"Yes, M. Dubois; I have been to M. de Saint-Remy, and he will come and
pay immediately."

"And as to the Countess Macgregor?"

"Here is her answer."

"And the Countess d'Orbigny?"

"She returns her compliments to our employer. She only arrived from
Normandy yesterday morning, and did not know that her reply was required
so soon; here is a note from her. I also called on the Marquis
d'Harville's steward, as he desired me to receive the money for drawing
up the contract which I witnessed at their house the other day."

"You should have told him there was no hurry."

"I did, but the steward insisted on paying. Here is the money. Oh! I had
almost forgotten to say, M. Badinot said that M. Ferrand had better do
as they had agreed; it was the best thing to do."

"He did not write an answer?"

"No, sir; he said he had not time."

"Very well."

"M. Charles Robert will come in the course of the morning to speak to
our master. It seems that he fought a duel yesterday with the Duke de
Lucenay."

"And is he wounded?"

"I think not, or else they would have told me so at the house."

"Hark! there's a carriage stopping at the door."

"Oh, what fine horses! how full of spirits they are!"

"And that fat English coachman, with his white wig, and brown livery
striped with silver, and his epaulettes like a colonel!"

"It must be some ambassador's."

"And the _chasseur_, look how he is bedizened all over with silver!"

"And what moustachios!"

"Oh," said Jabulot, "it is the Viscount de Saint-Remy's carriage!"

"What! is that the way he does it? Oh, my!"

Soon after the Viscount de Saint-Remy entered the office.

We have already described the handsome appearance, elegance of style,
and aristocratical demeanour of M. de Saint-Remy, when he was on his way
to the farm of Arnouville (the estate of Madame de Lucenay), where he
had found a retreat from the pursuit of the bailiffs, Malicorne and
Bourdin. The viscount, who entered unceremoniously into the office, with
his hat on his head, a haughty and disdainful look, and his eyes half
closed, asked, with an air of extreme superciliousness, and without
looking at anybody:

"Where is the notary?"

"M. Ferrand is engaged in his private room," said the chief clerk. "If
you will please to wait a moment, sir, he will see you."

"What do you mean by wait a moment?"

"Why, sir--"

"There is no why in the case, sir. Go and tell him that M. de Saint-Remy
is here; and I am