But Klotz-Lerne had charged the estate with a super-abundance of mortgages, and contracted numberless debts.
My first thought was to appeal to the Courts, and then the absurdity of the case struck me, and I perceived all the confusion, which such a substitution of persons could cause to legal minds—those frauds of a kind not provided against by the Code, those false pretenses and all this legacy-hunting, which were a defiance of nature and law alike.
I had to resign myself to all the consequences of an astounding imposture, and not say a word about it, for fear of arousing the worst suspicions.
Everything considered, however, the acceptance of the succession still brought me some profit, and whatever happened, I was resolved to get rid of Fonval, judging that it would, henceforward, be for me but a nest of evil memories.
I went through all the papers. Those of the real Lerne, confirmed his medical honor, and the legitimacy of his researches in grafting in every line. Those of Klotz-Lerne, usually recognizable by the illustrations in the manuscript, and often blackened with German Gothic characters, were carefully examined, and were reduced to ashes, for they were irrefutable witnesses of several crimes, and contained nothing to refute the presumption that a certain Nicolas Vermont, who had been present at Fonval for six months, had been a partner in them.
Under the influence of this same dread, I ransacked the park and outhouses.
That done, I presented the animals to the villagers, and dismissed Barbe.
Then I summoned help. We filled trunks and cases with family treasures, whilst Emma packed her boxes—half annoyed at the loss of her daydream, and half pleased to follow me to Paris.
After the death of Klotz-Lerne, eager to take my place again in the world, and to enjoy once more the comforts of wealth, without passing through the worries of too small a house, I had written to one of my friends, asking him to take a flat for me, a little larger than my bachelor rooms, and suitable for a couple of lovers. His answer delighted us. He had found out a home for us in the Avenue Victor Hugo—a little house built as if to our measure, and furnished exactly to our taste. Servants, recruited by his good offices, awaited us.
All was ready. I sent off a mountain of parcels belonging to Emma along with her trunks.