"None. Stay, though; what cash have you in hand?"
"Twenty-nine thousand three hundred and odd francs for current expenses, my lord marquis; but there is a heavy sum at the bank belonging to this quarter's income."
"Well, bring me twenty thousand francs in gold, and, should I have gone out, give them to Joseph for me."
"Does your lordship wish for them this morning?"
"I do."
"Within an hour the gold shall be here. You have nothing else to say to me, my lord?"
"No, M. Doublet."
"A hundred and twenty-six thousand francs per annum, wholly unincumbered," repeated the steward, as he was about to quit the room; "this is a glorious day for me to see; I almost feared at one time that we should not secure this desirable property. Your lordship's most humble servant, I take my leave."
"Good morning, M. Doublet."
As the door closed upon the steward, M. d'Harville, overcome with the mental agony he had repressed thus far, threw himself into an armchair, leaned his elbows on the desk before which he sat, and covering his face with his hands, for the first time since receiving the fatal billet, gave vent to a flood of hot, burning tears.