"Poor old man! But have you not lately bought a farm near Val Richer to add to your estate?"
"Yes, a very good affair that my notary advised."
"Who is this rare and precious notary who advises such good things?"
"M. Jacques Ferrand."
At this name a slight shade passed over the viscount's brow.
"Is he really as honest a man as he is reputed to be?" asked he, carelessly, of D'Harville, who then remembered what Rudolph had related to Clemence concerning the notary.
"Jacques Ferrand? what a question; why, he is a man of antique probity!" said Lucenay. "As respected as respectable. Very pious—that hurts no one. Excessively avaricious—which is a guarantee for his clients."
"He is, in fine, one of our notaries of the old school, who ask you for whom you take them when you speak of a receipt for money confided to them."
"For no other cause than that I would confide my whole fortune to him."
"But where the devil, Saint Remy, did you get your doubts concerning this worthy man, of proverbial integrity?"