“You gave him all!” cried the poor mother, terrified. “What will you say to your father on New Year’s Day when he asks to see your gold?”
Eugenie’s eyes grew fixed3, and the two women lived through mortal terror for more than half the morning. They were so troubled in mind that they missed high Mass, and only went to the military service. In three days the year 1819 would come to an end. In three days a terrible drama would begin, a bourgeois4 tragedy, without poison, or dagger5, or the spilling of blood; but—as regards the actors in it—more cruel than all the fabled6 horrors in the family of the Atrides.
“What will become of us?” said Madame Grandet to her daughter, letting her knitting fall upon her knees.
The poor mother had gone through such anxiety for the past two months that the woollen sleeves which she needed for the coming winter were not yet finished. This domestic fact, insignificant7 as it seems, bore sad results. For want of those sleeves, a chill seized her in the midst of a sweat caused by a terrible explosion of anger on the part of her husband.
“I have been thinking, my poor child, that if you had confided9 your secret to me we should have had time to write to Monsieur des Grassins in Paris. He might have sent us gold pieces like yours; though Grandet knows them all, perhaps—”
“Where could we have got the money?”
“I would have pledged my own property. Besides, Monsieur des Grassins would have—”
“It is too late,” said Eugenie in a broken, hollow voice. “To-morrow morning we must go and wish him a happy New Year in his chamber11.”
“But, my daughter, why should I not consult the Cruchots?”
“No, no; it would be delivering me up to them, and putting ourselves in their power. Besides, I have chosen my course. I have done right, I repent12 of nothing. God will protect me. His will be done! Ah! mother, if you had read his letter, you, too, would have thought only of him.”
The next morning, January 1, 1820, the horrible fear to which mother and daughter were a prey13 suggested to their minds a natural excuse by which to escape the solemn entrance into Grandet’s chamber. The winter of 1819-1820 was one of the coldest of that epoch14. The snow encumbered15 the roofs.
Madame Grandet called to her husband as soon as she heard him stirring in his chamber, and said,—
“Grandet, will you let Nanon light a fire here for me? The cold is so sharp that I am freezing under the bedclothes. At my age I need some comforts. Besides,” she added, after a slight pause, “Eugenie shall come and dress here; the poor child might get an illness from dressing in her cold room in such weather. Then we will go and wish you a happy New Year beside the fire in the hall.”
“Ta, ta, ta, ta, what a tongue! a pretty way to begin the new year, Madame Grandet! You never talked so much before; but you haven’t been sopping16 your bread in wine, I know that.”
There was a moment’s silence.
“Well,” resumed the goodman, who no doubt had some reason of his own for agreeing to his wife’s request, “I’ll do what you ask, Madame Grandet. You are a good woman, and I don’t want any harm to happen to you at your time of life,—though as a general thing the Bertellieres are as sound as a roach. Hein! isn’t that so?” he added after a pause. “Well, I forgive them; we got their property in the end.” And he coughed.
“You are very gay this morning, monsieur,” said the poor woman gravely.
“I’m always gay,—
“‘Gai, gai, gai, le tonnelier,
Raccommodez votre cuvier!’”
he answered, entering his wife’s room fully17 dressed. “Yes, on my word, it is cold enough to freeze you solid. We shall have a fine breakfast, wife. Des Grassins has sent me a pate18-de-foie-gras truffled! I am going now to get it at the coach-office. There’ll be a double napoleon for Eugenie in the package,” he whispered in Madame Grandet’s ear. “I have no gold left, wife. I had a few stray pieces—I don’t mind telling you that—but I had to let them go in business.”
Then, by way of celebrating the new year, he kissed her on the forehead.
“Eugenie,” cried the mother, when Grandet was fairly gone, “I don’t know which side of the bed your father got out of, but he is good-tempered this morning. Perhaps we shall come out safe after all?”
“What’s happened to the master?” said Nanon, entering her mistress’s room to light the fire. “First place, he said, ‘Good-morning; happy New Year, you big fool! Go and light my wife’s fire, she’s cold’; and then, didn’t I feel silly when he held out his hand and gave me a six-franc piece, which isn’t worn one bit? Just look at it, madame! Oh, the kind man! He is a good man, that’s a fact. There are some people who the older they get the harder they grow; but he,—why he’s getting soft and improving with time, like your ratafia! He is a good, good man—”
The secret of Grandet’s joy lay in the complete success of his speculation19. Monsieur des Grassins, after deducting20 the amount which the old cooper owed him for the discount on a hundred and fifty thousand francs in Dutch notes, and for the surplus which he had advanced to make up the sum required for the investment in the Funds which was to produce a hundred thousand francs a year, had now sent him, by the diligence, thirty thousand francs in silver coin, the remainder of his first half-year’s interest, informing him at the same time that the Funds had already gone up in value. They were then quoted at eighty-nine; the shrewdest capitalists bought in, towards the last of January, at ninety-three. Grandet had thus gained in two months twelve per cent on his capital; he had simplified his accounts, and would in future receive fifty thousand francs interest every six months, without incurring21 any taxes or costs for repairs. He understood at last what it was to invest money in the public securities,—a system for which provincials22 have always shown a marked repugnance,—and at the end of five years he found himself master of a capital of six millions, which increased without much effort of his own, and which, joined to the value and proceeds of his territorial23 possessions, gave him a fortune that was absolutely colossal24. The six francs bestowed25 on Nanon were perhaps the reward of some great service which the poor servant had rendered to her master unawares.
“Oh! oh! where’s Pere Grandet going? He has been scurrying26 about since sunrise as if to a fire,” said the tradespeople to each other as they opened their shops for the day.
When they saw him coming back from the wharf27, followed by a porter from the coach-office wheeling a barrow which was laden28 with sacks, they all had their comments to make:—
“Water flows to the river; the old fellow was running after his gold,” said one.
“He gets it from Paris and Froidfond and Holland,” said another.
“He’ll end by buying up Saumur,” cried a third.
“He doesn’t mind the cold, he’s so wrapped up in his gains,” said a wife to her husband.
“Hey! hey! Monsieur Grandet, if that’s too heavy for you,” said a cloth-dealer, his nearest neighbor, “I’ll take it off your hands.”
“Heavy?” said the cooper, “I should think so; it’s all sous!”
“Silver sous,” said the porter in a low voice.
“If you want me to take care of you, keep your tongue between your teeth,” said the goodman to the porter as they reached the door.
“The old fox! I thought he was deaf; seems he can hear fast enough in frosty weather.”
“Here’s twenty sous for your New Year, and mum!” said Grandet. “Be off with you! Nanon shall take back your barrow. Nanon, are the linnets at church?”
“Yes, monsieur.”
“Then lend a hand! go to work!” he cried, piling the sacks upon her. In a few moments all were carried up to his inner room, where he shut himself in with them. “When breakfast is ready, knock on the wall,” he said as he disappeared. “Take the barrow back to the coach-office.”
The family did not breakfast that day until ten o’clock.
“Your father will not ask to see your gold downstairs,” said Madame Grandet as they got back from Mass. “You must pretend to be very chilly29. We may have time to replace the treasure before your fete-day.”
Grandet came down the staircase thinking of his splendid speculation in government securities, and wondering how he could metamorphose his Parisian silver into solid gold; he was making up his mind to invest in this way everything he could lay hands on until the Funds should reach a par8 value. Fatal reverie for Eugenie! As soon as he came in, the two women wished him a happy New Year,—his daughter by putting her arms round his neck and caressing30 him; Madame Grandet gravely and with dignity.
“Ha! ha! my child,” he said, kissing his daughter on both cheeks. “I work for you, don’t you see? I think of your happiness. Must have money to be happy. Without money there’s not a particle of happiness. Here! there’s a new napoleon for you. I sent to Paris for it. On my word of honor, it’s all the gold I have; you are the only one that has got any gold. I want to see your gold, little one.”
“Oh! it is too cold; let us have breakfast,” answered Eugenie.
“Well, after breakfast, then; it will help the digestion31. That fat des Grassins sent me the pate. Eat as much as you like, my children, it costs nothing. Des Grassins is getting along very well. I am satisfied with him. The old fish is doing Charles a good service, and gratis32 too. He is making a very good settlement of that poor deceased Grandet’s business. Hoo! hoo!” he muttered, with his mouth full, after a pause, “how good it is! Eat some, wife; that will feed you for at least two days.”
“I am not hungry. I am very poorly; you know that.”
“Ah, bah! you can stuff yourself as full as you please without danger, you’re a Bertelliere; they are all hearty33. You are a bit yellow, that’s true; but I like yellow, myself.”
The expectation of ignominious34 and public death is perhaps less horrible to a condemned35 criminal than the anticipation36 of what was coming after breakfast to Madame Grandet and Eugenie. The more gleefully the old man talked and ate, the more their hearts shrank within them. The daughter, however, had an inward prop10 at this crisis,—she gathered strength through love.
“For him! for him!” she cried within her, “I would die a thousand deaths.”
At this thought, she shot a glance at her mother which flamed with courage.
“Clear away,” said Grandet to Nanon when, about eleven o’clock, breakfast was over, “but leave the table. We can spread your little treasure upon it,” he said, looking at Eugenie. “Little? Faith! no; it isn’t little. You possess, in actual value, five thousand nine hundred and fifty-nine francs and the forty I gave you just now. That makes six thousand francs, less one. Well, now see here, little one! I’ll give you that one franc to make up the round number. Hey! what are you listening for, Nanon? Mind your own business; go and do your work.”
Nanon disappeared.
“Now listen, Eugenie; you must give me back your gold. You won’t refuse your father, my little girl, hein?”
The two women were dumb.
“I have no gold myself. I had some, but it is all gone. I’ll give you in return six thousand francs in livres, and you are to put them just where I tell you. You mustn’t think anything more about your ‘dozen.’ When I marry you (which will be soon) I shall get you a husband who can give you the finest ‘dozen’ ever seen in the provinces. Now attend to me, little girl. There’s a fine chance for you; you can put your six thousand francs into government funds, and you will receive every six months nearly two hundred francs interest, without taxes, or repairs, or frost, or hail, or floods, or anything else to swallow up the money. Perhaps you don’t like to part with your gold, hey, my girl? Never mind, bring it to me all the same. I’ll get you some more like it,—like those Dutch coins and the portugaises, the rupees of Mogul, and the genovines,—I’ll give you some more on your fete-days, and in three years you’ll have got back half your little treasure. What’s that you say? Look up, now. Come, go and get it, the precious metal. You ought to kiss me on the eyelids37 for telling you the secrets and the mysteries of the life and death of money. Yes, silver and gold live and swarm38 like men; they come, and go, and sweat, and multiply—”
Eugenie rose; but after making a few steps towards the door she turned abruptly39, looked her father in the face, and said,—
“I have not got my gold.”
“You have not got your gold!” cried Grandet, starting up
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