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There's a loss. I
have found that myself," said Grandet, getting on his high horse.
"Jean, fill up all the holes except those at the bank of the river;
there you are to plant the poplars I have bought. Plant 'em there, and
they'll get nourishment from the government," he said, turning to
Cruchot, and giving a slight motion to the wen on his nose, which
expressed more than the most ironical of smiles.
"True enough; poplars should only be planted on poor soil," said
Cruchot, amazed at Grandet's calculations.
"Y-y-yes, monsieur," answered the old man satirically.
Eugenie, who was gazing at the sublime scenery of the Loire, and
paying no attention to her father's reckonings, presently turned an
ear to the remarks of Cruchot when she heard him say,--
"So you have brought a son-in-law from Paris. All Saumur is talking
about your nephew. I shall soon have the marriage-contract to draw up,
hey! Pere Grandet?"
"You g-g-got up very early to t-t-tell me that," said Grandet,
accompanying the remark with a motion of his wen. "Well, old
c-c-comrade, I'll be frank, and t-t-tell you what you want t-t-to
know. I would rather, do you see, f-f-fling my daughter into the Loire
than g-g-give her to her c-c-cousin. You may t-t-tell that everywhere,
--no, never mind; let the world t-t-talk."
This answer dazzled and blinded the young girl with sudden light. The
distant hopes upspringing in her heart bloomed suddenly, became real,
tangible, like a cluster of flowers, and she saw them cut down and
wilting on the earth. Since the previous evening she had attached
herself to Charles by those links of happiness which bind soul to
soul; from henceforth suffering was to rivet them. Is it not the noble
destiny of women to be more moved by the dark solemnities of grief
than by the splendors of fortune? How was it that fatherly feeling had
died out of her father's heart? Of what crime had Charles been guilty?
Mysterious questions! Already her dawning love, a mystery so profound,
was wrapping itself in mystery. She walked back trembling in all her
limbs; and when she reached the gloomy street, lately so joyous to
her, she felt its sadness, she breathed the melancholy which time and
events had printed there. None of love's lessons lacked. A few steps
from their own door she went on before her father and waited at the
threshold. But Grandet, who saw a newspaper in the notary's hand,
stopped short and asked,--
"How are the Funds?"
"You never listen to my advice, Grandet," answered Cruchot. "Buy soon;
you will still make twenty per cent in two years, besides getting an
excellent rate of interest,--five thousand a year for eighty thousand
francs fifty centimes."
"We'll see about that," answered Grandet, rubbing his chin.
"Good God!" exclaimed the notary.
"Well, what?" cried Grandet; and at the same moment Cruchot put the
newspaper under his eyes and said:
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