Lisbeth, to all at with Madame Marneffe, had taken up her with Marshal Hulot. Ten days after these events, the of marriage were published the old and the old officer, to whom, to win his consent, Adeline had related the financial that had her Hector, him to mention it to the Baron, who was, as she said, much saddened, and crushed.
"Alas! he is as old as his years," she added.
So Lisbeth had triumphed. She was the object of her ambition, she would see the success of her scheme, and her gratified. She in the of over the family who had so long looked upon her. Yes, she would her patrons, she would be the who would out a to the family; she herself as "Madame la Comtesse" and "Madame la Marechale," in of a glass. Adeline and Hortense should end their days in with poverty, while she, a visitor at the Tuileries, would lord it in the world.
A terrible the old from the social where she so proudly herself.
On the very day when the were published, the Baron a second message from Africa. Another Alsatian arrived, him a letter, after assuring himself that he spoke to Baron Hulot, and after the Baron the address of his lodgings, himself out, the great man by the opening lines of this letter:—
"DEAR NEPHEW,—You will this letter, by my calculations,
on the 7th of August. Supposing it takes you three days to send us
the help we need, and that it is a on the way here, that
us to the 1st of September.
"If you can act that time, you will have saved
the and the life of yours sincerely, Johann Fischer.
"This is what I am to by the you have made
my accomplice; for I am amenable, it would seem, to the law, at
the Assizes, or a of war. Of course, you understand
that Johann Fischer will be to the of any
tribunal; he will go of his own act to appear at that of God.
"Your to me a lot, of you
into water; but he is as as any rogue. He says the line
for you to take is to call out louder than any one, and to send
out an inspector, a special commissioner, to who is
guilty, up abuses, and make a fuss, in short; but if
we up the struggle, who will us and the law?
"If your here by the 1st of September, and
you have him your orders, sending by him two hundred
thousand to place in our the we
to have in country places, we shall be
and as blameless. You can trust the
soldier who is the of this with a in my name
on a house in Algiers. He is a fellow, a relation of
mine, of trying to out what he is the of. I
have taken to the fellow's safe return. If you
can do nothing, I am and to die for the man to whom
we our Adeline's happiness!"
The and of and the which had his career of had Baron Hulot's of Johann Fischer, though his had of the now so pressing. The Baron out of the dining-room in such that he on to a sofa in the drawing-room. He was stunned, in the of a fall. He at a flower on the carpet, that he still in his hand Johann's letter.
Adeline, in her room, her husband himself on the sofa, like a mass; the noise was so that she he had an attack. She looked through the door at the mirror, in such as stops the and motion, and she saw her Hector in the of a man crushed. The Baroness in on tiptoe; Hector nothing; she close up to him, saw the letter, took it, read it, in every limb. She through one of those that their for on the sufferer. Within a days she to a trembling, for after the the need for action gave her such as can only be from the very of the powers.
"Hector, come into my room," said she, in a voice that was no more than a breath. "Do not let your see you in this state! Come, my dear, come!"
"Two hundred thousand francs? Where can I them? I can Claude Vignon sent out there as commissioner. He is a clever, fellow. That is a of a of days. But two hundred thousand francs! My son has not so much; his house is with for three hundred thousand. My has saved thirty thousand at most. Nucingen would laugh at me! Vauvinet? he was not very to me the ten thousand I wanted to make up the for that Marneffe's boy. No, it is all up with me; I must myself at the Prince's feet, how stand, myself told that I am a low scoundrel, and take his so as to go to the bottom."
"But, Hector, this is not ruin, it is disgrace," said Adeline. "My uncle will kill himself. Only kill us—yourself and me; you have a right to do that, but do not be a murderer! Come, take courage; there must be some way out of it."
"Not one," said Hulot. "No one in the Government two hundred thousand francs, not if it were to save an Administration! Oh, Napoleon! where art thou?"
"My uncle! man! Hector, he must not be allowed to kill himself in disgrace."
"There is one more chance," said he, "but a very one. Yes, Crevel is at with his daughter. He has of money, he alone "
"Listen, Hector it will be for your wife to than to our uncle to perish—and your brother—the of the family!" the Baroness, by a of light. "Yes, I can save you all. Good God! what a thought! How it have to me?"
She her hands, on her knees, and put up a prayer. On rising, she saw such a of on her husband's face, that the returned, and then Adeline into a of melancholy.
"Go, my dear, at once to the War Office," said she, herself from this torpor; "try to send out a commission; it must be done. Get the Marshal. And on your return, at five o'clock, you will find—perhaps—yes! you shall two hundred thousand francs. Your family, your as a man, as a State official, a Councillor of State, your honesty—your son—all shall be saved;—but your Adeline will be lost, and you will see her no more. Hector, my dear," said she, him, and his hand, "give me your blessing! Say farewell."
It was so heart-rending that Hulot put his arms his wife, her and her, saying:
"I do not understand."
"If you did," said she, "I should die of shame, or I should not have the to out this last sacrifice."
"Breakfast is served," said Mariette.
Hortense came in to wish her good-morning. They had to go to and assume a false face.
"Begin without me; I will join you," said the Baroness.
She sat to her and as follows:
"MY DEAR MONSIEUR CREVEL,—I have to ask a service of you; I shall
you this morning, and I count on your gallantry, which is
well to me, to save me from having too long to wait for you.
—Your servant,
"ADELINE HULOT."
"Louise," said she to her daughter's maid, who waited on her, "take this note to the and him to it at once to this address and wait for an answer."
The Baron, who was reading the news, out a Republican paper to his wife, pointing to an article, and saying:
"Is there time?"
This was the paragraph, one of the terrible "notes" with which the papers their political and butter:—
"A in Algiers that such have been
in the transactions of the of
Oran, that the Law is making inquiries. The is
self-evident, and the are known. If measures
are not taken, we shall continue to more men through the
that limits their than by Arab or the
of the climate. We before
on this business. We need no longer wonder at
the terror by the of the Press in Africa, as
was by the Charter of 1830."
"I will dress and go to the Minister," said the Baron, as they rose from table. "Time is precious; a man's life on every minute."
"Oh, mamma, there is no for me!" Hortense. And unable to check her tears, she to her mother a number of the Revue Beaux Arts.
Madame Hulot's on a print of the group of "Delilah" by Count Steinbock, under which were the words, "The property of Madame Marneffe."
The very lines of the article, V., the and of Claude Vignon.
"Poor child!" said the Baroness.
Alarmed by her mother's of indifference, Hortense looked up, saw the of a which her own paled, and rose to her mother, saying:
"What is the matter, mamma? What is happening? Can we be more than we are already?"
"My child, it to me that in what I am going through to-day my past are as nothing. When shall I have to suffer?"
"In heaven, mother," said Hortense solemnly.
"Come, my angel, help me to dress. No, no; I will not have you help me in this! Send me Louise."
Adeline, in her room, to study herself in the glass. She looked at herself closely and sadly, to herself:
"Am I still handsome? Can I still be desirable? Am I not wrinkled?"
She up her hair, her temples; they were as fresh as a girl's. She further; she her shoulders, and was satisfied; nay, she had a little of pride. The of is one of the last a woman loses, if she has chastely.
Adeline her dress carefully, but the and woman is to the end, in of her little graces. Of what use were brand-new and high shoes when she was of the art of a at a moment, by it an or two a half-lifted skirt, opening to desire? She put on, indeed, her dress, with a low and sleeves; but at so much bareness, she her arms with clear and her under an cape. Her curls, a l'Anglaise, her as too fly-away; she their by on a very cap; but, with or without the cap, would she have how to the so as to off her to admiration?
As to rouge—the of guilt, the for a fall, this woman into a of high fever, which, for the time, the of youth. Her were bright, her glowed. Instead of a air, she saw in herself a look of which her.
Lisbeth, at Adeline's request, had told her all the of Wenceslas' infidelity; and the Baroness had learned to her amazement, that in one in one moment, Madame Marneffe had herself the of the artist.
"How do these do it?" the Baroness had asked Lisbeth.
There is no so great as that of on such subjects; they would like to know the of and immaculate.
"Why, they are seductive; it is their business," said Cousin Betty. "Valerie that evening, my dear, was, I declare, to an to perdition."
"But tell me how she set to work."
"There is no principle, only in that walk of life," said Lisbeth ironically.
The Baroness, this conversation, would have liked to Cousin Betty; but there was no time for that. Poor Adeline, of a patch, of a in the very middle of her bosom, of the of the to the of nature, was well dressed. A woman is not a for the wishing!
"Woman is for man," as Moliere says by the mouth of the Gros-Rene. This a of art in love. Then the wife would be a Homeric meal, on cinders. The courtesan, on the contrary, is a dish by Careme, with its condiments, spices, and arrangement. The Baroness not—did not know how to up her in a dish of lace, after the manner of Madame Marneffe. She nothing of the of attitudes. This high-souled woman might have and a hundred times, and she would have nothing to the of a profligate.
To be a good woman and a to all the world, and a to her husband, is the gift of a woman of genius, and they are few. This is the of long fidelity, to the who are not with the and faculty. Imagine Madame Marneffe virtuous, and you have the Marchesa di Pescara. But such and women, as Diane de Poitiers, but virtuous, may be easily counted.
So the with which this and terrible of Paris manners opened was about to be repeated, with this difference—that the then by the captain of the Militia had the parts. Madame Hulot was Crevel with the same as had him to her, at the Paris from his milord, three years ago. And, thing of all, the Baroness was true to herself and to her love, while preparing to to the infidelity, such as the of not in the of some judges.
"What can I do to a Madame Marneffe?" she asked herself as she the door-bell.
She her tears, gave to her face, and she meant to be the courtesan, poor, soul.
"What the can that Baronne Hulot want of me?" Crevel as he the stairs. "She is going to discuss my with Celestine and Victorin, no doubt; but I will not give way!"
As he into the drawing-room, in by Louise, he said to himself as he noted the of the place (Crevel's word):
"Poor woman! She here like some picture in a by a man who nothing of painting."
Crevel, Comte Popinot, the Minister of Commerce, pictures and statues, wanted also to as a Maecenas of Paris, love of Art in making good investments.
Adeline at Crevel, pointing to a chair her.
"Here I am, lady, at your command," said Crevel.
Monsieur the Mayor, a political personage, now black broadcloth. His face, at the top of this suit, like a full moon above a of dark clouds. His shirt, with three large pearls five hundred apiece, gave a great idea of his capacity, and he was to say, "In me you see the of the tribune!" His hands were in yellow in the morning; his leather spoke of the chocolate-colored with one in which he drove.
In the of three years had Crevel's pretensions. Like all great artists, he had come to his second manner. In the great world, when he to the Prince de Wissembourg's, to the Prefecture, to Comte Popinot's, and the like, he his in his hand in an manner him by Valerie, and he the thumb of the other hand in the of his with a air, and a and expression. This new of was to the of Valerie, who, under of her mayor, had him an added touch of the ridiculous.
"I you to come, my dear Monsieur Crevel," said the Baroness in a voice, "on a of the "
"I can what it is, madame," said Crevel, with a air, "but what you would ask is impossible. Oh, I am not a father, a man—to use Napoleon's words—set hard and fast on avarice. Listen to me, lady. If my children were themselves for their own benefit, I would help them out of the scrape; but as for your husband, madame? It is like trying to the of the Danaides! Their house is for three hundred thousand for an father! Why, they have nothing left, wretches! And they have no fun for their money. All they have to live upon is what Victorin may make in Court. He must his more, must your son! And he was to have been a Minister, that learned youth! Our and pride. A pilot, who like a land-lubber; for if he had to him to on, if he had into for Deputies, votes, and his influence, I should be the to say, ‘Here is my purse—dip your hand in, my friend!' But when it comes of paying for papa's folly—folly I you of! Ah! his father has him of every of power. It is I who shall be Minister!"
"Alas, my dear Crevel, it has nothing to do with the children, souls! If your is closed to Victorin and Celestine, I shall love them so much that I may the of their by your anger. You are your children for a good action!"
"Yes, for a good action done! That is a crime," said Crevel, much pleased with his epigram.
"Doing good, my dear Crevel, not money out of a that is with it; it means to be generous, for liberality! It is being prepared for ingratitude! Heaven not see the that us nothing "
"Saints, madame, may if they go to the workhouse; they know that it is for them the door of heaven. For my part, I am worldly-minded; I God, but yet more I the of poverty. To be is the last of in as now constituted. I am a man of my time; I respect money."
"And you are right," said Adeline, "from the point of view."
She was a thousand miles from her point, and she herself on a gridiron, like Saint Laurence, as she of her uncle, for she see him his out.
She looked down; then she her to at Crevel with sweetness—not with the which was part of Valerie's wit. Three years ago she have Crevel by that look.
"I have the time," said she, "when you were more generous—you used to talk of three hundred thousand like a "
Crevel looked at Madame Hulot; he her like a in the last of its bloom, rose him, but he such respect for this that he all and them in the most of his heart.
"I, madame, am still the same; but a retired merchant, if he is a gentleman, plays, and must play, the part with method and economy; he his ideas of order into everything. He opens an account for his little amusements, and profits to that of expenditure; but as to his capital! it would be folly. My children will have their intact, mine and my wife's; but I do not that they wish their father to be dull, a monk and a mummy! My life is a very one; I the stream. I all the on me by law, by my affections, and by family ties, just as I always used to be in paying my when they due. If only my children themselves in their life as I do, I shall be satisfied; and for the present, so long as my follies—for I have follies—are no to any one but the gulls—excuse me, you do not the word—they will have nothing to me for, and will a tidy little still left when I die. Your children cannot say as much of their father, who is his son and my by his "
The Baroness was from her object as he on.
"You are very about my husband, my dear Crevel—and yet, if you had his wife obliging, you would have been his best friend "
She a at Crevel; but, like Dubois, who gave the Regent three kicks, she too much, and the perfumer's jumped at such suggestions, that he said to himself, "Does she want to turn the tables on Hulot? Does she think me more as a Mayor than as a National Guardsman? Women are creatures!"
And he the position of his second manner, looking at the Baroness with his Regency leer.
"I almost fancy," she on, "that you want to visit on him your against the that you—in a woman you loved well enough—to—to her," she added in a low voice.
"In a woman," Crevel replied, with a meaning at the Baroness, who looked while rose to her eyes. "For you have not a pills! in these three years—hey, my beauty?"
"Do not talk of my troubles, dear Crevel; they are too much for the of a being. Ah! if you still love me, you may me out of the in which I lie. Yes, I am in torment! The who were and and into by four were on roses with me, for their only were dismembered, and my is in "
Crevel's thumb moved from his armhole, he his hand on the work-table, he his attitude, he smiled! The was so that it the Baroness; she took it for an of kindness.
"You see a woman, not in despair, but with her at the point of death, and prepared for everything, my dear friend, to a crime."
Fearing that Hortense might come in, she the door; then with equal she at Crevel's feet, took his hand and it.
"Be my deliverer!" she cried.
She there was some in this soul, and full of that she might the two hundred thousand without herself:
"Buy a soul—you were once to virtue!" she on, with a gaze. "Trust to my as a woman, to my honor, of which you know the worth! Be my friend! Save a whole family from ruin, shame, despair; keep it from into a where the are with blood! Oh! ask for no explanations," she exclaimed, at a movement on Crevel's part, who was about to speak. "Above all, do not say to me, ‘I told you so!' like a friend who is at a misfortune. Come now, to her you used to love, to the woman at your is the moment of her glory; ask nothing of her, what you will from her gratitude! No, no. Give me nothing, but lend—lend to me you used to call Adeline "
At this point her so fast, Adeline was so passionately, that Crevel's were wet. The words, "I need two hundred thousand francs," were in the of weeping, as stones, large, are in Alpine by the melting of the snows.
This is the of virtue. Vice for nothing, as we have in Madame Marneffe; it offered to it. Women of that are till they have themselves indispensable, or when a man has to be as a is where the is scarce—going to ruin, as the quarry-men say.
On these words, "Two hundred thousand francs," Crevel all. He the Baroness, saying insolently:
"Come, come, up, mother," which Adeline, in her distraction, failed to hear. The was its character. Crevel was "master of the situation," to use his own words.
