"Very good!--well done," he
exclaimed every other minute. "I could not have done better
myself. You shall be abundantly rewarded, Victor, if this affair
is successful." And at this thought his satisfaction overflowed in
a complacent monologue: "Why shouldn't it succeed?" he asked
himself. "Could anything be more simple and certain? I can make
any demand I please--one, two, three hundred thousand francs. Ah,
it was a good thing that the Count de Chalusse died! Now, I can
forgive Valorsay. Let him keep my forty thousand francs; he's
quite welcome to them! Let him marry Mademoiselle Marguerite; I
wish them a large and flourishing family! And Madame d'Argeles,
too, has my benediction!"
He was so confident his fortune was made that at noon he could
restrain himself no longer. He hired a cab and accompanied by
Chupin he set out for M. Wilkie's abode, declaring that he would
wake that young gentleman up if needs be, but at all events he
must see him without delay. When he reached the Rue du Helder, he
told Chupin to wait in the cab, and then entering the house, he
asked: "Monsieur Wilkie?"
"On the second floor, the door to the right," replied the
concierge.
M. Fortunat ascended the stairs very slowly, for he felt the
necessity of regaining all his composure, and it was not until he
had brought himself to a proper frame of mind that he rang the
bell. A small servant, M. Wilkie's fag, who took his revenge in
robbing his employer most outrageously, came to the door, and
began by declaring that his master was out of town.
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