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He then advanced into the cell, and closed the door. The father and son were alone together, Prosper heart-broken, crushed; M. Bertomy angry, almost threatening. Cast off by this last friend, by his father, the miserable young man seemed to be stupefied with pain and disappointment. "You too!" he bitterly cried. "You, you believe me guilty? Oh, father!"
The day of Prosper's release, about three o'clock, M. Fauvel was, as usual, seated in his study, with his elbows resting on the table, and his face buried in his hands, when his office-boy rushed in, and with a frightened look said: "Monsieur, the former cashier, M. Bertomy, is here with one of his relatives; he says he must see you on business."
You are the first member of our family who has possessed Aubusson carpets; though, to be sure, you are the first thief of our blood." At this last insult Prosper's face flushed crimson, but he remained silent and immovable. "But luxury is necessary now," continued M. Bertomy, becoming more excited and angry as he went on, "luxury must be had at any price.
"As regards that spent by myself," continued the cashier, "I had a sort of right to it, all of my savings being deposited in this bank; about fifteen thousand francs." "That is true," said M. Fauvel; "M. Bertomy has at least that amount on deposit." This last question settled, the commissary's errand was over, and his report might now be made.
"I hope it is, for the sake of M. Bertomy, and on your own account too; for, if he is guilty, you will certainly be very much annoyed, and perhaps suspected of complicity, as you are well known to be intimate with him." Cavaillon was overcome. "Now you had best take my advice, monsieur, and return to your business, and . Good-morning, monsieur." The poor fellow obeyed.
M. Patrigent, who was a profound observer of human nature, had contrived the interview between M. Bertomy and his son. He was sure that between the father, a man of such stubborn honor, and the son, accused of theft, an affecting scene would take place, and this scene would completely unman Prosper, and make him confess.
"I am at your command, fair lady," he said; "let us go if you desire it; only permit me, while there is yet time, to say that we are very probably going to do great injury to M. Bertomy." "In what way, if you please?" "Because we are taking a step that he expressly forbade in his letter; we are surprising him giving him no warning."
The banker smiled bitterly. "M. Bertomy might have spared us both this painful meeting. I have nothing to say to him, and of course he can have nothing to tell me." This was a formal dismissal; and M. Verduret, understanding it thus, bowed to M. Fauvel, and left the room, accompanied by Prosper, who had not opened his lips.
So many successive blows had reduced him to a state of torpor. "First of all," began M. Bertomy, "how much have you remaining of the stolen three hundred and fifty thousand francs?" "Once more, father," replied the unfortunate man in a tone of hopeless resignation, "once more I swear I am innocent." "So I supposed you would say.
He says, 'If you love me, I entreat you, obey. And you hesitate to obey. Then you do not love him. Can you not understand, unhappy child, that M. Bertomy has his reasons, terrible, imperious reasons, for your remaining in obscurity for the present?"
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