“Here,” said Moses, “are forty thousand francs in gold. You are strong enough to carry off the box. Early to-morrow morning you will take the train for Troyes. Deposit this money with Baradier, the banker, but do not accept either bank-notes or drafts. Before long gold will be at a premium, and you will benefit by the exchange. With the capital I now place at your disposal buy sheep and cattle, and offer to supply the management with beef and mutton. Owing to the disorder in which the invasion will throw agriculture, cattle will be sold at a loss of seventy-five per cent. In the embarrassment in which the army will find itself for victuals, the contractors will sell again at a profit of cent. per cent. Do you understand the affair? Then act according to these data. If you do, by contributing to feed the troops you will be of far more service than marching in red trousers, under the orders of a stupid corporal. You, too, will be defending your country. And do not forget to betake yourself to the drug-store to-night to proclaim it aloud.”
“But suppose some one asks me in what corps I am to serve, what reply shall I give?”
“You will say, ‘I am going to Rhetel. It will be settled there.’”
“Very well, father.”
“Take hold of one of the handles of the box, and help me to mount it to the shop.”
“Leave it to me, father.”
Whereupon, seizing in both his arms the heavy box, filled with gold, he raised it on his stout shoulder, and, preceded by Moses, who held aloft his candle to light the staircase, he bore away without flinching all his father’s fortune.
The double combination conceived by Lichtenbach succeeded, as all simple ideas do. Within Metz, besieged and filled with troops, stored provisions were not long in coming to a premium. The salt Moses thought of selling at a moderate price gave him a great surprise. It proved more valuable than sugar. The want of salt caused keen suffering to the soldiers, who had become disgusted with horseflesh. The brandy, largely adulterated, also sold well. Still the old man’s profits did not recompense him for lack of news of his heir. Elias’s last letter, delivered on the evening of the Battle of Borny, announced the young man’s arrival in Paris. He had left thirty thousand francs in gold with the firm of Baradier, at Troyes, and was preparing to make for Orleans, as he did not consider himself in safety in Paris, which would infallibly soon be blockaded.
He had introduced five thousand sheep into the town. But he did not consider it necessary to continue business with the Government, which was too economical and avaricious. After the 14th of August not a word did the old man receive. During those long, sleepless nights, whilst listening to the cannon of Saint Julien or of Plappeville thundering away at long intervals, the old man reflected bitterly that his son was very young and inexperienced, that he might be robbed, and that the sum he had entrusted to him represented twenty years’ wanderings along the roads of Lorraine, buying up all the old iron in the province. Still, he had the consolation of thinking that Elias was not taking part in the terrible and bloody battles, doleful and desperate tidings of which came across the outposts right to the besieged town. He saw his neighbours and clients pass along with bowed heads, wondering uneasily, and asking one another—
“What news? Have you heard anything of your son? Where is he? If only all our boys are not dead!”