easily peer into the depths of the soul of the man before him.

"Because," replied he slowly, "both you and I distrust Catenac. When did
you see him last?"

"More than three months ago."

"True, and I allow that he seems to be acting fairly toward his old
associates; but you will admit that, in keeping away thus, his conduct
is without excuse, for he has made his fortune; and though he pretends
to be poor, he is certainly a man of wealth."

"Do you really think so?"

"Were he here, I would force him to acknowledge that he is worth a
million, at least."

"A million!" exclaimed the doctor, with sudden animation.

"Yes, certainly. You and I, Hortebise, have indulged our every whim, and
have spent gold like water, while our friend garnered his harvest and
stored it away. But poor Catenac has no expensive tastes, nor does he
care for women or the pleasures of the table. While we indulged in every
pleasure, he lent out his money at usurious interest. But, stop,--how
much do you spend per annum?"

"That is a hard question to answer; but, say, forty thousand francs."

"More, a great deal more; but calculate what a capital sum that would
amount to during the twenty years we have done business together."