Mysteries of Paris Volume II Part 23

For a moment astonished, Saint Remy replied, dryly, "What?"

"Counterfeits," answered the notary, continuing to examine those he held closely.

"For what purpose do you make this remark to me, Sir?"

Jacques Ferrand stopped a moment, looked steadily at the viscount through his gla.s.ses; then, shrugging his shoulders, he turned again to counting and examining the bills.

"By George, Master Notary, you must know, when I ask a question, I am always answered!" cried Saint Remy, irritated beyond measure at the calmness of Jacques Ferrand.

"_These_ are good," said the notary, turning toward his bureau, whence he took a bundle of stamped papers, to which were annexed two bills of exchange; he afterward placed one of the notes for a thousand francs and three rouleaux of one hundred francs on the back of the papers; then he said to Saint Remy, pointing his finger to the money and bills, "There is what is to come to you from the forty thousand francs; my client has ordered me to collect the bill of costs."

The viscount had with great difficulty contained himself while Jacques Ferrand arranged his accounts. Instead of answering him and taking the money, he cried, in a voice trembling with anger, "I ask you, sir, why you said to me, respecting the bank bills that I have just given you, _that there were such things as forged notes?_"

"Why?"

"Yes."

"Because I have sent for you here concerning a forgery." The notary turned his green gla.s.ses full on the viscount.

"How does this forgery affect me?"

After a moment's pause Ferrand said, with a severe tone, "Are you acquainted, sir, with the duties of a notary?"

"The duties are perfectly clear to me, sir. I had just now forty thousand francs; I have now remaining but thirteen hundred."

"You are very jocose, sir. I will tell you, that a notary is to temporal affairs what a confessor is to spiritual ones; from his profession he often knows ign.o.ble secrets."

"What next, sir?"

"He is often obliged to be in relations with rogues."

"What after this, sir?"

"He ought, as much as in his power, to prevent an honorable name from being dragged in the mire."

"What have I in common with all this?"

"Your father has left you a respected name, which you dishoner, sir!"

"What do you dare to say?"

"But for the interest that this name inspires to all honest people, instead of being cited here before me, you would have been at this moment before the police."

"I do not comprehend you."

"About two months since, you discounted, through the agency of a broker, a bill for fifty-eight thousand francs, drawn by the house of Meulaert and Co., of Hamburgh, in favor of one William Smith, and payable in three months, at Grimaldi's, banker, in Paris."

"Well!"

"That bill is a forgery."

"That is not true."

"This bill is a forgery! the house of Meulaert has never contracted any engagement with William Smith; they do not know him."

"Can it be true!" cried Saint Remy, with as much surprise as indignation, "but then I have been horribly deceived, sir, for I received this bill as ready money."

"From whom?"

"From William Smith himself; the house of Meulaert is so well known, I knew so well myself the probity of Smith, that I accepted this bill in payment of a debt he owed me."

"William Smith has never existed; it is an imaginary person."

"Sir, you insult me!"

"His signature is as false as the others."

"I tell you, sir, that William Smith does exist; but I have, without doubt, been the dupe of a horrible breach of confidence."

"Poor young man!"

"Explain yourself!" cried Saint Remy, whose anxiety and humiliation were increased by this ironical pity.

"In a word, the actual holder of the bill is convinced that you have committed the forgery."

"Sir!"

"He pretends to have the proof; two days ago he came to me to beg me to send for you here, and to propose to return you this forged note, under an arrangement. So far, all was right; this is not; and I only tell you for information. He asks one hundred thousand francs. Today even, or to-morrow at noon, the forgery will be made known to the public prosecutor."

"This is indignity!"

"And what is more, absurdity. You are ruined. You were prosecuted for a sum that you have just paid me, from some resource I do not know of: this is what I told to this third party. He answered, 'That a certain great lady, who is very rich, would not leave you in this embarra.s.sment.'"

"Enough, sir, enough!"

"Another indignity! another absurdity! we agree."

"In short, sir, what do they want?"

"Unworthily to take advantage of an unworthy action. I have consented to make this proposition known to you, in branding it as an honest man ought to brand it. Now it is your affair. If you are guilty, choose between the court of a.s.size or the terms proposed. My part is altogether professional. I will have nothing more to do with so dirty a business. The third party's name is M. Pet.i.t Jean, oil merchant; he lives on the banks of the Seine, No. 10, Quai de Billy. Settle with him. You are worthy of each other, if you are a forger, as he affirms."

Saint Remy had entered the notary's with an insolent voice and lofty head. Although he had committed in his life some disgraceful actions, there remained in him still a certain pride of lineage--a natural courage which had never failed him. At the commencement of this conversation, regarding the notary as an adversary quite unworthy of him, he treated him with contempt.

When Jacques Ferrand spoke of forgery, the viscount felt himself crushed. He found the notary had the advantage in his turn. Except for his great self-command, he could not have concealed the great impression made upon him by this unexpected accusation, for the consequences might be most fatal to him, of which even the notary had no idea.

After a moment's reflection and silence, he determined--though so proud, so irritable, so vain of his bravery--to throw himself on the mercy of this vulgar man, who had so roughly spoken the austere language of probity. "Sir, you give me a proof of interest for which I thank you; I regret the harshness of my opening words," said Saint Remy, in a cordial manner.

"I do not interest myself in you at all," answered the notary, brutally. "Your father was honor itself; I did not wish to see his name in the court of a.s.sizes, that's all."