The Two Brothers, Honoré de Balzac [sites to read books for free TXT] 📗
- Author: Honoré de Balzac
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The second time the old bachelor went out he drove to Bourges, where, to escape the trouble of attending personally to the business, or, if you prefer it, being ordered to do so by Flore, he went before a notary and signed a power of attorney in favor of Maxence Gilet, enabling him to make all the transfers enumerated in the document. Flore reserved to herself the business of making Monsieur sell out the investments in Issoudun and its immediate neighborhood. The principal notary in Bourges was requested by Rouget to get him a loan of one hundred and forty thousand francs on his landed estate. Nothing was known at Issoudun of these proceedings, which were secretly and cleverly carried out. Maxence, who was a good rider, went with his own horse to Bourges and back between five in the morning and five in the afternoon. Flore never left the old bachelor. Rouget consented without objection to the action Flore dictated to him; but he insisted that the investment in the Funds, producing fifty thousand francs a year, should stand in Flore's name as holding a life-interest only, and in his as owner of the principal. The tenacity the old man displayed in the domestic disputes which this idea created caused Max a good deal of anxiety; he thought he could see the result of reflections inspired by the sight of the natural heirs.
Amid all these movements, which Max concealed from the knowledge of everyone, he forgot the Spaniard and his granary. Fario came back to Issoudun to deliver his corn, after various trips and business manoeuvres undertaken to raise the price of cereals. The morning after his arrival he noticed that the roof the church of the Capuchins was black with pigeons. He cursed himself for having neglected to examine its condition, and hurried over to look into his storehouse, where he found half his grain devoured. Thousands of mice-marks and rat-marks scattered about showed a second cause of ruin. The church was a Noah's-ark. But anger turned the Spaniard white as a bit of cambric when, trying to estimate the extent of the destruction and his consequence losses, he noticed that the grain at the bottom of the heap, near the floor, was sprouting from the effects of water, which Max had managed to introduce by means of tin tubes into the very centre of the pile of wheat. The pigeons and the rats could be explained by animal instinct; but the hand of man was plainly visible in this last sign of malignity.
Fario sat down on the steps of a chapel altar, holding his head between his hands. After half an hour of Spanish reflections, he spied the squirrel, which Goddet could not refrain from giving him as a guest, playing with its tail upon a cross-beam, on the middle of which rested one of the uprights that supported the roof. The Spaniard rose and turned to his watchman with a face that was as calm and cold as an Arab's. He made no complaint, but went home, hired laborers to gather into sacks what remained of the sound grain, and to spread in the sun all that was moist, so as to save as much as possible; then, after estimating that his losses amounted to about three fifths, he attended to filling his orders. But his previous manipulations of the market had raised the price of cereals, and he lost on the three fifths he was obliged to buy to fill his orders; so that his losses amounted really to more than half. The Spaniard, who had no enemies, at once attributed this revenge to Gilet. He was convinced that Maxence and some others were the authors of all the nocturnal mischief, and had in all probability carried his cart up the embankment of the tower, and now intended to amuse themselves by ruining him. It was a matter to him of over three thousand francs,--very nearly the whole capital he had scraped together since the peace. Driven by the desire for vengeance, the man now displayed the cunning and stealthy persistence of a detective to whom a large reward is offered. Hiding at night in different parts of Issoudun, he soon acquired proof of the proceedings of the Knights of Idleness; he saw them all, counted them, watched their rendezvous, and knew of their suppers at Mere Cognette's; after that he lay in wait to witness one of their deeds, and thus became well informed as to their nocturnal habits.
In spite of Max's journeys and pre-occupations, he had no intention of neglecting his nightly employments,--first, because he did not wish his comrades to suspect the secret of his operations with Pere Rouget's property; and secondly, to keep the Knights well in hand. They were therefore convened for the preparation of a prank which might deserve to be talked of for years to come. Poisoned meat was to be thrown on a given night to every watch-dog in the town and in the environs. Fario overheard them congratulating each other, as they came out from a supper at the Cognettes', on the probable success of the performance, and laughing over the general mourning that would follow this novel massacre of the innocents,--revelling, moreover, in the apprehensions it would excite as to the sinister object of depriving all the households of their guardian watch-dogs.
"It will make people forget Fario's cart," said Goddet.
Fario did not need that speech to confirm his suspicions; besides, his mind was already made up.
After three weeks' stay in Issoudun, Agathe was convinced, and so was Madame Hochon, of the truth of the old miser's observation, that it would take years to destroy the influence which Max and the Rabouilleuse had acquired over her brother. She had made no progress in Jean-Jacques's confidence, and she was never left alone with him. On the other hand, Mademoiselle Brazier triumphed openly over the heirs by taking Agathe to drive in the caleche, sitting beside her on the back seat, while Monsieur Rouget and his nephew occupied the front. Mother and son impatiently awaited an answer to the confidential letter they had written to Desroches. The day before the night on which the dogs were to be poisoned, Joseph, who was nearly bored to death in Issoudun, received two letters: the first from the great painter Schinner,--whose age allowed him a closer intimacy than Joseph could have with Gros, their master,--and the second from Desroches.
Here is the first, postmarked Beaumont-sur-Oise:--
My dear Joseph,--I have just finished the principal
panel-paintings at the chateau de Presles for the Comte de Serizy.
I have left all the mouldings and the decorative painting; and I
have recommended you so strongly to the count, and also to Gridot
the architect, that you have nothing to do but pick up your
brushes and come at once. Prices are arranged to please you. I am
off to Italy with my wife; so you can have Mistigris to help you
along. The young scamp has talent, and I put him at your disposal.
He is twittering like a sparrow at the very idea of amusing
himself at the chateau de Presles.
Adieu, my dear Joseph; if I am still absent, and should send
nothing to next year's Salon, you must take my place. Yes, dear
Jojo, I know your picture is a masterpiece, but a masterpiece
which will rouse a hue and cry about romanticism; you are doomed
to lead the life of a devil in holy water. Adieu.
Thy friend,
Schinner
Here follows the letter of Desroches:--
My dear Joseph,--Your Monsieur Hochon strikes me as an old man
full of common-sense, and you give me a high idea of his methods;
he is perfectly right. My advice, since you ask it, is that your
mother should remain at Issoudun with Madame Hochon, paying a
small board,--say four hundred francs a year,--to reimburse her
hosts for what she eats. Madame Bridau ought, in my opinion, to
follow Monsieur Hochon's advice in everything; for your excellent
mother will have many scruples in dealing with persons who have no
scruple at all, and whose behavior to her is a master-stroke of
policy. That Maxence, you are right enough, is dangerous. He is
another Philippe, but of a different calibre. The scoundrel makes
his vices serve his fortunes, and gets his amusement gratis;
whereas your brother's follies are never useful to him. All that
you say alarms me, but I could do no good by going to Issoudun.
Monsieur Hochon, acting behind your mother, will be more useful to
you than I. As for you, you had better come back here; you are
good for nothing in a matter which requires continual attention,
careful observation, servile civilities, discretion in speech, and
a dissimulation of manner and gesture which is wholly against the
grain of artists.
If they have told you no will has been made, you may be quite sure
they have possessed one for a long time. But wills can be revoked,
and as long as your fool of an uncle lives he is no doubt
susceptible of being worked upon by remorse and religion. Your
inheritance will be the result of a combat between the Church and
the Rabouilleuse. There will inevitably come a time when that
woman will lose her grip on the old man, and religion will be
all-powerful. So long as your uncle makes no gift of the property
during his lifetime, and does not change the nature of his estate,
all may come right whenever religion gets the upper hand. For this
reason, you must beg Monsieur Hochon to keep an eye, as well as he
can, on the condition of your uncle's property. It is necessary to
know if the real estate is mortgaged, and if so, where and in
whose name
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