“Let us go below,” said the old merchant, taking the arm of the young man.
It was half-past eleven when they left Cesar to the care of his wife and daughter. Just at that moment Celestin, the head-clerk, to whom the management of the house had been left during this secret tumult, came up to the appartement and entered the salon. Hearing his step, Cesarine ran to meet him, that he might not see the prostration of his master.
“Among the letters this evening there was one from Tours, which was misdirected and therefore delayed. I thought it might be from monsieur’s brother, so I did not open it.”
“Father!” cried Cesarine; “a letter from my uncle at Tours!”
“Ah, I am saved!” cried Cesar. “My brother! oh, my brother!” He kissed the letter, as he broke the seal, and read it aloud to his wife and daughter in a trembling voice:—
Answer of Francois to Cesar Birotteau.
Tours, 10th.
My beloved Brother,—Your letter gave me the deepest pain. As soon
as I had read it, I went at once and offered to God the holy
sacrifice of the Mass, imploring Him by the blood which His Son,
our divine Redeemer, shed for us, to look with mercy upon your
afflictions. At the moment when I offered the prayer Pro meo
fratre Caesare, my eyes were filled with tears as I thought of
you,—from whom, unfortunately, I am separated in these days when
you must sorely need the support of fraternal friendship. I have
thought that the worthy and venerable Monsieur Pillerault would
doubtless replace me. My dear Cesar, never forget, in the midst of
your troubles, that this life is a scene of trial, and is passing
away; that one day we shall be rewarded for having suffered for
the holy name of God, for His holy Church, for having followed the
teachings of His Gospel and practised virtue. If it were
otherwise, this world would have no meaning. I repeat to you these
maxims, though I know how good and pious you are, because it may
happen that those who, like you, are flung into the storms of life
upon the perilous waves of human interests might be tempted to
utter blasphemies in the midst of their adversity,—carried away
as they are by anguish. Curse neither the men who injure you nor
the God who mingles, at His will, your joy with bitterness. Look
not on life, but lift your eyes to heaven; there is comfort for
the weak, there are riches for the poor, there are terrors for
the—
“But, Birotteau,” said his wife, “skip all that, and see what he sends us.”
“We will read it over and over hereafter,” said Cesar, wiping his eyes and turning over the page,—letting fall, as he did so, a Treasury note. “I was sure of him, poor brother!” said Birotteau, picking up the note and continuing to read, in a voice broken by tears.
I went to Madame de Listomere, and without telling her the reason
of my request I asked her to lend me all she could dispose of, so
as to swell the amount of my savings. Her generosity has enabled
me to make up a thousand francs; which I send herewith, in a note
of the Receiver-General of Tours on the Treasury.
“A fine sum!” said Constance, looking at Cesarine.