“That’s a fact,” said another. “But we will have the precious advantage of hearing that dear baron condemned to one year’s imprisonment, and a fine of fifty francs. That’s the regular rate. He wouldn’t get off so cheap, if he had stolen a loaf of bread from a baker.”
“Do you believe that story about the judge?” interrupted rudely the big man.
They had to believe it, when they saw him appear, followed by a commissary of police and a porter, carrying on his back a load of books and papers. They stood aside to let them pass; but there was no time to make any comments, as another clerk appeared immediately who said,
“M. de Thaller is at your command, gentlemen. Please walk in.”
There was then a terrible jamming and pushing to see who would get first into the directors’ room, which stood wide open.
M. de Thaller was standing against the mantel-piece, neither paler nor more excited than usual, but like a man who feels sure of himself and of his means of action. As soon as silence was restored,
“First of all, gentlemen,” he began, “I must tell you that the board of directors is about to meet, and that a general meeting of the stockholders will be called.”
Not a murmur. As at the touch of a magician’s wand, the dispositions of the shareholders seemed to have changed.
“I have nothing new to inform you of,” he went on. “What happened is a misfortune, but not a disaster. The thing to do was to save the company; and I had first thought of calling for funds.”
“Well,” said two or three timid voices, “If it was absolutely necessary—”