He can't find it
anywhere. I came to ask your wife if she hadn't kept it. When
she returns, please deliver my message; and if she has the
receipt, pray send it to me through the post."
The ruse was not particularly clever, but it was sufficiently so
to deceive Vantrasson. "To whom am I to send this receipt?" he
asked.
"To me, Victor Chupin, Faubourg Saint Denis," was the reply.
Imprudent youth! alas, he little suspected what a liberty M.
Fortunat had taken with his name on the evening he visited the
Vantrassons. But on his side the landlord of the Model Lodging
House had not forgotten the name mentioned by the agent. He
turned pale with anger on beholding his supposed creditor, and
quickly slipping between the visitor and the door, he said: "So
your name is Victor Chupin?"
"Yes, certainly."
"And you are in the employment of the Railway Company?"
"As I just told you."
"That doesn't prevent you from acting as a collector, does it?"
Chupin instinctively recoiled, convinced that he had betrayed
himself by some blunder, but unable to discover in what he had
erred. "I did do something in that line formerly," he faltered.
Vantrasson doubted no longer. "So you confess that you are a vile
scoundrel!" he exclaimed. "You confess that you purchased an old
promissory note of mine for fourpence, and then sent a man here to
seize my goods! Ah! you'd like to trample the poor under foot,
would you! Very well.
Pages:
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423