Theodose de la Peyrade.

"There, will that suit you?" said the barrister, pa.s.sing the paper to Thuillier.

"Perfectly," replied Thuillier, taking the precaution to fold the letter himself and seal it. "Put the address," he added.

Then he rang the bell for the porter.

"You will carry this letter to its address," he said to the man, "and bring back with you the person named. But will she be there?" he asked, on reflection.

"It is more than probable," replied la Peyrade; "in any case, neither you nor I will leave this room until she comes. This matter must be cleared up."

"Then go!" said Thuillier to the porter, in a theatrical tone.

When they were alone, la Peyrade took up a newspaper and appeared to be absorbed in its perusal.

Thuillier, beginning to get uneasy as to the upshot of the affair, regretted that he had not done something the idea of which had come to him just too late.

"Yes, I ought," he said to himself, "to have torn up that letter, and not driven him to prove his words."

Wishing to do something that might look like retaining la Peyrade in the position of which he had threatened to deprive him, he remarked presently:--

"By the bye, I have just come from the printing-office; the new type has arrived, and I think we might make our first appearance to-morrow."

La Peyrade did not answer; but he got up and took his paper nearer to the window.

"He is sulky," thought Thuillier, "and if he is innocent, he may well be. But, after all, why did he ever bring a man like that Cerizet here?"

Then to hide his embarra.s.sment and the preoccupation of his mind, he sat down before the editor's table, took a sheet of the head-lined paper and made himself write a letter.

Presently la Peyrade returned to the table and sitting down, took another sheet and with the feverish rapidity of a man stirred by some emotion he drove his pen over the paper.

From the corner of his eye, Thuillier tried hard to see what la Peyrade was writing, and noticing that his sentences were separated by numbers placed between brackets, he said:--

"Tiens! are you drawing up a parliamentary law?"

"Yes," replied la Peyrade, "the law of the vanquished."

Soon after this, the porter opened the door and introduced Madame Lambert, whom he had found at home, and who arrived looking rather frightened.

"You are Madame Lambert?" asked Thuillier, magisterially.

"Yes, monsieur," said the woman, in an anxious voice.

After requesting her to be seated and noticing that the porter was still there as if awaiting further orders he said to the man:--

"That will do; you may go; and don't let any one disturb us."

The gravity and the lordly tone a.s.sumed by Thuillier only increased Madame Lambert's uneasiness. She came expecting to see only la Peyrade, and she found herself received by an unknown man with a haughty manner, while the barrister, who had merely bowed to her, said not a word; moreover, the scene took place in a newspaper office, and it is a well-known fact that to pious persons especially all that relates to the press is infernal and diabolical.

"Well," said Thuillier to the barrister, "it seems to me that nothing hinders you from explaining to madame why you have sent for her."

In order to leave no loophole for suspicion in Thuillier's mind la Peyrade knew that he must put his question bluntly and without the slightest preparation; he therefore said to her "ex abrupto":--

"We wish to ask you, madame, if it is not true that about two and a half months ago you placed in my hands, subject to interest, the sum, in round numbers, of twenty-five thousand francs."

Though she felt the eyes of Thuillier and those of la Peyrade upon her, Madame Lambert, under the shock of this question fired at her point-blank, could not restrain a start.

"Heavens!" she exclaimed, "twenty-five thousand francs! and where should I get such a sum as that?"

La Peyrade gave no sign on his face of the vexation he might be supposed to feel. As for Thuillier, who now looked at him with sorrowful commiseration, he merely said:--

"You see, my friend!"

"So," resumed la Peyrade, "you are very certain that you did not place in my hands the sum of twenty-five thousand francs; you declare this, you affirm it?"

"Why, monsieur! did you ever hear of such a sum as that in the pocket of a poor woman like me? The little that I had, as everybody knows, has gone to eke out the housekeeping of that poor dear gentleman whose servant I have been for more than twenty years."

"This," said Thuillier, pompously, "seems to me categorical."

La Peyrade still did not show the slightest sign of annoyance; on the contrary, he seemed to be playing into Thuillier's hand.

"You hear, my dear Thuillier," he said, "and if necessary I shall call for your testimony, that madame here declares that she did not possess twenty-five thousand francs and could not therefore have placed them in my hands. Now, as the notary Dupuis, in whose hands I fancied I had placed them, left Paris this morning for Brussels carrying with him the money of all his clients, I have no account with madame, by her own showing, and the absconding of the notary--"

"Has the notary Dupuis absconded?" screamed Madame Lambert, driven by this dreadful news entirely out of her usual tones of dulcet sweetness and Christian resignation. "Ah, the villain! it was only this morning that he was taking the sacrament at Saint-Jacques du Haut-Pas."

"To pray for a safe journey, probably," said la Peyrade.

"Monsieur talks lightly enough," continued Madame Lambert, "though that brigand has carried off my savings. But I gave them to monsieur, and monsieur is answerable to me for them; he is the only one I know in this transaction."

"Hey?" said la Peyrade to Thuillier, pointing to Madame Lambert, whose whole demeanor had something of the mother-wolf suddenly bereft of her cubs; "is that nature? tell me! Do you think now that madame and I are playing a comedy for your benefit?"

"I am thunderstruck at Cerizet's audacity," said Thuillier. "I am overwhelmed with my own stupidity; there is nothing for me to do but to submit myself entirely to your discretion."

"Madame," said la Peyrade, gaily, "excuse me for thus frightening you; the notary Dupuis is still a very saintly man, and quite incapable of doing an injury to his clients. As for monsieur here, it was necessary that I should prove to him that you had really placed that money in my hands; he is, however, another myself, and your secret, though known to him, is as safe as it is with me."

"Oh, very good, monsieur!" said Madame Lambert. "I suppose these gentlemen have no further need of me?"

"No, my dear madame, and I beg you to pardon me for the little terror I was compelled to occasion you."

Madame Lambert turned to leave the room with all the appearance of respectful humility, but when she reached the door, she retraced her steps, and coming close to la Peyrade said, in her smoothest tones:--

"When does monsieur expect to be able to refund me that money?"

"But I told you," said la Peyrade, stiffly, "that notaries never return on demand the money placed in their hands."

"Does monsieur think that if I went to see Monsieur Dupuis himself and asked him--"