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Updated: May 4, 2025
It will be worth seeing." M. Fortunat smiled graciously. "That ought to bring you a handsome commission," he said, benignly. Employed by the job, Chupin was the master of his own time, free to utilize his intelligence and industry as he chose, but M. Fortunat did not like his subordinates to make any money except through him.
It was not by any means the first time that M. Fortunat had found himself at variance with clients of a sanguine temperament; but he had always escaped safe and sound, so that, after all, he was not particularly alarmed in the present instance, as was proved by the fact that he was still calm enough to reflect and plan.
Like many other people, M. Fortunat piously believed in Providence when things went to his liking, but it is sad to add that in the contrary case he denied its existence. "If she has any courage," he resumed, "and she seems to have plenty of it, Valorsay and Coralth will be in a tight place soon.
Of the prosperous Fortunat, so favorably known round about the Place de la Bourse, naught remained save his face and his hands. Another Fortunat had taken his place, more than needy in aspect wretched, famished, gaunt with hunger, ready for any desperate deed. And, yet, he seemed at ease in this garb; it yielded to his every movement, as if he had worn it for a long time.
"M. Victor Chupin?" inquired M. Fortunat. The sound of his voice made the young man spring to his feet. He quickly lifted the shade from his lamp, and, without attempting to conceal his astonishment, exclaimed: "M'sieur Fortunat! at this hour! Where's the fire?"
It was not until he had discovered that the husband had become discouraged and had discontinued his search, that the count began his. It was a long and arduous one, but at last it succeeded, thanks to the assistance of a clever scoundrel named Fortunat." The baron with difficulty repressed a movement of eager curiosity, and remarked: "What a peculiar name!" "And his first name is Isidore.
And, anxious to escape the evident curiosity of her servants, she hastened back to the little boudoir where she usually spent her mornings. M. Fortunat had left his card that is to say, his address and it would have been an easy matter to send a servant to his house.
You might have sworn that M. Fortunat was about to burst into tears. "Poor Lucy!" said he, in a tragical tone; "it was for me, madame, that she was waiting. But it was only this morning that I received her letter appointing a meeting here. She must have been in despair. The post can't be depended on!"
"You have been guilty of a most infamous act, Monsieur le Marquis," said M. Fortunat, coldly. "Oh! no moralizing, if you please." "Only evil will come of it." The marquis shrugged his shoulders, and in a tone of bitter scorn, retorted: "Come, Mons. Fortunat, if you wish to lose the forty thousand francs you advanced to me, it's easy enough to do so.
"Have no fears, mademoiselle, we shall outwit these scoundrels!" So far a silent witness of this scene, M. Fortunat now felt it his duty to interfere. He was not particularly pleased by his clerk's suddenly increased importance; and yet it mattered little to him, for his only object was to revenge himself on Valorsay.
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