"I can't tell you yet. By the way, I shall be obliged to you if you will not be in your office at noon."
"Not be there, uncle? But Cherami is coming!"
"Don't be disturbed about that; that's my affair. Go to pass the morning with your fiancée."
"Oh! I ask nothing better."
"And return about two o'clock. I will tell you then my decision as to Monsieur Cherami."
The clock had just struck twelve when Cherami entered the banking-house on the following day. He cherished no vain hopes; he did not anticipate a favorable reply; but, with his customary philosophy, he said to himself:
"That won't prevent me from going to Gustave's wedding and enjoying myself."
As he was perfectly familiar with the way to the offices, Cherami entered the vestibule on the street floor; at the right was a door leading to the general offices, and in front, the door of a long corridor on which several other doors opened. That was the corridor he was to take to reach Gustave's office. Cherami passed through the door and walked straight ahead. He had just passed Monsieur Grandcourt's private office, when his foot struck something of considerable size; he stooped, looked to see what it was, and picked up a portfolio.
His first impulse was to examine what he had found. It was a very simple portfolio, of green morocco, with no monogram or initials; but in one of the compartments was a thick package of banknotes. Cherami counted them; they amounted to twenty-five thousand francs. He looked through all the other compartments, but found no letters, no papers, nothing to tell him to whom it belonged.
"Par la sambleu! this is a find!" said Cherami to himself. "Twenty-five thousand francs! A very pretty little sum! Who can have lost it? I don't see anybody; but I mustn't forget that Gustave is waiting for me."