III
According to the time and place where they are uttered, there arewords which acquire a terrible significance. In this disorderedroom, in the midst of these excited people, that word, the "police,"sounded like a thunderclap.
"Do not open," Maxence ordered; "do not open, however they may ringor knock. Let them burst the door first."
The very excess of her fright restored to Mme. Favoral a portion ofher energy. Throwing herself before her husband as if to protecthim, as if to defend him,
"They are coming to arrest you, Vincent," she exclaimed. "They arecoming; don't you hear them?"
He remained motionless, his feet seemingly riveted to the floor.
"That is as I expected," he said.
And with the accent of the wretch who sees all hope vanish, and whoutterly gives up all struggle,
"Be it so," he said. "Let them arrest me, and let all be over at once.I have had enough anxiety, enough unbearable alternatives. I am tiredalways to feign, to deceive, and to lie. Let them arrest me! Anymisfortune will be smaller in reality than the horrors of uncertainty.I have nothing more to fear now. For the first time in many years Ishall sleep to-night."
He did not notice the sinister expression of his guests. "You thinkI am a thief," he added: "well, be satisfied, justice shall be done."
But he attributed to them sentiments which were no longer theirs.They had forgotten their anger, and their bitter resentment for theirlost money.
The imminence of the peril awoke suddenly in their souls thememories of the past, and that strong affection which comes fromlong habit, and a constant exchange of services rendered. WhateverM. Favoral might have done, they only saw in him now the friend, thehost whose bread they had broken together more than a hundred times,the man whose probity, up to this fatal night, had remained farabove suspicion.
Pale, excited, they crowded around him.
"Have you lost your mind?" spoke M. Desormeaux. "Are you going towait to be arrested, thrown into prison, dragged into a criminalcourt?"
He shook his head, and in a tone of idiotic obstinacy,
"Have I not told you," he repeated, "that every thing is against me?Let them come; let them do what they please with me."
"And your wife," insisted M. Chapelain, the old lawyer, "and yourchildren!"
"Will they be any the less dishonored if I am condemned by default?"
Wild with grief, Mme. Favoral was wringing her hands.
"Vincent," she murmured, "in the name of Heaven spare us theharrowing agony to have you in prison."
Obstinately he remained silent. His daughter, Mlle. Gilberte,dropped upon her knees before him, and, joining her hands:
"I beseech you, father," she begged.
He shuddered all over. An unspeakable expression of suffering andanguish contracted his features; and, speaking in a scarcelyintelligible voice:
"Ah! you are cruelly protracting my agony," he stammered. "Whatdo you ask of me?"
"You must fly," declared M. Desclavettes.
"Which way? How? Do you not think that every precaution has beentaken, that every issue is closely watched?"
Maxence interrupted him with a gesture:
"The windows in sister's room, father," said he, "open upon thecourtyard of the adjoining house."
"Yes; but here we are up two pairs of stairs."
"No matter: I have a way."
And turning towards his sister:
"Come, Gilberte," went on the young man, "give me a light, and letme have some sheets."
They went out hurriedly. Mme. Favoral felt a gleam of hope.
"We are saved!" she said.
"Saved!" repeated the cashier mechanically. "Yes; for I guessMaxence's idea. But we must have an understanding. Where will youtake refuge?"
"How can I tell?"
"There is a train at five minutes past eleven," remarked M.Desormeaux. "Don't let us forget that."
"But money will be required to leave by that train," interrupted theold lawyer. "Fortunately, I have some."
And, forgetting his hundred and sixty thousand francs lost, he tookout his pocket-book. Mme. Favoral stopped him. "We have more thanwe need," said she.
She took from the table, and held out to her husband, the roll ofbank notes which the director of the Mutual Credit Society had throwndown before going.
He refused them with a gesture of rage.
"Rather starve to death!" he exclaimed. "'Tis he, 'tis that wretch--"But he interrupted himself, and more gently:
"Put away those bank-bills," said he to his wife, "and let Maxencetake them back to M. de Thaller to-morrow."
The bell rang violently.
"The police!" groaned Mme. Desclavettes, who seemed on the point offainting away.
"I am going to negotiate," said M. Desormeaux. "Fly, Vincent: donot lose a minute."
And he ran to the front-door, whilst Mme. Favoral was hurrying herhusband towards Mlle. Gilberte's room.
Rapidly and stoutly Maxence had fastened four sheets together by theends, which gave a more than sufficient length. Then, opening thewindow, he examined carefully the courtyard of the adjoining house.
"No one," said he: "everybody is at dinner. We'll succeed."
M. Favoral was tottering like a drunken man. A terrible emotionconvulsed his features. Casting a long look upon his wife andchildren:
"O Lord!" he murmured, "what will become of you?"
"Fear nothing, father," uttered Maxence. "I am here. Neither mymother nor my sister will want for any thing."
"My son!" resumed the cashier, "my children!"
Then, with a choking voice:
"I am worthy neither of your love nor your devotion, wretch that Iam! I made you lead a miserable existence, spend a joyless youth.I imposed upon you every trial of poverty, whilst I--And now I leaveyou nothing but ruin and a dishonored name."
"Make haste, father," interrupted Mlle. Gilberte. It seemed as if hecould not make up his mind.
"It is horrible to abandon you thus. What a parting! Ah! deathwould indeed be far preferable. What will you think of me? I amvery guilty, certainly, but not as you think. I have been betrayed,and I must suffer for all. If at least you knew the whole truth.But will you ever know it? We will never see each other again."
Desperately his wife clung to him.
"Do not speak thus," she said. "Wherever you may find an asylum,I will join you. Death alone can separate us. What do I care whatyou may have done, or what the world will say? I am your wife. Ourchildren will come with me. If necessary, we will emigrate toAmerica; we'll change our name; we will work."
The knocks on the outer door were becoming louder and louder; and M.Desormeaux' voice could be heard, endeavoring to gain a few momentsmore.
"Come," said Maxence, "you cannot hesitate any longer."
And, overcoming his father's reluctance, he fastened one end of thesheets around his waist.
"I am going to let you down, father," said he; "and, as soon as youtouch the ground, you must undo the knot. Take care of thefirst-story windows; beware of the concierge; and, once in the street,don't walk too fast. Make for the Boulevard, where you will be soonerlost in the crowd."
The knocks had now become violent blows; and it was evident that thedoor would soon be broken in, if M. Desormeaux did not make up hismind to open it.
The light was put out. With the assistance of his daughter, M.Favoral lifted himself upon the window-sill, whilst Maxence heldthe sheets with both hands.
"I beseech you, Vincent," repeated Mme. Favoral, "write to us. Weshall be in mortal anxiety until we hear of your safety."
Maxence let the sheets slip slowly: in two seconds M. Favoral stoodon the pavement below.
"All right," he said.
The young man drew the sheets back rapidly, and threw them underthe bed. But Mlle. Gilberte remained long enough at the window torecognize her father's voice asking the concierge to open the door,and to hear the heavy ga
te of the adjoining house closing behindhim.
"Saved!" she said.
It was none too soon. M. Desormeaux had just been compelled toyield; and the commissary of police was walking in.