17The Marquis de Croisenois was never punctual. He had received a noteasking him to call on Mascarin at eleven o'clock, and twelve hadstruck some time before he made his appearance. Faultlessly gloved,his glass firmly fixed in his eye, and a light walking cane in hishand, and with that air of half-veiled insolence that is sometimesaffected by certain persons who wish the world to believe that theyare of great importance, the Marquis de Croisenois entered the room.
At the age of twenty-five Henry de Croisenois affected the airs andmanners of a lad of twenty, and so found many who looked upon hisescapades with lenient eyes, ascribing them to the follies of youth.
Under this youthful mask, however he concealed a most astute andcunning intellect, and had more than once got the better of the womenwith whom he had had dealings. His fortune was terribly involved,because he had insisted on living at the same rate as men who had tentimes his income. Forming one of the recklessly extravagant band ofwhich the Duke de Saumeine was the head, Croisenois, too, kept hisracehorses, which was certainly the quickest way to wreck the mostprincely fortune. The Marquis had found out this, and was utterlyinvolved, when Mascarin extended a helping hand to him, to which heclung with all the energy of a drowning man.
Whatever Henry de Croisenois' anxieties may have been on the day inquestion, he did not allow a symptom of them to appear, and on hisentrance negligently drawled, "I have kept you waiting, I fear; butreally my time is not my own. I am quite at your service now, and willwait until these gentlemen have finished their business with you." Andas he concluded, he again placed the cigar which he had removed whilesaying these words, to his lips.
His manner was very insolent, and yet the amiable Mascarin did notseem offended, although he loathed the scent of tobacco.
"We had begun to despair of seeing you, Marquis," answered hepolitely. "I say so, because these gentlemen are here to meet you.
Permit me to introduce to you, Dr. Hortebise, M. Catenac of theParisian bar, and our secretary," pointing as he spoke, to Paul.
As soon as Croisenois had taken his seat, Mascarin went straight tothe point, as a bullet to the target. "I do not intend," began he, "toleave you in doubt for a moment. Beatings about the bush would beabsurd among persons like ourselves."At finding himself thus classed with the other persons present, theMarquis gave a little start, and then drawled out, "You flatter me,really.""I may tell you, Marquis," resumed Mascarin, "that your marriage hasbeen definitely arranged by myself and my associates. All you have todo is to get the young lady's consent; for that of the Count andCountess has already been secured.""There will be no difficulty in that," lisped the Marquis. "I willpromise her the best horsed carriage in the Bois, a box at the opera,unlimited credit at Van Klopen's, and perfect freedom. There will beno difficulty, I assure you. Of course, however, I must be presentedby some one who holds a good position in society.""Would the Viscountess de Bois Arden suit you?""No one better; she is a relation of the Count de Mussidan.""Good; then when you wish, Madame de Bois Arden will introduce you asa suitor for the young lady's hand, and praise you up to the skies."The Marquis looked very jubilant at hearing this. "All right," criedhe; "then that decides the matter."Paul wondered whether he was awake or dreaming. He too had beenpromised a rich wife, and here was another man who was being providedfor in the same manner. "These people," muttered he, "seem to keep amatrimonial agency as well as a servants' registry office!""All that is left, then," said the Marquis, "is to arrange the--shallI call it the commission?""I was about to come to that," returned Mascarin.
"Well, I will give you a fourth of the dowry, and on the day of mymarriage will hand you a cheque for that amount."Paul now imagined that he saw how matters worked. "If I marry Flavia,"thought he, "I shall have to share her dowry with these highlyrespectable gentlemen."The offer made by the Marquis did not, however, seem to pleaseMascarin. "That is not what we want," said he.
"No,--well, must I give you more? Say how much."Mascarin shook his head.
"Well then, I will give you a third; it is not worth while to give youmore.""No, no; I would not take half, nor even the whole of the dowry. Youmay keep that as well as what you owe us.""Well, but tell me what you /do/ want.""I will do so," answered Mascarin, adjusting his spectacles carefully;"but before doing so, I feel that I must give you a short account ofthe rise and progress of this association."At this statement Hortebise and Catenac sprang to their feet insurprise and terror. "Are you mad?" said they at length, with onevoice.
Mascarin shrugged his shoulders.
"Not yet," answered he gently, "and I beg that you will permit me togo on.""But surely we have some voice in the matter," faltered Catenac.
"That is enough," exclaimed Mascarin angrily, "Am not I the head ofthis association? Do you think," he continued in tones of deepsarcasm, "that we cannot speak openly before the Marquis?"Hortebise and the lawyer resignedly resumed their seats. Croisenoisthought that a word from him might reassure them.
"Among honest men--" began he.
"We are not honest men," interrupted Mascarin. "Sir," added he in asevere tone, "nor are you either."This plain speaking brought a bright flush to the face of the Marquis,who had half a mind to be angry, but policy restrained him, and heaffected to look on the matter as a joke. "Your joke is a littlepersonal," said he.
But Mascarin took no heed of his remark. "Listen to me," said he, "forwe have no time to waste, and do you," he added, turning to Paul, "paythe greatest attention."A moment of perfect silence ensued, broken only by the hum of voicesin the outer office.
"Marquis," said Mascarin, whose whole face blazed with a gleam ofconscious power, "twenty-five years ago I and my associates were youngand in a very different position. We were honest then, and all theillusions of youth were in full force; we had faith and hope. We allthen tenanted a wretched garret in the Rue de la Harpe, and loved eachother like brothers.""That was long, long ago," murmured Hortebise.
"Yes," rejoined Mascarin; "and yet the effluxion of times does nothinder me from seeing things as they then were, and my heart aches asI compare the hopes of those days with the realities of the present.
Then, Marquis, we were poor, miserably poor, and yet we all had vaguehopes of future greatness."Croisenois endeavored to conceal a sneer; the story was not a veryinteresting one.
"As I said before, each one of us anticipated a brilliant career.
Catenac had gained a prize by his 'Treatise on the Transfer of RealEstate,' and Hortebise had written a pamphlet regarding which thegreat Orfila had testified approval. Nor was I without my successes.
Hortebise had unluckily quarrelled with his family. Catenac'srelatives were poor, and I, well, I had no family. I stood alone. Wewere literally starving, and I was the only one earning money. Iprepared pupils for the military colleges, but as I only earnedtwenty-five sous a day by cramming a dull boy's brain with algebra andgeometry, that was not enough to feed us all. Well, to cut a longstory short, the day came when we had not a coin among us. I forgot totell you that I was devotedly attached to a young girl who was dyingof consumption, and who had neither food nor fuel. What could I do? Iknew not. Half mad, I rushed from the house, asking myself if I hadbetter plead for charity or take the money I required by force fromthe first passer-by. I wandered along the quays, half inclined toconfide my sorrow to the Seine, when suddenly I remembered it was aholiday at the Polytechnic School, and that if I went to the /CaféSemblon/ or the Palais Royal, I should most likely meet with some ofmy old pupils, who could perhaps lend me a few sous. Five francsperhaps, Marquis,--that is a very small sum, but in that day it meantthe life of my dear Marie and of my two friends. Have you ever beenhungry, M. de Croisenois?"De Croisenois started; he had never suffered from hunger, but howcould he tell what the future might bring? for his resources were sonearly exhausted, that even to-morrow he might be compelled to discardhis fictitious splendor and sink into the abyss of poverty.
"When I reached the /Café Semblon/," continued Mascarin, "I could notsee a single pupil, and the waiter to whom I addressed my i............