THE CONTRACT
The present contract might have a few days or a few weeks to run--I did not know. I knew nothing
about business; but I must do something.
I went down into the hall and found the telephone. I looked at the name signed at the bottom of
Carvalet's letter--Mercier--and the telephone number in Paris. I rang, and when I got the number in
Paris I said, "I wish to speak to Monsieur Mercier. This is Comte Jean de Gue." After a short wait
he answered.
I said, "I'm sorry I wasn't able to write an answer to your letter. I have only just reached home. I
have now seen my brother and we are willing to accept your lower prices."
There was silence. Then a very surprised voice said, "But, Monsieur le Comte, we, went into the
question very carefully last week, and you refused. Do you mean that you now wish to consider the
matter again?"
"Yes," I said. "My brother and I are willing to pay out of our own pockets to keep the factory open
and our men at work. I am speaking after talking the matter over with my family. It is, as you know,
a family business."
"Yes, Monsieur, but last week you said that you didn't care what happened to the factory, and that
you were not willing to pay if it lost money."
"I've changed my mind. I'm willing to agree to anything if we can keep the factory open."
"Yes, Monsieur. I will study the figures again and write to you in a few days."
I put down the telephone receiver.
I must find out about Jean de Gue's money. How much had he in the bank?"
I went through the dining-room into the library. I had Jean de Gue's keys in the pocket of the
clothes which I put on in the hotel. There was a desk in the corner of the room. One of the keys
fitted. I opened the desk. It was full of papers, all in disorder. Letters and bills had been
thrown in any-how. There was a big book of photographs. I opened it and looked at pictures of
Jean's father and of Jean as a child. Blanche as a child was very like Marie-Noel. There were very
few pictures of Paul, but a great many of a man called Maurice Duval at the end of the book. He was
seen standing in the glass factory and at the chateau. There was one of him and Jean standing
together. Then the pictures ended. That was, perhaps, just before the war.
I had not found the bank book though I learnt the name of the bank from his papers.
Then, in a secret part of the desk, I saw something--a pistol. I opened it: it was fully loaded.
Just then I heard Marie-Noel's voice:" Papa! Where are you?"
I hastily put the pistol back and shut the desk.
Maire-Noel ran into the room. "Grandmother is awake. She wants us both to go to her room for tea. I
have been telling her about the presents. You made a mistake with the present for Blanche. She
wouldn't open it, so Mother and I opened. Inside it there was a note 'For my beautiful Bela, from
Jean'. So it wasn't really for Blanche. It was a very big beautiful bottle in a beautiful box. It
was called 'Desire.' It must have cost a great deal of money."
As we went upstairs Marie-Noel said, "It's a funny thing: everyone seems to be angry about those
presents. Mother was so pleased with hers, but now she's taken it off and put it with the rest of
the things in her jewel box. Who is Bela, Papa?"
I was thankful that I did not know, but I wish Jean de Gue had written more than the letter B.
"Someone," I said, "who likes that sort of thing."
"Does Mother know her? When I asked her she tore up the note and said it was some friend of yours in
Paris. Anyhow I don't see why you might have given Aunt Blanche a present when she hasn't spoken to
you for fifteen years."
Fifteen years! I remembered the photograph of Jean and Blanche as children with their arms round
each other. Something terrible must have come between them fifteen years ago.
We went into the great bedroom. The two dogs jumped off the bed and barked at me.
"It's very curious," said Marie-Noel. "All the dogs in this place have gone mad. Caesar was the same
this morning. He barked at Papa."
"Charlotte," said the Comtesse, "Take these dogs out." Then she turned to me. "Sit down here."
I told her about my visit to the glass factory about my visit to Julie's house and the burnt Andre.
"Don't do anything about it. We are poor enough without spending money on them. And we'll remain
poor, unless Francoise produces a son, or ... " She stopped and gave me a strange look, a look which
made me feel uncomfortable.
Dinner that night was very silent. When I went up to bed I saw that there was a bed in the dressing-
room. On the side-table there was the big bottle of "Desire".
"Perhaps you would rather sleep there." Francoise said in the bedroom.