The doctor looked aghast. “Are you mad?” cried he. “Toto will accuse you.”
“Very likely, but by that time poor old Tantaine will be dead and buried. Then Mascarin will disappear, our faithful Beaumarchef will be in the United States, and we can afford to laugh at the police.”
“It seems like a success,” said the doctor, “but push on for mercy’s sake; all these delays and fluctuations will make me seriously ill.”
The two worthy associates held this conversation in a doorway, anxious to be sure that Flavia had kept her promise. In a brief space of time they saw her come out of the house and move in the direction of her father’s bank.
“Now,” said Tantaine, “I can go in peace, doctor; farewell for the present;” and without waiting for a reply he was walking rapidly away when he was stopped by Beaumarchef, who came up breathless and barred his passage.
“I was looking for you,” cried he; “the Marquis de Croisenois is in the office and is swearing at me like anything.”
“Go back to the office and tell the Marquis that the master will soon be with him;” and thus speaking, Tantaine disappeared down a court by the side of Martin Rigal’s house.
The Marquis was striding up and down the office, every now and then discharging a rumbling cannonade of oaths. “Fine business people,” remarked he, “to make an appointment and then not to keep it!” He checked himself; for the door of the inner office slowly opened, and Mascarin appeared on the threshold. “Punctuality,” said he, “does not consist in coming before, but at the time appointed.”
The Marquis was cowed at once, and followed Mascarin into the sanctum and watched him with curious gaze as the redoubtable head of the association seemed to be searching for something among the papers on his desk. When Mascarin had found what he was in search of, he turned and addressed the Marquis.
“I desired to see you,” said he, “with reference to the great financial enterprise which you are to launch almost immediately.”