Part 97 (1/2)
”Oh! I ask nothing better.”
”And return about two o'clock. I will tell you then my decision as to Monsieur Cherami.”
The clock had just struck twelve when Cherami entered the banking-house on the following day. He cherished no vain hopes; he did not antic.i.p.ate a favorable reply; but, with his customary philosophy, he said to himself:
”That won't prevent me from going to Gustave's wedding and enjoying myself.”
As he was perfectly familiar with the way to the offices, Cherami entered the vestibule on the street floor; at the right was a door leading to the general offices, and in front, the door of a long corridor on which several other doors opened. That was the corridor he was to take to reach Gustave's office. Cherami pa.s.sed through the door and walked straight ahead. He had just pa.s.sed Monsieur Grandcourt's private office, when his foot struck something of considerable size; he stooped, looked to see what it was, and picked up a portfolio.
His first impulse was to examine what he had found. It was a very simple portfolio, of green morocco, with no monogram or initials; but in one of the compartments was a thick package of banknotes. Cherami counted them; they amounted to twenty-five thousand francs. He looked through all the other compartments, but found no letters, no papers, nothing to tell him to whom it belonged.
”Par la sambleu! this is a find!” said Cherami to himself. ”Twenty-five thousand francs! A very pretty little sum! Who can have lost it? I don't see anybody; but I mustn't forget that Gustave is waiting for me.”
He put the portfolio in his pocket, and kept on to the end of the corridor; then turned to the left, took another short corridor, saw a door in front of him, and turned the k.n.o.b; but the door did not open.
”What's this? locked? Yes, it is locked,” said Cherami to himself.
”Gustave must have forgotten the appointment. When he's just on the brink of matrimony, it's quite excusable. I may as well go. But that portfolio? Let's go and inquire at the cas.h.i.+er's office.”
The counting-room was at the end of the long corridor. Cherami had pa.s.sed it once without noticing that it was closed: it was Sunday, a holiday.
But as he turned back toward the door of the counting-room, Cherami exclaimed:
”Upon my word! everything is closed to-day! It's very strange! One would say that circ.u.mstances conspired to enable me to appropriate this portfolio with impunity!”
He walked back along the corridor as far as the banker's door; there he halted, saying:
”Let's see if this one is locked, too.”
But that door yielded to his pressure, and Cherami found Monsieur Grandcourt in his usual seat. He could not master a slight movement as Cherami appeared, but he instantly repressed it, and greeted him with the customary cool nod, and without rising.
”I have come once more to bore you, monsieur,” said his visitor; ”I had no intention of doing so, however; but Gustave made an appointment with me for this noon, and I do not find him.”
”I don't know where he is, monsieur.”
”He was to give me an answer about--about something. I can guess that he had nothing favorable to tell me; that is why he is not here.”
”In that case, monsieur, what do you want of me?”
”Oh! mon Dieu! nothing, except to hand you this portfolio, which I found in your corridor; and as the person who lost it will probably come here in search of it, you will please return it to him. If I had found anybody in the counting-room, I would not have disturbed you, I promise you!”
As he spoke, Cherami took the portfolio from his pocket and placed it on the banker's desk. The latter's expression had changed completely; the liveliest satisfaction was depicted on every feature. However, he strove to conceal his pleasure, as he said:
”Aha! you found this, you say--near here?”
”In the corridor. I knocked at several doors, but they are all locked.”
”Do you know what it contains?”
”Yes; twenty-five thousand francs in banknotes. Count them, and you will see. Nothing else: no letters, no address, nothing to indicate to whom it belongs.”