Part 42 (1/2)
The butler swore savagely. He saw what had happened.
”Who is this man?” asked Germain severely of the footmen.
”Cliquet, the butler, Monsieur,” stammered Constant, the oldest. ”He was not here when your lords.h.i.+p was.”
”Take him out of the gates,” replied the new master, ”and send for my intendant.”
Not long after Master Populus entered his presence, bowing and sc.r.a.ping, with a dozen smiles at once on his face.
”So you are the intendant?” said Germain.
”I have the honour, Monsieur le Chevalier--the greatest honour in seven parishes, Monsieur.”
”Be good enough to pardon me--you have no honour at all, sir.'
”How? what?” gasped Populus.
”None whatever. You are a rascal; but as long as I can make you behave yourself you shall remain intendant. You misrepresent my rent-rolls.”
”Not at all----”
”Listen to me. You bargain away my dues with my _censitaires_.”
”Nev----”
”You permit my butlers to drink out of my wine cellars. I warrant you have the pick of them at your own table.”
The Attorney did not know whether he was standing on his head or his heels, for the hit was correct.
”Finally,” Germain went on deliberately, ”you 'hold the keys of heaven and earth in Grelot,' and snap your fingers at 'this new young fool of a Seigneur who is away all the time at Versailles.'”
Master Populus seemed powerless to move or speak as he stood fiery-faced in the middle of the floor, looking despairingly at Germain, who was seated, very coolly glancing him over.
”Well, Master Populus, what do you think?” he proceeded, smiling, after, pausing a moment. ”Do you wish to continue the holding of the keys of heaven and earth? If so you must do it on _my_ terms. And _my_ terms are these--no more lying, no more false accounts, no more stealing from my poor, no more liberties taken with the property and people in your charge. Do you agree?”
The boldness of the opponent of Master Mule had evaporated. Two meek and scarcely whispered words alone left his lips--
”Yes, sir.”
”Another thing. Are you willing to choose my intendancy at a fair profit rather than election to the States-General and glory?”
A white wave pa.s.sed over Populus' countenance. At length, however, he again whispered--
”Yes, sir.”
”Well, then, Monsieur Intendant, we can proceed to business. How much grain have I in the granaries? I have the books here.”
”About four thousand bushels of wheat.”