The Mysteries Of Paris Volume Ii Part 33

"Oh, yes! He dares address her as though she were the very vilest of creatures."

"Well, you must not mind that; for should she leave the notary, there is no doubt he would instantly throw you into prison, and then what would become of me, with these five helpless creatures and my mother? Suppose Louise did earn twenty francs a month in another place, do you think seven persons can live on that?"

"And so that we may live, Louise is to be disgraced and left to ruin?"

"You always make things out worse than they are. It is true the notary makes offers of love to Louise; she has told us so repeatedly. But then you know what a good girl she is; she would never listen to him."

"She is good, indeed; and so right-minded, active, and industrious!

When, seeing how badly we were off in consequence of your long illness, she insisted upon going to service that she might not be a burthen to us, did I not say what it cost me to part with her? To think of my sweet Louise being subjected to all the harshness and humiliation of a servant's life,--she who was naturally so proud that we used jokingly--ah, we could joke then!--to call her the Princess, because she always said that, by dint of care and cleanliness, she would make our little home like a palace! Dear Louise! It would have been my greatest happiness to have kept her with me, though I had worked all day and all night too. And when I saw her blooming face, with her bright eyes glancing at me as she sat beside my work-table, my labour always seemed lightened; and when she sung like a bird those little songs she knew I liked to hear, I used to fancy myself the happiest father alive. Poor dear Louise! so hard-working, yet always so gay and lively! Why, she could even manage your mother, and make her do whatever she wished. But I defy any one to resist her sweet words or winning smile. And how she watched over and waited upon you! What pains she would take to try and divert you from thinking of what you suffered! And how tenderly she looked after her little brothers and sisters, finding time for everything! Ah, with our Louise all our joy and happiness--all--all--left us!"

"Don't go on so, Morel. Don't remind me of all these things, or you will break my heart," cried Madeleine, weeping bitterly.

"And, then, when I think that perhaps that old monster--Do you know, when that idea flashes across my brain, my senses seem disturbed, and I have but one thought, that of first killing him and then killing myself?"

"What would become of all of us if you were to do so? Besides, I tell you again, you make things worse than they really are. I dare say the notary was only joking with Louise. He is such a pious man, and goes so regularly to ma.s.s every Sunday, and only keeps company with priests folks say. Why, many people think that he is safer to place money with than the bank itself."

"Well, and what does all that prove? Merely that he is a rich hypocrite, instead of a poor one. I know well enough what a good girl Louise is; but then she loves us so tenderly that it breaks her heart to see the want and wretchedness we are in. She knows well enough that if anything were to happen to me you would all perish with hunger; and by threatening to put me into prison he might work on the dear child's mind,--like a villain as he is,--and persuade her, on our account! O, G.o.d, my brain burns! I feel as though I were going mad."

"But, Morel, if ever that were the case, the notary would be sure to make her a great number of fine presents or money, and, I am sure, she would not have kept them all to herself. She would certainly have brought part to us."

"Silence, woman! Let me hear no more such words escape your lips. Louise touch the wages of infamy! My good, my virtuous girl, accept such foul gifts! Oh, wife!"

"Not for herself, certainly. But to bring to us perhaps she would--"

"Madeleine," exclaimed Morel, excited almost to frenzy, "again, I say, let me not hear such language from your lips; you make me shudder.

Heaven only knows what you and the children also would become were I taken away, if such are your principles."

"Why, what harm did I say?"

"Oh, none."

"Then what makes you uneasy about Louise?"

The lapidary impatiently interrupted his wife by saying:

"Because I have noticed for the last three months that, whenever Louise comes to see us, she seems embarra.s.sed, and even confused. When I take her in my arms and embrace her, as I have been used to do from her birth, she blushes."

"Ah, that is with delight at seeing you, or from shame."

"She seems sadder and more dejected, too, each visit she pays us."

"Because she finds our misery constantly increasing. Besides, when I spoke to her concerning the notary, she told me he had quite ceased his threats of putting you in prison."

"But did she tell you the price she has paid to induce him to lay aside his threats? She did not tell you that, I dare say, did she? Ah, a father's eye is not to be deceived; and her blushes and embarra.s.sments, when giving me her usual kiss, make me dread I know not what. Why, would it not be an atrocious thing to say to a poor girl, whose bread depended on her employer's word, 'Either sacrifice your virtuous principles, and become what I would have you, or quit my house? And if any one should inquire of me respecting the character you have with me, I shall speak of you in such terms that no one will take you into their service.'

Well, then, how much worse is it to frighten a fond and affectionate child into surrendering her innocence, by threatening to put her father into prison if she refused, when the brute knows that upon the labour of that father a whole family depends? Surely the earth contains nothing more infamous, more fiendlike, than such conduct."

"Ah," replied Madeleine, "and then only to think that with the value of one, only one of those diamonds now lying on your table, we might pay the notary all we owe him, and so take Louise out of his power and keep her at home with us. Don't you see, husband?"

"What is the use of your repeating the same thing over and over again?

You might just as well tell me that if I were rich I should not be poor," answered Morel, with sorrowful impatience. For such was the innate and almost const.i.tutional honesty of this man, that it never once occurred to him that his weak-minded partner, bowed down and irritated by long suffering and want, could ever have conceived the idea of tempting him to a dishonourable appropriation of that which belonged to another.

With a heavy sigh, the unfortunate man resigned himself to his hard fate. "Thrice happy those parents who can retain their innocent children beneath the paternal roof, and defend them from the thousand snares laid to entrap their unsuspecting youth. But who is there to watch over the safety of the poor girl condemned at an early age to seek employment from home? Alas, no one! Directly she is capable of adding her mite to the family earnings, she leaves her dwelling at an early hour, and repairs to the manufactory where she may happen to be engaged.

Meanwhile, both father and mother are too busily employed to have leisure to attend to their daughter's comings or goings. 'Our time is our stock in trade,' cry they, 'and bread is too dear to enable us to lay aside our work while we look after our children.' And then there is an outcry raised as to the quant.i.ty of depraved females constantly to be met with, and of the impropriety of conduct among those of the lower orders, wholly forgetting that the parents have neither the means of keeping them at home, nor of watching over their morals when away from them."

Thus mentally moralised Morel. Then, speaking aloud, he added:

"After all, our greatest privation is when forced to quit our parents, wives, or children. It is to the poor that family affection is most comforting and beneficial. Yet, directly our children grow up, and are capable of becoming our dearest companions, we are forced to part with them."

At this moment some one knocked loudly at the door.

CHAPTER XIII.

JUDGMENT AND EXECUTION.

The lapidary, much astonished, rose and opened the door. Two men entered the garret. One, tall, lanky, with an ill-favoured and pimply face, shaded by thick grizzly whiskers, held in his hand a thick cane, loaded at the head; he wore a battered hat, and a long-tailed and bespattered green coat, b.u.t.toned up close to his throat. Above the threadbare velvet collar was displayed his long neck, red and bald like that of a vulture.

This man's name was Malicorne. The other was a shorter man, with a look as low-lived, and red, fat, puffed features, dressed with a great effort at ridiculous splendour. s.h.i.+ny b.u.t.tons were in the folds of the front of his s.h.i.+rt, whose cleanliness was most suspicious, and a long chain of mosaic gold serpentined down a faded plaid waistcoat, which was seen beneath his seedy Chesterfield, of a yellowish gray colour. This gentleman's name was Bourdin.

"How poverty-stricken this hole smells," said Malicorne, pausing on the threshold.

"Why, it does not scent of lavender-water. Confound it, but we have a lowish customer to deal with," responded Bourdin, with a gesture of disgust and contempt, and then advanced towards the artisan, who was looking at him with as much surprise as indignation.

Through the door, left a little ajar, might be seen the villainous, watchful, and cunning face of the young scamp Tortillard, who, having followed these strangers unknown to them, was sneaking after, spying, and listening to them.

"What do you want?" inquired the lapidary, abruptly, disgusted at the coa.r.s.eness of these fellows.

"Jerome Morel?" said Bourdin.

"I am he!"

"Working lapidary?"

"Yes."

"You are quite sure?"

"Quite sure. But you are troublesome, so tell me at once your business, or leave the room."

"Really, your politeness is remarkable! Much obliged! I say, Malicorne,"

said the man, turning to his comrade, "there's not so much fat to cut at here as there was at that 'ere Viscount de Saint-Remy's."

"I believe you; but when there is fat, why the door's kept shut in your face, as we found in the Rue de Chaillot. The bird had hopped the twig, and precious quick, too, whilst such vermin as these hold on to their cribs like a snail to his sh.e.l.l."

"I believe you; well, the stone jug just suits such individuals."

"The sufferer (creditor) must be a good fellow, for it will cost him more than it's worth; but that's his lookout."