dream, the height of his ambition, was to be ranked among the great manufacturers of France.
He was prouder of being called “iron-founder” than of his marquisate.
During his adventurous life, he had met with so many titled gamblers and cut-throats, that he no longer believed in the prestige of nobility. It was impossible to distinguish the counterfeit from the genuine. He thought what was so easily imitated was not worth the having.
Dearly bought experience had taught him that our unromantic century attaches no value to armorial bearings, unless their possessor is rich enough to display them upon a splendid coach.
One can be a marquis without a marquisate, but it is impossible to be a forge-master without owning iron-works.
Louis now thirsted for the homage of the world. All the badly digested humiliations of the past weighed upon him.
He had suffered so much contempt and scorn from his fellow-men, that he burned to avenge himself. After a disgraceful youth, he longed to live a respected and honored old age.
His past career disturbed him little. He was sufficiently acquainted with the world to know that the noise of his coach-wheels would silence the jeers of those who knew his former life.
These thoughts fermented in Louis’s brain as he journeyed from Pau to Paris. He troubled his mind not in the least about Raoul, determined to use him as a tool so long as he needed his services, and then pay him a large sum if he would go back to England.
All these plans and thoughts were afterward found noted down in the diary which he had in his pocket at the time of the journey.
The first interview between the accomplices took place at the Hotel du Louvre.
Raoul, having a practical turn of mind, said he thought that they both ought to be contented with the result already obtained, and that it would be folly to try and grasp anything more.
“What more do we want?” he asked his uncle. “We now possess over a million; let us divide it and keep quiet. We had better be satisfied with our good luck, and not tempt Providence.”
But this moderation did not suit Louis.
“I am rich,” he replied, “but I desire more than wealth. I am determined to marry Madeleine: I swear she shall be my wife! In the first place, I madly love her, and then, as the nephew of the most eminent banker in Paris, I at once gain high position and public consideration.”
“I tell you, uncle, your courtship will involve you in great risks.”
“I don’t care if it does. I choose to run them. My intention is to share my fortune with you; but I will not do so till the day after my wedding. Madeleine’s fortune will then be yours.”
Raoul was silent. Clameran held the money, and was therefore master of the situation.
“You don’t seem to anticipate any difficulty in carrying out your wishes,” he said discontentedly; “how are you to account for your suddenly acquired fortune? M. Fauvel knows that a Clameran lived at Oloron, and had money in his bank. You tell him that you never heard of this person bearing your name, and then, at the end of the month, you come and say that you have inherited his fortune. People don’t inherit fortunes from perfect strangers; so you had better trump up some relationship.”
“You are an innocent youth, nephew; your ingenuousness is amusing.”
“Explain yourself.”
“Certainly. The banker, his wife, and Madeleine must be informed that the Clameran of Oloron was a natural son of my father, consequently my brother, born at Hamburg, and recognized during the emigration. Of course, he wished to leave his fortune to his own family. This is the story which you must tell Mme. Fauvel to-morrow.”
“That is a bold step to take.”
“How so?”
“Inquiries might be made.”
“Who would make them? The banker would not trouble himself to do so. What difference is it to him whether I had a brother or not? My title as heir is legally authenticated; and all he has to do is to pay the money he holds, and there his business ends.”
“I am not afraid of his giving trouble.”
“Do you think that Mme. Fauvel and her niece will ask any questions? Why should they? They have no grounds for suspicion. Besides, they cannot take a step without compromising themselves. If they knew all our secrets I would not have the least fear of their making revelations. They have sense enough to know that they had best keep quiet.”
Not finding any other objections to make, Raoul said:
“Very well, then, I obey you; but I am not to call upon Mme. Fauvel for any more money, am I?”
“And why not, pray?”
“Because, my uncle, you are rich now.”
“Suppose I am rich,” replied Louis, triumphantly; “what is that to you? Have we not quarrelled about the means of making this money? and did you not heap abuse upon me until I consider myself justified in refusing you any assistance whatever? However, I will overlook the past. And, when I explain my present plan, you will feel ashamed of your former doubts and suspicion. You will say with me, ‘Success is certain.’”
Louis de Clameran’s scheme was very simple, and therefore unfortunately presented the strongest chances of success.
“We will go back and look at our balance-sheet. As heretofore, my brilliant nephew, you seem to have misunderstood my management of this affair; I will now explain it to you.”
“I am listening.”
“In the first place, I presented myself to Mme. Fauvel, and said not, ‘Your money or your life,’ but ‘Your money or your reputation!’ It was a rude blow to strike, but effective. As I expected, she was frightened, and regarded me with the greatest aversion.”
“Aversion is a mild term, uncle.”
“I know that. Then I brought you upon the scene; and, without flattering you in the least, I must say that your opening act was a perfect success. I was concealed behind the curtain, and saw your first interview; it was sublime! She saw you, and loved you: you spoke a few words and won her heart.”
“And but for you?”
“Let me finish. This was the first act of our comedy. Let us pass to the second. Your extravagant follies—your grandfather would have said, your dissoluteness—soon changed our respective situations. Mme. Fauvel, without ceasing to worship you—you resemble Gaston so closely—was uneasy about you. She was so frightened that she was forced to come to me for assistance.”
“Poor woman!”
“I acted my part very well, as you must confess. I was grave, cold, indignant, and represented the distressed uncle to perfection. I spoke of the old probity of the Clamerans, and bemoaned that the family honor should be dragged in the dust by a degenerate descendant. For a short time I triumphed at your expense; Mme. Fauvel forgot her former prejudice against me, and soon showed that she esteemed and
