blameworthy action,
nevertheless belonged to all those criminalities
in
embryo, Maitre Mathias felt neither sorrow nor
generousindignation. He was not the Misanthrope; he was an old notary,
accustomed in his business to the
shrewd calculations of worldly
people, to those clever bits of
treachery which do more fatal injury
than open murder on the high-road
committed by some poor devil, who is
guillotined in
consequence. To the upper classes of society these
passages in life, these
diplomatic meetings and
discussions are like
the necessary cesspools where the filth of life is thrown. Full of
pity for his
client, Mathias cast a foreseeing eye into the future and
saw nothing good.
"We'll take the field with the same weapons," thought he, "and beat
them."
At this moment, Paul, Solonet and Madame Evangelista, becoming
embarrassed by the old man's silence, felt that the
approval of that
censor was necessary to carry out the transaction, and all three
turned to him simultaneously.
"Well, my dear Monsieur Mathias, what do you think of it?" said Paul.
"This is what I think," said the
conscientious and uncompromising
notary. "You are not rich enough to
commit such regal folly. The
estate of Lanstrac, if estimated at three per cent on its rentals,
represents, with its furniture, one million.; the farms of Grassol and
Guadet and your
vineyard of Belle-Rose are worth another million; your
two houses in Bordeaux and Paris, with their furniture, a third
million. Against those three millions, yielding forty-seven thousand
francs a year, Mademoiselle Natalie brings eight hundred thousand
francs in the Five-per-cents, the diamonds (supposing them to be worth
a hundred thousand francs, which is still problematical) and fifty
thousand francs in money; in all, one million and fifty thousand
francs. In presence of such facts my brother notary tells you
boastfully that we are marrying equal fortunes! He expects us to
encumber ourselves with a debt of eleven hundred and fifty-six
thousand francs to our children by acknowledging the
receipt of our
wife's patrimony, when we have
actually" target="_blank" title="ad.事实上;实际上">
actually received but little more than
a
doubtful million. You are listening to such stuff with the rapture
of a lover, and you think that old Mathias, who is not in love, can
forget
arithmetic, and will not point out the difference between
landed
estate, the
actual value of which is
enormous and constantly
increasing, and the revenues of personal property, the capital of
which is subject to fluctuations and diminishment of
income. I am old
enough to have
learned that money dwindles and land augments. You have
called me in, Monsieur le comte, to stipulate for your interests;
either let me defend those interests, or
dismiss me."
"If
monsieur is seeking a fortune equal in capital to his own," said
Solonet, "we certainly cannot give it to him. We do not possess three
millions and a half; nothing can be more
evident. While you can boast
of your three
overwhelming millions, we can only produce our poor one
million,--a mere nothing in your eyes, though three times the dowry of
an archduchess of Austria. Bonaparte received only two hundred and
fifty thousand francs with Maria-Louisa."
"Maria-Louisa was the ruin of Bonaparte," muttered Mathias.
Natalie's mother caught the words.
"If my sacrifices are worth nothing," she cried, "I do not choose to
continue such a
discussion; I trust to the
discretion of Monsieur le
comte, and I
renounce the honor of his hand for my daughter."
According to the
strategy marked out by the younger notary, this
battle of contending interests had now reached the point where victory
was certain for Madame Evangelista. The mother-in-law had opened her
heart, delivered up her property, and was
therefore practically
released as her daughter's
guardian. The future husband, under pain of
ignoring the laws of
generouspropriety and being false to love, ought
now to accept these conditions
previously planned, and cleverly led up
to by Solonet and Madame Evangelista. Like the hands of a clock turned
by
mechanism, Paul came
faithfully up to time.
"Madame!" he exclaimed, "is it possible you can think of breaking off
the marriage?"
"Monsieur," she replied, "to whom am I
accountable? To my daughter.
When she is twenty-one years of age she will receive my
guardianship
account and
release me. She will then possess a million, and can, if
she likes, choose her husband among the sons of the peers of France.
She is a daughter of the Casa-Reale."
"Madame is right," remarked Solonet. "Why should she be more hardly
pushed to-day than she will be fourteen months hence? You ought not to