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Updated: June 22, 2025
Fortunately, the banker was still absent; and, during the two days succeeding Louis's visit, Mme. Fauvel could keep her room under pretence of sickness. But Madeleine, with her feminine instinct, saw that her aunt was troubled by something worse than nervous headache, for which the physician was prescribing all sorts of remedies, with no beneficial effect.
This threat aroused Prosper from his torpor. "You shall do nothing of the kind!" he cried with unrestrained indignation. "I will do so before the sun goes down this day. M. Fauvel will grant me time to pay the rest. My pension is fifteen hundred francs. I can live upon five hundred, and am strong enough to go to work again; and your brother-in-law "
Fauvel, who trembled at the rising anger of the man who held her fate in his hands, "Madeleine, be careful!" "Mademoiselle is pitiless," said Clameran sadly; "she cruelly punishes an honorable man whose only fault is having obeyed his brother's dying injunctions. And I am here now, because I believe in the joint responsibility of all the members of a family."
She led her aunt up to the glass, and said: "Look at yourself." Mme. Fauvel was indeed a mere shadow of her former self. She had reached the perfidious age when a woman's beauty, like a full-blown rose, fades in a day. Four months of trouble had made her an old woman. Sorrow had stamped its fatal seal upon her brow.
This formal affirmation of a man whom he knew to be skilful ended the hesitation of the commissary. "That being the case," he replied, "I must request a few moments' conversation with M. Fauvel." "I am at your service," said the banker. Prosper foresaw the result of this conversation.
The next day, a lovely spring morning, Andre Fauvel and Valentine de la Verberie were married at the village church. Early in the morning, the chateau was filled with the bride's friends, who came, according to custom, to assist at her wedding toilet. Valentine forced herself to appear calm, even smiling; but her face was whiter than her veil; her heart was torn by remorse.
Before the conversation had ended, the plan seemed feasible. The scoundrels made all their arrangements, and fixed the day for committing the crime. They selected the evening of the 7th of February, because Raoul knew that M. Fauvel would be at a bank-director's dinner, and Madeleine was invited to a party on that evening.
She did not impart her presentiment to her aunt, but prepared herself for the worst. "What can they be doing?" Mme. Fauvel would say; "can they have ceased to persecute us?" "Yes: what can they be doing?" Madeleine would murmur. Louis and Raoul gave no signs of life, because, like expert hunters, they were silently hiding, and watching for a favorable opportunity of pouncing upon their victims.
"I have distressed you too long, my dear mother," he said in his softest tones, "but I repent sincerely: now listen to my " He had not time to say more; the door was violently thrown open, and Raoul, springing to his feet, was confronted by M. Fauvel. The banker had a revolver in his hand, and was deadly pale.
M. Fauvel made it a rule never to keep any large sums of money on the premises, but to deposit all such amounts in the keeping of the Bank of France.
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