Books: Serge Panine, v4
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Georges Ohnet >> Serge Panine, v4
"Well, then, I will speak to him," said Pierre, resolutely.
"No," said Madame Desvarennes, "not you! Only one here can tell him
efficaciously what he must hear, and that is Cayrol. Let us above all
things keep guard over our words and our behavior. On no account must
Micheline suspect anything."
Thus, at the most solemn moments, when fortune and honor, perhaps, were
compromised, the mother thought of her daughter's welfare and happiness.
Cayrol went up to the Prince's rooms. He had just come in, and was
opening his letters, while having a cigarette in the smoking-room. A
door, covered by curtains, led to a back stair which opened into the
courtyard. Cayrol had gone up that way, feeling sure that by so doing he
would not meet Micheline.
On seeing Jeanne's husband, Serge rose quickly. He feared that Cayrol
had discovered everything, and instinctively stepped backward. The
banker's manner soon undeceived him. He was serious, but not in a rage.
He had evidently come on business.
"Well, my dear Cayrol," said the Prince, gayly, "what good fortune has
brought you here?"
"If it is fortune, it is certainly not good fortune," answered the
banker, gravely. "I wish to have some talk with you, and I shall be
grateful if you will listen patiently."
"Oh! oh!" said Serge. "How serious you are. You have some heavy
payments on hand, and want a little help, eh? I will speak to Herzog."
Cayrol looked at the Prince in amazement. So he did not suspect
anything? Such carelessness and negligence frightened him. The banker
resolved to proceed clearly, and without beating about the bush; to do
away with such blind confidence a thunderbolt was necessary.
"I have not come about my business, but yours," returned Cayrol. "The
Universal Credit Company is on the eve of disaster; there is still time
for you to withdraw safely and soundly from the sinking wreck. I bring
you the means."
Serge laughed.
"Thank you, Cayrol; you are very kind, my friend. I know your intentions
are good, but I don't believe a word you are saying. You have come from
Madame Desvarennes. You are both agreed that I shall give up the
Universal Credit, but I will not yield to any pressure. I know what I am
doing. Be easy."
And quietly lighting another cigarette, he gracefully puffed the smoke
toward the ceiling. Cayrol did not trouble to argue, but took a
newspaper from his pocket and handed it to Panine, simply saying, "Read!"
It was an article in a reliable financial paper prophesying the failure
of the Universal Credit Company, and basing its statements on irrefutable
calculations. Serge took the paper and looked over it. He turned pale
and crushed it in his hand.
"What infamy!" cried he. "I know our adversaries are enraged. Yes,
they know that our new company is destined to crush them in the future,
and they are doing all they can to run us aground. Jealousy! Envy!
There is no other foundation for these rumors, and they are unworthy a
serious man's attention."
"There is neither envy nor jealousy. All is true," said Cayrol. "You
will admit that I am your sincere friend? Well, I swear to you that the
situation is terrible, and you must resign your directorship of the
Universal Credit without loss of time. There's not a moment to lose.
Sit down and write your resignation."
"Do you think I am a child to be led by the nose like that?" asked the
Prince, in a passion. "If you are sincere, Cayrol, as I wish to believe,
I also think you are a fool. You don't understand! As to drawing out of
the company, never! I have a lot of money invested in it."
"Well, lose your money, Madame Desvarennes will pay you back. At least
you can save your name."
"Ah, I see you are conniving with her!" exclaimed the Prince, loudly.
"Don't tell me another word, I don't believe you. I shall go straight to
the office, and I will speak to Herzog. We will take measures to
prosecute the papers for libel if they dare to publish these untruths."
Cayrol saw that nothing would convince Panine. He hoped that an
interview with Herzog would enlighten him. He left the matter to chance,
as reasoning was of no avail, and went down to the mistress.
Serge drove to the Universal Credit Company. It was the first day in the
new offices. Herzog had furnished them splendidly, thinking that this
would give the shareholders a high opinion of the undertaking. How could
they have any doubts when they saw such splendid furniture and large
offices? How could they refuse to place their money in the hands of
speculators that could cover their floors with such soft carpets? The
porters, with their dark blue and red cloth liveries, and buttons with
the company's monogram on them, answered inquiries with haughty
condescension. Everything foretold success. It was in the air. You
could hear the cashier shovelling heaps of gold. The people who had
placed the Universal Credit Company on such a footing were either very
powerful or very impudent.
Serge walked in, as he would have done at home, with his hat on, amid a
number of small shareholders, who had come full of anxiety after reading
the accounts in the newspapers, and who felt full of confidence after
seeing the splendor of the place. Panine reached Herzog's office, but
when about to open the door, loud voices struck his ear. The financier
was arguing with a director, and Panine listened.
"The speculation is safe and sure," Herzog was saying. "The shares are
low, I know, because I have ceased to keep them up. I have given orders
in London, Vienna, and Berlin, and we are buying up all shares that are
offered in the market. I shall then run the shares up again, and we
shall realize an enormous sum. It is most simple."
"But it is shady," said the other voice.
"Why? I defend myself as I am attacked. The great banks seek to
deteriorate my stock. I buy in, and take it out of my adversaries.
Is it not just and lawful?"
Panine breathed freely and felt reassured. The depreciation was caused
by Herzog; he had just said so. There was nothing to fear then. It was
just a trick of Herzog's, and the company would come out brighter than
ever.
Serge went in.
"Oh! here's Prince Panine," said Herzog. "Ask him what he thinks of the
matter. I defer to his judgment."
"I don't want to know anything," said Serge. "I have full confidence in
you, my dear manager, and our business will prosper in your hands, I am
sure. Besides, I know the manoeuvres of our opponents, and I think every
financial means justifiable to answer them."
"Ah! What did I say to you a few minutes ago?" cried Herzog, addressing
his questioner in a tone of triumph. "Let me act and you will see.
Besides, I don't want to keep you against your will," he added, harshly.
"You are at liberty to withdraw from us if you like."
The other protested that what he had said was for the best interests of
all concerned. He did not dream of leaving the company; on the contrary,
they might rely on him. He appreciated the experience and ability of
Herzog too well to separate his fortune from his friend's. And, shaking
hands with the financier, he took his leave.
"Come! What is all this clamor in the newspapers?" asked Serge, when he
found himself alone with Herzog. "Do you know that the articles
published are very perfidious?"
"All the more perfidious because they are founded on truth," said the
financier, coldly.
"What do you mean?" cried Serge, in alarm.
"The truth. Do you think I am to tell you lies as I did to that idiot
who has just gone out? The Universal Credit has at this moment a screw
loose. But patience! I have an idea, and in a fortnight the shares will
have doubled in value. I have a splendid scheme in hand which will kill
the gas companies. It is a plan for lighting by magnesium. Its effect
will be startling. I shall publish sensational articles describing the
invention in the London and Brussels papers. Gas shares will fall very
low. I shall buy up all I can, and when I am master of the situation, I
shall announce that the threatened gas companies are buying up the
invention. Shares will rise again, and I shall realize a goodly sum,
which will be for the benefit of the Universal Credit."
"But for such a formidable speculation foreign agents will require
security?"
"I will offer it to them. I have here ten million francs' worth of
shares in the European Credit belonging to Cayrol. We will give the
cashier a joint receipt for them. The speculation will last three days.
It is safe, and when the result is achieved we will replace the shares,
and take back the receipt."
"But," asked Serge, "is this plan of taking the shares which don't belong
to us legal?"
"It is a transfer," said Herzog, with simplicity. "Besides, don't forget
that we have to do with Cayrol, that is to say with a partner."
"Suppose we tell him of it," insisted the Prince.
"No! The deuce! We should have to explain everything to him. He knows
what's what, and would find the idea too good, and want a share of the
spoil. No! Sign that, and don't be alarmed. The sheep will be back in
the fold before the shepherd comes to count them."
A dark presentiment crossed Serge's mind, and he was afraid. At that
moment, when his fate was being decided, he hesitated to go deeper into
the rut where he had already been walking too long. He stood silent and
undecided. Confused thoughts crowded his brain; his temples throbbed,
and a buzzing noise sounded in his ears. But the thought of giving up
his liberty, and again subjecting himself to Madame Desvarennes's
protection was like the lash of a whip, and he blushed for having
hesitated.
Herzog looked at him, and, smiling in a constrained way, said:
"You, too, may give up the affair if you like. If I share it with you it
is because you are so closely allied to me. I don't so very much care to
cut the pear in two. Don't think that I am begging of you to be my
partner! Do as you like."
Serge caught hold of the paper and, having signed it, handed it to the
financier.
"All right," said Herzog. "I shall leave to-night and be absent three
days. Watch the money market. You will see the results of my
calculations."
And shaking hands with the Prince, Herzog went to the cashier to get the
scrip and deposit the receipt.
CHAPTER XIX
SIN GROWS BOLDER
There was a party at Cayrol's. In the drawing-rooms of the mansion in
the Rue Taitbout everything was resplendent with lights, and there was
quite a profusion of flowers. Cayrol had thought of postponing the
party, but was afraid of rousing anxieties, and like an actor who, though
he has just lost his father, must play the following day, so Cayrol gave
his party and showed a smiling face, so as to prevent harm to his
business.
Matters had taken a turn for the worse during the last three days. The
bold stroke, to carry out which Herzog had gone to London so as to be
more secret, had been got wind of. The fall of the shares had not taken
place. Working with considerable sums of money, the loss on the
difference was as great as the gains would have been. The shares
belonging to the European Credit Company had defrayed the cost of the
game. It was a disaster. Cayrol, in his anxiety, had applied for the
scrip and had only found the receipt given to the cashier. Although the
transaction was most irregular, Cayrol had not said anything; but,
utterly cast down, had gone to Madame Desvarennes to tell her of the
fact.
The Prince was in bed, pretending to be ill. His wife, happily ignorant
of all that was going on, rejoiced secretly at his indisposition because
she was allowed to nurse him and have him all to herself. Panine,
alarmed at the check they had experienced, was expecting Herzog with
feverish impatience, and to keep out of sight had chosen the privacy of
his own room.
Still, Cayrol had been allowed to see him, and with great circumspection
told him that his non-appearance at the same time that Herzog was absent
was most fatal for the Universal Credit Company. It was absolutely
necessary that he should be seen in public. He must come to his party,
and appear with a calm face. Serge promised to come, and had imposed on
Micheline the heavy task of accompanying him to Jeanne's. It was the
first time since her return from Nice that she had entered the house of
her husband's mistress.
The concert was over, and a crowd of guests were coming from the large
drawing-room to the boudoir and little drawing-room.
"The symphony is over. Ouf!" said Savinien, yawning.
"You don't like music?" asked Marechal, with a laugh.
"Yes, military music. But two hours of Schumann and Mendelssohn at high
pressure is too much for one man. But I say, Marechal, what do you think
of Mademoiselle Herzog's being at Cayrol's soiree. It is a little too
strong."
"How so?"
"Why, the father has bolted, and the daughter is preparing a dance. Each
has a different way of using their feet."
"Very pretty, Monsieur Desvarennes, but I advise you to keep your flashes
of wit to yourself," said Marechal, seriously. "That may not suit
everybody."
"Oh, Marechal, you, too, making a fuss!"
And turning on his heel, he went to the refreshment table.
Prince and Princess Panine were just coming in. Micheline was smiling,
and Serge was pale, though calm. Cayrol and Jeanne came toward them.
Everybody turned to look at them. Jeanne, without embarrassment, shook
hands with her friend. Cayrol bowed respectfully to Micheline.
"Princess," he said, "will you honor me by taking my arm? You are just
in time, they are going to begin dancing."
"Not myself, though, thank you," replied Micheline, with a sad smile, "I
am still very weak, but I will look on."
And on Cayrol's arm she entered the large drawing-room. Serge followed
with Jeanne.
The festivities were at their height. The orchestra was playing a waltz,
and in a whirl of silk and gauze the young people seemed to be thoroughly
enjoying themselves.
Suzanne Herzog was sitting alone near a window, in a simple white dress,
and without a single ornament. Marechal had just approached her, and she
had welcomed him with a smile.
"Are you not dancing to-night, Mademoiselle?" he asked.
"I am waiting to be invited," she answered, sadly, "and, like sister
Anne, I see nobody coming. There are ugly reports abroad about my
father's fortune, and the Argonauts are drawing off."
"Will you give me a dance?" said Marechal. "I don't dance to
perfection, never having practised much, but with a good will."
"Thank you, Monsieur Marechal, I would rather talk. I am not very
cheerful to-night, and, believe me, I only came because Madame
Desvarennes wished it. I would rather have remained at home. Business
has gone wrong with my father by what I can hear, for I don't know what
goes on at the office. I feel more inclined to cry than to laugh. Not
that I regret the loss of money, you know; I don't care for it, but my
father must be in despair."
Marechal listened silently to Suzanne, not daring to tell her what he
thought of Herzog, and respected the real ignorance or willing blindness
of the young girl who did not doubt her father's loyalty.
The Princess, leaning on Cayrol's arm, had just finished promenading
round the rooms, when she perceived Suzanne and, leaving the banker, came
and seated herself beside her. Many of the guests looked at each other
and whispered words which Micheline did not hear, and if she had heard
would not have understood. "It is heroic!" some said. Others answered,
"It is the height of impudence."
The Princess was talking with Suzanne and was looking at her husband who,
leaning against a door, was following Jeanne with his eyes.
At a sign from Cayrol, Marechal left the room. The secretary joined
Madame Desvarennes, who had come with Pierre and had remained in Cayrol's
private office. During this party matters of moment were to be
discussed, and a consultation was about to take place between the
interested parties. On seeing Marechal enter, Madame only uttered one
word:
"Cayrol?"
"Here he is," answered the secretary.
Cayrol came in, hurriedly.
"Well," he asked, with great anxiety, "have you any news?"
"Pierre has just come from London," answered the mistress. "What we
feared is true. Herzog, conjointly with my son-in-law, has made use of
the ten millions belonging to the European Credit."
"Do you think that Herzog has really bolted?" inquired Marechal.
"No! he is too deep for that," replied Cayrol. "He will return. He
knows that in compromising the Prince it is as if he had compromised the
firm of Desvarennes, therefore he is quite easy on the matter."
"Can the one be saved without the other?" asked the mistress.
"It is impossible. Herzog has so firmly bound up his interests with
those of the Prince that it will be necessary to extricate both or let
both perish together."
"Well, we must save Herzog into the bargain, then!" said Madame
Desvarennes, coldly. "But by what means?"
"These," answered Cayrol. "The shares taken away by Herzog, under the
security of the Prince's signature, were deposited by the shareholders.
When the Universal Credit removed to its new offices, these shares were
taken away by mistake. It will suffice to replace the scrip. I will
give back the receipt to the Prince and all trace of this deplorable
affair will be wiped out."
"But the numbers of the shares will not be the same," said Madame
Desvarennes, accustomed to minute regularity in all operations.
"We can explain the change by feigning a sale when they were high, and
buying them up when low. We will show a profit, and the shareholders
will not quarrel. Besides, I reserve the right of divulging Herzog's
fraud without implicating Panine, if the shareholders insist. Trust me,
I will catch Herzog another time. It is my stupid confidence in that man
which has been partly the cause of this disaster. I will make your
business mine and force him to shell out. I shall leave for London to-
night, by the 1.50 train. Promptness of action in such a case is the
first step toward success."
"Thank you, Cayrol," said the mistress. "Have my daughter and the Prince
arrived?"
"Yes, Serge is calm; he has more power over himself than I could have
believed."
"What does it matter to him what is going on? Is it he who will feel the
blow? No. He knows that I shall go on working to keep him in idleness
and maintain him in luxury. I may think myself lucky if he is reclaimed
by this hard lesson, and does not again begin to rummage in other
people's safes, for then I should be unable to save him."
The mistress rose and, with flashing eyes, walked up and down the room.
"Oh, the wretch!" she said. "If ever my daughter ceases to come between
him and me!"
A terrible gesture finished the sentence.
Cayrol, Marechal, and Pierre looked at each other. The same thought came
to their minds, dark and fearful. In a paroxysm of rage this fond
mother, this energetic and passionate woman, would be capable of killing
any one.
"You remember what I told you one day," murmured Marechal, approaching
Cayrol.
"I would prefer the hatred of ten men to that of such a woman," answered
Cayrol.
"Cayrol!" continued Madame Desvarennes, after a few moments of
meditation, "the conduct of the business of which you spoke to us a
little while ago depends solely on you, does it not?"
"On me alone."
"Do it at once, then, cost me what it may. Has it been noised abroad?"
"No one has the slightest suspicion. I have not mentioned it to a living
soul," said the banker--"except to my wife," added he with a frankness
which drew a smile from Pierre. "But my wife and I are one."
"What did she say?" asked Madame Desvarenes, looking straight at Cayrol.
"If I had been the person concerned," he said, "she could not possibly
have been more affected. She loves you so much, Madame, you and those
belonging to you. She besought me to do all in my power to get the
Prince out of this scrape. She had tears in her eyes: And, truly, if I
did not feel bound to serve you from gratitude I would do it for her sake
and to give her pleasure. I was touched, I can assure you. Really, she
has a heart!"
Marechal exchanged a look with Madame Desvarennes, who advanced toward
the banker, and shook him by the hand, saying:
"Cayrol, you are truly a good man!"
"I know it," said Cayrol, smiling to hide his emotion, "and you may rely
upon me."
Micheline appeared on the threshold of the room. Through the half-open
door the dancers could be seen passing to and fro, and the sound of music
floated in the air.
"What has become of you, mamma? I hear that you have been here for more
than an hour."
"I was talking on business matters with these gentlemen," answered Madame
Desvarennes, smoothing from her brow the traces of her cares by an effort
of will. "But you, dear, how do you feel? Are you not tired?"
"Not more so than usual," replied Micheline, looking round to follow the
movements of her husband, who was trying to reach Jeanne.
"Why did you come to this party? It was unwise."
"Serge wished me to come, and I did not care to let him come without me."
"Eh! dear me!" exclaimed Madame Desvarennes. "Let him do what he likes.
Men are savages. When you are ill it won't hurt him."
"I am not ill, and I won't be," resumed Micheline, warmly. "We are going
away now."
She motioned to Serge with her fan. Panine came to her.
"You will take me home, won't you, Serge?"
"Certainly, dear one," answered Serge.
Jeanne, who was listening at a distance, raised her hand to her forehead
as a sign that she wanted him. A feeling of surprise came over the
Prince, and he did not understand what she meant. Micheline had seen the
sign. A deadly pallor spread over her features, and a cold perspiration
broke out on her forehead. She felt so ill that she could have cried
out. It was the first time she had seen Serge and Jeanne together since
the dreadful discovery at Nice. She had avoided witnessing their
meeting, feeling uncertain of herself, and fearing to lose her self-
control. But seeing the two lovers before her, devouring each other with
their looks, and making signs to each other, made her feel most terribly
jealous and angry.
Serge had decided to obey the imperious signs which Jeanne made to him,
and turning toward his wife, said:
"I remember now, my dear, that before going home I must call at the club.
I promised, and cannot put it off. Excuse my not going with you, and ask
your mother to accompany you."
"Very well," said Micheline, in a trembling voice. "I will ask her. You
are not going just yet?"
"In a moment."
"I, too, shall leave in a moment."
The young wife did not want to lose one detail of the horrible comedy
being played under her very eyes. She remained to learn, unawares, the
reason for which Jeanne kept her husband.
Not thinking that he was watched, Serge had gone across to Jeanne, and
affecting a smile, inquired:
"What is the matter?"
"Serious news." And she explained that she must speak to her lover that
evening.
"Where?" Serge asked, with astonishment.
"Here," answered Jeanne.
"But your husband?" the Prince said.
"Is leaving in an hour. Our guests will not remain late. Go to the
garden, and wait in the pavilion. The door of the back stairs leading to
my dressing-room will be open. When everybody has gone, come up."
"Take care; we are observed," said Serge, uneasily.
And they began to laugh with affectation and talked aloud about frivolous
things, as if nothing serious were occupying their thoughts. Cayrol had
come back again. He went up to Madame Desvarennes, who was talking with
her daughter, and, full of business, thoughtlessly said:
"I will telegraph you as soon as I reach London."
"Are you going away?" inquired Micheline, a light dawning on her mind.
"Yes," said Cayrol; "I have an important matter to settle."
"And when do you start?" continued Micheline, in such a changed voice
that her mother was frightened.
"In a moment," answered the banker. "Allow me to leave you. I have
several orders to give."
And leaving the boudoir, he regained the little drawing-room.
Micheline, with clinched hands and fixed gaze, was saying to herself:
"She will be alone to-night, and has asked him to come to her. He told
me an untruth about his having to go to the club. He is going to see
her!"
And passing her hand across her brow, as if to drive away an unpleasant
thought, the young wife remained silent, dismayed and crushed.
"Micheline, what is the matter with you?" asked Madame Desvarennes,
seizing her daughter's hand, which was icy cold.
"Nothing," stammered Micheline.
"You are ill, I see. Come, let us go home. Come and kiss Jeanne--"
"I!" cried Micheline, with horror, instinctively recoiling as if
dreading some impure contact.
Madame Desvarennes became suddenly cold and calm. She foresaw a terrible
revelation, and observing her daughter narrowly, said: