Marcel carelessly took the journal. Without even glancing at it, he laid it on the desk.
“Is that all the interest you take in the matter?” exclaimed the uncle. “You are not inquisitive about the effect produced by Marigot’s official communication? Very well, I will tell you what he says. The Globe has given up a whole column to the discovery, which it states is an important one, and it predicts, within a short date, a revolution in the use of motive power. On the other hand, the Panache Blanc, Lichtenbach’s journal, is dead against the invention, which it qualifies as a shamefaced imitation, insinuating that it is simply the Dalgetty process, without the slightest change in the doses of the products.”
“What a brazen falsehood!” Marcel exclaimed, unable to restrain himself.
“Here is something better. At the Bourse a rumour has got abroad that the Explosives Company is in possession of the Trémont patents, and the shares have begun to mount, in spite of the desperate efforts of the bears. Accordingly, our situation is saved, and, on the other hand, that of Lichtenbach seems to be in a terrible pass!”
“You do not expect me to get excited over that?”
“I do not, indeed. But your father, who for the past three months has hardly been able to sleep, is now happy and smiling. He has just gone to Aubervilliers to examine a plot of land, covering seven acres, which has been offered to us, and which would be the very spot for constructing the works necessary. He is especially pleased at owing this result to you. Though not very expansive, he is enthusiastic and warm-hearted, and exceedingly proud to be obliged to confess that you are so gifted. Up to the present, it is Trémont that has been mentioned, but, when it is known that it is you who brought the affair to its completion, and your name is in everybody’s mouth, as soon will be the case, then you will see your father expand.”
Marcel made no reply. He walked to and fro in the study, with so absent-minded an air that Graff exclaimed—
“What a strange fellow you are! And yet you must be well pleased with what I have been telling you. Though you will scarcely listen to me. What is the matter with you?”
The young man shook his head, and, with an attempt at a smile, said—
“There is nothing the matter with me, Uncle Graff. What do you expect me to say?”