Through all the preoccupations of science, the desire to see his native town, his house, his family, agitated Balthazar's mind.His daughter's letters had told him of the happy family events; he dreamed of crowning his career by a series of experiments that must lead to the solution of the great Problem, and he awaited Marguerite's arrival with extreme impatience.
The daughter threw herself into her father's arms and wept for joy.
This time she came to seek a recompense for years of pain, and pardon for the exercise of her domestic authority.She seemed to herself criminal, like those great men who violate the liberties of the people for the safety of the nation.But she shuddered as she now contemplated her father and saw the change which had taken place in him since her last visit.Monsieur Conyncks shared the secret alarm of his niece, and insisted on taking Balthazar as soon as possible to Douai, where the influence of his native place might restore him to health and reason amid the happiness of a recovered domestic life.
After the first transports of the heart were over,--which were far warmer on Balthazar's part than Marguerite had expected,--he showed a singular state of feeling towards his daughter.He expressed regret at receiving her in a miserable inn, inquired her tastes and wishes, and asked what she would have to eat, with the eagerness of a lover; his manner was even that of a culprit seeking to propitiate a judge.
Marguerite knew her father so well that she guessed the motive of this solicitude; she felt sure he had contracted debts in the town which he wished to pay before his departure.She observed him carefully for a time, and saw the human heart in all its nakedness.Balthazar had dwindled from his true self.The consciousness of his abasement, and the isolation of his life in the pursuit of science made him timid and childish in all matters not connected with his favorite occupations.
His daughter awed him; the remembrance of her past devotion, of the energy she had displayed, of the powers he had allowed her to take away from him, of the wealth now at her command, and the indefinable feelings that had preyed upon him ever since the day when he had abdicated a paternity he had long neglected,--all these things affected his mind towards her, and increased her importance in his eyes.Conyncks was nothing to him beside Marguerite; he saw only his daughter, he thought only of her, and seemed to fear her, as certain weak husbands fear a superior woman who rules them.When he raised his eyes and looked at her, Marguerite noticed with distress an expression of fear, like that of a child detected in a fault.The noble girl was unable to reconcile the majestic and terrible expression of that bald head, denuded by science and by toil, with the puerile smile, the eager servility exhibited on the lips and countenance of the old man.
She suffered from the contrast of that greatness to that littleness, and resolved to use her utmost influence to restore her father's sense of dignity before the solemn day on which he was to reappear in the bosom of his family.Her first step when they were alone was to ask him,--"Do you owe anything here?"
Balthazar colored, and replied with an embarrassed air:--"I don't know, but Lemulquinier can tell you.That worthy fellow knows more about my affairs than I do myself."Marguerite rang for the valet: when he came she studied, almost involuntarily, the faces of the two old men.
"What does monsieur want?" asked Lemulquinier.
Marguerite, who was all pride and dignity, felt an oppression at her heart as she perceived from the tone and manner of the servant that some mortifying familiarity had grown up between her father and the companion of his labors.
"My father cannot make out the account of what he owes in this place without you," she said.
"Monsieur," began Lemulquinier, "owes--"
At these words Balthazar made a sign to his valet which Marguerite intercepted; it humiliated her.
"Tell me all that my father owes," she said.
"Monsieur owes, here, about three thousand francs to an apothecary who is a wholesale dealer in drugs; he has supplied us with pearl-ash and lead, and zinc and the reagents--""Is that all?" asked Marguerite.
Again Balthazar made a sign to Lemulquinier, who replied, as if under a spell,--"Yes, mademoiselle."
"Very good," she said, "I will give them to you."Balthazar kissed her joyously and said,--"You are an angel, my child."
He breathed at his ease and glanced at her with eyes that were less sad; and yet, in spite of this apparent joy, Marguerite easily detected the signs of deep anxiety upon his face, and felt certain that the three thousand francs represented only the pressing debts of his laboratory.
"Be frank with me, father," she said, letting him seat her on his knee; "you owe more than that.Tell me all, and come back to your home without an element of fear in the midst of the general joy.""My dear Marguerite," he said, taking her hands and kissing them with a grace that seemed a memory of her youth, "you would scold me--""No," she said.
"Truly?" he asked, giving way to childish expressions of delight."Can I tell you all? will you pay--""Yes," she said, repressing the tears which came into her eyes.
"Well, I owe--oh! I dare not--"
"Tell me, father."
"It is a great deal."
She clasped her hands, with a gesture of despair.
"I owe thirty thousand francs to Messieurs Protez and Chiffreville.""Thirty thousand francs," she said, "is just the sum I have laid by.Iam glad to give it to you," she added, respectfully kissing his brow.