"But this is horrible! No, I will not write that!"
"You had better do it without further objections. You can sign any name you please."
Sanselme still hesitated.
"No," he said, finally, "I refuse. I of course do not know what use you intend to make of this paper, but I know you. Some infamous machination is on foot which I will not aid."
Benedetto smiled.
"You are far from rich," he said, "for I was at the window some little time before I knocked. I must tell you that Comte Velleni's hôtel is next this, and I had not the smallest difficulty in coming here."
Sanselme glanced at the trunk that contained his scanty means.
"Precisely," said Benedetto, "a few louis and two or three bits of paper."
"I ask nothing from you."
"But I offer these." And Benedetto took from an elegant portfolio ten bank notes of one thousand francs each, and spread them out on the bed. "Write what I bid you and this money is yours."