VIII

Favored by this annual turmoil, the happy Augustine escaped the

investigations of her Argus-eyed relations. At last, one Saturday

evening, the stock-taking was finished. The figures of the sum-total

showed a row of 0's long enough to allow Guillaume for once to relax

the stern rule as to dessert which reigned throughout the year. The

shrewd old draper rubbed his hands, and allowed his assistants to

remain at table. The members of the crew had hardly swallowed their

thimbleful of some home-made liqueur, when the rumble of a carriage

was heard. The family party were going to see /Cendrillon/ at the

Varietes, while the two younger apprentices each received a crown of

six francs, with permission to go wherever they chose, provided they

were in by midnight.

Notwithstanding this debauch, the old cloth-merchant was shaving

himself at six next morning, put on his maroon-colored coat, of which

the glowing lights afforded him perennial enjoyment, fastened a pair

of gold buckles on the knee-straps of his ample satin breeches; and

then, at about seven o'clock, while all were still sleeping in the

house, he made his way to the little office adjoining the shop on the

first floor. Daylight came in through a window, fortified by iron

bars, and looking out on a small yard surrounded by such black walls

that it was very like a well. The old merchant opened the iron-lined

shutters, which were so familiar to him, and threw up the lower half

of the sash window. The icy air of the courtyard came in to cool the

hot atmosphere of the little room, full of the odor peculiar to

offices.

The merchant remained standing, his hand resting on the greasy arm of

a large cane chair lined with morocco, of which the original hue had

disappeared; he seemed to hesitate as to seating himself. He looked

with affection at the double desk, where his wife's seat, opposite his

own, was fitted into a little niche in the wall. He contemplated the

numbered boxes, the files, the implements, the cash box--objects all

of immemorial origin, and fancied himself in the room with the shade

of Master Chevrel. He even pulled out the high stool on which he had

once sat in the presence of his departed master. This stool, covered

with black leather, the horse-hair showing at every corner--as it had

long done, without, however, coming out--he placed with a shaking hand

on the very spot where his predecessor had put it, and then, with an

emotion difficult to describe, he pulled a bell, which rang at the

head of Joseph Lebas' bed. When this decisive blow had been struck,

the old man, for whom, no doubt, these reminiscences were too much,

took up three or four bills of exchange, and looked at them without

seeing them.

Suddenly Joseph Lebas stood before him.

"Sit down there," said Guillaume, pointing to the stool.

As the old master draper had never yet bid his assistant be seated in

his presence, Joseph Lebas was startled.

"What do you think of these notes?" asked Guillaume.

"They will never be paid."

"Why?"

"Well, I heard the day before yesterday Etienne and Co. had made their

payments in gold."

"Oh, oh!" said the draper. "Well, one must be very ill to show one's

bile. Let us speak of something else.--Joseph, the stock-taking is

done."

"Yes, monsieur, and the dividend is one of the best you have ever

made."

"Do not use new-fangled words. Say the profits, Joseph. Do you know,

my boy, that this result is partly owing to you? And I do not intend

to pay you a salary any longer. Madame Guillaume has suggested to me

to take you into partnership.--'Guillaume and Lebas;' will not that

make a good business name? We might add, 'and Co.' to round off the

firm's signature."

Tears rose to the eyes of Joseph Lebas, who tried to hide them.

"Oh, Monsieur Guillaume, how have I deserved such kindness? I only do

my duty. It was so much already that you should take an interest in a

poor orph----"

He was brushing the cuff of his left sleeve with his right hand, and

dared not look at the old man, who smiled as he thought that this

modest young fellow no doubt needed, as he had needed once on a time,

some encouragement to complete his explanation.

"To be sure," said Virginie's father, "you do not altogether deserve

this favor, Joseph. You have not so much confidence in me as I have in

you." (The young man looked up quickly.) "You know all the secrets of

the cash-box. For the last two years I have told you almost all my

concerns. I have sent you to travel in our goods. In short, I have

nothing on my conscience as regards you. But you--you have a soft

place, and you have never breathed a word of it." Joseph Lebas

blushed. "Ah, ha!" cried Guillaume, "so you thought you could deceive

an old fox like me? When you knew that I had scented the Lecocq

bankruptcy?"