"
"Have you no regrets or remorse for having stolen their fortune?"
"What fortune?"
"The packages of bonds you took from their safe."
"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:
"From start to finish, I got the worst of it. Do you know the part
I played in that affair, or rather the part they made me play?
That of Andre Brawford! Yes, my boy, that is the truth, and I
never suspected it.
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