LXXIII
A sudden, somewhat sharp ringing of the door-bell rang through the house, and Mme. Cantinet and Mme. Sauvage allowed three black-coated personages to pass. First came Vitel, the justice of the peace, with his highly respectable clerk; third was Fraisier, neither sweeter nor milder for the disappointing discovery of a valid will canceling the formidable instrument so audaciously stolen by him.
We have come to affix seals on the property, the justice of the peace said gently, addressing Schmucke.
But the remark was Greek to Schmucke; he gazed in dismay at his three visitors.
We have come at the request of M. Fraisier, legal representative of M. Camusot de Marville, heir of the late Pons— added the clerk.
The collection is here in this great room, and in the bedroom of the deceased, remarked Fraisier.
Very well, let us go into the next room.—Pardon us, sir; do not let us interrupt with your breakfast.
The invasion struck an icy chill of terror into poor Schmucke.
Fraisier's venomous glances seemed to possess some magnetic influence over his victims, like the power of a spider over a fly. "M. Schmucke understood how to turn a will, made in the presence of a notary, to his own advantage," he said, "and he surely must have expected some opposition from the family. A family does not allow itself to be plundered by a stranger without some protest; and we shall see, sir, which carries the day—fraud and corruption or the rightful heirs.... We have a right as next of kin to affix seals, and seals shall be affixed. I mean to see that the precaution is taken with the utmost strictness."
Ach, mein Gott! how haf I offended against Hefn? cried the innocent Schmucke.
There is a good deal of talk about you in the house, said La Sauvage. "While you were asleep, a little whipper-snapper in a black suit came here, a puppy that said he was M. Hannequin's head-clerk, and must see you at all costs; but as you were asleep and tired out with the funeral yesterday, I told him that M. Villemot, Tabareau's head-clerk, was acting for you, and if it was a matter of business, I said, he might speak to M. Villemot. 'Ah, so much the better!' the youngster said. 'I shall come to an understanding with him. We will deposit the will at the Tribunal, after showing it to the President.' So at that, I told him to ask M. Villemot to come here as soon as he could.—Be easy, my dear sir, there are those that will take care of you. They shall not shear the fleece off your back. You will have some one that has beak and claws. M. Villemot will give them a piece of his mind. I have put myself in a passion once already with that abominable hussy, La Cibot, a porter's wife that sets up to judge her lodgers, forsooth, and insists that you have filched the money from the heirs; you locked M. Pons up, she says, and worked upon him till he was stark, staring mad. She got as good as she gave, though, the wretched woman. 'You are a thief and a bad lot,' I told her; 'you will get into the police-courts for all the things that you have stolen from the gentlemen,' and she shut up."
The clerk came out to speak to Schmucke. "Would you wish to be present, sir, when the seals are affixed in the next room?"
Go on, go on, said Schmucke; "I shall pe allowed to die in beace, I bresume?"
Oh, under any circumstances a man has a right to die, the clerk answered, laughing; "most of our business relates to wills. But, in my experience, the universal legatee very seldom follows the testator to the tomb."
I am going, said Schmucke. Blow after blow had given him an intolerable pain at the heart.
Oh! here comes M. Villemot! exclaimed La Sauvage.
Mennesir Fillemod, said poor Schmucke, "rebresent me."
I hurried here at once, said Villemot. "I have come to tell you that the will is completely in order; it will certainly be confirmed by the court,and you will be put in possession. You will have a fine fortune."
I? Ein fein vordune? cried Schmucke, despairingly. That he of all men should be suspected of caring for the money!
And meantime what is the justice of the peace doing here with his wax candles and his bits of tape? asked La Sauvage.
Oh, he is affixing seals.... Come, M. Schmucke, you have a right to be present.
No—go in yourself.
But where is the use of the seals if M. Schmucke is in his ownhouse and everything belongs to him? asked La Sauvage, doing justice in feminine fashion, and interpreting the Code according to their fancy, like one and all of her sex.
M. Schmucke is not in possession, madame; he is in M. Pons' house. Everything will be his, no doubt; but the legatee cannot take possession without an authorization—an order from the Tribunal. And if the next-of-kin set aside by the testator should dispute the order, a lawsuit is the result. And as nobody knows what may happen, everything is sealed up, and the notaries representing either side proceed to draw up an inventory during the delay prescribed by the law.... And there you are!
Schmucke, hearing such talk for the first time in his life, was completely bewildered by it; his head sank down upon the back of his chair—he could not support it, it had grown so heavy. Villemot meanwhile went off to chat with the justice of the peace and his clerk, assisting with professional coolness to affix the seals—a ceremony which always involves some buffoonery and plentiful comments on the objects thus secured, unless, indeed, one of the family happens to be present. At length the party sealed up the chamber and returned to the dining-room, whither the clerk betook himself. Schmucke watched the mechanical operation which consists in setting the justice's seal at either end of a bit of tape stretched across the opening of a folding-door; or, in the case of a cupboard or ordinary door, from edge to edge above the door-handle.
Now for this room, said Fraisier, pointing to Schmucke's bedroom, which opened into the dining-room.
But that is M. Schmucke's own room, remonstrated La Sauvage,springing in front of the door.
We found the lease among the papers, Fraisier said ruthlessly; "there was no mention of M. Schmucke in it; it is taken out in M. Pons' name only. The whole place, and every room in it, is a part of the estate. And besides—" flinging open the door—"look here, monsieur le juge de la paix, it is full of pictures."
So it is, answered the justice of the peace, and Fraisier thereupon gained his point.
