“I will do all you wish, father.”
“Mademoiselle,” said the notary, “it is my duty to point out to you that you are despoiling yourself without guarantee—”
“Good heavens! what is all that to me?”
“Hold your tongue, Cruchot! It’s settled, all settled,” cried Grandet, taking his daughter’s hand and striking it with his own. “Eugenie, you won’t go back on your word?—you are an honest girl, hein?”
“Oh! father!—”
He kissed her effusively, and pressed her in his arms till he almost choked her.
“Go, my good child, you restore your father’s life; but you only return to him that which he gave you: we are quits. This is how business should be done. Life is a business. I bless you! you are a virtuous girl, and you love your father. Do just what you like in future. To-morrow, Cruchot,” he added, looking at the horrified notary, “you will see about preparing the deed of relinquishment, and then enter it on the records of the court.”
The next morning Eugenie signed the papers by which she herself completed her spoliation. At the end of the first year, however, in spite of his bargain, the old man had not given his daughter one sou of the hundred francs he had so solemnly pledged to her. When Eugenie pleasantly reminded him of this, he could not help coloring, and went hastily to his secret hiding-place, from whence he brought down about a third of the jewels he had taken from his nephew, and gave them to her.
“There, little one,” he said in a sarcastic tone, “do you want those for your twelve hundred francs?”
“Oh! father, truly? will you really give them to me?”