The Mysteries of Paris, Volume 3 of 6

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 Asnières, 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 César 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 assistance. 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 (1,000l.); she had more than a million (40,000l.) 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 pronounced. However, he replied, in his usual coarse 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" (16,000l. or 20,000l.).

"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.

"I will accept, then," said Madame d'Orbigny, with a sigh.

The chief clerk knocked at the door.

"Who is there?" inquired M. Ferrand.

"Madame the Countess Macgregor."

"Request her to wait a moment."

"I will go, then, my dear M. Ferrand," said Madame d'Orbigny. "You will write to my husband, since he wishes it, and he will send you the requisite authority by return of post?"

"I will write."

"Adieu, my worthy and excellent counsellor!"

"Ah, you do not know, you people of the world, how disagreeable it is to take charge of such deposits, – the responsibility which we then assume. I tell you that there is nothing more detestable in the world than this fine character for probity, which brings down upon one all these turmoils and troubles."

"And the admiration of all good people."

"Thank Heaven, I place otherwise than here below the hopes of the reward at which I aim!" said M. Ferrand, in a hypocritical tone.

To Madame d'Orbigny succeeded Sarah Macgregor.

Sarah entered the cabinet of the notary with her usual coolness and assurance. Jacques Ferrand did not know her, nor the motives of her visit, and he therefore scrutinised her carefully in the hope of catching another dupe. He looked most attentively at the countess; and, despite the imperturbability of this marble-fronted woman, he observed a slight working of the eyebrows, which betrayed a repressed embarrassment. The notary rose from his seat, handed a chair, and, motioning to Sarah to sit down, thus accosted her:

"You have requested of me, madame, an interview for to-day. I was very much engaged yesterday, and could not reply until this morning. I beg you will accept my apology for the delay."

"I was desirous of seeing you, sir, on a matter of the greatest importance. Your reputation for honesty, kindness, and complaisance has made me hope that the step I have taken with you will be successful."

The notary bent forward slightly in his chair.

"I know, sir, that your discretion is perfect."

"It is my duty, madame."