The Chevalier laid down his cigarette and read. “Diable!” he said, when he returned the letter and resumed the cigarette—“Diable! Louvier must be much pressed for money, or he would not have written in this strain. What does it matter? Collot owes you more than 7000 louis. Let your lawyer get them, and go to sleep with both ears on your pillow.”
“Ah! you think Collot can pay if he will?”
“Ah! foi! did not M. Gandrin tell you that M. Collot was safe to buy your wood at more money than any one else would give?”
“Certainly,” said Alain, comforted. “Gandrin left that impression on my mind. I will set him on the man. All will come right, I dare say; but if it does not come right, what would Louvier do?”
“Louvier do!” answered Finisterre, reflectively. “Well do you ask my opinion and advice?”
“Earnestly, I ask.”
“Honestly, then, I answer. I am a little on the Bourse myself—most Parisians are. Louvier has made a gigantic speculation in this new street, and with so many other irons in the fire he must want all the money he can get at. I dare say that if you do not pay him what you owe, he must leave it to his agent to take steps for announcing the sale of Rochebriant. But he detests scandal; he hates the notion of being severe; rather than that, in spite of his difficulties, he will buy Rochebriant of you at a better price than it can command at public sale. Sell it to him. Appeal to him to act generously, and you will flatter him. You will get more than the old place is worth. Invest the surplus—live as you have done, or better—and marry an heiress. Morbleu! a Marquis de Rochebriant, if he were sixty years old, would rank high in the matrimonial market. The more the democrats have sought to impoverish titles and laugh down historical names, the more do rich democrat fathers-in-law seek to decorate their daughters with titles and give their grandchildren the heritage of historical names. You look shocked, pauvre anti. Let us hope, then, that Collot will pay. Set your dog—I mean your lawyer—at him; seize him by the throat!”
Before Alain had recovered from the stately silence with which he had heard this very practical counsel, the valet again appeared, and ushered in M. Frederic Lemercier.
There was no cordial acquaintance between the visitors. Lemercier was chafed at finding himself supplanted in Alain’s intimate companionship by so new a friend, and De Finisterre affected to regard Lemercier as a would-be exquisite of low birth and bad taste.
Alain, too, was a little discomposed at the sight of Lemercier, remembering the wise cautious which that old college friend had wasted on him at the commencement of his Parisian career, and smitten with vain remorse that the cautions had been so arrogantly slighted.