As Cerizet walked down the rue Montmartre to regain the Estrapade quarter, he puzzled his brains to divine who that little old man with the curt speech, the imperious manner, and a tone that seemed to cast upon all those with whom he spoke a boarding-grapnel, could be; a man, too, who came from such a distance to spend his evening in a place where, judging by his clothes alone, he had no business to be.
Cerizet had reached the Market without finding any solution to that problem, when he was roughly shaken out of it by a heavy blow in the back. Turning hastily, he found himself in presence of Madame Cardinal, an encounter with whom, at a spot where she came every morning to get fish to peddle, was certainly not surprising.
Since that evening in Toupillier's garret, the worthy woman, in spite of the clemency so promptly shown to her, had judged it imprudent to make other than very short apparitions in her own domicile, and for the last two days she had been drowning among the liquor-dealers (called "retailers of comfort") the pangs of her defeat. With flaming face and thickened voice she now addressed her late accomplice:--"Well, papa," she said, "what happened after I left you with that little old fellow?""I made him understand in a very few words," replied the banker of the poor, "that it was all a mistake as to me. In this affair, my dear Madame Cardinal, you behaved with a really unpardonable heedlessness.
How came you to ask my assistance in obtaining your inheritance from your uncle, when with proper inquiry you might have known there was a natural daughter, in whose favor he had long declared he should make a will? That little old man, who interrupted you in your foolish attempt to anticipate your legacy, was no other than the guardian of the daughter to whom everything is left.""Ha! guardian, indeed! a fine thing, guardian!" cried the Cardinal.
"To talk of a woman of my age, just because I wanted to see if my uncle owned anything at all, to talk to ME of the police! It's hateful! it's DISGUSTING!""Come, come!" said Cerizet, "you needn't complain; you got off cheaply.""Well, and you, who broke the locks and said you were going to take the diamonds, under color of marrying my daughter! Just as if she would have you,--a legitimate daughter like her! 'Never, mother,' said she; 'never will I give my heart to a man with such a nose.'""So you've found her, have you?" said Cerizet.
"Not until last night. She has left her blackguard of a player, and she is now, I flatter myself, in a fine position, eating money; has her citadine by the month, and is much respected by a barrister who would marry her at once, but he has got to wait till his parents die, for the father happens to be mayor, and the government wouldn't like it.""What mayor?"
"11th arrondissement,--Minard, powerfully rich, used to do a business in cocoa.""Ah! very good! very good! I know all about him. You say Olympe is living with his son?""Well, not to say living together, for that would make talk, though he only sees her with good motives. He lives at home with his father, but he has bought their furniture, and has put it, and my daughter, too, into a lodging in the Chausee d'Antin; stylish quarter, isn't it?""It seems to me pretty well arranged," said Cerizet; "and as Heaven, it appears, didn't destine us for each other--""No, yes, well, that's how it was; and I think that girl is going to give me great satisfaction; and there's something I want to consult you about.""What?" demanded Cerizet.
"Well, my daughter being in luck, I don't think I ought to continue to cry fish in the streets; and now that my uncle has disinherited me, Ihave, it seems to me, a right to an 'elementary allowance.'""You are dreaming, my poor woman; your daughter is a minor; it is you who ought to be feeding her; the law doesn't require her to give you aliment.""Then do you mean," said Madame Cardinal, "that those who have nothing are to give to those who have much? A fine thing such a law as that!
It's as bad as guardians who, for nothing at all, talk about calling the police. Yes! I'd like to see 'em calling the police to me! Let 'em guillotine me! It won't prevent my saying that the rich are swindlers;yes, swindlers! and the people ought to make another revolution to get their rights; and THEN, my lad, you, and my daughter, and barrister Minard, and that little old guardian, you'll all come down under it--"Perceiving that his ex-mother-in-law was reaching stage of exaltation that was not unalarming, Cerizet hastened to get away, her epithets pursuing him for more than a hundred feet; but he comforted himself by thinking that he would make her pay for them the next time she came to his back to ask for a "convenience."
