francs. Is it not admirable, M. l'Abbe?"

"Nothing astonishes me now, or, rather, nothing has astonished me," said
the priest. "The fervent piety, the virtues of our worthy friend, could
hardly fail of such a result. To consecrate all his fortune to such an
institution--ah! it is admirable!"

"More than a million, M. l'Abbe," said Polidori, "more than a million,
amassed by dint of order, economy, and probity; and yet there are those who
accuse Jacques of avarice! How, said they, his office brings him in fifty
or sixty thousand francs a year, and he lives like a miser!"

"To such as these," replied the abbe, with enthusiasm, "I would answer:
During fifteen years he has lived like a poor man, in order to be able at
the present time magnificently to solace the poor."

"Be, then, at least proud and joyous at the good you have done," cried
Polidori, addressing Jacques Ferrand, who, gloomy and cast down, seemed
absorbed in profound meditation.

"Alas!" said the abbe, sadly, "it is not in this world that one receives
the recompense of so many virtues; he has a more exalted ambition."

"Jacques," said Polidori, touching the notary lightly on the shoulder,
"finish your reading." The notary started, passed his hand over his face,
and said to the priest:

"Pardon, M. l'Abbe, but I was thinking--I was thinking of the immense
extension that this bank for the poor might have from the returned loans.
If the loans of each year were regularly repaid at the end of four years,