“Have you been commissioned to tell me this?” asked Elias, in tones of anguish.
“No, my dear Lichtenbach; I was only to speak to you of the ground purchase.”
“Thanks, Monsieur l’Abbé. Tell them I will send my agent to-morrow to Grasse, to bring the matter to a conclusion, and that before the month is over we shall be in possession.”
“Very well!”
The young Abbé rose from his seat. He stopped, and, in negligent tones, said—
“Ah! I was forgetting. Have you heard of that frightful catastrophe which took place at Vanves? The explosion even shook the buildings here at Issy. Were you not acquainted with this General de Trémont?”
Lichtenbach looked paler and more sombre than ever, as he replied stammeringly—
“Yes, Monsieur l’Abbé, I knew him a long time ago.”
“It appears he was a dangerous maniac, dabbling with chemical experiments which were destined to kill him in time. A person of doubtful morality as well, according to public rumour, and who, even at his advanced age, gave himself up to the most degrading debauchery. He will not be missed. They say he was assassinated and robbed, before his house blew up. That is what comes of investigating in explosives! Well, au revoir, my dear Lichtenbach. When you come to see the patient give me due notice, and I will introduce you to him privately.”
Lichtenbach made no reply. He showed out his visitor with a semblance of respectful humility. Then he bowed, as to a superior, and said—