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Now, the light being only admitted through these holes, the obscurity would have been complete, had it not been for a lamp, which burned on a large massive slab of black marble, fixed against one of the walls.  One would have taken it for a funeral chamber, for it was all hung with black curtains, fringed with white.  There was no furniture, save the slab of black marble we have already mentioned.  On this slab was an iron casket, of the manufacture of the seventeenth century, admirably adorned with open work, like lace made of metal.

Addressing Rodin, who was wiping his forehead with his dirty handkerchief, and looking round him with surprise, but not fear, Samuel said to him:  “The will of the testator, however strange it may appear, is sacred with me, and must be accomplished in all things.”

“Certainly,” said Rodin; “but what are we to do here?”

“You will know presently, sir.  You are the representative of the only remaining heir of the Rennepont family, the Abbe Gabriel de Rennepont?”

“Yes, sir, and here are my papers,” replied Rodin.

“To save time,” resumed Samuel, “I will, previous to the arrival of the magistrate, go through the inventory of the securities contained in this casket, which I withdrew yesterday from the custody of the Bank of France.”

“The securities are there?” cried Rodin, advancing eagerly towards the casket.

“Yes, sir,” replied Samuel, “as by the list.  Your secretary will call them over, and I will produce each in turn.  They can then be replaced in the casket, which I will deliver up to you in presence of the magistrate.”

“All this seems perfectly correct,” said Rodin.

Samuel delivered the list to Father Caboccini, and approaching the casket, touched a spring, which was not seen by Rodin.  The heavy lid flew open, and, while Father Caboccini read the names of the different securities, Samuel showed them to Rodin, who returned them to the old Jew, after a careful examination.  This verification did not last long, for this immense fortune was all comprised, as we already know, in eight government securities, five hundred thousand francs in bank-note, thirty five thousand francs in gold, and two hundred and fifty francs in silver—­making in all an amount of two hundred and twelve millions, one hundred and seventy-five thousand francs.  When Rodin had counted the last of the five hundred bank-notes, of a thousand francs each, he said, as he returned them to Samuel:  “It is quite right.  Two hundred and twelve millions, one hundred and seventy-five thousand francs!”

He was no doubt almost choked with joy, for he breathed with difficulty, his eyes closed, and he was obliged to lean upon Father Caboccini’s arm, as he said to him in an altered voice:  “It is singular.  I thought myself proof against all such emotions; but what I feel is extraordinary.”

The natural paleness of the Jesuit increased so much, and he seemed so much agitated with convulsive movements, that Father Caboccini exclaimed:  “My dear father, collect yourself; do not let success overcome you thus.”