Part 11 (1/2)
”Five hundred thousand francs!”
”Ah! my friend, you can imagine my delight, my amazement. I almost fainted, and the notary had to give me vinegar and salts.”
”What! you, Robineau, a philosopher, a bachelor without ambition, who despised riches,--you fainted when you learned that you had inherited a fortune?”
”Oh! my dear fellow, a man may be a philosopher, you know--that's all right; indeed it's the best thing one can do when one has to endure privations; but he may have a heart all the same, and be easily moved; and five hundred thousand francs! I thought at first that that meant a million a year, but, on figuring it out, I found that it was only twenty-five thousand francs at five per cent.--But when a man is sharp and knows how to go about it, he can make his money bring in six or eight or ten per cent.--Isn't that so, my friend?”
”My dear Robineau, I know very well how to spend money, but I know absolutely nothing about investing it.”
”Of course not! You have never been a clerk in the Treasury!”
”However, if I should give you any advice, it would be to invest your money in solid securities, consols or real estate. It seems to me that a man who has been accustomed to live on fifteen hundred francs a year may do very well with twenty thousand; and it would be better to have no more than that and have it perfectly safe, than to expose your fortune to the risks of business. That is my opinion, my dear Robineau; a man may be very heedless about his own concerns and yet advise others wisely; so you will do well to----”
Robineau, who seemed to grew impatient toward the end of Alfred's harangue, had risen and was walking about the room humming; at last he interrupted his friend.
”All right! all right!” he cried; ”I thank you for your advice, but I flatter myself that I shall be able to manage my fortune as well as any other man. Let us drop the subject, my friend, and think only of pleasures, of merry-making. In my opinion, when a man is rich, life should be simply a torrent of enjoyments.--Finish your dressing and let's go out to breakfast; I invite you to breakfast with me at the Cafe Anglais, or the Cafe de la Bourse, or Very's, if you choose.”
”You come too late, my dear Robineau; I have breakfasted.”
”What's the odds? You can begin again.”
”No indeed! Do you think that because one is rich, one can eat every minute of the day without making one's self sick?”
”The devil! that's a pity. I have already had some coffee and tea, but I want a dejeuner a la fourchette--that's better form.--By the way, my dear Alfred, as to form I will take your advice. I know that you follow the fas.h.i.+ons, and I propose to follow them too, strictly.--Twenty-five thousand francs a year! Why, just imagine my joy!”
”Faith, I congratulate you; for you are a good fellow at bottom.”
”If you knew how many plans I already have in my head! I mean to do so many things that I don't know where to begin!--But let us go to breakfast, I beg; you can pretend to eat.”
The two young men were about to go out when Edouard appeared. Robineau did not give him time to bid his friend good-morning, but threw his arms about his neck, embraced him and apprized him of the change that had taken place in his fortune. Edouard quietly congratulated him, and Robineau could not understand why the news did not produce a greater effect on him; he conceived that all those who were about him ought to be equally excited and enchanted on learning that he had twenty-five thousand francs a year.
”I came to ask you to breakfast with me,” Edouard said to Alfred.
Giving the latter no time to reply, Robineau seized Edouard's arm and cried:
”I am going to take you with us; we will breakfast together, yes, and dine too, if you have time; and while we are at the table, I'll tell you my plans, my ideas.--Look, here's a coat that I bought yesterday ready-made; I was in a hurry to have a new one. It fits me rather well, eh?--Let us go downstairs, and I'll show you my cabriolet.”
”What! have you bought a cabriolet and horses, already?”
”No, I have hired until I can buy them. I must have other lodgings; I can't keep my cabriolet in my present fourth floor apartment; I am going to look for one with a stable and carriage house.--Mon Dieu! how many things I have to do! Really, I had no idea that wealth kept one so busy.”
Alfred and Edouard glanced at each other with a smile; then they followed Robineau, who could not keep still, but ran through the rooms puffing like an ox.
They went downstairs, Robineau in the lead; he called his servant and shouted to him to get up behind his carriage.
”We shall founder your horse,” said Alfred; ”I might take my own cabriolet for Edouard and myself.”
”No, no,” said Robineau, ”I prefer to go together. My horse is strong; at all events, if he isn't a good one, I'll make them give me another to-morrow. Oh! I see to it that I am well served, I do!--Get up behind, Francois; I will drive.”
They all entered Robineau's cabriolet; he seated himself in the middle, took the reins and essayed to drive, because he was convinced that as soon as one is rich, one knows everything by instinct. He plied the whip vigorously, pulled the reins this way and that, and tormented his horse, who grazed curbstones and pedestrians every instant; and while his companions laughed at his exertions and at his manner of driving, he locked his wheel in the wheel of a cab, while trying to avoid a dray.