THE COMPLETE WORKS OF ÉMILE ZOLA. Эмиль Золя

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      CHAPTER XIV

      IN WHICH IT IS PROVED THAT IT IS POSSIBLE TO SPEND THIRTY THOUSAND FRANCS A YEAR WHEN ONLY EARNING EIGHTEEN HUNDRED

      MARIUS went mechanically down to the port. He walked straight on without noticing whither he was going. He was, so to say, in a state of stupefaction. One sole thought occupied his otherwise empty brain, and kept repeating in a singsong way that he needed fifteen thousand francs without a moment’s loss of time. He cast about him the vague glance of persons in despair, as though he were looking on the ground to see if he could not find the money he required in the interstices of the paving-stones. Down at the port he felt a longing to be rich. The merchandise piled up along the quays, the ships bringing fortunes in their holds, the noise, the motion of that moneymaking crowd, irritated him. Never before had he felt his poverty so strongly. For a moment he was filled with envy, revolt, and bitter jealousy. He asked himself why he was poor whilst others were rich.

      And still that ever-recurring thought kept ringing in his head, fit to break it. Fifteen thousand francs! fifteen thousand francs! His brother was awaiting him, and he could not go back empty-handed. He had only a few hours in which to save him from infamy. But he could form no plan, his bewildered senses did not furnish him with a single practical idea. He turned about in his powerlessness, exerted every effort of his mind in vain, he struggled, almost choking with rage and anguish. He could never ask his employer, M. Martelly, to lend him fifteen thousand francs. His earnings were too small to warrant such a loan. Moreover, he knew the shipowner’s upright principles, and dreaded his reproaches if he admitted to him that he wished to purchase another’s conscience. M. Martelly would at once have refused the money.

      Marius suddenly had an idea. He would not stay to discuss it in his mind, but hurried off to his lodging in the Rue Sainte. On the same floor as himself there resided a young clerk, named Charles Blétry, who was employed as collector at the soap-works of Messrs. Date and Deans. A kind of intimacy had sprung up between these two young fellows living side by side. Marius had been won over by Charles’s gentleness; for the latter went regularly to church, led an exemplary life, and appeared to be of the strictest honesty. Yet during the past two years he had been spending money pretty freely. He had refurnished his lodging in a luxurious style, buying carpets, hangings, mirrors, and rich furniture. Besides this, he came home later, lived more expensively; but still remained gentle and honest, quiet and pious.

      At first, his neighbour’s outlay rather astonished Marius, who could not understand how a clerk earning eighteen hundred francs a year could afford to purchase such expensive things. But Charles told him that he had inherited some money, and that he intended shortly to resign his position and live on his means. He even placed himself and his purse at his disposal; but Marius declined. Today, he recalled this offer, and was about to knock at the young man’s door and ask him for the means to save his brother. A loan of fifteen thousand francs would not perhaps inconvenience him, seeing how lavishly he was spending his money. He proposed to himself to repay the amount in instalments, persuaded that his neighbour would grant him all the time necessary.

      The clerk, however, was not at home in the Rue Sainte, and as Marius was pressed for time he went off to Messrs. Date and Deans’ soap-works, situated on the Boulevard des Dames. When he arrived there and asked for Charles Blétry, it seemed to him that he was eyed in a strange manner. The workmen told him to address himself to M. Date, who was in his office. Surprised at this reception, Marius decided to do so, and found the manufacturer engaged in conversation with three gentlemen, who stopped talking directly he showed himself.

      “Can you tell me, sir,” inquired the young man, “if M. Charles Blétry is at the factory?”

      Daste exchanged a rapid glance with one of the persons present, a stout, pale, and severe-looking man.

      “M. Charles Blétry will return presently,” he replied. “Please wait for him. Are you a friend of his?”

      “Yes,” replied Marius, simply. “He resides in the same house as I do. I have known him for about three years.”

      There was a pause. The young man, thinking he was in the way, added, with a bow, and walking towards the door:

      “I am much obliged to you. I will wait for him outside.”

      Then the stout gentleman leant forward and said a few words to the manufacturer in a low voice. M. Daste signed to Marius to stay.

      “Have the goodness to wait here,” he exclaimed. “Your presence may be useful to us. You must know something of M. Blétry’s mode of living, and can no doubt give us some information about him.”

      Marius, greatly astonished, and not understanding, hesitated.

      “Excuse me,” resumed M. Daste with great politeness, “I see that my words surprise you.” And indicating the stout man, he went on: “That gentleman is the police commissary of the district, and I have sent for him to arrest Charles Blétry who has robbed us of sixty thousand francs in two years.”

      On hearing Charles accused of theft, Marius understood everything. СКАЧАТЬ