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 assizes, that's all." "I repeat to yon, sir, that I am incapable of the infamy of which I am accused." "You can tell that to M. Petit Jean." "But I avow that the absence of Mr. Smith, who has so unworthily taken advantage of my good faith--" "Infamous Smith!" "The absence of Mr. Smith places me in a cruel position; I am innocent; let them accuse me, I will prove it, but such an accusation always injures a gallant man." "What next?" "Be generous enough to use the sum I have just paid you to quiet, in part, this third person." "This money belongs to my client--it is sacred." "But in two or three days I will repay you." "You cannot do it." "I have resources." "None available, at least. Your furniture, your horses, no longer belong to you, as you may say; which to me has the appearance of fraud." "You are very hard, sir. But admitting this, will I not turn everything into money, in a situation so desperate? Only as it is impossible for me to procure between this and to-morrow one hundred thousand francs, I conjure you, employ this money to withdraw this unhappy draught. Or you, who are so rich, make me an advance; do not leave me in such a position." "I make myself responsible for a hundred thousand francs for you! Really, are you a fool?" "Sir, I supplicate you, in the name of my father, of whom you have spoken, be so kind as to--" "I am kind for those who deserve it," said the notary, rudely; "an honest man; I hate sharpers; and I should not be sorry to see one of you fine gentlemen, who are without law or gospel, impious and debauched, some fine day, standing in the pillory as an example for others. But, I hear, your horses are very restless, sir viscount," said the notary, smiling, and showing his black teeth. At this moment some one knocked at the door. "Who is it?" asked Jacques Ferrand. "Her ladyship the Countess d'Orbigny," said the clerk. "Beg her to wait a moment." "It is the step-mother of the Marquise d'Harville," cried Saint Remy. "Yes, sir. She has an appointment with me; so, good-morning." "Not a word of this, sir," said Saint Remy, in a threatening tone. "I have told you, sir, that a notary was as discreet as a confessor." Jacques Ferrand rang the bell, and the clerk appeared. "Show in her ladyship." Then, addressing the viscount, he added, "Take these thirteen hundred francs, sir; it will be so much on account with M. Petit Jean."