“Forgive me, I must have been mad. When the lawyer told me before Gaujean that the posters would be put up tomorrow, I saw flames dancing before me as if the walls were burning. After that I remember nothing else. I came down the Rue de la Michodière—it seemed that The Paradise people were laughing at me, that immense house seemed to crush me. So, when the omnibus came up, I thought of Lhomme and his arm, and threw myself underneath the omnibus.”
Madame Robineau had slowly fallen on to the floor, horrified by this confession. Heavens! he had tried to kill himself. She seized the hand of her young friend, who leant over towards her quite overcome. The wounded man, exhausted by emotion, had just fainted away again; and the doctor not having arrived, two men went all over the neighbourhood for him. The doorkeeper belonging to the house had gone off in his turn to look for him.
“Pray, don't be anxious,” repeated Denise, mechanically, herself also sobbing.
Then Madame Robineau, seated on the floor, with her head against the stretcher, her cheek placed on the mattress where her husband was lying, relieved her heart “Oh! I must tell you. It's all for me he wanted to die. He's always saying, 'I've robbed you; it was not my money.' And at night he dreams of this money, waking up covered with perspiration, calling himself an incapable fellow, saying that those who have no head for business ought not to risk other people's money. You know he has always been nervous, his brain tormented. He finished by conjuring up things that frightened me. He saw me in the street in tatters, begging, his darling wife, whom he loved so tenderly, whom he longed to see rich and happy.” But on turning round, she noticed he had opened his eyes; and she continued in a trembling voice: “My darling, why have you done this? You must think me very wicked! I assure you, I don't care if we are ruined. So long as we are together, we shall never be unhappy. Let them take everything, and we will go away somewhere, where you won't hear any more about them. You can still work; you'll see how happy we shall be!”
She placed her forehead near her husband's pale face, and both were silent, in the emotion of their anguish. There was a pause. The shop seemed to be sleeping, benumbed by the pale night which enveloped it; whilst behind the thin shutters could be heard the noises of the street, the life of the busy city, the rumble of the vehicles, and the hustling and pushing of the passing crowd. At last Denise, who went every minute to glance through the hall door, came back, exclaiming: “Here's the doctor!”
He was a young fellow, with bright eyes, whom the doorkeeper had found and brought in. He preferred to examine the poor man before they put him to bed. Only one of his legs, the left one, was broken above the ankle; it was a simple fracture, no serious complication appeared likely to result from it. And they were about to carry the stretcher into the back-room when Gaujean arrived. He came to give them an account of a last attempt to settle matters, an attempt which had failed; the declaration of bankruptcy was definite.
“Dear me,” murmured he, “what's the matter?”
In a few words, Denise informed him. Then he stopped, feeling rather awkward, while Robineau said, in a feeble voice: “I don't bear you any ill-will, but all this is partly your fault.”
“Well, my dear fellow,” replied Gaujean, “it wanted stronger men than us. You know I'm not in a much better state than you.”
They raised the stretcher; Robineau still found strength to say: “No, no, stronger fellows than us would have given way as we have. I can understand such obstinate old men as Bourras and Baudu standing out, but you and I, who are young, who had accepted the new style of things! No, Gaujean, it's the last of a world.”