“I have not a copper; he sends me word by the bailiff, that not having paid the bill, I shall not have the last thousand francs.”
“Then let us go to him, and entreat him to leave you at liberty. It was he who came to propose to lend you this money. I know it well, as he first addressed himself to me. He will have pity on you.”
“Pity?—a money broker pity? No! no!”
“Is there then no hope? none?” cried Cephyse clasping her hands in anguish. “But there must be something done,” she resumed. “He promised you!”
“You can see how he keeps his promises,” answered Jacques, with bitterness. “I signed, without even knowing what I signed. The bill is over-due; everything is in order, it would be vain to resist. They have just explained all that to me.”
“But they cannot keep you long in prison. It is impossible.”
“Five years, if I do not pay. As I’ll never be able to do so, my fate is certain.”
“Oh! what a misfortune! and not to be able to do anything!” said Cephyse, hiding her face in her hands.
“Listen to me, Cephyse,” resumed Jacques, in a voice of mournful emotion; “since I am here, I have thought only of one thing—what is to become of you?”
“Never mind me!”