Louis was gazing at him in consternation, unable to believe his senses. "You make that offer to me?" he queried, rousing himself from his stupefaction. "Yes, and I am most happy to make it." "To me?--Louis Richard?" "To you, Louis Richard." "Richard is a common name, monsieur; you must take me for some one else." "Not at all! I know whom I am addressing; Louis Desiré Richard, only son of Alexander Timoleon Benedict Richard, aged sixty-seven years, born at Brie-Comte-Robert; domiciled at 23 Rue de Grenelle, public scribe by profession. As you see, there is no error, my young friend." "If you know my family so well, monsieur, you must be aware that my poverty does not permit me to contract such a loan." "Your poverty?--poor boy!" "But--" "This is abominable, a veritable outrage!" cried the business man in a tone of righteous indignation; "to bring up a young man in such error! to condemn him to spend the brightest years of his life in slavery! to reduce him to a shabby coat, blue stockings and laced shoes! But, happily--there is a Providence, and that Providence you see in me, my young friend. It appears to you under the features of Commander de La Miraudière!" "I am weary of this by-play, monsieur," returned Louis, impatiently. "Pray explain yourself clearly, or I shall go." "Very well!--You believe your father to be almost in want, do you not?" "I am not ashamed of our poverty--" "Oh! candid young man!" "What do you mean?" "Listen, and you will then bless me as your saviour forever after." Opening a voluminous register, he read the following statement: "Record of personal property of Alexandre Timoleon Benedict Richard (information taken by Credit Committee of the Bank of France, May 1, 18--.) Three thousand, nine hundred and twenty shares in the Bank of France (actual value) .. 924,300 frs. Bonds of the Mont-de-Piété ..................... 875,250 frs. Deposit in Bank of France ...................... 259,130 frs. Total ................................... 2,058,680 frs." "As you see, my innocent young friend," continued the pompous commander, "the known personal property of your esteemed and honorable father amounts to two millions, fifty-eight thousand, six hundred and eighty francs, according to official statistics. But everything leads us to believe that, like all misers, your worthy father has a good round lump of gold hidden somewhere. But even placing things at their lowest, you see that the author of your being possesses over two millions, at least. As his income is about a hundred thousand _livres per annum_, and he does not spend twelve hundred francs, you shall enjoy a very large fortune some day; you can, therefore, feel no astonishment at my offer." This revelation paralyzed the young man with amazement. A thousand confused thoughts struggled in his mind, and he stared at his companion stupidly, unable to utter a word.