“Wretch!”
It was Mademoiselle Marguerite who put an end to this indecent dispute. Its increasing violence had aroused her from her stupor. Casimir’s impudence brought a flush to her forehead, and stepping forward with haughty resolution, she exclaimed: “You forget that one never raises one’s voice in the chamber of death.” Her words were so true, and her manner so majestic, that M. Casimir was silenced. Then, pointing to the door, she coldly added: “Go for the justice of the peace, and don’t set foot here again, except in his company.”
He bowed, stammered an unintelligible apology, and left the room. “She always gets the best of me,” he growled, as he went downstairs. “But seals shall be put on everything.”
When he entered the porter’s lodge, M. Bourigeau was just getting up, having slept all night, while his wife watched. “Quick,” ordered M. Casimir; “make haste and finish dressing, and run for the justice of the peace—we must have him here at once. Everything must be done regularly and in order, upstairs.”
The concierge was in despair. “Heavens!” he exclaimed; “so the master’s dead! What a misfortune!”
“You may well say so; and this is the second time such a thing has happened to me. I remember now what a shrewd fellow named Chupin once said to me. ‘If I were a servant,’ he remarked, ‘before entering a man’s service, I’d make him insure his life for my benefit in one of those new-fangled companies, so that I might step into a handsome fortune if he took it into his head to die.’ But make haste, Bourigeau.”
“That’s a famous idea, but scarcely practicable,” growled the concierge.
“I don’t know whether it is or not. But at all events I’m terribly annoyed. The count was giving me enormous wages, and I had got him nicely into my ways. Well, after all, I shall only have to begin again!”
M. Bourigeau had not yet attained to the heights of such serene philosophy, and as he buttoned his overcoat, he groaned: “Ah! you’re not situated as I am, Casimir. You’ve only yourself to look out for. I have my furniture; and if I don’t succeed in finding a position where I can have two rooms, I shall be obliged to sell part of it. What a blessed nuisance!”
As soon as he was dressed he started off on his mission; and M. Casimir, who dared not return to the house, began walking slowly to and fro in front of the lodge. He had made some thirty turns or so, and was beginning to feel impatient, when he saw Victor Chupin approaching. “You are always on hand at the right moment,” remarked M. Casimir. “It’s all over!”