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Authors: Honore Balzac

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‘You have gone too far in promising my consent like this, Madame,' the Baron said severely. ‘This marriage is not
made,' he added, casting a look at Steinbock, whom he saw turn pale.

The unhappy artist said to himself, ‘He knows of my arrest.'

‘Come, children,' the father said, leading his daughter and proposed son-in-law into the garden; and he took them to sit on one of the moss-grown benches of the summer-house.

‘Monsieur le Comte, do you love my daughter as dearly as I loved her mother?' the Baron asked Wenceslas.

‘More dearly, Monsieur,' said the artist.

‘Her mother was the daughter of a peasant, and had no fortune, not a farthing.'

‘Give me Mademoiselle Hortense, just as she is, without even a trousseau.…'

‘That would be a fine thing I' said the Baron, smiling. ‘Hortense is the daughter of Baron Hulot d'Ervy, Councillor of State, a Director of the War Office, Grand Officer of the Legion of Honour, brother of Count Hulot, whose glory is immortal and who is shortly to be a Marshal of France. And… she has a dowry…'

‘It is true,' said the lover, ‘that I must appear to be ambitious; but if my dear Hortense were a labourer's daughter I would marry her.'

‘That is what I wanted to hear you say,' replied the Baron. ‘Run away, Hortense, and let me talk to Monsieur le Comte. You can see that he really loves you.'

‘Oh, Father, I knew very well that you were joking,' answered the happy girl.

‘My dear Steinbock,' said the Baron, with the greatest sweetness and charm, when he was alone with the artist, ‘I made a marriage settlement of two hundred thousand francs on my son, of which the poor boy has not received two farthings: he will never see a penny of it. My daughter's dowry will be two hundred thousand francs, for which you will give me a receipt.'

‘Yes, Monsieur le Baron.'

‘Not so fast,' said the Councillor of State. ‘Will you listen to me, boy? One cannot ask of a son-in-law the self-sacrifice that one expects of a son. My son knew all that I could and
would do for his career. He will be a Minister; he will easily find his two hundred thousand francs. As for you, young man, your case is different. You will receive sixty thousand francs invested in five per cent Government stock, in your wife's name. This sum will be charged with a small annuity to be made to Lisbeth, but she is not likely to live long, she has a weak chest, I know. Don't mention this to anyone, I'm speaking in confidence; let the poor woman die in peace. My daughter will have a trousseau worth twenty thousand francs, to which her mother will add six thousand francs' worth of diamonds of her own.'

‘Monsieur, you overwhelm me,' said Steinbock, at a loss for words.

‘As for the remaining hundred and twenty thousand francs…'

‘Don't say anything further, Monsieur,' said the artist. ‘All I want is my dear Hortense.'

‘Can you restrain your ardour, and let me speak, young man? As for the hundred and twenty thousand francs, I haven't got the money; but you will receive it.'

‘Monsieur!'

‘You will receive it from the Government in the form of commissions that I shall obtain for you, I give you my word. You know that you are going to be given a studio at the Marble Depository. Exhibit some good statues, and I will get you elected to the Institut. There's a certain amount of goodwill in high places towards my brother and me, so I may hope to be successful in obtaining sculpture commissions for you at Versailles worth a quarter of the sum. Then you will get some commissions from the City of Paris, others from the House of Peers. You will have so many, in fact, my dear boy, that you will have to employ assistants. In this way I shall fulfil my obligation to you. Decide whether such a payment of the dowry suits you. Consider whether you are equal to the work.…'

‘I feel equal to making a fortune for my wife single-handed, without help!' said the unworldly artist.

‘That's the spirit I love!' exclaimed the Baron. ‘Glorious youth, confident of itself, and ready to fight the world! I
would have routed armies for a wife, myself! Well,' he went on, shaking the young sculptor's hand, ‘you have my consent The civil contract next Sunday, and the following Saturday to the altar with you – it's my wife's birthday!'

‘All is well,' said the Baroness to her daughter, who was glued to the window. ‘Your future husband and your father are embracing each other.'

When Wenceslas returned home that evening, the mystery of his release was explained. He found, left with the porter, a large sealed package, containing the file of documents relating to his debt, together with the official discharge, recorded at the bottom of the writ, and the following letter:

My dear Wenceslas,

I came to see you this morning, at ten o'clock, in order to arrange your introduction to a Royal Highness who wishes to meet you. Here I learned that the English had carried you off to one of their little islands, whose capital is Clichy's Castle.

I at once went to see Léon de Lora, and told him as a joke that you were unable to leave your present territory for want of four thousand francs, and that your future would be compromised if you failed to present yourself to your royal patron. Bridau, a man of genius who has known poverty himself and is aware of your story, luckily happened to be there. Between them, my boy, they raised the money, and I shall pay off the barbarian who committed the crime of contempt of genius in locking you up. As I have to be at the Tuileries at twelve, I shall not be able to wait to see you breathing free air. I know you to be an honourable man. I have answered for you to my two friends; but go to see them tomorrow.

Léon and Bridau will not want money from you. They will both ask you for a group, and they will be well-advised to do so. That is the opinion of one who would like to be able to call himself your rival, but is just your sincere friend,

STIDMANN

P.S.
I told the Prince that you would not be returning from your travels until tomorrow, and he said, ‘Very well, tomorrow!'

Count Wenceslas went to sleep in the purple sheets that Popular Acclaim spreads for us, without one crumpled rose-leaf. That limping goddess walks even more hesitantly towards men of genius than Justice or Fortune, because by Jupiter's decree she wears no bandage on her eyes. She is
easily taken in by charlatans; and their eye-catching display, bright costumes, and blaring trumpets induce her to waste on
them
the time and money that should be spent on seeking out men of merit, in their obscurity.

At this point it must be explained how Monsieur le Baron Hulot had managed to raise the money for Hortense's dowry, and meet the frightening expenses of the delightful flat in which Madame Marneffe was to be installed. The talent shown in his financial manipulations was of the kind that always guides spendthrifts and passion-driven men among the quagmires, where so many perils await them. The devil looks after his own, and to his powers are due those
tours de force
sometimes achieved by ambitious men, sensualists, and all the other subjects of his kingdom.

*

On the previous morning, the old man Johann Fischer, unable to pay back the sum of thirty thousand francs which had been raised in his name for his nephew, found himself faced with the prospect of filing his petition in bankruptcy if the Baron did not repay the money.

This worthy white-haired old man, seventy years of age, reposed such blind confidence in Hulot, who for this Bona-partist was a ray of Napoleon's sun, that he was tranquilly passing the time with the bank messenger in the back room of the little ground-floor premises, rented for eight hundred francs a year, from which he carried on his various enterprises in connexion with the supply of grain and forage.

‘Marguerite has gone to get the money, not far away,' he told him.

The other man, in grey and silver-braided livery, was so well aware of the old Alsatian's probity that he was ready to leave the bills for thirty thousand francs with him; but the old man made him stay, pointing out that it had not yet struck eight o'clock.

A cab stopped outside. The old man hurried into the street and held out his hand with sublime confidence to the Baron, who gave him thirty thousand-franc notes.

‘Go a few doors further on. I'll explain why later,' said
old Fischer. ‘Here you are, young man,' said the old man, returning to count out the money to the bank representative and see him to the door.

When the bank messenger was out of sight, Fischer beckoned to the cab where his eminent nephew, Napoleon's right hand, was waiting, and said as they went into the house:

‘You don't want it to be known at the Bank of France that you have paid thirty thousand francs on bills endorsed by you. It's too bad as it is that they have the signature of a man like you on them!'

‘Let's go to the end of your garden, Uncle Fischer,' said the high official.' Your health is sound?' he began, sitting down in a vine arbour and scrutinizing the old man as a dealer in human beings might scrutinize some substitute to be hired for army service.

‘Sound enough to place your money on,' the thin, seasoned, wiry, bright-eyed little man replied gaily.

‘Does a hot climate upset you?'

‘On the contrary.'

‘What do you think of Africa?'

‘A fine country! The French were there with the Little Corporal.'

‘It may be necessary, for the sake of us all, for you to go to Algeria.'

‘What about my business?'

‘A War Office official who is retiring and has not enough to live on will buy your business.'

‘And what's to be done in Algeria?'

‘I want you to raise Army supplies, grain and forage. I have your commission signed. You will be able to purchase your supplies in the country at seventy per cent less than the price you will return on your accounts to us.'

‘The supplies will come from what sources?'

‘Raids… levies… from the caliphate. Very little is known about Algeria, although we have been there for the past eight years, but there are vast quantities of grain and forage in the country. When this is in Arab hands, we take it from them under a variety of pretexts; then when we have it, the Arabs do everything in their power to get it from us. There's
a great deal of competition for grain; but it's never known exactly how much has been stolen, one way or the other. There's no time in the open country to weigh out wheat by the hectolitre as it's done in the Paris corn market, or hay as they do it in the rue d'Enfer. The Arab chiefs, like our own Spahis, prefer hard cash, and sell their produce very cheaply for it. The Army, on the other hand, has its fixed requirements; so purchases made at exorbitant prices are passed, allowing for the difficulty of procuring supplies and the risks of transport. That's Algeria from the Army Supply point of view. It's chaos, made bearable by the underground transactions of all infant administrations. As officials, we shall not be able to see clearly what's going on there for a dozen years yet, but private individuals have good eyes in their heads; so I am sending you out there to make a fortune. I am placing you there, as Napoleon used to place a poor Marshal in charge of a kingdom where a traffic in smuggled goods could be secretly protected. I am ruined, my dear Fischer. I need a hundred thousand francs within a year.'

‘I see no harm in getting it from the Arabs,' the Alsatian replied tranquilly. ‘That was done under the Empire.…'

‘The purchaser of your business will be coming to see you this morning, and will give you ten thousand francs,' Baron Hulot went on. ‘That's all you need, isn't it, to get to Africa?'

The old man nodded.

‘As for funds out there, you need not worry,' continued the Baron. ‘I shall keep the balance of the payment for your business. I need it.'

‘It's all yours. My life too,' the old man said.

‘Oh! fear nothing,' answered the Baron, crediting his uncle with greater perspicacity than he possessed; ‘as far as our collecting of levies is concerned, your honour will not be questioned. Everything depends on the central authority, and I myself made the appointments, so I am sure of it. This, Uncle Fischer, is a life-or-death secret. I can trust you: I have spoken to you frankly, without mincing matters.'

‘That journey is decided upon,' said the old man. ‘But for how long?'

‘Two years! You will make a hundred thousand francs on
your own account, and live happily ever after in the Vosges!'

‘It shall be just as you wish. My honour is yours,' the little old man said, serenely.

‘That's the spirit I like in men. However, you must not go until you have seen your great-niece happily married. She is to be a Countess.'

Making levies, raiding the raiders, and selling the Fischer business could not immediately raise sixty thousand francs for Hortense's dowry, and about five thousand francs for her trousseau, in addition to the forty thousand francs already spent or about to be spent on Madame Marneffe. And how had the Baron found the thirty thousand francs which he had brought with him? In this way.

A few days before, Hulot had insured his life for a hundred and fifty thousand francs, for three years, with two different insurance companies. Armed with the policies, with the premiums paid, he had spoken as follows to Monsieur le Baron de Nucingen, Peer of France, on the way home to dinner with him, after a sitting of the House of Peers:

‘Baron, I need seventy thousand francs, and I am asking you to lend it to me. If you will appoint some man of straw, I can assign my salary to you under cover, or at least such part of it as money can be raised on. It amounts to twenty-five thousand francs a year, that's seventy-five thousand in three years. You will say, “What if you die?”'

The Baron nodded.

‘Here are insurance policies for one hundred and fifty thousand francs, which you can hold as security until eighty thousand francs have been paid off,' the Baron continued, drawing papers from his pocket.

BOOK: Cousin Bette
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