“Right at the head of the Basin.”

And much more like this; but by and by the mortgager came to the point with the casual remark: 

“The excitement concerning land titles seems to increase rather than subside.”

“They must have something to be excited about, I suppose,” said M. Grandissime, crossing his legs and smiling.  It was tradesman’s talk.

“Yes,” replied the other; “there seems to be an idea current to-day that all holders under Spanish titles are to be immediately dispossessed, without even process of court.  I believe a very slight indiscretion on the part of the Governor-General would precipitate a riot.”

“He will not commit any,” said M. Grandissime with a quiet gravity, changing his manner to that of one who draws upon a reserve of private information.  “There will be no outbreak.”

“I suppose not.  We do not know, really, that the American Congress will throw any question upon titles; but still—­”

“What are some of the shrewdest Americans among us doing?” asked M. Grandissime.

“Yes,” replied the mortgager, “it is true they are buying these very titles; but they may be making a mistake?”

Unfortunately for the speaker, he allowed his face an expression of argumentative shrewdness as he completed this sentence, and M. Grandissime, the merchant, caught an instantaneous full view of his motive; he wanted to buy.  He was a man whose known speculative policy was to “go in” in moments of panic.

M. Grandissime was again face to face with the question of the morning.  To commence selling must be to go on selling.  This, as a plan, included restitution to Aurora; but it meant also dissolution to the Grandissimes, for should their sold titles be pronounced bad, then the titles of other lands would be bad; many an asset among M. Grandissime’s memoranda would shrink into nothing, and the meagre proceeds of the Grandissime estates, left to meet the strain without the aid of Aurora’s accumulated fortune, would founder in a sea of liabilities; while should these titles, after being parted with, turn out good, his incensed kindred, shutting their eyes to his memoranda and despising his exhibits, would see in him only the family traitor, and he would go about the streets of his town the subject of their implacable denunciation, the community’s obloquy, and Aurora’s cold evasion.  So much, should he sell.  On the other hand, to decline to sell was to enter upon that disingenuous scheme of delays which would enable him to avail himself and his people of that favorable wind and tide of fortune which the Cession had brought.  Thus the estates would be lost, if lost at all, only when the family could afford to lose them, and Honore Grandissime would continue to be Honore the Magnificent, the admiration of the city and the idol of his clan.  But Aurora—­and Clotilde—­would have to eat the crust of poverty, while their fortunes, even in his hands, must bear all the jeopardy of the scheme.  That was all.  Retain Fausse Riviere and its wealth, and save the Grandissimes; surrender Fausse Riviere, let the Grandissime estates go, and save the Nancanous.  That was the whole dilemma.