize; I think I must recommend you as the most deserving person I have ever met!”

Clameran was so angry at these jeering words that he feared to trust himself to speak.

“Now, my good uncle,” continued Raoul more seriously, “we had better end this child’s play, and come to a clear understanding. I follow you here, because I thoroughly understand your character, and have just as much confidence in you as you deserve, and not a particle more. If it were for your advantage to ruin me, you would not hesitate one instant. If danger threatened us, you would fly alone, and leave your dutiful nephew to make his escape the best way he could. Oh! don’t look shocked, and pretend to deny it; your conduct is perfectly natural, and in your place I would act the same way. Only remember this, that I am not a man to be trifled with. Now let us cease these unnecessary recriminations, and come to the point: what is your present plan?”

Louis saw that his accomplice was too shrewd to be deceived, and that the safest course was to trust all to him, and to pretend that he had intended doing so all along.

Without any show of anger, he briefly and clearly related all that had occurred at his brother’s.

He told the truth about everything except the amount of his brother’s fortune, the importance of which he lessened as much as possible.

“Well,” said Raoul, when the report was ended, “we are in a nice fix. And do you expect to get out of it?”

“Yes, if you don’t betray me.”

“I wish you to understand, marquis, that I have never betrayed anyone yet; don’t judge me by yourself, I beg. What steps will you take to get free of this entanglement?”

“I don’t know; but something will turn up. Oh, don’t be alarmed; I’ll find some means of escape: so you can return home with your mind at rest. You run no risk in Paris, and ‘tis the best place for you. I will stay here to watch Gaston.”

Raoul reflected for some moments, and then said:

“Are you sure I am not in danger at Paris?”

“What are you afraid of? We have Mme. Fauvel so completely in our power that she would not dare speak a word against you; even if she knew the whole truth, what no one but you and I know, she would not open her lips, but be only too glad to hush up matters so as to escape punishment for her fault from her deceived husband and a censuring world.”

“I know we have a secure hold on her,” said Raoul. “I am not afraid of her giving any trouble.”

“Who, then?”

“An enemy of your own making, my respected uncle; a most implacable enemy—Madeleine.”

“Fiddlesticks!” replied Clameran, disdainfully.

“It is very well for you to treat her with contempt,” said Raoul, gravely; “but I can tell you, you are much mistaken in your estimate of her character. I have studied her lately, and see that she is devoted to her aunt, and ready to make any sacrifice to insure her happiness. But she has no idea of doing anything blindly, of throwing herself away if she can avoid it. She has promised to marry you. Prosper is broken-hearted at being discarded, it is true; but he has not given up hope. You imagine her to be weak and yielding, easily frightened? It’s a great mistake. She is self-reliant and fearless. More than that, she is in love, my good uncle; and a woman will defend her lover as a tigress defends her young. She will fight to the bitter end before marrying anyone save Prosper.”

“She is worth five hundred thousand francs.”

“So she is; and at five per cent we would each have an income of twelve thousand five hundred francs. But, for all that, you had better take my advice, and give up Madeleine.”

“Never; I swear by Heaven!” exclaimed Clameran. “Rich or poor, she shall be mine! I first wanted her money, but now I want her; I love her for herself, Raoul!”

Raoul seemed to be amazed at this declaration of his uncle.

He raised his hands, and started back with astonishment.

“Is it possible,” he said, “that you are in love with Madeleine?—you!”

“Yes,” replied Louis, sullenly. “Is there anything so very extraordinary in it?”

“Oh, no, certainly not! only this sentimental view of the matter explains your strange behavior. Alas, you love Madeleine! Then, my venerable uncle, we might as well surrender at once.”

“Why so?”

“Because you know the axiom, ‘When the heart is interested the head is lost.’ Generals in love always lose their battles. The day is not far off when your infatuation of Madeleine will make you sell us both for a smile. And, mark my words, she is shrewd, and watching us as only an enemy can watch.”

With a forced laugh Clameran interrupted his nephew.

“Just see how you fire up for no cause,” he said; “you must dislike the charming Madeleine very much, if you abuse her in this way.”

“She will prove to be our ruin: that is all.”

“You might as well be frank, and say you are in love with her yourself.”

“I am only in love with her money,” replied Raoul, with an angry frown.

“Then what are you complaining of? I shall give you half her fortune. You will have the money without being troubled with the wife; the profit without the burden.”

“I am not over fifty years old,” said Raoul conceitedly. “I can appreciate a pretty woman better than you.”

“Enough of that,” interrupted Louis angrily. “The day I relieved your pressing wants, and brought you to Paris, you promised to follow my directions, to help me carry out my plan; did you not?”