By retrenching a few superfluities in my life, I can return the
four hundred francs Madame de Listomere has lent me in three
years; so do not make yourself uneasy about them, my dear Cesar. I
send you all I have in the world; hoping that this sum may help
you to a happy conclusion of your financial difficulties, which
doubtless are only momentary. I well know your delicacy, and I
wish to forestall your objections. Do not dream of paying me any
interest for this money, nor of paying it back at all in the day
of prosperity which ere long will dawn for you if God deigns to
hear the prayers I offer to Him daily. After I received your last
letter, two years ago, I thought you so rich that I felt at
liberty to spend my savings upon the poor; but now, all that I
have is yours. When you have overcome this little commercial
difficulty, keep the sum I now send for my niece Cesarine; so that
when she marries she may buy some trifle to remind her of her old
uncle, who daily lifts his hands to heaven to implore the blessing
of God upon her and all who are dear to her. And also, my dear
Cesar, recollect I am a poor priest who dwells, by the grace of
God, like the larks in the meadow, in quiet places, trying to obey
the commandment of our divine Saviour, and who consequently needs
but little money. Therefore, do not have the least scruple in the
trying circumstances in which you find yourself; and think of me
as one who loves you tenderly.
Our excellent Abbe Chapeloud, to whom I have not revealed your
situation, desires me to convey his friendly regards to every
member of your family, and his wishes for the continuance of your
prosperity. Adieu, dear and well-beloved brother; I pray that at
this painful juncture God will be pleased to preserve your health,
and also that of your wife and daughter. I wish you, one and all,
patience and courage under your afflictions.
Francois Birotteau,
Priest, Vicar of the Cathedral and Parochial Church
of Saint-Gatien de Tours.
“A thousand francs!” cried Madame Birotteau.
“Put them away,” said Cesar gravely; “they are all he had. Besides, they belong to our daughter, and will enable us to live; so that we need ask nothing of our creditors.”
“They will think you are abstracting large sums.”
“Then I will show them the letter.”
“They will say that it is a fraud.”
“My God! my God!” cried Birotteau. “I once thought thus of poor, unhappy people who were doubtless as I am now.”
Terribly anxious about Cesar’s state, mother and daughter sat plying their needles by his side, in profound silence. At two in the morning Popinot gently opened the door of the salon and made a sign to Madame Cesar to come down. On seeing his niece Pillerault took off his spectacles.
“My child, there is hope,” he said; “all is not lost. But your husband could not bear the uncertainty of the negotiations which Anselme and I are about to undertake. Don’t leave your shop to-morrow, and take the addresses of all the bills; we have till four o’clock in the afternoon of the 15th. Here is my plan: Neither Ragon nor I am to be considered. Suppose that your hundred thousand francs deposited with Roguin had been remitted to the purchasers, you would not have them then any more than you have them now. The hundred and forty thousand francs for which notes were given to Claparon, and which must be paid in any state of the case, are what you have to meet. Therefore it is not Roguin’s bankruptcy which as ruined you. I find, to meet your obligations, forty thousand francs which you can, sooner or later, borrow on your property in the Faubourg du Temple, and sixty thousand for your share in the house of Popinot. Thus you can make a struggle, for later you may borrow on the lands about the Madeleine. If your chief creditor agrees to help you, I shall not consider my interests; I shall sell out my Funds and live on dry bread; Popinot will get along between life and death, and as for you, you will be at the mercy of the smallest commercial mischance; but Cephalic Oil will undoubtedly make great returns. Popinot and I have consulted together; we will stand by you in this struggle. Ah! I shall eat my dry bread gaily if I see daylight breaking on the horizon. But everything depends on Gigonnet, who holds the notes, and the associates of Claparon. Popinot and I are going to see Gigonnet between seven and eight o’clock in the morning, and then we shall know what their intentions are.”
Constance, wholly overcome, threw herself into her uncle’s arms, voiceless except through tears and sobs.