"I do not understand," said Labarre. "I am an old man and poor. What can I do for you?"
"I will tell you. I am ruined, my influence is lost. This is not all—I am crushed under the weight of engagements so heavy that were I to give up every sou I have in the world, and reduce my wife and my son to beggary, I could not release myself and save my honor!"
Labarre did not speak.
"I have tried every plan," continued the Marquis, "and—hear me, Pierre—I have gone too far. What would you say, Pierre, if the name of your old master should be borne by a forger?"
Pierre did not evince the smallest emotion.
"Well?" said the Marquis, breathlessly.
"What do you want of me?" asked Pierre.
"I will tell you. I know that my father, in order to reserve for Simon a portion of his fortune, and fearing, with the suspicion of an old man, that in some way he would lose it, made a will, which he gave to you——"
"Go on, sir."
"This will contains a secret—it tells where this money reserved for Simon is concealed. This will gives direction that only Simon, or his heirs, shall receive this will. Simon is dead, his children have disappeared. Your duty is plain. This money now amounts to two millions, at least. What was always my father's first wish? Was it not to preserve his family name without a spot or blemish? Give me this will. Without this money I am dishonored!"