His features
were regular, but the abuse of alcohol and all sorts of excesses
had greatly marred them, and their present expression was one of
ferocious brutishness. "What's that you are talking about?" he
asked in a harsh, grating voice. "Is it to mock people that you
come and ask for money on the 15th of October--rent day? Where
have you seen any money left after the landlord has made his
round? Besides, what is this bill? Give it me to look at."
M. Fortunat was not guilty of such folly; he did not intrust the
paper to Vantrasson's hand, but held it a little distance from
him, and then read it aloud.
When he had finished: "That note fell due eighteen months ago,"
declared Vantrasson. "It is worth nothing now "
"You are mistaken--a note of this kind is of value any time within
five years after the day it goes to protest."
"Possibly; but as Barutin has failed, and gone no one knows where,
I am released----"
"Another mistake on your part. You owe these five hundred and
eighty-three francs to the person who bought this note at
Barutin's sale, and who has given my employer orders to prosecute----"
The blood had risen to Vantrasson's face. "And what of that? Do
you suppose I've never been sued for debts before? Even the king
can't take anything from a person who possesses nothing; and I own
nothing. My furniture is all pawned or mortgaged, and my stock is
not worth a hundred francs.
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