died, those daughters of his would not pay me a
farthing, and his
things won't fetch ten francs. This morning he went out with all
the spoons and forks he has left, I don't know why. He had got
himself up to look quite young, and--Lord,
forgive me--but I
thought he had rouge on his cheeks; he looked quite young again."
"I will be responsible," said Eugene, shuddering with
horror, for
he foresaw the end.
He climbed the stairs and reached Father Goriot's room. The old
man was tossing on his bed. Bianchon was with him.
"Good-evening, father," said Eugene.
The old man turned his
glassy eyes on him, smiled
gently, and
said:
"How is SHE?"
"She is quite well. But how are you?"
"There is nothing much the matter."
"Don't tire him," said Bianchon,
drawing Eugene into a corner of
the room.
"Well?" asked Rastignac.
"Nothing but a
miracle can save him now. Serous congestion has
set in; I have put on
mustard plasters, and luckily he can feel
them, they are acting."
"Is it possible to move him?"
"Quite out of the question. He must stay where he is, and be kept
as quiet as possible----"
"Dear Bianchon," said Eugene, "we will nurse him between us."
"I have had the head
physician round from my hospital to see
him."
"And what did he say?"
"He will give no opinion till to-morrow evening. He promised to
look in again at the end of the day. Unluckily, the preposterous
creature must needs go and do something foolish this morning; he
will not say what it was. He is as
obstinate as a mule. As soon
as I begin to talk to him he pretends not to hear, and lies as if
he were asleep instead of answering, or if he opens his eyes he
begins to groan. Some time this morning he went out on foot in
the streets, nobody knows where he went, and he took everything
that he had of any value with him. He has been driving some
confounded
bargain, and it has been too much for his strength.
One of his daughters has been here."
"Was it the Countess?" asked Eugene. "A tall, dark-haired woman,
with large bright eyes,
slender figure, and little feet?"
"Yes."
"Leave him to me for a bit," said Rastignac. "I will make him
confess; he will tell me all about it."
"And
meanwhile I will get my dinner. But try not to
excite him;
there is still some hope left."
"All right."
"How they will enjoy themselves to-morrow," said Father Goriot
when they were alone. "They are going to a grand ball."
"What were you doing this morning, papa, to make yourself so
poorly this evening that you have to stop in bed?"
"Nothing."
"Did not Anastasie come to see you?" demanded Rastignac.
"Yes," said Father Goriot.
"Well, then, don't keep anything from me. What more did she want
of you?"
"Oh, she was very
miserable," he answered,
gathering up all his
strength to speak. "It was this way, my boy. Since that affair of
the diamonds, Nasie has not had a penny of her own. For this ball
she had ordered a golden gown like a
setting for a jewel. Her
mantuamaker, a woman without a
conscience, would not give her
credit, so Nasie's waiting-woman
advanced a thousand francs on
account. Poor Nasie! reduced to such shifts! It cut me to the
heart to think of it! But when Nasie's maid saw how things were
between her master and
mistress, she was afraid of losing her
money, and came to an understanding with the
dressmaker, and the
woman refuses to send the ball-dress until the money is paid. The
gown is ready, and the ball is to-morrow night! Nasie was in
despair. She wanted to borrow my forks and spoons to pawn them.
Her husband is determined that she shall go and wear the
diamonds, so as to
contradict the stories that are told all over
Paris. How can she go to that heartless
scoundrel and say, 'I owe
a thousand francs to my
dressmaker; pay her for me!' She cannot.
I saw that myself. Delphine will be there too in a superb
toilette, and Anastasie ought not to be outshone by her younger
sister. And then--she was drowned in tears, poor girl! I felt so