This doubt was awakened in M. Fortunat’s mind by Chupin’s features, which were expressive of lively astonishment and discontent. “Excuse me, monsieur,” he said, at last, “I do not understand at all.”
“It’s very simple, however. The lady in question has a son about twenty. I know it--I’m sure of it. But she denies it; she conceals the fact, and he doesn’t even know her. She secretly watches over him, however--she provides him with money, and every day she finds some way of seeing him. Now, it is to my interest to find this son.”
Chupin’s mobile face became actually threatening in its expression; he frowned darkly, and his lips quivered. Still this did not prevent M. Fortunat from adding, with the assurance of a man who does not even suspect the possibility of a refusal: “Now, when shall we set about our task?”
“Never!” cried Chupin, violently; and, rising, he continued: “No! I wouldn’t let my good mother eat bread earned in that way--it would strangle her! Turn spy! I? Thanks--some one else may have the job!” He had become as red as a turkey-cock, and such was his indignation that he forgot his accustomed reserve and the caution with which he had so far concealed his antecedents. “I know this game--I’ve tried it!” he went on, vehemently. “One might as well take one’s ticket to prison by a direct road. I should be there now if it hadn’t been for Monsieur Andre. I was thirsting for gold, and, like the brigand that I was, I should have killed the man; but in revenge he drew me from the mire and placed my feet on solid ground once more. And now, shall I go back to my vile tricks again? Why, I’d rather cut my leg off! I’m to hunt down this poor woman--I’m to discover her secret so that you may extort money from her, am I? No, not I! I should like to be rich, and I shall be rich; but I’ll make my money honestly. I hope to touch my hundred-franc pieces without being obliged to wash my hands afterward. So, a very good evening to your establishment.”
M. Fortunat was amazed, and at the same time much annoyed, to find himself forsaken on account of such a trifle. He feared, too, that Chupin might let his tongue wag if he left his employment. So, since he had confided this project to Chupin, he was determined that Chupin alone should carry it into execution. Assuming his most severe and injured manner, he sternly exclaimed: “I think you have lost your senses.” His demeanor and intonation were so perfectly cool that Chupin seemed slightly abashed. “It seems that you think me capable of urging you to commit some dangerous and dishonorable act,” continued M. Fortunat.