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Eugenie fetched her straw bonnet, lined with pink taffeta; then the father and daughter went down the winding street to the shore. "Where are you going at this early hour?" said Cruchot, the notary, meeting them. "To see something," answered Grandet, not duped by the matutinal appearance of his friend.
Those sixty francs, accumulating through thirty-five years, had recently enabled her to invest four thousand francs in an annuity with Maitre Cruchot. This result of her long and persistent economy seemed gigantic. Every servant in the town, seeing that the poor sexagenarian was sure of bread for her old age, was jealous of her, and never thought of the hard slavery through which it had been won.
Besides, what you say is not in good taste, law-school language." "Well, uncle," cried the president when he saw the des Grassins disappearing, "I began by being de Bonfons, and I have ended as nothing but Cruchot." "I saw that that annoyed you; but the wind has set fair for the des Grassins. What a fool you are, with all your cleverness!
"Two, three, four thousand francs, perhaps! The property would have to be put up at auction and sold, to get at its actual value. Instead of that, if you are on good terms with " "By the shears of my father!" cried Grandet, turning pale as he suddenly sat down, "we will see about it, Cruchot." After a moment's silence, full of anguish perhaps, the old man looked at the notary and said,
The Abbe Cruchot, a plump, puffy little man, with a red wig plastered down and a face like an old female gambler, said as he stretched out his feet, well shod in stout shoes with silver buckles: "The des Grassins have not come?" "Not yet," said Grandet. "But are they coming?" asked the old notary, twisting his face, which had as many holes as a collander, into a queer grimace.
Eugenie, who was gazing at the sublime scenery of the Loire, and paying no attention to her father's reckonings, presently turned an ear to the remarks of Cruchot when she heard him say, "So you have brought a son-in-law from Paris. All Saumur is talking about your nephew. I shall soon have the marriage-contract to draw up, hey! Pere Grandet?"
He smoked well, ate well, slept well, and did not worry about the slow passage of time. Cruchot was a gendarme. He had seen twenty years of service in the colonies, from Nigeria and Senegal to the South Seas, and those twenty years had not perceptibly brightened his dull mind. He was as slow-witted and stupid as in his peasant days in the south of France.
Therefore, to avoid all this, he must be released from making the inventory of his whole fortune, part of which you inherit from your mother, and which is now undivided between you and your father " "Cruchot, are you quite sure of what you are saying before you tell it to a mere child?" "Let me tell it my own way, Grandet." "Yes, yes, my friend.
It's somewhere about here, isn't it?" "Over there," said Septimus, with a wave of the hand. He brought a chair from the other table. "Do sit down." Sypher obeyed. "How's the wife?" "The what?" asked Septimus. "The wife Mrs. Dix." "Oh, very well, thank you," he said hurriedly. "Let me introduce you to my good friend Monsieur Hégisippe Cruchot of the Zouaves Monsieur Cruchot Monsieur Clem Sypher."
Since his appointment as president of the Civil courts of Saumur this young man had added the name of Bonfons to that of Cruchot. He now signed himself C. de Bonfons. Any litigant so ill-advised as to call him Monsieur Cruchot would soon be made to feel his folly in court.
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