And, looking at the clock, he added,—
“Half-past three. Come, Maxime, be quick. My carriage is waiting. The notary expects us between three and four o’clock.”
This notary was an exceptional man. He took an interest in the affairs of his clients, and sometimes even listened to hear their explanations. When Daniel had told him what he intended doing, he replied,—
“You have nothing to do, M. Champcey, but to give M. de Brevan a power-of-attorney in proper form.”
“Would it be possible,” asked Daniel, “to have it drawn up at once?”
“Why not? It can be recorded this evening; and to-morrow”—
“Well, then, lose no time.”
The notary called his chief clerk, gave him briefly his instructions, then, making a sign to Daniel, he drew him into a kind of recess resembling an enormous cupboard, adjoining his office, in which he “confessed” his clients, as he called it. When they were there, he said,—
“How is it, M. Champcey, do you really owe this M. de Brevan so much money?”
“Not a cent.”