" Her words
were so true, and her manner so majestic, that M. Casimir was
silenced. Then, pointing to the door, she coldly added: "Go for
the justice of the peace, and don't set foot here again, except in
his company."
He bowed, stammered an unintelligible apology, and left the room.
"She always gets the best of me," he growled, as he went
downstairs. "But seals shall be put on everything."
When he entered the porter's lodge, M. Bourigeau was just getting
up, having slept all night, while his wife watched. "Quick,"
ordered M. Casimir; "make haste and finish dressing, and run for
the justice of the peace--we must have him here at once.
Everything must be done regularly and in order, upstairs."
The concierge was in despair. "Heavens!" he exclaimed; "so the
master's dead! What a misfortune!"
"You may well say so; and this is the second time such a thing has
happened to me. I remember now what a shrewd fellow named Chupin
once said to me. 'If I were a servant,' he remarked, 'before
entering a man's service, I'd make him insure his life for my
benefit in one of those new-fangled companies, so that I might
step into a handsome fortune if he took it into his head to die.'
But make haste, Bourigeau."
"That's a famous idea, but scarcely practicable," growled the
concierge.
"I don't know whether it is or not. But at all events I'm
terribly annoyed. The count was giving me enormous wages, and I
had got him nicely into my ways.
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