“Well, my dear Cayrol,” said the Prince, gayly, “what good fortune has brought you here?”
“If it is fortune, it is certainly not good fortune,” answered the banker, gravely. “I wish to have some talk with you, and I shall be grateful if you will listen patiently.”
“Oh! oh!” said Serge. “How serious you are. You have some heavy payments on hand, and want a little help, eh? I will speak to Herzog.”
Cayrol looked at the Prince in amazement. So he did not suspect anything? Such carelessness and negligence frightened him. The banker resolved to proceed clearly, and without beating about the bush; to do away with such blind confidence a thunderbolt was necessary.
“I have not come about my business, but yours,” returned Cayrol. “The Universal Credit Company is on the eve of disaster; there is still time for you to withdraw safely and soundly from the sinking wreck. I bring you the means.”
Serge laughed.
“Thank you, Cayrol; you are very kind, my friend. I know your intentions are good, but I don’t believe a word you are saying. You have come from Madame Desvarennes. You are both agreed that I shall give up the Universal Credit, but I will not yield to any pressure. I know what I am doing. Be easy.”
And quietly lighting another cigarette, he gracefully puffed the smoke toward the ceiling. Cayrol did not trouble to argue, but took a newspaper from his pocket and handed it to Panine, simply saying, “Read!”
It was an article in a reliable financial paper prophesying the failure of the Universal Credit Company, and basing its statements on irrefutable calculations. Serge took the paper and looked over it. He turned pale and crushed it in his hand.
“What infamy!” cried he. “I know our adversaries are enraged. Yes, they know that our new company is destined to crush them in the future, and they are doing all they can to run us aground. Jealousy! Envy! There is no other foundation for these rumors, and they are unworthy a serious man’s attention.”