He never
relaxed in his efforts. Every other day some one was sent to
visit the debtor, to follow him, and harass him; he was surrounded
by M. Fortunat's agents; they pursued him to his office, shop, or
cafe--everywhere, continually, incessantly--and always with the
most perfect urbanity. At last even the most determined
succumbed; to escape this frightful persecution, they, somehow or
other, found the money to satisfy M. Fortunat's claim. Besides
Victor Chupin, he had five other agents whose business it was to
visit these poor wretches. A list was assigned to each man every
morning; and when evening came, he made his report to the cashier,
who in turn reported to his employer. This branch of industry
added considerably to the profits of M. Fortunat's other business,
and was the third and last string to his bow.
The report proceeded as usual, but it was quite evident that M.
Fortunat's thoughts were elsewhere. He paused each moment to
listen eagerly for the slightest sound outside, for before
receiving the coal-merchant he had told Victor Chupin to run to
the Rue de Courcelles and ask M. Casimir for news of the Count de
Chalusse. He had done this more than an hour before; and Victor
Chupin, who was usually so prompt, had not yet made his
appearance.
At last, however, he returned, whereupon M. Fortunat dismissed the
cashier, and addressed his messenger: "Well?" he asked.
"He is no longer living.
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