A few days previously Hulot had insured his life for the sum of a
hundred and fifty thousand francs, for three years, in two separate
companies. Armed with the policies, of which he paid the premium, he
had spoken as follows to the Baron de Nucingen, a peer of the Chamber,
in whose carriage he found himself after a sitting, driving home, in
fact, to dine with him:--
"Baron, I want seventy thousand francs, and I apply to you. You must
find some one to lend his name, to whom I will make over the right to
draw my pay for three years; it amounts to twenty-five thousand francs
a year--that is, seventy-five thousand francs.--You will say, 'But you
may die'"--the banker signified his assent--"Here, then, is a policy
of insurance for a hundred and fifty thousand francs, which I will
deposit with you till you have drawn up the eighty thousand francs,"
said Hulot, producing the document form his pocket.
"But if you should lose your place?" said the millionaire Baron,
laughing.
The other Baron--not a millionaire--looked grave.
"Be quite easy; I only raised the question to show you that I was not
devoid of merit in handing you the sum. Are you so short of cash? for
the Bank will take your signature."
"My daughter is to be married," said Baron Hulot, "and I have no
fortune--like every one else who remains in office in these thankless
times, when five hundred ordinary men seated on benches will never
reward the men who devote themselves to the service as handsomely as
the Emperor did.
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