“Fifty thousand francs for being your father? I would have done it for half that, for twenty thousand, for fifteen thousand; why did you not think of me, ungrateful man?”
“Did I know anything about it, when it was all done when I was down there?”
“Ah, truly? And you say that by his will—”
“He leaves me five hundred thousand livres.”
“Are you sure of it?”
“He showed it me; but that is not all—there is a codicil, as I said just now.”
“Probably.”
“And in that codicil he acknowledges me.”
“Oh, the good father, the brave father, the very honest father!” said Caderousse, twirling a plate in the air between his two hands.
“Now, say if I conceal anything from you?”
“No, and your confidence makes you honorable in my opinion; and your princely father, is he rich, very rich?”
“Yes, he is that; he does not himself know the amount of his fortune.”
“Is it possible?”