THE COMPLETE WORKS OF ÉMILE ZOLA. Эмиль Золя
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He found M. Martelly and Abbé Chastanier in the drawingroom. The shipowner was pale and his eyes were sparkling with anger. He came straight to the clerk and speaking rapidly, said to him:
“You are a straightforward and courageous young man, and I thought I would not act in such a serious matter as this without asking your advice.”
Abbé Chastanier appeared sad and ashamed. He made himself quite small in an armchair, his poor hands trembling with age and grief.
“I have just had this gentleman’s visit,” continued M. Martelly to Marius, pointing out the old priest, “and have received information of a plot that has quite upset me.”
“Be calm for mercy’s sake,” interrupted the priest, “do not make me repent having done my duty as an upright man, in coming to set you on your guard. I may have been unnecessarily alarmed.”
“You would not be here, sir, if your suspicions were not based on certitude. I thank you for your visit; I understand the feelings of dignity that have brought you to my house, and I even understand the final effort you are making to protect the infamous — “
The shipowner turned to Marius and continued in a bitter tone:
“Only fancy, a priest is trying, at this moment, to dishonour me. This gentleman has just told me to watch over Claire. He has informed me with many omissions that Abbé Donadéi exercises a dangerous influence over her and that he fears Ah! if that wretch has tarnished the child’s purity, I’ll kill him like a dog!”
Abbé Chastanier hung his head. He did not regret the steps he had taken, he had acted as an upright man; but he was quite overcome at M. Martelly’s explosion of anger. He suffered as much as if he had been guilty himself: he felt ashamed for the entire Church.
The shipowner became a little more calm, and after a few moments’ silence continued:
“I did not want to come to a decision before consulting a quiet and intelligent man, and I sent for you, Marius. My first impulse was to run to this priest and smack him in the face. There is perhaps another course to pursue that would be better.”
Marius had listened quietly to his principal and this somewhat tranquillized Abbé Chastanier. The young man who had his answer all ready, was not thinking of Donadéi; he was wondering how he could solicit a loan. At that moment he heard M. Martelly say to him in a loud voice:
“Come, in my place, what would you do?”
The young man smiled:
“I would do what I have already done,” he answered simply, and he gave an account of Clairon’s elopement. From the first words, as soon as the young man had spoken of the interview he had had with Claire about the prayer-book, M. Martelly pressed his hands effusively. The certitude that his sister had not dreamt of the peril through which she had passed gave him great joy. He became quite gay when he had heard the whole account of the adventure, and even Abbé Chastanier could not restrain a sad smile.
“I should not have confessed to you,” concluded Marius, “the part I had taken in this mystification if you had remained in ignorance of the danger threatening you. I merely wished to reassure you.”
“Do not try to escape my gratitude,” exclaimed the shipowner. “I already looked on you as an adopted son, and you have just rendered me so great a service that I really do not know how to recompense you.”
Speaking thus he took Marius aside and then gave him a kind and encouraging look in the face.
“Have you no secret to tell me?” he inquired in an undertone.
Marius became troubled.
“You are a great child,” continued M. Martelly. “Fortunately I saw Mademoiselle Fine during your illness; otherwise I should still be in ignorance. Wait, I’ll sign you a draft for fifteen thousand francs which you can encash, at once, in the counting-house if you wish.”
Marius on hearing the shipowner’s generous offer was spellbound to the spot. He turned pale and inexpressible emotion filled his eyes with great tears. He felt like choking and was afraid of bursting out into sobs.
Eh! What! He was suddenly offered this money which he had been seeking for in despair for so many months! He had asked for nothing and his dearest wishes were satisfied! He thought he must be dreaming.
M. Martelly had gone towards a table. He sat down and was preparing to write out an order on his firm. But before doing so he raised his head and simply said to Marius:
“It’s fifteen thousand francs that you require, is it not?”
This question drew the young man from his stupor. He joined his hands and said in a trembling voice:
“How is it you know my secret thoughts? What have I done that you should be so good and generous?”
The shipowner smiled:
“I will not say to you, as they do to children, that my little finger has told me all, but, in truth I received the visit of a fairy. Have I not already confessed it to you? Mademoiselle Fine came to see me.”
The young man at last understood. He thanked warmly, from the bottom of his heart, the good angel who, while saving him from death, had worked to bring him tranquillity and hope. He now understood the flower-girl’s placid, smiling countenance, when he had spoken to her of Philippe. She was certain of the prisoner’s safety, she had accomplished all alone, the whole of the hard work connected with raising a loan. Marius hardly knew if he ought to throw himself at M. Martelly’s feet or at Fine’s. He was overcome with gratitude.
The shipowner was delighted to see his clerk’s countenance lit up with joy. His eyes met those of Abbé Chastanier who had remained seated and the two men understood each other: the freethinker, the republican, as well as the priest, experienced the joy of doing good, the delicious sensation of making another happy, and of being present to see that happiness.
“But,” exclaimed Marius, amidst his delight, “I do not know when I shall be able to refund you so large a sum.”
“Do not let that trouble you,” answered the shipowner. “You have rendered me great services, you have, perhaps, just saved me from dishonour. Allow me to oblige you without it being a question of refunding between us.”
And as a sort of gloom passed across Marius’ forehead, he took his hand and added:
“I do not mean to pay you for your devotedness, my friend. I know there are some debts that cannot be settled with money. I beg you to look at the matter in a different light: you have been with me for the last ten years, and I trust you will remain much longer; well! the fifteen thousand francs I am about to give you are a gratuity, a small share in the profits I have made with your help. You cannot refuse.”
M. Martelly bent forward to sign the order when Marius stopped him again.
“Do you know the use I am going to make of this money?” he inquired, with some concern.
The shipowner laid down his pen, annoyed and rather pale.
“Good heavens!” he exclaimed, “how difficult it is to oblige straightforward people! They compel you to know everything. But for mercy’s sake do not make me your accomplice. I am aware you are a good fellow, a devoted and affectionate soul. That is all. I have no need to know about all your acts and all your thoughts. You will never do a bad action, will you? That’s quite enough for me.”
M. Martelly obedient to a scruple which was quite reasonable, wished to appear ignorant that the money he was giving Marius was going to purchase a conscience. But apart from that, he lent a willing hand to Philippe’s escape, being aware of the arms M. de Cazalis had made use of to imprison the young man. However, in principle, he wished to preserve his republican austerity intact, he had made up his mind that he would not openly be an accomplice of the escape.
Marius insisted. Then Abbé Chastanier intervened with that blind sentiment of charity, that always made him accept