“I received a superficial education; but I was to have twenty thousand francs a year, and I was assured that I knew quite enough. I was left my own master altogether too early in life. I was passionately fond of pleasure; I was especially addicted to that charming sex which—of which I must say no evil, since it is my Anna’s. But I abandoned myself blindly to my passions, and I squandered my fortune with mistresses who deceived me, and with false friends who helped me ruin myself.”
Here Auguste could not restrain a sigh, but he motioned to the old man to go on.
“Sometimes I determined to reform, but I was never able to listen to the counsel of reason. When I was thirty-nine, I had spent all my properly and I was entirely unused to work.
“Thereupon a generous woman, who loved me for myself alone, determined to throw in her lot with mine. She possessed a competence; she married me and gave me my Anna. I might have been happy, but I had become so accustomed to fashionable life that I had a craving for spending money. I longed to supply my wife with the beautiful things that I saw on other women; it angered me to see women who were not her equals wearing cashmere shawls. In vain did she tell me that my love alone was enough for her. I persuaded myself that she was concealing her wishes from me, and that she suffered all sorts of privations. Endeavoring to add to our means, I did the wildest things: I gambled, I mortgaged our property, and I reduced to want the woman who had entrusted her destiny to me. Thereupon, realizing the error of my ways, I tried to find employment, but I was no longer young, and I could not succeed in obtaining it. Regret tore my heart, and blanched my hair prematurely; I look to you like a very old man, and I am not yet sixty. My wife did not reproach me; she died commending our daughter, then eight years old, to my care. I tried to utilize what little talent I had, but it was very little, and as I grew older I rarely found anything to do. Meanwhile my Anna was growing, and she began very early to work to support her unhappy father. If you knew, monsieur, all that I owe her! How many nights she has worked, in order to add to her earnings! Never any rest, never any pleasure for her; and yet, not a word of complaint; it is she who comforts me when she sees that I am more than ordinarily depressed, when I reproach myself for my misconduct. Oh! I do not try to conceal my wrong-doing, monsieur. It was my folly alone that led me to lose my own fortune and squander that of my wife. My daughter might be happy, and yet for ten years past, only toil and tears have been her lot! And I alone am the cause! Do you still think that I am deserving of your pity?”
“Yes, monsieur,” said Auguste, pressing the stranger’s hand. “But what impelled you to such a desperate resolution to-night?”
“Despite my failings, monsieur, I have always been careful of my honor; I have thrown away my fortune, but at least I have no reason to reproach myself for failing to keep my engagements. Two years ago I met a man whom I had known in my prosperous days; he came to me and called me his friend as of old. I told him my troubles; he placed his purse at my disposal and lent me twelve hundred francs. ‘You may take your own time about paying me,’ he said. Alas! a long illness prevented me from earning anything; however, my creditor made no demand on me, but the excellent man, who is in business now, was unfortunate himself and lost heavily by several failures. Two months ago he came to ask me if I could repay him, but it was impossible. He did not reproach me, and he did not come again; but I learned yesterday that a heartless creditor of his had caused his imprisonment for a bill of one thousand francs. That news made me desperate. If I had paid my debt, that honest man would still be at liberty! Alas! I have brought misfortune upon everybody who has taken an interest in me! My Anna deprives herself of everything for her father’s sake.—Ah! monsieur, ought I still to cling to an existence which is a weary burden to me?”
Auguste took out his wallet and took from it three one thousand-franc notes, which he placed in the old man’s hand, saying:
“Pay the twelve hundred francs that you owe, and with what is left buy a small shop for your daughter. I am sure that happier days are in store for you.”
The old man could not determine whether he was the dupe of a dream. What had happened to him seemed so extraordinary, that he dared not give way to his delight. He looked first at Dalville, then at the bank-notes which he had put in his hand, and could only falter:
“Great God! is it possible? Such unforeseen good-fortune! Excellent young man!—Pardon me, monsieur! Why, you are an angel sent to us from heaven!”