“First give me your word of honor that you really are a lawyer,” said Cachan to Derville.
“Here is my passport,” replied Derville, handing him a paper folded in four; “and monsieur is not, as you might suppose, an inspector from the Treasury, so be easy,” he added. “We had an important reason for wanting to know the truth as to the Sechard estate, and we now know it.”
Derville took Madame Sechard’s hand and led her very courteously to the further end of the room.
“Madame,” said he, in a low voice, “if it were not that the honor and future prospects of the house of Grandlieu are implicated in this affair, I would never have lent myself to the stratagem devised by this gentleman of the red ribbon. But you must forgive him; it was necessary to detect the falsehood by means of which your brother has stolen a march on the beliefs of that ancient family. Beware now of allowing it to be supposed that you have given your brother twelve hundred thousand francs to repurchase the Rubempre estates——”
“Twelve hundred thousand francs!” cried Madame Sechard, turning pale. “Where did he get them, wretched boy?”
“Ah! that is the question,” replied Derville. “I fear that the source of his wealth is far from pure.”
The tears rose to Eve’s eyes, as her neighbors could see.
“We have, perhaps, done you a great service by saving you from abetting a falsehood of which the results may be positively dangerous,” the lawyer went on.
Derville left Madame Sechard sitting pale and dejected with tears on her cheeks, and bowed to the company.
“To Mansle!” said Corentin to the little boy who drove the chaise.