The Conspirators Part 49

"Sit down, then, and let us talk like two friends."

Buvat looked at Dubois with an air of stupefaction, which, at any other time, would have had the effect of making him burst out laughing, but now he did not seem to notice it, and taking a chair himself, he repeated with his hand the invitation which he had given with his voice.

There was no means of drawing back; the good man approached trembling, and sat down on the edge of his chair; put his hat on the ground, took his cane between his legs, and waited. All this, however, was not executed without a violent internal struggle as his face testified, which, from being white as a lily when he came in, had now become as red as a peony.

"My dear M. Buvat, you say that you make copies?"

"Yes, monseigneur."

"And that brings you in--?"

"Very little, monseigneur, very little."

"You have, nevertheless, a superb handwriting, M. Buvat."

"Yes, but all the world does not appreciate the value of that talent as your eminence does."

"That is true, but you are employed at the library?"----"I have that honor."

"And your place brings you--?"

"Oh, my place--that is another thing, monseigneur; it brings me in nothing at all, seeing that for five years the cas.h.i.+er has told us at the end of each month that the king was too poor to pay us."

"And you still remained in the service of his majesty? that was well done, M. Buvat; that was well done."

Buvat rose, saluted Dubois, and reseated himself.

"And, perhaps, all the while you have a family to support--a wife, children?"

"No, monseigneur; I am a bachelor."

"But you have parents, at all events?"

"No, monseigneur; but I have a ward, a charming young person, full of talent, who sings like Mademoiselle Berry, and who draws like Greuze."

"Ah, ah! and what is the name of your ward, M. Buvat?"

"Bathilde--Bathilde du Rocher, monseigneur; she is a young person of n.o.ble family, her father was squire to Monsieur the Regent, when he was still Duc de Chartres, and had the misfortune to be killed at the battle of Almanza."

"Thus I see you have your charges, my dear Buvat."

"Is it of Bathilde that you speak, monseigneur? Oh no, Bathilde is not a charge; on the contrary, poor dear girl, she brings in more than she costs. Bathilde a charge! Firstly, every month M. Papillon, the colorman at the corner of the Rue Clery, you know, monseigneur, gives her eighty francs for two drawings; then--"

"I should say, my dear Buvat, that you are not rich."

"Oh! rich, no, monseigneur, I am not, but I wish I was, for poor Bathilde's sake; and if you could obtain from monseigneur, that out of the first money which comes into the State coffers he would pay me my arrears, or at least something on account--"

"And to how much do your arrears amount?"

"To four thousand seven hundred francs, two sous, and eight centimes, monseigneur."

"Is that all?" said Dubois.

"How! is that all, monseigneur?"

"Yes, that is nothing."

"Indeed, monseigneur, it is a great deal, and the proof is that the king cannot pay it."

"But that will not make you rich."

"It will make me comfortable, and I do not conceal from you, monseigneur, that if, from the first money which comes into the treasury--"

"My dear Buvat," said Dubois, "I have something better than that to offer you."

"Offer it, monseigneur."

"You have your fortune at your fingers' ends."

"My mother always told me so, monseigneur."

"That proves," said Dubois, "what a sensible woman your mother was."

"Well, monseigneur! I am ready; what must I do?"

"Ah! mon Dieu! the thing is very simple, you will make me, now, and here, copies of all these."

"But, monseigneur--"

"That is not all, my dear Monsieur Buvat. You will take back to the person who gave you these papers, the copies and the originals, you will take all that that person gives you; you will bring them to me directly, so that I may read them, then you will do the same with other papers as with these, and so on indefinitely, till I say enough."

"But, monseigneur, it seems to me that in acting thus I should betray the confidence of the prince."

"Ah! it is with a prince that you have business, Monsieur Buvat! and what may this prince be called?"

"Oh, monseigneur, it appears to me that in telling you his name I denounce--"

"Well, and what have you come here for, then?"

"Monseigneur, I have come here to inform you of the danger which his highness runs, that is all."

"Indeed," said Dubois, in a bantering tone, "and you imagine you are going to stop there?"

"I wish to do so, monseigneur."

"There is only one misfortune, that it is impossible, my dear Monsieur Buvat."

"Why impossible?"

"Entirely."