When General Montcornet took possession of Les Aigues, Gaubertin was no longer rich enough to give up his place.In order to marry his daughter to a rich banker he was obliged to give her a dowry of two hundred thousand francs; he had to pay thirty thousand for his son's practice; and all that remained of his accumulations was three hundred and seventy thousand, out of which he would be forced, sooner or later, to pay the dowry of his remaining daughter, Elise, for whom he hoped to arrange a marriage at least as good as that of her sister.
The steward determined to study the general, in order to find out if he could disgust him with the place,--hoping still to be able to carry out his defeated plan in his own interests.
With the peculiar instinct which characterizes those who make their fortunes by craft, Gaubertin believed in a resemblance of nature (which was not improbable) between an old soldier and an Opera-singer.
An actress, and a general of the Empire,--surely they would have the same extravagant habits, the same careless prodigality? To the one as to the other, riches came capriciously and by lucky chances.If some soldiers are wily and astute and clever politicians, they are exceptions; a soldier is, usually, especially an accomplished cavalry officer like Montcornet, guileless, confident, a novice in business, and little fitted to understand details in the management of an estate.Gaubertin flattered himself that he could catch and hold the general with the same net in which Mademoiselle Laguerre had finished her days.But it so happened that the Emperor had once, intentionally, allowed Montcornet to play the same game in Pomerania that Gaubertin was playing at Les Aigues; consequently, the general fully understood a system of plundering.
In planting cabbages, to use the expression of the first Duc de Biron, the old cuirassier sought to divert his mind, by occupation, from dwelling on his fall.Though he had yielded his "corps d'armee" to the Bourbons, that duty (performed by other generals and termed the disbanding of the army of the Loire) could not atone for the crime of having followed the man of the Hundred-Days to his last battle-field.
In presence of the allied army it was impossible for the peer of 1815
to remain in the service, still less at the Luxembourg.Accordingly, Montcornet betook himself to the country by advice of a dismissed marshal, to plunder Nature herself.The general was not deficient in the special cunning of an old military fox; and after he had spent a few days in examining his new property, he saw that Gaubertin was a steward of the old system,--a swindler, such as the dukes and marshals of the Empire, those mushrooms bred from the common earth, were well acquainted with.
The wily general, soon aware of Gaubertin's great experience in rural administration, felt it was politic to keep well with him until he had himself learned the secrets of it; accordingly, he passed himself off as another Mademoiselle Laguerre, a course which lulled the steward into false security.This apparent simple-mindedness lasted all the time it took the general to learn the strength and weakness of Les Aigues, to master the details of its revenues and the manner of collecting them, and to ascertain how and where the robberies occurred, together with the betterments and economies which ought to be undertaken.Then, one fine morning, having caught Gaubertin with his hand in the bag, as the saying is, the general flew into one of those rages peculiar to the imperial conquerors of many lands.In doing so he committed a capital blunder,--one that would have ruined the whole life of a man of less wealth and less consistency than himself, and from which came the evils, both small and great, with which the present history teems.Brought up in the imperial school, accustomed to deal with men as a dictator, and full of contempt for "civilians," Montcornet did not trouble himself to wear gloves when it came to putting a rascal of a land-steward out of doors.Civil life and its precautions were things unknown to the soldier already embittered by his loss of rank.He humiliated Gaubertin ruthlessly, though the latter drew the harsh treatment upon himself by a cynical reply which roused Montcornet's anger.
"You are living off my land," said the general, with jesting severity.
"Do you think I can live off the sky?" returned Gaubertin, with a sneer.
"Out of my sight, blackguard! I dismiss you!" cried the general, striking him with his whip,--blows which the steward always denied having received, for they were given behind closed doors.
"I shall not go without my release in full," said Gaubertin, coldly, keeping at a distance from the enraged soldier.
"We will see what is thought of you in a police court," replied Montcornet, shrugging his shoulders.
Hearing the threat, Gaubertin looked at the general and smiled.The smile had the effect of relaxing Montcornet's arms as though the sinews had been cut.We must explain that smile.
For the last two years, Gaubertin's brother-in-law, a man named Gendrin, long a justice of the municipal court of Ville-aux-Fayes, had become the president of that court through the influence of the Comte de Soulanges.The latter was made peer of France in 1814, and remained faithful to the Bourbons during the Hundred-Days, therefore the Keeper of the Seals readily granted an appointment at his request.This relationship gave Gaubertin a certain importance in the country.The president of the court of a little town is, relatively, a greater personage than the president of one of the royal courts of a great city, who has various equals, such as generals, bishops, and prefects;
