Monsieur le marquis is desirous of laying before you all title-deeds and documents of every kind of which he is the present holder.
Moreover, as he has been so long absent from this country, he intends to prove his identity by several of his contemporaries who are still living.For instance, among the honorable personages who have already recognized him I may mention the worthy superior of the Ursuline convent, Mother Marie-des-Anges, for whom, by the bye, you have done a masterpiece.""Faith, yes," said the marquis, "a pretty thing, and if you turn out as well in politics--""Well, marquis," interrupted Jacques Bricheteau, who seemed to me inclined to manage the affair, "are you ready to proceed with our young friend to the verification of the documents?""That is unnecessary," I remarked, and did not think that by this refusal I pledged my faith too much; for, after all, what signify papers in the hands of a man who might have forged them or stolen them? But my father would not consent; and for more than two hours they spread before me parchments, genealogical trees, contracts, patents, documents of all kinds, from which it appeared that the family of Sallenauve is, after that of Cinq-Cygne, the most ancient family in the department of the Aube.I ought to add that the exhibition of these archives was accompanied by an infinite number of spoken details which seemed to make the identity of the Marquis de Sallenauve indisputable.On all other subjects my father is laconic;his mental capacity does not seem to me remarkable, and he willingly allowed his mouthpiece to talk for him.But here, in the matter of his parchments, he was loquaciously full of anecdotes, recollections, heraldic knowledge; in short, he was exactly the old noble, ignorant and superficial in all things, but possessed of Benedictine erudition where the genealogy of his family was concerned.
The session would, I believe, be still going on, if Jacques Bricheteau had not intervened.As the marquis was preparing to read a voluminous memorandum refuting a chapter in Tallemant des Reaux'
"Historiettes" which did not redound to the credit of the great house of Sallenauve, the wise organist remarked that it was time we dined, if we intended to keep an appointment already made for seven o'clock at the office of Maitre Achille Pigoult the notary.
We dined, not at the table-d'hote, but in private, and the dinner seemed very long on account of the silent preoccupation of the marquis, and the slowness with which, owing to his loss of teeth, he swallowed his food.
At seven o'clock we went to the notary's office; but as it is now two o'clock in the morning, and I am heavy with sleep, I shall put off till to-morrow an account of what happened there.
May 4, 5 A.M.
I reckoned on peaceful slumbers, embellished by dreams.On the contrary, I did not sleep an hour, and I have waked up stung to the heart by an odious thought.But before I transmit that thought to you, I must tell you what happened at the notary's.
Maitre Achille Pigoult, a puny little man, horribly pitted with the small-pox, and afflicted with green spectacles, above which he darts glances of vivacious intelligence, asked us if we felt warm enough, the room having no fire.Politeness required us to say yes, although he had already given signs of incendiarism by striking a match, when, from a distant and dark corner of the room, a broken, feeble voice, the owner of which we had not as yet perceived, interposed to prevent the prodigality.
"No, Achille, no, don't make a fire," said an old man."There are five in the room, and the lamp gives out a good heat; before long the room would be too hot to bear."Hearing these words, the marquis exclaimed:--"Ah! this is the good Monsieur Pigoult, formerly justice of the peace."Thus recognized, the old man rose and went up to my father, into whose face he peered.
"Parbleu!" he cried, "I recognize you for a Champagnard of the vieille roche.Achille did not deceive me in declaring that I should see two of my former acquaintances.You," he said, addressing the organist, "you are little Bricheteau, the nephew of our good abbess, Mother Marie-des-Anges; but as for that tall skeleton, looking like a duke and peer, I can't recall his name.However, I don't blame my memory; after eighty-six years' service it may well be rusty.""Come, grandfather," said Achille Pigoult, "brush up your memory; and you, gentlemen, not a word, not a gesture.I want to be clear in my own mind.I have not the honor to know the client for whom I am asked to draw certain deeds, and I must, as a matter of legal regularity, have him identified."While his son spoke, the old man was evidently straining his memory.
My father, fortunately, has a nervous twitching of the face, which increased under the fixed gaze his certifier fastened upon him.
"Hey! parbleu! I have it!" he cried."Monsieur is the Marquise de Sallenauve, whom we used to call the 'Grimacer,' and who would now be the owner of the Chateau d'Arcis if, instead of wandering off, like the other fools, into emigration, he had stayed at home and married his pretty cousin.""You are still sans-culotte, it seems," said the marquis, laughing.
"Messieurs," said the notary, gravely, "the proof I had arranged for myself is conclusive.This proof, together with the title-deeds and documents Monsieur le marquis has shown to me, and which he deposits in my hands, together with the certificate of identity sent to me by Mother Marie-des-Anges, who cannot, under the rules of her Order, come to my office, are sufficient for the execution of the deeds which Ihave here--already prepared.The presence of two witnesses is required for one of them.Monsieur Bricheteau will, of course, be the witness on your side and on the other my father, if agreeable to you; it is an honor that, as I think, belongs to him of right, for, as one may say, this matter has revived his memory.""Very good, messieurs, let us proceed," said Jacques Bricheteau, heartily.
