“And can you prevent that?” asked Tremorel, incredulously.

“Certainly.  Ah, I’ve completely checkmated these gentlemen.  I’ve succeeded by chance—­I had the good luck to get them all together this evening.  I said to them, you’ll let us sell this property as we please, voluntarily, or I’ll outbid you all, and spoil your cards.  They looked at me in amazement.  My notary, who was with me, remarked that I was Monsieur Sauvresy, worth two millions.  Our gentlemen opened their eyes very wide, and consented to grant my request.”

Hector, notwithstanding what he had said, knew enough about his affairs to see that this action would save him a fortune—­a small one, as compared with what he had possessed, yet a fortune.

The certainty of this delighted him, and moved by a momentary and sincere gratitude, he grasped both of Sauvresy’s hands in his.

“Ah, my friend,” cried he, “you give me my honor, after saving my life!  How can I ever repay you?”

“By committing no imprudences or foolishnesses, except reasonable ones.  Such as this,” added Sauvresy, leaning toward Bertha and embracing her.

“And there is nothing more to fear?”

“Nothing!  Why I could have borrowed the two millions in an hour, and they knew it.  But that’s not all.  The search for you is suspended.  I went to your house, took the responsibility of sending away all your servants except your valet and a groom.  If you agree, we’ll send the horses to be sold to-morrow, and they’ll fetch a good price; your own saddle-horse shall be brought here.”

These details annoyed Bertha.  She thought her husband exaggerated his services, carrying them even to servility.

“Really,” thought she, “he was born to be a steward.”

“Do you know what else I did?” pursued Sauvresy.  “Thinking that perhaps you were in want of a wardrobe, I had three or four trunks filled with your clothes, sent them out by rail, and one of the servants has just gone after them.”

Hector, too, began to find Sauvresy’s services excessive, and thought he treated him too much like a child who could foresee nothing.  The idea of having it said before a woman that he was in want of clothes irritated him.  He forgot that he had found it a very simple thing in the morning to ask his friend for some linen.

Just then a noise was heard in the vestibule.  Doubtless the trunks had come.  Bertha went out to give the necessary orders.

“Quick!” cried Sauvresy.  “Now that we are alone, here are your trinkets.  I had some trouble in getting them.  They are suspicious at the pawnbroker’s.  I think they began to suspect that I was one of a band of thieves.”

“You didn’t mention my name, did you?”

“That would have been useless.  My notary was with me, fortunately.  One never knows how useful one’s notary may be.  Don’t you think society is unjust toward notaries?”