He had worked himself into such a state of excitement, that, when Raoul returned, he flew to him with ashy face and trembling all over, and could scarcely gasp out: 

“Well?”

“The deed is done, uncle, thanks to you; and I am now the most miserable, abject villain on the face of the earth.”

He unbuttoned his vest, and, pulling out the four bundles of bank-notes, angrily dashed them upon the table, saying, in a tone of scorn and disgust: 

“Now I hope you are satisfied.  This is the price of the happiness, honor, and perhaps the life of three people.”

Clameran paid no attention to these angry words.  With feverish eagerness he seized the notes, and rattled them in his hand as if to convince himself of the reality of success.

“Now Madeleine is mine!” he cried excitedly.

Raoul looked at Clameran in silent disgust.  This exhibition of joy was a shocking contrast to the scene in which he had just been an actor.  He was humiliated at being the tool of such a heartless scoundrel as he now knew Clameran to be.

Louis misinterpreted this silence, and said gayly: 

“Did you have much difficulty?”

“I forbid you ever to allude to this evening’s work,” cried Raoul fiercely.  “Do you hear me?  I wish to forget it.”

Clameran shrugged his shoulders at this outburst of anger, and said in a bantering tone: 

“Just as you please, my handsome nephew:  I rather think you will want to remember it though, when I offer you these three hundred and fifty thousand francs.  You will not, I am sure, refuse to accept them as a slight souvenir.  Take them:  they are yours.”

This generosity seemed neither to surprise nor satisfy Raoul.

“According to our agreement,” he said sullenly, “I was to have more than this.”

“Of course:  this is only part of your share.”

“And when am I to have the rest, if you please?”

“The day I marry Madeleine, and not before, my boy.  You are too valuable an assistant to lose at present; and you know that, though I don’t mistrust you, I am not altogether sure of your sincere affection for me.”

Raoul reflected that to commit a crime, and not profit by it, would be the height of absurdity.  He had come with the intention of breaking off all connection with Clameran; but he now determined that he would not abandon his accomplice until he had been well paid for his services.

“Very well,” he said, “I accept this on account; but remember, I will never do another piece of work like this to-night.  You can do what you please; I shall flatly refuse.”

Clameran burst into a loud laugh, and said: 

“That is sensible:  now that you are rich, you can afford to be honest.  Set your conscience at rest, for I promise you I will require nothing more of you save a few trifling services.  You can retire behind the scenes now, while I appear upon the stage; my role begins.”