SLAVES OF PARIS (Complete Edition). Emile Gaboriau
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Do you not see that the future is full of promise?”
“I loved Rose,” returned Paul, and his voice was so full of pathos that Mascarin could hardly repress a smile. “But this is not all,” continued the unhappy boy, making a vain effort to restrain his tears; “I am accused of theft.”
“Impossible!” exclaimed Mascarin.
“Yes, sir; and you who know everything are the only person in the world who can save me. You were so kind to me yesterday that I ventured to come here before the time appointed, in order to entreat your help.”
“But what do you think I can do?”
“Everything, sir; but let me tell you the whole hideous complication.”
Mascarin’s face assumed an air of the deepest interest, as he answered, “Go on.”
“After our interview,” began Paul, “I went back to the Hotel de Perou, and on the mantelpiece in my garret found this note from Rose.”
He held it out as he spoke, but Mascarin made no effort to take it.
“In it,” resumed Paul, “Rose tells me she no longer loves me, and begs me not to seek to see her again; and also that, wearied out of poverty, she has accepted the offer of unlimited supplies of money, a carriage, and diamonds.”
“Are you surprised at this?” asked Mascarin, with a sneer.
“How could I anticipate such an infidelity, when only the evening before she swore by all she held most sacred that she loved me only? Why did she lie to me? Did she write to make the blow fall heavier? When I ascended the staircase, I was picturing to myself her joy when I told her of your kind promises to me. For more than an hour I remained in my garret, overwhelmed with the terrible thought that I should never see her again.”
Mascarin watched Paul attentively, and came to the conclusion that his words were too fine for his grief to be sincere.
“But what about the accusation of theft?”
“I am coming to that,” returned the young man. “I then determined to obey your injunctions and leave the Hotel de Perou, with which I was more than ever disgusted. I went downstairs to settle with Madame Loupins, when ah! hideous disgrace! As I handed her the two weeks’ rent, she asked me with a contemptuous sneer, where I had stolen the money from?”
Mascarin secretly chuckled over the success of his plans thus announced by Paul.
“What did you say?” asked he.
“Nothing, sir; I was too horror-stricken; the man Loupins came up, and both he and his wife scowled at me threateningly. After a short pause, they asserted that they were perfectly sure that Rose and I had robbed M. Tantaine.”
“But did you not deny this monstrous charge?”
“I was utterly bewildered, for I saw that every circumstance was against me. The evening before, Rose, in reply to Madame Loupin’s importunities, had told her that she had no money, and did not know where to get any. But, as you perceive, on the very next day I appeared in a suit of new clothes, and was prepared to pay my debts, while Rose had left the house some hours before. Does not all this form a chain of strange coincidences? Rose changed the five hundred franc note that Tantaine had lent me at the shop of a grocer, named Melusin, and this suspicious fool was the first to raise a cry against us, and dared to assert that a detective had been ordered to watch us.”
Mascarin knew all this story better than Paul, but here he interrupted his young friend.
“I do not understand you,” said he, “nor whether your grief arises from indignation or remorse. Has there been a robbery?”
“How can I tell? I have never seen M. Tantaine from that day. There is a rumor that he has been plundered and important papers taken from him, and that he has consequently been arrested.”
“Why did you not explain the facts?”
“It would have been of no use. It would clearly prove that Tantaine was no friend of mine, not even an acquaintance, and they would have laughed me to scorn had I declared that the evening before he came into my room and made me a present of five hundred francs.”
“I think that I can solve the riddle,” remarked Mascarin. “I know the old fellow so well.”
Paul listened with breathless eagerness.
“Tantaine,” resumed Mascarin, “is the best and kindest fellow in the world, but he is not quite right in the upper story. He was a wealthy man once, but his liberality was his ruin. He is as poor as a church-mouse now, but he is as anxious as ever to be charitable. Unfortunately in the place I procured for him he had a certain amount of petty cash at his disposal, and moved to pity at the sight of your sufferings, he gave you the money that really belonged to others. Then he sent in his accounts, and the deficiency was discovered. He lost his head, and declared that he had been robbed. You lived in the next room; you were known to be in abject poverty on the one day and in ample funds on the next; hence these suspicions.”
All was too clear to Paul, and a cold shiver ran through his frame as he saw himself arrested, tried, and condemned.
“But,” stammered he, “M. Tantaine holds my note of hand, which is a proof that I acted honestly.”
“My poor boy, do you think that if he hoped to save himself at your expense he would produce it?”
“Luckily, sir, you know the real state of the case.”
Mascarin shook is head.
“Would my story be credited?” asked he. “Justice is not infallible, and I must confess that appearances are against you.”
Paul was crushed down beneath this weight of argument. “There is no resource for me then but death,” murmured he, “for I will not live a dishonored man.”
The conduct of Paul was precisely what Mascarin had expected, and he felt that the moment had arrived to strike a final blow.
“You must not give way to despair, my boy,” said he.
But Paul made no reply; he had lost the power of hearing. Mascarin, however, had no time to lose, and taking him by the arm, shook him roughly. “Rouse yourself. A man in your position must help himself, and bring forward proofs of his innocence.”
“There is no use in fighting,” replied Paul. “Have you not just shown me that it is hopeless to endeavor to prove my innocence?”
Mascarin grew impatient at this unnecessary exhibition of cowardice, but he concealed his feelings as best he could.
“No, no,” answered he; “I only wished to show you the worst side of the affair.”
“There is only one side.”
“Not so, for it is only a supposition that Tantaine had made away with money entrusted to him, and we are not certain of it. And we only surmise that he has been arrested, and thrown the blame on you. Before giving up the game, would it not be best to be satisfied on these points?”
Paul felt a little reassured.
“I say nothing,” continued Mascarin, “of the influence I exercise over Tantaine, and which may enable me to compel him to confess the truth.”
Weak natures like Paul’s are raised in a moment from the lowest depths of depression to the highest pitch of exultation, and he already considered that he was saved.
“Shall I ever be able to prove my gratitude to you?” said he impulsively.
Mascarin’s face assumed a paternal expression.
“Perhaps you may,” answered he; “and as a commencement you must entirely forget the past. Daylight dispels the hideous visions of the night. I offer you a fresh lease of life; will you become a new man?”
Paul heaved a deep sigh. “Rose,” he murmured; “I cannot forget her.”