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Updated: April 30, 2025
Even so, however, the tenth paid them a dividend of fifteen per cent on their capital. On the strength of that fifteen per cent Gaudissart talked of his intelligence, honesty, and zeal, and the good fortune of his partners. "This is like La Fontaine's fable," smiled the ex-cabinet minister. Gaudissart found investments for his capital in other ventures.
Hein! 'sapristi, two brave men would be arrant fools to kill each other for a joke." "Are you sure the pistols will carry WIDE ENOUGH? I should be sorry to kill the man, after all," said Gaudissart. "Sleep in peace," answered Mitouflet, departing. The next morning the two adversaries, more or less pale, met beside the bridge of La Cise.
"Adieu until to-morrow, Monsieur," said Gaudissart, twisting his watch-key. "I shall have the honor to call for you to-morrow. Meantime, send the wine at once to Paris to the address I have given you, and the price will be remitted immediately." Gaudissart, however, was a Norman, and he had no idea of making any agreement which was not reciprocal.
"Is there anything that I can do for them?" asked La Cibot, and her expression would have done credit to a Jocrisse. Gaudissart burst out laughing.
Gaudissart, who believed he owed his life to the judge, cherished the grief of being unable to make his savior any other return than that of sterile gratitude. As he could not thank a judge for doing justice, he went to the Ragons and declared himself liege-vassal forever to the house of Popinot.
If all covetous minds will sympathize with the Presidente, all honest folk will turn in abhorrence from her joy when Gaudissart came twenty minutes later to report his conversation with poor Schmucke.
Dat mann mit die liddle taughter is Dobinard, vat tidies der orchestra and lights die lamps. Bons vas fery fond of him, und helped him. He vas der only von dat accombanied mein only friend to die church und to die grafe. . . . I vant dree tausend vrancs for him, und dree tausend for die liddle von " "Poor fellow!" said Gaudissart to himself.
"Who is your gentleman, child?" "M. Baudoyer, the mayor of your arrondissement, a man as stupid as the late Crevel; Crevel once financed Gaudissart, you know, and a few days ago he died and left me nothing, not so much as a pot of pomatum. That made me say just now that this age of ours is something sickening." "What did he die of?" "Of his wife. If he had stayed with me, he would be living now.
I saw no one who re- minded me of Balzac's "illustre Gaudissart;" and in- deed, in the course of a month's journey through a large part of France, I heard so little desultory con- versation that I wondered whether a change had not come over the spirit of the people.
"Adieu until to-morrow, Monsieur," said Gaudissart, twisting his watch-key. "I shall have the honor to call for you to-morrow. Meantime, send the wine at once to Paris to the address I have given you, and the price will be remitted immediately." Gaudissart, however, was a Norman, and he had no idea of making any agreement which was not reciprocal.
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