The Mysteries Of Paris Volume Iii Part 19

"Then, my dear M. Ferrand, you will not grant me the favour I ask?"

"Some wild scheme, no doubt. Be inexorable, my dear Puritan," cried Madame d'Orbigny, laughing.

"You hear, sir? I must not contradict such a handsome lady."

"My dear M. Ferrand, let us speak seriously of serious things, and, you know, this is a most serious matter. Do you really refuse me?" inquired the viscount, with an anxiety which he could not altogether dissemble.

The notary was cruel enough to appear to hesitate; M. de Saint-Remy had an instant's hope.

"What, man of iron, do you yield?" said Madame d'Harville's stepmother, laughing still. "Do you, too, yield to the charm of the irresistible?"

"_Ma foi_, madame! I was on the point of yielding, as you say; but you make me blush for my weakness," added M. Ferrand. And then, addressing himself to the viscount, he said to him, with an accent of which Saint-Remy felt all the meaning, "Well then, seriously," (and he dwelt on the word), "it is impossible."

"Ah, the Puritan! Hark to the Puritan!" said Madame d'Orbigny.

"See M. Pet.i.t-Jean. He will think precisely as I do, I am sure, and, like me, will say to you 'No!'"

M. de Saint-Remy rushed out in despair.

After a moment's reflection he said to himself, "It must be so!" Then he added, addressing his cha.s.seur, who was standing with the door of his carriage opened, "To the Hotel de Lucenay."

Whilst M. de Saint-Remy is on his way to see the d.u.c.h.ess, we will present the reader at the interview between M. Ferrand and the stepmother of Madame d'Harville.

CHAPTER V.

THE CLIENTS.

The reader may have forgotten the portrait of the stepmother of Madame d'Harville as drawn by the latter. Let us then repeat, that Madame d'Orbigny was a slight, fair, delicate woman, with eyelashes almost white, round and palish blue eyes, with a soft voice, a hypocritical air, insidious and insinuating manners. Any one who studied her treacherous and perfidious countenance would detect therein craft and cruelty.

"What a delightful young man M. de Saint-Remy is!" said Madame d'Orbigny to Jacques Ferrand, when the viscount had left them.

"Delightful! But, madame, let us now proceed to our business. You wrote to me from Normandy that you desired to consult me upon most serious matters."

"Have you not always been my adviser ever since the worthy Doctor Polidori introduced me to you? By the way, have you heard from him recently?" inquired Madame d'Orbigny, with an air of complete carelessness.

"Since he left Paris he has not written me a single line," replied the notary, with an air of similar indifference.

Let the reader understand that these two persons lied most unequivocally to each other. The notary had seen Polidori (one of his two accomplices) recently, and had proposed to him to go to Asnieres, to the Martials, the fresh-water pirates, of whom we shall presently speak,--had proposed to him, we say, to poison Louise Morel, under the name of Doctor Vincent. Madame d'Harville's stepmother, on her side, had come to Paris in order to have a secret meeting with this scoundrel, who had been for a long time concealed, as we have said, under the name of Cesar Bradamanti.

"But it is not the good doctor of whom we have to discourse," continued Madame d'Harville's stepmother. "You see me very uneasy. My husband is indisposed; his health becomes weaker and weaker every day. Without experiencing serious alarm, his condition gives me much concern,--or rather, gives him much concern," said Madame d'Orbigny, drying her eyes, which were slightly moistened.

"What is the business, madame?"

"He is constantly talking of making his last arrangements,--of his will."

Here Madame d'Orbigny concealed her face in her pocket-handkerchief for some minutes.

"It is very afflicting, no doubt," said the notary; "but the precaution has nothing terrible in itself. And what may be M. d'Orbigny's intentions, madame?"

"Dear sir! How do I know? You may suppose that when he commences the subject I do not allow him to dwell on it long."

"Well, then, he has not up to this time told you anything positive?"

"I think," replied Madame d'Orbigny, with a deep sigh,--"I think that he wishes to leave me not only all that the law will allow him to bequeath to me, but--But, really, I pray of you, do not let us talk of that."

"Of what, then, shall we talk?"

"Alas, you are right, pitiless man! I must, in spite of myself, return to the sad subject that brings me here to see you. Well, then, M.

d'Orbigny's inclination extends so far that he desires to sell a part of his estate and present me with a large sum."

"But his daughter--his daughter?" exclaimed M. Ferrand, harshly. "I must tell you that, during the last year, M. d'Harville has placed his affairs in my hands, and I have lately purchased a splendid estate for him. You know my blunt way of doing business? Whether M. d'Harville is my client or not is no matter. I stand up only for justice. If your husband makes up his mind to behave to his daughter in a way that I do not approve, I tell you plainly he must not reckon on my a.s.sistance.

Upright and downright, such has always been my line of conduct."

"And mine, also! Therefore it is that I am always saying to my husband what you now say to me, 'Your daughter has behaved very ill to you, that is but too true; but that is no reason why you should disinherit her.'"

"Very good,--quite right! And what answer does he make to that?"

"He replies, 'I shall leave my daughter twenty-five thousand livres of annual income (1,000_l._); she had more than a million (40,000_l._) from her mother. Her husband has an enormous fortune of his own; and, therefore, why should I not leave you the residue of my fortune,--you, my tender love, the sole support, the only comfort of my declining years, my guardian angel?' I repeat these very flattering words to you,"

said Madame d'Orbigny, with an air of modesty, "to prove to you how kind M. d'Orbigny is to me. But, in spite of that, I have always refused his offers; and, as he perceives that, he has compelled me to come and seek you."

"But I do not know M. d'Orbigny."

"But he, like all the world, knows your high character."

"But why should he send you to me?"

"To put an end to all my scruples and refusals, he said to me, 'I will not ask you to consult my notary, because you will think him too much devoted to my service; but I will trust myself entirely to the decision of a man of whose extreme probity of character I have heard you so frequently speak in praise,--M. Jacques Ferrand. If he considers your delicacy compromised by your consent to my wishes, we will not say another word on the subject; otherwise, you must comply without a word.'

'I consent!' I replied to M. d'Orbigny. And so now you are the arbitrator between us. 'If M. Ferrand approves,' added my husband, 'I will send him ample power to realise in my name my rents and investments, and he shall keep the proceeds in his hands as a deposit; and thus, after my decease, my tender love, you will at least have an existence worthy of you.'"

Perhaps M. Ferrand never had greater need of his spectacles than at this moment; for, had he not worn them, Madame d'Orbigny would doubtless have been struck with the sparkle of the notary's eyes, which seemed to dart fire when the word deposit was p.r.o.nounced. However, he replied, in his usual coa.r.s.e way:

"It is very tiresome. This is the tenth or twelfth time that I have been made the arbitrator in a similar matter, always under the pretence of my honesty,--that is the only word in people's mouths. My honesty!--my honesty! What a fine quality, forsooth!--which only brings me in a great deal of tiresome trouble."

"My good M. Ferrand! Come, do not repulse me. You will write at once to M. d'Orbigny, who only awaits your letter to send you full powers to act for him, and to realise the sum required."

"Which amounts to how much?"

"Why, I think he said four or five hundred thousand francs" (16,000_l._ or 20,000_l._).

"The sum, after all, is not so much as I thought. You are devoted to M.

d'Orbigny. His daughter is very rich; you have nothing. That is not just; and I really think you should accept it."

"Really, do you think so, indeed?" said Madame d'Orbigny, who was the dupe, like the rest of the world, of the proverbial probity of the notary, and who had not been enlightened by Polidori in this particular.

"You may accept," he repeated.