The Poor Gentleman | Page 4

Hoogebaen died during his journey in Germany; his heirs found your
bond for four thousand francs, and have directed me not to renew it. If
Monsieur Hoogebaen was your friend his heirs certainly are not.
During ten years you have failed to cancel this debt, and have paid two
thousand francs interest; so that, for your own sake, it is time the
transaction should be closed. Four months are still left, Monsieur
Vlierbeck, before the expiration of--"
"Only four months!" interrupted the poor gentleman, in a distressed
tone; "only four months, and then--oh, God!"
"Then your property will be sold according to law," said the notary,
dryly, finishing the sentence. "I can well understand, sir, that this is a
painful prospect; but, as it is a decree of fate that no one can control,
you have nothing to do but prepare to receive the blow. Let me offer to
sell your estate as if you 'were leaving the country.' By that means you
will escape the mortification of a forced sale."

For several moments Monsieur De Vlierbeck remained silent, his face
buried in his hands, as if crushed by the notary's advice and callousness.
At length he replied, calmly but humbly,--
"Your counsel is, perhaps, wise and generous; yet I will not follow it.
You know that all my sacrifices, my painful life, my constant agony,
have been patiently endured for the sake of my only child. You alone
know that all I do has but, one purpose,--a purpose which I hold sacred.
I have reason to believe that God is about granting the earnest prayer I
have daily offered for ten years. My daughter is beloved by a rich
gentleman, whose character I think I may confide in, and his family
appears to sympathize in all his views. _Four months!_ it is but a short
time, alas! yet, ought I, by anticipating the legal period of a sale, to
destroy all my fond hopes? Ought I instantly to welcome misery for
myself and my child when I see the chance of sure relief from all we
have suffered?"
"Then you want to deceive these people, whoever they may be? Do you
not suppose that by such a course of conduct you may make your
daughter still more wretched?"
At the word "_deceive_" the poor gentleman winced as if stung by an
adder, while a nervous thrill ran through his limbs and suffused his face
with a blush of shame.
"_Deceive!_" echoed he, bitterly; "oh, no! but I dare not, by a rash
avowal of my want, stifle the love that is growing up mutually.
Whenever it becomes necessary to be decided, I will make a loyal
disclosure of my condition. If the declaration ruin my hopes I will
follow your advice. I will sell all I have; I will quit the country and seek
in some foreign land to maintain myself and my beloved child by
teaching." He stopped for a moment, as if swallowing his grief, and
then continued, in a lower tone, half speaking to himself, "And, yet, did
I not promise my dear wife on her death-bed--did I not promise it on
the holy cross--that our child should not undergo such a fate? Ten years
of suffering--ten abject years--have not sufficed to realize my promise;
and now, at last, a feeble ray of hope struggles into my sombre
future--" He grasped the notary's hand, looked wildly but earnestly into

his eyes, and added, in suppliant tones, "Oh, my friend, help me! help
me in this last and trying effort; do not prolong my torture; grant my
prayer, and as long as I live I will bless my benefactor, the savior of my
child!"
The notary withdrew his hand as he answered, with some
embarrassment, "Yet, Monsieur De Vlierbeck, I cannot comprehend
what all this has to do with the loan of a thousand francs!"
De Vlierbeck thrust his rejected hand into his pocket as he replied,
"Yes, sir, it is ridiculous, is it not, to fall so low and to see one's
happiness or misery depend on things about which other persons may
laugh? And yet, alas! so it is! The young gentleman of whom I spoke to
you is to dine with us to-morrow in company with his uncle,--the uncle
invited himself,--and we have absolutely _nothing to give them!_
Besides this, my child needs some trifles to appear decently before the
guests, and it is probable that the civility will be returned by an
invitation from them. Our isolation cannot long conceal our want.
Sacrifices of all kinds have already been made to prevent our being
overwhelmed with mortification." As he uttered these last words he
drew forth his hand from his pocket with about two francs in small
change, which he held exposed on his palm