Julien was nearly desperate. He did not know how to get rid of his father. He felt it absolutely beyond his strength to invent a ruse capable of deceiving so shrewd an old man.
His mind rapidly reviewed all the alternatives. “I have saved some money,” he suddenly exclaimed.
This inspiration produced a change in the expression of the old man and in Julien’s own condition.
“How ought I to dispose of it?” continued Julien more quietly. The result had freed him from any feeling of inferiority.
The old carpenter was burning not to let the money slip by him, but it seemed that Julien wanted to leave part of it to his brothers. He talked at length and with animation. Julien felt cynical.
“Well, the Lord has given me a message with regard to my will. I will give a thousand francs to each of my brothers and the rest to you.”
“Very good,” said the old man. “The rest is due to me: but since God has been gracious enough to touch your heart, your debts ought to be paid if you wish to die like a good Christian. There are, moreover, the expenses of your board and your education, which I advanced to you, but which you are not thinking of.”
“Such is paternal love,” repeated Julien to himself, dejectedly, when he was at last alone. Soon the gaoler appeared.
“Monsieur, I always bring my visitors a good bottle of champagne after near relations have come to see them. It is a little dear, six francs a bottle, but it rejoices the heart.”
“Bring three glasses,” said Julien to him, with a childish eagerness, “and bring in two of the prisoners whom I have heard walking about in the corridor.” The gaoler brought two men into him who had once been condemned to the gallows, and had now been convicted of the same offence again, and were preparing to return to penal servitude. They were very cheerful scoundrels, and really very remarkable by reason of their subtlety, their courage, and their coolness.