第101章

Florine is at her wits'end;the Panorama closes to-morrow,and what will become of her she does not know.""Coralie's engagement at the Gymnase begins in a few days,"said Lucien;"she might do something for Florine.""Not she!"said Lousteau."Coralie is not clever,but she is not quite simple enough to help herself to a rival.We are in a mess with a vengeance.And Finot is in such a hurry to buy back his sixth----""Why?"

"It is a capital bit of business,my dear fellow.There is a chance of selling the paper for three hundred thousand francs;Finot would have one-third,and his partners besides are going to pay him a commission,which he will share with des Lupeaulx.So I propose to do another turn of 'chantage.'""'Chantage'seems to mean your money or your life?""It is better than that,"said Lousteau;"it is your money or your character.A short time ago the proprietor of a minor newspaper was refused credit.The day before yesterday it was announced in his columns that a gold repeater set with diamonds belonging to a certain notability had found its way in a curious fashion into the hands of a private soldier in the Guards;the story promised to the readers might have come from the Arabian Nights.The notability lost no time in asking that editor to dine with him;the editor was distinctly a gainer by the transaction,and contemporary history has lost an anecdote.Whenever the press makes vehement onslaughts upon some one in power,you may be sure that there is some refusal to do a service behind it.Blackmailing with regard to private life is the terror of the richest Englishman,and a great source of wealth to the press in England,which is infinitely more corrupt than ours.We are children in comparison!In England they will pay five or six thousand francs for a compromising letter to sell again.""Then how can you lay hold of Matifat?"asked Lucien.

"My dear boy,that low tradesman wrote the queerest letters to Florine;the spelling,style,and matter of them is ludicrous to the last degree.We can strike him in the very midst of his Lares and Penates,where he feels himself safest,without so much as mentioning his name;and he cannot complain,for he lives in fear and terror of his wife.Imagine his wrath when he sees the first number of a little serial entitled the Amours of a Druggist,and is given fair warning that his love-letters have fallen into the hands of certain journalists.He talks about the 'little god Cupid,'he tells Florine that she enables him to cross the desert of life (which looks as if he took her for a camel),and spells 'never'with two v's.There is enough in that immensely funny correspondence to bring an influx of subscribers for a fortnight.He will shake in his shoes lest an anonymous letter should supply his wife with the key to the riddle.

The question is whether Florine will consent to appear to persecute Matifat.She has some principles,which is to say,some hopes,still left.Perhaps she means to keep the letters and make something for herself out of them.She is cunning,as befits my pupil.But as soon as she finds out that a bailiff is no laughing matter,or Finot gives her a suitable present or hopes of an engagement,she will give me the letters,and I will sell them to Finot.Finot will put the correspondence in his uncle's hands,and Giroudeau will bring Matifat to terms."These confidences sobered Lucien.His first thought was that he had some extremely dangerous friends;his second,that it would be impolitic to break with them;for if Mme.d'Espard,Mme.de Bargeton,and Chatelet should fail to keep their word with him,he might need their terrible power yet.By this time Etienne and Lucien had reached Barbet's miserable bookshop on the Quai.Etienne addressed Barbet:

"We have five thousand francs'worth of bills at six,nine,and twelve months,given by Fendant and Cavalier.Are you willing to discount them for us?""I will give you three thousand francs for them,"said Barbet with imperturbable coolness.

"Three thousand francs!"echoed Lucien.

"Nobody else will give you as much,"rejoined the bookseller."The firm will go bankrupt before three months are out;but I happen to know that they have some good books that are hanging on hand;they cannot afford to wait,so I shall buy their stock for cash and pay them with their own bills,and get the books at a reduction of two thousand francs.That's how it is.""Do you mind losing a couple of thousand francs,Lucien?"asked Lousteau.

"Yes!"Lucien answered vehemently.He was dismayed by this first rebuff.

"You are making a mistake,"said Etienne.

"You won't find any one that will take their paper,"said Barbet.

"Your book is their last stake,sir.The printer will not trust them;they are obliged to leave the copies in pawn with him.If they make a hit now,it will only stave off bankruptcy for another six months,sooner or later they will have to go.They are cleverer at tippling than at bookselling.In my own case,their bills mean business;and that being so,I can afford to give more than a professional discounter who simply looks at the signatures.It is a bill-discounter's business to know whether the three names on a bill are each good for thirty per cent in case of bankruptcy.And here at the outset you only offer two signatures,and neither of them worth ten per cent."The two journalists exchanged glances in surprise.Here was a little scrub of a bookseller putting the essence of the art and mystery of bill-discounting in these few words.

"That will do,Barbet,"said Lousteau."Can you tell us of a bill-broker that will look at us?"