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Besides," he said, allowing himself a necessary lie, "there is our uncle Pillerault; that is enough to give us courage." "If that were all!" said Constance, smiling.
Pillerault was so violently roused by his reflections that his face like the image on a medal and of the same stern character took a deep bronze tone, such as the metal itself takes under the oscillating tool of a coiner; he remained motionless, gazing through the window-panes at the opposite wall, but seeing nothing, listening, however, to Birotteau.
"I have no receipt to give you," said Claparon; "you deal, for your half of the property, with Monsieur Roguin, as I do for ours. The sellers will get their pay from him in cash; all that I engage to do is to see that you get the equivalent of the hundred and forty thousand francs paid to my order." "That is equitable," said Pillerault.
Cesar fell into a sort of slumber, from which no one tried to rouse him, a species of catalepsy, in which the body lived and suffered while the functions of the mind were in abeyance. This respite, bestowed by chance, was looked upon by Constance, Cesarine, Pillerault, and Derville as a blessing from God. And they judged rightly: Cesar was thus enabled to bear the harrowing emotions of that night.
Cesar's joy as he related the proof of interest which the king had bestowed upon him seemed of good augury, and the astonishment he expressed at seeing Cesarine at "The Queen of Roses" afforded, Pillerault thought, an excellent opening. "Well, Cesar," said the old man, "do you know what is at the bottom of it? the hurry Popinot is in to marry Cesarine.
Pillerault often invited the Abbe Loraux, whose words sustained Cesar in this life of trial. And in this way their lives were spent. The old ironmonger had too tough a fibre of integrity not to approve of Cesar's sensitive honor.
Cibot became their housekeeper at the rate of twenty-five francs per month twelve francs fifty centimes for each of them. Before the year was out, the emeritus portress reigned in the establishment of the two old bachelors, as she reigned everywhere in the house belonging to M. Pillerault, great uncle of Mme. le Comtesse Popinot. Their business was her business; she called them "my gentlemen."
Following close upon the unspeakable emotion his re-entrance at the Bourse had caused him, the hero of commercial honor was now to meet the sudden shock of felicity that awaited him in his old home. A light film dimmed his eyes, and his uncle Pillerault, who held his arm, felt him shudder inwardly.
On Sunday, the day Cesar had appointed to conclude the affair of the lands about the Madeleine, Monsieur and Madame Ragon, and uncle Pillerault arrived about four o'clock, just after vespers. In view of the demolition that was going on, so Cesar said, he could only invite Charles Claparon, Crottat, and Roguin.
Old Pillerault's eyes were wet, for the last time in his life, as he looked at these three beings folded together in one embrace; from the centre of which Birotteau, feeblest of the three and the most stricken, raised his hands, saying: "Let us have hope!" "You shall live with me," said Pillerault, "for the sake of economy; you shall have my chamber, and share my bread.
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