LAbbe Constantin | Page 8

Monsieur de Larnac, Monsieur Gallard, a great Parisian
banker, and myself. Monsieur de Larnac will have La Mionne,
Monsieur Gallard the castle and Blanche-Couronne, and La Rozeraie. I

know you, Monsieur le Cure, you will be anxious about your poor, but
comfort yourself. These Gallards are rich and will give you plenty of
money."
At this moment a cloud of dust appeared on the road, from it emerged a
carriage.
"Here comes Monsieur de Larnac!" cried Paul, "I know his ponies!"
All three hurriedly descended from the terrace and returned to the castle.
They arrived there just as M. de Larnac's carriage drove up to the
entrance.
"Well?" asked Madame de Lavardens.
"Well!" replied M. de Larnac, "we have nothing."
"What? Nothing?" cried Madame de Lavardens, very pale and agitated.
"Nothing, nothing; absolutely nothing--the one or the other of us."
And M. de Larnac springing from his carriage, related what had taken
place at the sale before the Tribunal of Souvigny.
"At first," he said, "everything went upon wheels. The castle went to
Monsieur Gallard for 650,000 francs. No competitor--a raise of fifty
francs had been sufficient. On the other hand, there was a little battle
for Blanche-Couronne. The bids rose from 500,000 francs to 520,000
francs, and again Monsieur Gallard was victorious. Another and more
animated battle for La Rozeraie; at last it was knocked down to you,
Madame, for 455,000 francs . . . . I got the forest of La Mionne without
opposition at a rise of 100 francs. All seemed over, those present had
risen, our solicitors were surrounded with persons asking the names of
the purchasers."
"Monsieur Brazier, the judge intrusted with the sale, desired silence,
and the bailiff of the court offered the four lots together for 2,150,000
or 2,160,000 francs, I don't remember which. A murmur passed through

the assembly. 'No one will bid' was heard on all sides. But little Gibert,
the solicitor, who was seated in the first row, and till then had given no
sign of life, rose and said calmly, 'I have a purchaser for the four lots
together at 2,200,000 francs.' This was like a thunderbolt. A
tremendous clamor arose, followed by a dead silence. The hall was
filled with farmers and laborers from the neighborhood. Two million
francs! So much money for the land threw them into a sort of respectful
stupor. However, Monsieur Gallard, bending toward Sandrier, the
solicitor who had bid for him, whispered something in his ear. The
struggle began between Gibert and Sandrier. The bids rose to 2,500,000
francs. Monsieur Gallard hesitated for a moment--decided--continued
up to 3,000,000. Then he stopped and the whole went to Gibert. Every
one rushed on him, they surrounded--they crushed him: 'The name, the
name of the purchaser?' 'It is an American,' replied Gibert, 'Mrs. Scott.'"
"Mrs. Scott!" cried Paul de Lavardens.
"You know her?" asked Madame de Lavardens.
"Do I know her?--do I--not at all. But I was at a ball at her house six
weeks ago."
"At a ball at her house! and you don't know her! What sort of woman is
she, then?"
"Charming, delightful, ideal, a miracle!"
"And is there a Mr. Scott?"
"Certainly, a tall, fair man. He was at his ball. They pointed him out to
me. He bowed at random right and left. He was not much amused, I
will answer for it. He looked at us as if he were thinking, 'Who are all
these people? What are they doing at my house?' We went to see Mrs.
Scott and Miss Percival, her sister. And certainly it was well worth the
trouble."
"These Scotts," said Madame de Lavardens, addressing M. de Larnac,
"do you know who they are?"

"Yes, Madame, I know. Mr. Scott is an American, possessing a colossal
fortune, who settled himself in Paris last year. As soon as their name
was mentioned, I understood that the victory had never been doubtful.
Gallard was beaten beforehand. The Scotts began by buying a house in
Paris for 2,000,000 francs, it is near the Parc Monceau."
"Yes, Rue Murillo," said Paul; "I tell you I went to a ball there. It
was--"
"Let Monsieur de Larnac speak. You can tell us presently about the ball
at Mrs. Scott's."
"Well, now, imagine my Americans established in Paris," continued M.
de Larnac, "and the showers of gold begun. In the orthodox parvenu
style they amuse themselves with throwing handfuls of gold out of
window. Their great wealth is quite recent, they say; ten years ago Mrs.
Scott begged in the streets of New York."
"Begged!"
"They say so. Then she married this Scott, the son of a New York
banker, and all at once a successful lawsuit put into their hands not
millions, but tens of millions. Somewhere in America they have a silver
mine,