The Mysteries Of Paris Volume Iii Part 17

"Monsieur Notary! I would wish you to learn that, when I ask a question, I have an answer!" cried M. de Saint-Remy, exasperated at the coolness of Jacques Ferrand.

"These notes are good," said the notary, turning towards his bureau, whence he took a small bundle of stamped papers, to which were annexed two bills of exchange; then, putting down one of the bank-notes for one thousand francs and three rouleaus, of one hundred francs each, on the table, he said to M. de Saint-Remy, pointing to the money and the bills with his finger:

"Here's your change out of the forty thousand francs; my client has desired me to deduct the expenses."

The viscount had contained himself with great difficulty whilst Jacques Ferrand was making out the account, and, instead of taking up the money, he exclaimed, in a voice that literally shook with pa.s.sion:

"I beg to know, sir, what you meant by saying, whilst you looked at the bank-notes which I handed to you, that you 'had seen forged notes?'"

"What I meant?"

"Yes."

"Because I sent for you to come here on a matter of forgery."

And the notary fixed his green spectacles on the viscount.

"And how can this forgery in any way affect me?"

After a moment's silence, M. Ferrand said to the viscount, with a stern air:

"Are you aware, sir, of the duties which a notary fulfils?"

"Those duties appear to me, sir, very simple indeed; just now I had forty thousand francs, now I have thirteen hundred francs left."

"You are facetious, sir; I will tell you that a notary is, in temporal matters, what a confessor is in spiritual affairs; by virtue of his position, he often becomes possessed of disgraceful secrets."

"Go on, I beg, sir."

"He is often brought into contact with rogues."

"Go on, sir."

"He ought, as well as he can, to prevent an honourable name from being dragged through the mud."

"What is all this to me?"

"Your father's name is deservedly respected; you, sir, dishonour it."

"How dare you, sir, to address such language to me?"

"But for the interest which the gentleman, of whom I speak, inspires in the minds of all honest men, instead of being summoned before me, you would, at this moment, be standing before a police-magistrate."

"I do not understand you."

"Two months since, you discounted, through an agent, a bill for fifty-eight thousand francs (2,320_l._), accepted by the house of Meulaert & Company, of Hamburg, in favour of a certain William Smith, payable in three months, at the bank of M. Grimaldi, of Paris."

"Well?"

"That bill was a forgery."

"Impossible!"

"That bill was a forgery! the firm of Meulaert never gave such a bill to William Smith, and never had such a transaction with such an individual."

"Can this be true?" exclaimed M. de Saint-Remy, with equal surprise and indignation; "then I have been most infamously deceived, sir, for I took the bill as ready money."

"From whom?"

"From M. William Smith himself; the house of Meulaert is so well known, and I was so firmly convinced myself of the honour of M. William Smith, that I took the bill in payment of a debt he owed me."

"William Smith never existed,--he is an imaginary personage."

"Sir, you insult me!"

"His signature is forged and false, as well as all the rest of the bill."

"I a.s.sert that M. William Smith is alive; but I must have been the dupe of a horrible abuse of confidence."

"Poor young man!"

"Explain yourself, sir."

"The actual holder of the bill is convinced you committed the forgery."

"Sir!"

"He declares that he has proof of this; and he came to me the day before yesterday, requesting me to see you, and offer to give up this forged doc.u.ment, under certain conditions. Up to this point all was straightforward, but what follows is not so, and I only speak to you now according to my instructions. He requires one hundred thousand francs (4,000_l._) down this very day, or else to-morrow, at twelve o'clock at noon, the forged bill will be handed over to the king's attorney-general."

"This is infamous, sir!"

"It is more,--it is absurd. You are a ruined man; you were all but arrested for the sum which you have just paid me, and which you have sc.r.a.ped up I cannot tell from where; and this I have told to the holder of the bill, who replied, that a certain great and very rich lady would not allow you to remain in this embarra.s.sment."

"Enough, sir! enough!"

"More infamous! more absurd! agreed."

"Well, sir, and what is required of me?"

"Why, to work out infamously an action infamously commenced. I have consented to communicate this proposition to you, although it disgusts me, as an honest man ought to feel disgust on such an occasion; but now it is your affair. If you are guilty, choose between a criminal court and the means of ransom offered to you; my duty is only an official one, and I will not dirty my fingers any further in so foul a transaction.

The third party is called M. Pet.i.t-Jean, an oil merchant, who lives on the banks of the Seine, Quai de Billy, No. 10. Make your arrangements with him; you are fit to meet if you are a forger, as he declares."

M. de Saint-Remy had entered Jacques Ferrand's study with a lip all scorn, and a head all pride. Although he had in his life committed some shameful actions, he still retained a certain elevation of race, and an instinctive courage, which had never forsaken him. At the beginning of this conversation, considering the notary as an adversary beneath him, he had been content to treat him with disdain; but, when Jacques Ferrand began to talk of forgery, he felt annihilated; in his turn he felt himself rode over by the notary. But for the entire command of self which he possessed, he could not have concealed the terrible impression which this unexpected revelation disclosed to him, for it might have incalculable consequences to him,--consequences unsuspected by the notary himself. After a moment of silence and reflection, he resigned himself,--he, so haughty, so irritable, so vain of his self-possession!--to beg of this coa.r.s.e man, who had so roughly addressed to him the stern language of probity:

"Sir, you give me a proof of your interest, for which I thank you, and I regret that any hasty expressions should have escaped me," said M. de Saint-Remy, with a tone of cordiality.

"I do not take the slightest interest in or for you," replied the notary, brutally. "Your father is the soul of honour, and I would not wish that in the depth of that solitude in which he lives, as they tell me, at Angers, he should learn that his name has been exposed, tarnished, degraded, in a court of justice, that's all."

"I repeat to you, sir, that I am incapable of the infamy which is attributed to me."