We were then in 1799; one year,
all but two months, had expired. At the end of those two months I went
to Bordin. Bordin took the note, had it protested, and sued Mongenod
for me. Meantime the disasters of the French armies had produced such
depreciation of the Funds that investors could buy a five-francs
dividend on seven francs capital. Therefore, for my hundred louis in
gold, I might have bought myself fifteen hundred francs of income.
Every morning, as I took my coffee and read the paper, I said to
myself: 'That cursed Mongenod! if it were not for him I should have
three thousand francs a year to live on.' Mongenod became by
/bete-noire/; I inveighed against him even as I walked the streets.
'Bordin is there,' I thought to myself; 'Bordin will put the screws on,
and a good thing, too.' My feelings turned to hatred, and my hatred to
imprecations; I cursed the man, and I believed he had every vice. 'Ah!
Monsieur Barillaud was very right,' thought I, 'in all he told me!'"
Monsieur Alain paused reflectively.
"Yes," he said again, "I thought him very right in all he told me. At
last, one morning, in came my debtor, no more embarrassed than if he
didn't owe me a sou. When I saw him I felt all the shame he ought to
have felt. I was like a criminal taken in the act; I was all upset.
The eighteenth Brumaire had just taken place. Public affairs were
doing well, the Funds had gone up.
Pages:
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93