Melmoth Reconciled | Page 5

cashier, walking into the porter's room, "what made you let
anybody come up after four o'clock?"
"I have been smoking a pipe here in the doorway ever since four o'clock," said the man,
"and nobody has gone into the bank. Nobody has come out either except the
gentlemen----"
"Are you quite sure?"
"Yes, upon my word and honor. Stay, though, at four o'clock M. Werbrust's friend came,
a young fellow from Messrs. du Tillet & Co., in the Rue Joubert."
"All right," said Castanier, and he hurried away.
The sickening sensation of heat that he had felt when he took back the pen returned in
greater intensity. "Mille diables!" thought he, as he threaded his way along the Boulevard
de Gand, "haven't I taken proper precautions? Let me think! Two clear days, Sunday and
Monday, then a day of uncertainty before they begin to look for me; altogether, three
days and four nights' respite. I have a couple of passports and two different disguises; is
not that enough to throw the cleverest detective off the scent? On Tuesday morning I
shall draw a million francs in London before the slightest suspicion has been aroused. My
debts I am leaving behind for the benefit of my creditors, who will put a 'P'* on the bills,
and I shall live comfortably in Italy for the rest of my days as the Conte Ferraro.
[*Protested.] I was alone with him when he died, poor fellow, in the marsh of Zembin,

and I shall slip into his skin. . . . Mille diables! the woman who is to follow after me
might give them a clue! Think of an old campaigner like me infatuated enough to tie
myself to a petticoat tail! . . . Why take her? I must leave her behind. Yes, I could make
up my mind to it; but--I know myself--I should be ass enough to go back to her. Still,
nobody knows Aquilina. Shall I take her or leave her?"
"You will not take her!" cried a voice that filled Castanier with sickening dread. He
turned sharply, and saw the Englishman.
"The devil is in it!" cried the cashier aloud.
Melmoth had passed his victim by this time; and if Castanier's first impulse had been to
fasten a quarrel on a man who read his own thoughts, he was so much torn up by
opposing feelings that the immediate result was a temporary paralysis. When he resumed
his walk he fell once more into that fever of irresolution which besets those who are so
carried away by passion that they are ready to commit a crime, but have not sufficient
strength of character to keep it to themselves without suffering terribly in the process. So,
although Castanier had made up his mind to reap the fruits of a crime which was already
half executed, he hesitated to carry out his designs. For him, as for many men of mixed
character in whom weakness and strength are equally blended, the least trifling
consideration determines whether they shall continue to lead blameless lives or become
actively criminal. In the vast masses of men enrolled in Napoleon's armies there are many
who, like Castanier, possessed the purely physical courage demanded on the battlefield,
yet lacked the moral courage which makes a man as great in crime as he could have been
in virtue.
The letter of credit was drafted in such terms that immediately on his arrival he might
draw twenty-five thousand pounds on the firm of Watschildine, the London
correspondents of the house of Nucingen. The London house had already been advised of
the draft about to be made upon them, he had written to them himself. He had instructed
an agent (chosen at random) to take his passage in a vessel which was to leave
Portsmouth with a wealthy English family on board, who were going to Italy, and the
passage-money had been paid in the name of the Conte Ferraro. The smallest details of
the scheme had been thought out. He had arranged matters so as to divert the search that
would be made for him into Belgium and Switzerland, while he himself was at sea in the
English vessel. Then, by the time that Nucingen might flatter himself that he was on the
track of his late cashier, the said cashier, as the Conte Ferraro, hoped to be safe in Naples.
He had determined to disfigure his face in order to disguise himself the more completely,
and by means of an acid to imitate the scars of smallpox. Yet, in spite of all these
precautions, which surely seemed as if they must secure him complete immunity, his
conscience tormented him; he was afraid. The even and peaceful life that he had led for
so long had modified the morality