“Oh! I stole their bonds, did I? I deprived them of a portion of their wealth? Is that my crime? Ah! my dear boy, you do not know the truth. You never imagined that those bonds were not worth the paper they were written on. Those bonds were false⁠—they were counterfeit⁠—every one of them⁠—do you understand? They were counterfeit! ”

I looked at him, astounded.

“Counterfeit! The four or five millions?”

“Yes, counterfeit!” he exclaimed, in a fit of rage. “Only so many scraps of paper! I couldn’t raise a sou on the whole of them! And you ask me if I have any remorse. They are the ones who should have remorse and pity. They played me for a simpleton; and I fell into their trap. I was their latest victim, their most stupid gull!”

He was affected by genuine anger⁠—the result of malice and wounded pride. He continued: