CHAPTER XXIII.
RINGING THE CHANGES.
Andre, who was gifted with plenty of intelligence, at once judged of thekind of business done by the Mutual Loan Society by the dinginess ofthe brass plate on the door and the generally dilapidated aspect of thehouse.
"I don't like the look of it at all," said he.
"It does not go in for show," answered Gaston, affecting an air ofwisdom, "but it is deemed handy sometimes. It does all sorts of businessthat you would never think of. A real downy card is Verminet."
Andre could easily believe this, for, of course, there could be but oneopinion concerning the character of a man who could have induced a meresimpleton like Gaston to affix a forged signature to the bills which hehad discounted. He made no remark, however, but entered the house,with the interior arrangements of which Gaston appeared to be perfectlyfamiliar. They passed through a dirty, ill-smelling passage, went acrossa courtyard, cold and damp as a cell, and ascended a flight of stairswith a grimy balustrade. On the second floor Gaston made a halt beforea door upon which several names were painted. They passed through into alarge and lofty room. The paper on the walls of this delectable chamberwas torn and spotted, and a light railing ran along it, behind which sattwo or three clerks, whose chief occupation appeared to be consuming thebreakfast which they had brought with them to the office. The heat ofthe stove, which was burning in one corner of the room, the generalmouldiness of the atmosphere, and the smell of the coarse food, weresufficient to turn the stomach of any one coming in from the fresh air.
"Where is M. Verminet?" asked Gaston authoritatively.
"Engaged," replied one of the clerks, without pausing to empty his mouthbefore he replied.
"Don't you talk to me like that. What do I care whether he is engaged ornot? Tell him that Gaston de Gandelu desires to see him at once."
The clerk was evidently impressed by his visitor's manner, and, takingthe card which was handed to him, made his exit through a door at theother end of the room.
Gaston was delighted at this first victory, and glanced at Andre with atriumphant smile.
The clerk came back almost at once. "M. Verminet," cried he, "has aclient with him just now. He begs that you will excuse him for a fewminutes, when he will see you;" and evidently anxious to be civil to thegorgeously attired youths before him, he added, "My master is just nowengaged with M. de Croisenois."
"Aha," cried Gaston; "I will lay you ten to one that the dear Marquiswill be delighted to see me."
Andre started on hearing this name, and his cheek crimsoned. The manwhom he most hated in this world; the wretch who, by his possession ofsome compromising secret, was forcing Sabine into a detested marriage;the villain whom he, M. de Breulh, and Madame de Bois Arden had sworn tooverreach, was within a few paces of him, and that now he should see himface to face. Their eyes would meet, and he would hear the tones of thescoundrel's voice. His rage and agitation were so intense that it waswith the utmost difficulty that he concealed it. Luckily for him, Gastonwas not paying the slightest attention to his companion; for having, atthe clerk's invitation, taken a chair, he assumed an imposing attitude,which struck the shabby young man behind the railing with the deepestadmiration.
"I suppose," said he, in a loud voice, "that you know my dear friend,the Marquis?"
Andre made some reply, which Gaston interpreted as a negative.
"Really," said he, "you know _no_ one, as I told you before. Where haveyou lived? But you must have heard of him? Henri de Croisenois is one ofmy most intimate friends. He owes me over fifty louis that I won of himone night at baccarat."
Andre was now certain that he had estimated Verminet's charactercorrectly, and the relations of the Marquis de Croisenois with this veryequivocal personage assumed a meaning of great significance to him. Hefelt now that he had gained a clue, a beacon blazed out before him,and he saw his way more clearly into the difficult windings of thislabyrinth of iniquity which he knew that he must penetrate before hegained the secret he longed for.
He felt like a child playing the game called "Magic Music," when, as theseeker nears the hiding place of the article of which he is in search,the strains of the piano swell higher and higher. He now found that theboy whose master he had become, knew, or said he knew, a good deal ofthis marquis. Why should he not gain some information from him?
"Are you really intimate with the Marquis de Croisenois?" asked he.
"I should rather think I was," returned Gandelu the younger. "You willsee that precious sharp. I know all about him, and who the girl is thathe is ruining himself for, but I mustn't talk about that; mum's theword, you know."
At that moment the door opened, and the Marquis appeared, followed byVerminet.
Henri de Croisenois was attired in the most fashionable manner, andformed an utter contrast to the flashy dress of Gaston. He was smoking acigar, and mechanically tapping his boots with an elegant walking cane.In a moment the features and figure of the Viscount were indeliblyphotographed upon Andre's brain. He particularly noticed his eyes,which had in them a half-concealed look of terror, and his face bore thehaunted expression of a person who expects some terrible blow to fallupon him at any moment.
At a little distance the Marquis still seemed young, but a closerinspection showed that the man looked even older than he really was, soworn and haggard were his mouth and eyes. Nights at the gaming-table andthe anxiety as to where the fresh supplies should come from to furnishthe means to prolong his life of debauchery had told heavily upon him.To-day, however, he seemed to be in the best temper imaginable, andin the most cheerful manner he addressed a few words to Verminet, inconclusion of the conversation that had been going on in the inneroffice.
"It is settled then," remarked he, "that I am to have nothing more to dowith a business with which neither of us has any real concern?"
"Just so," answered Verminet.
"Very well, then; but remember that any mistake you may make in theother affair will be attended with the most serious results."
This caution seemed to suggest some new idea to Verminet, for he saidsomething in a low voice to his client at which they both laughed.
Gaston was fidgeting about, very uneasy at the Marquis having paid noattention to him, and he now advanced with a magnificent salutationand a friendly wave of the hand. If the Marquis was charmed at meetingGandelu, he concealed his delight in a most wonderful manner. He seemedsurprised, but not agreeably so; he bent his head, and he extended hisgloved hand with a negligent, "Ah, pleased to see you." Then withouttaking any more notice of Gaston, he turned on his heel and continuedhis conversation with Verminet.
"The worst part is over," said he, "and therefore no time is to be lost.You must see Mascarin and Martin Rigal, the banker, to-day."
At these words Andre started. Were these people Croisenois' accomplices?Certainly he had accomplices on the brain just now, and their namesremained deeply engraved on the tablets of his memory.
"Tantaine was here this morning," observed Verminet, "and told me thathis master wanted to see me at four this afternoon. Van Klopen will bethere also. Shall I say a word to him about your fine friend?"
"'Pon my soul," remarked the Marquis, shrugging his shoulders, "I hadnearly forgotten her. There will be a tremendous fuss made, for she willbe wanting all sorts of things. Speak to Van Klopen certainly, but donot bind yourself. Remember that I do not care a bit for the fair Sara."
"Quite so; I understand," answered Verminet; "but keep things quiet, anddo not have any open disturbances."
"Of course not. Good morning," and with a bow to the managing directorand a nod to Gaston, he lunged out of the office, not condescending totake the slightest notice of Andre. Verminet invited Andre and Gastoninto his sanctum, and, taking a seat, motioned to them to do the same.Verminet was a decided contrast to his office, which was shabby anddirty, for his dress did his tailor credit, and he appeared to be clean.He was neither old nor young, and carried his years well. He was freshand plump, wore
his whiskers and hair cut in the English fashion, whilehis sunken eyes had no more expression in them than those of a fish.
Gandelu was in a hurry to begin.
"Let us get to business," said he. "Last week you lent me some money."
"Just so. Do you want any more?"
"No; I want to return my bills."
A cloud passed over Verminet's face.
"The first does not fall due until the 15th," remarked he.
"No matter; I have the money with me, and I will pay it on you handingover the bills to me."
"I can't do it."
"And why so, pray?"
"The bills have passed out of my hands."
Gaston could scarcely credit his ears, nor believe in the truth of thislast statement, and was certainly upset, now knowing what to do.
"But," stammered he, "you promised, when I signed those bills, that theyshould never go out of your hands."
"I don't say I did not; but one can't always keep to one's promise. Iwas forced to part with them. I wanted money, and so had to discountthem."
Andre was not at all surprised, for he had anticipated some suchdifficulty; and seeing that Gaston had entirely lost his head, he brokein on the conversation.
"Excuse me, sir," remarked he; "but it seems to me that there arecertain circumstances in this case which should have made you keep yourpromise."
Verminet stared at him.
"Who have I the honor of speaking to?" asked he, instead of making adirect reply.
"I am a friend of M. de Gandelu's," returned Andre, thinking it best notto give any name.
"A confidential friend?"
"Entirely so. He had, I think, ten thousand francs from you."
"Pardon me, five thousand."
Andre turned toward his companion in some surprise.
Gaston grew crimson.
"What is the meaning of this?" asked the artist.
"Can't you see?" whispered Gaston. "I had ten because I wanted the otherfive for Zora."
"Oh, indeed," returned Andre, with a slight uplifting of his eyebrows."Well, then, M. Verminet, it was five thousand francs that you lentto my young friend here. That was right enough; but what do you say toinducing him to forge a signature?"
"I! I do such a thing?" answered Verminet. "Why, I did not know that thesignature was not genuine."
This insolent denial aroused the unhappy Gaston from his state ofstupor.
"This is too much, a deuced deal too much," cried he. "Did you notyourself tell me that, for your own security, you must insist uponanother name in addition to mine? Did you not give me a letter, and say,'Write a signature like the one at the bottom of this, it is that ofMartin Rigal, the banker in the Rue Montmartre'?"
"An utterly false accusation, without a shadow of proof; and rememberthat a libel uttered in the presence of a third party is punishable bylaw."
"And yet, sir," continued Andre, "you did not hesitate for a moment indiscounting these bills. Have you calculated what terrible results maycome of this breach of faith on your part?--what will happen if thisforged signature is presented to M. Martin Rigal?"
"Very unlikely. Gandelu is the drawer, Rigal merely the endorser.Bills, when due, are always presented to the drawer," returned Verminetlaconically.
Evidently a trap had been laid for Gaston, but the reason was stillburied in obscurity.
"Then," remarked Andre, "we have but one course to pursue: we must tracethose notes to the hands in which they now are, and take them up."
"Quite right."
"But to enable us to do so, you must first let us know the name of theparty who discounted them."
"I don't know; I have forgotten," answered Verminet, with a carelesswave of his hand.
"Then," returned Andre, in a low, deep voice of concentrated fury, "letme advise you, for your own sake, to make an immediate call upon yourpowers of memory."
"Do you threaten me?"
"And if you do not succeed in remembering the name or names, theconsequences may be more serious than you seem to anticipate."
Verminet saw that the young painter was in dangerous earnest, and rosefrom his chair, but Andre was too quick for him.
"No," said he, placing his back against the door; "you will not leavethis room until you have done what I require."
For fully ten minutes the men stood gazing at each other. Verminetwas green with terror, while Andre's face, though pale, was firm anddetermined.
"If the scoundrel makes any resistance," said he to himself, "I willfling him out of the window."
"The man is a perfect athlete," thought Verminet, "and looks as if hewould stick at nothing."
Seeing that he had better give in, the managing director took up a bulkyledger, and began to turn over the leaves with trembling fingers.
Andre saw that he was holding it upside-down.
"There it is," cried Verminet at last.
"Bills for five thousand francs. Gandelu and Rigal, booked for discountto Van Klopen, ladies' tailor."
Andre was silent.
Why was it that Verminet had suggested Rigal's signature as the one heought to imitate? And why had he handed the bills over to Van Klopen?Was it mere chance that had arranged it all? He did not believe it, butfelt sure that some secret tie united them all together, Verminet, VanKlopen, Rigal, and the Marquis de Croisenois.
"Do you want anything more?" asked the manager of the Mutual LoanSociety.
"Are the bills in Van Klopen's hands?"
"I can't say."
"Never mind, he will have to tell me where they are, if he has not gotthem," returned Andre.
They left the house, and as soon as they were again in the street Andretook his companion's arm, and hurried him off in the direction of theRue de Grammont.
"I don't want to give this thief, Verminet, time to warn Van Klopen ofwhat has taken place; I had rather fall upon him with the suddenness ofan earthquake. Come, let us go to his establishment at once."