The Mysteries Of Paris Volume Iii Part 23
"Wait a moment." M. Ferrand shut the drawer of his bureau, and rose.
"Where are you going, my dear cashkeeper?"
"To fetch what will convince you of the truth of the reports as to the embarra.s.sment of my affairs," said the notary, ironically; and, opening the door of a small private staircase, which enabled him to go into the pavilion at the back without pa.s.sing through the office, he disappeared.
He had scarce left the room, when the head clerk rapped again.
"Come in," said Charles Robert.
"Is not M. Ferrand here?"
"No, my worthy pounce and parchment" (another joke of M. Robert).
"There is a lady with a veil on, who wishes to see my employer this moment on a very urgent affair."
"Worthy quill-driver, the excellent employer will be here in a moment, and I will inform him. Is the lady handsome?"
"One must be very keen-sighted to discover; for she has on a black veil, so thick that it is impossible to see her face."
"Really, really, I will make her show her face as I go out. I'll tell the governor as soon as he returns."
The clerk left the room.
"Where the devil has the attorney at law vanished?" said M. Charles Robert. "To examine the state of his finances, no doubt. If these reports are groundless, so much the better. And, when all is said and done, they can but be false reports. Men of Jacques Ferrand's honesty always have so many people jealous of them! Still, at the same time, I should just as well like to have my own cash. I will certainly buy the chateau in question. There are towers and Gothic turrets quite _a la Louis Quatorze_, the real _renaissance_, and, in a word, all that is most _rococo_. It would give me a kind of landed proprietor's sort of air which would be capital. It would not be like my _amour_ with that flirt of a Madame d'Harville. Has she really cut me? Can she really have given me the 'go-by?' No, no! I am not trifled with as that stupid porteress in the Rue du Temple, with her bob-wig, says. Yet this agreeable little flirtation has cost me at least one thousand crowns.
True, the furniture is left, and I have quite enough in my power to compromise the marchioness. But here comes the lawyer!"
M. Ferrand returned, holding in his hands some papers, which he handed to M. Charles Robert.
"Here," said he, "are three hundred and fifty thousand francs in bank-bills. In a few days we will balance the account of interest. Give me a receipt."
"What!" exclaimed M. Robert, astonished; "do not go to think that--"
"I don't think anything."
"But--"
"The receipt!"
"Dear cashkeeper!"
"Write it; and tell the persons who talk to you of my embarra.s.sments, how I reply to such suspicions."
"The fact is that, as soon as they hear this, your credit will be more solid than ever. But, really, take the money back again; I do not want it at this moment. I told you it was three months hence."
"Monsieur Charles Robert, no man suspects me twice."
"You are angry?"
"The receipt,--the receipt!"
"Man of iron, that you are!" said M. Charles Robert. "There!" he added, writing the receipt. "There is a lady, closely veiled, who desires to speak to you directly on a very urgent affair. Won't I have a good look at her as I go out! There's your receipt; is it all right?"
"Quite. Now I'll thank you to go out this way."
"And so not see the lady?"
"Precisely so."
And the notary rang; and when the chief clerk made his appearance, he said:
"Ask the lady to walk in. Good day, M. Robert."
"Well, I see I must give up the chance of seeing her. Don't bear malice, lawyer. Believe me, if--"
"There--there; that'll do. Good-bye." And the notary shut the door on M.
Charles Robert.
After the lapse of a few moments, the chief clerk introduced the d.u.c.h.ess de Lucenay, very simply attired, wearing a large shawl, and her features entirely concealed by a thick veil of black lace, depending from her watered silk bonnet of the same colour.
Madame de Lucenay, a good deal agitated, walked slowly towards the notary's bureau, who advanced a few paces to meet her.
"Who are you, madame; and what may be your business with me?" said Jacques Ferrand, abruptly; for Sarah's menaces and M. Charles Robert's suspicions had a good deal ruffled him. Moreover, the d.u.c.h.ess was clad so simply, that the notary did not see any reason why he should not be rude. As she did not immediately reply, he continued, abruptly:
"Will you be so kind as to inform me, madame?"
"Sir," she said, in a faltering voice, and endeavouring to conceal her face in the folds of her veil, "Sir, may I entrust you with a secret of extreme importance?"
"You may trust me with anything, madame. But it is requisite that I should know and see to whom I speak."
"That, sir, perhaps, is not necessary. I know that you are probity and honour itself--"
"To the point, madame,--to the point. I have some one waiting for me.
Who are you?"
"My name is of no consequence, sir. One--of--my friends,--a relative,--has just left you."
"His name?"
"M. Florestan de Saint-Remy."
"Ah!" said the notary; and he cast a scrutinising and steadfast glance on the d.u.c.h.ess. Then he added, "Well, madame?"
"M. de Saint-Remy has told me--all,--sir!"
"What has he told you, madame?"
"All!"
"What all?"