Moreover, this maneuver was a proof that in all probability no will existed; and the Vabres glanced covertly at the old iron safe which the retired notary had brought with him from Versailles and had had fixed in the wall of his bed-chamber. He had a mania for shutting up all sorts of things inside it. No doubt the Duveyriers had hastened to ransack this safe during the night. Théophile had the idea of laying a trap for them to compel them to speak.
“I say,” he at length went and whispered in the counselor’s ear, “suppose we send for the notary. Papa may wish to alter his will.”
Duveyrier did not at first hear. As he felt excessively bored in that room, he had allowed his thoughts all through the night to revert to Clarisse. The wisest thing would decidedly be to make it up with his wife; but then the other was so funny, when she threw her chemise over her head, with the gesture of a street-arab; and with his vague glance fixed on the dying man, he still had visions of her, and would have given everything to have had her with him again. Théophile was obliged to repeat his question.
“I have questioned Monsieur Renandin,” at length answered the counselor in a bewildered way. “There is no will.”
“But here?”
“No more here than at the notary’s.”
Théophile looked at Auguste; was it not sufficiently evident? the Duveyriers had searched everything. Clotilde saw the glance, and was greatly irritated with her husband. What was the matter with him? was grief sending him to sleep? And she added:
“Papa has no doubt done what he thought right. We shall learn it only too soon, heaven knows!”
Meanwhile, the hours passed away. At eleven o’clock they had a diversion, Doctor Juillerat again calling. The patient’s condition was becoming worse and worse, it was now even doubtful whether he would be able to recognize his children before dying. And the sobbing started afresh when Clémence announced the Abbe Mand-uit. Clotilde, who rose to meet him, was the first to receive his consolations. He appeared to be deeply affected by the family visitation; he had an encouraging word for each. Then, with much tact, he talked of the rites of religion, insinuating that they should not let that soul pass away without the succor of the Church.
“I had thought of it,” murmured Clotilde.