"That is the name of the person acting as the legal adviser both of my husband and mother-in-law," exclaimed Clémence; "and, indeed, my lord, I think you must be mistaken in your opinion of him, for he is universally regarded as a person of the strictest honour and probity."
"I assure you I have the most irrefragable proofs of what I assert. Meanwhile let me beg of you to be perfectly silent as to the character I assign this man, who is as subtle as unprincipled; and the better to unmask his nefarious practices, it is necessary he should be allowed to think himself secure from all danger; a few days will enable me to perfect my schemes for bringing him to a severe reckoning. He it was who brought such unmerited affliction upon the interesting females I have been telling you of, by defrauding them of a large sum, which, it appears, was consigned to his care by the brother of the unfortunate widow."
"And this money?"
"Was their sole dependence."
"This is, indeed, a crime of the most heinous description!"
"'Tis, indeed, of blackest die," exclaimed Rodolph, "having nothing to extenuate it, and originating neither in passion nor necessity. The pangs of hunger will often instigate a man to commit a theft, the thirst for revenge lead on to murder; but this legal hypocrite is passing rich, and invested, by common consent, with a character of almost priestly sanctity, while his countenance and manners are moulded with such studious art as to inspire and command universal confidence. The assassin kills you at a blow,—this villain tortures, prolongs your sufferings, and leaves you, after the death-blow has been inflicted, to sink under the gnawing agonies of want, misery, and despair. Nothing is safe from the cupidity of such a man as Ferrand: the inheritance of the orphan, the hard-earned savings of the laborious poor,—all excite alike his unprincipled avarice; and that which in other men arises out of the impulse of the moment is with this wretch the result of a cold and unrelenting calculation. You entrust him with your wealth,—to see it is to covet it, and with him to desire is to possess himself, without the smallest scruple. Totally unheeding your future wretchedness, the grasping deceiver deprives you of your property, and without a pang consigns you to beggary and destitution. Suppose that, by a long course of labour and privations, you have contrived to amass a provision against the wants and infirmities of old age; well, no sooner is this cold-blooded hypocrite made the depositary of your little treasure, than he unhesitatingly appropriates it, leaving you to drag on a miserable existence, without a morsel of bread but such as the hand of charity doles out to you. Nor is this all. Let us consider the fearful consequences of these infamous acts of spoliation. Take the case of the widow of whom we were speaking just now,—imagine her dying of grief and a crushed spirit, the results of her heavy afflictions; she leaves a young and helpless girl to struggle alone in the world,—a weak and delicate being, whose very loveliness increases her dangers and difficulties. Without friends or support, unaccustomed to the rough realities of life, the poor orphan has but to choose between starvation and dishonour. In an evil hour she falls, and becomes a lost, degraded creature. And thus Jacques Ferrand, by his dishonest appropriation of the things committed to his charge, occasions not only the death of the mother, but the dishonour of the child; he destroys the body of the one and the soul of the other,—and again, I say, not with the merciful despatch of the assassin's dagger, but by the slow tortures of lingering cruelty!"
Clémence listened in profound silence, not unmixed with surprise, at hearing Rodolph express himself with so much indignation and bitterness. Accustomed only to witness the most urbane suavity in the tone and manner of her guest, she felt more than ordinarily struck by his vehement and excited language; which, however, seemed to show his intense abhorrence of all crooked and nefarious dealings.
"I must entreat your pardon, madame," said the prince, after a pause, "for having permitted myself to use so much warmth in the presence of a lady; but, in truth, I could not restrain my indignation when I reflected on all the horrible dangers which may overwhelm your future protégées. But, be assured, it is quite impossible to exaggerate those fearful consequences brought about by ruin and misery."
"Indeed! Indeed, my lord, you rather merit my thanks, for having so powerfully and energetically augmented, if possible, the tender pity I feel for this unfortunate parent, whose heart is, doubtless, wrung with anguish rather for her young and innocent daughter than for herself. It is, in truth, a fearful situation. But we shall soon be enabled to relieve her mind, and rescue her from her present misery, shall we not, my lord? Oh, yes, I feel assured we shall,—and henceforward their happiness shall be my care. I am rich,—though not so much so as I could wish, now that I perceive how worthily wealth may be employed; but should there be occasion for further aid than I am enabled to afford, I will apply to M. d'Harville in their behalf. I will render him so happy, that he shall find it impossible to refuse any of my new caprices, and I foresee that I shall have plenty of them. You told me, did you not, my lord, that our protégées are proud? So much the better. I am better pleased to find them so; for pride under unmerited misfortune always betokens a great and elevated mind. But I shall be able to overreach them, for I will so contrive that they shall be relieved from their present misery without ever guessing to what channel they owe their deliverance from misery. You think I shall find it difficult to deceive them? So much the better. Oh, I have my own plans of action, I can assure you, my lord; and you will see that I shall be deficient neither in cunning nor address."
"I fully anticipate the most Machiavelian system of ruse and deep combination," said Rodolph, smiling.