“My good woman,” he said, “I am not in want of money, and I am not rich enough to pay interest on twenty-five thousand francs for which I have no use.  All that I can do for you is to place that sum, in my name, with the notary Dupuis.  He is a religious man; you can see him every Sunday in the warden’s pew in our church.  Notaries, you know, never give receipts, therefore I could not give you one myself; I can only promise to leave among my papers, in case of death, a memorandum which will secure the restitution of the money into your hands.  The affair, you see, is one of blind confidence, and I am very unwilling to make it.  If I do so, it is only to oblige a person whose piety and the charitable use she intends to make of the proceeds of her little fortune entitle her to my good-will.”

“If monsieur thinks that the matter cannot be otherwise arranged—­”

“This appears to me the only possible way,” said la Peyrade.  “I shall hope to get you six per cent interest, and you may rely that it will be paid with the utmost regularity.  But remember, six months, or even a year, may elapse before the notary will be in a position to repay this money, because notaries invest such trust funds chiefly in mortgages which require a certain time to mature.  Now, when you have obtained the prize for virtue, which, according to all appearance, I can readily do for you, there will be no reason to hide your little property any longer,—­a reason which I fully understand; but you will not be able to withdraw it from the notary’s hands immediately; and in case of any difficulty arising, I should be forced to explain the situation, the manner in which you have concealed your prosperity from your master, to whom you have been supposed to be wholly devoted.  This, as you will see, would put you in the position of falsely professing virtue, and would do great harm to your reputation for piety.”

“Oh! monsieur,” said the saintly woman, “can it be that any one would think me a person who did not speak the truth?”

“Bless you! my good creature, in business it is necessary to foresee everything.  Money embroils the best friends, and leads to actions they never foresaw.  Therefore reflect; you can come and see me again in a few days.  It is possible that between now and then you will find some better investment; and I myself, who am doing at this moment a thing I don’t altogether like, may have found other difficulties which I do not now expect.”

This threat, adroitly thrown out as an afterthought, was intended to immediately clinch the matter.

“I have reflected carefully,” said the pious woman, “and I feel sure that in the hands of so religious a man as monsieur I run no risks.”

Taking from her bosom a little pocket-book, she pulled out twenty-five bank notes.  The rapid manner in which she counted them was a revelation to la Peyrade.  The woman was evidently accustomed to handle money, and a singular idea darted through his mind.