File No. 113 by Emile Gaboriau (novels in english .TXT) 📖

her head, and forcing her to be his. He became frenzied at the idea of possessing her person, while her heart and soul would always be with Prosper.

Thus he swore that, before marrying, he would so cover Prosper with shame and ignominy that no honest person would speak to him. He had first thought of killing him, but, fearing that Madeleine would enshrine and worship his memory, he determined to disgrace him.

He imagined that there would be no difficulty in ruining the unfortunate young man. He soon found himself mistaken.

Though Prosper led a life of reckless dissipation, he preserved order in his disorder. If in a state of miserable entanglement, and obliged to resort to all sorts of make-shifts to escape his creditors, his caution prevented the world from knowing it.

Vainly did Raoul, with his pockets full of gold, try to tempt him to play high; every effort to hasten his ruin failed.

When he played he did not seem to care whether he lost or won; nothing aroused him from his cold indifference.

His friend Nina Gypsy was extravagant, but her devotion to Prosper restrained her from going beyond certain limits.

Raoul’s great intimacy with Prosper enabled him to fully understand the state of his mind; that he was trying to drown his disappointment in excitement, but had not given up all hope.

“You need not hope to beguile Prosper into committing any piece of folly,” said Raoul to his uncle; “his head is as cool as a usurer’s. He never goes beyond a certain degree of dissipation. What object he has in view I know not. Perhaps, when he has spent his last napoleon, he will blow his brains out; he certainly never will descend to any dishonorable act. As to tampering with the money-safe intrusted to his keeping–-”

“We must force him on,” replied Clameran, “lead him into extravagances, make Gypsy call on him for costly finery, lend him plenty of money.”

Raoul shook his head, as if convinced that his efforts would be vain.

“You don’t know Prosper, uncle: we can’t galvanize a dead man. Madeleine killed him the day she discarded him. He takes no interest in anything on the face of the earth.”

“We can wait and see.”

They did wait; and, to the great surprise of Mme. Fauvel, Raoul once more became an affectionate and dutiful son, as he had been during Clameran’s absence. From reckless extravagance he changed to great economy. Under pretext of saving money, he remained at Vesinet, although it was very uncomfortable and disagreeable there in the winter. He said he wished to expiate his sins in solitude. The truth was, that, by remaining in the country, he insured his liberty, and escaped his mother’s visits.

It was about this time that Mme. Fauvel, charmed with the improvement in Raoul, asked her husband to give him some employment.

M. Fauvel was delighted to please his wife, and at once offered Raoul the place of corresponding clerk with a salary of five hundred francs a month.

The appointment pleased Raoul; but, in obedience to Clameran’s command, he refused it, saying his vocation was not banking.

This refusal so provoked the banker, that he told Raoul, if he was so idle and lazy, not to call on him for money again, or expect him to do anything to assist him. Raoul seized this pretext for ostensibly ceasing his visits.

When he wanted to see his mother, he would come in the afternoon, when he knew that M. Fauvel would be from home; and he only came often enough to keep informed of what was going on in the household.

This sudden lull after so many storms appeared ominous to Madeleine. She was more certain that ever that the plot was now ripe, and would suddenly burst upon them, without warning. She did not impart her presentiment to her aunt, but prepared herself for the worst.

“What can they be doing?” Mme. Fauvel would say; “can they have ceased to persecute us?”

“Yes: what can they be doing?” Madeleine would murmur.

Louis and Raoul gave no signs of life, because, like expert hunters, they were silently hiding, and watching for a favorable opportunity of pouncing upon their victims.

Never losing sight of Prosper for a day, Raoul had exhausted every effort of his fertile mind to compromise his honor, to insnare him into some inextricable entanglement. But, as he had foreseen, the cashier’s indifference offered little hope of success.

Clameran began to grow impatient at this delay, and had fully determined to bring matters to a crisis himself, when one morning, about three o’clock, he was aroused by Raoul.

He knew that some event of great importance must have happened, to make his nephew come to his house at this hour of the morning.

“What is the matter?” he anxiously inquired.

“Perhaps nothing; perhaps everything. I have just left Prosper.”

“Well?”

“I had him, Mme. Gypsy, and three other friends to dine with me. After dinner, I made up a game of baccarat, but Prosper took no interest in it, although he was quite tipsy.”

“You must be drunk yourself to come here waking me up in the middle of the night, to hear this idle gabble,” said Louis angrily. “What the devil do you mean by it?”

“Now, don’t be in a hurry; wait until you hear the rest.”

“Morbleu! speak, then!”

“After the game was over, we went to supper; Prosper became intoxicated, and betrayed the secret name with which he closes the money-safe.”

At these words Clameran uttered a cry of triumph.

“What was the word?”

“The name of his friend.”

“Gypsy! Yes, that would be five letters.”

Louis was so excited that he jumped out of bed, slipped on his dressing-gown, and began to stride up and down the chamber.

“Now we have got him!” he said with vindictive satisfaction. “There’s no chance of escape for him now! Ah, the virtuous cashier won’t touch the money confided to him: so we must touch it for him. The disgrace will be just as great, no matter who opens the safe. We have the word; you know where the key is kept.”

“Yes; when M. Fauvel goes out he always leaves the key in the drawer of his secretary, in his chamber.”

“Very good. Go and get this key from Mme. Fauvel. If she does not give it up willingly, use force: so that you get it, that is the point; then open the safe, and take out every franc it contains. Ah, Master Bertomy, you shall pay dear for being loved by the woman whom I love!”

For five minutes Clameran indulged in such a tirade of abuse against Prosper, mingled with rhapsodies of love for Madeleine, that Raoul thought him almost out of his mind.

“Before crying victory,” he said, “you had better consider the drawbacks and difficulties. Prosper might change the word to-morrow.”

“Yes, he might; but it is not probable he will; he will forget what he said while drunk; besides, we can hasten matters.”

“That is not all. M. Fauvel has given orders that no large sum shall be kept in the safe over-night; before closing the bank everything is sent to the Bank of France.”

“A large sum will be kept there the night I choose.”

“You think so?”

“I think this: I have a hundred thousand crowns deposited with M. Fauvel: and if I desire the money to be paid over to me early some morning, directly the bank is opened, of course the money will be kept in the safe the previous night.”

“A splendid idea!” cried Raoul admiringly.

It was a good idea; and the plotters spent several hours in studying its strong and weak points.

Raoul feared that he would never be able to overcome Mme. Fauvel’s resistance. And, even if she yielded the key, would she not go directly and confess everything to her husband? She was fond of Prosper, and would hesitate a long time before sacrificing him.

But Louis felt no uneasiness on this score.

“One sacrifice necessitates another,” he said: “she has made too many to draw back at the last one. She sacrificed her adopted daughter; therefore she will sacrifice a young man, who is, after all, a comparative stranger to her.”

“But madame will never believe any harm of Prosper; she will always have faith in his honor; therefore—”

“You talk like an idiot, my verdant nephew!”

Before the conversation had ended, the plan seemed feasible. The scoundrels made all their arrangements, and fixed the day for committing the crime.

They selected the evening of the 7th of February, because Raoul knew that M. Fauvel would be at a bank-director’s dinner, and Madeleine was invited to a party on that evening.

Unless something unforeseen should occur, Raoul knew that he would find Mme. Fauvel alone at half-past eight o’clock.

“I will ask M. Fauvel this very day,” said Clameran, “to have my money on hand for Tuesday.”

“That is a very short notice, uncle,” objected Raoul. “You know there are certain forms to be gone through, and he can claim a longer time wherein to pay it over.”

“That is true, but our banker is proud of always being prepared to pay any amount of money, no matter how large; and if I say I am pressed, and would like to be accommodated on Tuesday, he will make a point of having it ready for me. Now, you must ask Prosper, as a personal favor to you, to have the money on hand at the opening of the bank.”

Raoul once more examined the situation, to discover if possible a grain of sand which might be converted into a mountain at the last moment.

“Prosper and Gypsy are to be at Vesinet this evening,” he said, “but I cannot ask them anything until I know the banker’s answer. As soon as you arrange matters with him, send me word by Manuel.”

“I can’t send Manuel, for an excellent reason; he has left me; but I can send another messenger.”

Louis spoke the truth; Manuel was gone. He had insisted on keeping Gaston’s old servant in his service, because he thought it imprudent to leave him at Oloron, where his gossiping might cause trouble.

He soon became annoyed by Manuel’s loyalty, who had shared the perils and good fortunes of an excellent master for many years; and determined to rid himself of this last link which constantly reminded him of Gaston. The evening before, he had persuaded Manuel to return to Arenys-de-mer, a little port of Catalonia, his native place; and Louis was looking for another servant.

After breakfasting together, they separated.

Clameran was so elated by the prospect of success, that he lost sight of the great crime intervening. Raoul was calm, but resolute. The shameful deed he was about to commit would give him riches, and release him from a hateful servitude. His one thought was liberty, as Louis’s was Madeleine.

Everything seemed to progress finely. The banker did not ask for the notice of time, but promised to pay the money at the specified hour. Prosper said he would have it ready early in the morning.

The certainty of success made Louis almost wild with joy. He counted the hours, and the minutes, which passed but too slowly.

“When this affair is ended,” he said to Raoul, “I will reform and be a model of virtue. No one will dare hint that I have ever indulged in any sins, great or small.”

But Raoul became more and more sad as the time approached. Reflection gradually betrayed the blackness of the contemplated crime.

Raoul was bold and determined in the pursuit of his own gratifications and wickedness; he could smile in the face of his best friend, while cheating him of his last napoleon at cards; and he could sleep well after