23Two hours after Andre had left the Avenue de Matignon, one ofMascarin's most trusty emissaries was at his heels, who could watchhis actions with the tenacity of a bloodhound. Andre, however, nowthat he had heard of Sabine's convalescence, had entirely recoveredthe elasticity of his spirits, and would never have noticed that hewas being followed. His heart, too, was much rejoiced at thefriendship of M. de Breulh and the promise of assistance from theViscountess de Bois Arden; and with the assistance of these two, hefelt that he could end his difficulties.
"I must get to work again," muttered he, as he left M. de Breulh'shospitable house. "I have already lost too much time. To-morrow, ifyou look up at the scaffolding of a splendid house in the ChampsElysees, you will see me at work."Andre was busy all night with his plans for the rich contractor, M.
Gandelu, who wanted as much ornamental work on the outside of hishouse as he had florid decorations within. He rose with the lark, andhaving gazed for a moment on Sabine's portrait, started for the abodeof M. Gandelu, the proud father of young Gaston. This celebratedcontractor lived in a splendid house in the Rue Chasse d'Antin, untilhis more palatial residence should be completed.
When Andre presented himself at the door, an old servant, who knew himwell, strongly urged him not to go up.
"Never," said he, "in all the time that I have been with master, haveI seen him in such a towering rage. Only just listen!"It was easy to hear the noise alluded to, mingled with the breaking ofglass and the smashing of furniture.
"The master has been at this game for over an hour," remarked theservant, "ever since his lawyer, M. Catenac, has left him."Andre, however, decided not to postpone his visit. "I must see him inspite of everything; show me up," said he.
With evident reluctance the domestic obeyed, and threw open the doorof a room superbly furnished and decorated, in the centre of whichstood M. Gandelu waving the leg of a chair frantically in his hand. Hewas a man of sixty years of age, but did not look fifty, built like aHercules, with huge hands and muscular limbs which seemed to fretunder the restraint of his fashionable garments. He had made hisenormous fortune, of which he was considerably proud, by honest labor,and no one could say that he had not acted fairly throughout his wholecareer. He was coarse and violent in his manner, but he had a generousheart and never refused aid to the deserving and needy. He swore likea trooper, and his grammar was faulty; but for all that, his heart wasin the right place, and he was a better man than many who boast ofhigh birth and expensive education.
"What idiot is coming here to annoy me?" roared he, as soon as thedoor was opened.
"I have come by appointment," answered Andre, and the contractor'sbrow cleared as he saw who his visitor was.
"Ah, it is you, is it? Take a seat; that is, if there is a sound chairleft in the room. I like you, for you have an honest face and don'tshirk hard work. You needn't color up, though; modesty is no fault.
Yes, there is something in you, and when you want a hundred thousandfrancs to go into business with, here it is ready for you; and had I adaughter, you should marry her, and I would build your house for you.""I thank you much," said Andre; "but I have learned to depend entirelyon myself.""True," returned Gandelu, "you never knew your parents; you never knewwhat a kind father would do for his child. Do you know my son?" askedhe, suddenly turning upon Andre.
This question at once gave Andre the solution of the scene before him.
M. Gandelu was irritated at some folly that his son had committed. Fora moment Andre hesitated; he did not care to say anything that mightrevive the old man's feeling of anger, and therefore merely repliedthat he had only met his son Gaston two or three times.
"Gaston," cried the old man, with a bitter oath; "do not call himthat. Do you think it likely that old Nicholas Gandelu would ever havebeen ass enough to call his son Gaston? He was called Peter, after hisgrandfather, but it wasn't a good enough one for the young fool; hewanted a swell name, and Peter had too much the savor of hard work init for my fine gentleman. But that isn't all; I could let that pass,"continued the old man. "Pray have you seen his cards? Over the name ofGaston de Gandelu is a count's coronet. He a count indeed! the son ofa man who has carried a hod for years!""Young people will be young people," Andre ventured to observe; butthe old man's wrath would not be assuaged by a platitude like this.
"You can find no excuse for him, only the fellow is absolutely ashamedof his father. He consorts with titled fools and is in the seventhheaven if a waiter addresses him as 'Count,' not seeing that it is nothe that is treated with respect, but the gold pieces of his oldfather, the working man."Andre's position was now a most painful one, and he would have given agood deal not to be the recipient of a confidence which was the resultof anger.
"He is only twenty, and yet see what a wreck he is," resumed Gandelu.
"His eyes are dim, and he is getting bald; he stoops, and spends hisnights in drink and bad company. I have, however, only myself toblame, for I have been far too lenient; and if he had asked me for myhead, I believe that I should have given it to him. He had only to askand have. After my wife's death, I had only the boy. Do you know whathe has in this house? Why, rooms fit for a prince, two servants andfour horses. I allow him monthly, fifteen hundred francs, and he goesabout calling me a niggard, and has already squandered every bit ofhis poor mother's fortune." He stopped, and turned pale, for at thatmoment the door opened, and young Gaston, or rather Peter, slouchedinto the room.
"It is the common fate of fathers to be disappointed in theiroffspring, and to see the sons who ought to have been their honor andglory the scourge to punish their worldly aspirations," exclaimed theold man.
"Good! that is really a very telling speech," murmured Gastonapprovingly, "considering that you have not made a special study ofelocution."Fortunately his father did not catch these words, and continued in avoice broken by emotion, "That, M. Andre, is my son, who for twentyyears has been my sole care. Well, believe it or not, as you like, hehas been speculating on my death, as you might speculate on a race-horse at Vincennes.""No, no," put in Gaston, but his father stopped him with a disdainfulgesture.
"Have at least the courage to acknowledge your fault. You thought meblind because I said nothing, but your past conduct has opened myeyes.""But, father!""Do not attempt to deny it. This very morning my man of business, M.
Catenac, wrote to me, and with that real courage which only truefriends possess, told me all. I must tell you, M. Andre," resumed thecontractor, "I was ill. I had a severe attack of the gout, such as aman seldom recovers from, and my son was constant in his attendance atmy sick couch. This consoled me. 'He loves me after all,' said I. Butit was only my testamentary arrangements that he wanted to discover,and he went straight to a money-lender called Clergot and raised ahundred thousand francs assuring the blood-sucker that I had not manyhours to live.""It is a lie!" cried Gaston, his face crimsoning with shame.
The old man raised the leg of the chair in his hand, and made sothreatening a movement that Andre flung himself between father andson. "Great heavens!" cried he, "think what you are doing, sir, andforbear."The old man paused, passed his hand round his brow, and flung theweapon into a remote corner of the room. "I thank you," said he,grasping Andre's hand; "you have saved me from a great crime. Inanother moment I should have murdered him."Gaston was no coward, and he still retained the position he had beenin before.
"This is quite romantic," muttered he. "The governor seems to be goingin for infanticide."Andre did not allow him to finish the sentence, for, grasping theyoung man's wrist, he whispered fiercely, "Not another word; silence!""But I want to know what it all means?" answered the irrepressibleyouth.
"I had in my hands," said the old man, addressing Andre, and ignoringthe presence of his son, "the important paper he had copied. Yes; notmore than an hour ago I read it. These wer............