“To sum up all in two words.  The end is abdication—­the means, vexation, incessant torture.  The Rennepont inheritance wilt pay for the election.  The price agreed, the merchandise will be sold.”

Rodin here paused abruptly, thinking he had heard some noise at that door of his, which opened on the staircase; therefore he listened with suspended breath; but all remaining silent, he thought he must have been deceived, and took up his pen: 

“I will take care of the Rennepont business—­the hinge on which will turn our temporal operations.  We must begin from the foundation—­substitute the play of interests, and the springs of passion, for the stupid club law of Father d’Aigrigny.  He nearly compromised everything—­and yet he has good parts, knows the world, has powers of seduction, quick insight—­but plays ever in a single key, and is not great enough to make himself little.  In his stead, I shall know how to make use of him.  There is good stuff in the man.  I availed myself in time of the full powers given by the R. F. G.; I may inform Father d’Aigrigny, in case of need, of the secret engagements taken by the General towards myself.  Until now, I have let him invent for this inheritance the destination that you know of.  A good thought, but unseasonable.  The same end, by other means.

“The information was false.  There are over two hundred millions.  Should the eventuality occur, what was doubtful must become certain.  An immense latitude is left us.  The Rennepont business is now doubly mine, and within three months, the two hundred millions will be ours, by the free will of the heirs themselves.  It must be so; for this failing, the temporal part would escape me, and my chances be diminished by one half.  I have asked for full powers; time presses, and I act as if I had them.  One piece of information is indispensable for the success of my projects.  I expect it from you, and I must have it; do you understand me?  The powerful influence of your brother at the Court of Vienna will serve you in this.  I wish to have the most precise details as to the present position of the Duke de Reichstadt—­the Napoleon II. of the Imperialists.  Is it possible, by means of your brother, to open a secret correspondence with the prince, unknown to his attendants?

“Look to this promptly.  It is urgent.  This note will be sent off to day.  I shall complete it to-morrow.  It will reach you, as usual, by the hands of the petty shopkeeper.”

At the moment when Rodin was sealing this letter within a double envelope, he thought that he again heard a noise at the door.  He listened.  After some silence, several knocks were distinctly audible.  Rodin started.  It was the first time any one had knocked at his door, since nearly a twelve-month that he occupied this room.  Hastily placing the letter in his great-coat pocket, the Jesuit opened the old trunk under his bed, took from it a packet of papers wrapped in a tattered cotton handkerchief, added to