Chapter One Mr. Sharp's Search for the Heir of the Huge Money How well edited these English papers are!The kind doctor leaned back in a large leather armchair and talked to himself. Dr. Sarrazan had been talking to himself all his life as one of his diversions. He is fifty years old, with delicate features, bright eyes, clear and shining, wearing a pair of metal frame glasses, his appearance is both serious and amiable, making him look like a gentleman.This morning, although he was not very well dressed at the moment, he had already shaved and put on a white tie. In a hotel room in Brighton where he was staying, there were The Times, The Daily Telegraph, The Daily News all over the carpet, on the furniture.Ten o'clock had hardly struck before Dr. Sarrazan had walked round the town, visited a hospital, returned to his hotel, and read the full text of a paper in the major London papers which he had the day before yesterday. Report to the International Health Assembly on the counting of blood cells.

In front of him, on a tray covered with a white tablecloth, was a perfectly grilled steak, a cup of hot tea and a few slices of buttered toast.This kind of toast is a must for British cooks because it is made of special buns from bakeries. Yes, he repeated, the papers of the United Kingdom are really well edited, beyond reproach!The speech of the Vice-Chairman, the reply of Dr. Sigone of Naples, and the exposition of my thesis, were all timely, truthful, and proper. This was said by Dr. Sarazan of Douai, a distinguished member in French.He began by saying: You will forgive me for speaking in French, but you will certainly understand French, and if I speak in English, you will not understand me.

Five columns of small print are used!I really don't know whether the report in "The Times" is good or the report in "Daily Telegraph" can't be more apt and precise! When Sarazan was thinking this way, suddenly, the officer of ceremonies would not dare to knock on the door in person in front of a solemn figure in a black suit, asking if the gentleman is receiving guests. Monsieur is what the British think they must call all Frenchmen without distinction, just as they think they must call the Italians Signer and the Germans Heyer, otherwise it would be disrespectful.Besides, they might be right.There is no doubt that this invariable habit has its advantages, and it can at once indicate the nationality of each person.

Sarrazan took the business card handed to him.He was quite surprised that there were people visiting this place that he didn't know anyone. When he read the words on the small square piece of paper, he was even more surprised: Mr. Sharp, Solicitor 93 Southampton Road, London He knew that Solicitor in English means attorney ad litem, or rather a legal intermediary, between a notary, attorney ad litem and a lawyer, that is, the former prosecutor. What the hell can I have with Mr. Sharp?He thought to himself, did I inadvertently do something bad?Are you sure he came to see me?he asked.

oh!Yes, sir. Well!Ask him to come in. The ceremonial officer brought in a very young man, and at a glance, the doctor included him in the skeleton family. His lips are thin, or shriveled, his teeth are white and long, his sunken temples are covered by his shriveled and wrinkled skin, his mummy-like complexion, two squirrel eyes like augers, All this could not be more appropriate to call him a skeleton.His skeletal frame was hidden under a baggy coat with a large checkered pattern.In his hand he carried a patent leather travel bag. The man came in, greeted him hastily, put his bag and hat on the ground, sat down uninvited, and said:

I am William Henry Sharp, Jr., a partner in the firm of Billows Green Sharp and you are Dr. Sarrazan? Yes, sir. François Sarazan? It is my humble one. Douai? I live in Douai. Your father's name was Isidore Sarazan? Completely correct. Let's call him Isidore Salazan then. Mr. Sharp took a notebook out of his pocket, looked it up, and then said: Isidore Sarazan died in 1857 at the school district hotel at 54 rue Tarana in the sixth arrondissement of Paris.The hotel has now been demolished. That is true, Dr. Sarrazan asked with increasing surprise, but can you explain it to me?

His mother's name was Julie Langever, M. Charles went on, she was a Paledic, the daughter of Benedict Langever, who lived in the Rue de Vorriol, and died on the 18th. Died in 12 years, that's how the city's municipal authorities recorded. These materials are very precious, sir, very precious!Um!Um!In addition, she is the sister of Jean Jacques Langevour, captain of the drum team of the 36th Light Motor Corps I must admit that Dr. Sarrazan was quite surprised at the man's knowledge of his genealogy, and said, You seem to know better than I do in many respects.My grandmother's maiden name was Longevre, but that's all I knew about my grandmother.

Around 1807, she left Bar-le-Duc with your grandfather Jean Sarazan.She married your grandfather in 1799.They settled in Melun, where they worked in tinplate, and remained there until the death in 1811 of Salazan's wife, Julie Langever.After their marriage, they had only one child, the father Isidore Sarazan.From then on, apart from finding out the date of your father's death in Paris, the clues of your family line have been cut off. I could connect it, and the doctor, fascinated by the exactness of the account, said involuntarily that my grandfather had come to Paris for my father's studies.My father aspired to be a doctor.In 1832, my grandfather died at Palaiseau, near Versailles.My father practiced medicine there, and I was born there in 1822.

You're the man I'm looking for, said Mr. Sharp, and you have no brothers or sisters? No!I am an only child, and my mother died two years after I was born But, sir, what do you want to talk to me about? Mr. Sharp rose to his feet. Sir Brea Joai Modurana, he said the name with the respect any Englishman would have for a title of nobility, I am delighted to have found you, delighted to be number one Someone who pays tribute to you! This man is crazy, the doctor thought, this is a common thing among the skeletons. The attorney ad litem saw what he was thinking in the other party's eyes.

I am not crazy at all, he replied calmly, you are currently the only heir to the Baron Jean-Jacques Langevour as we know it.Baron Longevre became a British subject in 1829 and was made a baron on the recommendation of the Governor-General of Bengal.After the death of his wife Mrs. Gokul, he enjoyed the right to benefit from her property.He died in 1841, leaving a son.The son was a fool, and died in 1869 without heir or will.Thirty years ago, the estate amounted to about five million pounds, and it has been held in escrow under the supervision of the law.Jean Jacques Langevault's foolish son lived with almost no interest in the estate.In 1870 the estate was estimated to be worth £21 million, or 525 million francs.According to the judgment of the Agra Tribunal approved by the Delhi Court approved by the Privy Council, after all the estates, immovable properties and securities were sold, the money was fully deposited in the National Bank of England.Now, this sum amounts to 527 million francs, which you can withdraw with just one check after submitting your genealogical documents to the court of the Ministry of Justice.I am willing to entrust the banker Mrs. Trollope and Smith & Associates to withdraw for you from this day, no matter how much you can withdraw

Dr. Sarrazan was dumbfounded.He didn't speak for a long time.Then, perplexed and unable to believe that this "Arabian Nights" dream was a reality, he asked aloud: But seriously, sir, what grounds do you have for saying it's true?And, how did you find me? The evidence is all here, Mr. Sharp patted the patent leather bag and replied, as for how I found you, that is a very natural thing.I started looking for you five years ago.Every year, many uninherited estates are brought into the British treasury. The special business of our firm is to find the relatives of the deceased, or in our American legal language, they are called close relatives.However, to be precise, we have been busy for five years on the issue of Mrs. Gokul's inheritance.We have conducted investigations from various sources and searched for hundreds of families with the surname Sarrazan, but we have never been able to find the descendants of Isidore.I was even convinced that there was no one with the surname Sarazan in France, but yesterday morning, when I was reading the report of the Health Assembly in the Le Daily News, I saw something called The name of Sarrazhan's doctor, I was shocked.I hastened to review my notes and the thousands of transcripts we had collected on the succession, and I was surprised to find that we had left out the city of Douai.I was almost sure I had found what I was looking for this time, so I took the train to Brighton.When I saw you come out of the meeting, I was sure of it.You are a perfect reflection of your great-uncle Longevre.You look exactly like your great-uncle in a photograph we keep.That photo is based on the portrait of the Indian painter Sharanoni. Mr. Sharp took a photograph from his notebook and handed it to Dr. Sarrazan.The photo shows a tall, bearded man with a feathered turban on his head and a green brocade robe. He has the unique posture of a commander-in-chief in history when he gives the order to attack, looking straight at you intently.In the background, billowing gunpowder smoke and cavalry charging into battle can be vaguely seen. These documents can tell you everything in more detail than I can, Mr. Sharp continued, I leave them to you, and if you will allow me, I will come back to you in two hours. While talking, Mr. Sharp took out seven or eight documents from the patent leather bag, some printed and some handwritten, and put them on the table, then he walked out, muttering: Sir Bria Joai Modulana, I salute you. Dr. Sarrazan picked up the materials with hesitation and began to read them. A quick glance over it was enough to show him that it was true, and to dispel all doubt in him.There is no hesitation in front of such materials. For example, one of the printed materials is as follows: Report to the Elders of the Privy Council of the Supreme Queen about the fact that there is no successor to the estate of Mrs. Gokul de Rachinana of the Province of Bengal. January 5, 1870 Subject matter: The estate of Mrs. Gokul de Razinara included several camels, forty-three bijals of arable land, houses, palaces, plantations, cottages and chattels, treasures, weapons, etc.The matter was brought before the Agra Civil Court and the Delhi High Court several times in a row.Facts have proved that Mrs. Gokul is the widow of Prince Luc Misur and the heir to her late husband's huge property.She remarried in 1819 to a Frenchman named Jean Jacques Langevour.The Frenchman had served in the French army as a junior officer (captain of drums) in the 36th Light Motor Corps until, in 1815, when the Loire garrison was disarmed, he was demobilized, and then sailed in Nantes, Came to Calcutta as Head of Merchant Marine.Then, he went to the interior of India, and soon won the position of instructor in the small indigenous army under the supervision of Prince Rikmisur.Since then, he has been on the rise until the official worship of the commander-in-chief, and, shortly after the prince's death, he was favored by his widow and took her as his wife.Because of his advice on colonial policy and his important help to the Europeans in Agra who were in crisis, the Governor of Bengal recommended Jean Jacques Langjewall and Mrs. Gokul, who had become British subjects. husband is a baron.As a result, the land of Bria Joai Modulana was granted fiefdom.In 1839, Madame Gokul died, leaving the beneficiary of her estate to Langewall, who died with his wife two years later.Langjwal had a son by marriage with an Indian noblewoman, but when he was very young, he became demented, so he was immediately placed under guardianship.Until the demented child's death in 1869, his property was kept in good custody.This huge inheritance has never been inherited.The Court of Agra and the High Court of Delhi have decided to put it up for auction, and at the request of the local government, we have the honor to present it to the Senators of the Privy Council for a decision. Below are the signatures. Besides this, there are copies of court decisions in Agra and Delhi, auction certificates, deposit slips from the National Bank of England, records of searches for the heirs of Langewall in France, a whole lot of information on the matter. The information quickly dissuaded Dr. Sarrazan from any hesitation.He was rightly and unmistakably the next of kin and heir of the Indian noblewoman.There was only one legal step between him and the 527 million francs deposited in the vaults of the National Bank of England, and only official birth and death certificates were required! Such a large windfall would excite even the calmest mind, and it is certainly impossible for a good doctor to remain completely indifferent to such unexpected and certain facts.However, he was not excited for a long time, he just walked around the room for a few minutes.Then he calmed down, reproaching himself for the momentary agitation as a sign of weakness, and sank into an armchair, deep in thought. Then, suddenly, he started pacing up and down again.But this time, there was a pure light in his eyes, and it could be seen that a kind of generosity, chivalry, and lofty thoughts were growing in his heart.He thought over and over again, brewing, perfecting, and finally, he made a decision. At this time, someone knocked on the door.Mr. Sharp is back. I beg your forgiveness for my doubts, the doctor said sincerely to Mr. Sharp, I am convinced now, and express my sincere thanks for your busy work. "I wonder if I would like Sir Briar to leave the matter to me," replied Mr. Sharp. There is no doubt about it.I entrust this matter to you. All I ask is that you don't call me so ridiculous. absurd!The title is worth twenty-one million pounds!It can be seen from Mr. Sharp's expression that he thinks so, but he is very good at flattering, so he doesn't insist. With all due respect, you are master, replied Mr. Sharp, and I am going back to London by train at once, and I am at your command. Can I keep this information?asked the doctor. Absolutely, we still have copies. Dr. Sarrazan sat alone at his desk, took a piece of paper, and wrote: My dear boy, we suddenly have a huge, amazing, incredible wealth!Don't think I'm out of my head, but take a look at the two or three prints I've enclosed with this letter.You will clearly see that I am the successor to the baronetship of England or India, and heir to a fortune of more than half a million francs.The money is now in the National Bank of England.My dear Octave, I know how you feel when you hear this news.You understand as well as I do the new responsibilities such a fortune imposes on us, and the dangers to our sanity it may expose us to.I was only informed of this fact less than an hour ago, but the anxiety of such a duty has half-emptied the joy which I had at first convincingly aroused by thinking of you.Perhaps this change is predestined in our destiny. As ordinary scientific explorers, we are happy in being unknown.Can we still do this in the future?Maybe it's impossible, unless but I dare not tell you about an idea I've had in my head unless this wealth becomes in our hands a new and powerful scientific instrument, a miraculous tool of civilization!Let's talk about that later.Write me back, tell me quickly what this great news makes you think, and pass it on to your mother.I believe that she is a sensible woman, and she will deal with this matter with calm common sense.As for your sister, she's too young for such things to drive her out of her head.Besides, her little head is already very strong, and even with all the possible consequences of this news I am telling you, I believe this sudden change in our lives will disturb her the least of us.Say hello to Marcel for me.He cannot be missing from any of my future plans. Father François Salazan Doctor of Medicine, Paris School of Medicine Brighton, October 28, 1871 Dr. Sarrazan put the letter and several important documents in an envelope, and wrote the address: Octave Sarrazan, Central Polytechnic School, 32 Rue King, Sicily, Paris. Then he picked up his hat and put on the Coat, go to the convention.After a quarter of an hour, this remarkable man stopped thinking about those hundreds of millions of francs.