"How?"

"Claparon has bit it in under the name of one of his creditors, a little toad named Sauvaignou. Desroches, the lawyer, has taken the case, and you'll get a notice to-morrow. This affair will oblige Claparon, Dutocq, and me to raise funds. What would become of me without Claparon! So I forgive him--yes, I forgave him, and though you may not believe it, my dear friend, I actually kissed him! Change your terms."

The last three words were horrible to hear, especially when ill.u.s.trated by the face of the speaker, who amused himself by playing a scene from the "Legataire," all the while studying attentively the Provencal's character.

"Oh, Cerizet!" cried Theodose; "I, who wished to do you so much good!"

"Don't you see, my dear fellow," returned Cerizet, "that between you and me there ought to be _this_,--" and he struck his heart,--"of which you have none. As soon as you thought you had a lever on us, you have tried to knock us over. I saved you from the horrors of starvation and vermin!

You'll die like the idiot you are. We put you on the high-road to fortune; we gave you a fine social skin and a position in which you could grasp the future--and look what you do! _Now_ I know you! and from this time forth, we shall go armed."

"Then it is war between us!" exclaimed Theodose.

"You fired first," returned Cerizet.

"If you pull me down, farewell to your hopes and plans; if you don't pull me down, you have in me an enemy."

"That's just what I said yesterday to Dutocq; but, how can we help it?

We are forced to choose between two alternatives--we must go according to circ.u.mstances. I'm a good-natured fellow myself," he added, after a pause; "bring me your twenty-five thousand francs to-morrow morning and Thuillier shall keep the house. We'll continue to help you at both ends, but you'll have to pay up, my boy. After what has just happened that's pretty kind, isn't it?"

And Cerizet patted Theodose on the shoulder, with a cynicism that seemed to brand him more than the iron of the galleys.

"Well, give me till to-morrow at mid-day," replied the Provencal, "for there'll be, as you said, some manipulation to do."

"I'll try to keep Claparon quiet; he's in such a hurry, that man!"

"To-morrow then," said Theodose, in the tone of a man who decides his course.

"Good-night, friend," said Cerizet, in his nasal tone, which degraded the finest word in the language. "There's one who has got a mouthful to suck!" thought Cerizet, as he watched Theodose going down the street with the step of a dazed man.

When la Peyrade reached the rue des Postes he went with rapid strides to Madame Colleville's house, exciting himself as he walked along, and talking aloud. The fire of his roused pa.s.sions and the sort of inward conflagration of which many Parisians are conscious (for such situations abound in Paris) brought him finally to a pitch of frenzy and eloquence which found expression, as he turned into the rue des Deux-Eglises, in the words:--

"I will kill him!"

"There's a fellow who is not content!" said a pa.s.sing workman, and the jesting words calmed the incandescent madness to which Theodose was a prey.

As he left Cerizet's the idea came to him to go to Flavie and tell her all. Southern natures are born thus--strong until certain pa.s.sions arise, and then collapsed. He entered Flavie's room; she was alone, and when she saw Theodose she fancied her last hour had come.

"What is the matter?" she cried.

"I--I--" he said. "Do you love me, Flavie?"

"Oh! how can you doubt it?"

"Do you love me absolutely?--if I were criminal, even?"

"Has he murdered some one?" she thought, replying to his question by a nod.

Theodose, thankful to seize even this branch of willow, drew a chair beside Flavie's sofa, and there gave way to sobs that might have touched the oldest judge, while torrents of tears began to flow from his eyes.

Flavie rose and left the room to say to her maid: "I am not at home to any one." Then she closed all doors and returned to Theodose, moved to the utmost pitch of maternal solicitude. She found him stretched out, his head thrown back, and weeping. He had taken out his handkerchief, and when Flavie tried to move it from his face it was heavy with tears.

"But what is the matter?" she asked; "what ails you?"

Nature, more impressive than art, served Theodose well; no longer was he playing a part; he was himself; this nervous crisis and these tears were the winding up of his preceding scenes of acted comedy.

"You are a child," she said, in a gentle voice, stroking his hair softly.

"I have but you, you only, in all the world!" he replied, kissing her hands with a sort of pa.s.sion; "and if you are true to me, if you are mine, as the body belongs to the soul and the soul to the body, then--"

he added, recovering himself with infinite grace, "_Then_ I can have courage."

He rose, and walked about the room.

"Yes, I will struggle; I will recover my strength, like Antaeus, from a fall; I will strangle with my own hands the serpents that entwine me, that kiss with serpent kisses, that slaver my cheeks, that suck my blood, my honor! Oh, misery! oh, poverty! Oh, how great are they who can stand erect and carry high their heads! I had better have let myself die of hunger, there, on my wretched pallet, three and a half years ago! A coffin is a softer bed to lie in than the life I lead! It is eighteen months that I have _fed on bourgeois_! and now, at the moment of attaining an honest, fortunate life, a magnificent future, at the moment when I was about to sit down to the social banquet, the executioner strikes me on the shoulder! Yes, the monster! he struck me there, on my shoulder, and said to me: 'Pay thy dues to the devil, or die!' And shall I not crush them? Shall I not force my arm down their throats to their very entrails? Yes, yes, I will, I will! See, Flavie, my eyes are dry now. Ha, ha! now I laugh; I feel my strength come back to me; power is mine! Oh! say that you love me; say it again! At this moment it sounds like the word 'Pardon' to the man condemned to death!"

"You are terrible, my friend!" cried Flavie. "Oh! you are killing me."

She understood nothing of all this, but she fell upon the sofa, exhausted by the spectacle. Theodose flung himself at her feet.

"Forgive me! forgive me!" he said.

"But what is the matter? what is it?" she asked again.

"They are trying to destroy me. Oh! promise to give me Celeste, and you shall see what a glorious life I will make you share. If you hesitate--very good; that is saying you will be wholly mine, and I will have you!"

He made so rapid a movement that Flavie, terrified, rose and moved away.

"Oh! my saint!" he cried, "at thy feet I fall--a miracle! G.o.d is for me, surely! A flash of light has come to me--an idea--suddenly! Oh, thanks, my good angel, my grand Saint-Theodose! thou hast saved me!"

Flavie could not help admiring that chameleon being; one knee on the floor, his hands crossed on his breast, and his eyes raised to heaven in religious ecstasy, he recited a prayer; he was a fervent Catholic; he reverently crossed himself. It was fine; like the vision of Saint-Jerome.

"Adieu!" he said, with a melancholy look and a moving tone of voice.

"Oh!" cried Flavie, "leave me this handkerchief."

Theodose rushed away like one possessed, sprang into the street, and darted towards the Thuilliers', but turned, saw Flavie at her window, and made her a little sign of triumph.

"What a man!" she thought to herself.

"Dear, good friend," he said to Thuillier, in a calm and gentle, almost caressing voice, "we have fallen into the hands of atrocious scoundrels.

But I mean to read them a lesson."

"What has happened?" asked Brigitte.

"They want twenty-five thousand francs, and, in order to get the better of us, the notary, or his accomplices, have determined to bid in the property. Thuillier, put five thousand francs in your pocket and come with me; I will secure that house to you. I am making myself implacable enemies!" he cried; "they are seeking to destroy me morally. But all I ask is that you will disregard their infamous calumnies and feel no change of heart to me. After all, what is it? If I succeed, you will only have paid one hundred and twenty-five thousand francs for the house instead of one hundred and twenty."

"Provided the same thing doesn't happen again," said Brigitte, uneasily, her eyes dilating under the effect of a violent suspicion.

"Preferred creditors have alone the right to bid in property, and as, in this case, there is but one, and he has used that right, we are safe.

The amount of his claim is really only two thousand francs, but there are lawyers, attorneys, and so forth, to pay in such matters, and we shall have to drop a note of a thousand francs to make the creditor happy."