"I repeat to yon, sir, that I am incapable of the infamy of which I am accused."

"You can tell that to M. Pet.i.t Jean."

"But I avow that the absence of Mr. Smith, who has so unworthily taken advantage of my good faith--"

"Infamous Smith!"

"The absence of Mr. Smith places me in a cruel position; I am innocent; let them accuse me, I will prove it, but such an accusation always injures a gallant man."

"What next?"

"Be generous enough to use the sum I have just paid you to quiet, in part, this third person."

"This money belongs to my client--it is sacred."

"But in two or three days I will repay you."

"You cannot do it."

"I have resources."

"None available, at least. Your furniture, your horses, no longer belong to you, as you may say; which to me has the appearance of fraud."

"You are very hard, sir. But admitting this, will I not turn everything into money, in a situation so desperate? Only as it is impossible for me to procure between this and to-morrow one hundred thousand francs, I conjure you, employ this money to withdraw this unhappy draught. Or you, who are so rich, make me an advance; do not leave me in such a position."

"I make myself responsible for a hundred thousand francs for you!

Really, are you a fool?"

"Sir, I supplicate you, in the name of my father, of whom you have spoken, be so kind as to--"

"I am kind for those who deserve it," said the notary, rudely; "an honest man; I hate sharpers; and I should not be sorry to see one of you fine gentlemen, who are without law or gospel, impious and debauched, some fine day, standing in the pillory as an example for others. But, I hear, your horses are very restless, sir viscount,"

said the notary, smiling, and showing his black teeth.

At this moment some one knocked at the door. "Who is it?" asked Jacques Ferrand.

"Her ladyship the Countess d'Orbigny," said the clerk.

"Beg her to wait a moment."

"It is the step-mother of the Marquise d'Harville," cried Saint Remy.

"Yes, sir. She has an appointment with me; so, good-morning."

"Not a word of this, sir," said Saint Remy, in a threatening tone.

"I have told you, sir, that a notary was as discreet as a confessor."

Jacques Ferrand rang the bell, and the clerk appeared.

"Show in her ladyship." Then, addressing the viscount, he added, "Take these thirteen hundred francs, sir; it will be so much on account with M. Pet.i.t Jean."

Lady d'Orbigny (formerly Madame Roland) entered as the viscount went out, his features contracted with rage for having uselessly humiliated himself before the notary.

"Oh, good-morning, Saint Remy!" said the countess; "it is a long time since I have seen you."

"Yes, madame; since the marriage of D'Harville, of which I was a witness, I have not had the honor to meet you," said Saint Remy, bowing, and suddenly a.s.suming a most smiling and affable expression.

"Since then, you have always remained in Normandy?"

"Dear me! yes. M. d'Orbigny cannot live now but in the country; and where he lives, I live. Thus you see in me a true 'county lady.' I have not been to Paris since the marriage of my dear step-daughter with excellent D'Harville. Do you see him often?"

"D'Harville has become very savage and very morose. I meet him very seldom in society," said Saint Remy, with a shade of impatience; for this conversation was insupportable, both from its inopportuneness, and because the notary seemed to be much amused. But the stepmother of Madame d'Harville, enchanted at this meeting with a beau of society, was not the woman to let her prey escape so easily.

"And my dear step-daughter," continued she, "is not, I hope, as savage as her husband?"

"Madame d'Harville is very fashionable, and always much sought after, as a pretty woman should be; but I fear, madame, I trespa.s.s on your time, and--"

"Not at all, I a.s.sure you. I am quite fortunate to meet the 'mold of form, the gla.s.s of fashion;' in ten minutes I shall know all about Paris, as if I had never left it. And your dear friend, De Lucenay, who was with you a witness of D'Harville's marriage?"

"More of an original than ever; he set out for the East, and he returned just in time to receive yesterday morning a thrust from a sword; of no great harm, however."

"The poor duke! and his wife, still beautiful and ravishing?"

"You know, madame, that I have the honor to be one of her best friends; my testimony on this subject would be suspected. Will you, madame, on your return to Aubiers, do me the honor to remember me to M. d'Orbigny?"

"He will be very sensible of your kind recollections, I a.s.sure you, for he often asks after you and your success. He says you remind him of the Duke de Lauzun."

"This comparison alone is quite an eulogium; but, unfortunately for me, it is much more kind than true. Adieu, madame; for I dare not hope that you will do me the honor to receive me before your departure."

"I should be distressed if you should take the trouble to call upon me. I am for a few days at furnished lodgings; but if, this summer or fall, you pa.s.s our way to some of the fashionable country-seats, grant us a few days only by way of contrast, and to rest yourself with some poor country-folks from the giddy round of the chateau life, so elegant and so extravagant; for it is always holidays where you go."

"Madame----"

"I need not tell you how happy D'Orbigny and myself would be to receive you; but adieu, sir: I fear that the benevolent humorist,"

pointing to the notary, "will become tired of our talk."

"Just the contrary, madame, just the contrary," said Ferrand, in an accent which redoubled the restrained rage of the viscount.

"Acknowledge that M. Ferrand is a terrible man," continued Madame d'Orbigny; "but take care, since he is, fortunately for you, charged with your affairs, he will scold you furiously; he is without pity.

But what do I say? A man like you to have M. Ferrand for notary--it is a sign of amendment: for every one knows he never lets his clients commit any follies without informing them of it. Oh! he does not wish to be the notary of every one." Then, addressing Jacques Ferrand, she said, "Do you know, Mr. Puritan, that this is a superb conversion you have made here--to render wise and prudent the king of fashion!"

"It is exactly a conversion, madame; M. le Vicomte leaves ray cabinet altogether different from what he entered it."

"When I say you perform miracles, it is not astonishing: you are a saint."

"Oh, madame, you flatter me," said Jacques Ferrand.

Saint Remy profoundly saluted Madame d'Orbigny; and at the moment of leaving the notary, wishing to try a last effort to soften him, he said, in a careless manner, which nevertheless disclosed profound anxiety:

"Decidedly, my dear M. Ferrand, you will not grant me what I ask?"