"Ah, take me along! Let me see him, let me beg forgiveness of the corpse against which I have sinned so," implored the broken-down man.
Pierre thought for a while, and then said earnestly:
"Come then—you are right."
"Thanks, a thousand thanks! But tell me, Pierre, what will become of the fortune you have in safe keeping. It exists yet, I hope?"
Labarre trembled with contemptuous rage; the man before him was more mercenary and wicked than he thought could be possible. He buried both his sons almost at the same hour, but he still found time and opportunity to inquire about the legacy for which he had made so many sacrifices.
"Well," exclaimed Fougereuse impatiently, "tell me, where are the millions of my father?"
"In a safe place," replied Pierre dryly.
"God be praised! I could draw a million then this evening?"
"My God, marquis! do you need a million to confess your sins?"
"Later! Later! Now answer me, when can I get the million?"