prevented both the count and the neighboring country-people from
becoming aware of this investment, which was made in the name of
Madame Moreau, who was understood to have inherited property from an
aunt of her father.

As soon as the steward had tasted the delightful fruit of the
possession of the property, he began, all the while maintaining toward
the world an appearance of the utmost integrity, to lose no occasion
of increasing his fortune clandestinely; the interests of his three
children served as a poultice to the wounds of his honor.
Nevertheless, we ought in justice to say that while he accepted casks
of wine, and took care of himself in all the purchases that he made
for the count, yet according to the terms of the Code he remained an
honest man, and no proof could have been found to justify an
accusation against him. According to the jurisprudence of the least
thieving cook in Paris, he shared with the count in the profits due to
his own capable management. This manner of swelling his fortune was
simply a case of conscience, that was all. Alert, and thoroughly
understanding the count's interests, Moreau watched for opportunities
to make good purchases all the more eagerly, because he gained a
larger percentage on them. Presles returned a revenue of seventy
thousand francs net. It was a saying of the country-side for a circuit
of thirty miles:--

"Monsieur de Serizy has a second self in Moreau."

Being a prudent man, Moreau invested yearly, after 1817, both his
profits and his salary on the Grand Livre, piling up his heap with the
utmost secrecy. He often refused proposals on the plea of want of
money; and he played the poor man so successfully with the count that