and a fortune, far more considerable than had even been expected, would fall to the share of an ill-omened society, in whose hands it would become a terrible means of action.  At the same time, it must be said that the soul of Gabriel was too pure and noble to feel the slightest personal regret, on hearing the great probable value of the property he had renounced.  He rejoiced rather in withdrawing his mind, by a touching contrast, from the thought of the wealth he had abandoned, to the humble parsonage, where he hoped to pass the remainder of his life, in the practice of most evangelical virtue.

These ideas passed confusedly through his brain.  The sight of that woman’s portrait, the dark revelations contained in the testament, the grandeur of the views exhibited in this last will of M. de Rennepont, all these extraordinary incidents had thrown Gabriel into a sort of stupor, in which he was still plunged, when Samuel offered the key of the register to the notary, saying:  “You will find, sir, in this register, the exact statement of the sums in my possession, derived from the investment and accumulation of the one hundred and fifty thousand francs, entrusted to my grandfather by M. Marius de Rennepont.”

“Your grandfather!” cried Father d’Aigrigny, with the utmost surprise; “it is then your family that has always had the management of this property.”

“Yes, sir; and, in a few minutes, my wife will bring hither the casket which contains the vouchers.”

“And to what sum does this property amount?” asked Rodin, with an air of the most complete indifference.

“As M. Notary may convince himself by this statement,” replied Samuel, with perfect frankness, and as if he were only talking of the original one hundred and fifty thousand francs, “I have in my possession various current securities to the amount of two hundred and twelve millions, one hundred and seventy—­”

“You say, sir’” cried Father d’Aigrigny, without giving Samuel time to finish, for the odd money did not at all interest his reverence.

“Yes, the sum!” added Rodin, in an agitated voice, and, for the first time, perhaps, in his life losing his presence of mind; “the sum—­the sum—­the sum!”

“I say, sir,” resumed the old man, “that I hold securities for two hundred and twelve millions, one hundred and seventy-five thousand francs, payable to self or bearer—­as you may soon convince yourself, M. Notary, for here is my wife with the casket.”

Indeed, at this moment, Bathsheba entered, holding in her arms the cedar wood chest, which contained the securities in question; she placed it upon the table, and withdrew, after exchanging an affectionate glance with Samuel.  When the latter declared the enormous amount of the sum in hand, his words were received with silent stupor.  All the actors in this scene, except himself, believed that they were the sport of some delusion.  Father d’Aigrigny and Rodin had counted upon forty millions.  This