第95章 V(6)
"Hey! mein freint," said the fat Nucingen to du Tillet, "you haf joust missed blaying me a bretty drick in zenting Pirodot to me. I don't know," he added, addressing Gobenheim the manufacturer, "vy he tid not ask me for fifdy tousand francs. I should haf gif dem to him."
"Oh, no, Monsieur le baron," said Joseph Lebas, "you knew very well that the Bank had refused his paper; you made them reject it in the committee on discounts. The affair of this unfortunate man, for whom I
still feel the highest esteem, presents certain peculiar circumstances."
Pillerault pressed the hand of Joseph Lebas.
"Yes," said Mongenod, "it seems impossible to believe what has happened, unless we believe that concealed behind Gigonnet there are certain bankers who want to strangle the speculation in the lands about the Madeleine."
"What has happened is what happens always to those who go out of their proper business," said Claparon, hastily interrupting Mongenod. "If he had set up his own Cephalic Oil instead of running up the price of all the land in Paris by pouncing upon it, he might have lost his hundred thousand francs with Roguin, but he wouldn't have failed. He will go on now under the name of Popinot."
"Keep a watch on Popinot," said Gigonnet.
Roguin, in the parlance of such worthy merchants, was now the "unfortunate Roguin." Cesar had become "that wretched Birotteau." The one seemed to them excused by his great passion; the other they considered all the more guilty for his harmless pretensions.
Gigonnet, after leaving the Bourse, went round by the Rue Perrin-
Gasselin on his way home, in search of Madame Madou, the vendor of dried fruits.
"Well, old woman," he said, with his coarse good-humor, "how goes the business?"
"So-so," said Madame Madou, respectfully, offering her only armchair to the usurer, with a show of attention she had never bestowed on her "dear defunct."
Mother Madou, who would have floored a recalcitrant or too-familiar wagoner and gone fearlessly to the assault of the Tuileries on the 10th of October, who jeered her best customers and was capable of speaking up to the king in the name of her associate market-women,--
Angelique Madou received Gigonnet with abject respect. Without strength in his presence, she shuddered under his rasping glance. The lower classes will long tremble at sight of the executioner, and Gigonnet was the executioner of petty commerce. In the markets no power on earth is so respected as that of the man who controls the flow of money; all other human institutions are as nothing beside him.
Justice herself takes the form of a commissioner, a familiar personage in the eyes of the market; but usury seated behind its green boxes,--
usury, entreated with fear tugging at the heart-strings, dries up all jesting, parches the throat, lowers the proudest look, and makes the commonest market women respectful.
"Do you want anything of me?" she said.
"A trifle, a mere nothing. Hold yourself ready to make good those notes of Birotteau; the man has failed, and claims must be put in at once. I will send you the account to-morrow morning."
Madame Madou's eyes contracted like those of a cat for a second, and then shot out flames.
"Ah, the villain! Ah, the scoundrel! He came and told me himself he was a deputy-mayor,--a trumped-up story! Reprobate! is that what he calls business? There is no honor among mayors; the government deceives us. Stop! I'll go and make him pay me; I will--"
"Hey! at such times everybody looks out for himself, my dear!" said Gigonnet, lifting his leg with the quaint little action of a cat fearing to cross a wet place,--a habit to which he owed his nickname.
"There are some very big wigs in the matter who mean to get themselves out of the scrape."
"Yes, and I'll pull my nuts out of the fire, too! Marie-Jeanne, bring my clogs and my rabbit-skin cloak; and quick, too, or I'll warm you up with a box on the ear."
"There'll be warm work down there!" thought Gigonnet, rubbing his hands as he walked away. "Du Tillet will be satisfied; it will make a fine scandal all through the quarter. I don't know what that poor devil of a perfumer has done to him; for my part I pity the fellow as I do a dog with a broken leg. He isn't a man, he has got no force."
Madame Madou bore down, like an insurrectionary wave from the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, upon the shop-door of the hapless Birotteau, which she opened with excessive violence, for her walk had increased her fury.
"Heap of vermin! I want my money; I will have my money! You shall give me my money, or I carry off your scent-bags, and that satin trumpery, and the fans, and everything you've got here, for my two thousand francs. Who ever heard of mayors robbing the people? If you don't pay me I'll send you to the galleys; I'll go to the police,--justice shall be done! I won't leave this place till I've got my money."
She made a gesture as if to break the glass before the shelves on which the valuables were placed.
"Mother Madou takes a drop too much," whispered Celestin to his neighbor.
The virago overheard him,--for in paroxysms of passion the organs are either paralyzed or trebly acute,--and she forthwith applied to Celestin's ear the most vigorous blow that ever resounded in a Parisian perfumery.
"Learn to respect women, my angel," she said, "and don't smirch the names of the people you rob."
"Madame," said Madame Birotteau, entering from the back-shop, where she happened to be with her husband,--whom Pillerault was persuading to go with him, while Cesar, to obey the law, was humbly expressing his willingness to go to prison,--"madame, for heaven's sake do not raise a mob, and bring a crowd upon us!"
"Hey! let them come," said the woman; "I'll tell them a tale that will make you laugh the wrong side of your mouth. Yes, my nuts and my francs, picked up by the sweat of my brow, helped you to give balls.