Gobseck

“‘He is right!’ he said.  ’That puts the whole thing in a different light.  Eighty thousand francs down, and you leave the diamonds with me,’ he added, in the husky, flute-like voice.  ’In the way of property, possession is as good as a title.’

“‘But——­’ objected the young man.

“‘You can take it or leave it,’ continued Gobseck, returning the jewel-case to the lady as he spoke.

“‘I have too many risks to run.’

“‘It would be better to throw yourself at your husband’s feet,’ I bent to whisper in her ear.

“The usurer doubtless knew what I was saying from the movement of my lips.  He gave me a cool glance.  The Count’s face grew livid.  The Countess was visibly wavering.  Maxime stepped up to her, and, low as he spoke, I could catch the words: 

“’Adieu, dear Anastasie, may you be happy!  As for me, by to-morrow my troubles will be over.’

“‘Sir!’ cried the lady, turning to Gobseck.  ‘I accept your offer.’

“‘Come, now,’ returned Gobseck.  ’You have been a long time in coming to it, my fair lady.’

“He wrote out a cheque for fifty thousand francs on the Bank of France, and handed it to the Countess.

“‘Now,’ continued he with a smile, such a smile as you will see in portraits of M. Voltaire, ’now I will give you the rest of the amount in bills, thirty thousand francs’ worth of paper as good as bullion.  This gentleman here has just said, “My bills will be met when they are due,”’ added he, producing certain drafts bearing the Count’s signature, all protested the day before at the request of some of the confraternity, who had probably made them over to him (Gobseck) at a considerably reduced figure.

“The young man growled out something, in which the words ’Old scoundrel!’ were audible.  Daddy Gobseck did not move an eyebrow.  He drew a pair of pistols out of a pigeon-hole, remarking coolly: 

“‘As the insulted man, I fire first.’

“‘Maxime, you owe this gentleman an explanation,’ cried the trembling Countess in a low voice.

“‘I had no intention of giving offence,’ stammered Maxime.

“‘I am quite sure of that,’ Gobseck answered calmly; ’you had no intention of meeting your bills, that was all.’

“The Countess rose, bowed, and vanished, with a great dread gnawing her, I doubt not.  M. de Trailles was bound to follow, but before he went he managed to say: 

“’If either of you gentlemen should forget himself, I will have his blood, or he will have mine.’

“‘Amen!’ called Daddy Gobseck as he put his pistols back in their place; ’but a man must have blood in his veins though before he can risk it, my son, and you have nothing but mud in yours.’

“When the door was closed, and the two vehicles had gone, Gobseck rose to his feet and began to prance about.

“‘I have the diamonds!  I have the diamonds!’ he cried again and again, ’the beautiful diamonds! such diamonds! and tolerably cheaply.  Aha! aha!  Werbrust and Gigonnet, you thought you had old Papa Gobseck! Ego sum papa!  I am master of the lot of you!  Paid! paid, principal and interest!  How silly they will look to-night when I shall come out with this story between two games of dominoes!’

“The dark glee, the savage ferocity aroused by the possession of a few water-white pebbles, set me shuddering.  I was dumb with amazement.

“‘Aha!  There you are, my boy!’ said he.  ’We will dine together.  We will have some fun at your place, for I haven’t a home of my own, and these restaurants, with their broths, and sauces, and wines, would poison the Devil himself.’

“Something in my face suddenly brought back the usual cold, impassive expression to his.

“‘You don’t understand it,’ he said, and sitting down by the hearth, he put a tin saucepan full of milk on the brazier.—­’Will you breakfast with me?’ continued he.  ’Perhaps there will be enough here for two.’

“‘Thanks,’ said I, ‘I do not breakfast till noon.’

“I had scarcely spoken before hurried footsteps sounded from the passage.  The stranger stopped at Gobseck’s door and rapped; there was that in the knock which suggested a man transported with rage.  Gobseck reconnoitred him through the grating; then he opened the door, and in came a man of thirty-five or so, judged harmless apparently in spite of his anger.  The newcomer, who was quite plainly dressed, bore a strong resemblance to the late Duc de Richelieu.  You must often have met him, he was the Countess’ husband, a man with the aristocratic figure (permit the expression to pass) peculiar to statesmen of your faubourg.

“‘Sir,’ said this person, addressing himself to Gobseck, who had quite recovered his tranquillity, ’did my wife go out of this house just now?’

“‘That is possible.’

“‘Well, sir? do you not take my meaning?’

“‘I have not the honor of the acquaintance of my lady your wife,’ returned Gobseck.  ’I have had a good many visitors this morning, women and men, and mannish young ladies, and young gentlemen who look like young ladies.  I should find it very hard to say——­’

“’A truce to jesting, sir!  I mean the woman who has this moment gone out from you.’

“’How can I know whether she is your wife or not?  I never had the pleasure of seeing you before.’

“‘You are mistaken, M. Gobseck,’ said the Count, with profound irony in his voice.  ’We have met before, one morning in my wife’s bedroom.  You had come to demand payment for a bill—­no bill of hers.’

“’It was no business of mine to inquire what value she had received for it,’ said Gobseck, with a malignant look at the Count.  ’I had come by the bill in the way of business.  At the same time, monsieur,’ continued Gobseck, quietly pouring coffee into his bowl of milk, without a trace of excitement or hurry in his voice, ’you will permit me to observe that your right to enter my house and expostulate with me is far from proven to my mind.  I came of age in the sixty-first year of the preceding century.’

“‘Sir,’ said the Count, ’you have just bought family diamonds, which do not belong to my wife, for a mere trifle.’

“’Without feeling it incumbent upon me to tell you my private affairs, I will tell you this much M. le Comte—­if Mme. la Comtesse has taken your diamonds, you should have sent a circular around to all the jewelers, giving them notice not to buy them; she might have sold them separately.’

“‘You know my wife, sir!’ roared the Count.

“‘True.’

“‘She is in her husband’s power.’

“‘That is possible.’

“‘She had no right to dispose of those diamonds——­’

“‘Precisely.’

“‘Very well, sir?’

“’Very well, sir.  I knew your wife, and she is in her husband’s power; I am quite willing, she is in the power of a good many people; but—­I—­do—­not—­know—­your diamonds.  If Mme. la Comtesse can put her name to a bill, she can go into business, of course, and buy and sell diamonds on her own account.  The thing is plain on the face of it!’

“‘Good-day, sir!’ cried the Count, now white with rage.  ’There are courts of justice.’

“‘Quite so.’

“‘This gentleman here,’ he added, indicating me, ’was a witness of the sale.’

“‘That is possible.’

“The Count turned to go.  Feeling the gravity of the affair, I suddenly put in between the two belligerents.

“‘M. le Comte,’ said I, ’you are right, and M. Gobseck is by no means in the wrong.  You could not prosecute the purchaser without bringing your wife into court, and the whole of the odium would not fall on her.  I am an attorney, and I owe it to myself, and still more to my professional position, to declare that the diamonds of which you speak were purchased by M. Gobseck in my presence; but, in my opinion, it would be unwise to dispute the legality of the sale, especially as the goods are not readily recognizable.  In equity our contention would lie, in law it would collapse.  M. Gobseck is too honest a man to deny that the sale was a profitable transaction, more especially as my conscience, no less than my duty, compels me to make the admission.  But once bring the case into a court of law, M. le Comte, the issue would be doubtful.  My advice to you is to come to terms with M. Gobseck, who can plead that he bought the diamonds in all good faith; you would be bound in any case to return the purchase money.  Consent to an arrangement, with power to redeem at the end of seven or eight months, or a year even, or any convenient lapse of time, for the repayment of the sum borrowed by Mme. la Comtesse, unless you would prefer to repurchase them outright and give security for repayment.’

“Gobseck dipped his bread into the bowl of coffee, and ate with perfect indifference; but at the words ‘come to terms,’ he looked at me as who should say, ’A fine fellow that! he has learned something from my lessons!’ And I, for my part, riposted with a glance, which he understood uncommonly well.  The business was dubious and shady; there was pressing need of coming to terms.  Gobseck could not deny all knowledge of it, for I should appear as a witness.  The Count thanked me with a smile of good-will.

“In the debate which followed, Gobseck showed greed enough and skill enough to baffle a whole congress of diplomatists; but in the end I drew up an instrument, in which the Count acknowledged the receipt of eighty-five thousand francs, interest included, in consideration of which Gobseck undertook to return the diamonds to the Count.

“‘What waste!’ exclaimed he as he put his signature to the agreement.  ‘How is it possible to bridge such a gulf?’

“‘Have you many children, sir?’ Gobseck asked gravely.

“The Count winced at the question; it was as if the old money-lender, like an experienced physician, had put his finger at once on the sore spot.  The Comtesse’s husband did not reply.

“‘Well,’ said Gobseck, taking the pained silence for answer, ’I know your story by heart.  The woman is a fiend, but perhaps you love her still; I can well believe it; she made an impression on me.  Perhaps, too, you would rather save your fortune, and keep it for one or two of your children?  Well, fling yourself into the whirlpool of society, lose that fortune at play, come to Gobseck pretty often.  The world will say that I am a Jew, a Tartar, a usurer, a pirate, will say that I have ruined you!  I snap my fingers at them!  If anybody insults me, I lay my man out; nobody is a surer shot nor handles a rapier better than your servant.  And every one knows it.  Then, have a friend—­if you can find one—­and make over your property to him by a fictitious sale.  You call that a fidei commissum, don’t you?’ he asked, turning to me.

“The Count seemed to be entirely absorbed in his own thoughts.

“‘You shall have your money to-morrow,’ he said, ’have the diamonds in readiness,’ and he went.

“‘There goes one who looks to me to be as stupid as an honest man,’ Gobseck said coolly when the Count had gone.

“‘Say rather stupid as a man of passionate nature.’

“‘The Count owes you your fee for drawing up the agreement!’ Gobseck called after me as I took my leave.

“One morning, a few days after the scene which initiated me into the terrible depths beneath the surface of the life of a woman of fashion, the Count came into my private office.

“‘I have come to consult you on a matter of grave moment,’ he said, ’and I begin by telling you that I have perfect confidence in you, as I hope to prove to you.  Your behavior to Mme. de Grandlieu is above all praise,’ the Count went on. (You see, madame, that you have paid me a thousand times over for a very simple matter.)

“I bowed respectfully, and replied that I had done nothing but the duty of an honest man.

“‘Well,’ the Count went on, ’I have made a great many inquiries about the singular personage to whom you owe your position.  And from all that I can learn, Gobseck is a philosopher of the Cynic school.  What do you think of his probity?’

“‘M. le Comte,’ said I, ’Gobseck is my benefactor—­at fifteen per cent,’ I added, laughing.  ’But his avarice does not authorize me to paint him to the life for a stranger’s benefit.’

“’Speak out, sir.  Your frankness cannot injure Gobseck or yourself.  I do not expect to find an angel in a pawnbroker.’

“‘Daddy Gobseck,’ I began, ’is intimately convinced of the truth of the principle which he takes for a rule of life.  In his opinion, money is a commodity which you may sell cheap or dear, according to circumstances, with a clear conscience.  A capitalist, by charging a high rate of interest, becomes in his eyes a secured partner by anticipation.  Apart from the peculiar philosophical views of human nature and financial principles, which enable him to behave like a usurer, I am fully persuaded that, out of his business, he is the most loyal and upright soul in Paris.  There are two men in him; he is petty and great—­a miser and a philosopher.  If I were to die and leave a family behind me, he would be the guardian whom I should appoint.  This was how I came to see Gobseck in this light, monsieur.  I know nothing of his past life.  He may have been a pirate, may, for anything I know, have been all over the world, trafficking in diamonds, or men, or women, or State secrets; but this I affirm of him—­never has human soul been more thoroughly tempered and tried.  When I paid off my loan, I asked him, with a little circumlocution of course, how it was that he had made me pay such an exorbitant rate of interest; and why, seeing that I was a friend, and he meant to do me a kindness, he should not have yielded to the wish and made it complete.—­“My son,” he said, “I released you from all need to feel any gratitude by giving you ground for the belief that you owed me nothing.”—­So we are the best friends in the world.  That answer, monsieur, gives you the man better than any amount of description.’

“‘I have made up my mind once and for all,’ said the Count.  ’Draw up the necessary papers; I am going to transfer my property to Gobseck.  I have no one but you to trust to in the draft of the counter-deed, which will declare that this transfer is a simulated sale, and that Gobseck as trustee will administer my estate (as he knows how to administer), and undertakes to make over my fortune to my eldest son when he comes of age.  Now, sir, this I must tell you:  I should be afraid to have that precious document in my own keeping.  My boy is so fond of his mother, that I cannot trust him with it.  So dare I beg of you to keep it for me?  In case of death, Gobseck would make you legatee of my property.  Every contingency is provided for.’

“The Count paused for a moment.  He seemed greatly agitated.

“‘A thousand pardons,’ he said at length; ’I am in great pain, and have very grave misgivings as to my health.  Recent troubles have disturbed me very painfully, and forced me to take this great step.’

“‘Allow me first to thank you, monsieur,’ said I, ’for the trust you place me in.  But I am bound to deserve it by pointing out to you that you are disinheriting your—­other children.  They bear your name.  Merely as the children of a once-loved wife, now fallen from her position, they have a claim to an assured existence.  I tell you plainly that I cannot accept the trust with which you propose to honor me unless their future is secured.’

“The Count trembled violently at the words, and tears came into his eyes as he grasped my hand, saying, ’I did not know my man thoroughly.  You have made me both glad and sorry.  We will make provision for the children in the counter-deed.’

“I went with him to the door; it seemed to me that there was a glow of satisfaction in his face at the thought of this act of justice.

“Now, Camille, this is how a young wife takes the first step to the brink of a precipice.  A quadrille, a ballad, a picnic party is sometimes cause sufficient of frightful evils.  You are hurried on by the presumptuous voice of vanity and pride, on the faith of a smile, or through giddiness and folly!  Shame and misery and remorse are three Furies awaiting every woman the moment she oversteps the limits——­”

“Poor Camille can hardly keep awake,” the Vicomtesse hastily broke in.  —­“Go to bed, child; you have no need of appalling pictures to keep you pure in heart and conduct.”

Camille de Grandlieu took the hint and went.

“You were going rather too far, dear M. Derville,” said the Vicomtesse, “an attorney is not a mother of daughters nor yet a preacher.”

“But any newspaper is a thousand times——­”

“Poor Derville!” exclaimed the Vicomtesse, “what has come over you?  Do you really imagine that I allow a daughter of mine to read the newspapers?—­Go on,” she added after a pause.

“Three months after everything was signed and sealed between the Count and Gobseck——­”

“You can call him the Comte de Restaud, now that Camille is not here,” said the Vicomtesse.

“So be it!  Well, time went by, and I saw nothing of the counter-deed, which by rights should have been in my hands.  An attorney in Paris lives in such a whirl of business that with certain exceptions which we make for ourselves, we have not the time to give each individual client the amount of interest which he himself takes in his affairs.  Still, one day when Gobseck came to dine with me, I asked him as we left the table if he knew how it was that I had heard no more of M. de Restaud.